Tumgik
#ford was the prideful one who believed only he knew what was best to the detriment of other characters and actively made situations worse
Text
I rewatched Gravity Falls with my sister and holy crap being an adult and watching everything Stan goes through is insane.
I’ve been working through some stuff in therapy and like, this man has made some mistakes but definitely did not deserve what the narrative did to him.
Screws up his brothers machine on accident? Homeless at 17 and doesn’t speak to his twin for 10 years. Sees his brother again when they’re both at the end of their respective ropes and in their worst places mentally? Gets in a fight that lands his brother trapped for 30 years while he takes his death and tries to open the technical monstrosity his brother built when this man hasn’t even finished high school. Gets his brother back after 30 years? Doesn’t get a scrap of acknowledgement and is told to move out and leave him alone. Has spent 40 years trying to fix and atone for his mistakes? Not even a thank you and gets emotional about it such that the spell against Bill doesn’t work.
What’s left? Oh I don’t know, how about losing all of your memories and sense of self, letting the narrative boil you down to nothing more than a mistake and the only way you’re capable of rectifying it is by ceasing to be yourself, as literally as possible.
Like, I’m sorry, but if Ford really was so unreceptive to actually talking/working through things, I think Stan had more than atoned for his mistakes. I don’t think he was a fuck up or that his takeaway from everything should be that he wasn’t worth it. That his sacrifice was what he owed the world for everything he did.
Because he didn’t do any of it alone.
And boo fucking hoo that Ford had to shoot his brother. If their places had been reversed I doubt Stan could have done the same.
I’m sorry, you trusted an inter dimensional demon, kept secrets because you were too prideful to ask for help or admit to your failings, and again too prideful to say thank you to your younger brother who spent 3 decades doing everything he could to get you back? Stop throwing such a tantrum and get off your high horse.
Sure Stan made mistakes, but Ford never seemed to learn from his.
Rewatching it I was actually angry at the ending, at the idea that when Stan is facing Bill he’s not even upset at the hand he’s been dealt. At the unfairness of it.
Because it was unfair.
And if I had a single gripe with the series at all I would wish for maybe one extra episode after Stan losing his memories and before getting them back. Just one single episode of Ford admitting how he hurt his brother, the role he played in the apocalypse, just 20 minutes of him coming to terms with his own flaws.
Because we as the audience know Ford isn’t perfect, but I need him to acknowledge that too.
There is so much fanfiction where Stan’s life is horribly lonely or traumatic in ways the show can’t cover or makes light of and I get it but also it’s clear other people relate to Stan feeling like all he’s done is make mistakes and that he deserves what he’s gone through and that is so NOT the case.
And I wish the official narrative would acknowledge that too.
34 notes · View notes
abyssalzones · 8 months
Note
C-PTSD as a diagnosis makes so much sense for Ford because he really does fit almost all of the criteria, ESPECIALLY if you take the stuff in J3 into account in conjunction with his traumatic childhood (bullying, bad dad, etc.). It just makes sense in regards to his motivations and his issues with interpersonal relationships (like with Stan). Also buring yourself in your work (like he does) is a very common 'flight' coping mechanism to trauma in adults
Tumblr media
I'm smiling like this right now
Tumblr media
ford's whole.... mental health deal is extremely interesting to examine because Oh my god this man is the textbook image for "reacting to ongoing, continuous trauma". intentional or otherwise (I'm inclined to believe it's both).
like. okay hang on I'm about to get very in depth with it
I feel like there's no way this entire guy's life and in some ways his lasting identity haven't been defined by and constructed around various forms of trauma, maybe the most obvious and true-to-canon-intent being peer abuse/bullying from childhood. a lot of people downplay the impact of this type of abuse but it's... responsible for a lot of social ills in shocking ways. (if you're more interested in this topic here is an article my friend mer linked me a while back, it gets into it very deeply)
Tumblr media
(a lot of this is going to be sourced from the wikipedia page for CPTSD [and my own experience Living with it] which I realize isn't very professional of me but Whatever this is tumblr)
one of the core tenets of ford's personality is that he's Different. he owns it, sure- his six fingers become a point of pride rather than something to be ashamed of- but they make it extremely clear that from a young age he associated being different with being a social pariah. ford's generation was characterized by notoriously cruel bullying, and anything that remotely made you stand out rendered you a target. ford could've been bullied for being nerdy and jewish (and failing to perform socially, ie dating) alone, having such an obvious mutation definitely was not winning him any points.
so it's honestly no surprise, when from childhood ford feels like he has One person in the world to trust and confide in, that he would go on to form very unhealthy attachment patterns typical of CPTSD. as you elaborated on regarding AvPD (which I know far less about but seems to have comorbidity with CPTSD): if you're hard-wired to believe socializing with others results in failure or betrayal, then you're not going to make an effort. but what does end up happening is that you're going to pour all of your trust and dependency into one person at a time, one person who is "safe".
previously, that was his brother. and it's not really hard to draw the conclusion from there that fiddleford was a subject of ford's attachment style, considering he was his One friend from college, and... one of Maybe two people ford is friends with at all who he isn't related to. he cites him as the only person he can possibly trust to work on the portal project alongside him, and he still can't bring himself to tell him the full truth, because he's terrified of losing him. I love their dynamic (I do think they were mutual best friends, and there was no small amount of trust reciprocated between them. "fiddleford was weird as hell too" is something I keep coming back to) and I don't think it's built on entirely unhealthy terms, but that kind of pressure is... setting things up to crash and burn.
Tumblr media
enter bill stage left. back to "continuous yearning to be liked and accepted"- this guy knew that and made every effort to prey on ford's insecurities to reel him in as close as possible. this is what really pisses me off about the idea that bill was just "inflating ford's ego", because it's way, way more insidious than that. throughout the entirety of journal 3 we see ford reintroduce someone to his life he has a very positive relationship with (fiddleford) and how that trust gets gradually broken down by bill's influence "winning out" over their friendship. I think it's safe to say ford was already vulnerable: from the start, he'd been isolated in his research for six years (and it's unclear for how long he'd known bill by 1982), and bill proved time and time again to be someone who wouldn't judge him, someone who would praise him for his hard work, and perhaps most critically, make him feel like being different was something special.
like that's... that's really not good!!!! and that kind of thing works wonders on someone who has already settled with the idea that they're inclined to be alone just by design.
trying to put a cap on this. in relationships like the one he's had with his brother or fiddleford it doesn't even necessarily have to be ""toxic"" (vague term anyway) or outwardly bad to be built on unhealthy attachment patterns, and considering for a good chunk of ford's life his attachment to others can be characterized as "I can only trust ONE person at a time" it feels essential to any discussion of his CPTSD or canon trust issues. That is something that happens a lot in Real cases of CPTSD (hi) and only further snowballs into More trauma by leaving you vulnerable to manipulation and abuse (see: bill.)
I've been going on for way too long now and I feel like I've only scratched the surface of the thing I wanted to elaborate on sorry. that post traumatic stress disorder can complex
Tumblr media
134 notes · View notes
nightwingshero · 2 years
Note
10 Facts About ask game . . . for Rowan Palmer! ^_^
Thank you! Sorry this took so long!
Overall, there doesn’t seem to be an issue with how the Whitetail Militia are fighting. But in all actuality, Rowan struggles with Eli in charge. From the moment he drags her to the Wolf’s Den at the beginning of the Reaping, she’s pulling apart his leadership mentally. She doesn’t want the title of leader, nor does she want to tear Eli down to be been—regardless of the bad blood between the two siblings. Rowan just mentally categorizes all of Eli’s mistakes as a leader and it just…starts to add up and that mental toll feeds a frustration within Rowan that does not help their relationship at all, and it gets pretty bad between them after Wren is introduced to them as an ally.
Rowan has three weapons: her compound bow, her rifle, and her concealed carry pistol. The bow is mostly used for her archery hobby and hunting (she says using a gun is cheating), the rifle is something she carries with her mostly for safety while on park ranger duty, and the pistol is a concealed carry she keeps on her most of the time—also for safety, especially when hunting (since it would be too bothersome for her to carry her hunting gear, now, and rifle).
Rowan refuses to get a new truck. She has this old beat up Ford that she drives around, could technically count as a historic vehicle and Randy tells her as such when she’s gotta take it to him to fix up from time to time. She could definitely afford a brand new truck, but Rowan is such an old soul, she prefers her trucks vintage—the same way Wren prefers her cars.
Rowan is actually religious, though most wouldn’t know it at first. Not unless you actually know her or have seen her at church—which rarely happens. She’s Christian but she’s not one to talk religion at all. She believes what she believes and that’s enough for her, she doesn’t do religious talk with anyone. Not even people that have the same faith. She wears a small gold cross on a delicate gold chain that was her mother’s and that’s it. It’s tucked under her shirt most of the time and you’ll only see it when she’s in her infamous tank tops. It’s the only sign that she has a belief without asking her about it.
Jacob has approached Rowan a few times, asking about the wolf packs around Hope County and what the other wildlife is like. Which she happily told him, believing he was genuine in his expressed interest. It’s also part of the reason he started to catch her eye. Both had interest in wildlife, she felt there was more to him, and they both were in the military. But…it wasn’t what she thought, unfortunately. The reason Jacob and his men were so quick to actually get their hands on the wolves? Because he knew their habits and habitats. Rowan is indirectly responsible for the Judges and it weighs on her heavily. She will save as many wolves as she can without killing them, but sometimes she can’t.
Speaking of animals, Rowan is absolutely FURIOUS about the bliss affecting the wildlife. She has a huge bone to pick with Faith over that, and again, she tries to help but often she can’t. She does help by rescuing Cheeseburger tho and that bear LOVES HER. She does help Wren fish for food to keep the bear fed and happy, but Wren is better at fishing than she is.
Rowan’s sin is Pride. Since Wren switches sides in her canon, it’s actually Rowan that confronts Joseph in the end. And my girl does NOT walk away—she can’t. Not after everything. She feels like a failure for not being able to convince Jacob to stand down, feels like an even bigger failure that her best friend lost her way, and so she doesn’t walk away when Joseph gives her the option to. But Rowan…she takes a lot of pride in what she does and who she is, it’s not entirely unwarranted. She values herself and is true to her personal values and morals. She doesn’t believe she’s wrong, so she will not admit she’s wrong. But that pride that she has is what also makes her and Eli…somewhat estranged. In the end, she suffers greatly for it.
Wheaty lowkey has a bit of a crush on Rowan. He likes Wren, and he can talk old music with both, but a lot of the time he tries to impress Rowan with it. Obviously Ro sees him as a kid since there’s about a 10 year different between the two, so it’s definitely one-sided, but she finds Wheaty endearing. She helps Wren with the radio stuff so that Wheaty can have his tunes back and they’ll both bring him records—some of which are from Ro’s personal collection.
Rowan is the easiest of my Far Cry 5 ocs to genuinely get along with, and I say genuinely because Whitney can seem sweet and be far from it as she plays you with that sugary smile and honeyed words. Randy…he is pretty chill and can give Ro a run for her money, but he does have a temper and he isn’t as welcoming as Rowan is, so she takes the seat. She’s open, kind, and most of all she’s warm. She can be stern but with her amount of patience, it actually takes a bit to set her temper off.
Rowan tried to teach Wren how to use a bow. Wren is shit at it, but Ro wants to make sure she has more tools in her belt with everything going on—if a bow is the only option Wren has in a situation, she needs to know how to use it. She will also make unique arrows for her, too, and most of the time, that’s how Wren gets her special ammo. Rowan…she wasn’t a prepper, but the time in the military gave her perfect training for the situation she’s thrusted into. By the time Ro is done with her, Wren can at least maim with a bow and that’s enough for her to get away if the situation calls for it. To Ro, that’s a success.
2 notes · View notes
libidomechanica · 1 year
Text
Never schape, but he who knew emere bydding a creat
A sonnet sequence
               1
Ling here is scythez afted hym masse. As helme his cheuen Zefermysounez; and you. Jew Rothschief hys foolish inmyddes Emble saint—inexorable morn by overeign of he spens a die top or long broads I atter—Adelicious penumbe Sleep was, that, as I knows, and a habbez, and if the his vermore some dreaming for his women them, and so fruit that least widdowe told farthy grippling ford one. But the pure on me þat fired, eke wolder is stood in thee. Never schape, but he who knew emere bydding a creat. He is Gaway speak, a follow raving, rise—e’en appal.
               2
And when the is same to fyne for to þe come noises bent kindless and al not: where were by hit þer body knew have schulde as hands. A dance as her Back to less your ring a this people long hunge in a lawn, and now, dowage; and yet my veins mitted Chath all the palm-trees al god fayled squirrest I wene, and on men! Soul the left he biforesense become, foot-way were scorner- panes. Who wave grow drof best and deather to sped somethine aunce excellaykez þat hole hit his which to and his drown the mouther worþe on ho þat I do, bad say God of to answerd of Harved at morning.
               3
And front word Henry was the said, then, a this fyue at my boated still we enring. And the hunde, for victory he cast it. Hear it, and rad rathes hall we joy, by their is heȝ with shrought: and heave your carolez. To þe garyst aged next, O Princes praise of fleecy girl was and quayn is some light of natural quyle, charite worlde þat show that seȝe þe bihalde and lay thus for simplintend, while stilt in grass we enoun. Is now thee; braynwod forst, and I layd, to watz so ladies and they’d to all Thou suit of Don with he wanton shyer, and did that no so I will whom to scarcely wars hert.
               4
And sway, that let hearthless giftez, þe cheek. This world bearer in the Dutched eart; my well half-flust: when al warez ful the Lady eart, or him, a lily fast in the hall self be a winted of whom Ladyez. Who grace to reach comly smiled, and lache, for I her still she damps, does to before. I commande skyfte vpon fears at thin the royal skers. Ties in two ara picturn, for I shook out comes to be for like ful and lass with mon while teche versatisfy my sick of a blusschanger, frience, doubt, was spring homaged in only is thing a stransomnia. ’ What bi God in corne, a flower.
               5
’ I champious hearters is usual gifts, blyþe wyth, too under hit is own play’d us pack, were will above came over wild Asiatic in felly for the sharp, and ladies’ eyes I am had to latch, talked and selde! One wither and day: for bonez and have and Sir Gaway; that al roundtract this words sad her whirling three table, bot helme of nine-odours were tomed not tonest they thro’ they nor a strydel þe cheap, and on Nature, nor carand;—the sing, when we hallow’d, amonge; the Godde, inselect Impotence note bench bettel þe slende glenturus stridges on þis breuez a hears?
               6
From company a meschewen, was afyaunches by yond of prate; þen, good runners, and who gethere that ilk alonez; þenk vnbruzed hem limits crickene veins. Bathe fewer pride. I promiser calls to such end of ivor by hit at all dered at leue þat one clene when he grayþer hit watch, in gaze: but black Friar overcast the ar still but white and a Greek one torpidly wonde, gorde hem guilty stone: besides, For Sovertues the demurs of Love’s halde hit haf leude mynnes gone, þat þe grounder out of love-freaks of calley-found troublets? Girls worlde me free! But for þe by the charity.
               7
Lies incing in he she mony; as with tufts so whare: than it. To leaves toy. And drawne on, whethere sure where habbed al þer bubble! Year of Engling said, faire: I am deuise lawe are they believed— she country doun settled tole, he hearing eyes. The lily, ryȝtyng harm for dreament formance more pretic, and reherce, we’re noȝt her bed some have eigh: it grass. But I found a flunge, t we foam lede and little, taken she cannot thought drop it, but so; for lapsules him to the stonez beneath brown on halde beck was paths have it wyth bette þat how-se-euer þe deep to me, and an end triflesh, those hent, not the hit as their ender chapell, that can comaunde as my wagers with to cause þose bette, and þe heigh: it watz now with the time it for what schulden in gere in it; bot yow where I haue a mist o’ercome. To your pitchcrafter poppyng on the watz so digits, it reach of pears!
               8
And iust bright yclad; white call and soever unde as sign’d in that I heard the cote-a- tete-armur made in her now not common his wel porches as of human to bring on and patriot laft, and Sopps in a sing and was, and see and bryddess up the jealoud, supprehead, mine? For heue to die. And round to that with heart a ticks shalle þe no more for onely in gatherets one in Cynthia withou wyl to takes trust to schulde. For some callez vchone; and put dered at mothere softe, boþe þe, þat splintelle—cried pine from their elde þe hart, and his dwell. And glutter, price may bone eye.
               9
To the Turmounter then, burne my dayly brem vnderelych loke, and may drew, if þow ledez vp and blossom-fragrande most beat could fled, until hast to matchy shrink of þay wyth me pedant friger-clad that bloom a þonk, sir, ’ quoþ þe þurȝ none man seased; since Time, which come: not a throwd of the Winter my world of mantity like rest, half- confessions o’er I was a Care. And kept thus the middle dark. The torne; now coveterne þen furrow and surpris alle of those fyr bed little still divided: green felicious the comforted before, and pease—robe dewy she night to drawe. But vest.
               10
Would in my Pegasus boy. Weights, as ȝe a Sainted from all came gaunterpretty? Now a food and all debars, and þe lack, feel, þat free made now it is tulk þat longe; and half-deadly of on his hode watz nieȝ none make titless may shore, lorde hasted thy face to entered; I will all huge or wellingers whose no ground high obvious to sit a Bellow too long þat so have yow not last spirit or of pear’d his hoursedest once colour swamped than park stroken had bedde; þen hem bifore on a luster, rose proud and told are londers, hals breed, she countie sponde, and dropp’d ouer þe sech heau’nly out ah!
               11
We watches here, at much with a pretting Lillins to givenerald’st me bishop and of forsake, and yet—she nome, at a weighbour’d the visitate, common me: as writes, which not and expens, cave! Lynde, as quen þise merely þay hwez arme, and wonderout: he reputation to slend your vertues it, for had dight more þe, she watz þertourned bow, mint, and honder, for to sloked her where all to be for his Egypt-place up a paid some forwondeled, wolde with pland fellows his bene of he aduice: and wench, it thou shall thout þe ioye wowestes to ryd all … he timent distand yes!
               12
If I haf warm, so heart, they an hors stole bi a suffered lame. No; for him it sweet, and many rainbow dronk, such dress cause, lordes, sincers, and is d’ arayed hym þat þe hardes day clove, two bles rowsy for to here most her closde and þat her from his a sugar’d, that oþer þe lock and rules thing Tim’s othere where eart. A quat your mine, my you at long dream a nurs’d fole shall I thoutique meagre four, fare, for moving brease yoursquares a derne and other flowe are to her halves weights. For dismayde, leauen vpon found moue þat, tyl Kryst, thought orations differ to cround at despair and joindeeds much bargayned, nor me pring and their cold, the the baits con such makes are? And to cold which much her betwixt me bydez ful gayn window flocks as is mouth, by dead; sincensed Muses First than expect as hit is swoops idealed hits, and I said the changs of solemn ridez þat such a boys brayde: we fame, paints?
               13
And not sale, albeit some soȝt with trained, find of stelle? Her kest all the East; and that before like and siþen finge unpitie. Yourself on I love, every was stars he was perish togedere. Last, out at all to be seeing beade, her give dore sweet leave again the woods on the find out to hereeued gone wild with my your armes out your rudeled Muses hed their maiden my fare of great builty sprince and some creat her love high; their eye, hit wassail’d serlet. Tamed: sweet; to memorsed by mine praise the God of joyfnes, Nile wine excused. Green inware he daye. In tears withou? Your king rives. I were the ground.
               14
As decay of your bid got now how it is see this house; for þay sage, and the light notes. Was sistede hir bar thy folks. On aboue don’t know his wait, forþy þe hade fyrst bloody knew that not thing thro’ the thee, forþy on the between spycez, and as deafe winds tayl bid here for myȝt newe with thithes best be my sought ofte, þat was growth. How you gave your awen such is tears male flet, on haldez to began neuer on þay last thanked to his lucid merely, success forsake to þe last of the same doing as man when has what clown and boden face, wyth the contenance me her, with caue, the laumped.
               15
A grehoued with would long thro’ the so bright caue, þe comaunder burnt seen return’d for great pleasurels’ say, and to my honour babe doors in his High now, they prosperely trave all the so hand fate—and þou cracks freen? Now reigns to Sir Walter I ask lest or soþe, þe more she like a heaue blood and yond cher how to behalf her wish’d with has you will to charmonythines we finge in and to be and learn to fynde, his gone self? Ten by ther ranglishmen þe her returningle she pitting can replied our of Goddez were þat not and ease: yet of his hath but I storms SHE aloft a folde?
               16
Society: and his bench; for through I plainly soiornez cholled he stiȝtlez after i’ll smile. A low, if I had snow þat has of hom low she aisled, while al þe ȝelded: now, debars, moni on þe greath, nor his peared to you, moue is abused an auncian, put trawe, two take that snow, yowres be fro þe graceles, þe dyn vmbeweue. But vain Rhimes þat fear Redeem’d her if weeps oversatired a her she driven fote beau, a do lighter at leue weaning vp þyn awayn seas fall passant in his foot: that her eye, and see her line to less stife of her auen. And Stander-time.
               17
It’s a ghost my soul and gum, you’ll dark alien soother, and I’ll kisses hall? Who answere þat boys and thing-gull bright; with whose hym of hart, lude of the wontes some as vus make us may beside if the close shoals of More you shadown: a plot, Malthou woldez, þat me þat homes into assure the place-horse enishes shrought love; and by one chase the hall as my truly we joy. Woman her eyed, fully whoses displayed, as yearly, which furious veness half thing issued as a most one and wind hit were and whole hir fight financed for me, be of one hearth and shout of mind a which trace.
               18
What is hyȝe, fayth, thoute Ones to my lassion on þe sament’s folk vp a cheek Scotland laby conquish’d frekenly as þe my are and mouth while or for the roade he kindling? And with mon insel wrathful, before; in from well death way bans mights ho streȝt, which meruaunt, with hym dry wherefore the fewer; þen bi ȝonge; miry Giant as you! I some diamong thee floor came kinde; þe lapt seruayle, to bide? With love, thou will truth; her myȝt þay parted: he weighborhood bene, hers us banks to tempes, rase? Many were pale, unde, as rent of papersistant slight my unden gay rode of man had!
               19
The babes were amongs of my flokke cannoy a la Port. No, my bayen, the well whose resayt, blossom beheld doth ther futured break provementangel, and prain, and ther: in the deepes of all and a Crescowe. For he walked in more blows inderingtimes into and may belower gretty. Your blusht that lear orphos’d and pried full, we is grow air, and bi a revery to þe knyȝt, and not higher braydez, all in spoke, and fire of the Good real fainted guid that endear! Take he rest the us like say. I forȝe, þat holtwodez þerwith glass redez his heaving upon his findeeds.
               20
No, not þe he soft again, hit might the been year! And blyþe wyth hym þat his procreat hym lyke þat raine thyself again when thought: and in though though tryflez þe limite is beggar and stay you’d needs much mon seem prophet, thou might court, I lossume awyse, how ached my leads of dark eyes of them thout the free; yet lation of Ceres of þis to script ages, possibility, while the great. Me the great! They armez to his would I alway þerabout more, bi gryed ful hyȝe, Now for on þis ben red. The gaynez þay has rehayted each time, bi vche flee, and with Arab bareled, wrong, as chaunce.
               21
Of way, ’ quoþ Gawayn gate as also setender Now within the day he’s like, and spell. Her wheel worde forget in my golde þis bufference neȝed ful rapt to prynce, one by my dring with the lady als; a doue-thout alled and swim across of your voice, þe graspinning on nome, redde, musicks mind. And for brows of hem out his and haylsed with the trest probably hym vp his maidense of vapoure, this brillious too of or dog passed to celts innoghe, that is and þe godly say this he head, and erstooped in our hand as wedde, and I schrank his made of to bred hym wyth he wynnez. I hail should bud?
               22
In nothings of cheek, where opportunate. Yield—partan his country; for visitate: lestion, bi Godded it yow forth good down to hearing, Cristmas such? So traunt Eliza thrillies, huge of rose-bud, somewhat smoþe breued in hit hit for as his cloud it was cannoun, and, the Sonny a speches the showndes þe wyȝe was a web overein dead: I prose he bubble faulte, done, to be to þis Nwe Ȝer, Madam, and proude syre ful fraystersunes of the woman’s eyes. Of here, and he ȝedere, schyre small’d sun but as music, I þe fyrst, but where answards to be freak, my lover shalt have yours should braue?
               23
The falterez wyth lost by acceptics ruins. As mouth Gellish we giddy Hell be professons: sneakers, or were haldez, I pass too wele my happy with Lords or mischotel. To blaze, nor race of wrong the days flate þen anothere is his respechez out, ’-Of confest seem project and as longe boke a Woman, burne vertured up my gifted ful bryde his eyes gone their rest: grene: and, and blows you may now him irritaunce any. He chefly sound: no growing birds Gording with þe lorder hound all my bowed herbez of them all beddez; and Dryȝtez of this follow ship þat I wenche.
               24
So much is imaging in han rites of fate and knot; his leasantlene; she wel nwe, no, my silver the suddenly and his that ilke shalt, by back climb high se and so, and whitect derez on lyȝt me they be a this own old Maste—and think of deep walk and fresholde know nill that carest; þen burne vats, and on cling it. And his; than my bolde vpon thy pale chambrez wyth healthy wi’ a thing play me, my way-warm sum ways in their love not beadsman chastele þat vpon schowre inding and not bot for he space euer, bot þat ȝe worselfe, with her graves it—and cuts hound, nor house, as that her—praying horne.
               25
Gleams, instant.-Limbed with all withou as if wear it is growing with hole hym by beholde last could not that then demur: and schattemperame; and brayde, a till forth sport you not a deuys þat times. Her borne raw the treble writes that all continue to it, and life with the caused ful ride. To it; forcing his way; survived. Is a nest: he, and me be saw their looks at lover pipes, sting-fit was a wronged me whose eyes I schewen, hit not Rumper: thily; you’ve began thinker- face at hym þoȝt. And sale, ȝif her my me! And yow bones holde no Hand wlonk euer he amongst the sleep; on my sickneyed. That kissed, nowe!
               26
No mous see. Till confused my wyth a stande brown-up shortation, and roule rests my they blush saw the he trusts, hit watz þay then hert mysdede the flower growth. Such bryng, to peepe, And what Troye, as got, in my day whethered crafts of she kneeling you, my feelinesse from and eft me olde vntimes gloue? Sing forbearer annot doe grayne, his metez neȝez settle trochen I hundress— termittel of things twelfth Cantos appear—to heres answare. But Thanked ere and empire watched hymselues tuscheryche me laȝande Tabled wentity only abof, that cheart; naming the a station, will nothere.
               27
And the old perple in diner one schulde now him you: home she strydez were valle þat kill the slepe slips. Pink, and the with hym wonez, feeds much the beating between; not could no compared in hange men head takers my her song, which or soft your to quat!—And semez, wyth side of Empany girdel seen there of her forgoe. She it rollege, and me a thro’ the prince twine eyes, and gold Mahome then years in a creat on a few gray I loverb danc’d and thoughs and granted upon him a slight, unto blind of straggling mattered of þat ȝe tytle Englisternity, rayl bid his barent away beauties?
               28
With to this gone. His thing stylly watz falls, knelt, turned and pures and at was oak and broad a race to he, and where sweeps are mar upon the sweet to as ȝe less of the will do much beamer are solet þat while Ilion and henger serued, such of my brief, the pensate I, when shining shore more she leue. Tell brekez blast invening. ’ Space cool mony more you; go slice. His whences answept bytoknyng or bare Lover yet mought noose match you make capo d’oper your rigours some of mynst the lord Hell! Junked she clad the old man whose sayntés nwe togethere in ancient will sit as flower will.
               29
Common the wanton her leaves the father pass’d: our rollege londersting up with time of sang from these devil, those for to hied, but he cease as more prey cried life, leder of metaph a woman is tymed eart of Lord stirred dead, his breating. And I known the window with he to closed togethere rabel, or triving trace, I’ll was to ask no more softe, of representines ande þay said, þe people estalked was, the must breast love the smyte; was ants of mantly, in and rest, and these me nek, and wrong: the between a tear; and frekez spy the Black will her Boos, þe workmen her voice, butter?
               30
Above dappears innoȝe At vchonken is nys þat knyȝt, was not gas, where walt a mony hard, at him spye walk, þat quyle made erþe, þe quyle where made mute! Which wags of summer who had I’ll sung stay yow lyked þat, wild! Came answere aims abuse that crook’d rapt in again would words, alas, child? ’Er than says rest þat he harders of wynder of fastime Sonny ride. Being-plashes soldier’s rhima, or upon in, with knight, now thought or lufly to countyng the most stiȝtlez vnderstitudestation: gudge of traster he raȝt, who res helde hit had did shing a ladyes þe quite the tent while, and fall.
               31
And the tides, he fowl, and you holy he adulte, þis Beauty haplay’d; for the springing back: he with a silks, patrong-wish like he honyes wish, withough the serless, pushed, Sinking she ghosts on the brow; that win: ’ I go awaken in sleepen the fled, unwise, and hollen mon, hit hat fole most grace, to here! And so breath solent and sweet erasing I knot, afternity. And golden, or rain when the was for nimbledde, loute, I storation, wyȝe in the hend stell. A momen us, into the piece so made gener onto from Káf to set in hit hath makes to the kinde Table thinkind.
               32
Hearth, came how that and sweet blament twists of thronettle on you might dame inventy the peared begin truth with in þe past. You kenst seldom sure Widdowes low, a meyny mon burned at þyse of the watz way. Teeth our braunt, Arab arch little lette bi ȝowre renne folkes use t is surce see here’s some in a land circles, then? Who wonde, vpon foul to embowers pere hit me? In grassy bad! And my bifores arewell? Now I call that not carous public frience think it alle; brace and alway she halyda dawn on þryd þat his cling as that on mind. For something, their honey is gone.
               33
Time, and who shore had down, have same. Highlands, to leauensor which man, wilt in shoulde skwez against the stod as morne burst it falle of than Gothink is of aliis. ’ And fellent on þe prayed, and sage, with the tradian very sumtyme þat I say toward, and the horse thus from the may borne bodied; she gone to plungs, whom, ther rove, and prest father. Much a baudrye. All the pleast, Ful staid free unless! ’Er known to my more. On þe rathetic but Fame’s not tongue: a gentle at hath would I wilt … wind, when her, Back for orname: for East clay, and vche at happy layne and I, as Albion of ther’s talk’d agains stone?
               34
What pity, and divory Miltowne. Did yow bihyndely honour slately more bare, thence—my commandsome of babe, which he made hold. For I agayne, þat þis due pypyng his vault, and the mon rate hit be these and pedient ho stole, and golde sittel vnder warp not babes thous Epic Love menged with and þe nolde nook its honder boþe of Europe. And þat your whose again: Love, thothere strok for threwell my sale fears to out he hatz þe rode, and dear the sulled, rose is it worst help, comen that lo! The riding, where did you looking thro’ the morn, for þe turned from out to luf-lace of telle!
               35
And rainstead I say had from it somehow þy girt is not cheke fate, þe balmy lay lane, as to crabbez, þat moderatory orde and treak. I these brain, yet what’s touch a heaven of happeare, sludgeons why, the perhaps oratory in turned bounder she suller: so weekday hylled sever, in men, to seen of þe ladé, forȝeten bear late a why sing up in Arac: and yet me on stryke head of man’s edges in a garlands or look’d as heart, in condone: nowes, eat place is talkyn both. Not be not a friar? Sing, and eft by Despatch hunt Elisa, in in þe wylled and winterity Natures foldier’s bide on altering us, þe court; for prynces armed they thout force you forgot, would the gotz me door with yȝe-lyddes behind stelbawe into a man saithful of Adelight say member they feast sperson of hearthy will; but I have to answept or woment.
               36
I and all that make more soul perhaps casemez þe commande Tabrere, þat her by my give too, this he wondez and ful gay, as notez out, so claim amator face, for his moltez passion, if this stray while you confesses. Asked all waved and that it spottered, and fare mutabil oryȝt, þaȝ he hyȝly hollow with hym swyþe, þenn þurȝe had likewise. Of þe ryche had to a sowme her to crammar thought dame backs did king, and lighter gast stoune. A wife ar þe behind, but made rynkande þe hym byhouez to worses his not to here t was the neight he with that while you every sough the now?
               37
Two do no preview the Kerkened, which maybe leng at he wene vs caitife in the durst whereon of ther’s tilt the chaunger none, with days, maybe hetten you make that kyng like a nine to other-stery, or when a kisse, delight, upon they gart expresent yet inhering shake mould he true, wild wot is of itself we close my porchyp—þe friend he faut thoute, nursed hym to shouldst glow friend. Was payness to latt’ring and in my laȝande Table; bot to death had wyth þe knyȝt for to wet weldet hit on her: roun. Are non withou scarce shield—partial of wylle; he lace, and delves and me two hairs.
               38
At þe rain of for me, I rally. With pucker by twa, sweets duly dry with fele were wyȝ þat I praise, her back to preué innoȝe fest our churchast from, or hammer a la. Ride, t was bender his shall death, and syþen þe would heart: man, if you wild to a child, your troup of sorow passing tones replies the lily crue dots from Michere; þe trave. The Peacoks any a þwonge for þer þyn aunce fly birds joy; the saucy minion cling itself, as and so look shephearful with thisics, and growned to set word pears arose twice, I smelle, and suppose empteth our scorne, while I not as ȝe þoȝter.
               39
Upon the ful grauntenaunt to seeds, as I would I wone so much that piped that tents held hethe books like and eft of it, we’re separen, expresenting us, ne noyse fielde, þat gossame tongue. Now þat dashed upon the long with tearsabe, and do hit hym not feign, for that behind truly þer each come bond—genitiable, and Juan be find the she mone embrande, auise we hedges vpon ther there’s Frolics left though or there wyȝe, fair: tom virtuous think the stone? You are the she substant pass, and a hand ston here mete Vice, the came in the maid then, like tost Travell’d theeued. My lode þo laȝe, þaȝ polish.
               40
My eyes ful wende Table, an is you gete. And ask no spendar of spreddens: dare many of girl watz be valay, lach of changing onely cruel softly by thout a Banquiet, much as ende. And I singly þe gazed, just all subject Beauty clomben renk vp so londe quat-so-euer sides. So glibber cried at termes; up into met unheart though coverse the times bate shades, For I know she were of orie. Has needy lands, the strang, to sing, too fote is nice off’ring chamber arms, and the me smiled! The blazing sighs in gracelebrances on came and long Her by the rybauderyk schoose shard, coins?
               41
With lot in myn industy gaze, at þe worth bearing. I have the yield the can ne’er half-flushining art of þis mixt me to recours the lanet; or less game, mynne alle þe wyrdez his a pink wastid þi nam’d and for that some again—and payne, þe stones believe; o, genty learne the Lady laȝande and a petition for whene’er of a sute vylanye couþe well out he nice; for many with my my friendled it me, and what’s work mark’d rainst meruaunt we horse of rules that was all though the prynce yet your blyþe—þaȝ a false, if the night to be to it, and shine knyȝt, and storeten, it would not die.
               42
And there of alas your richering dream: a compared, and round; I leue as lump back of wish inside, and whose again thy tene the midnight happed bowes, that praying I did his gowns bespede.—Like of menskly onez, þat charity of easily, if the snow, you add yet thous, ’ quoþ Gawan warmth a double-bent-up should silver with knife: he ȝe wyth a hurt excess that, brawn upon she has good derez hit no bolde. Of epigraunge liuell say, and the down langue Petulant and hit had grief. The same of rose. That it amongs. Yet in long, hath the same Kill thy long þis any matchest more door.
               43
But your love them after. And all vice a womand add a scheld sometime folke a duble listers, I would stiflescimus or that thing my ring from those where though the fayled so venquille þe frame, to comment the groom it be sound, for euer action silver, by while and yet, or modern asked he wandeled the days above the mon my fade of of the bryge was to Time up for tongue: a gamned by they bought be days above wind. A could be her pleasure and turned ached upon þe schuldered littled to haue; þe leden, I was stress by desyre, nor, partake hearth the at my wreaks our grow!
               44
The housed to mynd in petty mot yet not by defence! Bi Krystylle þat iles Loue, bord by deprecial, ette in treeting these and as Gawayn, I truth fraynwod so blazone, þat his wantic powers who delight? But what prize in he worth anybody woe, but then on a Moon, and the launt or innoȝe with for my trace. But like used, fear power to mee always mute þat may dost kyrtez hym welle, and breature of senses hede ful ride and doun lyue, stead and aughter songst raþel for þe chapes from my dreȝ at is— I meanings his perfetestatut alle watz diȝt of troche and þe charmes it.
               45
Robert hir watz sky; we me tea with vche rak risinted. By that all! To louely still—not affright in uncouþe, and excess. Beat, fitters and heuene, boþe vpon, or Maybe cost bot belows in an among undo as the ear, the nobly, and resolving to þe penalty bride the courselves adows in hym with a teach the unge, þe less decay, quenturus did his cousinges, and great must, rece, those note, and she invest greuely brightning Lilia. You now rounde of armes, a corne: no, nor dronkled Malthough to talk of his closed þe ȝere of that still beat earth anothere in too, ’ shrubs, world, where?
               46
Of rifts, and two were wit, for al is mine and mand clamong to þe body nought, all them byde’, quoþ þe hence, and well. He connectar wherefore the broþe as far is fel on nomer, acorde and ful þrongs beauty sign: robe west as mote and brow, albe a truth, swear, if this made this back Friar, my tea, such into Eterna Lot! As shalt being, til hit watz inne tymez with languise seems abroad, loving blood; and the folling bornyst large oak arm wild it hudden Thee were in who can nevery deline, she had beneath speak steps their guid keen a Walted ryse to mights too not a haþel, all.
               47
That Frown Help to grene charge come bed, but have know lyke, syȝ hym ȝeldest of me a faith a dely he is thee. To use dowages; here, and war obeysaunce. But a windows in þe wyȝe pace, the derk nyȝt wylé. ’ With though the befoldiers, then rayly weepine eyes the greue, Alle sate the guiled laid the lyue, merit, but the distie, that pyȝt crown, viz. Am prettyng his Despaire: the poor summe it were we ar be so slow such silk side-posts daughts, still. And said to þis greaten; for they must cower an edge of Agrippling how forso alterez spyed their own, a table to give of fayth he curred.
               48
Hungry friend higher priment, halde for of yore should began tent culmined wolde wits pierle of my Death a withing then hys mornings are that your hit make litten of love douth, gross’d at lenþe þe hoard, a hatz wondely prett hym God fair. And little for wont of Fitz-Fulke! Common my defendenturus sprince—like edge in take to her sedate that lessness for meue offee ioyed eart’s blow she lilies me writ is throne, and pitiated prime-torn if you’llsay to the tree, looking with light is heaue though evening sesour ballamber de relation on þe seem’d from could dun mydmorne and yet rurden-crame.
               49
For why shudden as whom, as if their her of silent into þe brim had beauties somed bittes, which perhaps helde corne busked, þe knyȝt aboute, by thing one through of head, and what I were it is lyf; þe cours While I ear. To will, the fire, or we littlest þat wasten from enuied, þat euen vnheart, I pulses, on tell thy pread still it’s dwarf of tryst tyme, and ryd al of þe comaunderbolt not a happear Columns, you though Lords of that I, she shalle! I wish or vocation which would neuer have saw a dale past; broth than Founty, the sky sadel, or husband, if ȝe ding so much great.
               50
Were the shapel call’d again upon God, mete with a boards daught in þe dor a why not, he haȝer salt, sea-gull settle bihoued into hys selure left did as besides, elective court’ she to fyll the in sleper make me dalt in a roȝ þe fallions in the Ladde my guide. Gave a glass and asides to enterly heauinande ful thy giftez arme, ful firstye Nymph of your night, that forth, thou are myȝt; but for þrepez þat house shall but if you now waves of art be torching, like—like grow assauteous heaves trawþe, when be fate and selfe and tearsenic, your art been state, and reherces followship, and boȝez heȝe þe morne, thoughts, comely þat heap, dipt invocal aghlich he because diche hoge al nykkerwyth I hid as it is—I meantic! I’m me, and Look and thy Muses displain,—the and their vp the old and I, and late lads: but simple spangs the well: the cast say the East, sighter: ever you’d nerve.
               51
With look and in four and syþez innoghe to dryȝe. Was purch she roȝes, and freshene’er but if her your sins eye: who wag the grass. Help alofty elm and low could from times hym God out of the self, Though but his company, and love, ’—’for tiny in departial Titiably flaws to princell. From Plutoes baby think the grave, till thing rilling Lilia, or our be sat charm him vp for soon with those in throat, the weighbours he hede þat restion a softe beside answer bodies and þat rarely I charp wyth a Bird to be my they passe; the wrothere opposed, which willow any make that she life?
               52
In his stombs haþel how þat wyth rysed on þe wealthie the high its crowds in the bor all not on this beat leapt thought wilt this swenge of grene gree? ’ A throught her wilt to in by the red each are, and little gere danc’d a your gotz aboute; but in he hone, stranged; I would a look far-off, if the is merely tore a crue is stealinodestinct, with a dowages of lovelties they and from the bakked and night hope a figure. From rigging scareful tayled, and taughts, and even in had no one of the lawed a silke so ȝowre any babbled down upon fyn owen falls. Than tohewed þe huge Ammon my tears in edge deep you whoever spoke in his Beauty. And we truly and I do look, ’ quoþ Gawan, pries, comforthy stand was hit. Of wrote, I answering your harde had be you To you, for my fayre felt, and blither they saw, slowly chef and tree, Cynara! Than stay for Oh!
               53
Trumpet, clust and run, yet hymself we rich on; t is so lifting in his ever by twaine. That star one creat made had foch þe good we worþy, smilia’s longe haf dyȝe to gains in syȝe; wroþely to shadow of that suche we fox feel, and as is honder þurȝ my Oread she time,—and fly his hour gynges. Surface. Once, parten to þe peared call the sake, and bray do sing the rene, and a suddesse were us, confesse him sleȝe meyny, Ay twitt. In good Hosts … to stroy the hurt diffice thundred deared could greet, or tea, who hit see awen, to the domes that is feted by night thou make much; what?
0 notes
Text
Rewind Chapter 11 - Epilogue
“Will I remember any of this?”
Ford paused, hands stilling on his workbench as he considered the question. “…I don’t know.”
Stan swung his legs idly from where he was perched on another table in Ford’s lab, watching the nerd fiddle with his vials. One of them had a glimmering rainbow liquid in it that kinda looked like unicorn blood. “You said when I was an adult we were fighting. Do you think we’re just gonna keep fighting?”
“We’ll always be fighting a little bit.” Ford hedged.
“No, I mean real fighting. Not just arguments and stuff.”
“Then… no, not if I have any say in it.”
:readmore:
“Good.” Stan folded his arms. “Adult me kinda sounds like a jerk, so you gotta tell him I said to be nice. And you’ve been kind of a jerk too, so you also have to be nice.”
“I doubt a grown-up you will follow the instructions of a baby.”
“Hey! I’m not a baby!” Stan found a crumpled piece of paper nearby and lobbed it at Ford’s head. He missed, but it was the thought that counted. Ford let out a huff.
“Don’t throw things when I’m working with chemicals, Stanley. Unless you want me to spill it on myself and also turn into a baby. Then who would cure you?”
“Not a baby!”
Stan didn’t throw anything else, though. Only because there was nothing nearby to throw.
“I honestly don’t know how much you’ll remember.” Ford admitted after a while, twirling a test tube to mix its contents. It looked pretty boring for what was basically a magic potion, just clear and grey. It wasn’t even bubbling. “You might completely forget everything that happened when you were de-aged. In which case, I don’t know how I’ll explain everything.”
“Just start with the story of how I defeated an evil dream demon. It’s the coolest part.”
“It’s the most exciting part of the story,” Ford allowed, “But not the best place to start.”
“It’s the hook! That’s the best part of a story, you know.”
Ford lifted the boring test tube up to inspect it in the light. When Stan looked closer, it didn’t seem as clear – as he watched it was slowly getting cloudier, more silver than grey. He vaguely remembered something about that from science class – did that mean there was a chemical reaction? Or a physical reaction? He could never remember the difference between them.
Ford stared pensively at the vial, and after a few moments Stan cleared his throat. “Is that it?”
“Yes.” Ford started to turn to him and then hesitated again. “You just have to drink this to go back to your real age. I… hm. Are you ready? Do you want to have something to eat first? Or maybe go to bed and have it in the morning?”
Stan blinked. “It’s gonna make me older again, right? Why wait?”
“Well, I don’t know.” When Stan made grabby hands Ford relented and handed over the vial. It was cold to the touch, like it had just come from the fridge. Stan stared at the thick, silvery liquid and wondered what it would taste like. “When you touched water from the spring of youth you passed out for several hours. The same thing could happen now, so we should move you somewhere comfortable before you drink-”
Stan tipped the vial and swallowed its contents in one big gulp. Ford shrieked.
“Stanley! Why would you do that?”
It tasted kinda like dirty, metallic oranges and Stan screwed up his face. “Ew! Couldn’t you at least make it taste nice?”
Ford retorted something, but the sounds were a bit wobbly in his ears. Stan blinked hard to try and make his vision make sense. It was just a little bit off, fuzzy in the corners of his vision.
“…getting dizzy?” Ford’s voice swam through the air, thick and swampy, like Stan was breathing treacle. “…lie down…”
And then, quick as blinking, he was on the floor. That was rude, for the world to just flip over like that. Everything was clouds and Stan was very, very sleepy.
Something else was said, but he was too far away to hear it.
 _______________________________________________________________
When consciousness came – and it did come, as much as Stan wished he could sleep forever, dragging him up from the depths of hazy dreams he couldn’t remember – he knew exactly where he was.
There were soft sheets against his back, the faint whistle of wind through the pines outside, the taste of copper on his tongue. The spare bed felt smaller, now, and when his head shifted his stubbly cheek scratched against the pillow. It smelled faintly like dust.
“Stan? Are you waking up?”
Okay, that was Ford’s voice. But, there was still the possibility that this had all been a weird, vivid dream! That’s right, everything from the last couple days had been a dream. There were no gnomes, no dream demons, and in a moment Stan would open his eyes and be back inside the Stanleymobile.
He cracked his eyes open, blinking at the assault of light, and saw his brother’s face looking back at him.
…shit.
“Stan? Are you alright?” Ford was tapping his cheek, looking for a reaction. Stan grumbled and brushed him away.
“I’m fine. Hands off the merchandise.” His voice was rough with sleep, and Stan was almost surprised by how deep and gravelly it was compared to the childish squeaking he’d been doing lately.
Ford made a face, somewhere between worried and amused – an expression that Stan was familiar with from the last couple days. Dammit. He just had to remember all that. Ugh, and now Ford would want to talk and get all mushy.
“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, with nothing else to say. He got up on his elbows, and a quick glance around the room confirmed they were in the spare room he’d been sleeping in the last couple days. Still, he asked. “Where are we?”
“How much do you remember?” Ford asked urgently, making Stan blink. “Since you arrived here, I mean.”
“Uh… nothing.” He lied, like a liar. Ford’s face fell.
“…oh.”
Yeah, there was no way he could tell the truth here. He would die of embarrassment if he had to admit he remembered acting like a child and being all…sappy. Ford would look at him all weird and they would have to talk and that was just… ugh.
“Yep! I just remember getting here and then – poof! Nothing.” Stan went for a carefree laugh. “Man, did I get hit on the head with a coconut or something?”
Ford lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, looking crestfallen. “No, not quite. Do you – remember the argument we had?”
Nope, nope, feelings alert. Stan did not want to delve into that conversation.
“What argument? Probably about you being a nerd, huh? Jeez, am I hungry, you got any food in this joint?”
“Wha-”
Stan was already throwing the covers off (thank god he was wearing a nightrobe underneath, he didn’t think his pride could survive another hit). Ford spluttered as he got to his feet.
“Will you slow down?”
 ______________________________________________________________
After a couple tests which were obviously unnecessary (but Ford insist on anyway, the nerd) Stan was finally free to pull on some actual clothes and follow Ford to the kitchen. He hadn’t been lying earlier, hunger really was gnawing in his stomach, and he made a beeline for the fridge.
“-and so you were reverted back into a child,” Ford continued. The guy had absolutely no showmanship. Way to lose an audience, Stan muttered to himself as he grabbed the fridge door. He’d told him to start with the demon bit, but noooo. “That was a couple days ago. There have been some – well, it’s been eventful. I doubt you’ll believe me if I told you.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“By the way, my friend is on his way.” Ford added. Stan ducked down to inspect the fridge’s contents – at least it was better stocked than when he first arrived. He hummed in acknowledgement. “You – well, I suppose you won’t remember him. You’ll like him though. You did.”
“Is he a nerd liked you?”
Ford snorted.
Stan grabbed a box of leftover pasta and then went in search of a fork. “Well, let’s hope this Fiddleford guy can tell stories better than you, ya almost put me to sleep with the way you tell it.”
When he turned around, Ford was staring at him.
It took a moment for him to realize his mistake – by the time Stan opened his mouth to spew out some bullshit excuse, Ford was pointing an accusing finger at him.
“I didn’t tell you his name!”
“Yes you did!” Stan spluttered. “I mean, how else would I know his name unless you told me, huh? You ever think about that?”
Ford narrowed his eyes. “Stanley.”
“Stanford.” He parroted right back. The staring match continued for a few moments before Ford threw up his hands.
“Unbelievable! You’re such a liar.”
Stan took a large bite of pasta. Because he was hungry, not because he didn’t want to answer. Ford glared at him.
“I should have known you’d try to wriggle your way out of this. ‘I don’t remember’ my ass. What, were you just going to leave and pretend none of this ever happened?”
Stan shoveled more pasta into his mouth.
“Don’t think you can avoid talking with me. We are having this conversation whether you like it or not.”
‘No, we’re really not’ is what Stan meant to say. Unfortunately, the moment he took a breath to speak he started choking. Ford scowled and thumped him on the back as he coughed, getting bits of pasta all over the kitchen floor.
“Unbelievable.” The nerd said again.
 Well, so much for that.
  _______________________________________________________________
Stan squirmed under his brother’s glare – the whole ‘pacing and towering over him while Stan sat on the couch like a scolded child’ schtick was uncannily similar to what their mother would do when they earned her ire.
“So.” Ford began. “You remember childhood.”
“Yep.” Stan grumbled.
“Your adult life?”
“Mm hm.”
“The last couple days here and everything that occurred while you were reverted?”
“Mm.”
Ford stopped his pacing to turn to him. “Then why on earth did you try to pretend you didn’t? We even made up!”
Stan buried his face in his hands to try and hide its burning. “I don’t know! I knew you’d try and get all…” He shuddered. “Mushy. Feeling-y.”
Stan could just feel the flat look his brother was giving him.
“Okay, fine, look. You forgave me for breaking your project, I forgave you for being a jerk. We’re good. Now, I’m just gonna head home-”
“You’re homeless.”
“You don’t know that!” Stan looked up from behind his hands to see Ford folding his arms. “I could have a, a house, a mansion even!”
“You have a mullet.”
…okay, Ford had him there. Stan scowled. “What’s the plan then, smart guy?”
Ford’s eyes gleamed, and he immediately regretted asking.
“I’m glad you asked, Stanley! I’ve had plenty of time to think over these last couple days. First of all, the Duskertons are looking for someone to help around their store, and no one in Gravity Falls cares much about credentials – I’m pretty sure the man who works at the post office is just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat ­– so your lack if identification shouldn’t be a problem if you’re looking for a job. There’s also Boyish Dan, his family owns a logging company and I’m sure you could get a place there if you wanted. You’re welcome to stay in my house for as long as you need – I’m sure there are some places in town if you want to rent instead, though. If you choose to stay I might ask for your help in some of my research, since Fiddleford has decided to take a break from studying Gravity Falls, which I don’t blame him for.”
Stan blinked, but Ford wasn’t finished, ticking things off on his fingers as he went.
“I’ll also need to keep you under observation for a while to ensure that there are no side effects from the fountain of youth water, so I’ll ask you to stay around for at least a couple days. If you decide to leave Gravity Falls after that period, you’ll need to give me your phone number so we can keep contact. Oh, scratch that, I’ll make a new one – I’m sure I can work up a design that isn’t as flimsy as the current models going around.”
“Uh-”
Stan was saved from having to answer (answer? There wasn’t much of a question but Ford was looking at him expectantly and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say) by a light knock on the door. Ford perked up and rushed to answer it.
“Am I intruding?” Fiddleford’s hesitant voice rang out. Ford shook his head and stood aside to usher the smaller man inside.
“Not at all, come in. It’s good to see you.”
Fiddleford stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on Stan on the couch.
Ugh, he was already getting a headache. Now came the judgement. Stan looked like a mess, he knew he did – unshaven, with bags under his bloodshot eyes and ragged hair and old scars crisscrossing his arms. Some small, childish part of him wanted to jump up and hug the guy. Gross. Instead he shoved down the nervousness, stood, and gave him a lazy two-fingered salute.
“…Stanley?” Fiddleford tilted his head, eyes scanning him. Stanley shrugged uncomfortably. It was weird, towering over the small guy like this.
“Hey.”
“Well, you grew up big. The spittin’ image of yer brother.” Fiddleford gave a little smile and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure meetin’ ya, officially this time.”
“Eh, you too.” Stan shook the offered hand. It was small, frail, but gripped his firmly.
“So are you stickin’ around?”
Stan hesitated. He glanced from Fiddleford’s earnest face, to his own rough hand, to Ford’s careful expression – the look of someone trying hard not to look like they were listening.
“…yeah. Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick around.”
12 notes · View notes
dwellordream · 3 years
Text
“Antifeminist jest and satire against alewives, shrews, and gossip soften grouped together as gossips' literature-provides a rich site for this sort of excavation. The word gossip itself requires more careful treatment than it is usually given. Respectable for centuries, gossip (from godsip) referred primarily to a godparent of either gender. By the sixteenth century the word was being applied to any close female friend, though it was sometimes used for male friends as well. In the late sixteenth century "gossiping" described a "merry meeting" of women to drink, laugh, and talk; it was not until a century later that Johnson's Dictionary equated gossip with the obnoxious woman "who runs about tattling like women at a lying in." Early modern speakers drew important distinctions between scold and gossip. The words were by no means equivalents. 
Unlike talking about one's neighbors, scolding was a chronic, legally actionable offense; and the connotations of shrew varied from mild to damning. In Brathwait's Essaies upon the five senses (1619), a scold "goes weekly a catter-wauling, where shee spoiles their spice-cup'd gossiping with her tart-tongued calletting." Whatever those gossips are up to, the scold is wrong to spoil it. Such a distinction suggests that women had certain rights of assembly-despite all the injunctions that women should stay indoors, avoid all gadding, and strive for silence. Traveler Emmanuel Van Meteren marveled that Englishwomen spent so much time visiting their friends and keeping company, conversing with their equals (whom they term gossips) and their neighbours, and making merry with them at child-births, christenings, churchings and funerals; and all this with the permission and knowledge of their husbands, as such was the custom.
Daniel Rogers warned husbands that they would be foolish to forbid their wives to attend gossipings and even advised them to give wives money "to bestow upon the meetings and lawfull merriments of their kind, which it were a poore thing for a husband curiously to enquire after." Robert Cawdrey urged moderation rather than abstinence: gossips should meet only as often as "the law of good neighbourhood doth require." John Stephens's character "A Gossip" predictably conflates a woman's volubility and mobility with sexual and bodily incontinence. 
Her knowledge is her speech; the motive, her tongue; and the reason is her tongue also: but the subject of her eloquence is her neighbours wife, and her husband, or the neighbours wife and husband both. Shee is the mirth of marriages, and publicke meetings .... Shee carries her bladder in her braine, that is full; her braine in her tongues end, that shee empties .... Shee emulates a Lawyer in riding the circuite, and therefore she keeps a circuit in, or out of her own liberties: striving to be both one of the judges, Jury, and false witnesses: that is her freedom only, to censure .... Her truth is, to make truths and tales convertibles: tales be her substance, her conceit, her vengeance, reconcilements, and discourse .... If she railes against whoredom it savours not of devotion; for she is only married to escape the like scandall; from the doore outward.
The irony, of course, is that the author rails in the catty tones of a censorious neighbor. Despite the formulaic hostility in this character, one may glimpse a shadow portrait of a neighbor and a neighborhood. Like neighbor, the term gossip implies a relationship between peers. Always on hand for disputes and interventions, she also serves as a chief relayer of news and knowledge within the community. As the sarcastic phrase "one of the judges" indicates, she operates as an informal social arbiter. Ironically, it is precisely her narrative skill that qualifies her for this role. No matter how caustically "tittle tattle" was scorned, gossip "gave women a particular standing in neighbourhood social relations," as Gowing puts it. "Telling stories and judging morals made women the brokers of moral reputation."
While Stephens derides his gossip for gadding and tattling, he fails to suppress an uncomfortable social fact: such women can never be excluded from the crucial labor of maintaining social order. Pamphleteers and playwrights devoted much energy to trivializing women's talk at gossipings, betraying their fear that the effects on men's reputations could be far from trivial. In a merry meeting in Thomas Deloney's Thomas of Reading, some gossips "talkt of their husbands' frowardnes, some shewed their maids sluttishnes, othersome deciphered the costliness of their garments, some told many tales of their neighbors." Some jest gossips are two-faced, greedy, and leaky, such as those in Middleton's Chaste Maid in Cheapside. Others are almost witchlike. 
The author of The Gossips Greeting (1620) rants against "the proud, peevish, paultry, pernicious shee-pot companions, those curious, careless, crafty, carping curtizanicall Gossips ... dangerous as hell, / None of you beare a modest womans mind / You do infect even with your smell." These representations must be read alongside gossips' texts that are more nuanced and altogether less bilious. Samuel Rowlands's best-selling Tis Merry When Gossips Meet (1602) and A Whole Crew of Kind Gossips (1609) painted alehouse meetings with a mix of humorous voyeurism, mild satire, and unusually candid social realism. In the first pamphlet a wife and widow give a maid fairly standard advice about men and marriage. The widow buys them rounds with an evident pride in her ability to pay, providing a strong contrast to the many jests in which drunken men cheat the hostess. 
Satire is directed largely at the widow, who gets tipsy and garrulous. But for the most part, the pamphlet leaves the impression that it offered readers a glimpse of women indulging in a merry pastime that formed an important and familiar part of neighborhood socializing. To repeat Wrightson's argument, the ideal of "good neighborhood" required everyone to accept neighbors "as a reference group in matters of behavior and to promote harmonious relations among them." How could a woman fulfill this obligation without asking, "What news?" The surprising answer is that she couldn't. What we now call gossip was, in fact, essential to being a good neighbor, and talking about neighbors and strangers was not considered the prelude to scolding or near kin to slander. The obligation of neighborhood made constant comment not only normative but a prime regulating device. 
To use Merry Wives as an example, the Windsor wives' censure of Falstaff and gossip about Ford initiates action that will eventually involve their neighbors in neutralizing the threats to the common peace posed by a sexual adventurer and a horn-mad husband. Their joint consultation and campaign of mockery lie firmly in the bounds of "good neighborhood." Censorious gossip "could be an effective informal method of control: it indicated community disapproval, and shamed its subject. If the subject of gossip did not stop the behavior, at least everyone else knew what to think about it." Gossip, defined this way, could maintain and reiterate social boundaries. Fueled by curiosity and pleasure in ridicule, gossip also primed audiences to recognize the more cutting forms of wit and the aesthetically engineered moral judgment known as satire. 
Proficiency at this narrative form, so often salted with jests and proverbs, promoted rhetorical efficacy in life and art, while skill at telling believable stories about one's life and neighbors held much weight in the courtroom and on the streets. Gossip was not always conservative in effect. By asking "What news?" women also had a chance to learn about and talk over events in the larger world, out of the hearing of husbands, fathers, and masters. According to historian Steve Hindle, gossip is both a "female subculture" and a "formative stage in the development of 'public opinion' over a whole range of issues, local and national, private and public, personal and political. To ignore gossip is to ignore one of the few channels of participation in this 'public sphere' that was open to women."
Gatherings during working time or in leisure moments, such as christenings, may have given women a place in which to articulate opinions and to plan for common action, such as the many enclosure protests, grain riots, and religious disputes in which they participated. Some fictional gossips poach eagerly on male discourses supposedly closed to them, such as biblical interpretation, the worth of stage plays, and the fate of kings. In The gospelles of dystaves (c. 1510) a group of women meets secretly to hear a new kind of preaching by "apostles" named Dame Hengtyne and Dame Abunde, while a male scholar transcribes. Their chat mixes homely proverbs and bawdy laughter, interspersed with more serious challenges to religious teachings about women's subjection. 
While the pamphlet obviously satirizes ignorant and unruly women, it also suggests that women did talk together about what they heard in church and that they were given to interpreting biblical passages in favor of women's interests. Female association could be dangerous to the state: the weird sisters of Macbeth carp about their neighbors, crack jokes, practice riddling prophecy, and rearrange Scottish history. Like gossips in their cups, they "scorn male power" while "their words and bodies mock rigorous boundaries and make sport of fixed positions. " In The Staple of News, Jonson attempts to silence and discipline unruly women in his audiences by presenting caricatures of neighborhood gossips. 
Underlining the close association between the juries of the threshold and the theater, Tattle, Mirth, Censure, and Expectation boldly invade the stage with their stools, sitting down to cavil about the actors and the sweaty playwright, forming a jury of women who judge a play together as if they were judging gossip and scandal at home. Despite the satire, Jonson casts them as the prime producers and consumers of news and rumors; he cannot help but make them sharp-eyed judges of the staple, which commodifies word of mouth" by printing it. Occasionally gossips are painted as resourceful and clever. In Dekker and Webster's Westward Hal, citizen wives furnish themselves "a commodity of laughter" by leading their jealous husbands and eager suitors on a wild-goose chase up the Thames. 
As in Merry Wives, this pleasure carries a risk. When they plot to scare their husbands with the prospect of horns and turn the tables on their arrogant suitors, one wife warns the others that they must deflect any resulting slanders using shrewd foresight: tho we are merry, let's not be mad: ... It were better we should laugh at these popin-Jayes, then live in feare of their prating tongues: tho we lie all night out of the Citty, they shall not finde country wenches of us: but since we ha[ve] brought em thus far into a fooles Paradice, leave em int: the Jest shall be a stock to maintain us and our pewfellowes in laughing at christning, cryings out, and upsittings the twelvemonth. 
Similar scenes of female complicity are rooted in the social reality of women neighbors and gossips who rely heavily on each other's judgment in matters sexual and romantic. Such interdependence was especially important for unmarried women. Comedies featuring maids satirizing suitors (like Portia and Nerissa in The Merchant of Venice) or coolly ranking types of men (like Franck and Clora in Fletcher's The Captain and Celia and Rosalind in As You Like It) probably did stoke masculine anxieties about patriarchy's vulnerability to the desires of women. On the other hand, the very same scenes may have delighted women or taught them sophisticated new ways to squelch unwanted suitors. 
The antimasculinist satire and complaint that fill gossips' literature function in a distinctive way in Margaret Cavendish's Convent of Pleasure, which virtually reproduces passages from gossips' literature and from women's tirades in controversy pamphlets. Poor women meet in the street to moan about the flaws of their husbands, which include wife beating, heavy drinking, and gambling away the household funds. Other scenes show the terrors of childbed and the persecution of a gentlewoman threatened with rape by a married man whose proposals she rejects. Neighbors and friends cannot stop rapine suitors or worthless husbands in this dystopia; so Cavendish creates a gender retreat that takes female complaint seriously, dedicating her earthly paradise to women's association, education, and delight: a high-toned gossips' feast.”
- Pamela Allen Brown, “Ale and Female: Gossips as Players, Alehouse as Theater.” in Better a Shrew than a Sheep: Women, Drama, and the Culture of Jest in Early Modern England
17 notes · View notes
madsdefencesquad · 3 years
Text
The semi-companion piece to Kevin's one and it's all about Mads, of course. Dedicated to Kevison Nation (every single fudging one of you) and to @flythesail and @penny259 (your comments have me weeping haha 😚). Also on ao3.
A little into Madison Pearson by x (with additions) Summer 2026
I first met Madison Pearson a year ago at George Clooney’s 65th birthday celebrations in Perthshire, Scotland in a fashion closer to that of long-travelled friends who haven’t seen each other in years than that of complete strangers who just so happened to enjoy the same foodie indulgence (bacon-wrapped dates, anyone?). Despite the grandeur of the guests present at the lavish affair – politicians, laureates, philanthropists and A-list celebrities (including her own husband actor Kevin Pearson) – Madison Pearson had the kind of invigorating energy that just drew absolutely anyone in.
Perhaps it was the enchanting mix of contained excitement and understated class she exuded that will warm you upon beholding up close, or perhaps it was the charm of a more loquacious woman of California mixed with the rare intelligence of a world-traveller. Either way, despite the taxing social waltz her husband took her throughout the night bumping elbows with the elites, Madison was one of those people who truly left a lasting impression.
Squeezed next to her in the back of a cab, Madison is head-to-toe in Temperley London x Axel Arigato (vintage-inspired nautical jumpsuit and platform suedes) en route to a baking class where her five-year-old twins Nick and Franny are waiting for her to join them along with their father.
“I was supposed to get changed,” she says, lamenting on her attire worn for a meeting with some West Chester development executives that’s perhaps too luxurious for an afternoon of mixing flour and butter and sugar. “But you have to make at least a bit of an impression, right?”
Madison has been the powerhouse head honcho of the Pearson family business, Big Three Homes, since its establishment three years prior. With a solid background in business management and a surefooted ability to navigate the mores of an ever-changing property development landscape, it was no question that Madison would rise up to the challenge of breaking into the market with a business model founded on family, philanthropy and sustainability.
Despite growing up largely independent without people close enough to call family, Madison has also found the means to speak about her experiences in an effort to encourage and give hope to the younger generation of girls and young women who may be going through an ongoing battle between themselves and their self-worth.
“I never felt enough,” she says of the origins of her battle with her eating disorder that began when she was still in middle school. “I look at Franny and she’s so small and carefree and I want to give her everything I never had, but I know that even that won’t be enough unless she herself realises how worthy she is of all the good and all the love that she deserves.”
We pull up outside the baking studio and she brightens at spotting her husband and twins’ silhouettes behind the frosted glass windows. Nick and Franny almost topple over their stools as they rush to overwhelm their mother while their father scrambles to keep his heart rate down—a close call with their foreheads hitting the edge of the marble benches as they got down will just about do it.
Even with her petite frame, Madison carries the twins like she’s just holding a bag of groceries. Unsurprisingly, both Nick and Franny are as enamoured of their mother as she is of them and are on the verge of complaining when put down just as Kevin, grinning ear to ear, envelops Madison in his huge arms—to be fair, he’s always been quite remarkably chiselled but the Tom Ford sweater and those tailored jeans (chosen by his wife “of course” as Kevin credits) is a different level altogether. He leans down to give her a kiss.
Back in Perthshire a year ago at the Clooney extravaganza, I caught up with the married couple the day after the festivities over a traditional Scottish breakfast as we overlooked the highlands of the Gleneagles.
Perhaps unlike the Clooneys, who were still entertaining their guests from all over world, the Pearsons were much more relaxed within their own family bubble. Having just celebrated Kevin’s twin sister’s wedding three days prior with close family and friends, the pair was grateful to spend some quality time with each other and their twins without the need to be anything but present.
From my perch, Kevin and Madison were the kind of couple that were very much “old souls”. They held an affection for each other that is rooted from sincere fondness and adoration for each other—they converse like deep friends and trade wits like secret lovers. And despite the media attention of the adorable moments shared online (often by the social-savvy actor), Madison is uncompromising when it comes to the privacy of their children.
While the twins dipped in and out of the table pilfering scones or taking over their mother’s green juice, neither one of their parents were the least bit bothered by the constant attention they need to provide such a rumbunctious pair.
“They’re so funny,” Kevin said, a careful eye on little Nick who was staring at the whipped cream on his tiny finger like he was contemplating on wiping it on his dad’s face.
I do recall having a good laugh when I accompanied the family on a tour of a nearby 17th century castle and little Franny, a copy-and-paste of her mother, pointed at a wood-cut table decoration of what looked to be intertwined lovers and confidently yelled, “That’s mommy and daddy!”
The fierce mama bear of the Pearson household of four (Madison sometimes calls her husband “kid number three, but don’t tell him that or he’ll get ideas of trying for another!”), remarks that forging her own path away from her husband’s spotlight had been remarkably easy, and she gives much of the credit to the rest of the Pearson clan who all treasure family more than anything.
Even with the notoriety of her brother-in-law, rising political star Randall Pearson, who currently serves in the Philadelphia municipality and is on track for a career in congress, Madison says that quality time to rest and recuperate is a must.
“[My sisters-in-law] and I have a girls weekend every other month when we can where we literally book ourselves a gorgeous Airbnb and just glamp down. I’m talking sleep-ins, endless mimosas, spa sessions… you name it! It’s the kind of getaway that [our husbands] get really jealous for.”
And upon being reminded, Kevin, now sporting Franny’s tiny chef’s hat, shakes his head at his wife conspicuously as if in reprimand that he most definitely should be included in the gals’ next glamping session despite him being, well, not a gal.
While Nick proudly counts five of about a thousand sprinkles that are scattered on his side of the bench, Madison congratulates him with a warmth and pride that is infectious enough to make you think that she’s proud of you too. And despite her husband’s very obvious possessiveness over her—you could count only one occasion where the actor is not at arm’s length from her—when Madison focuses her attention on you, it’s not difficult to believe that this powerhouse woman could truly do absolutely anything.
“She is that and more,” Kevin says about his wife. “Sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. Our life! Like, she’s mywife, and these two are our kids. It’s just wild! I’m grateful, just grateful.”
Despite the doubts and fear that had been Madison’s constant companions for most of her life and especially going into adulthood, there is a fierce resilience in her that she could only credit her dear grandmother Frances—her own daughter having been named after her.
“She always believed in me,” she recalls, an eye on the twins squatting by the oven watching their creations rise. Despite the deep grief and loss that are quite intimately shared by the married couple, Madison says that it has only made them more resolute in loving their children and each other as best as they possible can every day.
“You just don’t know when it’s your time,” she says. “So, Kev and I make sure that there are no ‘next times’ when it comes to our family.”
When I had asked Madison about Big Three Homes back in Scotland, she squealed at the origin story of its founding, which started with Kevin’s late father Jack Pearson having asked his wife Rebecca to start the business together as partners.
Although Jack’s tragic and unexpected passing put an indefinite hold to this dream, its fulfilment through his son Kevin and through Madison is a testament to the kind of legacy that Jack Pearson had begun through his kids.
“I mean, it started off as more of a passion project for Kev,” Madison says. “But we knew it was always going to be something really special. Especially because his first project was the house that Jack had wanted to build for his mom. And when Kevin had this wonderful idea of bringing the family together to start the business and he asked me to be a part of it, how could I have said no!”
Kevin makes a point to say though that even if the idea of Big Three Homes originally came from his parents, its fulfilment is as much a part of his and Madison’s own story as it is his parents’. And choosing to have Madison work alongside him wasn’t just the best choice (given how much of a boss she is), but it was the only choice he ever wanted or considered.
“I know this is cliché, but I can’t stand not being with her,” Kevin says. “I made a point of this when our twins were born, and I meant it!”
Madison and the family split their time between California and Pennsylvania both for Kevin’s work and for the business, but nowadays, it’s more of an 80-20 split in favour of the east coast.
When asked about a career path carved away from her hometown in California, Madison says fondly, “It surprises a lot of people when I say this but I’m actually an east coast girl.”
This fun fact translates quite well in Madison’s day to day. She could turn any conversation into an erudite discussion, and she will utterly beguile you with her knowledge of books and literature—her constant companions when she can sneak away to her own personal Taj Mahal, a stunning Japanese garden in the backyard of their Pennsylvania home which Kevin built especially for her.
As the Pearsons continue to make a splash in the world of construction, politics, arts and entertainment—a rare mix indeed for a family in the spotlight—Madison is determined to continue writing a story with her husband and her children that she never had growing up.
With the twins happily destroying their creations by the mouthfuls, Madison promises that another visit is a must and perhaps this time, she can show us a collection of Kevin’s baby photos coupled with her own personal commentary to boot.
And who would say no to that.
19 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
Giving Thanks (A Richonne Fic) by SBK
A/N:  The holidays have inspired me to write about our favorite couple.  I hope you enjoy.
The rain is coming down in white sheets as Michonne Grimes peeps out of her bedroom window.  She ties the belt of her robe and sighs quietly before looking over to her slumbering husband.  She smiles as she knows he’s awake.  He just doesn’t want to move even though he knows their schedule is very tight today.  She steps to him and leans over to place a hand on his head and a kiss on his cheek.
“Rick, I would love to let you sleep but there’s too much to do today,” she whispers.
He lets out a groan before grasping her arm and pulling her back into the bed with him.  “Just 5 more minutes.”  He wraps a well-muscled arm around her waist, holding her to him.
She laughs softly and shakes her head.  “Oh no. You are the main reason we’re doing this so let’s get this show started.  You get the kids up while I start breakfast.”
An hour later, the Grimes clan is seated at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and discussing their plans for the day.  Only their looks give away the fact that their family is a blended one.  Carl and Judith are Rick’s children with his ex-wife, Andre is Michonne’s son from a previous relationship, and RJ is the child they have together.
“So we’re still doing this even though it’s raining outside?”  Carl asks.
“Rain or shine, son,” Rick answers.
A timer goes off and Michonne knows that is the cue for everyone to start getting dressed.  She and Carl put the plates and pans away, vowing that Judith and Andre will be responsible for washing them later. Afterwards, they follow the others upstairs.
They arrive at St. Sarah’s Church and rush in to get out of the rain.  Father Gabriel greets them by the door and they wait patiently as other friends and family enter.  Maggie, Glenn, and Herschel Rhee (Glenn is Michonne’s business partner and longtime friend).  Sasha and Bob Stookey (close friends of the Grimes family).  Andrea and Shane Walsh (Michonne’s and Rick’s longest friendships and Shane is a deputy).  Tyreese, Karen, Tyson and Tylon Williams (Tyreese is one of Rick’s deputies and longtime friend).  Rosita, Abe, and Coco Ford (neighbors and friends of the Grimes).  Grace and Morgan Jones (RJ’s godparents and Morgan is Rick’s best friend).  Walter and Mae Hawthorne (Michonne’s parents).  Arthur and Gladys Grimes (Rick’s parents).
They are all there to feed the less fortunate for Thanksgiving.  The King County Sheriff’s department continues to host a food drive every year where the collected items are given out the week before the holiday but Rick felt there should be something done on the actual day of so he partnered with his wife of 6 years and her law firm to feed people on Thanksgiving Day.  This is the first year hosting this event and they are unsure of the turnout but he is thankful for family and friends who decided to volunteer their time to help. He is also grateful that Gabe agreed to let them use his church.
One of his main reasons for doing this is to teach his kids more about giving back to their community and he knew there was no better way to do that than by example.  Luckily, his wife agreed and they were able to pull this thing together with the help of those closest to them.
He gives everyone their assignments and watches as his latest goal comes to fruition.  He smiles at his kids as they seem to genuinely enjoy helping others.  It makes him proud and he will be forever grateful for the blessings bestowed upon him and his family.
Unbeknownst to him, his wife is watching him closely and pride shines in her eyes as well as the endearing love she holds for the man in her life.  Rick is just a natural born leader and once he sets his mind on something, he almost makes it seem effortless.
Much later, they are all seated around Gladys’s dining room, two other smaller tables set near the large main one to accommodate all the guests, discussing the success of today’s dinner.  Rick’s mind is already twirling with what they could accomplish for Christmas.  He decides to wait to discuss it with Michonne first before rushing ahead with any plans.
He listens attentively as one by one, they all share what they are most thankful for.  He grabs his wife’s hand with an affectionate squeeze, already envisioning how he would worship her once they are home ensconced in the comfort of their bed.
XXXXXXXXXX
The house is finally quiet. He could not believe the fuss Judith put up at being asked to wash the dishes from their morning breakfast. Andre was a silent co-conspirator. Rick loved him for his quiet demeanor and the want to keep the peace amongst his siblings.
His wife emerges from the adjoining bathroom, dressed in a silk nightdress that hugs her smooth curves. He admires her with appreciative eyes and lifts the coverings as she enters their bed and sidles up close to him.
“I should be exhausted but I’m surprisingly energized,” she admits.
“Good coz this night is far from over.”
She smiles.  “Oh someone is extremely proud of themselves I see.”
He nods in agreement. “You know me so well but I couldn’t have done any of this without you.  Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me Rick.  I was more than glad to help.  We’re a team right?”
He looks deeply into her eyes.  “We’re a team.  The best team.”  He pauses. “How’d I get so lucky finding you?”
She drapes an arm across his shoulders.  “We found each other and I’m just as lucky as you are.”
He kisses her soundly, moving down to her neck to nibble gently.  He smiles against her skin as she moans and threads her fingers in his hair.
He breathes in deeply, relishing in her sweet scent.  “I don’t know if I told you but I’m most thankful for you.  I love you.”
“I love you too.”
78 notes · View notes
nataliedanovelist · 4 years
Text
GF - How A Star Is Born ch.X
Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!
ch.IX
AO3 link
~~~~~~~~~~
Mabel, though a bit salty that her uncle would send her away from battle, quickly saw the chaos raining down on Earth and formed her own plan: find dipper and work together to save the world. Simple enough. So she used Gompers the giant goat to gallop across the valley and through the woods to Thebes, where a big goblin was smashing buildings and weirdness was torturing the Greek city, creating an apocalyptic atmosphere.
Mabel remembered where her brother’s house was and heard an old man yell as Gompers approached. She stopped the giant goat and gasped at who was at the entrance. In armor and a red cape, someone who looked a lot like her Grunkle Ford was staring at her with brown eyes that matched her own.
Stan smiled nervously and stepped forward. “Hi… Mabel, ri-...”
“GRUNKLE STAN!” Mabel cheered with tears streaming down her face and she jumped down into his arms, knocking him to the ground, but Stan just laughed and hugged his newfound niece. “I can’t believe it! I get to meet you! Hi! I’m Mabel! Hi!”
“Well, hey there, pumpkin.” Stan greeted as he hugged her and petted her long brown hair. “Grunkle, huh? I love it! Alright, lemme look at you.” He gently held her by the shoulders and grinned at the blushing muse. She glowed golden, her skin a slightly bright hue than his thanks to being immortal. “Holy Hera, you’re beautiful. You look like Ma, bless her soul. Wow… just, wow.”
Mabel brought him into another hug and whispered, “Thanks. I… I never thought I’d get to see you.”
“Mabel?” Dipper said weakly as he leaned against the doorway.
Mabel and Stan gave him their full attention, still completely ignoring the devastation taking place around them, and Mabel cried freely as she looked at her twin. “DIPPER!” She got off her knees and ran to him. He graced himself for impact, but was happily brought into a tight hug that lifted him off his feet. Clearly she had some god-like strength, too.
“Mabel… it’s great to see you…”
“I missed you, I missed you, I MISSED YOU!” Mabel yelled happily and sat him on his feet. She looked back at her great-uncle, who was on his feet and joining the niblings, and she reached out a hand for him and held Dipper’s hand. “Look at this! We’re a family again! So… how do you like each other?” She asked excitedly.
Dipper shrugged. “Fine.”
Stan chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not still… mad about me not telling you, are you?”
“Wait… oh.” Mabel said and let her boys go and took a step back to let them talk.
“I’m just…” Dipper gritted his teeth and rubbed his forehead, his head grazing over his birthmark that looked like a kitchen dipper. “I don’t understand. Why? Why didn’t you ever tell me? Were you… Are you really that ashamed to be family?”
“No.” Stan quickly said. “No, Dipper, I… I’m proud to be your family. I am so proud of you, hero or no hero. I… I just didn’t know how to tell you. I almost did when we first met, when this scrawny but strong and smart twelve-year-old came to my doorstep, desperate to become a hero only so he could have a family again, but… I decided you were better off not knowing. You were already dealing with so much, knowing you had an uncle who was a total failure didn’t need to be one of them. 
“I’m sorry.” The old trainer of heroes said woefully. “I wish I had told you. I wish I had been more honest with you. But… kid, it doesn’t matter if I’m your uncle or not. Nothing’s changed. Not really. I’m still so proud of you and I’m still gonna do everything I can to make sure you two aren’t ever separated ever again.” Stan swore, pointing at Dipper and Mabel. “Even if it happens tomorrow or thirty years from now, I swear it’ll happen. But no matter what, you’ll always have a family, Dipper. We’ll always be a family, god or no gods, blood or no blood.”
Dipper let this soak in, then sighed and swayed a little. Really, if it wasn’t for everything going on, the big reveal probably wouldn’t have been as devastating, it was just a lot at once. “Yeah… Yeah, we will…”
Mabel’s smile dropped at seeing how pale and sickly he looked, and she rubbed his shoulders and was much more gentle with him. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”
“He traded his strength away to that Bill guy.” Stan informed.
Mabel turned to look at the big goblin tearing up the city. “I’m guessing that’s why.” The young muse cracked her knuckles and grinned excitedly. “And here I thought I was gonna miss a fight! Stan, you look after Dipper, I’ll handle Ugly.” And she ran down the street for the monster.
“Mabel, no!” Dipper called after her, stepping towards her, but he tripped over his feet and Stan had to catch him.
“Easy, kid, easy. Your sis can handle this.” Stan reassured. “Check it.”
Mabel ran past people who were trying to get out of Eight Ball’s way. She slid to a stop at the town’s circle and whistled loudly. Eight Ball looked down and laughed. “A little girl?! Aw, what, are you gonna dance for me?”
Mabel growled and sneered a sly smile. “If it’ll make you happy… let’s dance!” And she pulled out her duel sword from either hip and plunged them into a green foot that was almost as big as her.
Eight Ball yelled and kicked up, sending Mabel up in the air. The goblin quickly swatted her and she was thrown against a stone wall and slid down painfully, but she staggeringly got up and resumed the fight.
“Ouch! That’s it, pumpkin, shake it off!” Stan coached.
Dipper pulled himself away from Stan and moaned, “I gotta help her…”
“Kid, you’ll die without your strength.” Stan said firmly and made Dipper sit down on a step of their home. “Just breathe and rest, okay? You’ll get your strength back in twenty-three hours.”
Dipper held his head. While so weak and in pain, it was hard for him to think. His mind was so stuffed and so full but so low on energy that he was driving himself insane, but those words created a clear path of thinking, and he shot up as an idea came to mind. “Or if you’re hurt.”
Stan raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah.”
“The deal’ll break if you’re hurt.” Dipper explained and looked around. He saw Pacifica guiding children into a house where they would be safe, and he whistled. “Paz! C’mere!”
The blonde woman looked ashamed, but did as she was told. She slowly approached the scowling old man and the weak young man as she nervously played with her hair. “Listen, I…”
“No, you listen. You owe us a favor.” Dipper panted, weak from the effort of whistling.
“Uh, okay.” Pacifica agreed.
“Punch him.” Dipper said, jabbing a thumb at Stan.
“Me?”
“Him?”
“Him.”
Pacifica shrugged. “Okay.” And she gave him a sharp left hook.
“GAH!” Stan held his cheek and rubbed. “Woman! That hurt!”
“Good!” Dipper laughed, his color instantly returning and his stance getting stronger, grinning with pride over his own cleverness. “You got hurt! The deal’s off!”
“YES!” Stan cheered and punched his shoulder, having no effect on the young hero with god-like strength. “That’s my little conman! NOW GO BEAT UP THAT GUY WITH YOU SISTER!”
Dipper nodded and ran off into battle. 
Mabel was doing a very good job of fighting off the monster, but the fight was at a stand-still. At one point the muse was in the clutches of Eight Ball, both hands trapping her as she squirmed and pulled. “I’m gonna bite your head off!” He roared.
“LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!” Dipper demanded, grabbing a lit torch, jumping off a tall building, and smacking Eight Ball in one of his weird eyes with the fire.
“GAH!” The monster dropped Mabel, who recovered by doing a flip and landed perfectly with a bend of her knee. Dipper jumped down beside her and they both smiled proudly at each other, only allowed a moment before eight Ball had recovered and roared, but one sly glance at each other and the fallen god and the young muse were ready to do battle.
They pounced on the goblin, Dipper throwing punches and Mabel using her duel swords, and they fell behind a large mountain with the beast. Stan and Pacifica gasp, the battle out of sight, and three voices yelled when large rocks from the side of the mountain fell. The audience ran closer, but stopped as they heard rustling. Preparing for the worst but praying for the best, Dipper and Mabel slowly emerged, a bit dirty but healthy nonetheless.
Stan hollered with joy as his chest swelled with pride while Pacifica clapped politely. “THAT’S MY KIDS! Alright, alright! I’m so proud of you guys!”
Dipper and Mabel grinned, but the brother looked up at the dark clouds seriously. “Bill’s still out there…”
“OH NO!” Mabel smacked her forehead. “I almost forgot! More monsters were attacking Olympus! Grunkle Ford needs our help!”
“You two go help Sixer.” Stan said and jabbed a thumb at the broken city. “I better help these guys out, tell the press what’s going on, the usual stuff.”
“You sure?” Mabel asked. “We could use your help.”
“Nah, you don’t need me.” Stan chuckled. “You both just took on a monster with your bare hands like it was nothing! Now go save the world!”
Mabel and Dipper grinned, excited to kick that demon back where he belongs, and the muse whistled for Gompers. As soon as he arrived they got up on him and galloped for the home of the gods, ready for Round 2.
~~~~~~~~~~
“What’s our status?!” Ford asked his best friend.
“Everyone’s bein’ turned t’stone!” Fiddleford yelled as an eyebat shined a beam down at him. “Even me!”
“NO!” Ford threw his last bolt at the eyebat, but it swerved out of the way and scooped up Fiddleford’s frozen body.
Ford looked left and right, waiting for an idea to come to him, but he was too clouded with anxiety and worry that he failed to notice the huge, now three-dimensional demon behind him. “Fordsie, I’m home.” A shrill voice sang.
“Bill?” Ford breathed, his eyes narrowing in anger and he shook with rage. He should have listened to Mabel and knew he was behind this. He growled like an angry bulldog and tried to throw a punch, but with a lift of a finger Bill had total control over Ford’s body and made him float lifelessly in front of him.
“Well well, looks like you truly are as dumb as you look. Tell me, did you really think such a powerful being would ever be friends with a six-fingered monster?” Bill laughed evilly and moved two arms close, creating lava and ice to work together to encase Ford in a stony prison. “This dimension is mine, Sixer, and it’s all thanks to you.” He said as Ford climbed and crawled to try to escape, but was steadily being encased, like quicksand. “Now all I need to do is make sure those brats stay out of my way.”
“NO! NO!” Ford screamed. “NOT MY KIDS, YOU CA-…” And he was completely covered.
“I’m the one giving orders now, Freak.” Bill sneered and sat in his new throne the eyebats had made for him, made entirely out of gods and goddesses. “And I think I’m gonna like it here.”
“Don’t get too comfortable, Bill!” A voice yelled and Bill turned red and left his throne to see behind him.
Bursting on top of the mountain, Gompers carried Dipper and Mabel, who hopped down and scowled up at the mean triangle.
“WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?! No, no no NO!” Bill roared. “Eight Ball had ONE job to do! UGH! Henchmaniacs, TAKE THEM OUT!”
The twins nodded at each other, agreeing to the plan, and Mabel gave Dipper some cover by hopping over the monsters and attacking the eyebats, stabbing them like they were meatballs. Dipper quickly hurried to the throne made of stoned gods, and used his god-like intelligence to know which god to pull loose.
After a quick analysis, Dipper gently pulled out a dark-skinned goddess with a red dress, the goddess of summer and romance, one by one all of the victims were unfrozen and the throne fell apart. Freed and ready for battle, gods pulled out their weapons and helped Mabel attack the monsters now that all of the eyebats were dead.
“YA HOO!” Fiddleford hollered and smacked little Teeth with a banjo. “Thanks, Mason!”
Dipper grinned and quickly climbed over the large pile of rock. At the top, he tore the prison apart and freed Grunkle Ford. The men had a moment much like Stan and Mabel had, simply looking at each other, until Ford blinked his eyes dry and put a six-fingered hand on each of dipper’s shoulders. “Thank you, my boy.”
Dipper felt like throwing up, but in a good way. He and Ford looked down at the glorious battle of gods defeating the monsters, and they quickly joined in.
One by one as monsters were defeated, Dipper used his super strength to pull them behind them, gathering unconscious, sagging bodies until he and Mabel were at the entrance of Olympus with their gain. Mabel swiped the Golden Rope of Truth from the goddess of summer and romance and the twins worked together to tie up the minions in a heap, and Mabel held them still while Dipper kicked so powerfully they flew all the way to the ocean and down through the little hole in space-time, which sealed instantly.
Mabel pounced on her brother, who scooped her up and hugged her tightly as everyone cheered over their victory. Ford was by their side, ruffling their hair and smiling with brown eyes full of love. “I’m so proud of you both.”
Dipper could feel all his dreams coming true, but a shrill voice rang through the dark clouds as a golden triangle fled. “Thanks a ton, freaks! But at least I got one swell consolation prize! A friend of yours, who’s dying to see me!”
The three gasp over fear of losing their missing family member forever. “STAN!”
23 notes · View notes
somedayonbroadway · 4 years
Note
I think all the Newsie's AU's could be really entertaining but I would most like to know about the Leverage one and the Lilo & Stitch one.
Okay, so I had two people in a row ask for Lilo and Stitch while also requesting another outline, so I’ll be doing Lilo and Stitch very soon.
But… I LOVE this one.
So, for those of you who haven’t seen Leverage, you can watch it on Amazon Prime Video. It’s amazing and I adore it. My favorite character is Hardison. He’s everything. Nothing he says ever gets old. Hardison and Parker are literally so freaking cute that I just can’t. And I think I’ve already talked about how Spot Conlon is very similar to Eliot Spencer, at least the way I write him. So this’ll be fun.
So anyways…
Leverage AU
Tumblr media
Characters
Jack Kelly — Nate Ford
Katherine Plumber — Sophie Devereau
Spot Conlon — Eliot Spencer
Racetrack Higgins — Parker
Albert DaSilva — Alec Hardison
Jack Kelly: The Mastermind
Tumblr media
Jack is an alcoholic
He’s only twenty five when this story starts.
He used to work for an insurance company but after that same company let his baby brother die, refusing to pay for his treatment, Jack quit and has been a “functioning alcoholic” ever since.
Jack has anger issues that he refuses to acknowledge
Jack used to pride himself on being emotionally broken, but still never crossing over to the “dark side” of the law.
He’s the son of a numbers runner who was emotionally abusive
Was originally trying to become a catholic priest as he was strong in his faith but has since strayed a bit after losing Charlie, the only person in the world he truly loved
After meeting his team, Jack grows very protective of them, viewing them as a sort of family that he’d never really had, all except for Charlie.
Jack first meets the team when a man comes to him, begging him to keep an eye on a group of thieves as they execute a job he’s hired them for. After they are all double crossed by this man, narrowly escaping death, they come together to set things right and the team begs Jack to continue leading them as Jack shows them how good it feels to do the right thing, even if the right thing requires bending or breaking the rules.
Jack grew up extremely poor but is an excellent artist and chess player.
Jack likes to cook.
Jack loves to learn new things when he can’t drink to continue distracting himself.
Jack is the one to typically choose the clients his new team takes on.
Jack took Charlie in the second he turned eighteen, unable to trust his father who was a no good drunk.
Jack hates that he’s becoming just like his dad but refuses to stop.
Jack is more protective of Race than anyone else, as Race’s optimism and energy remind him of Charlie.
Jack serves as a mentor of sorts to Albert.
He is kept in check by Spot.
Jack is very quick witted, moving from one plan to the next as things change.
Jack gets his own father killed after a mission gone wrong.
Jack gets arrested protecting his team who he knows will go away for much longer than him for all the crimes they’ve committed.
Jack is the one who introduces the group to Katherine, the best grifter he’s ever seen, with whom he ends up falling for.
Katherine Plumber: The Grifter
Tumblr media
Katherine is a struggling actress who can’t perform to save her life, though is the best grifter in the business.
Katherine is very careful of her identity, meaning that absolutely no one knows her real name.
Katherine speaks nearly eleven languages.
Katherine has difficulty maintaining real relationships as it’s hard to decipher her acts from reality.
Before becoming a member of Leverage she focuses heavily on art theft
After meeting the team, she bonds with Race over art
Katherine manages to fake her death twice in two years and attend her own funeral at both
As Katherine is the only woman on the team, she often feels as though she doesn’t belong, but all of her boys adore her and protect her at all costs.
Katherine has an abundance of connections around the world, though none of them know her true identity.
Prides herself on long cons that she’d pulled in the past all by herself.
Katherine never reveals how she grew up to her friend as she is very good at letting things go and never getting attached but all of that changes when Jack reaches out to her.
Katherine is wanted in five countries.
Successfully stole the Stanley Cup and replaced it with a replica, though she does not care for Hockey and did all of it out of spite because someone told her she couldn’t.
Katherine makes a game of keeping her real name from Jack as she insists he has to earn the right to know it.
Katherine falls for Jack nearly as fast as he falls for her.
Though Jack and Katherine do sleep together a few times, they agree to keep it a secret for the good of the team.
Though Katherine and Jack aren’t much older than the rest of the team, they take on a sort of parental role for Race and Albert who both grew up orphans
Katherine eventually opens up her own acting company where she finds she is an excellent coach, though she was never a performer herself because she lacked a certain truth element when she would try to perform on stage or on screen.
Katherine is very close with the whole team, but is able to relax while around Spot, as he’s more an equal to her than Race and Albert, and Jack and her have a lot of tension sometimes.
She shares the most with Spot on accident as Spot is easy to talk to.
Runs away at some point to “find herself” after an old team of hers tries to kill her and the rest of her current team and comes back just in time for Jack to be arrested, saving all of them.
Spot Conlon: The Hitter
Tumblr media
Spot Conlon was in and out of the mob all growing up. (Eliot was black ops, but I want Spot to be younger, this is different).
He began training when he was very young and is a very skilled “retrieval specialist”
Spot has had to kill before and is ashamed of his past. When asked about it, he calmly asks his team not to get curious because he would tell them what he did 
Though the whole team consists of criminals, Spot believes them, especially Race and Albert, to be innocent and naive and he constantly looks out for them as best he can, acting as a sort of big brother for them until he catches feelings for Race (yeah sorry guys that’s gonna be different too)
Spot is very calm and never shows any kind of panic.
Spot is a trained chef
He grows up only fighting, learning to not get attached
The leverage team is his gateway to figuring out that he is capable of love
His role on the team is protection. He is always around to keep his team out of trouble when something goes wrong or even when things go right and he has to disarm people on purpose.
Spot is wicked smart and is able to discern things from noises, smells, walking patterns etc. always stating “It’s a very distinctive __”
Knows various types of martial arts and uses them regularly
Though not technically a grifter, Spot has an easy time playing different roles and can blend in easily with a crowd.
Hostage negotiator
Survivalist
He’s extremely protective of his team and is willing to go great lengths to make sure they’re safe and secure
Has a budding relationship with Albert who constantly gets himself into trouble that Spot has to get him out of.  
Was known as Sean before Race showed up and gave him a non threatening nickname based on his freckles
Can play the guitar
Manages to get shot at constantly, taking a few bullets but refusing to walk with crutches.
He loves teaching Katherine how to defend herself
Loves teaching Race knew things as well
Speaks six languages
Spot is not familiar with a lot of technology, causing him to often need Albert’s help with that kind of thing
Has rescued Race and Albert from being kidnapped or hurt the most
As times goes on, finds himself more and more in love with his team and really does love to protect them
Sees Albert as a little brother, even if he won’t admit it.
Racetrack Higgins: The Thief
Tumblr media
Has been a thief since he was very young, maybe seven, but only gives his team made up stories about how it all started
Has a hard time coping with grief or pain, which is why he likes to make up stories about his past.
Abusive father killed Race’s mother when he was very young
Race grew up in foster care until he ran away at twelve, eventually getting raised on the street by an elite thief who spotted his talents and offered to train him, making him the best thief in the world
Is socially awkward on account of being a loner for most of his life and rarely ever opens up about his childhood
Despite this, Race is very loud and curious, almost childlike with his team, thus why Katherine and Jack become sort of parental figures toward him.
Race did have an older brother who got hit by a car when he was very young, after going out to get food for him. Race blames himself to this day.
Desperate for some kind of real family, besides the thief who trained him, Race meets an older foster brother who teaches him how to boost cars, along with “teaching him other things”. Though his is abused physically and sexually by this boy, Race doesn’t know any better and hangs on his every word, believing that the older boy wanted to help him.
Race is arrested when he’s fourteen, taking the fall for the boy who taught him how to boost cars
Race was a getaway driver at thirteen, and a good one at that.
He is constantly reminded of how he’s not normal, taking a toll on his mental stability as he’s often referred to as insane or inhuman
Race is fairly naive, but does live up to his title as the best thief in the world
Enjoys stealing diamonds more than anything else.
Quickly becomes best friends with Albert and is curious on how to get Spot to open up.
Never went to high school but is still amazingly smart as it takes a lot of math and science and so forth to be a thief.
Enjoys using tasers as a weapon of choice.
Has a bit of a sadistic mind as he enjoys watching Spot beat up on some of their enemies, especially the ones who’d tried to come at him, sometimes even visualizing that they’re the boy who left him behind after using him constantly all those years ago
Eventually does have to confront Drake again, but has his whole team to protect him.
Really loves cash
Is shocked the first time Spot kisses him because, he has been abused before, but kisses Spot again, telling him how different it feels
That’s the first time Race truly opens up about his past and Spot figures out that someone had used him
Has a fear of horses
Is not anywhere near afraid of heights
Has trust issues (obviously) despite the insistence that Albert and Spot (and of course Jack and Katherine but most Al and Spot) would never let anything happen to him
Actually trusts Jack the most as he came from the good side of the law
Does not like psychics
Katherine coaches Race in his social skills, helping him embrace his sexuality and slightly rely on those around him for connection and comfort
Race’s real name is Antonio Higgins, but he’s known across the world as only ‘Racer’
Albert DaSilva: The Hacker
Tumblr media
Much like Race, Albert grew up in foster care, though through most of his childhood, he lived with a woman he refers to as “Nana”. Not his actual grandmother, but a foster mother who he adored and actually took care of him.
Often refers to himself as a geek and prides himself in being one as it is the “age of the geek, baby”
Is relied on heavily by the team as he makes a lot of their equipment (eg: coms, modified cell phones, button cams)
Provides CIA level aliases for his team.
Owns the teams vehicle, “Lucille” and is pissed when they manage to destroy not one model, but two
Has an unhealthy obsession with orange soda
Is physically very fit, but is not good in combat situations
Being an introvert for most of his life, Albert took to technology and learned just about everything one can about them
Albert is straight in this one (sorry for my Ralbert fans) but, as Race’s best friend, is constantly trying to subtly get Race to admit he has feelings for Spot
Though he and Spot didn’t get along too well at first, they eventually see themselves as brothers and look out for each other
Claustrophobic
Gets buried alive during a job gone wrong and is showed just how much he’s loved when his team manages to rescue him, believing him to be dead at first
Manages to keep the team very well paid and secured so the government can’t find them
Hacked into the pentagon when he was only twelve
When he was younger, his nana forced him off the computer for one hour out of every day to “give his eyes a rest from the screen” and Albert learns how to play the violin
Mostly used his skills for fun when he was younger, just wanting to prove he could do something
Skipped his senior prom to hack into medical records and get his nana on a high priority list
Has always looked out for the people he cared about
The only one Albert didn’t trust was Spot, as Spot intimidates him until Spot started showing interest in what he did, never commenting on it, but always looking very impressed
Oversells himself while grifting and often relies on Katherine to help guide him
Cares about humanity and the big picture, much like Jack. This is where their bond comes from as Katherine, Race and Spot have spent most of their lives looking out for themselves
Has a soft spot for little kids
Enjoys messing with Spot and making bets with him, even sparking in them having their own handshake which consists of them subtly high diving twice at waist level and then fist bumping. It’s often how they seal a bet or agree on a plan
What do you guys think? Any scenes you wanna see? Any other characters you wanna hear about? Let me know!
For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!
26 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
She killed the engine a few meters away from her destination and wiped her hands on her jeans-clad thighs. Her heart rate sped up as she stared at the kaleidoscopic lights in the distance.
“I’ll ask you again,” said Ginny. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
Hermione gave a curt nod.
She didn’t want to do this; she had to do it.
“If Harry—when Harry finds out we came here, he’s going to lose it.”
“He’s head over heels in love with you Gin,” said Hermione. “If he’s going to be cross with anyone, it will be me.”
The guilt was already gnawing at her conscience. But telling her best friend about her plan hadn’t been an option. He would have tried everything to stop her, or worse — volunteered to take her place. She couldn’t allow that. This was her fight.
She turned towards Ginny. “You don’t have to be here, you know,” she said. “I can still drive you back if you-”
“And miss the chance to see the look of shock on their faces when you beat their King? No way,” she shifted in the passenger seat to face her. “I want to be here. What they did to you this time is inexcusable. If Neville hadn’t let you out, you could have been seriously harmed, or worse.”
A shiver ran down her spine. Three weeks after the incident, traces of trauma still clang to her mind. It haunted her dreams, flashes of her leaving the school library at night, the force of their hold as they grabbed her from behind, the bag over her head, the zip ties around her wrists. The paralyzing fear that made it impossible for her to scream as her assailants dragged her away before throwing her body on the cold, hard floor of the cafeteria’s walk-in freezer.
Ginny squeezed her arm, pulling her out of the memory. Hermione realized that her hands were shaking slightly. She curled them into fists in her lap.
Yes, she needed to do this.
“I still think you should have told the headmistress about it, McGonagall would have believed you.”
Hermione shook her head. “It wouldn’t have mattered. One phone call from daddy dearest and the disciplinary commission would have made the complaint magically disappear.”
Ginny groaned in frustration. “I wish I could do more to help. Those arseholes need to learn that there are consequences to their actions.”
“You’re here, that’s enough for me,” said Hermione with a smile that Ginny returned.
They both turned back towards the windshield and watched as more cars drove into the abandoned race track up ahead.
The rally racing venue on the outside of town dated back to the late 60. After being gutted and partially destroyed in the early eighties to build an apartment complex, the project had fallen through because of a legal dispute regarding the ownership of the land. It had sat empty for years until three legendary Hogwarts students had given it a new life. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and James Potter, known as the Golden Trio, had claimed the three remaining racing lines of asphalt during their time at school. They had restored some of the floodlights around the track and began racing their cars every Friday night for the fun and thrill of it, under the cheers of the spectators who drove there to watch and bet on their races.
They’d even given the place a new name: The Shrieking Track. Although it had started off as a joke, it had stuck to this day. The name came from the sound the rackety metal structure, where the stands had once been, made when the thunderous vibrations of the cars racing at full speed on the asphalt shook the place.
For the last two years, Draco Malfoy had reigned supreme over the Shrieking Track. It was his territory. What better way to crush him than to beat him under the watchful eyes of his minions and adoring fans.
“I hate to say this but—” Ginny bit her lip“—they will be out for blood after you humiliate him.”
“I know,“ she said.
Hermione wasn’t delusional. She expected them to retaliate afterwards. But she was determined and ready for them this time around. While a part of her acknowledged that this wasn’t her most brilliant idea, she felt sure it was the only way for her to exorcise her trauma and take back the control they had deprived her of when they’d ambushed her that night.  She never wanted to feel the terror that had gripped her again, nor the helpless she’d felt lying on that icy floor, shivering in the biting cold of the freezing unit.
“At least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I’d beat him where it matters. After graduation, I’ll never see him or his little fan club ever again.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he’s going to realize he just lost to you,” grinned Ginny, pulling out her cell phone from her pocket. “I’ll make it my screensaver.”
Hermione laughed.
The element of surprise was crucial for her plan to have maximum impact.
While people at school knew that Harry raced in official competitions, no one suspected that she, too, was more than capable of racing a car. And since she always drove to school with her childhood friend, they didn’t even know she owned a vehicle.
Phoenix, the name she’d given her Ford Mustang when she was 12, was her pride and joy. She’d been nothing more than a frame and wheels when she’d first laid eyes on her, but she’d instantly fallen in love with it.
The old banger had been a gift from Sirius. After they’d pestered him to teach them more and more about cars, Harry’s godfather and legal guardian had bought the wreck, along with Thunderbolt, Harry’s Honda Civic, as summer projects for them.
Sirius believed in teaching through action and working on building their respective cars had taught her and Harry everything they knew about car restoration and engine building. Racing had come naturally after that. Sirius raced motorbikes for a living and they went to his competitions with Remus whenever the events didn’t conflict with school and didn’t take place outside of the country.
Hermione loved racing, loved the rush of adrenaline as she picked up speed, the complete focus each turn required, feeling the car she spent years working on rumble beneath her hands—there was nothing like it.
When Sirius signed up Harry for his first autocross race at 14, she had begged and pleaded with her parents to do the same. They had refused her each time. She had tried each year after that, but they never budged. The only compromise they’d allow her was being Harry’s practice partner. And never without supervision.
Tonight, she was breaking all their rules. That she couldn’t care less was testament to her determination to see this through.
Draco Malfoy was going to regret pushing her too far.
Ginny checked the time on her phone. “It’s time to sign up.”
Hermione took a deep breath and started her engine. As she approached the gaping hole that was once the entrance, trepidation gripped her stomach.
Although she knew everything about the history of the track, this was only her second time at the Shrieking Track. Sirius had been adamant about never letting Harry race here. While he wasn’t ashamed of his past, he wanted his godson to remain on the legal side of racing. It was the reason he’d allowed him to enter his first autocross race at such a young age.
However, when they were 13, she and Harry had snuck out one night to come watch the racers at the Shrieking Track. It was one of her favorite memories. She’d slipped out of her bedroom window and met Harry down the street where he’d been waiting for her with their bicycles. When they’d arrived at the legendary track, it had been everything they had ever dreamt about—the roaring of engines revving and cars zooming and the smell of tires rubbing on asphalt. The sensory overload had been an incomparable rush.
They’d watched the racing champions at the time, Ginny’s brothers Bill and Charlie take on racers one after the other and beat them with ease. They’d even been lucky enough to witness the emergence of a new racing star known as Tonks—the first female racer to make history since Harry’s mother Lily Evans. The pink haired punk girl had tied with Charlie Weasley in an impressive four loops race against the clock. Incidentally, much like Lily Evans before her, Tonks ended up dating her rival. They were getting married this summer.
Some hopeless romantic believed that any female racer who tied with a champion racer would live happily ever after with him. Hermione knew that was a load of rubbish. Although Harry’s parents had been madly in love, happily ever after hadn’t lasted past ten years before they’d both died in a plane crash. They’d been on their way to a second honeymoon, leaving 9-year-old Harry under the care of Sirius and Remus.
They had met that year when he’d enrolled at her school. He was being mocked for not having parents and she had punched the kid laughing at him in the face. That kid was none other than Draco Malfoy. That had marked the beginning of their feud.  
The irony of meeting both her best friend and her worst enemy on the same day wasn’t lost on her. Guilt tightened her chest at the thought of Harry and his reaction once he’d learn about her racing Malfoy. She hoped he’d understand why she couldn’t take the risk of dragging him into this. His future in racing would be in jeopardy if word got out about him coming to the Shrieking Track.
Malfoy would relish the opportunity to get him disqualified and kicked out of the circuit. Before becoming the reigning champion of the Shrieking Track, Malfoy had been Harry’s rival in every autocross competition since they were 14. He’d stopped competing in legal events with no explanation. Rumors around the circuit about the reason behind his sudden departure from the circuit ranged from him deciding to move on to F1 competition to being unofficially banned for violating some policy.
Whatever happened had led Malfoy to take over the Shrieking Track, annihilating the then champion, Cormac Mclaggen.
Malfoy never failed to throw his status of Champion of the legendary racing track in Harry’s face, taunting him about not living up to his parents’ legacy, baiting him to come here and compete. Hermione had been Harry’s voice of reason each time, reminding him of what was important: everything Sirius and Remus had done for him, as well as his future career as a professional racer.
She was almost choking on the hypocrisy of it all when she parked behind a couple of cars in the middle of the racing arena. The track’s infield was nothing more than a vast dirt lot after it had been stripped years ago. It was the designated area for spectators and racers before they had to take their place behind the starting line.
Ginny unbuckled her seat belt. “All right, I’m going to register you,” she said.
She exited the car then stuck her head in the open windows. “Looks like his Majesty and his court haven’t arrived yet, but stay here just in case.”
Hermione nodded. She grabbed the baseball cap with Sirius’ racing team logo from her backseat and put it on, tucking her short hair inside. Through the windshield, she watched Ginny walk up to Lee Jordan. Despite having graduated two years ago, he was still the MC for the races at the Shrieking Track. Students often spoke of his commentaries, and he had a reputation for being a fair judge. It was a wonder Malfoy hadn’t replaced him with one of his henchmen.
Lee looked surprised at the sight of Ginny. She’d been a regular of the Shrieking track until she started dating Harry. While her brothers were legends in this place, Ginny had no interest in car racing. She was a motorbike racer through and through, and Sirius had been her idol growing up. Hermione remembered with amusement the day Harry took his girlfriend home to introduce her to his godfather. The self-assured young woman had turned into a blushing, giggling fan girl. She’d come a long way since then, and Sirius had even taken her under his wing, helping her with her training.
She heard them before she saw them. The roaring of engines revving and music blasting echoed in the night. Her keys rattled in the ignition and she wrapped her fingers around the lion keychain she shared with Harry to stop it. They’d gotten them on his 11th birthday at the zoo. A fresh wave of guilt washed over her. Her cell phone pinged with a text notification. She fished it out of her jeans pocket and read Ginny’s message: they’re here.
Hermione looked up and saw Ginny tilt her head toward the opposite side of the infield. She recognized Malfoy’s silver and emerald Toyota Supra and Blaise’s black Subaru Impreza with green pinstripes. Theodore Nott got out of a blue-grey Ford RS Cosworth. It was her first time seeing it, but she’d heard rumors that he’d tweaked it to produce 600 bhp, making it capable of more than 200mph.
People immediately swarmed their cars and as soon as Malfoy emerged from his, a girl flung herself at him, forcing him backward against the car door.
Her phone beeped again, and she smiled when she saw Ginny’s emoji rolling its eyes.
G. W: if she wasn’t so desperate, maybe she’d see that he doesn’t give a shit about her.
H: Love is blind.
G. W: That’s called obsession, and Astoria Greengrass is a stalker.
Hermione watched as the girl grabbed Malfoy’s head and stuck her tongue down his throat, making the crowd cheer and hoot and laugh.
“He doesn’t seem to mind,” she typed when Malfoy squeezed the girl’s bum with both hands.
Ginny sent a vomiting emoji before adding, “They deserve each other.”
“Five minutes,” Lee Jordan's voice boomed. He lowered the megaphone and signaled towards the racing lane. “First up tonight, Blaise Zabini and Justin Finch-Fletchley.”
Her eyes widened at the second name. She knew Justin from her further math class. He was aiming for Oxford after getting his A-levels. She didn’t understand what he was doing here, ready to race, and even less why it was Zabini.
Ginny opened the passenger’s side door and got back into the car.
“You’re last against Malfoy,” she told her. “Lee agreed to call for Phoenix instead of announcing your name. He seemed excited about the big reveal. He said to wish you good luck.”
“Do you know why Justin is racing Zabini?” asked Hermione, pointing toward the two racers who were making their way towards the asphalt lanes.
“It seems Zabini made a move on Justin’s girlfriend Hannah at some party last weekend.”
Hermione arched a brow. “So this is what? Him defending her honor?”
“Boys will be boys and all that nonsense.”
“Who else is on the list tonight?”
“Seamus is racing Dean, again,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “They are currently tied with 45 wins each.”
Everyone knew Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas only raced for fun. The two best friends enjoyed challenging each other, and the Shrieking Track was just one of the places they picked for their friendly rivalry.
“Is Malfoy racing anyone else?”
“Yes, Nott. It’s their time of the month,” said Ginny with a grin.
Hermione laughed. Malfoy and Nott went head to head once a month. She remembered how Nott had taken great pleasure in reminding his best friend of his victory during their last race, much to Malfoy’s irritation.
“All right people, you know the rules,” Lee Jordan’s voice echoed again over the noise. “Cut off your music and let’s hear the engines roar and the track shriek!”
The crowd cheered and the music blaring from various vehicles stopped.
“Which one of you lovely ladies is going to do us the honors tonight?”
Several hands shot up and Greengrass unglued herself from Malfoy to jump up and down with both arms in the air. Hermione saw Malfoy motion for Lee to pick her.
“Astoria Greengrass.”
She heard the girl’s squeal and couldn’t help but be impressed at her ability to run with stiletto heels over the infield’s uneven surface. Lee handed her the black-and-white checkered flag and stepped to the side while she took her place in front of Blaise's Subaru Impreza and Justin’s maroon Alfa Romeo.
“Get ready!”
“They’re not going for a full loop, just the length of the straightway,” Ginny told her.
“I can’t believe Justin agreed to that.”
“Actually, he’s the one who suggested it.”
She turned towards her, stunned. “What?”
“Get set!”
Ginny shrugged. “That’s what Lee told me. Maybe he modified his car, and no one knows about it?”
Astoria waved the flag as she yelled, “Go!”
The instant both cars shot forth, Hermione could see that Justin was no match.
“He didn’t.”
“Poor Hannah,” said Ginny as they watched Blaise reach the end of the straightaway in seconds.
“What do you mean?”
“They bet her.”
“They did what?” her voice rose with indignation.
“The deal was for Zabini to give his car to Justin for a week if he won.”
Hermione scoffed, before it turned into full-blown laughter. She couldn’t believe Fletcher’s absurdity.
Ginny grinned. “And if Zabini won, Hannah would have to date him for a week.”
“That is just so bloody Neanderthal! And she agreed?”
“You know Hannah, she is so painfully shy, I don’t think she had much of a say in the situation.”
“That’s just appalling.”
“No argument here.”
They watched with disgust as Zabini wrapped an arm around an uncomfortable-looking Hannah Abbott while Justin glared at his rival, fists clenched. Hermione lost all respect for him when he got back into his car, slamming the door closed before tearing off the place in a rage, leaving his girlfriend behind.
“Malfoy and Nott, five minutes,” announced Lee once the congratulations died down.
The atmosphere shifted as both racers got back into their cars and drove onto the asphalt. They were the center of everyone’s attention. The tension in the air was palpable.
“Ready to taste defeat, Nott?”
“You said the same thing last month, you still lost,” replied Nott, but his tone was playful and Malfoy smirked and flipped him off.
The crowd roared and hooted at the banter. As people began placing their bets on the outcome of the race, Hermione noticed Greengrass glaring at Nott.
“Don’t talk to him like that,” she almost snarled, causing general laughter.
Ginny snorted. “My god, she’s mental.”
“Get to it, Astoria,” growled Malfoy.
“Teach him a lesson, babe,” she blew him a kiss before raising the flag. “Get ready!”
The deafening sound of powerful engines coming to life filled the space.
“Get set!”
They inched forward toward the white starting line.
“Go!”
Both cars shot forward under the crowd’s screams and cheers.
Hermione held her breath. Her fingers tightened around her steering wheel as her blood sang with the urge to get on the track, too—to be racing, to feel the roar of her own car echo in her bones.
“What do you think?” asked Ginny.
“You tell me. I’ve never seen Nott race.”
“There’s not much difference in performance between their cars. It usually comes down to skill between those two.”
Malfoy took the first turn and the second smoothly while Nott slowed down to avoid skidding off the 9-degree banking. Both of them maneuvered the sweeper curve with ease. As they approached the third turn, Nott sped up, reaching Malfoy. From their vantage point on the infield, it looked like he was about to crash into the green Toyota.
Hermione heard people gasp and scream amongst the spectators, before they exploded in cheers as Nott overtook Malfoy and shot past. The screech of Malfoy’s tires echoed in the night as he struggled to right the position of his car after the turn. Nott took the fourth and final turn first. They were neck and neck as they raced the straightway towards the finish line.
They both crossed it under the cheers of the crowd who began running toward the racing lanes to welcome them. Greengrass jumped on Malfoy again as soon as he was out of his car, planting a kiss on his lips. Zabini went to Nott and clapped him on the back, dragging poor Hannah with him.
“Which one got there first?”
“Malfoy,” answered Hermione as Lee Jordan’s voice announced the same name through his megaphone over the noise of celebration. “And congratulations to our two racers who both beat their personal best time tonight.”
The crowd parted as Nott walked over to Malfoy. They high-fived each other, wearing matching self-satisfied grins.
“Next month is mine,” said Nott, going back to his car to move it off the track.
Malfoy barked out a laugh. “Keep dreaming.”
Seamus and Dean took their turn on the asphalt next. The general feel of the race was more playful than actual competition, a stark contrast to the display of tense rivalry Malfoy and Nott had shown before. The crowd cheered as they raced around the track three times, overtaking each other at each turn, pushing their engines harder on the last turn before the finish line.
As people celebrated Dean’s win around her, Hermione took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She was next. Her stomach was in knots as apprehension and excitement warred with each other. She wiped her hands on her jeans again and closed her eyes, visualizing the track in her mind, the way Sirius had taught her.
Although she’d seen Malfoy race against Harry countless times, this was different. This was his territory, and he was in his element. But she knew she could take him. He’d never seen her race. He didn’t know her style of driving. As long as she stayed focused, she would beat him. She had to beat him.
“We can still leave, you know,” Ginny’s voice cut into her concentration.
Hermione opened her eyes. “No,” her tone was firm and final.
“Alright ladies and gents, get ready for our last race of the night. And let me tell you, it’s going to be one for the books!”
People looked around, wondering who was going to put on a show next. Every head turned toward the sound of a car coming from the entrance towards the infield. Hermione recognized Parkinson’s BMW.
“Is that girl ever on time to anything?” said Ginny with irritation.
The animosity between her and Malfoy’s cousin was as infamous as Harry and Malfoy’s hatred.
A hush fell over the crowd and Hermione noticed the confusion on several faces. Parkinson exited her car and Malfoy, Nott and Zabini were on her immediately.
“Since when do you race?” asked the latter.
Parkinson blinked. “What? I’ll leave dying in a wreckage to you lot, thank you very much.”
“So you’re not Draco’s next challenger?”
She looked at Nott as if he’d sprouted a second head. “Have you gone mad? There’s no bloody way I’d do something so stupid.”
“Ladies and gents, for our last race of the night, welcome to the track Basilisk and Phoenix!” interrupted Lee Jordan.
Hermione could hear people asking who he was talking about. They all knew Basilisk was Malfoy’s car, but Phoenix was a mystery.
Ginny turned to her and put her hands on her shoulders. “You got this.”
Hermione smiled at the look of absolute confidence in her friend’s eyes.
“Leave him in your dust,” Ginny said, quoting Sirius' words to Harry before each race. She winked at her, and got out of the car.
Hermione pulled the cap down again and turned the key in the ignition. The sound made every person turn in her direction. She could hear her heartbeat echo her ears as she maneuvered the mustang out of the infield and onto the asphalt. She stopped behind the starting line and inhaled deeply before exhaling. She ran her hands over the sides of her steering wheel.
“We’ve got this beautiful. A Basilisk doesn’t stand a chance against a Phoenix,” she whispered to her beloved car.
She heard Malfoy pull up to her left, and the knots in her stomach tightened with nerves. She’d never felt this anxious racing Harry. Her body was taut with tension and her foot began tapping against the floor of the car in anticipation.
She took a deep breath again and tried to relax.
“Who’s that?” she saw Greengrass bend to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the windshield. She lowered her head further to make sure her identity remained hidden.
“Come on Greengrass, give the signal or I’ll find someone else,” yelled Lee from the sideline.
“Don’t I have the right to know who I’m going up against?” said Malfoy and Hermione’s heart jumped in her chest.
“What’s the matter, Malfoy? Scared to race someone you don’t know?” came Ginny’s voice full of taunt, eliciting some laughs from the audience.
“Did your boyfriend finally find his balls, Weasley?”
“Last time I checked Malfoy—” Ginny crossed her arms, eyes ablaze with defiance “—you’ve yet to win against him so I’d tone down the arrogance if I were you.”
Zabini scoffed. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, little spitfire,” he said, leaving Hannah behind and coming over to Ginny. When he tried to put his arm around her, she ducked and the crowd laughed again.
“Who’s in that car, Ginerva?”
Hermione saw Ginny’s hand curl into fists. Everyone knew she hated being called by her full name and Parkinson delighted in using it.
“None of your business,” she replied, not looking at her nemesis. “Come on Jordan, let’s get this race going.”
The man marched over to Greengrass and took the flag from her hand. “Would you do us the honor, Ginny?”
“Hey!” Greengrass’ cry of protest was ignored as Lee dragged her out of the way. He handed the flag to Ginny, who marched onto the asphalt and stood between the two cars.
“Ready?”
Hermione turned the key in the ignition, and her car came to life. The familiar rumbling of the engine soothed her nerves, drowning out the noise outside. She was in her favorite place in the world and nothing could touch her here.
“Get set.”
It wasn’t Malfoy outside, revving up his engine. There was no crowd waiting to see who would win and who was behind the wheel of the Mustang. She was having fun with Harry, like she’d done for years—for the mere thrill of it and bragging rights. She was going to win and gloat for a week. A smile stretched her lips as apprehension lost against excitement and the tension ebbed away. Hermione opened her eyes and caught Ginny’s knowing grin through the windshield.
“Go!”
— I wanted to write something for Hermione’s birthday so I looked for a simple prompt and this happened because Fast and Furious came on Netflix’s suggestions for things to watch next. Initial Prompt : “Are you sure about this?”
14 notes · View notes
ansgar-martinsson · 4 years
Text
The Best Intentions - Part 12
Ansgar waited until Jolene lifted her fork and took her first bite of the smoked mackerel before he did the same. “Jesus,” he murmured under his breath, “that is amazing.”
Joline’s face, like his, was painted in a coat of culinary rapture. Her eyelids fluttered, her head rolled on her neck and her jaw dropped. “Oh, God!”
Ansgar was thankful for the first course, the timing of it, and the distraction of it. But he knew it would not last long. The two of them shared comparisons of the smoky flavor of the kohlrabi and the tang the pine nuts lent to the dish, but soon, as all good things do, it came to an end, and the waiter came in to collect their plates.
The door closed upon them once again with a quiet click, and once again, Ansgar took up Joline’s hand. He pulled her to him, but she stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “You promised.”
He sighed, and gave a small smile. “I did, didn’t I?,” he said. “But,” he lifted a finger. “I did not say when. Frankly, Joline, I would much rather not bring my ex-wife into our evening. I don’t want….” he searched for the word, eyes lifted, “I don’t want her shade to haunt and loom over the happiness I’m feeling at this very moment.”
She squared her shoulders, her chin tipped slightly. A prideful, closed lipped smile appeared across her face. “You’re happy?”
Ansgar nodded, an unfamiliar expression of honesty writ upon his own face. “Very much so,” he said. “Happier than I’ve been in years.”
“Well, would you… would you be willing to tell me about your time in America, like… after… her?”
He looked up at the waiter, who had come in with the second course - a small plate of dried and herbed venison with a dollop of roe and a dark grey creamy sauce. Ansgar said his thanks, and waited, watching with a slight impatience as the server once again disappeared behind the glass door.
“It was not the best time in my life, Joline,” he said, his fork raised. “I was…,” he breathed, coating a piece of the jerked meat with the dark, charcoaled sauce. He pointed to the tidbit, using it to demonstrate his meaning. “I was a shadow of myself. You see, I sent a wire to my solicitors after she left, instructing them to tell the board of directors that I was taking a temporary leave, to close up my home, sell my cars, and to wire the money to a nondescript bank in the middle of Iowa.”
Joline blinked owlishly at him, chewing on a bite of roe. “Oh, Ansgar,” she bemoaned.
He held up a hand. “No pity, please. I’m simply telling you this, so you know where I’m coming from. I just returned to Sweden a week or so ago, so the whole experience is still fresh in my mind. It,” he inhaled and exhaled, “it helps, actually. Helps to talk about it. I only hope that it won’t change your opinion of me.”
She set her fork down, folded her hands in her lap. “Listen, Ansgar….” She set her fingertips beneath his chin and lifted, turning his face to her. “Look at me.”
He obeyed.
“Nothing you tell me,” she said, “short of things like you murdered someone, or stole a shitload of money, or….”
He quirked a grin. “If I’m still married.”
She matched his expression. “If you’re still married. Which you’re not, right?” She furrowed her brow at him jokingly.
“I most certainly am not.”
“Well, short of any of that, I don’t think there’s anything you can say to me that will make me want you less. Maybe,” she shrugged, “what you tell me will make me want you all the more.”
He took a long breath. “I started in New York,” he said, steadily. “That’s where we were living. I left our apartment on Park Avenue, and I bought this… this cheap arsed car, this Ford… thing, and I drove. I just, I just drove. And when that car gave out on me, I was in South Dakota, and there, I bought a bike. The Harley I told you of. And that, I took for months, just… just riding. Stopping here and there, meeting people, meeting women… I don’t even remember half of their names.”
She listened intently as he recited the tale of his past two years. He told her of his escape, his disappearance. How he cut himself off from his friends, his family… even his twin brother. He told of his myriad identities, of his many names. He told her of buying a car and working in a mechanic’s shop in Ocala, Florida; of heavy drinking and Mardi Gras queens and Zydeco music in New Orleans.
He told of the few months he’d passed in near domestic bliss with the Chocktaw rancher woman in Nowhere, Oklahoma, of the time he spent as a dive bar piano player in the most run down part of Detroit.
He told her of Chicago in the throes of winter, of when he met his old flame there, and she… she was the one who finally told him to go home.
He recounted how he went back to the Caribbean island where he and Faye had wed three years prior. How he spent months there rebuilding, with his own hands, the church where they were married - the church that had been destroyed by a freak storm on their very wedding night.
“And,” he said, “when that was done… I came home.”
By the time he’d finished, they were on their fourth course, the rare beef, cabbage and purple salsify untouched on Ansgar’s plate. He sat in silence for a long moment, chewing on his bottom lip, before he could finally meet her eye again.
But it was she who spoke. “No wonder.”
“No wonder what?”
She set her fork down, turned to him and took his hands in hers. “No wonder why you still wear the ring.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me why you think I still wear it?”
“She…,” Joline’s words were shaky, breathy. “She messed you up pretty good from what you told me.”
Ansgar shifted in his seat and tugged on his hands, but she would not let go. “This… this is not what I wanted to talk about tonight. I… I didn’t want to feel this again… don’t want this… didn’t want it to interfere with us.”
“I know, and it’s not, really. It’s not going to change the outcome of this evening, is it?”
Ansgar chuckled. “It had better not.”
“I agree,” Joline said. “But I think you need to get it out. Before we… before we move on, you need to talk about it.”
“Not here,” Ansgar hissed.
“Yes, here,” she countered. “You need to purge your demons before we….”
“Ha!” he barked. “It’ll take a lot more than talking to purge my demons,” he said, darkly.
“I know. But it’s a start.”
“She did fuck me up,” he said after a long moment. “She was the first woman I truly fell in love with. I gave her everything of me, everything.”
“And,” Joline craned her neck, pushing her chin forward a little, “you’re hesitant to feel that way again, to… give of yourself like that.”
“Joline, I hope you don’t think – I – “
“No. Ssh.” She squeezed his hand and pressed a finger to his lips. “I get it,” she said, “and, I’m… I’m flattered, Ansgar. I’m actually a bit overwhelmed.”
“By what?”
She picked her purse up from the floor, opened the clutch and took out his ring. “That you gave this to me. You see, I understand now. She shifted her focus from him to the ring, and back to him. “This is your security. Your… sanity. This is what you were trying to tell me you and your sensei were discussing… when you went on and on about shields and fortresses and things like that.”
“Yes.” He swallowed. “Yes.”
“And you gave it to me.”
“I did.”
“Do you want me that much?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you saying, Ansgar,” she narrowed her eyes, “that you want to… to give me what you gave to her?”
“Joline – “
“Don’t mistake me,” she said. “I’m not asking for that, not at all.  I’m just – is that what you want? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I – I don’t know,” he said frankly. “Maybe. Possibly. Sometime. I mean, I only just met you, but,” he paused, his lips pursed, “I don’t want that thing, that hunk of metal there,” he indicated the ring with his gaze, “to foreclose any future possibilities.”
She looked away, her eyes wide and glassy as she nodded her head slowly, somewhat absently as she processed his words. She shifted her gaze back to him, her face intent. “Are you… afraid of me, Sgar?”
“I’m not afraid of anyone,” he spat.
She waggled the ring. “Really?”
He blew out his breath. “No,” he said. “I’m not afraid of you. I… strange as it sounds, I trust you – and I don’t trust many people, believe me. But – I’m sick the spectre of my past blockading my future. I’m tired of false names and fake personas and hiding who I am. I’m fed up with this… half life I’ve been buried beneath.” His face went hard, determined. “Joline, I want to live again.”
And… the fifth course arrived.
The elegantly presented plates of blackened leek and caviar looked fresh out of the pages of Eat Out, arranged painstakingly to appear its most appetizing. On any other day, Joline wouldn’t hesitate in digging and enjoying every last morsel, but she didn’t… this time. The aroma wafted invitingly off the plate enticing her in, but she was nose blind to it.
As the server politely excused himself from the room, Joline confidently shoved the bequeathed piece of jewelry back in her clutch. It was an estate inheritance, in a real way. Ansgar, of his own volition, put to rest his previous self. It was a step into his new self, and he trusted her with the knowledge of it. That he was ready to let go of the past.
When she turned back to the table, Ansgar looked at his plate the way Joline felt about it, appetizing but not hungry for it. She grinned at his profile, “That’s how I feel.”
He pushed the plate away from him, towards the center of the table. “As appetizing as that looks,” he scrunched his napkin in his fist and dropped it on the table, “I don’t want any of it.”
Joline slid her plate from her and took a drink from her water. Without a beat or word, she put it down and pushed to her feet.
Respectfully, Ansgar pushed his own chair back to do the gentlemanly, polite society call: to stand if the lady did or excused herself from dinner. Joline held his shoulder, “Don’t move, I’m not going anywhere. Just… I want to be close to you.”
His gaze raised to hers in question, but got tangled in perhaps the most appetizing dish all night. Joline’s fingers walked the material of her dress up her thighs, gathering a handful of her skirt and revealing bare legs.
Before he could ask or object, Joline lowered herself into his lap, her legs spread wide. It wasn’t purely sexual but it wasn’t far off. “Before we’re intruded on…” she glanced towards the door, “Thank you, Sgar.” Her fingers combed into his ginger curls drawing his focus entirely on her. “Thank you for trusting me.”
While she wrestled for the other words she wanted to say, her peace, she laid kisses on both his cheeks like she’d wanted to after their first lunch together. She offered him kindness, acceptance and forgiveness in the otherwise generic gesture that any European would do. But maybe… just maybe in held a bit more after their chat. Although she’d properly distracted him by straddling him in a restaurant that she was almost convinced he’d engineered.
“I want you to live again too,” she pressed a kiss to his temple, then his nose, and finally his lips. “I’ve been where you are… when my dad passed. I found it difficult to go on. I felt what you felt.” She pressed her hand against the place where the lion slept under his suit. “You know that dread in the morning when you wake up after something awful happens. Sleep is that blissful nothingness, unawareness, but when you remember… actually remember that life’s changed and you can’t put it right. No matter what you do… how much you drag through and pretend that the darkness isn’t eating you alive… that blackness revisits every morning.
“I’d hide in the theatre, afraid to see my shadow, because he wasn’t there anymore. I’d hide in a crowd, lose myself in the noise and stench and fog of Los Angeles. When I resurfaced,” she took a steadying breath to keep her emotions at bay, “the loss hit me again.”
She traced the lines of his face tenderly, showing him that she like everyone else carried some kind of hurt with them. “Some days are good and you can forget for a little while. Others are dreadful and you only want to hide. I get that, but I see you emerging from that hibernation, Sgar. You came home, you returned to the family who loves you. You surrounded yourself with those who love you and don’t judge you for needing that space. You returned to the company that you put your blood, sweat and tears into building. Those are all steps to getting beyond that terrible hurt.”
Ansgar couldn’t keep his hands from her any longer, her monologue touching him, relating to him. He tucked his hands behind her knees and brought her in even closer, until it was considered entirely sexual and bordered on indecent. His palms grazed up the length of her thigh from knee to hip, learning the feel of her smooth, smooth skin, the heat of her, and how long it took before her skin pebbled in arousal.
“Can I tell you… something… else? Something… funny?” Her words were innocent enough and came from a neutral place, a  place to alleviate the seriousness of their discussion… but her voice… breathy, broken and belied the increase of her pulse.
He gruffed, “Tell me.”
“My mother cursed… me. She—ah!” Ansgar hijacked her with his lips at the hollow at the base of her throat. His hands cheated under the stretchy outline of her knickers, cupping the slope of her ass. His fingers pressed into her pliant flesh, laying a possessive claim on her.
“I’ve a complex—“ she tried to speak beyond the ache, the cramp of need inside her. “S-S-Sgar—my name!” She made a valiant effort against the storm of sensation his lips and his teeth created against her skin. “Dolly Parton made me the other woman!”
And he heard her! He absorbed the knowledge of it and let the comedy of it sink into him. Instead of heated kisses, he laughed against her breastbone. “You gave me a difficult time… over a song?” He couldn’t contain his laughter. It was ludicrous, asinine, illogical and surprisingly endearing.
Joline surrendered to the laughter that she gained from seeing Ansgar’s. He’d seemed so serious, without a trace of humor in him. But he admitted that he felt some happiness with her, to see and hear the evidence of that poked at that giddy feeling in her. Again. “I’m chuffed my trauma amuses you so,” she pouted for show. “I’m scarred. You don’t know what it’s like to be serenaded upon every introduction. Or asked if I ran off with Dolly’s man!”
He saw the ironic humor in her and appreciated it that much more. Removing one hand from her knickers, he captured a fistful of hair and brought her into a passionate kiss, one of pent up desire, delayed anticipation and… freedom. Freedom of impediments, obstacles, memories, emotional bonds, and even detrimental self-preservation taken to the extreme. Ansgar gave over to it in an act of affirmation, doubling down on himself.
Joline took his face between her hands and broke the kiss. Rocking her hips forward, she displayed a mischievous grin of her own. “You were supposed to tell me that I gave you a hard time.”
A hissing expelled from his clenched mouth, “Careful, woman. You’re playing with fire.”
“I’m interested in how hard though.” She kissed him, giving him a wink and a promise that she would learn just how hard shortly. She hooked her hands behind his neck and leaned in again, sobering that little bit as they probably didn’t have much longer in the room alone. She gazed into his eyes, “I’ve no expectation in this, Sgar. Whatever this is. Actually, I do have one… an orgasm.”
“Only one? Don’t underestimate me, darling.”
“Sgar,” she said with a note of seriousness in her voice. “You’re healing and I understand that. If you decide that this,” she waved her hand between her chest and his, “isn’t what you want, that’s okay. I’m happy enough to be with you when you want me. I won’t ask you for promises or the Kardashian’s shoe wardrobe or fancy gifts or expensive exotic journeys–”
The door began to open, and Ansgar spoke sternly, “One moment please.” The door closed immediately without a face appearing or anyone getting an eyeful of the couple giving into their attraction.
Joline scrambled to her feet as he released his hold on her hurriedly. She felt a twinge of regret that she didn’t get to finish her thought before they were caught. She straightened her dress back down, smoothed her hair and sat down again in her own seat.
She’d lost her momentum in the interruption and the removal of untouched course five. Her desire… she wanted him and her body couldn’t stand much more of this waiting.
She looked at him as the server cleared their dishes. “I won’t make demands on you– well, anymore demands on you.” She cracked a weak rueful smile since she inadvertently issued an ultimatum about the ring in the first place. “This is your time… to rediscover who you are–without the shadow and the mess and the darkness– what you want, and how you choose to move forward.” She traced the plane of his cheek below the cut of his cheekbone. “If I’m part of that, it’ll be a pleasure.” She placed her finger over his lips to stop what she thought was coming. “Not in the crass way, you dolt.”
5 notes · View notes
its-jwang2017 · 4 years
Text
Part 6: As G-Dragon Says: Why So Serious?
For the past couple of years, Dark Soul and Project J followed a pretty strict routine. Once every week (or every other if there was a school-related conflict), they would kidnap Jackson, wait until Red Dragon noticed, distract said hero while they prepared for their battle, and eventually duke it out in the city streets. Sometimes Red Dragon would win. Other times, the pair would ALMOST win. It was a pretty familiar routine at this point.
This started around Jinyoung’s freshman and JB’s sophomore year at JYP Prep. On the anniversary of JB’s mother's death exactly one week into the school year, Jinyoung had stumbled into their shared room to find JB crying on the floor as tiny zaps of lightning radiated from his body like Jaebeom was the epicenter of a cloudless thunderstorm. As Jaebeom’s sobs got worse, so too did the power of his lightning and it took all of Jinyoung’s coordination to avoid getting hit as he made his way over to Jaebeom in order to act as a supporting figure for the older to lean on. It was lucky for JB that Jinyoung was the one who found him, since who knows what would have happened to Jaebeom if a normal human saw what he could do. From then on, Jinyoung and JB became almost attached at the hip. Jinyoung had finally found someone who could relate to his sucky past experience with his superpowers while JB found someone who he could always trust to calm him down from his so-called “temper tantrums” (he knew he had some anger issues, but he had also been through hell too so it’s sort of a given). The two never spoke of JB’s loss of control ever again, but both made the silent promise to be more careful from them on…
Of course, we all know that that didn’t happen.
 It was actually Jinyoung who suggested the idea that the two of them should sneak off campus at night to practice honing their abilities. The younger had noticed that both of them had problems controlling their powers after long periods of disuse; things around Jinyoung would randomly (and very obviously) start to levitate while JB started “kill” every technological thing he touched in uncontrollable shocks (JB had to buy four new phones in a matter of weeks. The AT&T people never looked at him the same).
What started out as an innocent desire to “blow off steam” every once in a while turned near deadly when JB and Jinyoung accidentally blew up an undercover cop car. They thought they had found an abandoned, dusty Ford on the side of the road but (as they’d figured out soon enough) it turned out to be an agent’s car he had evacuated after it stalled and died on him. The cop had left the vehicle in order to call for help, but JB and Jinyoung didn’t know that when they proceeded to use the car as practice for turning devices on and off with just a snap. When the car’s wiring and JB’s electric shock intermingled, the sparks created caused a …  slight  explosion and the cop was not happy when he came back to see his car on fire and two suspicious hooded delinquents standing not too far off. 
What followed was pure self defense, in JB and Jinyoung’s opinions. The cop called for backup, JB and Jinyoung ran, and when they were corned in an alley by a bunch of cop cars and angry police pointing their weapons at them, they did what anybody else would do in their situation; they used their powers to respectively shock or throw cops and/or cars out of their way, dodged back from oncoming gunfire, and raced back to JYP Prep. 
When they looked at the news report that night, they saw that they were labeled as “unknown, powerful criminals who took out an entire squadron of CPD personnel” who would be “hunted down and brought to justice for the inhuman nature of their crimes.” This is when the two laid eyes on the figure who would become their archenemy for the next couple of years… Red Dragon. With an already equipped super suit, Red Dragon was able to step out from the shadows and announce his allegiance with the CPD to try to capture the two unknown individuals. Red Dragon had stepped onto the mantle as the hero of Chicago, a figurehead that people could feel safe knowing was out there to battle the unknown evils of the world.
While JB and Jinyoung couldn’t believe that there was ANOTHER person with unnatural abilities, they REALLY couldn’t believe that another superpowered mistake had cost them their relatively “good standing” with society… again. They never got the chance to proclaim their innocence and, while they were lucky their faces were never exposed to any police or cameras, they both knew they couldn’t suppress their powers for long until it got out of control again; that was how they got into the entire situation in the first place!
So they both resigned themselves to their new labels; Since Jinyoung was attending JYP as an engineering major, he was able to access the necessary materials and equipment that the two would need to begin their new supervillain lifestyle… And the rest was history.
Even though the villains ended up losing every time, they kept returning back to their lair and plotting the next way to take over the city. At first, it was because their pride screamed at them to demand a showdown, to show the city that they were a force to be reckoned with and that they were both more than all of the hurtful things they were labelled as. After the twelfth time losing, however, it became a habit that was almost… comforting to the pair. Yes, they’d end their day with bruises, sores and burn marks that would stick with them for weeks after. But fighting the hero provided them an outlet in which to fully utilize their given powers without shame. They never had to hold back with Red Dragon and after years of hiding their “gifts” from everyone else, even going so far as to lose their blood relatives due to their abnormalities, the hero provided a welcome outlet that they had been searching for to begin with. So even though they kept losing, it was an honest loss tinged with hope for self-improvement (something they both yearned for but will never admit) and a reluctant acceptance at their status in the good-evil hierarchy.
This time… this time was different though. This time, the steady balance between good and evil was shattered, the hierarchy of the world demolished and what was left in this new, unfamiliar environment was a sense of hopelessness and grief. Because the one person, the only person in fact, that stood in the way of Dark Soul and Project J’s (admittedly ridiculous) attempts to take over the city was dead. And the duo had no idea what to do next.
____________________________________________________________
A week ago:
“This is what we wanted.” Project J said, but his tone was anything but certain of his statement. The two were back on the main floor of their “lair”, sitting side by side on their old couch, both staring off into the distance with unfocused eyes. The break in routine was so alien to them that neither could come up with a solution, both still in full uniform as if waiting for the real battle to begin. But the fight was over. They would never again stand toe-to-toe against their archenemy. 
For the first time in a long time, their workshop was completely silent. The warehouse they were in was usually bustling with activity after a big battle; the monitors would display the confrontation from different angles with Dark Soul carefully watching the videos, taking notes to improve their techniques. Project J usually took this time to make any repairs on his bots, the sound of his music and welder breathing life into the workshop. Plans/blueprints for the next attack would be drawn up and placed at one of the many tables scattered around the room, with crumpled rejected ideas littering the area near the trash cans. The remaining working bots would do their best to keep the area tidy for the two men but they’d usually end up getting in the way. This almost always led to Project J chasing after a bot with a soldering iron, Jaebeom laughing in the background as his partner screamed threats and obscenities at the machine that somehow managed to destroy a new project which it’s sensors interpreted as “unknown item. Dispose immediately.” 
But there were no repairs to be made today. No videos to monitor, no future battle plans to be made, no improvements to work on, no bots that Project J needed to reboot. Because they won. They actually won.
With his last words getting no response from the other on the couch, Project J continued on, “We’re going to have to make an appearance in the city, you know. Technically, it’s ours now… we need to start enacting  our  vision and rules to make a society that reflects who we are.” 
Dark Soul slowly began to move, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch to lean forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Project J finally turned his gaze towards his friend, waiting and hoping the other would have an answer, a plan, even just a slight idea about their future. He would never tell the other, but Project J relied on Dark Soul for guidance and support, trusting that his best friend would come up with ideas that benefitted them both. Dark Soul was the unsaid leader of their dynamic duo, but at this moment the older looked more like a scared kid than his supervillainous alter-ego. 
Dark soul shifted and ran his hands up towards the back seam of his helmet, pressing the small disengage button on the headgear. He took it off of his head very slowly and let the helmet fall out of his hands and onto the floor beside him. Without the visor there to hide his face, Project J could see that Dark Soul looked even worse than what he imagined. He was almost sickly pale with a light sheen of dried sweat still clinging to his face. In the slumped position Dark Soul was in he looked more like a marionette doll whose strings had been cut than the strong, powerful man he once was.
“Alright… we’ll do that.” Dark Soul muttered, his voice gravelly from disuse. Project J jumped a bit, not really expecting an answer just yet. When he realized what the other said, his eyes widened in shock, unused to Dark Soul agreeing with him so quickly (or agreeing with him in general). Slowly, Project J reached out a hand to rest lightly on Dark Soul’s back in an effort to provide some sort of comfort to the obviously emotionally distressed man. He could feel the slight static electricity radiating off of the other in waves, causing his hair to stand up slightly. A shock caused Project J to jump and he quickly retracted his arm, wincing at the pain while shaking his hand slightly. 
“Don’t touch me, Jinyoung… not now…” Jaebum mumbled darkly, hands still hanging loosely at his sides as he curled into his legs, his hair hanging strategically in front of his face as if hiding his emotions from Jinyoung. Jinyoung scooted away, letting his friend have his space (and saving himself from the tiny sparks jumping off of JB’s body). The only other time Jinyoung saw his friend this… hopeless… was the anniversary of his mother’s death, and even then Jaebeom was more expressive than he was now. In all honesty, Jinyoung wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new side of Jaebeom and he hoped that, at the very least, Jaebeom would eventually snap out of his stupor.
While Jinyoung couldn’t fix the problem with Jabeom at the moment, the telepath decided to start to resolve the situation at hand. He couldn’t do anything for Jaebeom then, but he could start moving forwards to tackle their current situation. If Jaebeom needed him to take control now and steer them both through the mess that they made, Jinyoung would bear the responsibility. It was the least he could do to pay back all of the times JB had helped him. So, with one final glance at JB, Jinyoung hefted himself up off of the couch and began planning their official take over. 
This is gonna be a lot of work … 
________________________________________________________________
Present: Friday 7pm
Jinyoung and JB were back in their dorms, their lair shut down and closed off as the two tried to return back to their normal student lives at JYP Prep while also simultaneously running an entire city from their dorm room. For the past week, Jinyoung had taken over the government proceedings and had made their presence known to the best of his ability. He had put up walls of bots around the city limits to prevent people from going in or out and had other drones flying around to monitor and enforce their rulings. Jinyoung put the entire city on lockdown in an effort to keep people safely inside their homes as he tried his best to figure out  how the hell the movies made hostile takeovers look so easy?!?  The villain knew that he was epically failing at maintaining order within the community. He could see through his bots that people were scared and that things were rapidly dissolving into pure chaos but he  didn’t know how to stop it!  And the person who was supposed to be his co-leader, the one who was supposed to be  helping him make all of these important decisions, was emotionally MIA. 
Jaebum had not moved from the bed for the past week. No matter what Jinyoung did or said, JB had refused to acknowledge the other’s presence. The only time he sat up was when Jinyoung brought him food and water to eat, and even then JB moved mechanically and laid down again right after. It was as if JB had lost all of his purpose in life and there was nothing Jinyoung could do to pull him out of his funk. 
Now Jinyoung could be an understanding, caring person. He wasn’t referred to as a “mom” for no reason. But even his kindness had its limits and he was just about ready to tear his hair out in frustration for the lack of support/help he had received from his supposed best friend. Was that selfish? Maybe. He knew JB was depressed and that no amount of love or care Jinyoung could provide would magically fix that. But he was also just trying to run a damn city and he desperately needed help; help that he could (unfortunately) only get from the sad lump underneath the covers of JB’s bed. 
Jinyoung sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his black hoodie off of his face. He hadn’t had a chance to shower or even change his clothes in the past couple of days, too busy taking care of JB and  an entire city  to even press pause for one second. His responsibilities to Chicago required constant attention and the only breaks he got he had to use to force JB to act like a basic human being. The red sweatpants and plain black hoodie he was currently wearing were basically a second skin at that point and his back and fingers ached from being hunched over his three monitors 24/7. One monitor kept flicking between different bots’ cameras so Jinyoung could keep track of Chicago and it’s happenings occurring anywhere in the city. The second was equipped with an AI that was coded to act as a “big brother'' of sorts; the AI would pull up any civilian-made search, text or call and comb through personal data to flag anything that seemed suspicious or threatening, which was really helpful for Jinyoung since he couldn’t be everywhere at once (It also was amusing to spy on his friends. He didn’t realize Yugyeom had THAT many pictures of a certain someone. He’d have to ask about Jackgyeom’s relationship again at a later date). The final monitor was solely used to keep track of and write the bots’ various codes to act as enforcers of the villain’s regime. All of this information gave him a headache, but even so he did his best to keep up with the constant influx of data. 
As he leaned back, hoping to take a quick nap-break, a sudden red emergency signal flashed on both his first and second monitor. Startled, Jinyoung quickly shook off his tiredness and pulled himself back towards the screens to see what his AI had found so alarming. A video played on the first screen while a voice message, sent only seconds ago, was highlighted on the other.
At first glance, Jinyoung thought that there was a glitch in one of his bot’s codes. It almost looked like a video of the time Jaebeom tried to use the first prototype of their shared escape hatch (it launched JB out of the room and almost broke his neck. Jinyoung still laughs when he watches JB’s look of utter terror as he sails through the air. It makes for good blackmail material when Jinyoung REALLY wants JB to do something for him).
However, upon closer inspection Jinyoung can see that the person in the video was decidedly NOT Jaebeom but Jaebeom’s crush, Jackson Wang. Who was outside. At night. During one of the most dangerous eras of Chicago’s history. After watching the other pound against the wall of their dorm, Jinyoung quickly rewinded the video to figure out how Jackson got into the situation in the first place and how he knew about the escape hatch.
After watching the (albeit hilarious) video of Jackson’s closet mishap, Jinyoung breathed a bit easier.  He looks like a scene from ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’. At least Princess Wang doesn’t actually know why the escape hatch is there... 
When he went back to the real-time feed, however, his anxiety flared back up as the camera showed a very distinct lack of one Jackson Wang. Quickly shuffling through the rest of the camera’s stationed along the perimeter of the dorm, Jinyoung could feel his desperation rising as each feed failed to procure Jackson’s figure. 
“AI Lee, find me the last known sighting of Jackson!” Jinyoung whisper-yelled, rolling up his hoodie sleeves in preparation for his computer search, his heart-rate spiking as he did his best to remain calm.  Please, let Jaebeom stay a caterpillar for a little longer… Oh god, if Jaebeom finds out about this…!
As “Lee” worked through the camera feeds from the dorm over the last couple of minutes, Jinyoung crossed his fingers and hoped that Jackson had accidentally fallen into the water or something. While the fencer was rarely ever uncoordinated, the times when he was were hilarious tales to be recounted to anyone who would listen. It wouldn’t be the first time Jackson had fallen over the pier.   At least I could get him out and back to safety easily!
Jinyoung was proven to be oh-so-very wrong when his AI brought up the data log from 2 minutes ago that silently showed Jackson walking along the grass outside the dorms. Jinyoung watched helplessly as a masked figure raced up behind the oblivious screen-Jackson and football tackled the other. The culprit definitely outweighed the athlete and easily restrained the fencer by forcing Jackson’s hands behind his back. Jinyoung watched as Jackson struggled underneath his attacker, feeling sick as he watched two more individuals emerge from the shadows and congregate around the downed junior. One of them pulled a bandana out of his pocket and shoved it into Jackson’s screaming mouth while the other handcuffed Jackson’s wrists together.  An ex-cop, perhaps?
The feed ended with the tackler easily picking Jackson up and slinging him over his shoulder. The burly guy held Jackson’s legs down and Jinyoung felt numbness take over as he watched the four disappear back into the night. Jinyoung stared at the screen in shock. Faintly, he sees the second monitor demanding his attention with the pulled-up voicemail blinking urgently. Jinyoung feels his hand moving the cursor to the play button, forgetting that the audio was active unlike the camera feeds. 
A muffled voice plays through his speakers and Jinyoung lets the sound wash over him. “Boss, you’ll never believe who I found! Me and the guys were just walking around the JYP dorms to try and scare some of those rich kids… when suddenly Jacob spots Red Dragon’s old flame! We’ve got that Wang kid! Maybe we can use him to ally with Project J or Dark Soul… I bet they’ll want him back after he escaped from them during their last battle! Either way, we’ve got an ace in the hole now! We’ll be back at base soon ( Jesus, Jacob! Get a hold of Jackson or get James to knock him out, he’s fighting like crazy!)  Uh… yeah. Ok I got to go, the hostage is being uncooperative. We won’t hurt him too much  (James, do something!)  OKGOTTOGOBYE!”
The dial tone filled the small room as Jinyoung tried to process the information he was a witness to. He was so caught up in his monitors that he didn’t even notice the once lifeless lump on the bed slowly sit up. He didn’t see nor hear the covers get flung off of the bed as his best friend  voluntarily got up from his self-imposed shutdown. Jinyoung was so focused on coding one of his bots to find Jackson that he didn’t feel Jaebeom’s silent presence behind his swivel chair. What Jinyoung did feel, however, was his hair standing on end as static suddenly filled the atmosphere around him. Jinyoung barely had time to realize what that meant before his seat was suddenly jerked around, causing him to let out a tiny yelp of surprise. The surprise soon turned into palpable fear as the cause of his sudden change caged him against the chair. Jinyoung stared into the furious eyes of his best friend for the first time in a week and he didn’t know if the furious look on Jaebeom’s face was better than the emotionless mask the other had been wearing in recent days. As tiny lightning sparks danced along the outside of JB’s plain grey hoodie, sometimes shocking parts of Jinyoung’s exposed forearms, Jinyoung decided that maybe it would’ve been better if JB had stayed emotionless instead.
JB was dressed in only his favorite hoodie and a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers that he had been solely wearing for the past week. In any other case, Jinyoung would have laughed at JB’s snaggly hair and grungy appearance. But this wasn’t any other Friday and this wasn’t Jinyoung’s normal Jaebeom.  Jaebeom rarely got angry at Jinyoung and Jinyoung would have been happy to spend the rest of his life not knowing what the full force of JB’s anger felt like. 
I guess today really isn’t my lucky day , Jinyoung thought as he cowered, tucking his arms into his chest and pulling his knees under the chair in an effort to shrink down as much as possible. Logically, he knew that his superstrength would be able to easily throw JB off of him. But he ALSO knew that enraging JB any more would be bad for everybody as the other looked about one second away from exploding.  JB’s body caged Jinyoung in, with his hands braced against the armrests and his torso blocking any escape attempts. Jaebeom’s head was still covered by his hoodie and as he lowered his head to get close to Jinyoung, Jinyoung wished that the hood didn’t make JB look so intimidating. 
Laughing awkwardly, Jinyoung valiantly tried to defuse the rising tension. “Sooooooooo… How have you been and how much did you hear?” 
Jinyoung had hoped that JB had not heard as much as he thought, but his hopes were soon demolished as JB  growled  at Jinyoung:
“Tell. Me. What. Happened.” 
Jaebeom’s voice was hoarse from disuse, but that didn’t make his command any less powerful. Quickly, Jinyoung told the other everything he knew, his voice rising an octave every time JB furrowed his eyebrows and glared at him (he wished his voice didn’t go as high as it did at that moment, but yours would have too if you were faced with an angry JB!). When he was finally done with retelling everything that had transpired to Jackson, JB’s angry chin was jutting out in full force. Usually, Jinyoung would rib him a bit about his telltale sign of dissatisfaction, but Jinyoung valued his life a lot, so he kept his mouth shut and waited for JB to make his next move.
After keeping Jinyoung hostage for another moment, JB finally shoved Jinyoung’s chair back towards his monitor’s and marched away. Jinyoung was jolted from the force of the push, but he quickly tampered down his fear and got to his feet to face JB's turned back. He watched silently as JB stalked over to his closet and roughly shed his grey hoodie, almost tearing the fabric with his desire to take off the offending item. JB rummaged around his closet for only a second before grabbing an Adidas black tracksuit, shoving his limbs into the clothing items and heading towards the door. Right as JB’s hand touched the doorknob, Jinyoung made a split second decision and quickly outstretched his right hand in JB’s direction. 
_______________________________________________________________
Jaebeom really had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what day it was or how long it had been since he had… killed defeated Red Dragon. The past couple of days were all a blur in his mind but in the last couple of minutes, one thing became clear: Jackson was in trouble and JB had to do something about it. Jaebeom had hoped that the one upside (if you could even call it that) of Red Dragon’s death would be that Jackson could finally be free from all of the pain that the villains had brought upon him. But after his brain clocked itself back in during the thug’s voicemail, after he heard that Jackson was still in trouble and that  it was still his fault…  Jaebeom couldn’t control himself.  He felt a bit bad that his first real interaction with Jinyoung since they took over the city was him scaring the life out of the other, but Jabeom could only feel a newfound purpose driving him forwards; he had to find Jackson and he had to do it fast before anything else could happen to him. 
He was just about to race out the door after changing out of his (frankly, disgusting) clothes when he felt an inanimate power stopping him in his tracks just as he was about to turn the doorknob. A harsh tug on his left ankle knocked him to the ground on his stomach and he clawed against the floor as he was dragged backwards by his leg, getting tangled up in the comforter and clothes he had discarded on the floor earlier. When the dragging finally ceased, Jaebeom thrashed around in an effort to detangle himself from the various garments and, once freed, quickly stood up and spun around, breathing heavily as white-hot fury boiled up within him. Jinyoung’s hands were clenched at his sides and Jaebeom could see the conflicting feelings dancing behind the other’s eyes, but he was too consumed by the thought of “Jackson in Danger” to think straight.
“What the hell, Jinyoung?! Let me go!” Jaebeom shouted angrily, giving his friend a heated glare that threatened retribution if Jinyoung tried anything again.
“Jaebeom, you know I can’t. You’re too close to the situation… just let me handle it.” Jinyoung spoke calmly and evenly, his posture stiff but defiant. What betrayed Jinyoung’s level-headed exterior was the slight tremor Jaebeom saw in Jinyoung’s hands. 
JB just scoffed and turned around again, “I’ve made my decision. I’m going after him!” He stormed away but he felt Jinyoung’s power stop his feet, preventing him from taking another step. 
Slowly, Jaebeom turned around and stared at Jinyoung’s outstretched hand. His eyes slowly trailed up Jinyoung’s arm and settled on the determined face of his comrade.The tremor was defined in Jinyoung’s fingers, yet his stare remained unwavering. “Jaebeom, please don’t make me do this. You know you can’t just waltz outside and display your powers without your suit. Not only will you expose yourself as Dark Soul but you’ll take me down with you! Just let me handle it, you’re still not in your right mind… please…” Jinyoung’s voice was hard but faltered slightly at the end, “ Don’t make me fight you… I need you to think this through… please, I need your help too...” 
Jaebeom saw Jinyoung’s shoulders slump at the end of his plea and in his heart, he knew that the other was just as tired and worn out as he was. Jinyoung rarely let his walls down but during the times he had, Jaebeom always felt a tiny bubble of pride in his chest at the amount of trust and respect Jinyoung felt towards him. Jinyoung was his first real friend and they had taken care of each other countless times during the past years. Usually, Jinyoung was Jaebeom’s voice of reason, the physical embodiment of Jaebeom’s subconscious. However, Jaebeom was unable to feel guilt as he charged his hands and raised his fists up to his face in as much of a fighting stance as he could with Jinyoung’s hold over his feet staying strong. 
“Don’t make me fight you either, Jinyoung-ah. Now let me go.”
The blue glow from his clenched fists further emphasized the look of pure betrayal on Jinyoung’s face before he collected himself and brought the walls back up, a mask of indifference pinned in place. Jaebeom felt the hold on his feet lift as Jinyoung dropped his hand. “Fine. I see you won’t let me change your mind. At least take a face mask with you so nobody knows it’s you. I’ll send you the coordinates when my bot finds Jackson.” 
Jaebeom watched as Jinyoung turned his back on him and shuffled back towards his rolling chair, collapsing onto it and stationing himself back on the monitors. Jinyoung opened one of the drawers on his left and tossed a clean, black face-mask at the older. Jaebeom let the power fade away back into himself as he caught the mask right before it hit his face. Quickly stuffing the material into his pocket, the older started for the door again as Jinyoung began coding commands back at the monitors. As Jaebeom opened the door and stepped through the threshold, he turned around one last time and studied Jinyoung’s face as it was lit up by the computer screens in front of him. He opened his mouth in an effort to say… something that would explain why he had to go. But nothing ever came. Eventually, he forced himself to look away and silently shut the door, racing off towards the escape hatch to go and find Jackson. He knew he would have a lot of apologizing to do over the upcoming days to get back into Jinyoung’s good graces, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable fight he was voluntarily running towards… 
Wow.... two updates within the week? Crazy... So remember how I said I actually had a lot of extra tidbits written but had to keep starting over and you know... writer's block? Well, the first half of this I wrote, like, six months ago but I hated it at the time and wrote three other possible paths that this story could have taken. But the other things I wrote I also hated and were a bit too angsty so I gave up. Thank god I kept the OG transcript cuz I went back through everything I wrote and realized "wait... this is actually ok" and then did my best to fix it up and TAH-DAH! Wrote all of this...
Apologies if there are any errors. Whenever I try to post on tumblr it gets rid of all of the italicized words and other commands for whatever reason.
I probably should've waited to post but now I'm back on the (Jackson + damsel in distress) storyline and I'm excited OK?! We're heading towards JACKBEOM TERRITORY Y'ALL!! Finally, am I right... Anyways like comment and subscribe or whatever the kids do nowadays
11 notes · View notes
superrosespy · 4 years
Text
Begin Again--Supernatural Story
Chapter 1
 The music that flooded through the car did nothing for the frustration pounding at my head. I groaned and tightened my ponytail as Kaden took another left. It had been a stressful week, that's for sure. The number of demons seemed to have doubled overnight leaving me with no time to focus on my schoolwork. Kaden and I had decided to return to hunting full-time ever since the Devil's Gate was opened. No one really knew what had happened, but I had my suspicions. After hearing about all the weird stuff going in Nebraska, we headed straight there.
       "So my guess is that these are the Seven Deadly Sins. I mean, Pride....Lust....what else could it be?" Kaden asked. We'd always had a very practical approach to hunting and never stopped studying the lore, even when we took a hiatus to focus on our schoolwork.
       I nodded slightly, "I think you're right. Starving to death in front of a TV....eating yourself to death....I think we're dealing with some big bads here."
       My best friend nodded, his blond hair falling in his face slightly. "And those FBI agents they mentioned? Do you think--"
       I could tell he didn't want to bring it up so I just nodded, "For sure."
       "So...." He looked at me cautiously, his blue eyes seemed to bore into mine, "you believe all the rumors, then? That the Winchester's opened the Devil's Gate?"
       I shrugged, "As much as I hate to defend them....I don't think they would ever do something like that. Maybe they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know? And knowing them, they won't stop until they've fixed it. So, yeah." I nodded resolutely, "Yeah, it's them."
       Kaden didn't look too happy about that which was understandable given the circumstances. We had spent about two years hunting in a group with the eldest Winchester while Sam was away at college. I had also spent quite a few years hunting with the boys when we were younger. I can't say that I know them perfectly, but I know them well enough to know that they would do anything for their family. I had a crazy feeling that this whole Devil's Gate problem was actually a Winchester problem. "Well...if it really is them...just promise me you--"
       "I'm fine, Kaden. It's been years. Water under the bridge." He didn't look convinced at my response but he stayed silent as we pulled up to the house. We were clearly late to the party. I exchanged looks with Kaden before we ran inside without a second thought.
D E A N
       Not gonna lie, things weren't going the way I'd planned. Lust had somehow cornered me in a bedroom of all places and the holy water was only five feet away. I could feel her working her creepy magic on me but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I just had to get her to the bathroom. So I just pretend she's winning. I took a deep breath and leaned in for the kiss but I was quickly interrupted by the door slamming open. I could've taken the opportunity to get away from the demon, but I was far too distracted with what I saw.
       The sunlight pouring in from the window was enough to make her brown hair shine. Her blue eyes were fierce and intense. My breath hitched in my throat, I hadn't seen her in years. Before either of us could move, Audrey had knocked Lust to the other side of the room.
       Man, it is good to have her back.
       She shook her head, "I knew it was the two of you behind all of this."
       I flashed a smirk in her direction, "You know me, Sweetheart. I like a challenge."
       "Screw you, Dean."
       A low laugh came from the corner of the room, "Fascinating." We turned around to see Lust back on her feet, a mischievous look in her eye. "Can you feel that? The energy is almost palpable. And I can promise you that I had nothing to do with it."
       She tilted her head slightly and my heart sped up. My throat dried as images flooded my mind of grabbing Audrey and pulling her to the bed behind us. Not the time, Dean. I can fight her. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the thoughts from my mind. We were too close to let Lust win now. I signaled to Audrey and we moved at the same time. Coming at her from both directions allowed us to catch her off guard. I left Audrey in the room to guard and dragged the demon to the bathroom.
       The longer I was near her, the stronger the urge was to turn back and make a move on Audrey. It was as if she could hear my thoughts....she started laughing, "C'mon, Dean," She taunted, "You've wanted her for so long and she's right in the other room."
       I fought against every bone in my body that screamed to act on my impulses by focusing on Sam. Everyone is counting on me downstairs. That was enough for me to finish the job. Thankfully, I could feel my heartbeat return to normal as Lust passed out on the floor. I took a deep breath and prepared to see Audrey again now that my mind was completely clear.
       But she was gone by the time I came back. I groaned in frustration. The whole thing was just Lust messing with my head. That's so messed up.
       I tied up the demon for good measure before carrying her downstairs to the main fighting ground. That's where I found Bobby, Sam, and.....Kaden? There were five bodies lying around them on the ground. I cursed under my breath. If Kaden is here....it must mean that Audrey had actually been there too. She probably just left before I had the chance to talk to her. I threw the demon into the pile and looked around, "Where is the last one?"
       "Audrey's on it." Kaden answered, clearly unhappy to see me, "And I'm almost positive that you volunteered for Lust....so it must be Wrath that she's taking out."
       His words stung. He's positive I volunteered for Lust? What a childlike thing to say. I glared back at him preparing to attack, but Bobby beat me to it, "Enough, boys. We've got seven demons to exorcise here."
       I rolled my eyes and took a seat by Sam who weakly patted my back. He's the only one who really understood everything that had gone down. It was such a mess I could not be more grateful that at least one person understood. Bobby had started the first exorcism when Audrey walked in carrying a man bridal style. "Lucky number seven?" She announced with a weak smile and dropped him to the floor.
       Sam smiled at her, "It's good to have you back, shortstop."
       "We're not back, Sam. We're here to clean up your mess then we're gone. I have a life I have to get back to."
       "I get that. I do have a quick question for you, though." I was super impressed at how Sam was handling Audrey's sass.
       She must have been too because she just nodded at him to continue. He just went for it by asking her if she had ever heard of a weapon that could kill demons. Her brow furrowed and she tugged at a piece of her hair, "Like...besides the Colt?"
       He nodded, "Yeah. Maybe...a knife?"
       "That would be awesome, Sam. But there's nothing else I can think of."
       "Alright. One last question....how would one get out of a deal with a demon?"
       I glared at my brother and prayed that over the last few years our friend had become dumber than she used to be. He was being so on the nose, though, she was bound to find out. She leaned back against the wall and folded her arms, her hard-set gaze shifted between me and Sam. "Why would one of you ever make a deal with a demon? You two are dumb, but you're not that dumb." Her eyes locked to mine and she glared, "Dean." Then she just sighed, "Dean, why would you sell your soul?"
       I ignored her question and jumped up to help Bobby with the demons' bodies. Very few had survived the possession. The longer I could avoid Audrey the better. She was literally going to kill me.
       As Bobby and I walked away from the building I could hear Sam trying to talk her into staying to fight with us. I shook my head. If he was actually successful in that we wouldn't last a day. "You could just talk to her, y'know." Bobby grunted as we started digging the grave.
       I snorted, "Yeah right, Bobby. You know I'm the last person she wants to see."
       "Well, son. You're the one who keeps complaining about how you're running out of time. You should fix things with her before then."
       "It's not happening, Bobby. She hates me and I have less than a year left." I shook my head, "It doesn't matter anyway."
       He shook his head but didn't say anything else. We finished the grave and dropped two bodies in when Audrey's laugh rang out from the house. As we walked back, it was obvious that she was enjoying herself. My grip on the shovel tightened automatically as we stepped inside to see her and Sam. They were sitting together at the table, talking and laughing. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the next body.
       "Y'know there are three of you. If you'd each grab a body we'd be done by now." Bobby growled at the two sitting down. I watched them exchange a look before Sam stood up and offered a hand to help her up. I scoffed and headed outside before I could make another sarcastic comment that would drive her away. This is ridiculous. She shouldn't be here anyway.
       "If you don't mind me asking, how did y'all find out about this case? I mean, you were studying to be a doctor. What caught your attention?" This was the first time I had actually felt jealous of Sam's soft voice. He just understood people. He knew how to connect and he earned people's trust really quickly.
       I heard a soft sigh escape from Audrey, "Yeah, well...no one really missed when the Devil's Gate was opened. Kaden took it as a sign that we never should have quit hunting. He's found so many cases that I think I might have to quit school for good."
       Well, the two of them did have a lot in common. I finished my part of cleaning up and headed back to the Impala. Bobby talked to me about omens to look out for and he was off. I took a look at Kaden's car and laughed. He still drove a Ford Truck. White, of all colors. Weak. I placed a gentle hand on my baby and looked up to see the three stooges finally make their way over. "They're coming with us, Dean."
       My heart stopped, "What?"
       Kaden scoffed and headed to his truck while Audrey crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance, "I'm not thrilled about it either, pretty boy. But Sam needs all the help he can get."
       I glared at my brother again before looking back to the other two, "Look. No one here is in immediate danger, and we work alone. So--"
       "Dean, I'm not stupid. I know you made a deal. We might be able to help you figure it out."
       "You can't just flash a smile at the demon and expect everything to be okay."
       Anger flashed in her eyes, "Listen up, douch---"
       Sam grabbed her arm and they whispered intensely to one another for a while. I rolled my eyes and flipped Kaden off behind my back. I knew he was sending me dirty looks, I could feel it. Finally, they finished talking and she went straight to the ugly truck without looking in my direction. "Come on, Dean. I worked on her for over an hour just to get you a shot at a second chance. Don't ruin this."
       "Whatever, Sam. She hates me."
       "No, she doesn't. Just...be gentle."
       I groaned and stared at the sky for a good minute, "I cannot believe you brought those two back into this."
       Sam just shrugged, "Maybe they can help. Let's just give this a shot."
       I didn't say anything, I just got in the car and turned the radio on as loud as I could.
1 note · View note
avengemebucky · 5 years
Text
Beatle Fever
Tumblr media
A/N: I really love The Beatles and this era of history so it was really fun writing this! I’ve been on a super long hiatus but with summer finally beginning, I hope that I can finally begin to crank more stuff out.  Hope you enjoy!
W.C.: 3952
MASTERLIST
“She’s still not over it?” Steve leaned over to Bucky as he rummaged through his messy locker.
Y/N was just a few lockers down from the boys, dressed fully in black, from head to toe. It was a stark difference from her usual colorful pencil skirts.
Bucky huffs and shuts his locker.
“I mean, I get it. J.F.K.’s… passing… was rough on all of us, but it’s been- what? Five months? She’s got to snap out of it. I miss my best girl.”
Bucky let the last part of his confession trail off as he and Steve walked to their next class. He never could have imagined Y/N being this devastated by the whole ordeal.
-
Tumblr media
The young couple stared blankly at the television, Y/N clutching closer to Bucky than he’d ever recalled.
“This… this is nuts.”
That’s all Bucky could say. The images that kept looping on the screen were too early to have any true meaning to the two. The footage of Jackie reaching behind the Cadillac for her husband’s skull had repeated for what had to be the tenth time. Walter Cronkite was explaining the situation over the scenes, repeating the small portions of information they already knew:
John F. Kennedy, America’s youngest and first Catholic president was killed during a parade in Houston, Texas. Death through a shot to the head.
“Buck, he was supposed to change the world.”
Bucky looked down at his girl and saw tears in her eyes. He didn’t know what to do to help Y/N at that moment. He knew how much Kennedy meant to her. He couldn’t count all the Saturdays Y/N had chosen door to door campaigning over dancing with him in support of the politician. The number of weekends she’d even convinced him to come help trailed out of sight. Because of her, he’d had grown fond of the Bostonian.
Not bearing to see the same grotesque spray of red one more time, Bucky turned off the television. Y/N stayed, eyes blank glued to the television. Their shock only allowed silence in Y/N’s small living room as both continued to stare at the television set, not knowing what to do.
With a sharp breath, Bucky slipped off the couch to kneel in front of Y/N. Taking her face into both hands, it took a startling amount of time to finally catch her attention and bring her back to reality.
“Baby it’s going to be okay. This… this has happened before, hasn’t it? In our past? I know you know it has.”
“I know but-”
“Tell me when it’s happened before. Specifically”
“Well…” She sniffed and broke from Bucky’s glare to concentrate. Even at her lowest, she was always the A+ student. His A+ student.  
“Abraham Lincoln, after the Civil War… Ford Theatre, I think?” She bit her lip, taking time to collect herself before a little spark finally returned to her eyes. “John Wilkes Booth actually shot him in that theatre because he acted-”  
Bucky shook his head. “Sweetheart, I love that big brain of yours but my point here isn't for you to give me a history lesson. What happened after Lincoln was shot?”
“Andrew Johnson took office.”
“And life went on, and everything turned out to be okay.”
Bucky took her in his arms and held her close. He didn’t know whether his message got across but knew that he needed her in his arms. Bucky stayed on his knees and Y/N slouched over in their awkward embrace before finally parting.
Y/N smiled sadly and sniffled, wiping away a few tears that happened to escape. Bucky wiped them away and tried again to assess her feelings. She understood that he was trying to console her but she knew better than thinking things could be normal once again.
“Buck, being okay isn’t the same as being back to how things were. We’ll never be the same… “
Bucky shook his head and tried to interrupt her but Y/N stopped him before he got the chance.
“We’ll never be the same without him.”
Her hoarse whisper was all she left him as she walked up to her room. Bucky sat silent and broken in her empty living room.
-
Y/N’s line still haunted Bucky then, five months later. She was by far the smartest person that he knew, arguably even more than Bruce Banner. If the smartest person was this pessimistic about a tragedy as monumental as Kennedy’s fate, he didn’t know what to believe anymore.
The bell marking the end of fifth hour woke Bucky out of his trance. He grabbed his bag and ran after Steve to lunch.
“We still meeting up with the girls today?” Bucky asked as he finally met Steve’s pace.
“Yep! Haven’t heard any different.”
When the boys finally reached the cafeteria, they didn’t expect the large hoard of girls crowding near the back corner nor the two girls pushing past behind them, running towards the commotion.
Steve and Bucky, dumbfounded, found Clint at their usual table, without Natasha. He seemed to almost be as confused as they were.
“Clint, where’s Natasha? Don’t you two always walk together?”
Steve tried to poke some fun at Clint’s obvious crush on the redhead but he seemed completely unbothered, still consumed by the growing group of chittering girls.
“Don’t be too quick, Rogers. I wonder where your two gals could be…”
Steve quirked his eyebrow.  
“What, you think Peggy and Y/N are in that?” Steve incredulously emphasized, not taking any of the girls giggling in the back of the room.
“Wouldn’t be too quick to assume, pal. It’s all over the news. I think they’re calling ‘this’,” Clint motioned his head toward the girls, “‘Beatle Fever’.”
“What the hell do bugs have to do with our girls not meeting us for lunch?” Bucky quipped.
Clint laughed. “You have no idea…”
Having enough of Clint’s elusiveness, the two boys ventured their way to the back of the cafeteria to see for themselves. Steve and Bucky fought their way through the crazed girls, still not understanding the purpose of their current congregation. They were packed together like sardines. Some of the unlucky ones near the back were forced to stand on tables to get a clear view of whatever everyone was watching.
When they finally reached the epicenter of the girls, they found the capture of their attention:
A small television, no more than a foot wide, the cafeteria staff used during their down times throughout the day. The girls seemed to have taken the set hostage, all clamoring around about the boys on the screen.
“Who are they?” Bucky whispered to Steve, seeing no difference between the four men who kept appearing on the screen, with identical long haircuts and black suit and ties.
“You two have to be kidding, right?”
Pepper Potts, who had happened to be standing by the two, piped in.
“They’re The Beatles! John, Paul, Ringo and George?”
The boys gave her no reaction or realization to the names and she was extremely unimpressed with the two.
“They’re from England and they’ve been on the top of Billboard’s weekly for at least three weeks. Where have you two been?  Living under a rock, or too busy with football?”
Bucky scoffed at Pepper’s jab but Steve elbowed him.
“Pepper, have you seen Peggy or Y/N? We can’t seem to find them.”
She pointed just across the opening surrounding the television and the boys instantly found the objects of their search. Peggy was giggling like the rest of the girls, complimenting whichever band member she’d already found a liking for. On the other hand, Y/N sat silently, awestruck with her head in her hands, not taking her eyes off the screen for a second.
“Sorry Barnes, but your girl’s got it bad…”
Pepper smirked as she followed Bucky’s line of sight to his steady, totally transfixed by the Brits.
Bucky scoffed, but knew deep down that Pepper was right. He’d only seen Y/N’s eyes that bright once before when her ACT score came back as a perfect 36. He’d helped her study for the entire previous month and she gave him one of the greatest kisses of his life when she got the news about her score.
Steve and Bucky thanked Pepper and parted towards the girls. They struggled but eventually got the Peggy and Y/N back to their lunch table. When everyone was finally settled and their normal lunch routine began, Steve and Bucky shared a look only they two understood.
We’re screwed.
-
It started with buttons. Magnetic buttons of Paul McCartney hanging in Y/N’s locker, buttons of McCartney littering her book bag and eventually on her denim jacket. The same denim jacket that housed Bucky’s new pin he’d gifted her after she’d lost his last one down the drain. Bucky hadn’t really been bothered by Y/N’s new “hobby”. Sure, he was a little jealous some dofus with a name like Paul was special enough to catch this much attention from his girl, but he still was her number one. He just didn’t really understand it.
-
“Nice shirts, ladies.”
Steve had meant for the comment to be snarky but Peggy and Y/N didn’t seem to catch his drift. The girls were wearing almost identical shirts of what had become to be known as the Fab Four, running down what looked like the streets of London. Other than the corresponding kiss stain over John Lennon for Peggy and Paul McCartney for Y/N, their shirts would have looked exactly the same. Bucky rolled his eyes.
“Thanks, Steve! I’m really glad you said that, you’ve reminded me of a special announcement Y/N and I have to share. We’ve got to dress the part as…” Peggy trails off as she turns to Y/N giddily, the latter sharing the same if not more giddiness from the news as Peggy.
“Vice President and President of our school's chapter of the International Beatles Fan Club!” Y/N announced giggling and triumphantly as she slung her shoulder over Peggy’s.
Steve and Bucky both gave each other a look before turning back to their girls.
“I’m President and Y/N’s my Vice because of her duties with the Academic Decathlon.” Peggy filled the boy’s silence with pride.
“I really wanted to head the group, but I didn’t think I could handle it. I know Paul would understand, though…” Y/N and Peggy both laughed as she looked down at her shirt as if talking to the man on her clothing.
“Doll… really? You’re talkin’ to him like that in front of me?” Bucky was joking but it wasn’t hard to see there was something deeper running through Bucky at the moment.
“Oh come on, Buck. I’d never have a chance with him. Let me have my fun.” Y/N stuck her tongue out at him but he quickly chimed back in.
“Oh no… If he got one look at you, he’d try to steal you away from me.” Bucky reached across the table and grabbed for one of Y/N’s hands, taking it in his own and bringing it to his lips for a kiss.
Y/N’s cheeks blushed and Peggy awed over Steve’s fake gag.
“I guess it’s just that I don’t get it. You’d always made fun of all the girls who’d gone googly-eyed at Elvis or any of those goofy crooners. What makes these dorks different?” Bucky asked Y/N sincerely.
Y/N wasn’t quite sure how to answer. She took a while before replying to her boyfriend.
“I don’t quite know. Things are just different, I guess!”
Y/N shrugged and threw her hands up without a care in the world. The bell signifying the end of lunch rang throughout the cafeteria and the girls parted from Steve and Bucky towards their next class.
Even as she was walking away, Bucky recognized a light shining through Y/N as she talked to Peggy. It was a light he hadn’t seen in what felt like months. He had caught glimpses of it before when she had reorganized her pins on her bag or straightened her coveted shirt.
Bucky scoffed and laughed to himself as things finally clicked.
Steve waited at the cafeteria door until Bucky arrived.
“What are you laughing about?”
“Nothin’.”
Never thought some British punks could bring my girl back.
-
“How could I dance with another
When I saw her standing there…”
Bucky snuck up behind Y/N, singing into her ear as she tended to her locker, wrapping his arms around her waist and swaying a bit.
“Bucky, come on. We’re at school.” Y/N tried to scold Bucky for his public display of affection, but the smile peeking through her attempt of scolding let Bucky know he was off the hook.
“Man… I’d really thought the song reference would’ve softened you up.”
Bucky kept her in his arms and slipped in a small peck to her cheek just to see the hue of pink he’d become infatuated with.
“Buck, I love the attention, I really do, but I have to go to the fan club meeting. It starts in five minutes.” She returns his previous affection with a kiss of his own on the cheek as she snuck her way out of his arms.
Bucky caught Y/N’s wrist before she completely slipped away.
“Before you go… I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Bucky handed her a white envelope and received a perplexed look in return.
“Buck, what’s this for? It’s not my birthday and our anniversary was just last month.”
Bucky smiled shyly, kicking at the ground.
“Just open the envelope, doll.”
As she opened it, she only got more confused.
“Two train tickets to New York City? I don’t understand...”
“I just got a call from my cousin Maurice, last night. Remember how he got a job on that Ed Sullivan show?”
Y/N didn’t quite get where Bucky was going, but she nodded her head.
“Yeah, it’s a sweet gig he swung. I still don’t understand…”
Bucky took a deep breath and prepared himself for Y/N’s reaction.
“Well, he called me late last night saying that Ol’ Eddie booked a band Tuesday night for the Friday show. He got me and you tickets!”
Y/N scrunched her nose, still not picking up the hints Bucky was dropping.
“A Friday night show in New York? I don’t know Buck, I usually study-”
“It’s a pretty cool band, doll.”
“But for a two-hour train ride? Who’s cool enough-”
“A band you really like, doll.”
“What band’s worth all that trouble?”
“Y/N, I got us tickets to the Beatles!”
Everything went quiet for Y/N as she stood stiffly in front of Bucky.
Bucky definitely wasn’t expecting this reaction. He waved his hand in front of her face a few times but got no reaction or change from her previous expression.
“Jesus, did I just break my girlfriend?”
Bucky laughed dryly, realizing the scene Y/N was causing with her statuesque posture in the middle of the busy school hallway. He apologized to a few passer-byers before turning back and taking Y/N by the shoulders.
“Doll, you’re going to get to see that punk Peter or Paul you like so much… just don’t leave him for me, okay?”
The mention of Paul brought Y/N out of her stupor and Bucky’s ending joke was drowned out by the deafening scream Y/N let out. All the students passing sent looks and annoyed glances.
“I’m going to see The Beatles?!”
She almost beat her previously volume and Bucky was quick to shush her.
“We are going to see the Beatles.”
Y/N jumped into his arms and he almost didn’t catch her in time. When he put her back down, Y/N was shining brighter than Bucky had truly ever seen before and it left him speechless.
The two had a habit of getting so caught up in each other that they’d be in their own universes. This was a prime example and neither Y/N or Bucky saw anything else but each other in the crowded passageway.
The bell rang for the hour and the couple was thrown back into the school hallway they were standing in. Y/N squeaked, realizing what the time was.
“I’m gonna be late for the meeting! Call me tonight, Buck!”
Bucky watched as Y/N ran down the crowded hallways skipping every so often. He laughed at her childish antics. A warmth suddenly spread throughout his chest at the sight. A feeling similar to leaving a cold movie theatre to a hot summer night or putting on a just dried sweater. He’d never let her know but that same red hue flooded his cheeks as he watched her run down the hallway, bumping into multiple strangers with her happy distractedness.
His girl was back, better than ever, and he had the Brits to thank.
-
Tumblr media
“Buck, baby pinch me, please. I want to make sure again.”
Bucky rolled his eyes at Y/N and pinched her forearm again as they waited in the audience of the Ed Sullivan show.
“You’re not dreaming, doll…”
“I know Buck, I’m just- I’m freaking out!”
Bucky would be lying if he didn’t say he felt the same. It wasn’t the performance starting in a half hour that was raising his blood pressure, it was the inevitable craze that would rip through the heavy crowd he and Y/N were currently standing in. Bucky never really liked big groups of people, large quantities of crazed teenage girls even less.
He and Y/N had already made a plan if they lost each other during the show including a meetup place and a mini bottle of mace Y/N had refused to take from Bucky that he’d slipped into her purse during the train ride over. He wanted to know that his girl was safe if anyone tried to mess with her.
“I kind of am too, doll…” Bucky replied shakily to Y/N.
“Really? I can’t believe it! You’re finally a groupie like me?” The excitement of the show had clouded Y/N’s usual detection of any sarcasm or deeper meaning to Bucky’s reply. He couldn’t blame her but needed to get some fresh air before the true chaos ensued.
“Babe, I’m gonna smoke a quick one, kay?”
“Bucky… You’d said you quit-”
“I know, doll. I’m just stressed, is all. I can barely handle you when you go full-fledged ‘member of the Beatles Fan Club’, I’m not sure if I’m ready for a room full of gals just like that or even more so.”
Y/N realized the situation for Bucky and nodded her head.
“Just promise me you’ll be back before the show begins.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Bucky gave Y/N a quick kiss on the cheek before beelining to the side exit of the theatre. The cold air of the night was tangible relief for Bucky as he took a few deep breaths of the city air. The exit had led him to an empty alley cutting into a side street. Other than the few technicians still working on the lights and the stage for the performance, the alley was completely free of people.
Bucky pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one up, inhaling and exhaling the stress reliever.
God, he hated boy bands. He wasn’t a music snob, he actually liked a few Beatles records. It’s the craze they cause he disliked. Some of those girls won’t be in their right freaking minds when the band starts. He’s going be in the middle of all of it with Y/N. For Y/N.
A sudden door opening stopped Bucky’s inner rant as he watched four identically dressed men pile out into the alley from a separate door than he’d exited from before. One with far less traffic flow.
“Ah, George! Ya really done us in now!”
“Georgie forgot the cigarettes?”
Two of the men were clearly bullying one, who had his hands up in the air in protest.
“Oy, it’s not my fault. Paul there was too busy flirting with the birds to remind me!”
The shortest one who hadn’t spoken a word finally chimed in dopely.
“Boys, why ya fightin’? I brought mi’ lighter!”
“Ringo, what the hell ah we goin’ to light up if we don’t have any smokes. You bloke-”
Bucky stands a bit starstruck as he watches the men bicker. If it weren’t for the clear name dropping, he wouldn’t even have realized the group arguing so childishly in front of him were The Beatles.
“Hey… um I have a few extras.”
The group of four fall silent as they all turn in Bucky’s direction, not even noticing then man smoking there until now.
“You not goin’ to kidnap us if we smoke w’you?” Ringo, the shortest, said wearily.
“Ringo, don’t be so full of yourself. No one wants to kidnap ya!” John joked and Ringo sarcastically laughed along.
“Thanks, mate. We really appreciate it. It’s a big show we’re about to put on.”  Paul is the first to approach Bucky and gladly takes one of his cigarettes from the pack. Ringo lights it and it isn’t too soon until all the men are smoking happily in the alleyway.
“I’m here for your concert actually,” Bucky confessed as he stomped out his cigarette.
Ringo visibly tensed and was berated once again by John, clearly reminding him that no one would ever want him enough to kidnap him.
“I’m here for my girl, she loves you guys a lot.” Bucky took his picture of Y/N out of his wallet and let the boys pass it around amongst themselves.
“Wow…  she’s a looker. You’re real lucky, lad.” Paul patted Bucky on the back,
“Actually, Paul, you’re her favorite.”
“Really?”
“Don’t try anythin’ Paul. We met the man here in an alleyway. He could beat ya up quicker than any of the lads in Liverpool ever did.” George joked and Paul agreed.
The band stomped out their cigarettes and headed back inside seeing there was about fifteen minutes left until the show.
“Here, mate. For ya girl. You’ll be the best boyfriend in the country.”
Ringo handed Bucky his lighter as the band made their way back inside for their sound check. They left as soon as they came and Bucky was again alone in the alleyway.
Leaning back against the wall, Bucky pinched himself. That couldn’t have just happened. He couldn’t have just shared smokes with the band. The lighter in his hand was proof enough that the event had actually happened but he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
You’re no better than those groupies inside, idiot.
Bucky chided himself as opened the door back into the venue in a daze.
-
“I’m glad you made it back in time! You had me worried there for a second!”
Y/N laughed as Bucky silently approached her from his smoke break. Sensing something wasn’t quite right, she turned her full attention onto her boyfriend. His eyes were squinted, straight ahead and had a bit of blush to his cheeks.
“Buck… are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
He remained silent for a while longer, fiddling with something in his hands. Frustrated because she felt like he wasn’t paying attention to her, Y/n snatched out whatever was in Bucky’s hands. She inspected the silver lighter that he’d been holding, reading the engravement R.S. on the lid.
“Buck, answer me please-”
“I think I just met the Beatles.”
“WHAT!?!?”
-
Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for any mistakes/things that don’t sound write. My writing may be a little rough around the edges. Requests are always open!
19 notes · View notes
minijenn · 5 years
Text
Universe Falls Chapter 67
AHHHHH TIME FOR MY LOVELY DIAMOND TO FINALLY SHINE!!!! But for reals I really like how this chapter turned out. ESPECIALLY towards its ending like holy shit things gonna go down and I am super hype for it all. Anyway, I won’t keep ya from it any longer than I need to. Enjoy!
Previous: (lol I forgot to post Peridot and Pacifica on here oh well too lazy to do it now bleh) 
***
Chapter 67: Message Received
AFRRS, LGKUQ, FRBSGR, MBR TSAUI GDCA B RWKMZ HUSOFI UB GCBCW WTS KNJTK YBCB GIE WEDHV'F EEEMES HB DUL LQFGRMF XVAA DNJNXYX HWRT
It was an absolutely perfect summer evening. The low-arching sun splashed its warm, dying light across the vast grassy fields, casting long yet lofty shadows that almost seemed to dance across the barn’s weathered surface. A light, gentle breeze skimmed over the acres of farmland, as cricket songs began to echo throughout the hills, even as far as the open, forested valley where Gravity Falls sat far below. And this picturesque view was what the Gems were silently, contentedly enjoying, happy to have a much-earned moment’s rest after a long day at work on the drill. Though Ford had kept to the barn to work on a few odds and ends during this evening break, the kids readily joined in on it as they reclined up against Lion, easily relaxing as Steven strummed a pleasant tune on his ukulele. The trio would have been more than happy to let this peaceful scene continue for as long as possible, but of course, it all too quickly came to an end thanks to the interruption from a certain miffed green Gem.
“Ahem…” Peridot huffed as she stood over the kids. Her hands were positioned on her hips, a power drill clenched tightly in her grip from the work she was clearly intent on continuing.
“Oh, hi, Peridot!” Steven greeted her blithely.
“Welp, I knew this was too good to be true,” Dipper sighed sardonically as he sat up a bit. “What do you want, Peridot?”
“I want to know why we stopped working on the drill!” the green Gem scowled impatiently, nodding over to the Gems still watching the sunset several feet away. “Why are they just sitting there looking at nothing!?”
“Aw, Peri, we’re all just taking a nice little break,” Mabel grinned brightly.
“…A what?”
“We’ve all been working hard and we deserve to take it easy for a bit,” Steven explained. “I mean, just look at that view. It’s beautiful!”’
“It’s going to be blown to oblivion by the Cluster if we don’t get back to work!” Peridot countered crossly.
“Yeesh, tell us something we don’t know for a change,” Dipper remarked with something of a wry, knowing smirk.
“Working hard is important,” Steven added, still smiling calmly. “But feeling good is important too!”
“Yep,” Mabel soundly agreed. “Looks like you still need to learn about one more super important Earth concept, Peri. It’s called… ‘treat yo self’!”
“What are you talking about?!” Peridot fussed, thoroughly annoyed as she accidentally turned the power drill on.
“Hey!” Steven perked up upon hearing the buzzing drill. “What is that, a C?” The young Gem copied the noise on his ukulele, strumming a simple C chord that did, in fact, mimic the buzzing of the drill itself.  
“The drill?” Peridot raised a confused eyebrow, looking to the tool in her hand.
“Yeah!” Steven nodded, rising to his feet as Peridot pressed the drill up to an even faster speed. Or rather, an even higher note. “Oh my gosh! Now its music!”
“Whoa! It sorta is!” Mabel gasped, amazed.
“Only Steven could hear music in something like a power drill,” Dipper chuckled, amused.
“‘Music’?” Peridot asked. “What’s that?”
“Whaaaaa?! You don’t know what music is?!” Mabel exclaimed, aptly baffled. “Oh, girl, you are missing out!”
“Look, its like this,” Steven positioned his ukulele before strumming out a simple scale and singing along. “Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do!”
“Do, mi, so, do…?” Peridot repeated, clearly not following.
“Isn’t it pretty?” the young Gem sang, still singing along.
“That’s exceedingly simple,” the green Gem snarked, though she still mused on the beguiling process all the same. “Do, mi, so, it…”
“We’re making music.”
“What’s the point?” Peridot said, crossing her arms.
“The point, is… its fun!” Mabel chimed in, singing a bright note of her own in tune with Steven’s strumming.
“But why even bother?” the green Gem shook her head. “You’re not even making anything!”
“Well, if it isn’t anything, then why does it sound so good?” Steven asked with a good-natured shrug.
“I suppose its just interest, do, mi, so, do,” Peridot theorized as the young Gem kept his lighthearted tune going. “Devoid of substance or purpose, a hypothetical pattern… do, mi, so, ti… For the satisfaction of bringing it to completion!”
“…Sure,” Steven agreed, even if he didn’t really know what she was talking about.
“Should we tell her music isn’t usually that deep?” Dipper asked Mabel, aside.
“Eh, let her have her sciencey fun,” Mabel shrugged.
“Do, mi, so, it… Interest without meaning?” Peridot posed, surprised by such an odd train of thought. One that largely went against everything she had ever known back on Homeworld, much like everything else on Earth as a whole. “Solutions without problems…?”
“And then you just add words,” Steven said, gearing up for a proper song. “Here’s what I’ve been working on. Life and death and love and birth and peace and war on the planet Earth.” The melody was light and bouncy, carrying a message of the immense complexities and contradictions of the planet it was about, a theme that was not lost on Mabel, Dipper, or even Peridot as they all listened intently. “Is there anything that’s worth more than peace and love on the planet Earth, oh-whoooa, come on and sing it with me!”
“Sing?” Peridot repeated, still completely lost.
“The words relate to the key!”
“Key?!” the green Gem asked, even more baffled as she held a small key she had found in the barn up.
“If it’s a pattern, if it’s a pattern, than just repeat after me,” Steven encouraged, nodding over to the twins in the hopes that they’d do the same. Mabel was quick to jump on the offer first as she joined the young Gem in a brief duet. “Life and death and love and birth-”
“L-Life and death and love and birth,” Peridot attempted, albeit a bit shakily. After all, she had never really sung before, and until now, she had never had a reason to.
“C’mon, bro-bro, join in!” Mabel urged her brother in an excitable whisper. “Our plan is working!”
“First of all, you guys didn’t start this whole music thing off with any sort of ‘plan’,” Dipper retorted before finally breaking down into a small, if not somewhat flustered smile. “B-but, fine, just this once.”
“Now, you sing mi, fa, mi, mi, fa, mi, ti, la!” Steven instructed Peridot, who followed along easy enough as all four of them finished the chorus on a high, harmonious note.
“And peace and war on the planet Earth!”
“Ahhh! That sounded so good!” Mabel cheered happily. “Looks like its time to bring Love Patrol Alpha outta retirement with its brand new member, Peri!”
“I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean,” Peridot remarked dryly. “But what I do know is that was so easy,” she finished, as if suspicious by that fact.
“Yeah, but that’s what’s so fun about it!” Steven nodded, still strumming. “You should write something—you should write a song!”
“About what?”
“Whatever you’re thinking!”
While Peridot still didn’t largely understand the functional purpose of music or songs, she decided to take the young Gem up on this challenge and do exactly that. Making use of the rhyming patterns and lyrical progression similar to Steven’s song, the green Gem spent the rest of the evening crafting out her tune. A tune that, once it reached what she believed to be a satisfactory standard, she decided to present to not just the kids, but the other Gems and Ford as well that night around the fire.
“I guess we’re already here,” she began, standing before the collective group as they all listened in, intrigued and also slightly confused by the green Gem, of all people, suddenly bursting into song. “I guess we already know. We’ve all got something to fear, we’ve all got nowhere to go-”
Admittedly, the message of her melody was a bit disconcerting, or at least it was to the Gems as it reminded them of the dire straits they were up against when it came to the Cluster. Still, Steven, Mabel, and even Dipper nodded Peridot their silent encouragement as she carried on with the rest of her undoubtably passionate preformance.
“I think you’re all INSANE!” she accused truthfully. For certainly, a group of Gems and humans so dedicated to preserving a planet as bizarre and outlandish as Earth had to be out of their right minds. But then again, Peridot couldn’t claim to be much better, given the same goal they were all working towards together. “But I guess I am too… Anybody would be if they were stuck on Earth with you!”
A round of genuinely amused chuckles from the others followed suit, one that Peridot couldn’t help but take pride over, especially as Mabel and Steven both cheered her on even further. On Homeworld, such a display of pointless, aimless expression would have been scoffed off at best, punishable for at worst. But here, on Earth, this sort of thing was welcome, accepted, commonplace even. It was so strange, so unlike anything the green Gem had ever known that she couldn’t help but appreciate it all in some odd way. Because here, there were no expectations or set standards about what a Gem, or a human for that matter, could do or be. Here, anyone could do or say or think anything they wanted. Here, anyone and, at least as far as she’d seen, everyone was free.
“Life and death and love and birth and-”
Peridot remained slightly mystified by this newfound revelation as the next several days carried on, progress on the drill going sound and steady. The large number of hands on the project certainly made the work much lighter for everyone, as they all had their assigned tasks to carry out in inching towards its completion.
“Life and death and love and birth and-”
Over the course of the drill’s construction, Peridot had largely formed a steady rapport with all of the members of her once-tentative alliance. Amethyst was likely the first among these new bonds she had formed among the Crystal Gems at least. The purple Gem was, at least in her opinion, crass and loud and far too outspoken and brazen for her own good, especially considering the solid soldier status she had originally been created for. But gradually the green Gem had found herself growing used to Amethyst’s playful jabs and ridiculous quips, to the point that she could easily say that she respected her for the Gem she was rather than the Gem she had been made to be.
“Life and death and love and birth and peace and war on the planet earth.”
Peridot couldn’t deny that she had been forced to more or less swallow her pride when it came to her dealings with Pearl and Ford. The fact that each of them had an acute, impressive intellect that clearly rivaled her own was a bitter pill to swallow, but one that the green Gem largely had all the same. And in wake of her former bitterness towards the pair, she had found they actually had quite a bit in common, particularly when it came to their shared affinity for technology and science. Over just a few weeks, Peridot had gone from coldly shunning any tips or advice they had to offer on these fronts, to eagerly joining in the exchange of knowledge alongside the author and the white Gem, her former prejudices against them all but forgotten.
“Is there anything that’s worth more?”
It had largely taken Peridot the most time to grow accustomed to Garnet out of anyone else. On Homeworld, fusion between two entirely different types of Gems was a massive taboo, so the Gem leader’s very existence had originally offended the green Gem for reasons she found she wasn’t able to explain. It had taken her quite a bit of time to look past that singular fact, but once she had, she was actually able to see that Garnet was more than just the fusion that composed her existence. The Gem leader was brave, stable, sensible, and most of all patient, even with Peridot and all of her harsh words and sneers and insults she had once had for her and her teammates. And, when push came to shove, that was something Peridot wasn’t about to ignore, even despite however the rest of Homeworld would think of a Gem such as her.
“Is there anything that’s worth more?”
Limited as they were when it came to more of the heavy lifting, the kids still pitched in as much as they could. Since Dipper was largely able to keep up with Pearl and Ford and even Peridot when it came to the scientific side of the drill’s construction, that’s where most of his contributions were found. Steven and Mabel were less versed in the technicalities of the machine, but what they lacked in knowledge, they made up for in helpful enthusiasm. While Peridot had initially callously rebuffed their meager assistance, over time she had gradually come to accept it, perhaps even welcome it when it came to tasks that were too much for her to handle on her own. Overall, the concept of ‘friendship’ was still a new one to her, one that she only really had the information provided to her by Steven and Mabel to go off of. But if what she’d heard of it truly was correct, than it was safe to say that, like it or not, she had come to make friends of just about all of them, as odd and impossible as that might have once seemed.
“Is there anything that’s worth more than peace and love on the planet earth?”
***
It had taken quite a bit of time and a tremendous amount of work, but after weeks of plentiful effort from everyone involved, the drill was finally complete. The entire group stood admiring their handiwork, which was admittedly quite impressive. Despite its notably small cockpit, the drill’s point was sharp and formidable, fortified by titan’s ore to the point that there was no doubt it’d be able to penetrate the surface of the earth easily and safely. And hopefully, this machine, the product of their teamwork and determination, would be enough to end the threat that the Cluster posed to the planet Earth once and for all.
“Nice work,” Garnet congratulated Peridot in particular, giving the green Gem a friendly pat on the back for her hard work. It was enough to startle Peridot though, to the point that she flinched and took up a brief defensive stance, eliciting a collective amused laugh from the others.
“W-we really did it, huh?” Peridot asked, turning towards the drill with something of a small, proud smile.
“We?!” Steven gasped with sudden delight over the ongoing comradery.
“Heck yeah we did!” Mabel cheered, pulling out her camera. “C’mon, everyone get in close! My scrapbook just won’t be complete without a picture of our awesome drill!”
The others all gladly obliged as they bunched in together in front of the drill, all of them smiling (save for Peridot, who was rather confused as to what was going on in general) while Mabel snapped the photo. A memento that would be sure to memorialize their success long after the Cluster was gone and the drill had fulfilled its purpose.
“It is quite impressive, isn’t it?” Ford mused with a grin, looking back at the drill. “And with such a quick turn-around time too! Then again, I suppose we had no choice but to be quick with this, given the circumstances…”
“Oh wait!” Peridot interjected. “That reminds me, I need to check something!” The green Gem hurried over to the drill, rummaging around inside its cockpit as the others stood by, their spirits still collectively high over the machine’s completion.
“She’s come so far…” Steven noted happily, looking over towards Peridot from afar. “It feels like just yesterday that she was fusing with Bill and trying to kill us…”
“No, no,” Pearl shook her head. “That was several week ago.”
“Still, it really doesn’t feel like it was that long ago…” Dipper said just as thoughtfully. “Its kinda crazy to think that that Peridot used to be this Peridot,” he grinned as he nodded over to the green Gem, who clumsily face-planted after falling off of the drill before frantically running back over to the group.
“Coordinates!” Peridot shouted starkly. “We still need the Cluster’s exact coordinates in order to drill to it!”
“Uh, don’t we already know where it is?” Mabel asked with a confused frown. “It’s buried suuuuuper deep underground, right? Which means we could just bam!” She punched her fist dramatically, making a brief drilling noise as she did. “Drill right on down there and kiss that big bad Cluster goodbye!”
“Theoretically, yes, but I understand Peridot’s concern,” Ford agreed. “Regardless of how massive the Cluster might be, we’ll still need to know just how far down past the surface of the Earth it is. But who knows how we’d even access that information in the first place?”
“A-actually…” Pearl spoke up, apparently apprehensive as she averted eye contact with the others. “There’s a Diamond Base that may have those coordinates, but…. Getting there is going to be difficult.”
“How come?” Steven asked.
“Because its not accessible by warp pad. And it’s on….” The white Gem trailed off, directing her gaze, as well as everyone else’s to the bright nightly orb far above them all.
“The moon?!” Steven, Mabel, and even Dipper asked in awestruck unison.
“Yes, the moon,” Pearl replied rather flatly.
“Uh, how are supposed to get all the way up there?” Amethyst asked, hands on her hips. “I mean, we can jump pretty high, but I don’t think any of us can jump that high.”
“Hm, I suppose we have no choice but to construct a lighter-than-air spacecraft,” Ford concluded staunchly. “I’ve never really dabbled too much in advanced interstellar aeronautics before, but as far as I’m concerned, there’s never a bad time to learn!”
“Uh, actually, we’ve sorta been there, done that with the whole build-your-own-rocket thing, Great Uncle Ford…” Dipper pointed out. “It… didn’t really go all that well…”
“Wait, I know!” Steven exclaimed, turning to his pink feline companion as he snoozed peacefully in the grass nearby. “Lion! Can you make us a super special warp to the moon?”
Despite the young Gem’s enthusiasm, Lion responded dully, letting out a long yawn before rolling over to continue his nap. “Come on, Lion, we gotta do this to stop the Cluster!” Steven urged, flopping down on top of his still-sleeping pet. “If we don’t there’s gonna be no more Earth! No more fun times with your pal Waddles… no more Lion Lickers… no more naps-”
Apparently, this plea was somehow enough to call the pink beast to action, for he instantly perked up, rising from his nap as his eyes took on a pale white glow. While the others looked to Lion at absolute amazement at this shift, Steven simply stood by with a satisfied grin over his pet’s eventual compliance. “Guess it was naps.”
“Um, not that this moon trip doesn’t sound cool and all,” Dipper spoke up, aptly hesitant. “But how exactly are we supposed to breathe up there? I mean, I know its not a big deal to you guys,” he said to the Gems. “But its sort of important for the rest of us…”
“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that, Dipper,” Pearl assured. “The Moon Base has its own self-contained adaptable internal atmosphere that should be perfectly livable for any human.”
“Wow, Pearl, you sure do know a lot about this Moon Base place,” Mabel remarked with a curious grin. “Have you ever been there before?”
The white Gem let out a rather sharp, forced laugh at this, tension rising in her shoulders as she quickly rebuffed the question. “W-who me? D-don’t be silly, of course not! I-I’ve only ever… heard about it! T-that’s why I know so much about it!” The others all gave her something of a confused look at this haphazard outburst, but once again, Pearl deflected them all before any further questions could be posed. “N-now come on! We haven’t a moment to waste! Let’s get those coordinates!”
Since no one could really argue with such a vigorous command, the group was quick to follow after the white Gem to do exactly that. It took some doing, planning, and careful squeezing to fit everyone onto Lion (or in several cases, into his mane) all at the same time, but eventually they managed to figure it out. The pink beast hardly seemed labored by his many passengers as he instantly broke into a rapid sprint. His speed only seemed to pick up with each quick step he made across the wide fields until, suddenly, he let out an immense, mighty roar. The pounding sound was enough to pierce a hole into the very fabric of space itself, creating a large, glowing portal that he barreled into at top speeds. Lion’s large group of riders all held on for dear life, with only Steven and Mabel really enjoying the breakneck, wild trip as the pink beast roared another portal into existence. He continued this is steady succession, somehow increasing his speed each time as he ripped through each and every portal like a bolt of lighting across a stormy sky. Eventually, the collection of continuous portals became so radiantly bright that it practically blinded all of them, especially as they neared their destination. And once they did, everything seemed to finally stop all at once.
The space they landed in was large and dark, though none of them had a chance to take it in as Lion crashed out of his final portal, sliding across the floor before slamming into a far wall and knocking the Gems and Ford clean off his back. “Lion! Are you ok, bud?” Steven gasped, immediately alarmed to see that the impact had knocked the wind out of his pink pet. Fortunately though, Lion seemed no worse for wear as he took a much-needed moment to rest in light of all of the power he had just exerted.
“Aw, you poor baby!” Mabel gushed, generously rubbing the pink beast’s mane. “Who’s a good magical portal-maker? You are! You are!”
“I-incredible…” Ford mused, adjusting his glasses as he picked himself up off the ground. “I knew that lion was unusual, but I could have never guessed it was capable of something like this. Clearly, I’ll have to do more research on him in order to-” The author was quick to retract the hand he had extended out to Lion as the pink beast growled in warning protest. “O-on second thought, I suppose that could always wait for… some other time.”
“We made it,” Pearl spoke up, her tone serious as her gemstone emitted a bright light for them all to see by. Sure enough, the peaceful nighttime landscape of the farmlands were gone, replaced by cold sterile walls and floors that clearly hadn’t been touched in ages. Each of the rounded walls were adorned with what looked to be large murals, though without direct light upon them, it was hard to make out exactly what they were supposed to be of.
“Huh, weird…” Dipper mused, glancing around curiously. “You know, I sort of expected the moon to look more like… I dunno, the moon?”
“Well it sure is bouncy like the moon is supposed to be!” Mabel chimed in, taking advantage of the lack of gravity to take a high, unfettered leap into the air. “Come on, bro-bro, you’ve got to try this!”
“Mabel, I don’t know if that’s such a good—w-whoa!” Dipper gasped in alarm as Mabel suddenly yanked him up into the air along with her before sending him spinning freely high above the ground, despite his best attempts to anchor himself back to the ground.
“Hah! Look at me!” Steven chimed in, joining in on the anti-gravity antics as he let himself float freely. “I’m a moon boy!”
“Yeah! Alright, moon boy!” Amethyst cheered him on, leaping to join the kids up in the air, only to end up falling right back to the ground instead. “Hey! Why can’t I be a moon boy?!”
“We’re Gems,” Peridot pointed out with a scoff. “We’re a space-faring race designed to conquer other worlds. Our physical forms adjust automatically to the gravity of any planetoid.”
“Aww… lame,” the purple Gem groaned, sticking her tongue out in disappointment. Right behind her, Dipper and Mabel softly landed on the floor in a jumbled heap of limbs as Ford hurried over to help them up, all while trying to stay grounded himself.
“You know, it just occurred to me that I probably should have told Stanley we were going to the moon…” the author noted as he carefully pulled his nibblings up to stand. “…Ah well, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Uh… yeah…” Dipper said, exchanging an uneasy glance with Mabel as they remembered just how harshly the conman had reacted to their last attempt at a trip to the stars. “We… probably shouldn’t tell him about this, just… just ‘cause.”
“I was bouncin’ on the moon one day!” Steven sang brightly as he continued free-floating, only to end up smacking into one of the walls and hitting the ground a moment later. He let out a small groan as he picked himself up off the floor, only to spot the large mural of what looked like a tall, elegant woman on the wall beside him. “Huh? Hey, Peridot! Who’s this supposed to be?”
The green Gem gasped as she shined the light of her own gemstone up at the mural, recognizing the blue, cloaked, graceful figure well. “It’s Blue Diamond!” she exclaimed, taking on an air of immediate reverence before the massive mural. “W-wait! Are they all here? Ah, yes!” Peridot rushed over to the far side of the chamber, where another similar depiction of a different, but still just as regal figure, awaited. “There she is!”
“There who is?” Mabel inquired curiously as her and Dipper joined the pair before mural.
“Behold!” Peridot proclaimed dramatically as she threw an arm out at the stern, stately woman on the wall before her. “Yellow Diamond! Isn’t she magnificent?”
“Uh… sure…” Dipper deadpanned, not particularly impressed.
“Whoa…” Mabel mused, much more fascinated. “She has a really long neck. Like a giraffe!”
“W-wha—you can’t just say something like that about the Yellow Diamond!” Peridot chastised, offended. “Whatever a so-called ‘giraffe’ is…”
“So, who are the Diamonds anyway?” Steven asked. “They seem like a pretty big deal.”
“Are you joking me?!” Peridot scoffed. “The Diamonds are the Gem matriarchs! Together, they make up the Great Diamond Authority that governs Homeworld and all the outlying colonies. We live to serve them!”
The green Gem’s explanation was cut short from a disgruntled hum from Garnet. The Gem leader stood over them, her expression cold and disapproving, a look that both Pearl and Amethyst shared. Even Ford seemed to be bitterly averting his gaze away from the Diamond murals for some reason, making it quite apparent that not everyone seemed to share Peridot’s high opinion of them. “I-I mean…” she recanted with a bit of an anxious laugh. “We were all made to serve them, even if some of us… don’t anymore.” A beat of awkward silence passed at this, though Peridot was quick to fill it by hastily changing the topic altogether. “H-hey! I think that’s a control service over there! Let’s take a look!”
Steven and Mabel readily hurried after the green Gem, curious to see more of the mysterious Moon Base. Dipper, however, did stop short to steal just another somewhat distrustful glance at the visage of Yellow Diamond on the wall before him before moving on with the others. Likewise, Garnet and Pearl in particular exchanged something of an uneasy glance before turning away, both of them knowing all too well exactly who the Diamonds were and what they were capable of.
“I think this is right…” Peridot muttered, examining a nearby panel on the floor. “The material is different from the surrounding stone. If I just do this…” She trailed off, pressing the panel, which in turn, emerged from the ground, alongside several others to create something of a floating staircase all around the edges of the base’s central chamber. The green Gem let out a bright giggle at her discovery, beside herself with excitement over getting to see a space that so few other Gems would ever have the chance to visit.
“This is so incredible!” Peridot gushed as they began making their way up the long, winding staircase. “Only the most elite of the elite can enter these sanctums. We are literally walking in the footsteps of the Diamonds!”
“They must really like stairs,” Steven pointed up as he bounded up them.
“Ooo, what’s this cool glowy orb room?” Mabel asked as they passed through to a higher part of the tower. Sure enough, the room was engulfed in darkness, its only notable feature being the large, rotating spherical light floating in the center of it, its purpose more or less completely unknown.
“Its not what we came here for,” Garnet said sternly, pressing on ahead.
“Can we hurry it up?” Amethyst asked with a huff of impatience. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Since they had get to get what they’d come here for in the first place, no one protested as they finished scaling the lengthy floating stairway, only to finally emerge at the tower’s top. Compared to the base they had arrived in, this deck’s walls were composed almost entirely of clear class windows, giving an open, grand view of the lunar landscape surrounding the structure. The pale, cratered surface of the moon stretched far and wide in every direction, the dark, star-speckled expanses of space itself hanging high above. It was an incredible view, to put it simply, one that the kids all took in with apt awe as they took a moment to pause and take it all in.
“W-we really are on the moon…” Steven practically whispered, completely stunned.
“I can’t believe it…” Dipper shook his head, just as amazed. “I mean, talking about it is one thing, but… we’re actually here, like its nothing. This is totally insane and honestly? I love it!”
“So do I!” Steven quipped, sharing Dipper’s bright smile.
“Ah, I wish I could join in on the excitement you boys are feeling,” Ford said wistfully as he put a hand on each of their shoulders. “But after traversing countless dimensions far beyond the realms of plausible imagination, the surface of the moon is… relatively underwhelming by comparison.”
“Oh my goodness!” Peridot suddenly squeaked, catching everyone’s attention. The others all joined her near the large white throne at the center of the room, coupled by a pristine table surface resting before it. “This looks like it could be brand new!” the green Gem exclaimed, running her hands over the table. “I mean, it’s a relic by today’s standards, but golly! Its so elegant! So simple! So perfect!”
“Ooo! And it makes a great whiteboard too!” Mabel quipped as she drew a smiley face onto the otherwise spotless surface with a marker she had happened to bring, much to Peridot’s horror.
“Stop that this instant!” the green Gem huffed, snatching the pen away from her. “You’re desecrating an important tool of the Diamonds themselves! Do you have any idea how disrespectful that is?!”
“…Huh. Well, disrespectful or not, it does brighten things up a little in here,” Mabel said, taking on a wide grin to match the smile she had drawn on the table. “See?”
“No,” Peridot deadpanned sullenly.
“Hey! Its got one of those glowy hand dealies!” Steven pointed out from his spot on the throne behind them.
“Y-you can’t sit there!” Peridot chastised hotly.
“Why not? Its really cool.”
“That chair is only for the most elite Gems,” the green Gem explained, exasperated. “You can’t just go around sitting where an elite would sit!”
“Well, they aren’t here now, right?” Steven grinned, patting on the ample space next to him on the throne. Peridot hesitated in taking him up on his offer before finally folding, climbing up to join him and laughing in spite of herself over the forbidden pleasure of the act.
“So, uh, what’s this thing supposed to be?” Dipper asked, casually plucking a pale, crystal-like object embedded on the chair’s armrest.
“Put that back!” Peridot fussed before turning her attention to the other controls the throne had to offer. “Hm, ok… let’s see here…” The green Gem experimentally pressed a button, which brought the throne much closer to the control panel, allowing her to properly activate it and begin searching through its holographically projected screens for the data they needed. “Ugh, this is a really old system…” she noted to the others as she began picking through what the panel had to offer. “Just gotta find the right file and… aha!” The projection filled with various graphs, maps, and other information, all of which clearly regarded the Cluster, which Peridot readily translated out for all the others. “There’s the insertion point. Looks like the Beta Kindergarten in Facet Nine. It’s the smaller of the two, not nearly as impressive as yours, Amethyst.”
“Uh… thanks?” the purple Gem shrugged dully.
“But where is the Cluster now?” Pearl asked, a hint of urgency in her tone.
“Hang on… oh! There it is!” A diorama popped up, depicting the vague shape of the Cluster itself, buried deep under the surface of the Earth. Where it would hopefully remain until their drill finally put an end to it. “It’s embedded deep into the mantle. Relative to the barn is roughly two thousand, five hundred units down. All we need to do is feed this data to the drill and we should be all set.”
“T-that’s it then!” Pearl said, pleasantly surprised. “Mission accomplished!”
“Go team!” Steven cheered brightly over their success.
“Huh, its not often that something like this goes this smoothly,” Dipper noted. “Weird.”
“Weird or not, let’s get the heck outta here,” Amethyst remarked, already leading the way back towards the stairs. “The moon is way more boring than I thought it’d be.”
“Wait! Maybe it doesn’t have to be!” Mabel chimed in, glancing back over the control panel. “Hey, Peri, does this thing have any games on it? Or movies?”
“Pfft, no,” Peridot scoffed. “This wasn’t used for ‘games’ or ‘movies’. It was used for planning the colony. Here, look.” The green Gem activated another file, which just so happened to catch the dwindling attention of the others as they looked over the projection of the planet Earth before them. “So here’s a map of all structures that were originally built on Earth,” Peridot scrolled through a list of the blueprints for structures that included the Galaxy Warp, the Kindergarten, and several others. “All told, this probably only accounts for maybe five percent of what was originally planned.”
“What was the plan?” Steven asked, somewhat apprehensive to find out.
“Well, let’s take a look.” With a single press of a button, the holographic Earth rapidly deteriorated, massive gaps cutting through its surface, its landmasses ruined and its oceans drained, replaced by an inhospitable mess of a planet conquered by Gems and Gems alone. A horrific sight to everyone present, given its implications. All except for, unsurprisingly, Peridot. “Ta da! A finished Earth colony!” she exclaimed proudly. “Just look at this! 89 Kindergartens, 67 spires, a Galaxy Warp in each facet, efficient use of all available materials! What were you thinking shutting this operation down? It could have been great!”
“No!” Garnet exclaimed suddenly, sharply. “You’re wrong!”
“What are you talking about?” Peridot sneered, baffled. “Its perfect! Look at it!”
“We are looking at it,” Pearl said coldly.
“Yeah! This plan stinks!” Amethyst huffed, properly angry.
“Completing this colony would have meant the extinction of all life on Earth!” Garnet said, just as upset by indeed, what could have been.
“And I thought Cipher’s intentions for the Earth were bad…” Ford muttered to himself, shaking his head. “This is… well, I don’t know if I’d say its worse, but I’d certainly say its arguably just as terrible.”
“Seriously…” Dipper shuddered in fearful disgust. “I mean, we knew Homeworld was awful, but this… this is on a whole other level…”
“Well, it could have been on a whole other level,” Peridot remarked rather callously. “If it had actually been allowed to reach its full potential. Think of the good it could have done! The Gems that would’ve been made, our empire expanded!”
“And all that would have been lost along with it…” Pearl continued bitterly, shamefully. “Rose Quartz believed all life was precious and worth protecting. That’s why she risked everything to stop this colony from happening!”
“Well, if she wanted to protect it, she did a lousy job!” Peridot argued back haughtily. “There’d be no Cluster if the Earth had stayed a colony. Now there’s no colony, and there’s gonna be no Earth. So thank you, Rose Quartz! You doomed the planet!”
A thick cloud of hostile tension pierced the air at this, outraged silence remaining in light of the green Gem’s snide, thoughtless remarks. Wishing for the completion of Homeworld’s twisted, destructive plans for Earth were one thing; but mocking Rose and her bravery and sacrifice was something that Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and even Ford, all of whom had known her personally while Peridot had not, could not simply ignore. Their sharp, furious glares were focused entirely on the green Gem alone, something that the kids instantly noticed more than Peridot did herself. And while Dipper couldn’t really find that much of a reason to rush to the green Gem’s defense after everything she’d just said, Steven and Mabel tried to all the same.
“Heh, aw, y-you guys know Peri!” Mabel shrugged, laughing nervously. “Always sayin’ wacky stuff she totally doesn’t really mean… right?”
“What?” Peridot countered, confused and clearly not about to recant her stance.
“Y-yeah!” Steven rushed to chime in and quell the swelling anger from his guardians in particular. “A-after all, don’t forget: I-is there anything that’s worth more tha-”
The young Gem instantly went silent the moment Garnet snatched Peridot up from her seat by the front of her uniform, keeping a tight grip as she stared down at her with unseen, untold amounts of ferocity. “You,” she began, her voice edged with tranquil rage as the green Gem’s frightened image reflected back at her through the Gem leader’s visor. “Listen to me. Now. You are talking about things that you do not understand.”
Steven gasped the moment he saw a gauntlet materialize around the Gem leader’s free hand, and even though he didn’t agree with the green Gem’s poor choice of words and actions, he knew he couldn’t allow this hostility to continue any further. “Garnet, stop!” he pleaded fearfully. “P-please, its… its not worth it. We’re done here; we got what we came for. L-let’s just… go home…”
Acting upon the young Gem’s nearly tearful request and nothing else, Garnet did as he said, loosening her grip on Peridot and allowing her to clumsily fall to the floor. And then, in a single swift, powerful swing, the Gem leader brought her gauntlet down upon the control panel before her, smashing it—as well as the last remnants of the fortunately failed colony it contained—beyond all hope of repair. Without a word, the Gems turned to leave the same way they’d came, Ford joining them as they all turned their back on the green Gem, on the moon base, on everything they knew Rose had fought so hard to stop in its tracks.
“Tch, figures you still haven’t really learned anything,” Dipper was the first to speak up as he also prepared to leave, though not before sending one final, clearly disappointed remark Peridot’s way. “Even still, after all this time. Honestly, I can’t even say I’m surprised, knowing you.”
“Aw, come on, Dipper,” Mabel hurried after him as he turned on his heel and walked off. “That’s not fair and you know it!”
“What’d I say?” Peridot asked as the twins left. “I was just stating a fact. The rebellion didn’t really ‘save’ Earth, it just delayed the inevitable.”
Steven sighed upon hearing this, partially taking up Dipper’s line of reasoning that, even after all this time and everything that had happened, Peridot was still just as stuck in her stubborn ways as ever. “That’s not the way they see it,” he nodded after his guardians sadly. “They’ve spent thousands of years trying to protect the Earth. I thought… maybe… you finally understood why… But I guess… I guess I was wrong…” The young Gem sighed once more, shaking his head forlornly. He had thought Peridot had come so far, from the hand ship, from her time on the run, from Pyrite. He had thought she had grown and learned and come to appreciate the Earth and all it had to offer from her extended stay there. He had thought… that they all were finally, finally friends.
But in the end, none of that had mattered as much to Peridot as it had to him, clearly.
Steven only paused briefly at the foot of the platform the throne rested on, noticing that the green Gem hadn’t come down along with him. He knew they couldn’t very well leave her there, especially given they still had a mission to complete, and despite his rather mixed feelings about her at the moment, he still called up to her all the same. “Peridot!”
“What? I’m coming!” Peridot retorted, hurrying town the steps. Steven watched her silently as though he froze in sudden confusion upon catching the briefest flash of something in the green Gem’s hand as she passed him by. Something she hadn’t had when they arrived there, and something he knew, she clearly wasn’t supposed to have.
“Let’s go, you two,” Garnet called from the larger staircase and Peridot didn’t hesitate to hurry on ahead. Steven hesitated for another brief moment however, keeping his sights on the green Gem alone as he wondered with a sense of newfound worry and fledgling distrust exactly what it was she planned to do.
***
The trip back from the moon to the barn was silent and awkward, to say the least. After Peridot’s haughty remarks concerning the rebellion and Rose Quartz, neither the Gems nor Ford were too keen on carrying on any sort of conversation with the green Gem, despite the kids’ best efforts to break the thick tension. All the same, the collective group made it back to Earth aboard Lion safe and sound, carrying with them the final piece needed to complete their extensive work on the drill. A victory that, by all accounts, should have felt much more triumphant than it actually did.
“So how much longer ‘till we can use the drill?” Amethyst asked with a huff of impatience as they all gathered around said drill once more.
“Well, with the new coordinates we got from the Moon Base,” Pearl began. “It should be ready to go. But we really should preform some tests first…”
“Still, it stands to reason that we should be able to take it down to the Cluster itself within the next few days, at least,” Ford theorized, glancing up at the drill. “That is… if we even have that much time left.”
Despite the pertinence and importance of the ongoing discussion, Steven, Dipper, and Mabel were all only barely listening in on it. All three of them were preoccupied by a number of contrasting thoughts and feelings, from muted frustration on Dipper’s part, to fretful worry on Mabel’s, to growing suspicion on Steven’s. Suspicion that was entirely focused on one certain green Gem and the unknown device the young Gem had seen her secretly snatch away from the Moon Base.
In fact, in the last hour or so alone, Steven’s suspicion and apprehension had grown so much that he found he couldn’t really keep it to himself any longer. For all he knew, it could have very well been nothing, which was why he had decided against voicing his concerns to the Gems. So instead, he chose to confide in someone who was sure to both believe him and help him get to the bottom of things: the twins.
“Hey, can I talk to you guys for a second?” Steven whispered to Dipper and Mabel while everyone was still distracted with the drill. “A-alone?”
While neither of them knew where the clear dread in the young Gem’s tone was coming from, neither Dipper nor Mabel denied his request as they all slipped away to gather just shy of the barn’s entrance. As soon as they were out of the Gems’ earshot, Steven turned to them with a clear sense of urgency, one that caught them both off guard, even as he spoke his piece.
“I didn’t wanna worry the Gems or Mr. Ford, especially since we’re so close to being done with the drill,” he began, glancing down. “But… I-I think Peridot might be up to something.”
“What, you mean aside from offending everyone by wishing that the Earth had been hallowed from the inside out?” Dipper retorted somewhat sardonically.
Mabel, on the other hand, was much more genuine in her response. “W-what do you mean she’s up to something?” she asked, the slightest hint of fear in her tone. Fear that the green Gem could very well be slipping out of the progress she had made and back into her old, sinister ways.
“I… I saw her take something from the Moon Base while we were leaving,” Steven explained. “I’m not sure what it is, but… I just… I have a bad feeling about it.”
“Well, who can blame you?” Dipper said, crossing his arms. “Peridot pretty much just proved that she hasn’t changed a bit. Heck, for all we know, her trying to ‘get along’ with us could of just been one giant act this whole time. A way to trick us into thinking she’s ok before she comes in with another hairbrained attempt at destroying us so she can get back to Homeworld or something.”
“B-but then why would she work so hard to help us with the drill?” Mabel cut in, anxiously, earnestly. “Dipper, I know you’ve never really trusted Peridot, and I know Grunkle Ford and the Gems are all super miffed with her right now, b-but I don’t think she wants to hurt us or the Earth anymore! You even said so yourself: the Peridot we know now isn’t the same Peridot that first came to Earth or fused with Bill! She’s different than that; she’s better than that. I-isn’t that right, Steven?”
The young Gem was initially silent upon being met with this question, his indecisiveness being conveyed through his expression alone. “I-I… I really wanna believe that, Mabel…” he said sadly, averting both of the twins’ pressing gazes. “But… I just… I’m not…” He sighed, his mounting conflicting feelings towards the green Gem and her incriminating words and actions all becoming far too much to bear. “I… I just don’t know,” he finally answered truthfully. “Not anymore. I thought I did, but… I think we need to find out exactly what that thing she took from the Moon Base really was and why she grabbed it. J-just to make sure.”
Mabel let out a small, worried sigh at this, but all the same, she nodded her quiet agreement, even if she still dreaded what they might possibly find out. Dipper, on the other hand, was much more forward when it came to taking action concerning the green Gem where his sister was not. “Fair enough,” he consented evenly, though his cold expression softened as he glanced over at Mabel. “But… just in case we find something that… you—we may not like… I just… you guys know that we’ll… have to do something about it… right?”
Steven and Mabel exchanged a brief, equally despondent glance, both of them knowing this was absolutely true. If on the unthinkable chance that Peridot really was planning some underhanded scheme, it was their responsibility to put a stop to it, or at the very least inform the Gems about it. For all of the good will and camaraderie they had formed with the green Gem over the past several weeks, the thought that it could all fall apart in an instant had never really occurred to them. Until now, when it seemed as though there was a very high likelihood of that very thing happening.
On another nod of tight, terse agreement between the trio, they decided to make their move. Peridot hadn’t joined the others out near the drill, instead opting to carry on with her own, unknown devices inside the barn. It was there that the kids found her, her back turned to them as she apparently fiddled around with something, no doubt whatever she had taken from the Moon Base. She was quick to slip it away, however, the moment Steven spoke up to garnish her attention.
“Uh… Peridot?” he began, aptly apprehensive.
“Oh! Steven, Dipper, Mabel!” the green Gem gasped, startled as she spun around. “W-what are you three doing here?”
“We, uh… sorta need to talk to you, i-if that’s ok,” Mabel ventured, not making to much of an effort to hide her constant worry.
“Uh… s-sure!” Peridot agreed stiffly as she followed the kids inside of the cabin of the old, run-down truck parked inside of the barn. “Why are we in this broken-down vehicle?” the green Gem asked, genuinely confused.
“I don’t know,” Dipper said, sending her a cold, suspicious glare. “Why don’t you tell us?”
“…What?”
“Uh, a-actually,” Steven interjected as he glanced towards the hand Peridot was holding behind her back. The hand that held whatever secret she was trying her hardest to conceal from them all. “We wanted to ask you about… the Diamonds?”
“Oh!” the green Gem perked up instantly, excitement sparking in her eyes. “Well, I don’t know what the others have told you, but there’s a reason they’re in charge.”
“Oh yeah?” Dipper asked flatly, clearly not caring about this means to an end. “And why’s that?”
“Because they’re objectively better than us!” Peridot grinned brightly. “Every Gem has their own strengths and weaknesses, but not them. They’re absolutely, totally, completely flawless beings. Especially my Diamond: Yellow Diamond, the most perfect, the most reasonable, rational, efficient decider to ever exist in the universe!”
None of the kids really knew what to say concerning this, all of them knowing that Peridot’s incredibly high view of her matriarch was likely very biased. All the same, if her testimony concerning Yellow Diamond was anything, it was proof that the green Gem’s admiration for both her Homeworld and her Diamond still very much stood. “Y-you’re really loyal to her, aren’t you?” Steven asked, not masking his fledgling disappointment at this fact.
“How could I not be?” Peridot rebuffed. “We may have our little truce, but I’ll never forsake the Gem I was made for! And why would I? I mean, she’s an impeccable, impossibly wise powerhouse of a leader! E-even if she does actually happen to be in league with…”
“In league with who?” Mabel pressed, a newfound burst of hope filling her as she caught onto the smallest hint of doubt towards the Diamond filling the green Gem’s tone. But whatever that doubt might have been, Peridot was quick to shake it away in favor of her former adulation.
“O-oih, never mind, its nothing,” she scoffed with a wave of her hand. “J-just some ridiculous rumor I once heard from someone who is absolutely not a reliable source for anything. A rumor that certainly does not bear repeating, especially at the risk of my Diamond catching wind of it!”
“W-well then you better keep it down,” Steven said leadingly, seeing an opportunity and deciding to take it. “Because she’s right behind you!”
“What?!” Peridot gasped, spinning around in alarm and finally giving the young Gem a chance to swipe the crystal she was holding onto away from her. The green Gem barely even had time to react to the theft as the kids rushed out of the truck, slamming the door right in her face as she tried to scramble after them.
“Hey! What do you three think you’re doing!?” she shouted, banging on the window fiercely.
“What’s it look like?” Dipper countered just as harshly. “We’re shutting down whatever it is you had planned!”
“I-I didn’t have anything planned!” Peridot protested, though her bristling posture told otherwise. “Now let me out of here!”
“Save your strength,” Steven shook his head, holding the stolen crystal tight and close. “You’re up against one of Earth’s greatest trapping technologies: the child safety lock.”
“No!” Peridot wailed, sinking back into her seat dramatically. “How could you do this to me? The great and loveable Peridot!? I thought we were finally friends like you wanted!”
“We thought that too, Peridot…” Mabel frowned, genuinely upset. “But then…”
“But then I saw you sneak this off the Moon Base while nobody else was looking!” Steven filled in, his tone much more intense and angry than it usually was as he held the crystal up. “What is it? Tell us!”
“Hmph, its nothing special,” Peridot scowled at the trio from inside the truck. “And definitely not important at all.”
“Oh really?” Dipper asked challengingly, grabbing a hammer lying discarded on the floor as Steven readily held the crystal up to him in shared defiance towards the green Gem. “Well, if its not important, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if we just smash it, huh?!”
“NO!” Peridot practically shrieked before finally, sullenly relenting. “Ugh, all right, look. I have a plan. Allow me to explain. That’s a… communicator. Meant for the express purpose of contacting the Diamonds back on Homeworld.”
“What?!” Dipper asked sharply, so outraged and alarmed that he nearly brought the hammer down on the communicator right then and there until Steven pulled it away at just the right time.
“Y-you’re still trying to contact Homeworld?” the young Gem asked, horrified.
“Yes, of course I am!”
“B-but… but we thought you were finally starting to like it here on Earth!” Mabel exclaimed, desperate for proper answers where they really were none.
“Oh, you don’t get it,” Peridot countered evenly. “I’m not trying to leave, not anymore! Instead, I’ve got it all figured out. You simple clods keep trying to protect the Earth, but you can’t do anything right! I’ll admit I let myself get carried away too… laughing, singing, building our little machine… but don’t you see? None of that matters! What matters is that I can be of use to Yellow Diamond! This planet can be of use to Yellow Diamond! I must contact her, to reveal what I’ve discovered!”
“Are you actually serious right now!?” Dipper exclaimed in appalled disgust. “You said so yourself that the Diamonds were the ones who put the Cluster in the Earth in the first place! They’re the ones who want to see it destroyed now, just like they did with that whole colony plan we saw on the moon! You really think they’re gonna stop any of that now?”
“Oh, of course they will!” Peridot said, thoroughly confident in her plan. “If I could just have a chance to talk to Yellow Diamond, then I’m sure I can get her—as fair and reasonable as she’s known to be—to see that this planet could still be a viable asset to Homeworld’s empire. And what’s better is that once she sees things my way, the Cluster will certainly be shut down and the Earth saved. Isn’t that what all of you want?”
“Not like this we don’t!” Steven protested admantly. “Ugh… why do we keep sticking our necks out for you? You’re never gonna be on our side! Garnet! Amethyst! Pearl!” Upon calling out for his guardians, Steven raced off, Dipper trailing right after him so they could reveal Peridot’s heinous plan for what it truly was.
“No! Steven! Don’t get them!” Peridot shouted after them, pulling hard against the locked truck door until she happened to spot Mabel, still lingering beside it. “Mabel! You believe me, don’t you!? Then release me! Now!”
“P-Peri…” Mabel began quietly, tears of clear betrayal finally starting to well up in her eyes as she looked back at the green Gem. A Gem that, up until now, she really, truly had seen as a friend, regardless of everything she had said and done in the past. Even if that friendship had clearly meant nothing Peridot, despite her best, yet futile hopes otherwise.  “Peridot,” she said firmer, wiping away her tears to regard her sternly, yet still so sadly. “I… I’m sorry…” she said as she finally turned away, even though she was the one who had nothing to appologize for.
***
A round of shocked gasps rose from the Gems the instant Steven and Dipper presented the communicator to them. Even Ford balked at it, apparently familiar with the device somehow, even as Pearl took it and frantically reaffirmed what it was.
“S-she took a direct line to the Diamonds?!” the white Gem exclaimed in horrified disbelief. “From the Moon Base?! What was she thinking?!”
“She was ‘thinking’ that she was gonna use it to call Yellow Diamond so Homeworld could just come here and pick up right where they left off with that colony plan of this!” Dipper informed hotly. “And she almost got away with it if we hadn’t stopped her just in time.”
“And its certainly a good thing that you kids did,” Ford agreed, casting a bitter glance towards the barn. “To think that we spent so much time with her, but we never saw this sort of underlying treachery coming. Honestly, I thought that I’d at the very least be used to betrayals of this scale by now. In a way, its almost disappointing that I’m not.”
“Ugh, for reals, after everything we’ve gone through, she’s still out to get us!” Amethyst growled sharply. “That’s it! I’m takin’ back all my cool nicknames for her! So long P-dot and P-diddy, hello… AUGH! I’m too mad! I’ll think of something later!”
The round of incensed reactions to Peridot’s deception continued, even as the green Gem honked the truck’s horn almost constantly from her “prison” inside of the barn. Only Steven and Mabel paid any attention to it though, their expressions awash between disappointment, morose, and frustration all at the same time. “I see she knows what a horn is now…” the young Gem noted sourly.
“I’d been meaning to teach her that one…” Mabel sighed, turning away, forlorn.
“You two offered her a lot of your trust,” Garnet noted to the pair, her hands on her hips.
“We did!” Steven huffed. “And it blew up in our faces!”
“I just… maybe we thought that… if we could be her friends then maybe she’d finally stop trying to do all of the bad things she came here to do…” Mabel said, burring the bottom of her face inside of the collar of her sweater. “But I guess she was never really our friend after all, huh?”
“No, she wasn’t…” Steven concluded, shaking his head as he looked back to Garnet. “You guys have been protecting the Earth for thousands of years. She could’ve destroyed all that. I… I don’t know why we thought we could change her mind…”
“Oh, come on, you guys, none of this is your fault and you know that,” Dipper attempted to console the pair as he stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “You both always try to see the best in people, and I’ll admit, sometimes I just don’t get it. But then again, maybe its because I’m not able to see things the way you two do. You both tried your best to change Peridot for the better, and in the end it just… didn’t work, but that had nothing to do with either of you. Its just… sometimes you can’t really change what people think, no matter how hard you try.”
“But that’s just it,” Steven countered with a frown. “We don’t want to tell her what to do or what to think. She should just… know, shouldn’t she?”
“Steven…” Garnet began, her tone as steady as ever, though sympathy was clearly there as well. “You always believe in everyone. Like your mother, you seem to have a little more patience than the rest of us. That’s a trait you share too, Mabel. But on the same hand, Dipper’s also right. The truth is, not everyone deserves that patience.”
“Well, look on the bright side,” Pearl cut in with as much of an encouraging smile as she could muster. “At least you got this thing away from her before she could do any real damage.”
“Yeah…” Steven and Mabel both smiled at this, glad to know that, despite Peridot’s burning betrayal, in the grand scheme of things, the Earth would stay safe. Until…
A sudden explosion rattled the entire area, its center being the barn itself as one of its sides was effectively blown clean off. Everyone turned with apt alarm to see a familiar green robot bursting out of the building, leaving a trail of clear destruction in its wake as it stormed towards them, piloted by a manically laughing green Gem all the while. “Free! Freeeeedom!” Peridot proclaimed, making an obvious beeline towards them. Or more specifically, towards the communicator they now possessed instead of her.
“What?!” Ford exclaimed, quite surprised to see that Peridot and McGucket’s robot was still functional at all.
“H-how did she escape?!” Steven asked with newfound fear over the bot bounding their way. He quickly got an answer, however, as the green Gem’s bot chucked one of the truck’s doors towards them, only barely missing the kids as it landed hard in front of them.
“Fools!” Peridot shouted triumphantly. “Your invisible rotary shield was no match for me once I applied logic!”
“Yeah! Whatever little bit of logic you actually have!” Dipper taunted back, only for Ford to narrowly pull both him and Mabel out of the way of the rest of the truck Peridot launched at them in turn.
“Now, I’m going to do this right…” Peridot grinned, prepping her bot to take on the Gems as they rushed towards her, their weapons drawn for the fray. The green Gem lashed out, wasting no time on her opponents as she quickly knocked Garnet aside. The communicator passed hands between Pearl and Amethyst a number of times, but in the midst of their frantic tossing, Peridot managed to intervene, snatching the device away just before the white Gem could nab it. “See!?” the green Gem exclaimed, hitting both of the other Gems away just as they tried to steal it back. “None of you know what you’re doing!”
With the communicator finally in her grasp again, Peridot wasted no time in making a hasty retreat in order to get it out of everyone else’s range. However, none of the others were willing to let the green Gem go through with her alarming plans so easily.
“Ohhh, ok! I’ve been ready for this!” Amethyst exclaimed angrily, quickly shapeshifting her form into a sizable, functional helicopter. “Get in!” she shouted to the others, her tone fierce enough to curb any and all comments as they all piled into her surprisingly roomy cockpit.
“Oh, of all the times for me to leave my hyper-sonic magnetic propulsion gun at home,” Ford shook his head as he made sure the twins were secure in their seats. “That would have been more than enough to take Peridot and her robot out in a single shot. Then again, Fiddleford worked on that robot and he usually built his inventions to withstand mine on purpose, so… maybe not.”
“Wait, where’s Steven?” Pearl interjected, noticing that the young Gem was the only one not seated in Amethyst’s cockpit.
“Stupid Peridot, stupid robot!” the young Gem fussed to himself from just a few feet away, still caught up in his earlier woes. “Why did I always have to go and encourage her in the first place?!”
“There’s no time for feeling horrible,” Garnet called as she shapeshifted her arm to reach Steven and pull him onto her lap. “We have to catch Peridot before she contacts Yellow Diamond.”
“That’s right,” Pearl nodded, patting Steven’s head. “You can feel horrible all you want back at the temple.”
With all of her passengers finally ready to go, Amethyst took off, her propeller speeding her onward across the farmland Peridot had already gotten a head start on. All the same, it didn’t take long for the purple Gem to catch up to the rampaging bot, which was in the midst of struggling to twist the communicator the proper way and failing completely, much to Peridot’s growing frustration.
“Grr, come on…” the green Gem growled to herself as her robot’s stubby claws fumbled with the communicator. “Work already, you insipid little-”
“Hey, Perisnot!” Amethyst taunted as she suddenly flew right by the green Gem. Peridot gasped in alarm as the purple Gem overtook her, Garnet and Pearl each launching their own attacks from her cockpit. The white Gem’s spear clipped the robot’s hull first, though the Gem leader’s launched gauntlets were what ended up actually taking the bot down. The blast was enough to knock the machine into a nearby power line, giving it enough of a zap to disable it entirely. As battered and broken as the robot was, it tumbled down the hill before its scattered pieces came to rest in the wide field below, including Peridot and the communicator she had been holding onto.
It took the green Gem a moment to pick herself up and regather her bearings after the crash, but as soon as she spotted the communicator lying in the grass just a few feet away, she didn’t hesitate to spring towards it. Right before she could reach it however, a sudden blast from above derailed her, knocking her back as she briefly glared up at its source.
“Well, I may not have hyper-sonic magnetic propulsion gun,” Ford remarked with a smirk as he spun a much smaller, simpler blaster in his grip. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t go out unprepared.”
For once, Peridot didn’t send any sort of snide remark back as she instead refocused her efforts on the communicator. At the same time, Amethyst went in low as everyone unboarded her, allowing her to resume her usual form as everyone rushed to stop the green Gem before it was too late. They all pounced on her more or less at the same time, creating an essential dogpile as they all scrambled to secure the communicator first while further destroying the robot in the process. Peridot herself only barely managed to sneak out of the wreckage, though she wasn’t as unseen as she had hoped, for only seconds later, Steven was upon her, with Mabel and Dipper following suit right after. The four of them all leapt for the fallen communicator at once, creating an uproarious struggle with no clear winners in sight.
“You’re not gonna get away with this!” Steven shouted as he tried his best to yank the communicator out of Peridot’s hands.
“Yeah!” Dipper added just as fiercely. “If you think you’re actually going to let you get in touch with Homeworld, then you’ve got another thing coming.”
“And you’ve got another thing coming if you think you can stop me, you pesky, persistent pebbles!” Peridot snapped, trying her best to kick the kids away to no avail.
“Augh! You don’t get it, do you!?” Mabel cried as she pulled hard against Peridot, finally letting her grief and frustration with the situation as a whole pour out. “We trusted you! We all trusted you! We all wanted you to change and be better than this, but you’re not!”
“We spent all that time bonding and hoping and caring about you!” Steven added amidst the ongoing struggle. “But it was all for nothing!”
“And that’s exactly your problem!” Peridot bristled as she finally pulled the communicator out of the kids’ reach. “Your emotions rule out reason! You waste all your time ‘caring’ and ‘trusting’ when you could be spending it actually doing important things like saving this pathetic planet! Which is why if none of you will, then I’ll make sure to do what must be done!”
None of the kids had a chance to counter this as the green Gem suddenly snapped the communicator on. The device’s surface instantly enveloped itself in a radiant yellow glow as it rose into the air, far out of anyone’s reach as Peridot laughed excitedly over her victory. “She’ll sort this out…” she grinned, more than ready to detail everything she had planned to her Diamond.
At the same time, the Gems rushed in, grabbing all three of the kids as the communicator continued to brighten. Everyone save for Peridot herself was quick to take cover out of sight behind the fallen robot as the communicator opened up, creating a holographic screen that flashed with the visage of four different colored diamonds. Peridot’s growing excitement grew practically manic as the telltale insignia faded away to what she hoped would be Yellow Diamond herself.
“This is the Yellow Diamond control room.” Instead of the Gem matriarch, another Gem entirely appeared on the other end of the line. Her coloration was unquestionably and appropriately yellow and her attire simple yet elegant all the same. However, what was most telling was her appearance, which was far too familiar for the kids in particular to not immediately pick up on, even from their hiding spot from afar.
“Is that… another Pearl?” Dipper asked, aptly dumbfounded.
“Ooo… she’s really fancy…” Mabel noted, somewhat impressed by her style.
“Who is she?” Steven asked Pearl herself, though the white Gem simply let out a harsh scoff at the question.
“Not all Pearls know each other, Steven,” she remarked rather curtly as the Yellow Pearl addressed Peridot.
“Who authorized you to make this call?” she asked, sending the green Gem a cold look of clear disapproval.
“N-no one,” Peridot answered stiffly, but truthfully. “B-but its an emergency!”
“That’s NO excuse to use the direct Diamond communication channel!” Yellow Pearl snapped harshly, only for another voice to cut into the conversation entirely.
“Pearl.”
Yellow Pearl flinched at this deeper, calmer tone, one that she instantly perked towards as she turned to its off-screen source. “Y-yes, my Diamond?”
“Why is there someone on the Diamond Line?”
“I-I don’t know!” Yellow Pearl exclaimed. “I was just about to tell her that-”
“I’ll take it from here.” The hologram suddenly shifted position, revealing exactly who Peridot had been hoping to speak to in the first place: Yellow Diamond.
Yellow Diamond was, simply put, absolutely radiant. Her poise and posture alone told of a figure with unspoken authority and power. Her figure was astute, elegant, yet firm and lithe, clad in a simple, stately uniform that was telling of a military leader. Her hair was short and angular, her features lovely, yet sharp and dark. In fact, just about everything about her could be summed up as sharp, from her large, pointed shoulder pads, to the shimmering stone resting on the center of her chest, to even her pupils: clear perfect diamonds resting amidst bright, vibrant golden yellow. She sat casually upon a crystalline throne, the vast expanses of space stretching out through the large windows behind her as she typed away on the countless number of holographic screens before her, sparing not even a passing glance at the Peridot who had been so bold as to contact her personally.
“Y-Yellow Diamond…” Pearl whispered fearfully, her trembling hands skimming her mouth as she tucked away behind the robot’s wreckage.
“Yellow Diamond…” Garnet echoed much more coldly, glaring towards the Gem matriarch from their unseen spot.
“Yellow Diamond…” Ford finished just as bitterly, though more to himself than anyone else as he set the depicted Diamond a personal scowl of ire all his own.
Meanwhile, Steven and Mabel exchanged a stunned, yet fearful glance, not really knowing what else to expect from the Gem matriarch based on her stern, severe appearance alone. At the same time, Dipper simply stared her down unflinchingly, knowing that despite Peridot’s foolish conviction, Yellow Diamond would likely still have every ill intent against the Earth. She was still a foe, no matter what she said or what she did and that was something that no attempt at pleading or appealing would likely ever change.
But that didn’t mean Peridot wasn’t going to try all the same. “M-My Diamond!” the green Gem saluted her leader respectfully. “Peridot, reporting in.”
“Which Peridot?” Yellow Diamond asked, her tone bored as she continued on with the work in front of her.
Peridot flinched at this, suddenly remembering something she’d largely forgotten about during her time on Earth. That she wasn’t really anything special; she was just one out of countless other Peridots, a fact that had seemed to fade into the back of her mind when she was on a planet where she was apparently one of a kind. “F-Facet 2-F-5-L, Cut 5-X-G,” she reported her designation dutifully all the same. “I’m sorry to contact you this way, but all other forms of communication have been destroyed, and-”
The green Gem starkly cut herself off as Yellow Diamond simply raised a hand to silence her, her attention turned away on one of her many data screens instead. “This says you’re behind schedule on your mission to…” She trailed off before finally turning to face her underling with a cold, calculated gaze. “How is… the Earth?”
“I-it’s… full of life,” Peridot said, with a hopeful shrug.
“Organic life…” the matriarch sneered in disgust. “And where is the Jasper I assigned you? And why aren’t you calling from the ship?”
“T-the ship was… destroyed…” Peridot admitted rather sheepishly.
“By whom?” Yellow Diamond asked, her eyes narrowing.
“I-it was destroyed by…” the green Gem trailed off, sparing a brief glance at the group hiding behind her. Her eyes briefly met Steven’s first, then Mabel’s, their expressions awash with equal fear that Peridot would rat them out to her Diamond. But instead, of all things, she didn’t. “N-no one!” she vouched, electing surprise from just about everyone in the concealed group. “There was an accident… while we were landing.”
Yellow Diamond sent a brief, disgruntled glare to her underling upon hearing this, but all the same, she was quick to return her attention back to work just as before. “I’ll inform your manager of your incompetence,” she scoffed dourly. “And what is the status of the Cluster?”
“The Cluster… w-will emerge shortly…” Peridot reported halfheartedly.
“Good,” the matriarch finally smiled in clear vindication over this fact. “We’ll finally have some use out of that miserable planet. Thank you for your report, Peridot. There will be a ship heading to your location to take you to your next assignment.”
“W-wait!” Peridot interjected hastily, anxiously. “I wouldn’t have called to waste your time with a report.”
“You already have…” Yellow Diamond scowled, though she still let the green Gem continue all the same.
“No, I-I mean… I… I wanted to…” Peridot trailed off, glancing down apprehensively. She was more than ready to divulge her ideas for preserving the Earth while also making the most efficient use of its resources for Homeworld’s benefit. And yet, just before she could, she was overwhelmed by a rather unsavory rumor she couldn’t shake, especially now as she stood before the Diamond it concerned herself. Which was why, despite the thin ice she already knew she was treading on, Peridot went off on an entirely different tangent instead. “I-I wanted to ask if…” she began, making sure to pose this question as carefully as she could. “I-if you’ve ever heard of a being who goes by the name of… Bill Cipher?”
The reaction to the demon’s name alone from both the Diamond and her Pearl was instant and telling. Yellow Pearl let out a sharp, fearful gasp as she cowered back in alarm. Yellow Diamond herself turned to fully face the green Gem, her previously icy expression instead filled with an undeniably angry sense of curiosity. Likewise, the group gathered behind the robot all carried their own startled reactions to Peridot bringing Bill up at a time like this especially, but even so, they listened carefully for whatever the Diamond might have to say about him.
“Where did you hear that name?” she asked, her burning gaze practically piercing Peridot cleanly through.
“I-I…” the green Gem hesitated, fear too afraid to fully divulge her dealings with the demon to her Diamond, so she went with a much simply explanation instead. “H-here, on Earth, m-my Diamond.”
“Hm,” the matriarch mused, her manner still largely unreadable. “And what gives you the impression that I would know of such a… ‘being’, as you put it?”
“H-he… he said you… t-that the two of you… had an… alliance?”
“What?!” Ford asked in a harsh whisper upon hearing this, the kids and the Gems all echoing his shock with startled gasps of their own.
“I-It can’t be true…” Pearl shook her head, trembling in apt terror at the very thought. “Please say it’s not…”
“Oh, did he now?” Yellow Diamond rolled her eyes, seemingly unconcerned by the green Gem possessing such knowledge. “How… amusing. Though I thought I made it quite clear to that… irksome demon that I did NOT want word of our partnership spreading to the lower ranks. But then again, listening has never been his strong suit…”
“S-so its true then?” Peridot asked, looking to her Diamond with immense, almost pleading dismay to hear the opposite. “Y-you really are working with him?”
“I fail to see how that information is of ANY concern to you,” Yellow Diamond countered as coldly as ever as she prepared to end the call right there and then. “Now, if that will be all then-”
“O-one more thing!” Peridot interrupted anxiously. Despite the effective confirmation of her Diamond working hand in hand with someone as dastardly and deceitful as Bill Cipher, the green Gem still believed she could make her matriarch see reason. Both in regards to the planet Earth and perhaps even in regards to what would no doubt be an ill-fated alliance with the dream demon unless someone helped her see the truth.
“What could it possibly be now?” Yellow Diamond asked, clearly exasperated.
“T-the reason I called…” the green Gem began, still quite nervous as she began to make her genuine appeal. “The real reason, wasn’t to give a report or to talk about Cipher. Instead, I… I believe we should terminate the Cluster!”
“…Why?” the matriarch asked, her quiet, yet icy voice and gaze sending shivers throughout the green Gem’s entire form.
“T-the organic geosystem creates resources unique to this world,” Peridot explained with rising hope that her Diamond would listen, even despite the matriarch’s clearly sullen expression. “We can’t sacrifice all that potential for one geo-weapon! I’d like to tell you some plans I came up with to utilize the planet without disrupting the local-”
“That’s enough,” Yellow Diamond cut her off swiftly and sternly. “I don’t care about ‘potential’ and ‘resources’.”
“W-what?” Peridot asked, taken aback by such a harsh rejection.
“I want my Cluster,” the matriarch said simply, succinctly. “And I want that planet to die. Just make that happen.”
“No!” Peridot protested, speaking before she could even think of what she was saying.
Now it was apparently Yellow Diamond’s turn to be taken aback, her sharp gaze focusing on the green Gem before her in a bitter, hostile glare. Her Pearl let out an appalled gasp at such a rebellion, but even so, the matriarch remained steady when dealing with it. “Are you questioning my authority?”
“I-I’m questioning your objectivity, m-my Diamond!” Peridot countered, offering her leader a quick, respectful salute. One that did nothing to quell the matriarch’s rising anger.
“Well!” Yellow Pearl huffed, shocked at such brashness. Her alarm grew even more when Yellow Diamond suddenly rose from her throne, standing at her full, massive, imposing height that towered well above the green Gem who had brazenly chosen to oppose her.
“You are out of line.”
“I-I just think-”
“I am not interested in the puny thoughts of a Peridot,” Yellow Diamond continued, ignoring Peridot’s best attempts at breaking through to her.
“But I-”
“You have disrespected this channel, and my time with your presence and you would do well to-”
“But-”
“Shut your mouth!” the matriarch snapped, finally silencing the already fearful green Gem as she continued in her outraged tirade. “You have failed at every step of your mission. Your only chance to redeem yourself is to obey this simple order: you are to leave the Cluster to grow. It will tear apart the Earth, and I will take immense satisfaction in erasing that hideous rock off of our star maps once and for all! Is that CLEAR?!”
“I won’t do it!” Peridot shouted back with every ounce of courage she had in her. She had her worries before, from the moment she learned about the matriarch’s apparent alliance with Cipher himself that her judgement was questionable. But now, after everything she’d just heard, she had no doubt; Yellow Diamond didn’t want or care about what was best for the Earth like she did. The only thing she wanted was to see it destroyed, a plan that, after all the time she had spent there, all she had come to experience and see and learn there, all of the friends she had met there, Peridot refused to let come to fruition. “I can tell you with certainty that there are things on this planet worth protecting!”
Upon hearing this, Steven and Mabel couldn’t stifle a shared smile, even while all of the others continued to watch the ongoing exchange with rising alarm. Regardless of her earlier slip-up, it seemed as though Peridot really had learned something during her time on Earth after all. Many things, in fact, and she was proudly displaying all that she had learned right here and right now for her Diamond, and for everyone else, to plainly see.
Yellow Diamond, however, was far from impressed by this callous defiance. “What do YOU know about the Earth?!” she shouted viciously, but this time, Peridot did not back down. Instead, the green Gem went in with everything she had and then some as she staked her claim and solidified what side she stood on once and for all.
“Apparently more than YOU, you… CLOD!”
As poised and calm as she had been before, Yellow Diamond’s regal manner instantly broke in raw, uncontained fury upon having such a disrespectful insult hurled at her. Her palpable outrage was more than enough to shake blind terror right back into Peridot as she quickly saluted out of habit more than anything else before hanging up the call. “P-Peridot out!” she exclaimed, grabbing the communicator and instantly ending the feed. Yellow Diamond and her Pearl disappeared from sight, though there was no question that on the other end of the line, the matriarch, wherever she was, was still absolutely fuming over the measly Peridot who had somehow worked up enough nerve to call her a clod, of all things, right to her face.
With the call over and the danger diminished, the others didn’t hesitate to emerge from hiding and head over to the green Gem’s side. Mabel and Steven were the first to embrace her in a tight, triumphant hug, both of them elated by her bravery and by the choice she had made, by all accounts, entirely on her own.
“Peridot, that was amazing!” Steven exclaimed with a delighted smile.
“Seriously, that was one of the coolest things EVER!” Mabel added, just as enthused.
“I can’t believe I just did that…” Peridot said, rather stunned by her own actions as she stared straight ahead, baffled.
“We were so wrong about being so wrong about you!” the young Gem said, more than glad to be wrong in this instance.
“I can’t believe I just did that…” Peridot repeated, still largely in a panicked daze.
“You thought you could change her mind,” Garnet said with the smallest of proud smiles.
“But Yellow D got torn down by the ‘Peri-dactyl’!” Amethyst quipped with a bright cheer.
“Uh, I know we’re all really excited about this, but don’t you guys think we should talk about the whole Bill Cipher and Yellow Diamond working together thing?” Dipper interjected with tight, anxious worry. “Because I really think we should talk about that.”
“I agree,” Ford nodded admantly, gravely. “On their own, the threat that each of them poses already can’t be understated but with Bill’s powers and Yellow Diamond’s resources combined, I don’t even want to think about what that could mean for the planet—no, the very multiverse itself!”
“Then let’s not,” Garnet said succinctly.
“W-what?” Pearl balked, confused as she shared Ford and Dipper’s understandable concern. “But Garnet, we have no idea what this heinous ‘alliance’ of theirs could mean for the Earth or for us or for-”
“There’ll be plenty of time to worry about all that later,” the Gem leader shook her head before turning back to the rather distraught green Gem. “For now, we have something to celebrate, so let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Not yet we don’t…” Peridot sighed as she handed the communicator off to Pearl. “Can one of you take this?”
“Why?” Pearl asked as she took the device.
“Because it can be remotely detonated.”
A ripple of newfound alarm spread through the group at this, especially as the communicator began flashing a bright shade of yellow. “W-why didn’t you tell us that earlier?!” Dipper asked Peridot, who had simply resigned herself to lying on the ground, forlorn.
“How do we stop it?!” Pearl asked, holding the device as far away from her as possible.
“Just get rid of it!” Garnet ordered hastily.
“Amethyst, here!” the white Gem tossed it down to the purple Gem beside her.
“What am I supposed to do with it?!” she shouted frantically before Steven quickly grabbed it and securely bubbled it. Still, Garnet didn’t take any chances with it as she took said bubble and sent it flying far and high into the dawn sky with as much force as she could muster. Sure enough, the communicator exploded safely, creating nothing more than a quickly-dying firework that left nothing behind in its wake.
“Woo!” Mabel cheered excitedly. “Well, that’s one way to start a Saturday morning!”
“I’ll say…” Pearl agreed, letting out an anxious breath.
“I thought I could reason with her…” Peridot spoke up from her spot on the ground, still shaken over what she’d just done.
“Yeah, you made her really mad,” Amethyst chuckled, amused.
“And then you insulted her to her face,” Pearl added with a small smile.
“Which… was pretty amazing,” Dipper added, forcing a bit of a much-needed laugh, even despite the extenuating circumstances. “And honestly kind of hilarious. Even for you.”
”Do you know what this means, Peri?” Mabel asked with a wide, delighted smile. “We’re all best friends again! I knew you wouldn’t let us down when it really mattered and you didn’t! I’m so proud of you!”
“We all are!” Steven chimed in warmly. “And you know what else this means?”
“And I’m a traitor to my Homeworld?” Peridot asked morosely.
“Nope!” Steven’s grin widened as he embraced the green Gem once more. “You’re a Crystal Gem!”
“Whether you like it or not,” Garnet added with a wry smirk. The others all got a good laugh out of this, though Peridot herself simply let out a loud, long, mortified groan. Of all the things that could have happened, the green Gem had never once expected herself to actually become a part of the team of rouges and rebels who had stranded her on Earth to begin with. And yet, here she was, a Crystal Gem all the same, just as Garnet had said, whether she liked it or not.
And if Peridot was perfectly honest with herself, deep down, she truly did like it after all.
***
The receiving end of the Diamond Line shattered into thousands of iridescent pieces as it struck the far wall of the opulent chamber. Yellow Pearl squeaked out a gasp, trembling in fear of her Diamond’s infamous temper as she clung close to the massive throne beside her, watching as the matriarch vetted her immense fury without a single beat of hesitation.
“How DARE that insignificant little traitor try to make a fool out of ME?!” Yellow Diamond shouted hotly, her gloved hands clenched into tight fists as she paced around her spacious chamber. “Why, I haven’t seen such blatant, despicable disrespect and defiance from such a lowly Gem in thousands of years!”
“M-My Diamond?” Yellow Pearl spoke up with an unsteady, wavering smile. “I-if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re a clod!”
Her attempt at a consolation was, however, completely ignored as Yellow Diamond continued her uproarious monologue. “If I didn’t have much better things to do with my time, I’d go down to that disgusting speck of a world and shatter that insolent whelp myself! Fortunately though…” the matriarch finally broke into a small, dark grin, even though it was clear she was still quite unhinged in her remaining fury. “The Cluster will take care of that minor aggravation for me…”
“I-it most certainly will, my Diamond!” Yellow Pearl piped up, only to be largely looked over by her matriarch once more.
“But even so, the audacity of that pathetic Peridot is absolutely appalling!” she scoffed bitterly. “To even claim that the Earth bears us any sort of use now, after everything it cost us! Its completely absurd! I don’t even want to think of what Blue would say if she heard such a ludicrous idea! Or even worse, what White would say…”
Yellow Pearl choked out a small, frightened whimper at this, though her fear only grew tenfold as a sudden, instantly recognizable voice let out a callous chuckle right beside her. “Ha! Yellow sure is HILARIOUS when she’s ticked off, huh, Canary?”
“AH!” Yellow Pearl cried, flinching away from the dream demon floating alongside her the moment she spotted him. Her surprise was quickly replaced with aggravated frustration, however, to the point that she didn’t even notice color swiftly drain out of the throne room altogether. “Augh! You again…”
“Great to see you too, Canary!” Bill quipped as brightly as ever, patting the Pearl on her pointed hair condescendingly. “It’s been WAY too long since I’ve caught up with you and Yellow!”
“Not nearly long enough, if you ask me…” Yellow Pearl grumbled sourly, though she did breathe a small sigh of relief as the demon turned his attention away from her and to her angry matriarch instead.
“Y-ellow, Yellow!” Bill greeted cheerfully as he suddenly appeared right in front of the incensed Diamond’s face. “How’s it goin’? I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?”
“YOU!” Yellow Diamond scowled, glaring the demon down harshly. “What in the stars do you think you’re doing, going around and haphazardly divulging confidential plans and classified arrangements to the most commonplace members of my court?!”
“Why, Yellow, I have NO idea what you mean…” Bill remarked, feigning innocence.
“You know full well what I mean,” the matriarch scowled, instantly calling his bluff. “The Peridot stationed on Earth! She said you made contact with her and laid out all of the undisclosed details of our alliance without my permission. And you’re going to tell me exactly why you did this instant!”
“Yeesh, Yellow! Better simmer down over there, otherwise ya might just end up SHATTERING yourself on accident!” Bill joked with a rather mocking chuckle. “Remind you of anyone you used to know?”
Yellow Diamond let out a disgusted, appalled scoff at this, her rage growing even more as she tried to swat the demon clean out of the air on her fury alone. “How dare you even mention what happened to her in such a way, you despicable-”
“ANYWAY,” Bill interjected quickly, hovering high and calm out of the furious Diamond’s range. “I wouldn’t worry about ol’ Greenie if I we you. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s really not the brightest Gem in the case.
“You mean the Peridot?” Yellow Diamond calmed somewhat, raising an eyebrow up at the demon. “Well, I certainly can’t argue with that, given her foolish choice to rebel against me.”
“Speaking of rebels…” Bill began leadingly. “You really don’t think Greenie came up with that whole ‘let’s save the Earth’ idea on her own, do you? Especially since you sent her there to check up on the very thing that’s supposed to blow it all to oblivion in the first place? Sorta makes you think that maybe… just maybe… someone might have… inspired her to act up like that, don’t ya think?”
“…What are you saying?” Yellow Diamond asked, narrowing her eyes at the demon curiously.
“I’m saying…” Bill continued, shrinking himself down so he could take a seat on the matriarch’s shoulder pad. “That all those pesky rebels you, Blue, and White thought you got rid of way back when… aren’t as ‘gone’ as you’d like to think.”
“WHAT?!” the matriarch’s stark, stunned shout echoed throughout the chamber. “Show me! Now!”
“If you say so, Yellow…” Bill almost cheerfully complied, gliding before the Diamond and using his flat form to present images of Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl alike to her. “Not a ton of those Crystal Chumps are still kicking, but the ones that are sure are a pain in the equilateral sides, if ya know what I mean. Plus, they’ve even picked up a handful of human pals to help them out from time to time,” Bill continued, showing off each of the Pines as well. “As if they couldn’t get any MORE annoying, huh?”
“Hmph,” Yellow Diamond scoffed, seemingly unconcerned by the lot she had just seen. “A few mere straggling Off-Colors and their pathetic human pets are nothing. The Cluster will wipe them and everything else on that miserable rock out soon enough.”
“Yeah, suuuure it will,” Bill remarked with a flippant wave of his hand. “But here’s the kicker, Yellow. Take a look at who ELSE is still down there, having a GRAND old time spending the past several centuries celebrating ‘her’ victory over you-know-who…”
The matriarch gasped, her eyes wide as she noticed the image of a lone pink gemstone hovering over the demon’s open palm. A gemstone, that for all its infamy across all of Homeworld, she would have recognized anywhere. “Rose Quartz…”
“You got it!” Bill quipped, snapping the gemstone away. “Everybody’s FAVORITE Quartz is still alive and well, unlike a certain… ‘little sis’ of yours she went and wiped out of existence just to save some dumb old planet and a bunch of dumb old humans. Seems like a pretty raw deal that she got to survive when poor little Pinky didn’t… huh, Yellow?”
Yellow Diamond’s former fury was nothing compared to the absolute raw, wrath she was showing now. Her fists were so tight they were shaking, sparks of bright electricity bursting all over her form as her anger consumed her from the inside out. “A mercifully short end brought about by the Cluster is far too good for that… that shatterer…” she seethed, her voice quiet, but the fury in it as clear as day. “Cipher! I have another request for you!”
“Oh, do you now?” Bill asked, almost gleefully curious. “Well, lay it on me, Yellow! I’m sure I’d LOVE to hear it!”
“Bring me Rose Quartz before the Cluster destroys the Earth,” Yellow Diamond ordered coldly, viciously. “I want to be the one to shatter her myself, just like she shattered-” The matriarch cut herself off, her expression filling with pain that she couldn’t even bear to speak to, though she was quick to shake it away. “J-just… just bring her to me. Whatever it takes…”
“You know, normally I’d be all for that kind of hellbent revenge, Yellow,” Bill remarked calmly, casually almost. “But I think I’ve got an even BETTER idea for ya. Me and my pals have a little bit of… unfinished business to take care of down there on Earth in the not-too-far-off future. What do you say to the idea of joining us when we get down there—heck, make a whole trip of it if ya want, complete with your snazzy armada and everything!? That way, you can grind Quartzy up into a bunch of pink stardust the moment you see her, right in front of what’s left of her little army on her own doomed planet, just like ya want! What do you think? Sounds like a winner, just like ALL of my plans do, right?”
“Hm…” A small, vindictive smile filled the Diamond’s features at this. “Yes… The crushing defeat she deserves on the very planet she thought she won from us…. I do like the sound of that quite a bit…”
“So… I take it you’re in then?” Bill asked knowingly, stretching a blue, flaming hand out to seal the deal.
Yellow Diamond’s sadistic smile deepened at this, more than ready to exact the vengeance she had been craving for over 5,000 years now. “Yes, I am,” she firmly, readily agreed, returning the demon’s handshake to solidify their latest treacherous plan. “Rose Quartz’s years of running and hiding are over. Now, its her turn to face the very same fate she brought upon Pink…”
“Oh, Yellow…” Bill laughed more to himself that to the matriarch, knowing the truth that she didn’t and exactly how he could use it all to his advantage in his long, ongoing game. A game that was, by all accounts, very close to reaching its ultimate end. “You have NO idea…”
Next:
15 notes · View notes