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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

ssw | embry call ; let me take care of you.

NOTES:

As I said yesterday... I’m going to break down the list of prompts I originally intended to use for just one one-shot into a few different ones for this because I just felt like the first one flowed so well using only the one... This is the second part to the one shot I posted yesterday. And there will be at least a few more parts after this. I can’t say when they’ll be coming, but I can say they will be coming eventually.

Again, same as yesterday.. I am not a medical professional. Nor have I ever had amnesia of any kind. I’m trying my best with this, so apologies if it doesn’t seem realistic or whatever...If it matters/bothers anyone, that is.

Question though.. Would anyone be interested in at least one part of this being written in his point of view? Because I feel like it’d be interesting to write that way... It’d be third person..

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ]. The prompt used for inspiration here was obviously, Let me take care of you.

FANDOM / CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OFC, Merisa.

OTHER WORKS EMBRY & MERISA ARE FOUND IN:

[ he looks down. she looks up. ]

WARNINGS:

amnesia tw, vague injuries mentioned tw, just gonna say her current soon to be ex boyfriend is an actual piece of garbage so.. yeah.. Sexual tension. Beyond all these, there’s not really anything else I can think of.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee is the only one currently on my Twilight taglist. If you see this and you’d like to be tagged also, add yourself to the doc below or lmk. It’ll make me super happy.

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The phone rang, shattering the silence and my train of thought. Okay, so it wasn’t a train of thought because I was more or less staring out the window of my grandmother’s living room and watching Embry Call work on my grandmother’s old car out in the driveway, but.. The phone was a distraction I didn’t want.

I grumbled when it didn’t go quiet. And after a few more seconds I’d had all I could take of the high pitched sound in all it’s annoying glory. I sprang up from the couch gingerly, grabbing up the remote to pause the true crime documentary I’d been engrossed in about Richard Ramirez and I hobbled into the kitchen, wincing every step of the way.

A scowl filled my face and I tensed up just as soon as I picked up and I heard Greg on the other end of the line. Upon hearing his voice, all sorts of unpleasant memories came rushing back. It was too much.

“Merisa?”

“What, Greg?” I snapped. Impatient. Peering out my grandma’s living room window. Biting my bottom lip as I watched Embry tug the stained tank top he was wearing up over his head and wipe at sweat on his forehead with it before tossing it on the concrete slab next to his open toolbox.

“I asked you a question.” Greg cleared his throat expectantly.

Is it bad that I was so caught up in watching Embry do mechanic things outside that I didn’t even attempt to make an effort to listen to a damn word Greg said? Because this is exactly what happened.

“I wasn’t listening.”

Greg gave an annoyed huff at my honest answer and I rolled my eyes. Grumbling. The crackle of static over the phone line breaking through for a second or two. Whether I asked for him to repeat himself or not didn’t matter at all because Greg went on and asked his question again anyway.

“I said don’t you think you should be planning to return to Seattle soon? You were only supposed to be gone for a few days. It’s been nearly four weeks.” Greg stated. Pausing for a minute to grumble to himself about how this was typical of me, telling him one thing and then doing something entirely different.

And I snapped.

“Does the fact that I nearly died three and a half weeks ago just not mean anything to you at all or..?” I snarled, going quiet for a second or two. Determined to stay calm. But exploding felt so damn satisfying. It was hard to resist. I got the feeling that I spent 90 percent of my time around Greg biting my tongue and that had me wondering why. What did this guy have that kept me with him? The more I wondered about it, the harder it was to come up with any real sort of answer.

“Sorry. I should know better than to ask questions I already know the answer to.” I apologized. In my own petty way, of course.

Greg took my apology as sincerity and he sighed. Disappointed, obviously because I wasn’t there to tend to his every stupid whim. “I’m sorry too, it’s just.. I told you we had plans. You know how important this weekend is to me and the fact that you’re not even trying to come back… I’m just disappointed, sweetheart. That’s all.”

,, well excuse the fuck out of me for grieving. excuse me for loving my mother enough to want to go to her funeral. Excuse me for nearly dying and needing to heal and getting in the way of your precious plans,asshole.” I wanted to say it so badly that I had to bite the insides of my cheeks and ball my hands into fists just to keep it in. I sighed. “Instead of making this harder than it has to be, you could actually be a caring boyfriend and come to make sure I’m okay… I mean.. I am dealing with memory loss and injuries...”

Surprise, surprise. He suddenly had a thousand excuses as to why he couldn’t -and wouldn’t, just do that. And my stomach churned. Did he even give a shit? Why was I still wasting my time? Why had I even bothered answering the phone in the first place this time?

I made up my mind right then. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I was going to block him on all socials. I was going to block his number on my cell phone. And if I saw his name on my grandmother’s caller ID when the phone rang, I was just going to walk out of the room.

“I’ve gotta go.” I muttered. Before Greg could say anything else, I hung up the phone angrily. Slamming it down on it’s cradle.

From the doorway, Embry cleared his throat and stepped into the living room. “Trouble in paradise?”

“If that’s what paradise is I’d hate to imagine hell.” I flopped back on the couch dramatically. Wincing when yes, it still hurts to move certain ways. Or too much at once.

Embry sat down in my grandmother’s recliner. Staring intently at the television which was paused on the clubhouse scene from Dirty Dancing.

I grabbed my cell phone from the end table and did exactly what I made up my mind to do. Blocking Greg on every single one of my socials. And out of pettiness, I changed my relationship status on Instagram to single.

He’d never even bothered to change his, if memory serves. Why had I changed mine?

There was still so much I had left to fill in as far as my memory gaps, but it was coming back in leaps and bounds. Something told me that the last thing I needed to have done was return to Seattle. Otherwise, I might not have ever remembered or even realized to begin with, what kind of man I was involved with because I’m pretty sure that Greg wouldn’t have started to really show his true self.

He’d done a pretty fair job of hiding just how controlling and easily irritated by the slightest inconvenience he really was so far, I mean, I hadn’t dropped his ass.

I smirked in satisfaction as I put down my phone.

I happened to glance over at Embry to find him staring at me. Like he wanted to say something or he was lost in thought. Before I could help myself, I was staring right back. Getting pulled into the depths of his eyes. Eventually dropping my gaze down. Lingering on his mouth when he licked his lips.

I couldn’t stop staring. This was starting to become habit whenever he was around. Especially if he wasn’t paying attention so I knew I could stare to my hearts content and get away with it.

I stood and cleared my throat. “I’m gonna go get myself some lemonade. Do you want anything?” I asked as I walked over to the doorway leading into the kitchen.

“If there are any more bottled waters?” Embry asked hopefully. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. And as soon as I was in the kitchen, I leaned against the fridge. Fanning myself with one of my grandmother’s magazines that happened to be sitting on the counter.

After I managed to pull myself together just a little bit, I grabbed a bottled water for Embry and I poured myself a glass of lemonade. And when I turned to walk back into the living room, I found myself body to body with Embry as he stepped into the doorway between the two rooms.

My thighs clenched just a little at the way it felt to be pressed against him. Hard muscles against my own softness. For a second, when I opened my mouth to tell him I’d gotten his water like he asked for, the words hung in my throat.

Finally, I managed to get it out. “Your water, sir.” I held out the water bottle to him and after holding it against the back of his neck for a few seconds, he uncapped it, practically swallowing down half the bottle in one gulp.

Eyes locked on me the entire time. I know this because I’ll be damned if I could stop staring at him either. I tried. And failed.

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, right.. You probably wanted to wash your hands…” I stepped out of the doorway, pouting to myself a little because the second physical contact was broken, I missed the feel of his body against mine.

He walked over to the sink. Turning it on. Washing his hands. And I happened to notice he had a few busted knuckles.

“You need those sanitized. C’mere.” I nodded to the stool on the other side of the counter. Embry shrugged. Muttered that it wasn’t a big deal.

“It’s called infection setting in. And it can happen.” I insisted, nodding to the stool again. When he shook his head and took another sip of water and calmly insisted that he was fine, I shook my head and hobbled over. Grabbing hold of the hand that wasn’t injured. Leading him to the stool. “Sit.”

“Okay, alright. You know, you’re a lot bossier than I remember.” Embry muttered, gazing down at me. Even sitting down he was still taller. Bigger.

I stuck out my tongue at him. “If it keeps you from getting a nasty infection in your hand, I’ll take it.” I muttered. My gaze settling on him. Instantly getting sucked right back into those deep brown eyes and lost.

After a second or two of both of us staring at each other yet again, I cleared my throat. “I should go find the first aid kit.”

“It’s under the sink.” Embry answered quietly. I bit my lip. Nodding as I muttered mostly to myself, “Under the sink.” and turned away to get it.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m telling you, it’s fine. I deal with this all the time. Kind of happens when you work at a garage, Merisa…” Embry trailed off as I glanced back at him and stated in a firmer tone, “Let me take care of you, okay?”

I grabbed the bottle of peroxide and a rag. Sitting on the stool adjacent to his. Grabbing hold of his hand and placing it in my lap.

“You have tiny hands.” Embry muttered, almost sounding dazed. I glanced up at him through a curtain of hair as it fell right into my face because I bent my head just a little to see his hand better. I swallowed hard. Trying not to think of how good it felt to have his hand in mine. Or on my body.

When I exhaled, it was shaky.

That had me raising a brow.

If this man had one tenth of a clue just what he stirred up in me, I swear to God…

He jumped as the peroxide made contact with the open wounds, bubbling and fizzing as it cleaned the wounds out.

A memory came back to me… I was younger. Probably around five. My grandmother sat on the stool Embry currently sat on and I sat on the stool I was currently sitting on. My leg was in her lap and she was dabbing some red liquid on it that burned like the fire of ten thousand hells. I was crying and trying to jerk my leg away, but my grandma just held onto it. And when she finished, she leaned in… Blowing gently on my injured knee.

As the bubbling started to slow down, I raised Embry’s hand, leaning down. Blowing on the knuckles a little. Glancing up at him and teasing playfully, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I’ve felt worse.” he finally mumbled after we’d been locked in a quiet staredown for what felt like minutes instead of seconds.

It sank in that I was still holding onto his hand. And he wasn’t making an effort to pull his hand away, either.

My grandmother cleared her throat from the doorway and smirked at the two of us playfully as she came in, sitting groceries on the counter. “Am I interrupting something, Merisa?”

“No, not at all.” I answered. Smiling. Letting go of Embry’s hand as my cheeks burned. I felt like a teenager just walked in on by her parents.

Embry slid off the stool and brushed his hands over his jeans. “I need to get back to it.” he muttered. Hurrying out of the house. As soon as the screen door banged shut behind him, I let out a ragged breath. Fanning myself with the magazine again.

Trying to ignore the look I was getting from my grandmother.

When she couldn’t resist any longer, she spoke up. “He’s single.. If you’re wondering.”

“Grandma!” I laughed out, shaking my head. My gaze lingering on the window. Fixed on him.

My grandmother spoke up again. “It’s been so nice having you here, Mermaid… It’ll be a shame to see you go.”

Before I really stopped to think about it, I replied “ Honestly? I’m tempted to stay.”

My grandmother pulled me into a tight hug. Smiling at me as the hug broke. “I won’t stop you. The decision is yours.”

I nodded. Waiting until she was in the other room with one of her soap operas going full blast before I wandered back over to the window that faced where Embry currently was outside. Staring out at him with my fingertips pressed against the glass.

I thought he’d caught me one time because he stopped what he was doing beneath the hood of the car to glance around the yard. I moved away from the window quickly, shaking my head and laughing at myself about it.

I’ll repeat. If Embry Call had one tenth of a clue the effect he had on me...

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johnnycranes · 3 years

Note

[ PIN ] : sender pins receiver against a wall and begins to kiss them. + Tom & Sydney 🙈

office lunch

words: 1.2k

rating: m

warning/s: none just language i guess

Amanda you already know this couple would not exist without, so this is for you! thank you for indulging me and dragging me down the succession rabbit hole. Introducing Sydney's newest ship 💞 Charlie when are you joining the party

"I'll be back after lunch. Gotta eat, gotta pee, not… necessarily in that order. Who knows."

As Tom left the conference room, his shoulders sagged and he found it a lot easier to breathe.

There was something about the atmosphere in that room, honestly. Maybe the air conditioning was too cold in there, maybe they needed to crack open a window every now and then, maybe it was the crushing weight of pressure whenever there were meetings with the top brass.

Whichever it was he might have to ask Greg to check it out.

He took quick steps to his office. He had an hour before he was needed again, ninety minutes if he was lucky that the old farts take their sweet ass time to piss or whatever.

They even invited him out for lunch with them but that was an automatic no. He wasn't about to spend any more time with them, nope nope nope.

He decided to spend his break elsewhere, maybe grab a bite in one of the restaurants downstairs and-

"Well hello, Mr. Wambsgans"

Tom froze as he registered the voice and the person it belonged to, standing in the middle of his office, sitting on the edge of his desk, smiling bright and her body framed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel she was.

Was his hunger making him hallucinate? Or was that actually…

"S-Sydney?" He asked hesitantly.

His heart jumped into his throat as her brown eyes sparkled and her lips curled up into a wider smile.

She pushed off of the desk and made her way to him. To Tom it felt like she was crossing a whole desert to reach him. "I got an earlier flight and I wanted to surprise you. I hope that's-"

He didn’t wait for her to make it all the way before he decided to pin her against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless. Thankfully he kept the blinds down so no one would fucking see them. He wasn’t about to let those parasites outside see him and his girl.

Kissing her was like quenching a thirst that no ordinary drink could fill. It was like coming home after a long day, it was like taking a bite out of your favorite meal, it was like the best damn feeling in the world.

And she’d only been gone for three days.

He bit her lower lip and oh God the sound she made. How the fuck did he go that long without hearing her moan for him like that?

Tom was so so so so soooo thankful that she decided to wear a dress that day as he bunched the fabric up to… to…

Tom pulled away and as delicious as that whine she made was, he was just too curious. “You’re not… you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asked, stunned and in disbelief.

Sydney was out of breath and extremely flushed, her skin tinted red, the color going all the way down her neck. He took a mental note to kiss his way over her body later.

Preferably right after she answered his question.

He could tell she tried shrugging casually but she was worse than he was when it came to hiding things. She was cute that way.

“Greg told me you had a really important meeting and I didn’t know how long we had before they called you back in, ok?” She huffed out a laugh. “In hindsight, it saved us like, a few seconds maybe but still.”

Tom couldn’t help but smile and coo at such a genuine gesture. “Aww, you did that for me?” he asked, honestly really touched that she considered his schedule even though he’d much rather spend the rest of the day with her. “That’s really sweet.”

She grinned as she got on her tiptoes to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. “I missed you,” was all she said.

Tom tilted her chin up and he took his time to gaze at the beautiful brown eyes he’d come to see in his dreams. “I missed you too,” he whispered.

Then Sydney cleared her throat and the blush gracing her cheeks was as clear as day. “Do you, do you wanna continue, you know?” she gestured vaguely with her hands. “Or grab a bite to eat first?”

Tom, who was completely distracted by how thoughtful Sydney was, didn’t even realize they pressed pause on the whole thing. “Oh uhm, I mean… are you hungry, honey? Did you eat during the flight?”

“I had some chips? But I could go for something.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Unacceptable. I won’t have my wife,” God he loved saying that word, and he grinned when Sydney beamed up at him. “go hungry. I’ll text Greg, ask him to bring up some food. You’re ok with Italian, right, honey?”

Sydney nodded before leaning her head against his arm as he brought his phone out to look for Greg’s name. “Ooooh pizza sounds good, yes.”

“The lady wants pizza, the lady shall get pizza.”

Sydney giggled against him and Tom knew that not even part two of the long-ass meeting waiting for him after lunch could get him down.

Then he realized something.

His lips twisted down into a frown. “But what about you going commando for me? I don’t want it to go to waste.” He wasn’t about to forget his beautiful wife’s thoughtful gesture, honestly that was one of the sweetest and sexiest things anyone has ever done for him.

She waved her hand in a don’t-worry-about-it motion. “Honey it’s ok. We can have sex later, hm?”

But Tom’s eyes brightened as he thought of a brilliant plan. “All right but what if, hmm, what if, you sit on my cock while we eat? Multi-tasking. That, that’s a thing, I think. We can do it, right?”

They could, right?

Or… hmmm…

Memories of the Roy family making fun of him on the night of his bachelor party for his first wedding invaded his mind, and he couldn’t help but think Sydney would laugh at him for suggesting something just as absurd.

Sydney hummed and seemed to actually be pondering it as her brows furrowed. “I mean… we could try it? But maybe not now? I don’t want you getting pizza sauce on your shirt before the meeting.”

Tom stood dumbfounded.

How dare he even think of grouping his wife with the nasty, cruel and mean-spirited Roys. He didn’t know what he did to have her in his life, but he was going to make damn sure that she knew he loved her, and would do anything for her.

“Eat quickly and sex after?” she asked playfully.

Overcome with emotions at seeing his wife back home and remembering just how sweet she was, Tom leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her lips.

His eyes softened as he pulled away to gaze down at her. “I love you, Syd,” he whispered. And he meant it with every fibre of his fucking being. Loved her so so so damn much.

She smiled softly. “I love you too, Tom.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and inhaled deeply, breathing her in. “It’s good to have you home.”

#as i finish writing this i'm already booting up the first ep of s3 sksks #amanda thank you so much for this you already know what i got in my hand for you 🥺💖#this was truly such a big brain idea and you deserve all the credit #in our succession era #oc: sydney williams #tom wambsgans #tom x sydney

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novantinuum · 4 years

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences

Words: 2.2K~

Summary: A series of shorts detailing what might’ve happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Greg apparently had a LOT on his mind, because this was supposed to be short and instead it’s over 2000 words, ahah. Final chapter!

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

Chapter warning: Allusions to past non-canon character suicide.

____

Chapter 6: Greg

Hours pass.

Bismuth makes quick and quiet work of replacing the cracked slider door in Steven’s room while he sleeps, and secures a thick tarp over the open front of the house to keep the coastal breeze somewhat at bay until she can finish her repairs to the windows and siding. She warns that might take a day or two. Garnet, meanwhile, busies herself the rest of the afternoon and evening fielding all of the Diamonds’ frazzled calls, and reassuring them of the boy’s current stability. Pooling their knowledge, Dr. Maheswaran and Peridot make sure to confirm that. Beyond some minor scarring, neither his organic or Gem half seems to exhibit any serious physical health conditions in consequence of what happened today, news which works to ever so slightly lift the air of the household. With no other concrete tasks to complete, Pearl, Amethyst, Lapis, Connie, and Greg all rotate between sweeping debris off the floor, wandering the beach to mentally recuperate, and dutifully sitting at Steven’s side as he rests. It may not sound like a lot, but alas the level of emotional labor demanded by such a situation is immense.

All in all, the sun’s long since dipped below the horizon by the time Greg finally collapses onto the mattress laid out in the back of his van, craving if but a moment of privacy and respite from all the chaos. It’s been... an insufferably long day, to put it lightly. Busy. Tons of cleaning, and intercepting nosy neighbors, and bedside monitoring...

He offered to take the first night shift watching Steven a few minutes ago, but Pearl must’ve noticed the dark circles creeping ever wider under his eyes, because she proceeded to gently overturn his offer and remind him of humanity’s daily sleep requirement. And she’s right, of course. He can’t stay up as long as he used to in his twenties anymore. Plus, he probably deserves some time to himself after everything that’s transpired. There’s plenty of Gems left in the house who can keep watch, after all. Steven will be fine for a few hours. Surely nothing else can happen when he’s asleep, right?

Right??

Exhaustedly slumping against the side wall, Greg offers a glassy, vacant stare at the contacts list of his phone, roughly wiping the damp from his cheeks with his other hand as his thumb hovers over one of the numbers. Does he dare drag someone else into this whole situation? Surely the kinder solution would be to refrain from widening the circle any more, from letting anyone else learn about today’s harrowing events. And yet if he fails to find a proper outlet for the raw emotions all of this has violently hauled to the surface, he fears he just may suffer a mental break himself, repressed memories bursting like a vicious flood through the dam he desperately tried to seal them behind all those years back. Much of this is just... far too familiar.

His phone slips right through his trembling hands as the cruel reality of what he witnessed today finally begins to carve its indelible presence in his mind. A strained sob leaking from between his tightly pursed lips, he buries his head between his knees, clutching at the worn bottom hem of his jean shorts like an infant to a parent’s finger. Small. Vulnerable.

Helpless.

His son... oh stars, his only son, he—

He can’t talk about any of this to the Gems; they wouldn’t wholly grasp the uniquely human nature of his concerns. And he doesn’t feel comfortable discussing these matters with Dr. Maheswaran, especially not after the stern words she dealt to him back at the hospital. He’s burdened her enough already, by this point. No, there’s only one fellow human he feels close enough with to engage in this sort of conversation.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he reaches for the phone he dropped on the mattress. Turns it on. Nervously clamps down on his bottom lip as he selects his cousin’s contact and dials.

The passing heartbeats slamming against his ribs are almost nauseating in their needy clamor as he waits, his calloused fingers tapping against the thick rubber of his phone case. Andy’s never been a particularly tech savvy guy, so honestly, it’s well within reason he might not even carry his phone on his person to answer. And that’d be fine, really. In fact, he might even prefer it, since he’s still not confident he’s emotionally prepared to discuss any of this at this precise moment, anyways. But just as he’s beginning to undergo mental preparations for what on Earth he might leave as a voicemail message, his older family member finally picks up.

“Greg?” Andy’s gravelly voice rings through, sounding somewhat tinny through their connection. “Hey, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? How’s the ol’ Universe family unit doin’?”

“Not great, honestly,” he narrowly manages in response, his throat constricting tight. “That’s kinda why I’m calling, if you have the time to listen?”

“Heh. I’m a drifter, you know I ain’t got no schedule. Carry on.”

“Well... geeze, how do I put this. There was, uh... a bit of an incident today. With Steven.”

“An incident?” his cousin questions, marked worry immediately painting his tone. “The kid okay??”

He falls silent for a few seconds upon this question, threading his hyperactive digits through the split ends in his hair on automatic, a stress-induced habit. “Unclear,” he says, a slight quiver making itself intimately known in his words. “I mean, physically, at the moment, yes, but—“

He cuts off once more. It suddenly occurs to him that little of today’s events would make sense to Andy without providing the appropriate context. Or, at least, what little context he’s capable of giving as a father. It’s still terrifying to admit the truth to himself— that he doesn’t possess the full story. That he hasn’t been paying close enough attention. That, in many ways, he willfully blinded himself to all the troubling events transpiring around his son throughout the years, foolishly believing that if he didn’t involve himself... that if he simply stayed out of the Gems’ hair... everything would go to plan, and Steven would finally receive the training he needed. He didn’t expect things would grow so complicated.

He didn’t expect that his teenage son would have to march into battle carrying nothing but his wits and a shield time and time again.

With a weary sigh and a quick apology, to which Andy brushes off, Greg begins to weave a verbal picture of everything that’s transpired across the last few days. First, the hospital call. Rushing home from tour, only to find his son giant and flushed pink, literally filling an entire room with the sheer volume of his trauma. The shattered x-ray in his chart, hinting towards hidden hurts that— before all this— even Steven seemingly hadn’t processed or quantified. Then, the road trip. The unwanted reminders of his childhood. That blasted CD. His expression sobers as he describes the fateful argument they had on the road home, one which lead to his son accidentally breaking the steering wheel and flipping the van. Next... his disappearance. No texts for four whole days, which is so unlike him. He was worried sick. And the next time he saw him, he was eight feet tall, glowing, and painfully manic in behavior, with each new sentence spilling from his mouth revealing an even more heartbreaking picture of the sort of poor mental state he’d spiraled into. It was nothing short of a father’s worst nightmare, propelled into horrifying, vivid reality.

Nothing in this corner of the galaxy could’ve prepared him for the primal surge of terror and anguish he was engulfed within when that nightmare distorted and transformed even further.

His only son... colossal and coated in thick scales and spines, sclera black as night... roughly clawing at this unfamiliar form, smashing his skull against the cliffside, roaring with an inner pain so primal that the sound now haunts the depths of his very soul—

“I- you remember what happened with cousin Jo, back when we were young?” Greg says softly once he’s caught Andy up with the details of situation, his voice frail and unsteady, the tone of a man helplessly marooned amidst his anxieties. “Before she was sent to that mental rehab place? Well, I’m... with the addition of Gem magic, it almost felt like that. I mean, h-he’s fine for now, we have him resting, but... but I’m just so scared he won’t come out of this, like her, a-a-and that one day he’ll—“

A mewling sob bubbles up in his throat, swiftly severing that train of thought. N-no. No, he refuses to even utter that horrible idea out loud! After all, a world without Steven in it isn’t worth envisioning.

Andy’s eventual response— albeit tinged with a justified shade of awkwardness, given the emotionally charged nature of this conversation— is filled with genuine compassion, and for that he’s dearly thankful.

“Aw, hell... Greg, I’m- I’m so sorry. I, uh- I could fly over, if any of ya’ need me? For emotional support, or whatever?”

Upon this kind offer, he inhales deep to steady his breath, and wipes away dewy beads of moisture from the corner of his eyes, desperately hoping that he can mitigate the pitiful wavering of his voice over the phone. He’s gotta fight to reliably keep some form of composure in front of other people, damnit. His kid can’t have his dad breaking down around him too, of course.

“No, you’ve got places to be,” he replies evenly, pressing his thumb and pointer against one of his aching temples. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You ain’t asking,” he retorts, the eye-roll evident in his tone. “I’m offering. Listen- family takes care of family, y’hear? And I’m only about a day’s flight away, anyways. It’s really the least I could do.”

He sighs. Absentmindedly tugs at a thick strand of his hair. Offers a long, contemplative stare at the rickety age-worn handle affixed to the inside of the van’s back doors. Truth be told— ignoring his deep-seated guilt at dragging Andy into all this to begin with— he’d love having another family member around to embrace, especially a human one who can more deeply understand the crux of his anxieties about this delicate situation. But in the end, he shouldn’t be prioritizing his own feelings and comfort. He’s not the one in crisis, his son is.

Desperately hoping he’s making the right choice, Greg flexes his fingers, and acquiesces to the offer, on one condition: only if Steven consents to having visitors, once he’s awake.

Andy hums in approval. “Understood. Don’t wanna overload the poor guy with any surprise visits, or whatever.”

“Yeah. The last thing I want to do is push him too hard, too fast.”

He pauses, braving waves of parental grief to spend a moment to reflect on Steven’s emotional progression over the past few months... a stray negative comment here, an unusually forlorn mannerism there... All of them events that, in isolation, wouldn’t point to anything more than your standard ‘teenage angst,’ but when observed in strong, unceasing patterns, begin to reveal deeply harrowing truths about the state of an individual’s self-image. How did he never notice? Why wasn’t he there to catch him in his fall?

“I think he hates himself,” he says quietly, his voice hitching up at the end. “He didn’t say so directly, but- but I can sense it. And I don’t know how to help him, I-I... I don’t know if I can.”

“Nonsense,” his cousin scoffs, “‘course ya’ know what to do! What does any good father worth their salt give their sons?”

Unable to evade the momentary temptation of feeling miserable and sorry for himself, he slumps back against the wall, giving a weak shrug that his current audience would never see.

“I dunno, maybe a stable, safe childhood? Not growing up poor as dirt in a van?”

“No, you numbskull,” Andy immediately cuts back, “you love on ‘em and support ‘em just as much as you always have! Y’ show him that you’re always gonna be there for him, and that he can trust you with anything.”

“But I haven’t always been there for him,” he exclaims petulantly. “That’s the whole problem! That’s one of the reasons he ended up like this.”

“Greg,” he says, his voice softer this time. “Listen to me, ain’t nobody perfect, okay? We’ve all made our mistakes with people. Me? More than most. But what we can’t do is let those mistakes cloud what’s happening right now. Y’know, that’s one of the hard lessons I’ve had to learn over the past two years, that you can’t always make things about you. Because right now, it’s about him. He’s dealin’ with some hard feelings, and he needs all of our help. So, let’s help him. Together. We’ll start with one foot in front of us, and we can take it from there. All right?”

Closing his weary, exhausted eyes and pressing his thumb firm against his still-aching temple, Greg Universe gives a long sigh and finally concedes to the reality that— just as he’s not solely responsible for the decline of his son’s mental state— no man should be an island when it comes to the task of supporting one’s journey towards recovery. As with everything, the extended Universe family unit will face the future together, hand-in-hand. Step-by-step.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I think that’s do-able.”

#su #su future #greg universe #andy demayo #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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neeterloveschenford · 3 years

Text

RNM 3x07

Hello my fellow lovers of all things alien! Another episode down and six more to go. First I’d like to start by congratulating Heather Hemmens! What an accomplishment! I hope you can continue to pursue your passion for directing. Also I would like to once again put forth my deepest desire for someone to rescue Lucky out into the universe. He’s a good boi! He deserves better!! And on that note, let’s dive into this episode.

I know I can get flip floppy when it comes to Maria, but just a few days ago she was jumping off rooftops and shooting up adrenaline to try jump start her powers. Now she’s strong enough to put Jones in a cage? Maybe if there had been a time jump, but we’re still on day 7. I don’t buy it. I don’t think they know what to do with her even after 3 seasons. I’m not expecting any kind of comeuppance for last season. I think they are completely correct in sweeping that all under the rug. It’s not the show for something like that. If this were Dawson’s Creek or One Tree Hill, sure. But I want to see sci-fi and aliens more than friendship and relationship drama. So I’m not sure where they think they are going to end up with her, but so far it’s been hit or miss for me.

Next we have Liz being all sciencey. I love seeing her, Michael and Isobel working together. But I gotta say, her plan was kinda rubbish. I mean, Jones has been one step ahead of everyone and Liz is gonna Mata Hari him? Don’t think so

Dear Deputy Pete, why are all men so dumb. Every moron on this show hates Max but wants to get into Isobel’s pants. I get it, but it’s so cliche.

Hello Father Dallas! Betcha Rosa’s not gonna miss mass this week! I like him. He quoted Biggie. I already like his relationship with Rosa ten times more than her relationship with Wyatt. I liked his advice too. He works on the Res. Does he know Greg? I wanna know. And he was in a bts picture with Vlamis and Trevino a few days ago. Guess we’ll be seeing more of him.

Alex keeps talking about Afghanistan this season. The last two seasons he only talked about Iraq. I know he served both places, but shouldn’t his line have been something along the lines of he survived the deserts of Afghanistan and Iraq instead of just one of them? Maybe I’m just being nitpicky.

Why is Kyle just being kept in a barn? Is there someone with medical knowledge there taking care of him? Did Eduardo just take him there and hook him up to that equipment and leave him there? What the heck is going on? That barn can’t be that sanitary. And where was Maria in that flashback? Did he just leave her there? Did her shooting Kyle up with adrenaline make things worse for Kyle? Does Eduardo have medical training? Does Kyle know he has an uncle? Who were the guys that were breaking into Max’s house. So many questions. So few answers.

Poor Lucky! Can we find him a new home please?!? HE’S A GOOD BOI!!

I like Isobel having female friends. She has grown so much since last season. But this plan is sooooo bad! Seriously. How did they think this would work? I know they were getting desperate, but seriously!

I’m gonna need Michael and Rosa to have a scene together every episode from here on out! I love their dynamic. And Michael is such a great teacher. Patient when she needed it. Challenging her when she needed it. And the sass coming from Rosa! Also, how stinking cute is it that Michael played baseball! I can just imagine my sweet little Guerin making a home run and being all smug about it. And I’d just like to point out that Heads Up 7Up was my favorite game when I was a kid. I would be devastated every single time we played at school and my thumb didn’t get put down. Memories.

Seriously Liz. How could you not realize Jones was onto you. When has Max ever referred to Maria as DeLuca? She has always been Maria to him. Wait. Hold up. Michael was the only one who ever refers to her as DeLuca. Was this a clue to the big reveal later on? We may never know.

I really love Greg, but he’s really kind of bland these days. I really hope when Maria gets out of that coma that he starts to challenge her. She needs Greg the former drag racer. Not Greg the super sweet boytoy. Michael let her run their relationship last season and look how that turned out.

Rosa’s new power is cool. That’s all I have to say on the matter.

So if Trevor went crazy and committed suicide while working on the Lockhart machine, how did Travis become so nuts? Did Alex referring to Trevor as the crazy boot maker who chased them through a corn field a continuity error? (I mean yeah, it’s gotta be.) Who’s in charge of checking things like this? Can I apply for this job? I think I might do a better job.

Obi-wan Junkyardy could be the best line this show has ever come up with. Especially now that Michael is, in fact, a jedi.

I think Liz has more chemistry with Jones than with Max. Nathan is an amazing actor. I had forgotten, since Max was so bland. But Jones reminds me of how much I loved him on General Hospital. Jones is just sexy. There’s no ifs ands or buts about it. And Liz knows she’s attracted to him. It’s impossible not to be. Cause he’s HOT! And as much as I wanted to bash my head against the table with how dumb her plan was, I loved watching the cat and mouse between them. And then she punched him. It was glorious!

I love that Eduardo knows about Malex. It was a nice parallel that last week we got the Michael and Sanders conversation, and then this week we got the Alex version. Even when they don’t have scenes together, they are still ever present in each other’s lives. I think Alex might not have even realized that the real reason he joined Deep Sky was Michael. And I don’t think that the Lockhart machine is going to drive him crazy like it did everyone else. Maybe Nora built it to be accessed by whoever Michael “bonds” with. He’ll figure it out and I’m very certain that it will hold the key to defeating Jones.

I would just like to point out that most of my theories get debunked pretty quickly. But I was 100% correct about Jones being the Dictator and Michael’s father. I am pretty darn proud of myself. I still think Louise might be Jones’ sister. Which would make Michael and Isobel cousins. That would be cool.

Also I love the fact that Rosa wound up saving the day. Cause she’s a badass.

Which brings us back to Maria and her mindscape. Jones is going to use her to access Patricia’s memories. But memories of what? The Lockhart machine? Whatever she was a part of at Caulfield? That part does interest me. But I do hope that Maria beats Jones by the skin of her teeth. Or maybe because of a fluke. If she kicks his ass or something I will be disappointed.

So lastly, I would just like to point out that today I read a review of this episode on another website and the reviewer referenced Gargamel. 👀👀 I don’t know how to feel about that.

Anyway, all in all it wasn’t a bad episode. But it’s not my fave. And I’m not even going to get into nobody worrying about Kyle. But next week I am expecting much bigger and much better things. Cause, you know, Malex and such. So until next time my lovelies!!

#roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico s3 #s3ep7 #s3 spoilers #s3 speculation #it's only my opinion

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alittlextrathatway · 4 years

Note

Can you do 38 and 41 general brettsey in the same prompt? 😊

“Don’t let go.” + “Do you trust me?”

******

“Can we talk?”

Sylvie swallows thickly and hopes she imagined Casey asking that question. It’s been hard enough trying to simply live her life in the aftermath of every conversation they’ve had since the kiss. She really doesn’t want any additional difficulty.

But when she looks up from her tablet he’s definitely standing beside the table, watching her expectantly.

“Casey…”

He sighs as whatever reply she was going to say trails off. She doesn’t want to say yes but she can’t seem to say no either.

“Please?” He asks, his blue eyes finding hers.

His eyes are earnest and beseeching and the sliver of hope in her ability to say no dissolves at the sight of them. She nods stiffly, closes the case on her tablet, motioning for him to lead the way as she stands.

To her surprise he doesn’t lead her to his quarters. He leads her into the briefing room, shutting the blinds and locking both doors.

“I know you think I can’t move on from Gabby,” he says softly, stopping several feet in front of her and shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “But you’re wrong.”

“We’ve talked about this, Casey—“

“I hate when you call me Casey like that. Or Captain. It’s so...cold and distant. That’s not us, Sylvie. Hasn’t been in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” she says tiredly. “I have to. I have to put distance between us or I’ll never be able to let you go.”

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t?” She asks in confusion.

“Don’t let go,” he insists. “Of us. Of me. Do you...do you know how I know you're wrong about my not being able to move on from Gabby?”

“Please, I don’t want to talk about this, Casey,” she says, tears building in her eyes.

“We have to,” he says, taking a few steps closer to her. “The distance and the space...it’s not helping. Either of us. We have to talk about this. It will eat us up inside if we don’t. Hell, it already is.”

There’s a moment of silence before he huffs in frustration.

“Ask me how I know, Sylvie. Ask me how I know I’ve moved on from Gabby,” he repeats.

“I can’t.” She truly can’t.

She doesn’t want to know the answer. If it has to do with Sydney she won’t be able to hide her tears. He’s been on a handful of dates with the woman and with each one Sylvie is more and more convinced that he could never feel for her what she feels for him. It’s the only reason she even dared to try with Greg.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, eating up the last of the space between them.

Despite everything, all the cracks and breaks in her heart, there will always be only one answer to that question.

“Yes.”

“Then ask me.”

She looks away from him and down at her shoes. She’ll ask, but she won’t look at him while she says the words. Not this time. Last time the conflicting emotions on his face haunted her for hours after he left. She will not inflict that on herself again.

“How do you know you’ve moved on from Gabby?” She asks, sounding less than enthusiastic about the question.

“Because you’re the one I can’t move on from.”

That gets her attention. Her head lifts in an instant to bring her eyes back to his. She’s desperately trying to put out the embers of hope in her chest. The last thing she needs is to have them sparked back to life.

“I’m sorry?” She asks in confusion. She must have heard him wrong.

“You are the person who I can’t stop thinking about. You are the only person I want to be with even when I’m out with someone else. I have moved on from Gabby. I moved on from Gabby a long time ago. You’re the one I can’t let go of — the person I don’t want to let go of,” he says.

Each word was said with such passion that it stokes the flame she could never fully put out. She’s been trying to suffocate it all this time, but it’s been a futile effort. It’s still there, still burning.

“If we give up now, I can’t help but feel like we’ll be throwing away something that has the potential to be everything you and I have ever wanted,” Matt tells her as she reaches for her hands. He laces their fingers together and releases an anxious breath, his shoulders dropping as he exhales. “Don’t throw it away. Let me try. Please, let me try.”

“But what about Sydney?” She asks, barely biting back the ‘oh god, yes’ that’s on the tip of her tongue.

“What about her?” He asks, releasing one of her hands to bring his hand to her face. He cups her cheek and tenderly traces a thumb across the apple of her cheek. “We went on two dates and I spent both of them thinking about you.”

The brightness in his eyes is briefly clouded over with embarrassment as he blushes and grins. He squints one eye and winces. The sheepish expression it leaves behind is much too adorable.

“I might have called her Sylvie once.”

She should feel badly about that, shouldn’t she? Guilty that Sydney had to suffer because of her, maybe? But she doesn’t. In fact, that little anecdote forces a smile to break across her face. She would have rather kept it in, but he doesn’t give her much choice.

“You didn’t,” she says, biting her bottom lip to keep from chuckling at him.

“Oh, I definitely did,” he replies, laughing at himself with a contrite grimace. “It was awkward.”

“If it helps,” she says, inhaling deeply in an attempt at seeking strength. “I may not have called Greg by your name but I definitely spent the majority of the time we were together comparing him to you.”

“Spent?” He asks. “You and he aren’t...I mean you’re not still--”

“No,” she answers swiftly, cutting off his question. “It felt too underhanded to keep seeing him and wishing he were you. I couldn’t do it.”

At those words, he releases her other hand to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to him. His hand spans over her cheek and jaw, his forehead is pressed to hers, and they’re standing chest to chest with his arm circling her waist. He’s a breath away from kissing her and, even after the last several weeks, she’s ready and willing. She’s been dying to kiss him again from the very minute she asked him to leave.

“Please let me take you to breakfast after shift,” he requests, throat bobbing as he gulps anxiously. “I have so much I want to say to you and as much as I want to say it here…”

She nods against his forehead. “I know. We’re working.” Her hands land on his shoulders and then drift up his neck until her fingers can slip into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His eyes close at her touch and a noise leaves his throat. It’s deeper than a sigh but quieter than a moan.

“Yes,” she says, finally answering him. “Yes, Matt, you can take me to breakfast after shift.”

His eyes open again as soon as she uses his first name and he flashes her a blinding teeth revealing smile. It’s something so rare and yet completely perfect. Especially on him. His arms tightens around her waist and he ducks his head, diving in to kiss her.

His lips ghost over hers but before he can fully swoop in…

The bells go off.

He groans pathetically, dropping his head to her shoulder. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Despite her own disappointment she laughs loudly, stepping out of his arms. “Don’t worry,” she tells him, running a soft touch through his hair. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

His brows lift as they both begin to march toward the briefing room door. “Later?”

She nods with a sultry smile. “At my place after breakfast.”

His eyes are bright but his mouth drops open in pleasant surprise. She takes the opportunity to sprint off ahead of him.

“Remind me,” he calls after her. “How many more hours are left in this shift?”

All she can do is laugh in response. The day took an unexpected turn, to say the least, but she’s ready for it. She’s ready to try. Because Matt’s right, if they give up now they’ll never know and what they have feels special. It could be everything she’s ever wanted.

They’ll never know if they don’t try and the time has finally come to try.

#chicago fire #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #fanfiction #angellwings writes #my fic #ask prompt #fanfiction prompt game #I think this one is my personal favorite 🥺

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ilkkawhat · 3 years

Note

Any tips for first time writers? Specifically any tips and tricks for writing CSI stories and the Nick/Greg ship? Trying to stay in character and make the story interesting like a show episode instead of a boring text procedural is hard.

lmao as someone who is forever insecure about my own writing when it comes to keeping the characters in character, I think something to keep in mind is that you may view a character differently than someone else--and sometimes those views align with others, and most of the time it's better than what's presented in canon, and it can be really difficult to get confident about that, but I think that creating anything, even if it's not just writing--drawing, giffing, photo edits, etc, you do know and love that character enough to bring them to life under your hands and it's something that's just so like, poetic about keeping these characters alive, even if the show offed them or the show is cancelled, in these works (honestly the song "poet" by bastille says this best imo) and you may end up discovering parts of yourself as you explore these characters in depth, you'll learn more about them, too, and the more you write, the more confidence you will gain

but be weary of the validation trap (says someone who falls into it literally every time I post a fic)--do not rely on comments and feedback to let you know you're doing it "right." the fact that you're getting thoughts into words onto paper is good enough, and you are good enough and even if you don't end up sharing it, you still did something special that nobody else has done before, and that, is amazing!

I'm not gonna lie, a huge weakness of mine that I feel I've known ever since I started writing CSI fic is that I really don't do well in making cases for the CSIs to work on--and even when I do, the case is usually forgotten by the end of the fic and I end up just kinda focusing on the emotions between the characters and describing their feelings and actions the best I can and unfortunately the plot sometimes suffers because of that.

I guess it really depends on what you want out of your story--do you want a really intriguing case and basically make an episode of CSI, or do you want to kind of bend out of the procedural drama, and just write something fluffy like Nick/Greg going on a roadtrip or something actiony like them getting into some sort of trouble? (as I often do lmao)

Something that does always help me when I do decide I want an actual like, "plot" to the fic beyond just playing around with the characters and making them do things or experience things is that I'll make myself a very flexible outline--which I will admit, at times, does kinda drain the fun out of the actual writing part but I found that I'll try to write chapters/fics in segments in this way, like I'll have the start of a fic, and then when I feel like I need to break but want to write what I got going next, I'll have something in brackets like: [Self deprecation at home/drinking, evil Nick in the mirror?] (for agony), and sometimes maybe a bigger summary, and sometimes less to just kinda remind myself of what I wanted to accomplish with a fic

BUT know that there are gonna be things that pop up sometimes. twists that come to you halfway through a fic--or if you're lucky, you'll find that your reader friends will kinda give you a twist to add in (my fic Last Breath is the greatest example of this--I originally was gonna do like, 12 chapters but then @dannilea said "HEY MK GIVE NICK AMNESIA" and then the fic got doubled in length lmao) so don't feel confined to any sort of outline. go with the flow, go with what feels right for you.

I know it's a lesson I'm still learning myself, but do not pressure yourself with these sorts of things. there are no deadlines. you're not doing anything wrong. if you don't like something you wrote? don't delete it (i've deleted so many things--fics, my entire blog, old art and gifs I did and it's one of my biggest regrets that I carry with me and god...it just hurts) but don't be afraid to tweak, re-write or rework if you need to--I know ao3 has an option where you can even say something is a "remix" of another work if you write a fic and then somewhere down the line, decide to expand on it or change it up? (I think it's meant for that at least, I haven't done that sort of thing....yet)

and that's another thing--you'll always be learning new things as you keep writing. I've been writing since I was like, twelve years old. Had a long ass depressive gap (though I did still write some things, just not...as intensely as I used to) before I came back to the CSI fandom (which I never felt I contributed to before, when I joined tumblr I posted some caps but that was about it, it really wasn't until 2018 that I started giffing and writing and three years later lmao here we are!) and there are just hard lessons you do learn--like I said, the validation trap and pressure and all of that

but motivation wise, something I've been (trying) to do is write at least 100 words per day. Doesn't have to be a specific fic, doesn't have to be anything I intend to make a fic, but just...getting the words flowing. But again, no pressure, because I recently had another depressive bout and went 33 days without writing and it climaxed to me having another mental breakdown swearing I was never gonna write again and damn near deleting everything and giving up.........only to start writing again the next day (and full disclosure, I did have a friend helping me literally every day with that and if they read this, I hope they know how forever grateful I am that they convinced me to keep going and I would not actually be here without them)

You will need to recharge, you will need to be mindful of outside stresses that may be impacting your creative energies. And sometimes, you can try doing things not relating to writing at all. Make a playlist of songs that make you think about the fic; if you can, draw or make photo edits of the fic. find a friend to bounce ideas off of--so many of my fics were enriched by that, I can't even begin to list them all lol.

But above all, again, just know that what you're writing is unique to you, nobody else will be able to write the way you do, and that is just...so special. writing can be difficult, it's exhausting, it's a thankless job at times but when those words start clicking together and your fingers just keep typing/writing, you'll just kinda get this like, rush like nothing I've ever been able to match.

and lmao I know you said specifically CSI and Nick/Greg and feel like I got sidetracked--but the great thing about CSI is I feel like you'll have excuses to put them in situations given their line of work, but like I said before, you can bend out of the genre a little bit. Have Nick and Greg go on a vacation, or make an AU (even something as wild as a sci-fi AU--honestly Specimen Stokes is the most fun I've had in writing the past three years) or if you do want to stick to canon, and don't want to make a whole new case or elaborate on the details--play with an established episode. If there was a Nick focused episode, what was Greg doing and vice versa? Did they talk about things afterwards, or did something happen leading up to the episode that made them act a certain way around each other?

I'll honestly find inspiration also just watching the episodes--something I've been doing in these past few months of my rewatch is making little ficlets about the episode, like I wrote one about Nick and Greg post 6x02 elaborating on the breathplay that Greg hinted about earlier in the episode, or I made a revenge fic for 14x12 where that douchey abusive husband went after Nick, etc. So sometimes it helps to dive back into canon and play in that sandbox too

I hope these tips can help get you started and honestly, don't feel obligated to agree or do any of these things I listed above. We all have different ways of going about writing, and it is just one big learning process and something I don't think I'm ever gonna perfect or master in any sort of way--(not to say I think I'm the worst writer in the world but I just...try to humble myself and not believe I'm the best or better than anybody else cause that's part of the validation trap, you get those ideas in your head and then it can destroy you when you realize you're definitely not)--and there will be times you get heavily discouraged, but...you just gotta keep going. keep pushing. find outside encouragement, but don't rely on it. practice a lot of self care and don't pressure yourself to finish or share or write more than you think you can. just...let it come, and enjoy the ride

I honestly feel like I'm one of the least qualified to say all of these things, but I really do hope it helps and hey, you already got one cheerleader, me, who will be excited to read whatever you share!

#writing #(does this novel of advice count towards my word count goal 😂 jk i already hit it)#mk talks

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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

Note

Okay! I have a burning question for you, my dude. Music is my life, and I wanna know what kind of music the OPM casts listen to. Thanks, my guy!

I had a feeling this would be inevitable lol. I don’t really know a whole lot about music or genres or anything like that so I’m just gonna give you a rundown of each character individually and some song recs along with that just to smooth things out a little. Thanks for your ask, by the way! ❤️ Now my playlists will be put to good use.

A Brief Rundown of the Major OPM Characters’ Music Tastes:

Blast: hc that he doesn’t even have ears since he never fucking LISTENS

Terrible Tornado: Stuff that makes her feel powerful. Loud vocals and good instrumentals. Also, she’s a little angsty since she’s saltier than the gotdamn Pacific almost all of the time. (Recs: Florence and the Machine - How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, Susanne Sundfør - Delirious, Florence and the Machine - What Kind of Man, Kali Uchis - Dead to Me, Let’s Eat Grandma - Falling Into Me)

Fubuki: some of that real classy shit. Slow songs that are nice to just have a cup of tea with. Nothing too meaty or fast-paced, she enjoys taking a moment to breathe every once and a while since life gets pretty hectic when you’re managing a gang of some 30 hooligans. (Recs: Wes - Midnight Low, any song from Lana Del Rey’s entire discography lol, Florence and the Machine - Grace, The Marìas - I Don’t Know You, Yellow House - Ain’t Gonna Call, Feng Suave - Toking, Dozing)

Silverfang: Stuff from his time. I hc that he was a bit of a party animal back in his prime so he’s gotta have those grooves. Disco to the extremo. Also, another hc: Garou absolutely hates his music. He would play it during training and Garou would contemplate homicide. (Recs: Frankie Valli - Grease, The Edgar Winter Group - Free Ride, KC and the Sunshine Band - I’m Your Boogie Man, Matthew Wilder - Break My Stride, The Main Ingredient - Everybody Plays the Fool, Andrea True Connection - More, More, More)

Bomb: save as Silverfang, although I hc that Bomb was a little more of a nerd growing up. Still, he never missed out on a good party. (Additional Recs: KC and the Sunshine Band - Get Down Tonight, The Trammps - Disco Inferno, Tierra - Together, Cornelius Bros and Sister Rose - Too Late to Turn Back Now)

Atomic Samurai: Old shit. Shit older than Silverfang. He’s really not that old, but his soul is fucking ancient and he’s got that classic “grrr music these days sucks” kind of shithead attitude. (Recs: Jim Croce - Time in a Bottle, Dion - Runaround Sue, The Carpenters - The End of the World, The Band - The Weight)

Child Emperor: Upbeat synth. Stuff to listen to while he’s working on his machines and whatnot. Probably has meaty beats to keep him in tune with what he’s doing, like working around a clock. Probably some groovy citypop in there too. (Recs: Taeko Ohnuki - 4:00 AM, Junko Ohashi - Telephone Number, Tatsuro Yamashita - Magic Ways, Hiroyuki Sawano - NEXUS, Superfly - Kakusei, Mariya Takeuchi - Plastic Love)

Metal Knight: Intrumentals that Disney villains listen to. Deep, dark shit that makes you feel sad. He probably feeds off of negative emotion. What a toolbag. (Recs: Lucas King - Sociopath, Abel Korzeniowski- Table for Two, Max Richter - Never Goodbye, Max Richter - She Remembers, Evelyn Stein - Quiet Resource, Mac Quayle - Adagio in G Minor)

King: video game soundtracks, obviously. Might be some electro funk in there too, as a treat. (Recs: Metal Gear Solid 3 OST - Snake Eater, Mick Gordon - Rip and Tear, Xenoblade Chronicles OST - Main Theme, Persona 5 OST - Last Surprise, Daft Punk - Verdis Quo, Toby Fox - Hopes and Dreams, Disasterpeace - Prologue, iamthekidyouknowwhatimean - Run, Darren Korb - Old Friends)

Zombieman: Dad Music. Old rock that makes you wanna rail some lines of white thunder and dance on top of a car. He’d be reluctant to try out new stuff but does so nevertheless. Just a little bit of weird alternative here and there. (Recs: Poison - Unskinny Bop, Mötley Crüe - Dr. Feelgood, Black Sabbath - War Pigs, Def Leppard - Animal, CRX - Walls, MGMT - Little Dark Age, Pink Floyd - Money, Queens of the Stone Age - Villains of Circumstance)

Drive Knight: Dark synth, obviously. Need I say more? (Recs: El Tigr3 - She Swallowed Burning Coals, Trevor Something - Enjoy the Silence, Greg Drombrowski - Devour, GUNSHIP - Woken Furies, GUNSHIP - Thrasher, Carpenter Brut - Invasion A.D., Kavinsky - Nightcall)

Pig God: this guy probably just listens to ASMR of people eating food lol.

Superalloy Darkshine: Upbeat stuff that’s good for exercise; loving those new jams along with some of the old. He’s got a pretty groovy style. (Diane Ross - Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, Saint Motel - Puzzle Pieces, CRUISR - All Over, Barry White - Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up, Sade - Kiss of Life)

Watchdog Man: 10 hour loop of wolves howling on a summer night.

Flashy Flash: classical. Some nice instrumentals to listen to while training. Stuff that preferably doesn’t have any or very little lyrics so it’s not too busy on his ears while he’s fantasizing about killing someone. (Recs: Vaughn Williams - The Lark Ascending, Debussy - Rêverie, Grieg - Peace of the Woods, André Laplante - Une Barque sur L’Ocean)

Metal Bat: Modern alternative. A little bit harder than say, Mumen and Kama, but not as hard as Zombieman or Death Gatling. He’s that middle ground where he’s still got some real bangers, but Zenko can listen as well. He’ll play this stuff loudly as he’s doing chores and working out, no headphones ever. It gets pretty annoying. (Recs: Foals - Exits, The Blue Stones - Black Holes, Solid Ground, CRX - Broken Bones, Jungle - Happy Man, The Strokes - Reptilia, We Are Trees - Girlfriend)

Genos: synth. But not just any synth, some heavy, fast-paced synth that’s just like him: speedy, relentless, and powerful. He listens to shit that’ll make you wanna get up and start killing Terminators. Probably. There’s some other synths in the mix too because we love a three-dimensional king. (Recs: Carpenter Brut - Division Ruine, The Protomen - I Still Believe, Carpenter Brut - Leather Teeth, Gunship - Tech Noir, TWRP - Phantom Racer, Le Castle Vania - Red Circle)

Tanktop Master: Dad music but the type of dad music that makes you think your dad was a sappy nerd back in the day. Long tracks that are good for workouts. (Tears for Fears - Woman in Chains, Pink Floyd - Us and Them, Duran Duran - Ordinary World, Billy Idol - Eyes without a Face, A Flock of Seagulls - I Ran, The Alan Parsons Project - Eye in the Sky, Tears for Fears - Sowing the Seeds of Love)

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Pop. Dance music. He doesn’t really get to listen to a lot of music in prison, so he holds on to whatever he can and savors every second of it. (Coldplay - Talk, Bruno Mars - Runaway Baby, Lady Gaga - Bad Romance, Flo Milli - Beef Flomix, Doja Cat - Say So)

Mumen Rider: Hes a lighthearted, soft boy. Likes some fluffy indie tunes. It helps to motivate him when working out or doing hero stuff. He might need to cry every once in a while though, so there’s some sad songs in the mix too. (Recs: Varsity - The Dogs Only Listen to Him, The The - This is the Day, Amarante - Don’t Look Back, Alvvays - Saved by a Waif, The Monkees - As We Go Along, Acid Ghost - Hide my Face, Mogwai - Take Me Somewhere Nice)

Sonic: same as Flash. He’s a little more hip with the times however, so he’s got some more groovy, electronic instrumentals to listen to in addition to some elegant stuff and isn’t opposed to having a little bit of lyrics sprinkled in there as well. In fact, he’s not opposed to uppity pop either. He thinks dancing is frivolous but he secretly does it when he thinks nobody is looking. (Additional Recs: Odesza - Bloom, Pretty Lights - One Day They’ll Know [Odesza Remix], BØRNS - Electric Love, Hembree - Culture, The Cinematic Orchestra - Arrival of the Birds)

Garou: same as Metal Bat. Bang let him have a little MP3 player during his time at the dojo and has since collected a few songs on there. They’re very near and dear to his heart since it’s one of the few good things that came from his absolute disaster of a childhood. (Additional Recs: Foals - Inhaler, CRX - Slow Down, Deep Sea Arcade - Close to Me, Gorillaz - Empire Ants, The Fratellis - Chelsea Dagger, Glass Animals - Take A Slice)

Death Gatling: Shit your old Vietnam-vet grandpa would blast on the back of his F150. He gives me self-righteous asshole vibes, if I’m honest. Like, don’t get me wrong, I like Death Gatling, but he seems like the type of trailer park-dwelling sewer rat to carry a revolver into a Walmart for “self defense” and that’s probably the type of music he listens to, too. (Recs: Megadeth - Trust, Megadeth - Angry Again, Creedence Clearwater Revival - Fortunate Son, Glen Campbell - Southern Nights, Mötley Crüe - Kickstart My Heart, Quiet Riot - Cum on Feel the Noize)

One-Shotter: I hard hc that he had an emo phase he never quite grew out of. He doesn’t quite listen to emo anymore but he’s still into that alternative shit. Homeboy also likes some slow tunes every once and a while because he’s an emotional dude who’s not afraid of a good cry. (Recs: Anything from Blink-182, Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?, MGMT - When You Die, Mazzy Star - Fade Into You, Cigarettes After Sex - Dreaming of You, Yon Ort - Other Matter)

Lightning Max: Same as Genos but without the terminator-killing. Fast-paced stuff because he’s a fast lightning dude. A little more upbeat because he’s not as much as an edgelord as Genos, however. (Additional Recs: Carpenter Brut - Hang’em All, The Flaming Lips - Do You Realize, Worn Tin - Sensitivity, B.E.R. - The Night Begins to Shine, Martin Hall - Different Kind of Love)

Stinger: he’s all about that FUNK! Stuff that gets him moving! Stuff that makes him wanna dance! (Recs: Daft Punk - Doin’ it Right, TWRP - Body Image, Wild Cherry - Play that Funky Music, Chemise - She Can’t Love You, Saga - Wind Him Up, Saga - On the Loose, TWRP - All Night Forever)

Okamaitachi: they give me electro vibes! New, modern shit that’s good to dance to or to just sit down and have a listen! Also, some shit that’ll probably play in a coming-of-age teen movie or something. They don’t really vibe with heavy music and that’s alright, babey! Keeping it light and bouncy. (Recs: Tei Shi - Bassically, Varsity - Must Be Nice, Class Actress - Weekend, CHVRCHES - Richard Pryor, Alvvays - Marry Me, Archie, Sobs - Telltale Signs, Goth Babe - Sometimes, ALASKALASKA - Meateater)

Iaian: Nice, low tunes that are good for meditation and to be used for background noise during training sessions. He never really sits down to listen to music, it’s always in the background of something else he’s doing so he prefers to have some soft beats that don’t really interfere with his senses. Tunes so quiet, he sometimes uses them as lullabies; especially since the trauma of losing his arm has since made it hard to sleep. (Recs: Boy Scouts - Saddest Boy, Susanne Sundfør - Mantra, Vashiti Bunyan - If I Were the Same but Different, Starman Jr. - Blue Fairy, Patrick Watson - Je te Laisserai des Mots, Sibylle Baier - I Lost Something in the Hills)

Bushidrill: same as Atomic Samurai just without the shitty attitude. He’s happy to listen to some newer stuff, he just doesn’t like it and that’s okay, baby! Probably some classy shit your wise old grandpa would listen to. (Recs: Dean Martin - Volare, Dion - The Wanderer, Peppino Gagliardi - Che Vuole Questra Musica Stasera, anything from Luis Miguel lol, Franco Micalizzi - Sadness Theme)

Amai Mask: probably just listens to his own music like a putz. If not, he’s listening to the sound equivalent of glittering diamonds. He’s probably got this shit playing at the end of a long day while he’s chilling in a hot bath or something. (Recs: Fergie - Glamorous, Rita Ora - Hot Right Now, Lana Del Rey - Freak, Lana Del Rey - Art Deco, Tame Impala - Feels Like We Only Go Backwards)

Saitama: He doesn’t listen to music much anymore, sadly. He did, however, have a killer motivational mix to get him through his vigorous training prior to becoming a hero. (Recs: Paul Engemann - Push it to the Limit, Journey - Don’t Stop Believin’, College & Electric Youth - A Real Hero, Joe Esposito - You’re the Best Around, Survivor - Eye of the Tiger, The Bee Gees - Nights on Broadway)

Here’s the playlist with all of these songs in order (mostly):

It’s on YouTube because I’m allergic to Spotify. I’ve got a doctor’s note. Also, all of my other playlists are on my little profile thingy so if you want to listen to my pile then go right ahead.

Thanks for your ask, my dude! ❤️ this took up ALL of my energy lol but it was fun.

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marvelous-space-nerd · 4 years

Text

You’re the one who got stabbed

Stole this idea from the lovely @witched-the-watcher (x). Hope you like it!

ao3 link

‘So I heard you were in need of a saviour, a witcher in particular. Good news my dear friend here I am.’

‘You look like a bard to me.’

He let out a gasp. ‘Well I am technically speaking a witcher, I mean look at the cat eyes! They somehow didn’t turn as yellow as most witcher’s eyes but still. I survived it all and I'm here to help you. Me and my friend.’

‘Your friend at least looks like a witcher.’

‘That’s not my fault. You know what I’ll let him tell you the truth. Geralt! He won't believe me! Again!’

The larger witcher got up and walked to the talking pair. ‘Technically speaking he is a witcher, not a good one, but a witcher nonetheless.’

‘Thank you Geralt- Wait what? Not a good one? I'm still alive it looks to me like I'm doing great!’

‘Sorry for my friend. He can tell you all about his training days to make you believe him later.’ If looks could kill Geralt would be dead right now, not that this particular witcher could ever kill him. Even Geralt has no idea how he survived any of the trials, or how he survived anything in general. He asked about the contract and went on his way, a few insectos had a nest in the area. Jaskier kept following him, in his leather armour for once and ranting about how he isn’t actually such a bad witcher. That idiot used to knock himself out when fighting a fucking training dummy. Vesemir told him about his training and he still can't believe anything from it.

***

‘Look I have some very important business to attend to dear Vesemir. So I sadly have to skip this training session.’ The sixteen year old witcher said. He could see how tired Vesemir was getting but he continued anyway. He really hated training, he wasn’t good at it and he’d preferably do whatever the fuck he wants. He didn’t choose to be a witcher, it was his parents stupid decision to let a witcher invoke the law of surprise. And now he survived the trial of the grasses, and they still won’t let him go. He got so angry he named himself after a flower just to fuck with Vesemir. It was a poisonous flower and you definitely shouldn't rub it over your skin, but it was a flower nonetheless.

Vesemir let out a sigh ‘And, Jaskier, what is this business?’

‘Well.. I need to study, I was doing that before you called us for the training and I was having a blast honestly. It would be a real shame if I lost my concentration.’

‘Name one fact you learned, a real one and you may go.’ Fuck fuck fuck I’ll just make one up he won’t notice a thing.

‘Uhm.. let me think I learned so much I don’t know where to start.’ He just kept looking at him disapprovingly. ‘Ah I got it! There once was a forktail near here who instead of attacking people fell asleep in the courtyard!’ Gods he was so good at lying ‘And that was a fact so I’ll be going-’ The older man grabbed his shirt and yanked him towards the training ground. ‘By the gods Vesemir that’s just rude!’

‘I have an idea. Fight me and if you don’t lose you can skip tomorrow's training.’

‘And what if I lose?’

‘You have to go out and hunt a monster. That enough motivation for you?’ Oh he was going to win this fight so bad.

‘Fine, just know that I will win and have such a good day tomorrow.’ He could barely say anything more due to the fact that Vesemir swung his sword at him. He barely avoided it and grabbed his own sword from his back. He tried to find his gripping and swung his sword at Vesemir. Who avoided it way too easily before walking closer. This is my chance he thought, but before he knew it something yanked his ankles away from the floor and he fell. All that he could remember after that was the pain in his head and how the world became black.

He woke up still lying on the cold floor. He could still hear the clattering of swords as he waited for the headache to pass so he could open his eyes until he heard Vesemir speak up.

‘Open your eyes I know you’re awake.’

‘But my head, it hurts. Honestly I don’t think opening them will make thing much better. I’ll just lie here until training’s over.’ He said still keeping his eyes closed.

‘You’re already a hazard to yourself and everyone else when you don’t have a concussion, you can go to your room and prepare for the hunt.’

His eyes snapped open and he immediately regretted it. ‘Wait you were serious about that? I really need to fight a monster?’

‘Dead serious. I expect to see something before tomorrow.’

‘But I’ll die.’

‘If you’ve paid attention to anything you wouldn’t.’

‘Fine! But I choose the monster and I don’t have to train anymore today.’

‘As long as you bring a monster it’s fine. Now go before you hurt someone other than yourself.’

He got up and tried to find his balance before going to his room. He didn’t know a lot of the potions but he knew swallow, the healing potion. He didn’t get them from others anymore so he made some himself and put them in his room. Even some of the best witchers get hurt sometimes he always told himself. He sat down on his bed next to his home made lute. He didn’t have any coin and no one wanted to get him one, so he made his own. It sounded horrible but with the help of a book he stole he was able to practice and write songs. This whole witcher thing wasn’t going to stop him from doing what he wants. He drank the dose of swallow and started collecting his stuff. Two swords, one steel and one silver, only take the silver one when you need to it’s a soft metal so it will break sooner bla bla bla. This might be one of the few facts he remembered and it was for a reason. Every day they said it until he remembered it. Rope seems to be a handy thing to take and a few doses of swallow. He put it next to his armour and checked if he had everything. I mean he’s never actually hunted something so he wouldn’t know, but it seemed like it could be everything. He put on his armour, which he dyed all kinds of beautiful shades of blue, despite Vesemir's protests.

‘Witchers wear black, that’s a trademark colour please don’t dye it blue.’ It only motivated him more to do it. So he lied to Vesemir by telling him that blue is almost black and he dyed it blue. He might have found out how magic works in the progress, he found an old book talking about other uses than the one-handed spells witchers used and he gave his armour the prettiest colours using magic. After that he turned to his normal clothes and turned them into gorgeous doublets so he wouldn't have to walk around in old rags anymore. He was on cleanup duty for a month and he didn’t regret a thing.

He headed out when his head stopped hurting, which might have been fifteen minutes or so. Moments like this made him thankful for witcher’s enhanced healing abilities. He didn’t have his own horse so he grabbed a white shared horse called weed. She was a bit of an ugly horse but she was lovely. He went out looking for a simple creature to take back home. He first went to the watchtower to see if anything simple was nearby. He got off weed when the road started becoming narrow and continued on foot. He climbed to watch tower and checked the surroundings. He didn’t expect to see much and definitely not a six armed demon horse with god knows how many eyes.

‘Oh I am definitely going to take you back home.’ He said to himself. He went back to weed and rode to where he saw the creature. He had no idea how but he found it, but he saw it. It was standing in a clearing in the woods and there were no others creatures near.

‘What now, it’s basically another horse right? Just tame it and take it back? Sounds like a plan right weed?’ He got off and slowly started walking towards the creature. Vesemir didn’t say anything about it needing to be alive or dead and he really wanted his own horse.

‘Now, how to tame a demon horse. Any ideas Weed? No of course not you’re a horse and I can't send you to him he if you die Vesemir will kill me for real. So maybe I’ll just name it, what to name a demon horse with six arms…’

Greg

‘I'm a genius, let’s do this. Greg?’ He called to the whatever it was. It didn’t seem startled but all of it’s thirteen eyes were locked on him. ‘Hi, I..uhm.. am in need of a horse and you would truly be my saviour.’ Fuck fuck fuck what now. ‘I have a rope, and I can use it to guide you back home, and we can be friends, obviously only if you want to and you would really help me out. So,’ He grabbed the rope and made a lasso out of it, a big one. This thing might look like a horse but it had an enormous head. ‘I'm just gonna put this around your neck and you, my new friend are coming home with me.’ He said while slowly getting closer, it seemed to be saying things in elven but Jaskier couldn’t care less. He needed to bring back a creature and this would be perfect, and bonus, he seems like a perfect horse and friend. He stood before it and slowly put the rope around his neck, while Greg looked at him with all his thirteen eyes. He patted him a little bit before going back to weed. He took the end of the rope and thankfully Greg followed him. He walked back towards weed, who seemed shocked and started panicking.

‘Weed it's fine! This is Greg, a friend, and he is, partially, a horse! He’ll be your friend! Now come on we gotta walk all the way back so I can bond with Greg. Look, Weed I love you but I need my own horse anyway so will you pretty please follow me back to Kaer Morhen?’ The horse did not seem to care. ‘Righty, I guess I can sit on your back but we’re going to walk slow if Greg runs I might actually have to fight something.’ He got on weed, still holding the rope attached to Greg. He kept looking at him and talking to him the whole ride, the seemed to become less tense when they got to Kaer Morhen. Or he thought, he was still talking about a thirteen eyes demon horse. The gate was closed so he got of Weed and knocked on it. Vesemir came to open the door and when he did he just stared in disbelief. Not the kind that says “wow Jaskier you did it!”, it was more of a “Jaskier what the fuck did you take back here!?”. But he didn’t say anything, he just stared with a tired look on his face.

‘Vesemir!’ Jaskier said after a while of silence. ‘You told me to bring back a monster so here I am! This is Greg and he’s going to be my horse and friend.’

‘You are so lucky I have to take care of you and not any other witcher who would have really killed you now.’

‘What do you mean? I did what you asked, I brought back a monster. You never said that said monter wasn’t allowed to be my own horse.’

‘No, strike it down and get this over with, Jaskier.’ He let out a gasp and coverved what were probably Greg’s ears.

‘No! He’s my horse I'll strike your horse down if you lay one finger on him!’ Vesemir just sighed

‘If he destroys anything he leaves directly, now make sure the others don’t see him.’

Jaskier was practically jumping with joy right now. He led Greg to the stables and put him in an empty one. He started brushing and washing him afterwards. He put a saddle on him and tried to find reins that fit on this creature's head, but gave up after a while. He knew horses needed to get used to wearing gear, so he took the saddle off and before going to bed, he’d find a solution for the reins tomorrow. It wasn’t only something he wanted to do, but also a great excuse to skip tomorrow's training.

***

‘Goddamnit Jaskier! I told you to stay away this time!’

‘Geralt I too am a witcher I- ah!- watch out you brute!’

‘We’ve been traveling for centuries you should know by now that you almost always get hurt!’

‘You should know how to drag a stabbed man correctly by now without - ah!- hurting him with every step!’

The hunt went wrong, again. Even Geralt couldn’t believe that this man had been a witcher for a couple centuries and he still got hurt on almost every contract they- he went on. Jaskier almost never helped, except for when he distracted the monster and gave Geralt a chance to strike it down. This time that was supposed to happen, only this time Geralt wasn’t fast enough to strike it down, and it stabbed Jaskier. And it stabbed him good, right in the left kidney to be precise. Luckily for him he already got stabbed before in the same kidney, a healer said his kidney would regrow within a couple years but it would function worse. At least he still only had one bad kidney and one good one. They walked straight passed the inn where they’d get their reward and went to the healer’s house. Thank god this town had a magical healer. Jaskier was fine all of the time, but he has been way to close for way to many times, and Geralt still hated it every time it happened. As far as they knew he was still mortal, it was almost impossible for him to die of old age, but he still was able to bleed out. And oh god did he lose a lot of blood. He left behind a trail on the ground, and sadly also on Geralt, but anyone could follow them from the monster to the healers hut with ease. He didn’t even care to knock when they got there, he just pushed the door open with his shoulder and walked in, still dragging Jaskier who was now bleeding all over the healer’s floor. The healer was a young blonde woman with dark eyes. She was wearing a turquoise blouse and a skirt which consisted of all kinds of rags. She looked at the pair and quickly told them to sit Jaskier down on the bed while she grabbed her stuff. When Jaskier was sitting he stripped him from his clothes, knowing from experience that he needed to take them off anyway. He quickly discarded them on the floor and took a look at the wound. It did not look pretty, it was bleeding a lot and you could just see his kidney, or what was left of it at least. The healer quickly came back, she took of the rags that formed her skirt and she as wearing a pair of leather pants and an apron with old stains on it. She had a bag or supplies and put it on the ground next to Jaskier and started doing her job.

‘What happened?’ She asked while she started cleaning the wound, or at least she tried to, Jaskier was demonstrating quite a lot.

‘I.. uhm ah! be careful!’

‘We were fighting some insectoids and one stabbed him.’

‘He got hurt here before?’

‘Yes, how-’

‘The scar tissue around it. He’s really unlucky.’

‘You’re wrong I am the luckiest witcher’s on the- ow do you mind?’

‘Agreed, he’s a horrible witcher, it’s a wonder he’s still alive.’

‘Geralt I swear if you call- oh goddamnit! That hurt.’

‘I’m going to stich it up now, I don't have anything for you to bite on sadly.’

‘Geralt I'm going to squeeze you hand whether you like it or not.’ Before he could say anything Jaskier grabbed his hand and was ready to squeeze it. She held a needle and threat close to the wound and Jaskier looked at her hand, clearly not looking forward to it. The moment the needle entered his skin he looked away and squeezed his hand. He had an surprising amount of strength for a man who just lost a lot of blood.

‘Ah! that, fuck that will always hurt, goddamnit.’

‘Then don’t get stabbed as much as you do.’ He was basically curled up on him right now. For someone who gets stabbed as often as he does he’s very bad at dealing with getting stitched up. It took a while before she said something again.

‘Sit still or it will only hurt more, trust me.’ Jaskier didn’t respond anymore, his eyes we’re still opened, but he seemed to barely stay awake. Looks like the adrenaline started to disappear from his body. He put him a bit straighter despite his grunts of protest so the healer can do her job right. When she finished stitching him up he had fully lost consciousness and Geralt put him on the bed.

‘I’d like to use some spells before I’m done.’

‘Knock yourself out.’

She said something in elvish and let her now glowing hands hover over the wound. After a while she spoke up again.

‘How long have you been traveling together?’

‘Too long, centuries I think? They all said I wouldn’t last a week.’

‘Who is they?’

‘The other witchers.’

‘Tell me more, might give you a discount if you do.’

***

Even Jaskier had to admit it, he did not expect to make it through the trials, he honestly didn’t even expect to live long enough to see the trials. At least this would mean he’d get to hit the road, but not alone, of course Vesemir wouldn’t let him go alone. He might look like he hasn’t slept in years because of him, but he still didn’t want him to die. He was, and always will be angry with him for invoking the law of surprise on his parents, but he did raise him. And he was better than most other older witcher at Kaer Morhen. He didn’t yell at him every time he did something wrong, and oh god did he do a lot wrong, he was like a father figure for him, despite everything. He still cut himself when grabbing a sword without gloves so he might haven’t really done a good job, but Jaskier did not make it easy for him. All he had to do now was wait for another witcher to show up, preferably the white wolf. He’s heard so much about him and if he was going to be the only witcher to not be allowed to hit the road alone, he was at least going to be traveling with someone famous. He told Vesemir about his preferences and he just said if he shows up within a month you can go with him. What he didn’t tell him was that he wasn’t going to take no as an answer. And he right now really started to think he didn’t have to fight him anymore, a large white haired man just walked in, and Vesemir almost ran towards him.

‘Geralt!’

‘Vesemir. You told me to come.’

‘Yes I did, I have an apprentice for you.’

‘A what-’

‘Jaskier! Here, now!’ He got up and walked towards them. ‘You’re going to be traveling with him, now’ He put a hand on his shoulder.’Good luck, and I am finally going to take a peaceful nap.’ And he walked off, not looking back. Jaskier knew he cared about him, but it still hurt, seeing him walk off without looking back.

‘You’re not traveling with me.’

‘Yes I am, fellow witcher, I-’

‘I don't believe your a witcher.’

‘That’s just rude, I am a perfectly capable witcher. I even have a demon horse and it’s way better than any regular horse, but that’s not the point. Vesemir didn’t even introduce me properly. I’m Jaskier.’ He gave him his hand and he shook it.

‘Geralt of Rivia, not making you my apprentice.’

‘No you’re not, I already am and I’m impossible to get rid of. I have way to many questions for you.’

‘Spill it out.’

‘Since you insist upon it, first question. How did you dye your hair white? No one wanted to tell me how you did it and I was thinking how I could dye my own hair cornflower blue to go with my armour. Did you know I dyed it using magic? I-’

‘Loss of pigmentation from all the experiments. Next question.’

‘What’s your opinion on poetry? I wrote a few ballads but I only have a makeshift lute so we just gotta get to the nearest town and get me a good one so I can play in taverns and make coin and we’re all set for adventure.’

‘Why would I take you with me?’ Fuck he wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Guilt trip him maybe?

‘What about Vesemir? He raised you too didn’t he? Just try it for him and if after a week you still hate me I'll leave.’ He wasn’t going to leave after a week no matter what. ‘It will be great fun and I'll pay you back the lute, promised.’

‘No’

‘Not taking no for an awser, we’re leaving today.’

‘Fine, but only if you don’t bring us in danger.’ He had no idea what changed his mind, but he was happy with this development. He needed to grab his stuff before leaving, he was lookin forward to this, but it did come kind of unexpected.

‘I'll get my stuff and I'll introduce you to Greg when I come back! He’s amazing and honestly quite scary sometimes but you’ll love him I assure you.’

‘Hm’ Was all that he heard before he left to his room to grab his stuff. He folded his clothes and put them in a bag, his armour was made of leather and so he managed to fold it up a bit too. He still hated wearing it, it was heavy and sweaty and he only wore it when he needed to. He got his personal belongings and left what he could. His homemade lute, he was getting a new one anyway. And his books about music and spells, he already knows every sentence in all of the books. And all of the junk he put in his room, he was just planning on leaving it. Vesemir told him they weren’t taking in new witchers anymore, so he figured he could just come back anytime.

He took his bags to Greg and saddled him up. He was so much tamer than the first time he met him. He still tranced out sometimes and spoke gibberish in elven, but he was able to ride him. He was ready for his adventure, he still didn’t look forward to being a witcher, but that’s what Geralt’s for. He can be a witcher while he can sing in taverns, making coin his own way. He probably had to help sometimes, but he’d be fine. He had been training for his whole life, how bad could it possibly get?

He grabbed the reins and walked towards the courtyard.

‘Geralt!’

‘Greg?’

‘Yeah, found him two years ago or so. I had to come back with a monster because I failed training and I found him. He isn’t a monster, he’s honestly a really good horse but he passed as one, a monster I mean. And since then I had my own horse, he’s a bit.. creepy sometimes but he’s amazing.’

‘He’ll scare the villagers.’

‘He won't! Everyone will love him trust me. Now let’s go I need you to hear my ballads on an actual lute!’

‘I’m not buying you one.’

‘I'll pay it back, trust me. Now let’s go you still haven’t told me about your opinion on poetry.’

‘You’re not going to make me regret making you stay are you?’

‘Geralt I would never. I survived the trials so I am a good witcher. Now get on your boring regular horse and let’s go!’

He got on his horse and left first, Jaskier following and talking about anything and everything. And Geralt’s responses started getting longer and longer, and before any of them knew it, they were a couple centuries in.

***

‘And you just let him stick around?’ The healer asked

‘Didn’t have a choice. He stuck to me like glue.’

‘He paid back the lute?’

‘Within a month, started earning his own part after that.’

‘He’s your complete opposite’

‘Opposites attract.’

Silence filled the room for a while, she did her job while Geralt just watched. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway he told himself. It was a relief when Jaskier ultimately woke up.

‘Ugh.. I.. what happened?’

‘You were stabbed, again.’

‘So nothing new. Oh my head.’

‘You lost a lot of blood.’

‘And you’re very lucky to be alive, and the worst witcher I’ve ever seen so please be more careful next time.’ The healer said.

‘I was! I- ah’ He tried to move a little bit. ‘it still hurts.’

‘Yeah, you heal fast so it should only hurt a couple of days. Just stick to the lute playing for a while.’

‘How do you know about that?’

‘I told her, thought it’d be polite.’

‘It was, and I don’t say this quick, but you’re the worst witcher I’ve ever heard of.’

‘You guys are horrible do you know that?’

‘You’re the one who got stabbed.’

‘Touché’ He might be the worst witcher to have ever walked the continent, but he still was his friend, his brother maybe, he still didn’t know what to call him, but he was happy that he’s met him. But that idiot really should be sticking to his lute play

#witcher jaskier #the witcher #Jaskier #greg the demon horse #vesemir #witcher!jaskier #Geralt of Rivia #I did cut this but tumblr decided to completely ignore that fact #my writing

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bucketsofgiggles · 5 years

Text

To Be There

Steven Universe Future fanfic, a missing scene from "Growing Pains", from Greg's POV. Greg tries to be the best father he can, considering the circumstances, as he also grapples with the idea he hasn't been the best father. AO3 link in the reblog.

As Steven shrunk back down to normal size, Greg quickly reached out to pull his son into an embrace. He's relieved when Steven accepts it readily, considering what he had just recently been through. And there was clearly much more going on that Greg wasn’t aware of.

“ How am I supposed to live my life when it always feels like I’m about to die? ”

Those words kept echoing. What exactly had led Steven to feel such a way? How had he, as a father, not noticed such a drastic change in his son?

There’s a quick nock on the door, which causes Steven to tense in his arms. Rubbing his son’s back, Greg turns his head to see who walked in. Dr. Priyanka Maheswaran stands just inside the room, shutting the door behind her, a stack of papers in her arms. She meets his eyes as the door shuts and the initial look of fury the doctor gives him makes Greg jump. While her professional face slips back on quickly, Steven still notices.

“You okay, Dad?” His voice is muffled in Greg’s shoulder and he spots Dr. Maheswaran’s eyes soften at the question.

“Yeah, Schtew-ball, it’s just Dr. Maheswaran.”

“...Without Connie?”

Yeah, that’s gonna be a sore spot for a bit. “Yep, just her.”

She doesn’t move when she speaks up. “Take all the time you need, Steven.”

Steven takes a few more big, shuddering breaths, squeezes his father tightly for a second, then breaks away. He rubs his eyes slightly as he looks around Greg for Dr. Maheswaran. “I’m ready now.”

She nods in response. “I have some questionnaires I need you to fill out. Please answer them honestly,” She states, crossing the room to Steven and hands him the papers and a pen. “I’m going to speak to your father in my office for a bit, so please wait here until we return. Feel free to put your regular clothes back on.”

Steven nods and heads over to a desk in the corner of the room, gabbing his clothes along the way. He glances over the top sheet of the stack. Greg didn’t get a chance to see what kind of “questionnaires” they were exactly.

With Steven’s back turned, Dr. Maheswaran levels Greg a withering glare. Whatever she wants to speak with him about in her office, it can’t be good. Greg swallows hard as he turns to follow her out of the exam room. He turns back in the doorway.

“Steven, please text me if you need anything, okay?” He glances up from the papers, and gives his dad a ghost of a smile as he nods. Greg doesn’t miss the way his face falls as he turns back towards the papers, his narrowing eyes storming as he reads.

Following Dr. Maheswaran to her office, he is very much reminded of his school day trips to the principal. But there are two very different factors now: A. Greg hasn’t the foggiest idea why Dr. Maheswaran is so angry at him and B. His son is involved somehow. Has Steven been hurt? Was someone hurting him? Why didn’t Steven tell him? Or the Gems?

They walk in, Dr. Maheswaran shutting the door behind him, and silently indicates for him to take a seat. The office is just as meticulous as Greg expected, with not a single piece of paper or chart out of place. The filing cabinets are clearly labeled, the textbooks and journals on the selves are in alphabetical order by author last name, and her screensaver is the same family picture from the Maheswaran’s New Years card. The only personal effects are her medical degrees and licenses hanging on the wall and a few framed pictures of Connie and her husband on her desk. She quickly sits down behind the desk and tents her hands, obscuring her mouth but leaving her furious eyes well exposed.

“So, uh,” Greg desperately tries to break the tension. “How did your exam go-”

“Greg Universe, please explain to me how your teenage son has never been to a doctor before?” She doesn’t yell, but her tone is withering. Greg feels himself slide down in his seat in shame.

“Well, uh, the lack of health insurance sure didn’t help.”

“There are programs to help with that, especially for single parents.”

“Yeah, but how was I supposed to explain Steven to any doctor? You gotta realize he wasn’t born in a hospital, or even in a…” Greg fumbles on his words, cursing the way his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “You know, typical way.”

“Well that’s why he seemed confused when I asked for his social security number. Does he even have a birth certificate?”

“No…”

“Has he even been vaccinated?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in them! But with his physiology, I had no idea how they would react-”

“ Greg Universe ”

“Look, things were chaotic! My wife was dead, I had a newborn son who isn’t even fully human, I was alternating living out of my van and crashing on a friends couch, without health insurance! And do you think if I had taken him in and said ‘Hey, here’s my newborn son with a gemstone stuck in his naval. His mother was an immortal alien being who fought a war to defend the Earth thousands of years ago, and died to give birth to him. I’m raising him alongside her fellow alien friends who also have gemstones stuck in their bodies. Oh, and I didn’t even have the type of gemstone right at the time because his mother lied about who she was to escape her horrible home planet! ’ How would you have reacted?”

“It did take me witnessing Steven in action to fully believe it," Dr. Maheswaran shrugs a bit, her face relaxing slightly.

“Look, I did strongly consider it multiple times, but I was afraid of how they’d treat him. Plus, Steven never got sick or injured. Never. Not even those non-stop sniffles little kids get. Not a cold, not a fever, not a stomach bug; he was exceptionally healthy his entire childhood. Heck, he never even scraped his knees!”

Dr. Maheswaran sighs at that. “That actually leads well into one thing I found that we need to discuss.” She turns towards her computer screen, shakes the mouse to wake it up, and starts typing and clicking rapidly, leaving Greg clueless as to what she meant. Did Steven get hurt? Was he sick? After all these years and all the various incredible things he’s done, it seemed almost comical.

Then Dr. Maheswaran turned her screen around, and any thought of this situation being a comedy died. It's an x-ray of an upper body labeled “Universe, Steven ''. He didn’t need a doctor’s trained eye to see the various cracks and fracture lines running throughout Steven’s skeletal system, spiderwebbing through his ribs, spiraling down his upper arms, and some truly large and painful-looking breaks to his face.

“H- how?” Greg sputters, though he knows the reason - Steven’s healing powers.

“It seems that Steven’s Gem half is able to instantaneously heal any physical injury, major or minor, he experiences. The bones set and re-heal from the moment they break.” She hits the arrow keys and a few more images scroll past: His arms, legs, back, close-ups of his face, hands, and feet. All of them have some healed fracture lines on them, evidence that despite him never saying a word, Steven had been getting severely hurt for years. His son was getting this badly injured and Greg never noticed. Despite the horror gnawing at his gut, he couldn’t look away.

“Now, this is unprecedented in the medical field. Miraculous, even. And every test I ran on your son came back negative. Steven is physically a perfectly healthy teenage boy, even with his injury history.”

“Well then, that’s good, right?”

Dr. Maheswaran sighed. “These kinds of injuries...some of them only occur in cases of severe physical trauma. And Steven listed for me a number of incredibly severe, repeated instances of traumatic experiences he went through as a child. And then he indicated to me that that wasn’t all of them. I know his upbringing and heritage is...unusual, but he still has human anatomy and a human mind. And any human, especially a child or teenager, who went through that number and level of traumatic experiences for as long as he did is going to experience some mental effects.

“The questionnaires I gave Steven before we left the room were diagnostic screeners for Adverse Childhood Experiences, Major Depressive Disorder in teens, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in teens. And I might not be a psychiatrist, but I can say, based on my exam and conversation with Steven, that I am 98% certain of the PTSD diagnosis and 95% on the depression diagnosis. Those screeners are just a last bit of confirmation, as well as further evidence for his chart. Mr. Universe, your son is experiencing major mental health challenges.”

Greg stares at the doctor, slack jawed. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels a tear trace down his cheek. He goes to brush it away, and finds his hands are shaking. “I-I don’t...how did I not see?”

Dr. Maheswaran gives Greg a look of sympathy for the first time. “Honestly, I don’t think Steven even realizes just how much an effect all his traumatic experiences have had on him. That’s not at all uncommon, especially in cases like his where multiple traumatic events were experienced.” Greg groans, and Dr. Maheswaran pulls a box of tissues out from behind her desk and hands them to him. “Steven has experienced so many traumatic events that his body and mind have almost gotten used to being in mortal peril. But now that he no longer isn’t experiencing that, his body isn’t used to dealing with much more minor forms of stress, so it does what it’s used to; preparing for a potentially deadly scenario.”

And Steven’s words finally make sense. Steven has spent years realistically believing he might die, and now it’s all he’s ever known. All those Gem missions, over all the years… Greg had let him go. Greg had allowed Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl to take his son out on various dangerous, potentially deadly missions multiple times. And he stayed back, not wanting to get involved in a world he didn’t belong to. And even when he began to express concerns about it, Steven and the Gems all reassured him that things were fine. Steven had seemed fine . And Greg knew in his heart that if he pulled Steven away from Crystal Gem business, if he forbade him from going on missions, Steven might not have forgiven him.

Greg wonders now if he should’ve risked that anyway.

“So, what do I do now?”

“We can help your son. Rest assured, you are not alone in helping Steven deal with this. I will take on the role of Steven’s general practitioner. There is an excellent child psychologist in this hospital, Dr. Jeanne Greenlow, who I will refer Steven too, and I will make sure she fully understands his...unusual background. Unless something is indicated on the screeners I gave him, I expect that Steven will go home with you today.”

Dr. Maheswaran stands up, walks over to Greg, kneels down so they are at eye level, and places a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes have softened considerably, and the touch on his shoulder is fully comforting. “What you can do for Steven, right now, is take him home and be there for him. That, as his father, is the best thing you can do for him at this moment.”

Greg can tell that in every aspect of Dr. Maheswaran’s behavior, from her posture to her expression to her vocal tone, she was not speaking as a doctor, but as a fellow parent. Some of the panic that’s in him dies down as he meets her eyes. “I will, I promise.”

She nods, then stands up. “Let’s go see if he’s done.” Greg agrees, getting up and following her out of the door and back down the hospital hallways. His mind still swarms, but he pushes it all aside for now. He needs to focus on Steven, on what he needs, on being the best father he can be. Which is apparently going to have to be far better than what Greg has done so far.

As they approach the exam room, Dr. Maheswaran stops, spins around, and gives Greg another hard look. It’s not nearly as severe as some of her earlier ones, but it still makes him shudder a bit. “You need to discuss this with the Gems. Promise me you’ll do that.”

He blinks, slightly shocked. “Of course, I promise.”

She spins back around, takes a deep breath, puts on a much more soothing face, and opens the exam room door. Greg follows quickly enough behind to see Steven, now dressed in his regular clothes, sitting on the exam table, phone in hand. When his eyes meet Greg’s face, his pupils shrink and Greg realizes it’s obvious he’s been crying. Another pang of guilt hits him for making Steven worry again, so he puts on a smile as he walks over to the table and sits next to Steven. Almost instinctively, Steven scooches close and Greg puts his arm around his son. Knowing the news Dr. Maheswaran is about to break to him, Greg figures more hugs are better.

“Did you finish the questionnaires?” She asks, her tone far more gentle than anything she used with Greg, which does not at all make him angry. If anything, he’s grateful to Dr. Maheswaran for how well she’s handled this situation. Steven nods, handing her the stack of papers. “Great, give me a few minutes to put your answers into the computer.”

As she heads over to the desktop sitting on the corner desk and begins typing, Steven lays his head on Greg’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” His voice is whispered, creaking slightly.

“Don’t apologize for anything, Steven. Absolutely none of this is your fault.”

“It’s not good news, is it?”

Greg sighs. “No, but it’s not the end of the world either, kiddo. We’ll get through it. I’ll help you get through it.”

They sit, silent only for the sound of typing. After a few more minutes, Dr. Maheswaran gives a little hum at whatever pops up on her monitor, then turns towards the two of them. Her eyes are soft and full of sympathy. Greg pulls Steven closer as she approaches, sits down close to Steven, and begins to explain the diagnoses. She tells him everything she already told Greg in her office, and that she’s already sent his chart with a referral note to Dr. Greenlow’s office.

“Once the referral is processed, your father will get a call from her office to schedule an appointment.” At this, Dr. Maheswaran gives a pointed look at Greg, with the unspoken and he will pick up that phone call and make the appointment clearly in her gaze.

“Wait, why does Dad need to make the appointment? I could do it.” Steven asks.

“It’s protocol, as you’re still a minor in the eyes of the law.”

Greg can see the refutes brewing in Steven’s brain, up to and including his dismantling of a millennium-long, multi-galaxy, tyrannical rule, but he’s clearly too physically and mentally tired to make the argument.

At the end, Dr. Maheswaran gives Greg a polite handshake, and then, after a moment's hesitation, pulls Steven into a hug. Though she whispers, he can still make out the words she says to Steven. “I know things between you and Connie are...difficult right now, but she wanted me to tell you that she’s ready to talk whenever you are. She’s okay with waiting because she wants you to be comfortable first. So, don't push yourself, okay?"

Steven pulls away, wiping a tear from his eye. “Thanks, Dr. Maheswaran.”

“Of course, Steven. Feel better, and please, reach out if you need to see me again.”

Greg and Steven agree and they leave the room, Greg grabbing the duffle he had dropped outside the exam room when he spotted Steven through the window. It had just a few days worth of clothes and essentials, but he had more of his stuff still at the car wash, and he could use Steven’s washer and dryer for laundry. He had to leave the van with Sadie and Shep; they had dropped him off in front of the hospital and went on, the tour still tentatively on unless they heard otherwise from him. He would have to call them, but decided it could wait until tomorrow.

Steven pulling the Dondai keys from his jacket pocket answered the question of how to get home before Greg could ask it. But as they got to the parking lot and approached the car, Steven stopped short.

“Do you want me to drive?” Greg asked.

“...Yeah, I’m a bit tired.” Steven said, handing the keys over.

Greg got the car unlocked so Steven could sit down, threw his duffle in the trunk, then got in and began driving back towards Beach City. The ride starts silent, Steven staring out the window blankly. Greg has never been the one to ride in silence; it makes him uneasy to not have some music in the background. After checking the tape deck and finding it empty, he fiddles with the radio until he finds the radio station Shep had stumbled upon, which plays a lot of soft, acoustic music. It had been good post-show calm-down tracks, and Greg feels that it would be best after everything that had happened. He knows he’s right when he glances at Steven and sees him smiling softly, fingers tapping along on the window.

They approach the house, and the pair get out of the car, Steven grabbing Greg’s duffle for him. The two enter, Greg calling out a “Hey, we’re home. And by we, I mean I’m here with Steven.”

“The Gems aren’t here,” Steven says behind him. “Little Homeschool field trips, they’ll be back tomorrow."

“Well, then it’s just you and me, lil man. Like the old days.”

“Yeah, like the old days…” Steven replies, a little wistful. “You sure you’ll be okay on the couch?”

“Yeah, my back ain’t that old yet,” Greg states, but the little pang that he feels when he says that argues otherwise. But Steven doesn’t need to know that; the last thing he needs to feel is guilty.

“Okay. I’m gonna uh…” Steven starts as he climbs up the stairs, but his voice trailing off soon turns into a groan.

“What’s going on?”

“I forgot I left my room a mess.”

Greg climbs up the stairs, and manages to push down the sound of shock he feels climbing up his throat. While not meticulous, Steven did like to keep his space orderly and clean (although Greg figures Pearl had no small part in that). So the complete mess - cartons of melted ice cream, dirty bowls stacked on top of each other, clothes strewn about, bed unmade - of his son’s room was quite shocking. Greg only feels more guilty at not noticing something sooner; the seriousness of this was made all the more clear.

He spots Steven’s shoulders sag as they take in the state of his room, and Greg knows he needs to make things as easy on him as possible. “Hey, don’t worry about it, Schtew-ball. I’ll clean this up. You go grab your pajamas and go downstairs to get changed.”

“But, Dad, it’s my room and my mess. I should handle it.”

“Steven, it’s okay, you’ve had a long day. I don’t mind helping you out a bit.”

There’s a few seconds before Steven sighs, telling Greg he’s won. “Okay, but let me take the bowls downstairs and wash them, if I’m going to head down anyway.”

Greg decides not to argue, knowing Steven will feel better by helping a little bit. He was never one to let others do a job he felt responsible for. As he grabs his pajamas and the bowls and heads back downstairs, Greg wonders if that’s partly what led to all of this. The task of picking up the room allows him to not dwell on that thought.

Once he’s done, Greg heads downstairs, Steven’s bedding in his arms. As he turns the corner into the living room, he sees Steven on the couch, scrolling through his phone, the bowls and spoons lined up perfectly on the drying rack by the sink. “Hey, the laundry room’s still on the hand with the warp pad, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Figured it might be good to give your sheets a wash, but if you gotta warp me up there-”

“No, no, that’s okay. Honestly, they probably need it.”

They quickly head up to the laundry set-up outside and throw Steven’s bedding in the machine. When they warp back down, Steven’s stomach rumbles.

“Been a while since you ate?”

“Yeah, and it was mostly ice cream…” Steven says, making his way over to the kitchen. Greg follows as Steven looks through his cupboards and fridge, shoulders shagging as he mumbles different meal options under his breath, accounting for prep and cook time and if there’s enough for two.

“Hey, Steven,” Greg finally interrupts the third time Steven debates the box of pasta. “Let’s just call Fish Stew Pizza for dinner and have a pizza-and-a-bad-movie night, like we did when you were a kid. Sound like fun?”

Steven glances at the cupboard again, then grins at him. It’s not nearly as large as Steven’s typical smiles, but it’s the largest he’s given today and Greg’s heart is full.

Steven goes back up to his room to go through his movie collection while Greg calls Fish Stew and places their typical delivery order. As he finishes, the ordering process elongated by Kofi getting on the line and catching up, Steven returns downstairs with one of the Boomerang Blade movies. Greg would’ve gone with whatever Steven wanted, but he definitely can’t say no when he sees the smile still on his son’s face.

They move Steven’s bedding to the dryer and start the movie, curling under blankets at the foot of his bed. About 20 minute in, there’s a knock at the door.

“That must be the pizza, I’ll run down and get it,” Greg says as Steven reaches to hit the pause button. He makes his way back downstairs and opens the door for Kiki, holding the extra large box in her hands.

“Hey, Mr. Universe! Didn’t believe you were in town when my dad mentioned it. What happened to the tour?”

“Oh it’s still going on, but uh…” Greg glances up the stairs. Steven certainly wouldn’t want Greg telling Kiki, or anybody else for that matter, about his PTSD diagnosis without his permission. “Steven had something come up so I decided to pay him a visit and help.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” She says as Greg hands her the money. “Tell him I said hello!”

“Will do, have a good night!”

Greg makes his way back up the stairs, balancing the box in one hand, and spots Steven’s eyes the moment he re-enters his room. There’s a level of fear and embarrassment in there. “Was that Kiki?” Greg nods as he sits back down on the floor, putting the box between them. Steven grabs a slice and stares at it a moment. “Did she say anything about you being here?”

“Yeah, but I just said you had something come up, so I decided to visit.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nope,” Greg pauses as he takes a slice of his own, and takes in the concern on his son’s face. “I won’t tell anyone about the PTSD or anything else that happened today without you being there or without your permission. But,” he interjects when the relief starts to flood Steven’s face. “Dr. Maheswaran wants us to tell the Gems. And honestly, I agree with her. At least Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. They raised you, they were around you for a lot of what you went through, you still live with them. They need to know what’s going on.”

Greg holds his breath while Steven processes what he just said. He hates pilling it all on now, but it needs to be said and discussed and the conversation led there naturally. With the Gems out until tomorrow, they need to plan out how the conversation will go.

“You’re right,” Steven finally says. “They need to, should, know what happened.”

“Right. So, how do you want to handle it? Do you want to do it on your own, do you want me to do it?”

There’s another pause as Steven thinks. Greg hates putting stress on him, especially after everything, but it’s better now than throwing him into a situation tomorrow he’s unprepared for. “Can we both do it? Together?”

“Of course, Schtew-ball. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

There’s another small smile, and it stays as Steven turns back towards the TV and unpauses the movie.

They go through the movie and the pizza, Steven taking care of more than half the box himself. Greg lets him; that Gem-stress response looks like it took a lot of energy. Once the credits roll, they venture back up to the laundry hand to grab Steven’s bedding from the dryer, then warp back downstairs. As Greg passes the kitchen, an idea comes to him.

“Hey, do you mind making your bed? I’ve got to do something real quick.”

“Uh, okay, sure.” Steven says, then heads upstairs. Once he’s around the corner, Greg runs to the cupboard, rifling through and- Ah ha! He thought he spotted the hot cocoa packaging. He grabs a mug and some milk, warms it up, and stirs the cocoa and marshmallows in until it looks perfectly soothing. As quickly as he can without spilling, he makes his way up the stairs to see Steven smoothing the corners of his duvet.

His eyebrows raise at the mug. “I still have hot cocoa?”

“I spotted the box while you were looking through earlier. A hot drink never made anyone feel worse.” There’s a little grin as Greg approaches the bed and Steven climbs in, old routines coming back despite the years. Steven sips and they chat a bit more about the day and what has to come tomorrow. Soon, Steven starts slipping himself more under the covers, his blinks becoming longer.

“Get some sleep, Schtew-ball. You’ve had a long day.”

Steven makes a noise of agreement as he fully lays down and rolls onto his side, facing away from Greg, and it’s like they had just done this yesterday. He carefully reaches a hand out towards Steven’s curls, and rubs them as he begins to sing softly. Comforting nostalgia fills him as the time passes Steven’s breathing becomes more even, both slipping into a routine from way back when he was really little. Even if his son is older, and bigger, bringing peace to galaxies, the curly haired teen sound asleep in bed was still Greg’s little boy. He would always be there to support him, to love him.

Guilt pangs deep in Greg’s chest. He didn’t support him, not enough, not this time, not so many times before. Steven might be calm now, but there was tomorrow to face, and the days after it. There were so many unknowns and how to handle them seemed insurmountable if Greg thought about it too hard.

Who knows how challenging they must feel to Steven, who responded to stress as though he could die.

But those were all tomorrow things. So all he could do now was reflect on the awful father he had been.

Years, years, of unending trauma had been inflicted on his kid and he hadn’t noticed the effects, hadn’t even stopped to really ask if Steven was okay. He acted like he was doing fine, and Greg had believed him. And after everything he’d been through over the past six years, Greg had left his son alone so he could, what? Relive his glory days traveling the country? What kind of a father was he?

Greg groaned as he recalled his earlier phone call with Steven. He had probably called to reach out, to talk at least about his failed proposal to Connie, and what had Greg done? Ignored the strain in his voice and joyfully talked about the tour being extended. Made his son feel that pulling him away from the tour would be burdensome. Gave him another excuse to not talk about his feelings. Took away another social support, and left him to face this alone.

How was he going to make all of that up to Steven?

He couldn’t believe Steven wasn’t angry with him. He would be if the roles were reversed. But Steven had been so relieved the moment Greg walked into the hospital room. And he had given him some genuine smiles throughout the evening, and seemed to enjoy everything Greg had done. What Dr. Maheswaran had told him, speaking parent-to-parent, went through his mind again.

He looked back down at Steven, still soundly asleep. Greg knew his son well enough that he’d forgive his father’s mistakes, tell him it wasn’t a big deal, that he should forget about it.

But Greg wasn’t going to forget his failings, nor forgive them quite just yet. He hasn’t yet done enough for forgiveness. But he will. To be the father he promised Rose and himself he would be before Steven was born, he will be there for his son. He won’t let his son face this alone anymore.

“ How am I supposed to live my life when it always feels like I’m about to die? ”

Greg Universe was going to help his son live again.

#Steven Universe #Steven Universe Future #SU #SUF #Steven Universe fanfic #Steven Universe Future Fanfic #SUF fanfic #Growing Pains #my fanfic #i've been a fan of SU for 5 years and this is my first fic for it #this was initially a drabble but i wasn't satisfied with it #too much telling over showing #so i told and now it's my longest one shot whoops #long post

79 notes · View notes

tiggyloo · 5 years

Text

Can’t Hold On - Chapter 5 - Monster

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6 - FINAL

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of Blood, Gore, Vomiting

This chapter is also up on AO3 and FF.net, which are linked in my description

~~~~

A portal opened in the main room of the house and out came Lion and Connie. The landing was…ungraceful, to say the least, as Lion skidded and tumbled over himself, throwing Connie off his back. The two rolled and landed in a heap by the door, and there they lay in gasping silence.

Lion remained still, his breathing quick and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and fear as they fixed on the man hurrying over. Connie was lifting herself to her knees as Greg reached them, saying something that she couldn’t understand. Her heart was pounding so hard that it felt ready to break out of her chest, and she could barely breathe. Her eyes couldn’t focus on anything, and she felt like she was choking on air.

A moment later, she felt a strong pair of hands grab hold of her arms and she was lifted to her feet. Greg was trying to talk to her but nothing processed; all Connie could hear was the blood roaring in her ears. She felt the hands around her body guiding her somewhere and it took everything in her not to fall as she followed.

Carefully, Greg sat Connie down on the couch, and he crouched down in front of her. She forced her eyes to focus on him as best she could as he tried to direct her through the panic attack. Take deep breaths, hold on to me, focus on my face; she did her best to follow these instructions and, slowly, she felt her heart rate returning to normal.

Shortly after that the Temple door opened, from Amethyst’s room, and the Gems practically threw themselves out of it. They stumbled to a halt on the Warp Pad and took in the scene in front of them.

Greg and Connie were looking over to them as Lion finally struggled to his feet. There were claw marks from where he had skid along the floor. Connie was still breathing hard, but she was focused and present. Everyone stared at everyone else. The sound of waves came in through the windows.

“Lion.”

The cat lifted his head as Garnet walked forward. He gave a weak growl as she reached him, but it faded as her hand gently slid over his muzzle. She knelt in front of him and he moaned at her.

“You did a good job, Lion,” Garnet told him as she stroked his fur.

Amethyst looked incredulous as Garnet continued to pet the large feline, and even more so when she saw Pearl calmly walking over to Greg and Connie on the couch.

“You guys! We don’t have time for this!” the purple Gem almost shouted, hands above her head. “We gotta find Steven! Now!”

“Amethyst, hush!” Pearl snapped. “We can’t just go running off. Lion is the only one who knows where Steven is, and we have to make sure he’ll still help us after all that. Give him a moment to calm down—I want to find Steven as much as you do, but forcing Lion won’t make things go any faster.”

Amethyst growled and crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently.

“Uh…Pearl? What does she mean by ‘find him’?” Greg asked hesitantly.

Pearl bit her lip and looked around for a few seconds. The others made it a point to keep their eyes away from the man. Amethyst obviously regretted just blurting that information out, Garnet was still petting Lion, calming him down, and Connie was simply looking at her hands.

Pearl’s gaze shifted back to Greg. “Steven…we had to have Lion teleport him out of the Temple. Unfortunately, we have no idea where he was teleported to. But Lion knows. We just have to give him a few minutes before we go out…what we saw, it really hit us all hard—”

“What did you see? What happened to my son?!” Greg gasped, quickly standing up and grabbing Pearl’s shoulders. They stared at each other and the Gem took a deep breath.

“I-I’m so sorry, Greg,” she said quietly. “We…we lost him.”

She felt the man’s hold on her shoulders weaken.

“He’s a monster, isn’t he? He turned into a monster,” he said before falling back onto the couch. His head was now in his hands and Pearl rubbed her arm. She had hoped to reveal that fact a bit…softer, had Amethyst not gone and dropped it like that, but perhaps it was better to just get it out of the way.

“I knew something bad happened when the Temple went silent like that,” Greg said into his hands. “My son is a monster…”

Pearl reached out to offer some comfort, but pulled back a second later when she saw Garnet stand up. Lion was rubbing his head against the Gem’s thigh as she turned to face the others and she had to gently push the cat’s face away. He huffed sadly and sat down, but still leaned against her leg, looking for comfort.

“Lion is ready,” Garnet stated and Lion seemed to grunt in agreement.

“Connie, will you come with us?” she asked next.

The girl nodded.

Garnet nodded back, and then looked toward Greg, as did the others.

“I’m sorry, Greg, but you’ll have to stay here,” Garnet told him sternly. Her tone suggested she had been expecting an argument, but Greg simply shook his head.

“I know I can’t go,” he stated, voice shaking, as he looked up. “If I came I’d only get in the way. I…I’ll stay here. It…feels better…” He took a breath. “Please, just, bring my son back.”

“We’ll do our best,” Garnet said in as optimistic a tone as she could muster. She wished she could promise, but she knew that to promise would be to lie. Greg gave her a pained look of understanding and said no more.

Connie placed a comforting hand on Greg’s leg before leaving his side to join Garnet and Lion. Amethyst hurried over with Pearl next and everyone took a place on Lion’s back. He opened his portal and Greg was forced to watch them all leave, left to wonder how long it would take for them to return.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lion’s portal had taken them to a tall hill somewhere in the forest outside of Beach City. The hill overlooked most of the forest and provided a clear picture of the situation they were about to involve themselves in; Steven had grown even more since they saw him in the Temple, to a size bigger than almost anything they had faced in the past.

The monster towered above the trees, his long, fatty body held up with four thick arms and two powerful legs, all covered in thick scale plates. A broad neck held up his head, and his tail, which was as long as his body, swung absently, leveling trees as if they weren’t even there. His back was lined with huge, thorny spikes, from the top of his head, to the very tip of his tail. The faintest of pink glows came from underneath, the only tell that this creature was, in fact, Steven. A constant low rumble seemed to emanate from him.

“Connie, are you certain you can handle this?” Pearl asked, turning to the girl who was still stationed on Lion’s back. She was staring at Steven—the beast that was her best friend. Her eyes turned to her mentor at the question and her expression changed to steely resolve.

“I’m not going to abandon him. No matter what happens, I will stay and I will fight. I just need my sword.”

“Get your sword and go to Little Homeworld,” Garnet cut in before Pearl could respond. “Find Peridot. Have her contact the Diamonds directly. Tell them what’s happening and that we need their help as soon as possible, then sound the alarm. All the Gems there will know to evacuate. Afterwards, bring Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth back with you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Connie said, and with that Lion took off.

“A child shouldn’t have to go through something like this,” Pearl murmured and Garnet placed a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“So what exactly is the plan here, anyway?” Amethyst said next, looking as frustrated as ever. “You gotta have some kind of plan, right, Garnet? That’s why you want the Diamonds. Not sure what they can do, though. Yeah, they’re big, but Steven is way bigger!”

“I want White specifically—the other two are just a bonus,” Garnet stated and both Pearl and Amethyst gave her a confused look. Then Pearl gasped, having connected the dots.

“You want White to use her mind control on Steven, don’t you?” she guessed and Garnet nodded.

“I’m not happy about it, of course, but it will be the quickest way to get Steven pacified. With White controlling him he won’t be able to hurt himself or anyone else. We’ll be able to relocate him as well. It will be best, for the time being, to take him off the planet. The Zoo should be substantial enough to hold him.”

“Will…that plan work? And what about Greg? We’re supposed to bring Steven back,” Amethyst said, anxiously rubbing her hands over each other as she looked out to the monster. He hadn’t moved much, but was visibly agitated and seemed to be venting frustration by uprooting the forest around him.

“And we will. Greg will just have to understand.”

Amethyst was about to say more, but was cut off when Steven suddenly let out a roar. All three turned in time to see him swing his hand in a horizontal arch. A line of trees fell following this action, and continued falling in the direction of the Gems. Whatever Steven had hit was coming in hot.

“Duck!” Garnet snapped and everyone hit the ground just in time to avoid getting slammed into by Jasper. She flew over them and Garnet quickly morphed her arm and snatched her out of the air. Jasper grunted when she hit the ground and she coughed a few times while trying to collect herself. Garnet’s arm returned to its normal length and everyone got to their feet, including Jasper.

Upon seeing the Crystal Gems she took up a defensive stance. “W-what are you doing here?” she growled, teetering slightly. It was obvious that she was rather disoriented after that attack.

Before anyone could answer her question a portal opened between her and the Gems. Jasper groaned, arms dropping to her sides.

“Now what?”

From the portal came Lion, mounted by Connie who now brandished her sword, as well as three newcomers: Peridot, Bismuth, and Lapis. Everyone dismounted and Peridot immediately launched into an update.

“I contacted the Diamonds as instructed,” she announced with a salute to Garnet. She then started tapping away at something on her tablet. “With the information they gave me, I calculate that they should be arriving within the hour. They’re taking one of Yellow’s battleships—luckily they didn’t decommission all of them, so they’ll have some actual speed this time instead of that snail’s pace those Diamond ships offer.”

She paused and looked to Jasper, who was wearing a confused scowl.

“Jasper.”

“Runt.”

The small Gem squinted and adjusted her visor before turning back to Garnet and the others.

“That’s all I have at this time.”

“Good. In the meantime, we have to keep Steven away from Little Homeworld,” Garnet directed.

As if to emphasize her point, a loud stomping started up, indicating that Steven had started walking. His heavy footsteps shook the entire forest and birds scattered in clouds above the treetops. Any other animals left in the area had surely started running from the thunder.

“So is anyone going to explain what the heck’s going on here?” Jasper said over the noise. “Why does Steven have to stay out of Little Homeworld? Shouldn’t he be here to help take care of that thing? That’s what you all do, right? Take care of monsters.”

The others gave awkward glances to each other, then Garnet stepped up and went over to the aggravated Quartz. Jasper crossed her arms and sneered. The other gave no acknowledgement of the gesture, and it was dropped.

“Steven isn’t here because he is the monster. He corrupted himself and turned into that thing,” Garnet stated and Jasper’s eyes widened. Then she started laughing, almost hysterically, holding her stomach.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” she said through her delight as everyone stared, speechless. “Steven, the kid who berated me for corrupting myself, went and did the same thing? That’s great.” She then cracked her knuckles and summoned her helmet. “Alright, I’ll help you take him out.”

“We’re not ‘taking him out’. We’re containing him until we can change him back to normal.”

Jasper gave Garnet a dissatisfied scoff. “Right, because ‘containing the monster’ has worked so well for you in the past,” she said, shooting a look over to Lapis, who scowled back. “But, fine, I’ll play your game. But when this doesn’t work we do things my way. Deal?”

“Yeah? And what is your way?” Bismuth said. She was holding a hand out in front of Lapis as a warning, which Jasper chuckled at.

“Garnet, I think we should go,” Pearl cut in, speaking too fast, as she grabbed onto Garnet’s arm. The tension was becoming too much, and they were wasting time. “Steven might be slow, but he’s big, and he’s covering a lot of ground.”

Garnet looked over to the others and sighed. “Right. Let’s get this done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Getting to Steven was made a little easier by the path of destroyed trees created when Jasper was swatted away, and the larger path of destruction created by Steven himself was also helpful in cutting back time. Still, it took longer than anyone would have wanted to reach him; he was slow, but what he lacked in speed he made up for in reach. He’d already cleared at least one third of the distance to Little Homeworld by the time everyone caught up.

There hadn’t been any updates from the Diamonds yet, either, but Peridot assured that her calculations were correct and that they should be here very soon. Until then, everyone just had to keep Steven’s attention.

Capturing his attention was easy enough; one hit with Peridot’s mines was enough to bring him to a halt. His giant head swung around to look at where the mine had landed—there was a mark on his wrist where it had exploded, but otherwise the damage seemed minimal. Still, it had pulled his eyes from Little Homeworld, which is all they needed. Peridot managed to set off a few more mines before Steven spotted her hovering close by. She yelped and dropped out of the air as his huge jaws came to snap at her, steadying herself on her trash can lid once more several yards below the teeth.

“I can’t believe we have to do this,” Lapis said under her breath and Bismuth squeezed her shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to,” Bismuth told the other. “You can go back to Little Homeworld and help everyone evacuate.”

“No, I’m staying here. The Off Colors can take care of the evacuation,” she said as her water wings sprang out from her gem. “I just…what I mean is that, I can’t believe we have to do this.” She waved her hand at Steven, who was searching for Peridot. “I can’t believe we have to hurt Steven.”

Bismuth let out a deep sigh before picking up the trunk of a felled tree. “Not hurt, just distract.”

“Yeah. Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Lapis muttered before taking off to the sky. Bismuth watched her go before hefting the tree up and throwing it like a spear at the beast. It connected and splintered against his neck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everyone was doing their absolute best to keep Steven from leaving this area. Trees and boulders and spears and whips all cracked against him from the ground, while bombs and blades of water hit him from above. With so many angles of assault, and with so many things to focus on, keeping Steven where he was was thankfully not too difficult a task, at least.

This cacophony of attacks went on for some time before the Diamond battleship blinked into existence with a flash of light, causing Steven to cry out in shock as he was temporarily blinded. The ship touched down safely as the beast shook spots from his vision, and his attention was quickly taken back by the various Gems around him while Garnet dislodged herself from the fray. With Steven’s attention trained on the others, it was relatively easy for her to get out and hurry to the battleship. She reached it just as the Diamonds were exiting.

The familiar ball of light landed a few yards from Garnet. It slipped away and revealed the Diamonds and Spinel, who was sitting on Blue’s shoulder, in a fit of distress. When the Diamonds noticed the fusion at their feet all three fell to the ground, ready to ask questions. Garnet, however, did not give them the chance.

“Spinel, go help Bismuth,” she said the moment they were in earshot. Spinel looked hesitant, but dropped from Blue’s shoulder.

“I’ll do my best,” she said before running down toward Steven and the others.

“Oh, will she be alright?” Blue said as she watched Spinel hurry off. “She could get hurt—”

“She can handle herself,” Garnet said and clapped her gauntlets together, calling their attention back to her. “Now, you three listen to me. I need you to use your powers to get Steven under control. White, your power should be enough, but Blue and Yellow can use theirs to weaken him if needed.”

“You want us to use our powers on him?” Blue gasped, clasping her hands against her gem.

“But-Steven told us to never use our powers on others ever again,” White added, indignation in her voice.

“You realize what you’re asking of us, don’t you?” Yellow continued, leaning down on her elbow, closer to Garnet. “You are asking us to go against Steven’s direct wishes! Can we not just—hold him down or something?” she suggested, waving her hand around.

“I respect your hesitance to stray from Steven’s requests, but even you three can’t hold that down,” Garnet said, pointing toward the giant creature that was Steven. He roared and snapped his jaws at Lapis and Peridot and swung his tail to try and hit any other Gems on the ground. Countless trees and boulders lay shattered under and around his feet.

“The others can only keep his attention for so long. I need you to get him under your control before he realizes you’re here. It will be easier, and faster, if you surprise him.” Garnet was speaking directly to White Diamond now, who had her fingers to her lips. She was looking from Garnet to Steven and back, concern and confusion written on her face.

“I suppose it would be fastest if you did it, White,” Blue mused with some minor apprehension.

“And your power won’t hurt him the same way mine would,” Yellow added with a sigh.

“Is there truly no other way?” White moaned and Garnet shook her head.

“I wouldn’t have had Peridot send for you if I knew of another.”

The Diamonds looked at each other and, one after the other, stood up to their full heights.

“I hope he can forgive me for this once this is all over,” White murmured.

“I’m sure he’ll understand, White. Steven’s very good at that,” Blue said and Garnet took that as her queue to rejoin the others.

She added herself to the distractions, rocketing her gauntlets to slam against Steven. Everyone had to keep his attention, just for a few more minutes, and then it would be over for the time being. Maybe, once he’s off the planet, he’ll even calm down when White retracts her control.

That wasn’t something to think about now, though. The Diamonds had found an elevated section of the woods around Steven where the other Gems could see them. The others started circling back together, opposite the Diamonds, to keep Steven from catching them. White still looked very hesitant, as did the other two, but with some coaxing from Yellow and Blue she seemed to stand just a little taller.

She closed her eyes and steadied herself and the Gems quickly took cover. Steven appeared confused at this and angrily started scanning low to the ground to find them all in what was left of the trees around him. Then he was hit with White’s beam and he swung his head up and roared.

Everyone watched as he fought to keep control. This, of course, was worrying, because even the other Diamonds had not been able to resist White’s control for more than a few moments. But even so, it appeared as if Steven was losing. The color was draining from his body and his efforts were weakening. The Gems started to carefully reappear from within the trees, looking relieved that the plan had worked.

But then Steven roared again. It sounded different, more strained and guttural. The sound shook the ground as a powerful shockwave spread out with a harsh gust of wind that threw everyone back. The Diamonds suddenly looked fearful and White had even fallen slightly.

Something was very wrong.

The color had started to creep back as Steven forced himself to move. At that same moment, Blue and Yellow started to hit him with their own powers. It knocked him back a few feet, but otherwise didn’t appear to do much damage. In fact, aside from the initial connection, Yellow and Blue’s attacks didn’t appear to do anything.

Now Steven had turned to face the Diamonds head on. The color was returning faster now, and the Gems behind him could see the glow from his stomach growing stronger; and then there was a new light from above.

Somehow, Steven had regained control of himself and had turned White’s attack back at her. A flash of bright pink shot out and for a moment, things were quiet. Then Steven raised his head further, and the Gems saw Yellow and Blue fall back in shock as White rose to her feet.

Connie and Lion found their way to Garnet, towing Amethyst, Peridot, and Spinel along with them. Lapis, Bismuth, and Pearl quickly found their way over as well, with Jasper bringing up the rear, and Garnet ushered them all further back behind the broken treeline.

“We’re in trouble,” was all the fusion said as they watched White face her companions.

White Diamond was clearly fighting with herself as Steven silently commanded her, her body taken over by a dark pink-ish purple. Her movements were somewhat scattered and she’d jerk every few seconds, trying to win herself back. A gurgling rumble came from Steven’s chest as White’s companions watched, horrified, as she was forced to advance toward them.

“Uh, Garnet?” came Amethyst’s quiet voice, “What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe if we get his attention again, White will be able to free herself,” Connie suggested, doing her best to sound confident in her idea.

“Whether that works or not, it’s better than just standing around,” Bismuth said. “I think we’ll have to get more aggressive, though, huh” she added and Garnet muttered something under her breath, but nodded.

“Get aggressive, but don’t take it too far,” she said, shooting a look toward Jasper, who huffed and crossed her arms.

“Okay, let’s do this thing. Spinel, come back with me. I’ve got an idea,” Bismuth said, grabbing Spinel’s arm and pulling her away.

“Pearl, let’s get Opal out there,” Amethyst said and Pearl gave a grunt of agreement, and then the two ran off, following Bismuth and Spinel.

“You two get back in the air,” Garnet told Lapis and Peridot. “Jasper, you’re with me.”

“Oh, what? Why?”

“I need to keep an eye on you.”

“What about the kid?” Jasper asked, jabbing her thumb toward Connie.

“I have Lion, he can keep me safe,” Connie shot back and Lion growled a confirmation.

“Fine,” Jasper huffed and begrudgingly followed Garnet, and Connie and Lion ran back out a moment later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A boulder cracked against the back of Steven’s head and he growled in annoyance. When he turned around to see where the rock had come from, another slammed right into his nose and he groaned, shaking his head.

“Bullseye!” Spinel said with a grin, which immediately vanished. “I hope we didn’t hurt him, though…”

She had her arms and legs wrapped around two sturdy trees while Bismuth used her as a slingshot—very effective.

“Eh, look at ‘im! I don’t think those last two really did more than be a slight inconvenience,” Bismuth said as she planted another boulder in front of Spinel. “Which, I mean, is good I guess? It’s enough to get him off the Diamonds, anyway…though, I can’t really tell if it actually did anything with the big guy in the way.”

She looked quite uncertain as she pulled the next shot back.

“I hope the others get in there soon before he finds us,” Spinel said, fearful awkwardness in her voice.

“Yeeeaah…”

Bismuth sucked air through her teeth as Steven started to hone in on the two.

“Let’s go for the horns next.”

Meanwhile, Lapis and Peridot were in the air about to enact their own plan. Peridot noticed Steven’s slow advance toward Bismuth and Spinel as more boulders were slung, and motioned for her companion to hurry up.

“Come on, come on, we gotta get him off those two!” she said, teetering on her trash can lid as she leaned to look down at the two other Gems.

“Working on it,” Lapis grunted. She was capturing at least a dozen of Peridot’s bombs in spheres of water. “Is this even going to work? What if it makes the water too hot and it evaporates?”

Peridot waved her off. “Nah, trust me. I know what temperature those bombs explode at, it’s not that high. Not when it’s those little things.”

Lapis sighed and enclosed the last four bombs, then pulled them in a bit so it would be easier to aim. “Okay, detonate them, then.”

Something was tapped on Peridot’s tablet and all the bombs exploded at once. The bubbles of water were boiling now, just as she said they would. “Ha! And you doubted my abilities.”

Lapis rolled her eyes and lifted her arms up. “Sorry, Steven,” she said before throwing them forward, the boiling water flying down with the motion. The water seared against Steven’s hide and he roared in pain before turning to look at the two.

“Head’s up!” Lapis shouted as a beam of pink shot from Steven’s mouth.

Peridot yelped and dropped, a little too fast this time around, and only just managed to catch herself before careening into the ground. A second later she saw a dark shadow appear over her and with a deep sense of dread, she looked up.

A huge hand came crashing down on her.

“Peridot!” came Lapis’ terrified scream and she quickly flew down as Steven’s hand retreated. She landed and hurried to the huge footprint, finding Peridot’s gem dead center. Clumsy hands snatched it off the ground, and the feeling of relief that followed brought Lapis to her knees.

Somehow, Peridot made it out with only a crack in her gem. Thank goodness for Era 2 Peridots.

Then, before she could realize what was happening, Steven’s tail came swinging down. All Lapis had time to do was raise her water wings before the tail connected with a force that sent her flying who knows how fast or how far into the trees.

“Lapis and Peridot are out!” Connie said as she and Lion appeared beside Garnet and Jasper. Connie had still been figuring out a plan for her and the cat, so she’d been observing the others. Unfortunately, that meant she had to watch everything that just happened. She was really starting to think that maybe she shouldn’t be here after all.

“Great, there goes our air force,” Jasper grumbled. “This isn’t working.”

“We still have Gems left,” Garnet stated in as stern a voice as she could.

“Yeah, you think? Look! He’s distracted and White’s still purple,” the soldier growled back. Garnet, Connie, and Lion all looked and, sure enough, nothing had changed with the Diamonds.

A stream of glowing arrows cut across their vision then, scattering across Steven’s side. Immediately he was on Opal, giving chase around the clearing he’d made as the fusion ran and jumped and dodged around him with a graceful air, all the while sending arrows at the monster.

“Come on, I’m tired of standing here watching the light show,” Jasper said as Opal dashed by, hounded by the enraged purple beast. The ground thundered as he passed and Connie tightened her grip on Lion’s mane to keep from falling off his back. She wasn’t sure if Opal was helping the situation or making it worse with all the rampaging.

When she lifted her head she saw Garnet and Jasper running out, and Lion shook his fur in anticipation, ready to follow. Connie saw a determined snarl on his face and she took a deep breath, tightening her grip around the sword in her hand.

“Let’s get out there, Lion.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Any other day, Yellow would have been able to best White in a fight. White wasn’t a bad warrior, by any means; she knew her way around a battlefield. Yellow, however, was still physically the strongest and most skilled of the Diamonds. Now, though, she struggled. Even though Steven was distracted, his control over White was still tremendous, and it seemed that his own strength had been given to Diamond under his spell. Not only that, but it seemed like White wasn’t even fighting Steven’s control anymore. She was completely gone.

Yellow continued to struggle in holding White back, even with Blue doing her best to alleviate some of the force. Yellow had White’s wrists tight in either hand, but the larger Diamond was really wearing on her strength. Even while using her disruption power, an aura glowing from her hands and causing a circuit board of light along White’s arms, Yellow found herself losing.

Blue was trying to help by pulling White back, unable to use her own powers due to Yellow’s proximity. She felt somewhat helpless because of this; out of all the Diamonds, she was the least versed when it came to fighting, especially without her powers. But, to use them would be even more detrimental to their predicament.

“Ghn—Blue, get out of here!” Yellow said through grit teeth. Her heels dug into the ground as she tried to force White back.

“But, you need help!” Blue protested, pulling harder.

“No! You’re better off helping the others!”

Very reluctantly, Blue obeyed and released her grip. Yellow was right, but at the same time she couldn’t just leave her. White was obviously overpowering the other, having even started to force her open hand toward Yellow’s gem.

Blue nervously looked around for anything to give her an idea. Her eyes locked on something and she gasped. “I’ll be right back!” she said before running off.

“No, Blue-! Gah-don’t come back-!” Yellow grunted as White pushed forward, the pink in her eyes glowing even brighter with Steven’s power.

Yellow was forced to take a knee as a brace, but the effectiveness was little. Both hands were now holding onto White’s wrist as her sharp nails reached Yellow’s chest. The nails dug in around her gem as White’s fingers latched onto the cold stone. Now Yellow found herself trying to hold White’s hand closer as the other started to pull away.

Yellow’s eyes shut and her jaw locked from the pain as her gem was slowly pulled from her body, her hold on White weakening. She was down on both knees now, her entire body shaking with the immense effort of simply holding herself up. Her powers faded as the stone continued to be tugged out and her body started falling apart.

She could just hear the rapid steps of Blue running back.

“Y-you’re too late, Blue,” she coughed out, fully relinquishing her hold. In an instant her gem was ripped from her chest. In that same moment, Blue forced one of Yellow’s swords, which she’d found on the ship, through White’s stomach. White stiffened, Yellow’s gem falling from her fingers, and the purple-pink color faded from her body.

There was just enough time for her to look down at Blue, and she saw her own feelings of fear and defeat reflected on Blue’s face.

Then she was gone, and Blue dropped the sword to catch White’s gem. Falling to her knees, she gently lifted Yellow’s off the ground and carefully cradled both against her chest.

“Oh, Steven…” she sighed, looking out to the monster, “We weren’t much help, after all.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“The Diamonds are down!” came Opal’s shout from above. She had danced onto Steven’s back and was actively rearranging herself as he squirmed, trying to knock her off. He bucked and rolled and twisted, trying to get at her. Fortunately, the one thing this new body of his didn’t offer was flexibility, and she managed to keep her position with relative ease. Thankfully she didn’t have to worry about boulders hurtling toward them, either—upon seeing her perch, Bismuth and Spinel had stopped slingshotting the rocks. Now, they were off gathering more ammo.

Jasper crashed into Steven’s leg in a whirl, grinded against the thick hide, and jumped back with a frustrated yell. She could barely scratch this thing. Not even with Garnet’s added electricity could she do anything to him. Steven just shook everything off. The only things that did actual, visible damage were Opal’s arrows, which left pock marks that oozed small trickles of blood all across Steven’s body, and Connie’s blade, which caused a blanket of slashes on his hands and feet, and anything else Lion managed to reach for her.

“Perhaps there’s something else we could try?” Opal said as Steven started getting more sporadic with his movements. She wobbled and jumped when he threw himself into a rearing position. He snapped at the fusion as she vaulted over his nose, which she shot with a few arrows, before falling to the ground.

She sprinted past Lion and Connie as Steven came back down to continue his chase. Connie saw his eyes widen slightly then just as his face charged by, and Steven suddenly spun the other way, throwing his body up and using his weight to quicken the turn. Lion growled and fumbled to dodge Steven’s huge tail as it swung along the ground.

Opal’s path was cut off as the monster fell to the ground in front of her, a fierce fire burning in his black eyes. She cursed and raised her bow, acting on instinct rather than logic, which ended up being a very big mistake.

Before she could even loose the next round of arrows, Steven’s jaws descended. In that same instant, Opal came undone and Amethyst was thrown to the ground as Pearl was snapped in half by Steven’s teeth.

“Pearl! Let her go!” Amethyst screamed, jumping to her feet and hitting Steven with her whip as hard as she possibly could. He growled, then squealed when the whip slashed his eye. His mouth opened as he jerked back and Amethyst leaped up and caught the pretty pearl that fell from his tongue.

“Geez, P, why’d you go and do that?” she sighed before turning tail and running toward the woods. That’s all she could think to do now—run to the woods. Maybe she could help Bismuth and Spinel with the boulders? Or maybe she and Garnet could try Sugilite?

Actually, with how unstable Garnet was right now, Sugilite would probably just make everything even worse. If they were even able to hold her together.

“Ah, man…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Connie gasped and yelped as Lion stumbled, trying to dodge Steven’s hands and feet as he reacted to whatever had happened after catching Opal. A portal was summoned and Lion vaulted through it as Steven’s foot crashed down, exiting a second portal a moment later just a few yards away, into a cloud of dirt and dust.

Connie coughed as Lion went to summon another portal, but the portal never came. Before the roar even started, both were knocked back as Steven’s hand swatted at them blindly through the cloud. The shock of it caused Connie to lose her grip on Lion’s fur, and they both went flying.

With a hard grunt, Connie hit the ground and rolled. She managed to catch herself with her elbow and knee, abruptly stopping her movement, and she coughed some more.

A few seconds later she heard Amethyst shouting from somewhere, and when she picked her head up to look, she saw the purple Gem waving frantically. Then Connie looked up and her face blanched as a huge hand came down to crush her.

Moments after the hand crashed down, Steven shrieked in pain. The hand that was about to squash Connie was rapidly lifted up, and Amethyst cheered with relief when she saw why; there was Connie, hanging from her sword, which was embedded in Steven’s palm.

The girl looked up, wide-eyed and bewildered at what had just happened. Her eyes went wider when Steven started swinging his hand back and forth to try and dislodge her and she felt her hands slipping. She could see herself moving further and further away from the ground and panic started to rise in her stomach before one of Lion’s portals opened beneath her.

Out came Lion with Garnet on his back, and Connie had the wind knocked out of her as Garnet’s arm hooked around her abdomen. Her shoulders screamed with pain as the sword was yanked free and down the three fell into another of Lion’s portals.

The next portal that opened was further back in the forest, and as Lion landed Connie saw the others gathered there, hidden under the dark shade of the trees. Once on solid ground, Garnet silently slid to the ground, gave Lion’s nose a pat, then looked to Jasper. Connie’s eyes followed, and she saw Jasper standing there with a very smug look on her face.

“Has Lapis reappeared?” Garnet asked under her breath and Bismuth sighed and shook her head.

“I, uh, found Peridot’s gem when we were collecting boulders,” Spinel muttered, holding the stone up. “She’s cracked, but otherwise not in bad shape.”

“Lapis must have dropped it when Steven hit her,” Connie said as Garnet received the stone.

“So,” Jasper piped in, “Are you ready to admit this isn’t gunna work?”

Garnet’s fingers tightened around the green gem in her palm and her free hand curled into a shaking fist. She said nothing.

Jasper huffed and turned her eyes to Connie, who flinched under the hard gaze.

“Gimme that sword.”

“What?!”

“You heard me!”

Jasper stomped over and made to grab it, but Connie quickly rolled off Lion’s back and got into a defensive stance, holding the weapon up. The huge Gem standing in front of her clenched her jaw and Connie took a step back in a moment of fear.

“Listen, Connie.”

Connie faltered, caught off guard by having been referred to by name. She didn’t know Jasper even knew her name. She lowered her sword and stood up a little straighter, caution on her face.

“Listen,” Jasper repeated, and Connie obeyed, as did everyone else. What they heard were grumbles and roars as Steven continued to rampage, nothing but a monster left around his gem. There was the sound of crunching metal as what could only be Yellow Diamond’s ship was smashed, or bitten, or hammered into the ground. The sky lit up briefly in a brilliant pink.

“Give me the sword.”

Connie looked up to Jasper and hugged the sword close to her chest, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She took a few steps away.

She jolted as another roar echoed through the trees.

“Look, kid, you either hand over the sword, or you’re doing this yourself.”

“Fine.”

The word slipped from her lips before she could even form it in her mind. Connie looked up once more. The face she saw wasn’t what she expected, wasn’t one she was used to.

Jasper’s expression was calm, solemn, not proud or triumphant, or anything else she had imagined it would be.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you want to do this.”

Connie stood up in full, brows furrowed and tears falling from her eyes, as she stared. Her shaking fingers tightened around the hilt of her beautiful orange-pink sword, and she forced air in and out of her lungs.

“You knew it would come to this,” she heard Jasper say and she whimpered in response.

Yet another roar rang out.

Connie looked toward the others and found no reassurance, no hope, no…anything.

It was finally time for a new idea.

Eyes returned to Jasper as she came closer and Connie fell to her knees. The sword was hugged closer as she cried silent tears, watching as the Gem that used to be so filled with hate crouched in front of her. Connie couldn’t see any hate in this Gem now.

“It is ‘Connie’, right?”

The girl nodded.

“Steven doesn’t think I listen when he talks, but I do. He has a lot of admiration for you. Do you know that? He always talked about how skilled and how brave you are.”

She didn’t know how to answer. The Gem sighed.

“I’ll ask again,” and Jasper’s fingers were around Connie’s arm, a shocking gentleness as she was lifted to her feet. “Do you want to do this?”

“You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to, Connie,” Bismuth said softly and Connie flexed her fingers around the sword’s hilt.

Then she wiped the tears from her eyes and locked her gaze with Jasper’s. If anyone was going to do this, it should be her. She knew that in the deepest recesses of her heart. It’s what Steven would want.

“I’m sorry it ended up like this, kid,” Jasper said, lifting Connie off the ground. Before the girl could say anything, Jasper had kicked off the ground and was whirling toward the clearing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Jasper jumped out of the spin and landed on her feet, Connie saw that they were at the edge of the chaos, watching as Steven stormed about, having gone past the destroyed battleship and walking toward the closest and clearest item of interest: Little Homeworld.

“I’m going to take you to Steven. Be ready with that sword of yours, because the next time I stop, you’re getting thrown.”

“Wait, what?” Connie gasped and Jasper chuckled.

“Act on instinct, kid.”

And that was that.

Jasper kicked off again and Connie felt her stomach turn at the speed, though thankfully her mind was so preoccupied that the actual motion didn’t hit her too badly.

She felt Jasper lurch as she hit a bump, and the next thing she knew they were above Steven, apparently having used his own body as a ramp.

“Alright, runt, you’re up!” Jasper said and Connie found herself being thrown down toward the roaring creature below, nothing but anger staring back as he tried to reach up to them. A pink flame started to rise in the beast’s throat, a rather unsettling and strange sight to the girl who was falling right into it.

A flash of orange connected to the jaw and it snapped shut as Jasper slammed herself into Steven, and he fell heavy onto his hands. As he shook his head, Connie found herself shifting as she plummeted, sword held high above her head.

Wind shrieked in her ears as she fell, and she saw Steven look back to her and roar. She closed her eyes, a stark blackness swelling in her heart and mind as she accepted her mission completely.

The sword came down.

Then the screaming stopped, replaced by a gurgling, bubbling silence.

The sword had sunk deep into Steven’s forehead, all the way up to the hilt, sticking out from between his eyes; eyes that were so fierce just moments ago, now staring vacantly up at the sky. Thick, red blood oozed from the wound as Connie crouched, leaning heavily on her weapon, her knuckles white around the hilt. Everything hurt, the shock from the impact washing over her, but at least nothing felt broken after that landing.

She looked down as she felt her sword jerk.

Blinding light shot out around the blade and huge cracks erupted from the wound. They ran down Steven’s body, blood and white light seeping and shining from the deep gouges. The blood was heavy, sticky, and pooled at his hands and feet. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he began to fall.

Connie held onto her sword for dear life as Steven collapsed. Despite his size, his fall was slow, and he crashed onto his side in a lake of his own blood. The fluid splashed up and splattered against the girl hanging from her sword and a wave of nausea washed over her.

She managed to force the feeling down long enough to plant her feet against the purple scales holding onto her sword. With a few hard tugs her weapon was pulled free, accompanied by a sickening squelch noise, and then both knight and sword tumbled to the ground, down into the pool of red. She felt the sickness rapidly returning as she forced herself onto her hands and knees, out of the blood now soaking through her clothes. She couldn’t stop the stinging acid rising in her throat anymore, her body heaving as her stomach forced everything out.

Once her stomach was sufficiently empty, with her breathing heavy and her throat on fire, Connie began to stand up. She wiped her mouth carefully to avoid the red wetness staining most of her sleeve, and looked back at the Gems. She saw that Garnet had split, Ruby and Sapphire huddled against Amethyst, who was on her knees with her face turned away, tears streaming from her eyes. Bismuth was holding Spinel, who looked like she could poof at any moment with how hard she clung to the other, and Blue Diamond loomed overhead, with the gems of her companions in her hands. Finally, Connie saw Jasper standing several yards away, and she could tell that even the stoic soldier was forcing herself to look unaffected by what had just happened.

For the first time since arriving in the forest, everything was perfectly silent.

And then a rumbling started up and all eyes turned to Steven. The cracks along his body had started projecting beams of light again, the canyons slowly growing, until the light abruptly vanished. Then his entire body was instantly engulfed in light, which exploded off of him in a cloud of familiar butterflies. They formed a spiraling wall around him, came together, flew apart. The display was mesmerizing, demanding of attention; they danced beautifully in the clearing, intertwining streams of light, breaking a few moments later to rush out in all directions.

A stream came and circled around Connie, and she held her arms up in an attempt to block the force of motion. Even with her eyes closed, the light from the butterflies filled her vision. Wind rushed around her, a thunderous sound of flapping wings, threatening to knock her to the ground.

And then they were gone, as quickly as they had appeared.

The strange white-blue creatures dissipated into the sky and what was left behind brought a new wave of tears to everyone. Even Jasper shook at what she saw. The blood was gone—and so was the beast.

Left behind, where the huge monster had lain just a few seconds before, was the naked body of a boy. He was unmoving, his gem glowing faintly and slowly dimming. His body had splotches of color, scars left over from the monster, and two horns still stuck out from his forehead.

No one knew what to do, what to say.

Then Connie was sprinting full speed toward him, her sword forgotten on the beaten ground. She heard the various footsteps of the others as she ran, following her actions. She almost tripped and practically fell as she reached Steven, her shock, panic, and confusion taking over her body. Quickly, she lifted her friend’s head onto her lap. She pressed her fingers against his neck, the only thing she could think to do. She waited.

The others gathered around her, and Blue’s quiet shadow hovered over the group.

Now they all waited.

And Connie let out a strangled sob as her hands moved to cup Steven’s cheeks. All she could give to the others was a simple shake of her head as her tears fell, gently splashing against Steven’s face. Her body shook violently and she leaned down to rest her forehead against Steven’s as her sobbing grew heavier. She could feel the others’ hands on her as grief spread through the group. Even Blue Diamond couldn’t hold back her magical tears any longer, despite her very best efforts.

Everyone cried and wailed. It’s all they could do. But then something caused Connie’s body to stiffen and she sat up just an inch. She’d felt something, something barely there, something that rustled her bangs and brushed against her skin. Hands were removed from her back and she heard Sapphire whisper her name, voice soft and questioning. Everyone listened for an answer.

Connie rubbed the tears from her eyes—with little success—before carefully moving her hand to hover closely over Steven’s slightly parted mouth. Her hand stayed still for a long time, but eventually she felt it; the faintest of breaths escaped the boy’s lips.

Her sorrowful tears were replaced with new ones, tears of joy as a ridiculous, unbelievable laughter took over.

He was alive.

“Steven’s alive.”

#steven universe #steven universe future #corrupted steven theory #can't hold on #can't hold on fic #corrupt!steven #su fanfic #phoebe fictions #su future

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spaceskam · 5 years

Text

A series of napping for @angsty-aliens ❤️

2008

“Um. Hey.”

Michael opened his right eye to see Alex Manes standing in the doorway. He’d spoken to the guy approximately four times in his life, all to ask for a pencil because Michael consistently had none and Alex consistently had 20.

But now he was staring at him while he was trying to nap.

“Do you need something?” Michael asked. Alex blinked at him and looked around before looking back at Michael.

“What are you doing?”

Michael sighed, tucking his backpack beneath his head more. “Trying to take a nap.”

“In the music room? In the middle of the day?” Alex asked. Michael just huffed and ignored him. It was silent for awhile and then the door closed, so Michael thought he’d left. Except footsteps got closer and Michael opened his eyes to see Alex joining him in the corner behind the raised stands.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked, a slow smirk finding his face as Alex gracefully sat down and then shrugged his backpack off. He put it beside Michael and laid down. They were face to face.

“Trying to take a nap,” he answered. He wasn’t smiling, just raised a challenging eyebrow. His face said ‘say something, I dare you’.

“Okay,” Michael agreed softly. Alex crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Michael stared and Alex knew he was staring and neither of them said anything because this didn’t feel like something you spoke about.

Michael was fucked.

2011

“Gotta warn you, man, a guy came in saying he knew you and didn’t really take no for an answer. He’s in your room.”

Alex’s eyes widened as Lawrence said the words so, so casually.

“You let some random guy into my room?” Alex hissed. Lawrence looked at him like he’d lost it.

“Yeah, man, chill, no one’s after you,” Lawrence said. But the fact of the matter was Alex was fucking around more and more with hacking into things he shouldn’t. He was still learning, he could’ve fucked up. Someone very dangerous could be waiting for him and knowing he knew shit he shouldn’t.

“Was he Russian?” Alex asked even quieter, pulling his gun from it’s holster. Lawrence just eyed him even more.

“No, American, you fucking weirdo,” Lawrence said, shaking his head as he focused back on the game he was playing. Still, Alex held the gun up and slowly made his way towards his room.

His heart was pounding in his ears and he stopped right before he opened it, questioning if he should put the gun away and play dumb. But he knew if he’d fucked up enough for them to be here, it meant he’d fucked up enough to not completely hide his identity and they were certain it was him and not Lawrence. The gun stayed up.

Alex gently kicked the door open and went in gun first. Possibly a bad choice, but he was firm about this decision. He was prepared for a fight, adrenaline pumping in his veins as he prepared to be attacked upon entrance.

And instead he found a body in his bed.

Alex dropped the gun the moment he recognized those curls and those muddy cowboy boots on the floor. Michael laid sound asleep, his face all scrunched up like he was angry about whatever dream he was having. It made Alex smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, though he knew he wasn’t going to get a response. He put his gun on the dresser and locked the door behind him, leaning against it to calm down. Alex smiled.

Michael was laying on top of the blankets, mouth parted with drool in the corner of his mouth and probably staining Alex pillow. His clothes all looked soft from years of use, holes in his jeans and in his t-shirt. His shirt was riding up just a bit, revealing a small patch of skin that looked good enough to taste.

Once the adrenaline of thinking he was about to be gunned down went away, Alex kicked his shoes off and stripped off his stiff uniform jacket before crawling up behind him. He wrapped his arms around him from behind and hugged him so tight that he heard a soft squeak before those beautiful eyes fluttered open.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked again, pressing a soft kiss beneath his ear.

“Well, I was trying to sleep, but I got rudely woken up,” Michael said, voice gravelly with sleep and it sounded like home. Alex smiled wider and breathed in the sweet smell of the fancy shampoo Isobel had gotten him. Alex had on good authority that he only used it when he knew he’d be around Alex.

“I missed you,” Alex said, nuzzling up closer. Michael sleepily pat his hand that was pressed to his stomach.

“Well I drove 14 hours to see you, so I’m glad,” Michael said, “Now I’m tired.”

“Okay,” Alex whispered, pressing his smile into Michael’s shoulder, “Go to sleep.”

They both slept until dinner.

2014

“Fuck you, fuck this, fuck everything!”

“Aw, does someone need a nap?”

Michael spun around to see Alex playfully pouting in the doorway, arms crossed and looking fucking fantastic in his uniform. He had to blink a few times to register it.

“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone before hanging up. He can deal with Isobel’s caterer later. “Alex.”

“I got a nifty little invitation to one Isobel Evans’ wedding,” Alex said, walking further into the ballroom that was decorated for the reception. Michael gulped. They had gotten into a fight last time they saw each other three months prior and they hadn’t spoke sense. “I didn’t know she knew about us.”

“Uh,” Michael fumbled, trying to piece together the fact they were technically still in a fight and yet Alex had come all this way, “She doesn’t.”

“Well, she must have a idea since she invited me,” he said, stepping up to Michael completely, “Listen, I’m sorry about last time.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve have gotten angry at you for wanting to re-enlist. It’s your life,” Michael said, bowing his head. Alex grabbed his hand.

“No, it’s our life,” he said which was enough to make Michael’s stomach drop and his heart skip a beat, “And you deserve better than me just deciding things for you. Listen, I’m in town for two days, can we talk about it?”

“Yes,” Michael said without hesitation. Alex smiled and moved in for a kiss that ended in Michael just going in for a hug. He needed that hug. He needed Alex.

“Okay, now, who were you bitching at on the phone?” Alex asked. Michael huffed and decided not to move from the comfort of Alex’s arms.

“The caterer. They said they got the order wrong or something and they’re not bringing any vegetarian option. I have to bitch at them until they do because I know for a fact I order vegetarian options,” Michael rambled. Alex chuckled and rubbed his back.

“How about this,” Alex suggested, pulling Michael out of the ballroom and into the massive back foyer. There was a fainting couch sitting against the wall and beneath a large painting. Alex dropped himself onto it and Michael dropped himself onto Alex. “You take a nap–the bags under your eyes have bags so don’t fight me–and I’ll handle it. Give me your phone.”

Michael gave it up willingly and snuggled up close, his eyes closing. He hadn’t gotten more than a couple hours a night since he and Alex had fought. Maybe he could actually steal a couple hours before he had to be at the rehearsal.

He dozed off to the sound of Alex insisting that chicken only just wouldn’t do.

2017

“Hey.”

Alex stared at Michael across the room. He was partially hiding behind the door frame, looking childish and scared and slowly making Alex regret calling him. But he wanted to see him, so he pushed that regret away.

“I’m okay,” Alex assured, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the truth, “C'mere.”

Alex was posted up in the spare bedroom of his brother’s house. After he’d lost his leg, he had to have someone sign off saying they’d be there to help him adjust and that he wasn’t just going to try to do it on his own. That led to Kat, Greg’s wife, insisting that she play mommy. Those weren’t her exact words, but that’s how Alex heard them. He was too appreciative to be angry.

“You don’t have to look at it,” Alex promised as Michael hovered by the edge of the bed. Michael’s face contorted into something even more hurt, but he quickly sat beside Alex and took his hand in his.

“Oh, God, Alex, I’m not grossed out or scared of your leg,” Michael insisted, bottom lip quivering as he brought his hand to his lips, “I just… I hate that you’re hurting.”

“I’m a lot better. The scars are healed and I got fitted for a prosthetic yesterday. I’ll get back to normal,” Alex promised. He didn’t know if he was promising Michael or himself.

Michael shook his head and kissed his hand again. “None of that matters to me. As long as you’re safe.”

“I’m safe,” Alex promised. Michael let out a sigh of relief and moved forward, settling in bed beside Alex and putting his head on his shoulder. It was the most Alex had relaxed in weeks.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you before this,” Michael whispered

“I didn’t really want you to,” Alex admitted. Michael snuggled closer.

“Does it still hurt?”

“It’s mainly just sore. But I’m also on painkillers still.”

“When do you stop those?”

“When I run out of this bottle. I only take ‘em when I need 'em.” Michael squeezed his hand.

They sat in silence until sleep took over. Too many hours were spent apart. It didn’t matter that it was noon.

2020

“The baby is asleep and I’m going to kill you if you don’t put that down.”

Michael looked innocently up at Alex who had his hands on his hips in the most motherly way. They had gotten the task of babysitting the littlest Ortecho, 6 month old Illiana. Liz needed a break, so they agreed to watch her for two whole days.

Now Alex had turned into a sleep deprived mom.

“Put what down?” Michael asked.

“That,” Alex said, gesturing to the towel Michael was folding, “I hate how you fold them.”

Michael blinked up at him. “Since when?”

“Since I went into the bathroom this morning and half of them were folded into squares and the other half were folded into rectangles,” Alex explained. Michael slowly put the towel down and decided he’d fold them again once Illiana was back with her parents. “Okay, now move the basket off the couch.”

“Alex–”

“Just do it.”

Michael did as he said and prepared to get angry at him for being bossy, but Alex didn’t really make that an option.

“Now lay down.”

“What?” Michael asked. Alex just raised a challenging eyebrow. Michael laid down on the couch.

“Spread your legs,” Alex continued to instruct and Michael smirked.

“There’s a baby in the next room.”

“Will you just do as I say?”

“Yes, Sir,” Michael agreed happily, spreading his legs as he was told.

He was expecting some more bossiness to occur alongside X-Rated nudity, but instead got a whole body on top of his. Alex laid his cheek over Michael’s heart and his hips fit securely between the space his legs had left open.

“I thought this was going a different direction,” Michael chuckled, wrapping his arms around him nonetheless.

“Rule one of parenting: nap when the baby naps.”

“Yes, Sir,” Michael agreed again.

This was way better than folding towels.

#malex #malex fic #malex ficlet #michael guerin #Michael Guerin fic #alex manes #Alex Manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #my fic

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

Kloktober, Oct. 9th: Crossover or your Fave AU

I’ve been wanting to watch Over The Garden Wall, right?

...and now I’m here, in an AU/crossover thing wherein a few things have Happened:

-Greg never escaped the Unknown. I’m sorry for the Sad, but it was the only way to make the plot make sense

-Skwisgaar is in the Unknown. I am sorry for the additional Sad.

-Greg can’t escape anymore, but he knows now that this lanky, grumbly, music-loving man reminds him of his brother, and so he wants to help Skwisgaar escape

Will he?

Well ya gotta read the dang fic to find that out!

TW for implied death.

My love to all who read/like/reblog this very silly thing!

“It’s a rock fact!”

“It...ams not,” Skwisgaar said slowly. “Yous have been singings the word rock for forty five minutes. That ams not a fact, nor ams it about rock.”

“My brother would think it’s a rock fact,” Greg whimpered, clearly hurt.

“Where ams your brothers anyway?”

“He’s somewhere,” Greg replied, hugging his rock friend with its little painted on face close to him. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Yous...don’ts know?”

“He had to go away. Or he got to, I guess,” Greg said. “The important thing is he’s not here, and he’s probably doing well. Maybe he finally talked to Sara!”

Skwisgaar didn’t have the slightest fucking clue what this kid was on about, but Greg swore he knew how to help him get out of the woods. Which was nice, considering he had no memory of how he’d gotten there to begin with.

“I bets he has,” Skwisgaar said. “What abouts you?”

“What about me?” Greg replied, sing-song.

“...Yous...lives in the woods? Who ams looking after yous?”

Greg’s eyes filled with tears, but he brushed them away. “I look after me. And my frog! He helps look after me!”

Skwisgaar tilted his head and stared at the frog Greg thrust towards him. “Um. That’s...goods. But your brother-”

“Wirt is far away,” Greg sang softly. “Far, far, far away, and that’s okay!”

There was nothing more to be gained from Greg in that moment, as he bounced down the road, holding his frog above his head and swaying him back and forth, singing his newly made song over and over.

“There ams a bar, maybes a taverns thing?” Skwisgaar said, gently grabbing one of Greg’s arms before he could bounce away again. “Can wes stop there and gets food?”

“Are you hungry?” Greg asked, confused.

“I...no,” Skwisgaar pondered. “I thoughts I should be, by nows. But...no. I’m nots.”

“Sooooo....on we go!” Greg shouted, taking off at break-neck speed down the dirt road.

“Waits!” Skwisgaar called, and chased after him. He had no interest in anything resembling fatherhood, but he couldn’t help but worry for this kid. In the back of his mind, he could just barely admit that maybe, Greg reminded him a little bit of Toki, or how Toki could have been as a kid.

“I’m the Highwayman,” the man stepped onto the road, and Greg skidded to a stop, Skwisgaar doing the same just behind him.

“Goods for you,” Skwisgaar said. “We gots to go, comes on, Greg.”

“I make ends meet,” the Highwayman continued.

“Delightfuls, have a wonderful nights!” Skwisgaar called back as he gently pulled Greg around the Highwayman and down the road.

The woods surrounding them rustled, and suddenly the Highwayman was in front of them again.

“...I work with my hands...”

He didn’t want to think this man was dangerous, despite his apparent name/title.

But something itched at the back of his mind, and he reacted blindly.

He picked Greg up, and sprinted down the road away from the man, checking the sides of the road as he went to see if the Highwayman was following somehow.

“Put me down!” Greg screeched, and he stopped dead and set him down.

“He wasn’t going to hurt us!” Greg sighed. “He’s just the Highwayman!”

“By names, that ams literally someone you don’ts want to meets on the road!” Skwisgaar argued. “My English ams not always greats, but I’m not stupid!”

“Wirt wasn’t either, but he acted stupid too!” Greg shouted back.

That broke him. Fat tears rolled down Greg’s face, and he let Skwisgaar pick him back up without another protest, sobbing into his shirt.

“Where should we goes next?” Skwisgaar asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Greg sniffled. “Do you have to go, right away?”

Skwisgaar shook his head. “No. Still don’t knows how to leaves this place anyways. Maybes I can stays a bit, helps you try and get back to your brother?”

“I don’t think I can,” Greg replied with a sorrowful whine.

“Wes tries anyway,” Skwisgaar said. “My brothers amn’ts related by bloods, but I wants to get backs to them. We shoulds get you back to yours too.”

“Wirt’s my half-brother,” Greg said softly. “But I love him like a full brother. He’s really cool.”

The dark of the night was unsettling, but Skwisgaar was determined not to let it scare him, for Greg’s sake. For however long this kid had been all alone; he needed this, he needed someone older to look after him so he could be as scared or sad or whatever as he wanted to be, even if it was only temporary.

“Whiles we travel, what else can you tells me abouts Wirt? Yous said he likes musics, what does he listens to?”

“Well...” Greg’s voice, light and excited now, tears drying, echoed down the road as they continued on.

At the tavern door, the inhabitants of the tavern looked out at them and shook their heads in unison.

“That long-haired stranger ain’t leavin’, is he?” the Butcher asked the Tavern Keeper.

She shook her head. “Don’t think so. A shame, really. But good for that little one. Little ones need someone to keep them out of danger in the wood.”

They all nodded and sighed as they went back inside. He wasn’t the first to end up staying, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Just another night in the Unknown, simple as that.

#text post #LeeH writes #metalocalypse #metalocalypse fic #kloktober #Over The Garden Wall #ngl I did not ever think I would tag these two fandoms on the same post #but here we are huh?

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ronyxfic · 5 years

Text

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXXVI

Pairing: Rose Quartz/Pearl, Rose/Greg

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: none for this chapter

CHAPTER 36: Getting on

Pearl leaned back against the wall, relieved at some privacy. She carefully rolled up the leg of her trousers so she could assess the damage to her knee.

It wasn’t really telling. All she knew that it looked... normal? Did all knees look this wonky all the time? She couldn’t quite tell. But she was in pain, and it hurt more if she tried to move.

She sighed.

The candle next to her flickered again, and this time, there was no gust of wind. Pearl frowned, and then noticed to her dismay that the wick had nearly burned down; the candle was about to die, and Greg hadn’t left another one.

Well, she still had her lighter. And her phone. It was okay.

Greg padded to the edge of the neighbourhood, the next door flat appeared dark, too. His face fell as he realised the spot where the neighbours usually kept their car was vacant.

His fears were confirmed as he knocked the door, his knuckles stung as he received no answer.

"Dang. Guess I gotta make it to the other house nearby." He glanced over his shoulder and sighed as he realised he had to walk around the culdesac to get there. "Hold on, Pearl."

Back in the basement, the candle went out with a soft hiss, leaving Pearl in the dark.

She was fairly sure she’d never been in any place this dark before. She could see absolutely nothing. Her fingers were clutched around the lighter, and she fumbled in the dark.

“Ouch!”

The flame had licked her hand. “Fuck,” Pearl hissed. Well, at least she could see now. Somewhat.

Her finger was hurting, her knee was hurting. “This just keeps getting better,” she muttered to herself.

It had been a few minutes since Greg left. Pearl tried to move her leg once more – maybe she could get herself back up the stairs, where it wasn’t so suspiciously quiet and dark.

She nearly shrieked when a large shadow crossed the lighter’s flicker. Fuck, what was that? She looked around frantically, and in her panic dropped the lighter. It snapped shut, leaving her completely in the dark.

“Oh no, no no no...”

She fumbled around, found it with her fingertips, but then managed to push it away, out of reach.

She sat still for a moment, and then remembered she still had her phone. Surely that should last her until Greg came back.

It was on 2%, which was less than she’d hoped for.

Greg speedwalked to the edge of the road and slumped his shoulders as he realised the lights at his destination were off, too. As were all the ones he could now see in the distance. "That ain't good." The wind had blown his candle, too, and the lack of streetlights made it more spooky than usual. He swallowed and turned back in defeat. They'd just have to wait this out.

Pearl had barely managed to get a text out to Amethyst when her phone buzzed and shut down.

She let it slide out of her fingers, unable to hold back her tears anymore. Greg wasn’t back, and who was to say he was going to come back at all? What if he’d been hit by a car, and she was just going to rot down here? What if he decided she was too much, and had retreated to his van?

And what if her leg was actually broken, and she would have to go back into hospital? What if she wouldn’t be able to walk ever again? Would anyone even care? Would she be able to go to university? Or maybe whatever threw that shadow earlier was going to kill her here and now, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that ever again –

She sobbed into her good knee, hoping and praying that at least maybe Greg would be back soon.

Greg paced back, looking around as he tried to remember to retrace his steps. This part of the neighbourhood was damningly alien to him. As he reached the door, he looked at his candle and frowned. How would he get to the basement without light? Pearl had the lighter, after all.

He sighed and turned back to the neighbourhood again, looking for a door to knock on for assistance.

A small noise got Pearl’s attention. Something was rustling, and it sounded like it was close.

She remembered the shadow passing the light earlier, and shivered.

It’s nothing, it’s nothing, there’s nothing here.

She sat, frozen, trying to stifle her sobs as she heard her heart beat in her ears and listened intently for the noise she’d just heard.

Greg had managed to attain a small flashlight from a house on the opposing street and was making his way back, rummaging his pockets for keys.

His throat went dry as he reached the front door. He'd left them on the table inside. A small, annoyed scream escaped him.

Pearl meanwhile was still holding her breath as the rustling happened again. It sounded closer this time. Her heart sped up, and she could barely choke back her sobs.

I’m gonna die down here.

And then,

Nobody’s even gonna notice or care. Everyone hates me anyway.

Greg tried to pound on the door but sighed in defeat as he realised that Pearl was hardly in a position to help him, anyway.

He took a few steps and looked around at the fence that obstructed his access to the garden. The back door might've been left unlocked, they often did so to allow Lion access into the house whenever he went into the shared garden.

Pearl could barely hear the pounding on the door over her sobs. Her shaking fingers found her phone, and she barely managed to press the power button, breathing a soft sigh of relief when it started up.

But it only stayed on for about five seconds before showing the low battery alarm and shutting down again, sending Pearl into another round of sobs.

Greg climbed over the fence, hissing as parts of it pricked at his skin and clothes. Crashing on the garden on the other side felt disorienting and painful as his thud echoed in the night. He dusted himself off and tried to find his way to the back door.

Which was also locked. He pulled his palms into fists and growled at the night sky before pausing as he swore he heard a faint cry.

"Pearl? You there?"

That, Pearl heard.

“Greg!” He was back, he hadn’t abandoned her –

He didn’t sound like he was in the house, though. “Wh-where are you?”

There was no point hiding the fact she was crying.

"In the back yard. You're... Oh yeah! The basement!" He tried to come closer to where he heard her voice. "It's got that little window that hooks up to the garden. It's open!" He tapped at the glass. "I got locked out. Of all nights to happen, huh?"

“Fuck.” Pearl leaned back. “Well, at least you’re here. I’m completely in the dark. I lost the lighter and my phone ran out of battery.”

"Oh Jesus, and here I thought I left you all safe. Alright, I'm gonna climb in through the window. I think it should be safe."

“Are you sure?” Pearl’s voice was shaky. “We can’t really deal with both of us being injured.”

"We can bond in the ER together." He said as he opened the window further and peered in, grimacing. The drop looked bigger from his position, and he swore he saw something at the bottom, but the lighting obscured his vision too much.

“Be careful, Greg!” Pearl shrieked as an almighty crash told her Greg had gone through the window.

A couple seconds passed. "Ouch..." he groaned, but Greg picked himself up. "Nothing like a paint bucket to break your fall. I'm okay. Now where's your lighter gone?"

“I... just out of reach... over there.” Pearl pointed. “Do you have your phone?”

"It doesn't emit a lot of light." He held out his brick phone. "Oh, I think I got it here. Nearly crunched it." He lit it up and held it to his candle and looked at Pearl. "Now what got you so riled up?"

Pearl looked away, trying to hide from the sudden light. “S...sorry,” she said, “it was just... really dark and kind of spooky and I’m in pain. It’s... it’s okay, though.”

It all seemed silly now, now that Greg was here and there was light.

He sat down bedside her. "Entire neighbourhood is down. Looks like it won't matter until it gets fixed. Do you want me to call someone for your leg?"

Pearl sighed. “It’s done this before. It’s usually okay after a while. Though I guess some ice might be nice. Do you think Rose keeps a freezer down here?”

"She does indeed." He gathered himself up and went to the freezer, tucked in the corner. "An ice pack, coming right up!"

Pearl almost smiled. Her tears were still drying on her cheeks. “I bet this wasn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted to spend time with me,” she joked, half-heartedly.

"Yeah, well, at least you're not running away from me." He handed her the pack. "I don't bite, you know."

Pearl took the ice pack and rested it on her knee, sighing with immediate relief. “That’s a bit better,” she said. “Um, yeah. Uh. Sorry about that.”

"What's the deal with that? You know that we can just be friends, right?"

Pearl’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I just feel... awkward,” she said. “I mean, with Rose, and everything.” She gave a short laugh, embarrassed. “It doesn’t help that Rose has apparently told you all about me, and yet I know barely anything about you. But I guess that’s just cus I never asked.”

"I'm an open book, I'm sure you can. But it's okay if you don't care, I get that it's difficult." He sighed. "If anything, Rose just tends to tell me things when I ask her how her day's been and sometimes I need a lil context for that. I'm sorry things went the way they did between you two."

“It’s just all... weird now,” Pearl said. “I mean, she’s still my teacher, right? And we’re not, like, in a relationship, but it’s weird to think that we... could be. Like, after I finish school.” She hesitated. “I’m not all that sure I want to be.”

"Well. That's up to you two to figure out. I'm just worried about her still being able to work, that stuff from before made her so stressed. Rose was really struggling." His voice was soft, forlorn for a second. "You're still young, too. There's so much that you're going learn and grow between now and her age. It's easy to love Rose, I mean, I know I do. But you probably wanna make sure you really consider it all."

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve got my exams and stuff as well. I shouldn’t really be making my relationships a priority at this point.” Pearl’s shoulders slumped.

"Sounds like that's difficult for you." Greg sat down beside her, lighting another candle. "Do you get scared of being alone, like, if you're not dating someone?"

“I guess. And scared if I’m interested in someone, that they’re going to leave.” She sighed. “And scared that they’ll love someone else more than me. Like... Rose. With you. I guess that’s why I was avoiding you.”

"Rose never loved me more than you, Pearl." Greg found the courage to lightly touch her shoulder. "Just differently. Circumstances were tough on you both, too."

“That’s... good to know, I guess. Although I regret causing her so much stress.” Pearl sighed. “I can’t believe I nearly got her fired. That wasn’t okay.”

"No, it really wasn't. I mean, it's a complex thing. She messed up by overstepping her boundaries as a teacher, too, and that was her responsibility. It's just a miracle she's been able to keep her job." Greg sighed. "If it's worth anything, she said she's never going to date another student again."

“Well, that’s... good, I guess.” Pearl frowned. “I don’t know how to feel about that. I mean, it’s her dumb tendency to get too close to students that got us into this in the first place. But also... I really don’t know where I’d be if she hadn’t gotten involved. I might not even be around anymore.”

"I'm sure she knows how grateful you are. She just wanted you to be okay. I don't think she's ever going to stop trying to help people, but I think her learning from this is important, too."

“Yeah.” Pearl sighed. “Well, anyway. I know like nothing about you. How did you meet her?”

"I was busking back when I was living in my truck. She found me and we hit it off, and I got a place to crash at." Greg smiled, a look of warm gratitude in his eyes, illuminated by candlelight. "First truly healthy relationship I ever had."

“You were... homeless,” Pearl said softly. “I guess that explains why you moved in so quickly. She’s... she’s amazing, isn’t she.”

"I kept telling her to trust me a little less! Who knows what I could've been? Sometimes I get the feeling she trusts too much." Greg looked at her. "Too easily, yanno?"

“Yeah, I suppose. I feel like I manipulated her a lot, even though I probably didn’t mean it. I’m glad she’s so trusting, though. There’s not a lot of people like that.”

Pearl tried to move. “Ugh, my leg is still really sore. I kind of want to get out of this basement, though.”

"I can still help you up these stairs if you'll let me carry you." He offered, looking at the swelling on her leg. "Doesn't look like I can get you out otherwise without calling emergency services."

“...I don’t want that, for all sorts of reasons.” Pearl swallowed. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

"Only if you're totally comfortable. I know we're not really friends, and that's okay, too. I just want to make sure you don't sleep in a grimy basement floor." He got up and looked at the candles. "I'll need light. Can you hold them?"

“I can try.” Pearl took one of the candles. “Maybe just one of them. Should we, uh, put out the others? Just in case whatever’s in here knocks them over and starts a fire or something.”

He tentatively put his arm around her torso, and then slid the other one as her body lifted off the floor. He tried to keep his touches conservative, mindful. "Got the candle?"

“Yeah, I got it.” Pearl was cradling it, careful not to let the wax spill. “This will be an adventure,” she said weakly. “Right, let’s get upstairs.”

Greg groaned as he pushed up with his legs and lifted Pearl up and took a few steps. "Good thing you're so light, huh?"

"Heh, yeah," Pearl said, smiling uneasily. "Think we can make it?"

"Should do. I just gotta make sure I keep all weight shifted on my front so we don't fall over backwards, but you're pretty secure." He began to wobble a bit from the strain as they slowly neared the midway point.

Pearl felt the wobble and held on to Greg tighter. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"We don't have much other choice," he replied. "I'm not leaving ya down there."

Pearl fell silent, clinging on for dear life. Not far now.

It was as if Greg could read her mind. "Just a couple more steps." He then took a sharp breath as his legs lurched and he caught himself before falling back. He stood still for a second, eyes wide, illuminated by candlelight.

Pearl let out a small shriek, then breathed heavily as Greg readjusted. "We ok?"

Greg nodded, feeling Pearl's terror as her fragile body breathed heavily. He began to hum gently as he steadied himself and took a cautious step up. Three left.

The humming was strangely calming. Pearl felt herself relaxing a little. We’re okay. It’s gonna be ok.

He was slower now, still humming as he brought her up, and soon only one step was left. "I'm going to put you down on the floor. I don't want to take risks. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Ready." Pearl gave him a nod.

He placed her down and breathed a sigh of relief, carefully stepping over her and opening the door. He leaned over. "Doing good?"

"Yeah, I think so." Pearl sat up, tried to move her leg. It was not as painful as it had been before. "Might be able to walk, if you help me."

"Sure. Can you get up on your own now?" he asked, bending down to offer support.

"Maybe." Pearl heaved, shifted her weight, tried to find something to hold on to.

"You can put your hand here." He gestured to his shoulder. "I'll support you."

Pearl grabbed his shoulder and somehow managed to hoist herself up onto her feet.

Well, foot. She tried putting weight onto her bad leg, still holding on to Greg's shoulder.

"Ouch."

He grabbed the candle, illuminating the corridor. "We just need to make it to the living room and you can sit on the sofa." The house was still pitch black. "Still sure you don't want me to call someone?"

"No, it'll be fine," Pearl said. "It's already better than it was." She shuffled along. "Reckon the electricity will be back soon?"

"God knows. I just hope it's at least before Rose comes back."

"Still, that could be weeks," Pearl said. "Do you know what she's up to, exactly? Is she still in hospital? I haven't heard much."

"No idea. I've got a real bad feeling about it all, though." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Aurora is still really freaked out about the whole thing."

"Oh, she's the one who bonked the principal?" he asked as they made it to the living room.

Pearl laughed. "Well, yeah. Though they're an official item now."

"Oh! Good for them." Greg pulled the throw off of the sofa and made a space for Pearl. "Do you think we should elevate it?"

Pearl moved her leg up onto the sofa. "Might be a good idea. It's still sore." She then glanced at Greg before quickly looking away. "Thank you," she said softly.

Greg gave a tired shrug as he fetched a few cushions to stack. "Just making sure you're okay. "

"I'll be fine." Pearl gave a sigh. "Uh, so, what now? We can't really... watch things or make food while the electricity is gone."

"Hm. Guess we could always have some cereal. That milk is gonna need to be used up quick if there ain't any refrigeration." Greg paused and then nearly stumbled backwards as the lights flickered twice and suddenly came back on. He winced from the sudden brightness. "Hey! Wouldya look at that?"

Pearl let out a surprised gasp, and then a relieved laugh. "Well, there we go," she said. "Let's hope it lasts."

Greg looked down at her leg. "Ooh man, yeah lemme get ice for that." He looked around the room. "I think you also wanted to charge your phone, yeah?"

"Please! Is there a charger down here?" Pearl sat slightly more upright. "Or I could see if I can make it up the stairs to get my charger from my room."

"I wouldn't move too much until we've iced that." Greg handed over a charger and a plug. "You don't wanna make it any worse."

"Ah, thanks." Pearl plugged in her dead phone. "I think it feels better already. You know, sometimes I think I'm just overly dramatic."

"Naw, I heard you scream and from what Rose said, it sounds like a reoccurring kind of injury. Happened to my leg after I broke it, it's been a while since it's been bad but I remember it. You should take it easy." He padded over to the kitchen. "I'll make us some tea."

"Thank you." Pearl sat and felt like she could breathe again now that the light was back on.

Another thing was different. She didn't feel the compulsive need to be alone in her room, away from Greg.

Huh.

"Did you say you had some boardgames or something?" she called out to Greg in the kitchen.

#steven universe #su fanfic #su pearl #su greg universe #gregrose #pearlrose #su human au #educating the victim #etv act 6 #illustrated #animated #will act 6 ever end?#we just dont know

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novantinuum · 5 years

Text

Crack the Paragon, Chapter 7

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 3.4K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which actions are louder than words.

First | Last chapter

You can find the AO3 link in the reblogs! (I have to omit it from the original post these days to ensure this will show up in the tags.) If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support over there as well.

Chapter 7: Silenced

“Are you out of your mind??”

"Pearl, please understand, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” you explain softly, the sunset illuminating the face of the pale Gem before you in shades of pink and orange as the waves crash onto shore behind her. “Human life is simply incredible! Never stagnating, always living, and loving, and learning. I want to pass on my gem, to create something new with Greg, someone who can grow! Someone… who can finally be free.”

“But- but Gems can’t have babies!” she sputters, throwing her arms out. “We don’t have the organs for it, or genetic material, o-or—“

You shake your head, enthusiastically cutting her off.

“That’s no problem, I used shapeshifting like Amethyst always does! And believe me,” you say with a conspiratorial chuckle, “you know better than anyone that I’m fully capable of holding this for the next nine months.”

“That’s not my point!”

“Then… what is?”

“My point—! You always do this, Rose!” she shouts, her pale blue eyes growing damp. “You know I try to support you, but I can’t do that if you never talk with me before leaping headfirst into whatever fanciful desire you please, and- and deciding everyone’s future for them!”

“But isn’t that… what I’m doing now?”

“No! You never even asked me how I’d feel,” she says, voice thick. “And that’s your problem.” Tears stream in rivulets down her cheeks, her lithe body quivering. Roughly, she wipes them away, and turns to escape your presence. “You never do!”

“Where did it go??”

The sound of shrill panic abruptly wakes Steven, the precise details of his peculiar dream already beginning to blur into obscurity as his eyes flutter open. A line of half-dried drool, slimy and still warm, extends from the corner of his mouth. His dad is softly snoring next to him, swaddled in his stolen covers like the very image of a sushi roll.

“No, no, no!” Pearl shouts from the kitchen. There’s a dull clap as her hand swipes across the counter. Something light (cloth?) falls to the floor. “This can’t be happening, not now, not again!!”

Yawning, he presses his fingers against the slight ache at his temple and sits up, blinking in confusion at his surroundings. “Wha—?”

For whatever reason, the beach house has devolved into absolute chaos between the time he fell asleep and now. The couch cushions are all askew, one of them flung halfway across the room. Two of the kitchen stools are overturned, and the bath towel they nestled his gem in last night lays in an abandoned heap between them. Dishes from the open cabinets are strewn everywhere on the counters. Meanwhile, the contents of the game shelf by the window— which Pearl normally keeps meticulously organized in alphabetical order— have exploded across the floor with little to no regard to the walking hazard they pose. If her intent was to blow through the place like a one person wrecking ball, then she’s clearly succeeded. No corner of the house is left untouched by her mania. The Gem roughly swings open the fridge, rattling the condiment bottles in the door. After a brief pause to scan through its contents she huffs, and slams it shut again.

Her arms shaking, she grips tufts of wispy peach hair from either side of her head. “Where is it???” she cries, her voice edging towards borderline hysteria.

“Uh, Pearl?” he asks, uneasiness churning in his gut at the sight of his guardian under so much stress. He swings his feet over the edge of his bed. “Pearl! What’s going on? What’s wrong??”

She freezes momentarily upon noticing he’s awake, her cheeks flushing blue.

“O-oh! Thank goodness you’re finally up,” she says, bounding across the room and up the stairs to him in no more than five steps. Her hands grasp his shoulders, a frantic gleam in her pale eyes. “Steven, where’s your gem?! Have you seen it??”

“My… gem?” he mutters, scrunching his nose as he peers up at her. In the fog of his exhausted, sleep deprived mind, for a second he has no idea what on Earth she’s talking about. Where’s his gem? His gem’s at his navel, inlaid flush with his skin like it’s always been, so what is she—

In a flash, snippets of recent memory eclipse everything else that’s at the forefront of his attention, reasserting their place in his psyche.

“Go ahead!” Bismuth snarls, jamming the tip of the breaking point rough against her concave gemstone. “Just do it!”

A sharp cry, his world standing still as a searing pain tears through him from the gem at his core to the very tip of his extremities.

Too damaged to sustain himself, his hard light form poofs into a cloud of smoke. He remembers this from both perspectives, now. And with the memory of the searing pain his other half was in… he wishes he doesn’t. The cracked gemstone hangs in the air for just a moment, morning sunlight glinting off its facets, before plummeting lifeless to the ground.

“—it’s Pink Diamond,” Garnet whispers in horror.

He swallows hard as the burden of the last few hours quickly rears its ugly head, weighing down once more on his shoulders. Oh, right, he thinks, resting his hand atop his stomach, over the unfamiliar facets of his newly flipped gem. Almost dying. That was a thing.

“Yes, your gem, I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” Pearl says, throwing her arms up. She leaps to the ground floor from the lofted level, and with a skip and a flourish so unbefitting of her current state of panic, jabs her pointer finger towards the kitchen counter. “I clearly remember setting it right here when we put you to bed, but now it’s nowhere to be found!”

Her words degrade to incomprehensible mumbling as she continues her fruitless search, this time localized to the space around the fireplace and the bathroom door. Finally understanding what has her in such a tizzy, Steven leaps to his feet and follows her down the stairs. Of course she’s freaking out, she thinks his gemstone disappeared entirely, or walked off, or got stolen! She has no way of knowing what happened on the beach early this morning. No one does. Someone’s gotta tell her, and that someone can only be him. Rushing to his guardian, he gently tugs at her arm.

“Pearl!”

She forces a laugh, the sound of it neurotic and unhinged, as her fumbling fingers remove a small photo of the four of them off its hook on the wall. “Well at least we can say for certain it’s not hiding behind this framed photograph!” she announces, smile stretched just a bit too wide. “Just one less infinite possibility to check…”

“Pearl, listen, you—“

“And it’s not like it could simply roll off the table without a trace, right? Am I right??”

“Please, you don’t have to freak out, ‘cause I—“

“But it’s okay Steven, there’s no need to panic! I know we’ll find it eventually, yes we will, of course we will, how could we—“

“I have it!” he blurts out, grabbing both of her shaking hands. “I have it.”

Held securely in his, her hands fall silent. The panic drains from her in but a breath as she stops to contextualize what he’s just said and what it means, her mouth slipping slightly ajar. Sensing that he’s firmly caught her attention now, he continues, heart hammering in his chest.

“Last night, the gem reformed as me, a-and… we fused back together.”

“You— you’re back to normal,” she says with glassy eyes, voice softer now.

He tugs at the collar of his pajamas. “Well, more or less. There’s a bit of a catch, and I’m pretty sure none of you are gonna like it.”

Her expression is blank with confusion. “Uhhh— a catch?”

“Y’know, it’s probably easier if I just show you,” he reasons with a nervous chuckle, and— sweat beading on his forehead— lifts his nightshirt to reveal his gem.

Pearl kneels down to peer at it straight on, hand balled into a fist at her chin. “Oh!” she says first, brows shooting up on her face. Then, her features narrowing the more and more she looks at the newly exposed facets of his diamond: ”Ohhhh...”

“This is what her gem looked like, isn’t it?” he asks. “Pink’s?”

Her eyes shoot wide open at his query. “I—“

Immediately, her palm clamps tight over her mouth, strangling whatever words she had planned to share.

Steven cringes as he watches her struggle against her orders, a seed of guilt churning deep within. “Oh, right. You can’t… sorry, I forgot. We can talk about something else, if you want!”

She’s thankfully able to pull her hand away before too long. A distant part of him wonders how this gag order works, how it knows in advance what Pearl plans to say, if there’s any loopholes they could possibly find to skirt around it...

“I— I’d appreciate that,” she admits, suddenly looking very tired.

A lopsided smile brightening her face despite her exhaustion, she reaches up to affectionately ruffle his hair. He flashes her a boyish grin as her touch flattens some of his wild curls against his head.

“You know,” she says quietly, glancing at him with such a softness reflected in her pale irises that it almost makes him forget all the stress he’s endured, almost makes him believe nothing’s changed since yesterday, “there may be a lot I can’t talk about, but what I can say is that I’m so glad to see your beautiful smile again.”

“Pearl,” he responds, blushing with half-hearted embarrassment.

“Now let’s clean up this mess before your father wakes up, shall we?” the pale Gem chuckles nervously as she rubs her hands together, glancing between the trashed ground floor of the beach house and the middle aged man miraculously still snoozing away in the loft above.

“Nose-goes on kitchen!” he says hurriedly, tapping his finger against the tip of his nose.

She feeds him a mock gasp, already crossing behind the counter to start returning the plates and glasses to their rightful homes in the cabinet. “Oh, you rascal! How ever will I organize all this by myself?”

Steven gives a soft laugh at this, and then promptly sets himself on tidying duty. First priority is the board games strewn across the floorboards in the corner. He kneels and begins arranging the boxes into piles. From there, he stacks each pile nice and near on the shelf by the window. After straightening the stacks so the box corners line up, he moves to pull open the blinds to let more sunlight in the house. A blissful smile stretches across his face as he pauses his work to bask in the morning glow.

Already feeling a good deal more content about everything in the reminder of daybreak, he turns to Pearl. “Not gonna lie, I’m kinda surprised Dad was able to stay asleep through all our racket.”

“Greg?” she scoffs and rolls her eyes, piling a stack of plates on one of the shelves. “That man sleeps like a rock. Which,” she continues, resting her freed hand against her chin in contemplation, “as an idiom, is actually rather ironic considering that ‘rock’ is common slang for ‘Gem,’ and Gemkind as a whole doesn’t have a biological need for sleep.”

“Well, I think you can blame humans for that one,” he laughs, picking the missing couch cushion off the floor and returning it to its home. “For anyone outside Beach City, rocks don’t actually move!”

Ever so slightly, the edge of her lips turn up. “I suppose that’s true, yes…”

They fall into a fairly comfortable silence for a while after that, as they put the finishing touches on the last nooks and crannies of the beach house that needed attention. Steven makes sure the floor is spotless, every stray pillow, toy, or decorative item returned to its rightful place. Pearl finishes tidying the kitchen, re-organizing the cups on the shelves by color and type. By the end of it he can proudly say the place looks leagues cleaner than it did yesterday. For good measure, Pearl pulls a broom out of her gemstone and sweeps up any debris littering the floor. He helps out by holding the dustpan steady as she brushes the sand and dust bunnies in.

“There!” she proclaims once they’re finished, proudly surveying her roost as she solidly holds the broom with the same level of decorum with which one might hold a rebellion era rampart. “That’s much better, don’t you think?”

The ground nearly shimmers in its cleanliness. Heartily, he gives her a thumbs-up.

“Yeah, looks great!”

With a big yawn, he glances up at his father’s slumbering figure in the loft above, for a moment jealous that he’s not still snoozing away too. Four or five hours (or however long it’s been since he crawled back into bed, he hasn’t checked the clock yet) simply isn’t enough rest for a growing boy. He always tries to aim for eight or nine. Maybe he can bridge that gap now, though? Would it help, he wonders, if he falls back asleep a good twenty minutes after he woke? As he ponders this mystery, he ambles past Pearl, heading directly to the couch.

“Steven,” she says with poorly disguised concern, as she watches him abruptly flop over onto the cushions in his sheer exhaustion. “If you need to talk about what happened, then I—“

“I’m just a little tired, don’t worry about me,” he says, eyes drooping shut as he curls up tighter.

“Don’t wor—“ Pearl cuts herself off suddenly, choked up. She’s at his side in a flash, and he feels the cushion adjust for her weight as she sits herself adjacent. “How can I not worry about you? You went through something no child… no Gem should ever have to experience!”

“But I’m alive,” he points out, eyes cracking open a smidge. “I’m alive, and you guys dealt with Bismuth, a-and we fixed it like we always do, so- so there’s no point in fixating on what could’ve happened, right?”

She rests her hand on his shoulder, her fingers hesitantly shifting over the seam of his pajamas as if she’s suddenly a complete stranger to the art of comforting. Normally he lives for her shows of affection— her occasional head pats, loose side hugs, a hand clasped tight on his arm as she gently leads him through hazardous terrain on missions— but in his mounting desire to be left alone in peace to rest, he bristles under her touch. She doesn’t seem to catch onto the hint, though. Still hidden behind his neutral expression, he grits his teeth.

“I-it’s not a matter of fixation,” she continues, “it’s a matter of unpacking difficult emotions. You have to understand, the state of being cracked, it’s not one that most full Gems are easily able to bounce back from, and I just want to ensure that you’re not—“

“I’m fine, really, I am!” he snaps. “You don’t have to keep fussing about it! And anyways, it’s all over now, isn’t it? So can’t we at least try to move on from this and let things be halfway normal again?!”

Pearl reacts like she’s been physically struck. She yanks her hand back, resting her palms on her knees as she turns her head away. A cautious glance at her face (or at least the half she hasn’t intentionally obscured from his sight) shows one muddled with a blend of melancholy and that sort of silent displeasure he’s long since grown to associate with disappointed parents. He swallows hard, shame settling heavy like the diamond at the pit of his stomach. He went too far.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he sits upright, cheeks heating up. He stares at his fingers, rhythmically flexing them.

She doesn’t vocally respond to his apology, but her form does grow visibly less tense. It’s a start.

Fully audible through the walls of the house, the tides crash onto shore, gently pulsing in and out. It doesn’t take long before the pace of his heart matches the ocean’s unwavering drumbeat. His naive young mind twitchy under the throes of the unnatural silence, he yearns for some concrete image to latch onto, anything to spirit him away from the present. Not before long, distant threads of memory from the strange dream he woke up from this morning rise to meet his pleas.

Most of the details are fuzzy, indistinct and abstract as one might expect from a dream, but nevertheless just enough specificity remains that he can’t help but wonder if this was more than your run-of-the-mill moonlight fantasy. Frowning pensively, he balls his hand against his chin. The sky was streaked with lines of pink and orange, he remembers. The tides swelled with the same unwavering prowess as they do this morning. He knows he was standing somewhere near the temple, because he clearly saw one of the stone hands half-buried on the sandy shore. A familiar ivory and peach figure stood defiant and distraught before him— no, not him!— before his…

“You always do this, Rose!”

His hands. They were wide, pale, free of the familiar calluses built up from years of plucking strings on his ukulele, they… they weren’t his. This body wasn’t his.

Mom. He was dreaming about his mom. But why, and how? He’s had dreams with her in them before, but they were always different, they were always from his perspective. They were always fluid and nonsensical. This, however… this one felt different, somehow. More tangible.

Almost… real.

“You never even asked me how I’d feel,” Pearl said, voice thick. “And that’s your problem. You never do!”

Realization dawns over him like the glow of the morning sun rising above the horizon. A sudden sickness churns in his stomach. He’s almost horrified, disgusted with his past actions in rudely brushing Pearl off like that.

She just… wants to know how I feel about all this, he thinks, throat constricting as he swallows hard. She wanted to know if I’m okay! But- is she even okay??

Is there more to this dream of his than meets the eye? Is his subconscious trying to tell him something, trying to lead him to take some sort of action? Have they really not asked her that enough?

His fingers drum against his leg as he gathers the nerve to speak again.

“Hey...”

“Yes?” Pearl says quietly, tone clipped. She’s still glancing out the window, turned away from him.

“How are you handling all this? Everything’s suddenly so different, and…” He grips the fabric of his pajama bottoms, his eyes burning hot. “I know you can’t say much about it, but I just wanna make sure you’re doin’ okay too.”

She finally meets his glance, her gaze glassy and wet. Her bottom lip quivers, so subtle he almost doesn’t pick up on it. In all the time he’s lived with her, he's not sure he’s ever seen her so vulnerable, and the sight of it drives a razor sharp point right through his heart. He takes a deep, grounding breath, and continues.

“And I want you to know I don’t blame you for this,” he reassures. “Even if you couldn’t tell us anything, that’s not your fault.”

“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking.

“If there’s stuff I can do to make things easier, let me know?”

Her ice blue irises skate upwards as she deliberates, desperately grasping for an answer to his open ended question. Steven clasps his hands together in his lap, and simply waits in silent patience. His legs dangle back and forth over the edge of the couch.

Pearl sighs, her long suffering exhaustion evident. “If, in the future, you could avoid asking probing questions about your mother or abo- about my past on Homeworld, that would be a great help.” She presses her thumb and forefinger firm against her forehead, right under her gem. “It’s… painful, suffice it to say, when programming kicks in. And to answer your first question, I’m honestly trying not to think about any of it too much. Like you, it would seem,” she adds with a bit of a mirthful chuckle. “I can’t claim it’s good advice, but that’s where I’m at.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats with a sniffle, leaning into her shoulder.

Tenderly, she wraps her arms around him and nestles her cheek against his mop of curly hair. It’s a blissful comfort, a wordless promise that more than anything else makes him feel safe. Secure.

“So am I,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Notes:

I have a headcanon that Rose took ages to reform after Pearl staged her "shattering," and in the midst of that Pearl had to go into hiding with her gem so the Crystal Gems didn't learn their secret. During that, I imagine she probably lost Rose's gem at least once, and almost had the Gem equivalent of a heart attack. Which is why she's flipping out so much about it happening again, with Steven.

I also hc that Steven doesn't actually upset Pearl too often, out of the three main CGs. When she does get especially upset though, she's the type to give the icy silent treatment.

#su #steven universe #pearl #su fanfiction #su fanart #crack the paragon #my writing stuff

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