#(or…. y’know….. a certain ice demon…..) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

Text

Everything is Blue

Chapter 1: His pills, his hands, his jeans

MK just wants everyone in his life to be safe and happy, to never leave him. He'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

And, luckily for him, the voice in his head has the perfect plan to make that happen.

(Or, the author contemplates how slow the possession was for DBK in episode 10 and considers how MK would fall)

Ao3 link

This is a 13k monolith of a first chapter, but I'm very proud of how it turned out! I threw it together in 4 days with the help of my beta reader @imnotcameraready on tumblr, famous for the Chivalry is Dead sanders sides au. Give it a read, it's on Ao3 and tumbr! It even has a sequel! Seriously, she’s a great writer and edited this thing in like 2-3 hrs after I threw it at her. A godsend.

Anyway, happy reading!

When MK knocks the canisters off of DBK’s back, he thinks that’s the end of it. He wasn’t exactly given the rundown on how the cannisters worked, nor does he know why whatever was in them caused DBK to go crazy, but at the very least he only had to fight the one guy instead of the entire family. It was weird to fight with Red Son and Princess Iron Fan (shouldn't she be Queen, at this point? She's married to Demon Bull King, after all. Do they not have the paperwork?) but not unwelcome. He wishes they could be on the same side all of the time.

Because he was raised on stories of Monkey King’s adventures, which frequently discuss the Demon Bull Family, and he’s always thought they were interesting in those stories. He thinks Princess Iron Fan is super cool, even though she’s scary and actively wants him dead. Red Son is...well, he wasn’t what MK expected, but that isn’t exactly a bad thing. If anything, MK thought he’d be older. He doesn’t understand how demon aging works.

Tangents aside, he watches them disappear in a gust of wind and groans, flopping forward as he bemoans the fact that they left again, when he’d just beat them. Well, he hadn’t actually fought all three of them, this time. DBK had fought more people than he had.

He jumps as the cave begins to crumble from all the damage that it took from the fight, scrambling to find a way out, when—

A New Vessel?

A voice curls into his ear, a soft whisper.

Young. Powerful. Weak. Freedom.

He looks down, and he sees a white light sink into his skin. Cold seeps into his every pore, bone, and nerve, his muscles tensing as the temperature drops. His teeth chatter, and when he lets out a startled breath he sees white air drift in front of his face. The warmth of his powers—his Monkey King powers—is smothered, and soon all MK feels is the cold that keeps him in place, rooting him to the spot. It’s a miracle he’s even standing.

What is this?

What’s happening?

His eyes dart to the cannisters. The empty canisters. There was something in there, earlier, right? Where did it go?

Is this? Wher e it w e n t?

Wha t i s . . . ?

It’s hard to think. His thoughts are newly cracked ice upon a lake, pieces crashing slowly against each other and fracturing further, splintering into nothingness.

New Vessel. Rest.

His eyes slide shut, out of his control, as his consciousness, like everything else, is smothered by the chill.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up on the shoulder of the Monkey Mech, as the last rays of sun are streaking across the steadily darkening sky, like a lighthouse beam against the dark sea. He sits up, staring far into the horizon, as confusion pulls him out of the just woken up daze. How did he get here?

“MK?” He jumps, startled, and turns to realize that Mei is right next to him, a concerned smile on her face. He stares at her, trying to figure out why she’s here, how she got here. Then again, he doesn’t even know how he got here. He feels dizzy just trying to remember.

“You alright, kid?” Pigsy’s voice comes from his other side, and he forces himself not to jump, turning to look at his boss. Tang and Sandy are there too, and Sandy waves while Tang smiles in greeting mid slurp, bowl of noodles in hand.

“What happened?” he’s missing time. He defeated DBK, and then...then nothing. There’s a feeling of coldness, at the thought, but the memories don’t come.

“I found you on the ground after the Bull Clones all sort of fell apart. I figured you passed out after trouncing DBK, so I picked you up and got you out of there.” Mei doesn’t seem concerned, but MK is, just a little. He’s never passed out after using his powers; rather, using them often results in him getting an energy boost. He thinks back on it, trying to remember any time this has happened before. Macaque comes to mind but even then he wasn’t tired once his powers returned.

His ruminating on the ordeal is cut off by a bowl of noodles being shoved unceremoniously into his hands. He blinks down at it, and then turns to Pigsy

“Here, kid. Eat. You look pale, and skinny as ever. Can’t have my employee lookin’ half starved.” He smiles at Pigsy’s attempt to hide his soft side, picking up his chopsticks with a grin.

He eats, and the loud conversations of what they’d just accomplished arrests MK’s attention so that the questions about DBK, the cannisters, the voice that he swears he can hear in the back of his mind, fall away like sand in an hourglass, time never able to be reclaimed.

The sun finally vanishes and stars dot the sky like sequins on a gown. MK curls in on himself, hunched over the bowl a little, missing the sun's rays and the finished soup’s warmth.

He shivers, but there’s no breeze.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bonus of living in such a technologically advanced age is that city reconstruction is pretty fast. Hospitals are rebuilt first, people are brought in en masse. MK spends his time volunteering there, because noodle shops are low on the list of things to be rebuilt and he needs to be useful.

MK tries not to be too guilty about the wreckage, though most of it had occurred because he was late to stop DBK. He'd been kept at Flower Fruit Mountain for a few weeks because Monkey King was worried after the incident with Macaque. Wanted to be sure MK's training ethic wasn't too messed up, wanted to be certain Macaque hadn't left any lasting effects or impressions.

It was a punishment, MK knows, for being a two timing student and for making Monkey King have to deal with a demon enemy when he’s made it clear that he’s retired. Doesn't matter that they only ever trained in the morning and early afternoon, then spent the rest of the day hanging out. MK has watched Monkey King: The Animated Series fifty-three times now, most recently with Monkey King during the duration of his solitary confinement at Flower Fruit Mountain. They'd both piped up with commentary, MK about the production and animation, and Monkey King about the inaccuracies that MK filed away for his sketchbook.

But even so, it was a punishment for MK’s failings. Why else would Monkey King keep MK close, keep him away from his family and friends, keep MK away from the outside world?

It takes two and a half weeks after the battle with DBK for MK to go back to work delivering noodles. He'll sometimes buy extra and drop it off at a random hospital nearby, for the medical staff. They're overworked because of him, because he was away for so long.

He has to be better next time. He doesn't know when DBK will be back, doesn’t know how to sense him. Is he able to do that? Can he learn to sense when his enemies are nearby? That would solve a lot of problems, near rid him of worry. Maybe Monkey King knows?

That thought has him swinging by Flower Fruit Mountain on the weekend, with a promise to Pigsy to be home before midnight. MK is an adult only by age, after all; Pigsy still treats him like the 16 year old he found half dead outside his shop.

When he steps onto the mountain’s sand, though, he feels unwelcome.

The mystic energy that had beckoned him in the first time he’d arrived has shut its doors, like a silent way of saying

Leave.

Not a single monkey comes to greet him, but he can see their eyes, hidden in the trees. They regard him with suspicion. He frowns at them in confusion.

He hears a hiss in the back of his head and winces at the ensuing headache, stepping forward in hopes of pushing past the pain. Every step he takes makes the pounding in his head louder and more painful, and MK closes his eyes and focuses, reaching for the well of power he knows he has, the power that makes the staff feel lighter than air.

It’s like sticking his hand through a well of ice, and his wrist is paralyzed by the time his fingers brush that warmth, the light curling around his palm. Gold sparkles in his vision, and the unwelcome air starts to recede, as if the island recognizes him again. He heads in deeper, and lets out a breath as the headache ceases.

He doesn’t have to head in too deep, because Monkey King comes through the waterfall in a rare moment of MK’s mentor leaving the inner sanctum of the mountain. The waterfall itself moves like a curtain out of Monkey King’s way and the sight has MK focusing on that rather than the expression on Monkey King’s face, until he looks up.

Monkey King’s eyes are sharp, darting around, an expression MK only recognizes from the suspicion and distrust Monkey King gave Macaque. MK fidgets beneath that gaze, though it isn’t directed at him, uncomfortable. He hasn’t done anything wrong, has he? He wracks his brain for any new missteps, but finds very little. Still, his anxiety skyrockets by the second.

The look vanishes, though not completely, when Monkey King’s eyes catch on the sight of MK.

“Hey bud! Impromptu visit?” Monkey King greets.

MK tries not to shy away from the air of suspicion that colors Monkey King’s tone. Is MK really that untrustworthy? He did mess up badly by trusting Macaque, and Monkey King is right to distrust him. He bites his lip and tries to ignore the swell of guilt that sets like a stone in his stomach at the memory.

“Yeah, just-uh-just wanted to train, y’know? Don’t know when DBK is coming back.” He shrugs, and Monkey King nods, only half listening.

He still looks on edge. “Cool. You uh...you bring anyone with you?”

Now that’s concerning. MK scrambles to find a supposed intruder, hands gripping his staff tight in preparation for battle. “No? Unless-Oh no, is there someone here? Is it a demon guy?” What if he led a bad guy here? What if he messed up again?

He jumps as a monkey lands on his head, picking through MK’s hair in typical grooming fashion, and then Monkey King laughs, loud and almost relieved. MK turns back around to face him.

“Nah, must be my nerves. Maybe DBK left something on you, messed with my senses.” Monkey King waves a hand, nonchalant, and MK perks up in ease at the reminder.

“Oh! That’s actually why I’m here!” He takes careful steps forward, trying not to jostle the monkey on his head. “I was thinking-I didn’t know DBK was in the city and destroying stuff, and a lot of people got hurt. But! If I could sense him, like you can, I could stop him quicker! Right?” He’s bouncing on his toes, nervous and excited all at once, and Monkey King smiles down at him fondly.

“Sure, why not? If you’re up for some meditation, that is,” Monkey King turns, waving at MK to follow.

The monkey on MK’s head hops away, and MK sprints after his mentor with a wide grin. “Totally! I’m, like, the best at meditation. I’m like a meditation wizard!”

Monkey King laughs all the way to the training grounds.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Training actually is easier than he expects. MK blusters a lot, but he isn’t dumb or unaware of his limits. Sitting still isn’t his strong suit, so sitting still while not being able to talk, tap, fidget, or do anything else other than think is basically torture.

But, when he gets into the meditative position with Monkey King, something clicks. A cool blanket settles on his shoulders, eases out the desire to move. It’s so easy to be still, and quiet.

Frozen.

“You weren’t kidding,” Monkey King tells him, and MK grins a little, face warmed by the praise. “Now, when you’re like this, you have to let every other sound and feeling fade out. Nothing else matters but the energies around you. Mine’s pretty easy to see cause, yknow,”

MK can practically see Monkey King scratching his chin and grinning with barely hidden pride. “I’m a pretty powerful guy. DBK would be similar, he’s got a pretty loud aura too. Now, just try it, kay?”

MK nods, and takes a deep breath. The sounds around him-bugs, monkeys jumping around and talking to one another, the wind, the ever present sound of something in his head—those all start to fade away.

Wait, what was that last one?

He lets them all go, and then forgets the feeling of the cold, the grass, the fabric touching his skin. Nothing exists except his own mind, and then.

He gets to see the bright light that is Monkey King. Golden and red and royal in its feel, it’s near blinding. He has to blink a few times to get used to its light.

“Woah,” he murmurs, and Monkey King opens one eye, before blinking both in surprise.

“Woah, already? You sure you haven’t done this before?” Monkey King crosses his arms over his chest, almost offended, and MK is reminded of how betrayed Monkey King looked when MK had shown off the skills he’d learned from Macaque.

“Nope! Maybe defeating DBK gave me a confidence boost?” He shrugs, and then stands, looking around. Monkey King’s expression sits in the back of his mind, and MK bites his lip. “Did I, uh, did I do something wrong? I didn’t…,” he trials off, worried.

“Maybe,” Monkey King mumbles in response to his first reply, mostly to himself. “Oh-no, no, you’re fine, bud. I think I’m just a little paranoid,” he laughs it off. MK is too busy glancing back towards town to process Monkey King’s pensive expression.

“I can see Mei! She’s...very green. Did she always have a dragon?” It’s curled around her, like a protective barrier, snarling and poised to strike.

Monkey King chuckles. “You’ve got yourself some powerful friends, kid. Not surprising. Like knows like, even when they don’t know what like is.” He puts a hand on MK’s shoulder, and then starts. “You’re freezing. It’s not that cold, is it?”

MK blinks a few times, and everything comes back, the colors and sounds and feelings of the world returning to normal. Monkey King keeps looking at him, as if MK is a puzzle he’s yet to solve.

“I don’t know, maybe? I’ve been feeling a bit chilly, lately. Maybe I’m coming down with something?” He’s been a bit stressed out, between Macaque and DBK and the reconstruction, and he’s heard stress can cause illnesses.

Monkey King sighs, after a moment, and scratches his head.

“I think I’m becoming an adult,” he says, like it’s a crime, and he shrugs again. “You’re probably fine. Just, take it easy the next few days, alright? Practice meditating at home, or when you’re on the job. When you’re as good as me, you can turn it on whenever you need to,” Monkey King puffs up with pride, and his tail swings back and forth leisurely. MK watches his tail more than he listens to what Monkey King is saying.

“Okay. Anything else for today?” It’s only been an hour or two, they have plenty of time.

Monkey King deliberates. Then, he grins, stepping back to position for MK’s inevitable first attack. “Tell you what. We’ll spar for a bit, and then you can bring up that new show you kept ranting about a few weeks ago. Kay?”

MK’s eyes sparkle.

“Heck yeah!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK’s muscles aren’t sore when he gets home. He actually lasted a couple minutes sparring this time around, and Monkey King had rewarded him with peach chips and an arm around MK’s shoulder as he eagerly pulled up the show he had dove into during his free time on the TV.

Pigsy sent him upstairs with a bowl of noodles and a stern reminder to sleep early so he wouldn’t be late for work. He finishes the noodles in record time and, once he has showered and put on his warmest pajamas, pulls out all of the blankets he can find. He just wants to be warm, just a little, even though it doesn’t make sense that he’s feeling this cold. He’s not tired, he doesn’t feel achy, his sinuses are clogged—none of the other symptoms of being sick are popping up, so why is he so cold?!

He’s practically buried in blankets by the time he feels comfortable enough to rest. For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t dream.

Things go back to normal, somewhat. There’s a niggling something in the back of his head, and there’s guilt and the ever present chill that has MK wearing long sleeved shirts, but otherwise MK falls back into his typical routine, which is nice. He missed his friends, between Macaque and DBK and training. It’s good to see them again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first time he starts hearing the voice in his head, he’s getting yelled at by Pigsy.

It doesn’t happen as often, anymore. MK is scatterbrained, but he genuinely tries to do his best at work. Sometimes, he gets mixed up, because he’s only one kid and he’s never been good at focusing, no matter how hard he tries. It’s hard for his stressed out and ADHD ridden brain to remember whose order is whose, especially when it’s the dinner rush and he’s running behind.

Today was a particularly bad day. He’d accidentally given a customer an order with peanut oil in it, when they had an order specifically without peanuts due to their severe allergy. Pigsy had gotten a very angry phone call, and he passed that rage at MK, rightfully so.

MK can only apologize so much, so eventually he quiets and lets Pigsy let off steam. Luckily the customer hadn’t tried to sue, but MK knows the review Pigsy likely got was scathing. He deserves a bit of a tongue lashing for that, he thinks.

It was an honest mistake. Cruel, to yell at one so young. Why is he so mean?

The voice in the back of his head, new and different, nearly makes MK jump. Pigsy notices the change in MK’s expression and mistakes it for fear, and that gets him to quiet down. He dismisses MK with a sigh and a wave of his hand, and MK heads upstairs, feeling guilty and confused.

That voice….it didn’t sound like him, did it? When he tries to recall the sound, it mirrors his internal voice, but in the moment it seemed different.

It’s probably nothing. After all, if something was wrong with him, wouldn’t someone else have noticed by now? Wouldn’t he have noticed by now?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The voice keeps popping up at random intervals, random moments. When Mei gets annoyed at his ramblings. When Tang pushes him away when he’s begging for a story, because Tang is busy eating. When Pigsy yells at him for being late for work, for messing up. When Sandy awkwardly pushes him to leave because MK can’t take a hint, some days. When Monkey King looks at him with something akin to disappointment, exasperation.

They’re tired of you. They want you gone. They’re plotting against you. They’re going to betray you!

And, see, that would bother MK if he didn’t already know that. He knows people don’t like him, find him annoying. He knows he pushes too much, messes up a lot, misses social cues. He knows that he’s not a good enough successor. And that just makes him want to do better.

As for the whole betrayal thing, plotting against him, it makes sense. He isn’t offended or anything if they are, in fact he’d be more surprised if they weren’t, you know? He’s the Monkey King’s successor. He has all of the powers, has all of the strength and invincibility, with a caveat or two, but he’s also still just a teenager. If they aren’t worried that he could go rogue, mess up and decide to be selfish, then that’s stupidity on their part. Trusting him with anything is never a good idea, so knowing that, should he mess up, his family will be able to enact swift justice is a comfort rather than a worry.

And yeah, it’s a bit embarrassing, knowing just how annoying and useless he can be. He flinches more often at their glares, gets quieter. He doesn’t want to make them mad at him, he doesn’t want to lose them because he isn’t good enough. He just needs to focus, be better, help out more often. If he does that, hopefully they won’t leave.

The voice, after a few months or so, had backed off for a week. He’d felt a weight lift from his shoulders, and smiling was easier. Pigsy had seemingly relaxed at his good mood, and Mei seemed cheerier when they’d gone out to the arcades. He hadn’t realized he’d been worrying them.

Are you so sure they’ll stay?

A single phrase that pulls the rug out beneath MK’s feet. He knows he isn’t good enough, but everyone knows that he at least tries, right? That should endear them to him enough for him to prove he’s worth their time, right? He can be good enough, he can do better, he just needs time!

Not fast enough. They’ll get tired of you, and then they’ll leave.

The cold feeling in his chest feels so much heavier, as he panics in his room. He’s supposed to be asleep, but the blankets don’t do much anymore. He’s losing feeling in his fingers. He keeps fumbling with things, even the staff, and everyone is getting annoyed at him. And he’s so tired, all the time, and yet it’s so hard to sleep. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, but he knows that whatever it is, it’s going to ruin the equilibrium he has between being a failure and being good enough to keep around.

What happens when he loses it all?

You can be better.

Can he?

Wouldn’t everyone love you if they were safe?

Well, he can imagine not having to worry about DBK would make them far less stressed out. If he can do that, then maybe they won’t get so easily annoyed at him. He knows stress can make people snappy, and there’s a lot to be stressed about, like the economy and death by demons.

You can make them safe.

How?

Listen to me.

And MK knows it’s weird to make a pact with your own mind, but he thinks he’s pretty good at following directions, so he nods, and doesn’t sleep at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The plan isn’t an easy one, and MK doesn’t know if he really wants to follow it. The words turn over and over in his head. He doesn’t know if they’re right or not.

Maybe it would be better, if he wasn’t so nice. He beats the bad guys, sure, but he isn’t that violent with them. They try to kill him, but it’s never personal. He’s the successor to Monkey King, it just makes sense that they’d go after him. He’s not upset, really!

Even though the calabash has him looking over his shoulder. They have earthquakes a lot, they live near a ring of active volcanoes, and each one puts him on edge, expecting a lie to turn his whole world apart. And the spider lady tried to eat his friends, tried to kill him. And Macaque nearly hurt Monkey King because MK let him get close. And DBK and Princess Iron Fan won’t stop, not until they get revenge or something.

Red Son is...he’s MK’s age. And MK has noticed just how much DBK and Princess Iron Fan belittle Red Son, and he’s their son. It’s too familiar for MK’s liking, and it makes the desire to bring Red Son to justice lessen. Maybe, if he got Red Son’s parents out of the way…

You could have anything you wanted.

All MK wants is for his friends and family to be happy.

This is how you’ll do it.

MK doesn’t give in. Not yet.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK considers it when he goes over to see Sandy, one afternoon. They’re just doing some leisurely painting practice, nothing like painting the whole boat. After the whole clones thing, Sandy had learned that he should probably figure out which color he wants to stick with in the long run before asking for help in such a task. So, he asks MK to come over and brainstorm. You know, sketch out some ideas, test paint samples on different areas of the boat, see how it looks in light and dark.

MK also helps with the many litter boxes around the ship, as well as top up the water and food bowls all around. He gets appreciative nuzzles from the myriad cats around the barge, so it isn’t so bad. Then, he and Sandy will have tea, and Sandy will listen to MK ramble on about anything and everything until either Monkey King or Pigsy or Mei calls him to go do something (he gave Monkey King his number. Occasionally he will get an incomprehensible text. He’s pretty sure Monkey King has a Nokia phone).

Today, when they’re having tea, MK considers.

“Hey, Sandy?” He starts, more hesitant than when he’s ever asked the man a question before.

Sandy notices, and MK sees him soften his pose even more, looking warm and welcoming. “Yeah, MK?”

“Do you think I’m too soft on villains?”

Because he beats them, but he always lets them leave, lets them escape. They get to heal, recoup, and come back stronger every time, and people get hurt. MK doesn’t want to be the type to attack first, to never ask questions, but at this point there aren’t too many questions to ask.

“You’ve got a good heart, MK. You don’t have it in ya to go at ‘em too hard,” MK clenches his fist, his other hand gentle against the teacup lest he break it. He did that a few times when he first got his powers, unused to the extra strength.

“That kinda doesn’t answer my question,” MK tries not to say it through gritted teeth. He can feel his tea getting frigid, and bites back the burst of white air that would make Sandy ask questions.

He wouldn’t know how to answer questions about that, which is why he can’t deal with them. That’s the reason.

He’s saying you’re weak.

MK hides a grimace, and lets his heart ache silently. He sips the tea. It’s ice cold.

“What brought this on?” Sandy asks, instead of answering the question, which grates on MK’s nerves more than it should.

“I let DBK get too powerful,” he says. “He destroyed the city again, and people got hurt. If I’d just got rid of him before, those people would be okay.”

Sandy sighs, taking a sip of his tea. A cat hops into MK’s lap, curling up, but after a few frigid moments hops away. Apparently MK is too cold for its liking. He tries not to get offended by that, but the hot well of shame and longing persists. At least the feeling is warm.

“MK, you’re still learning. Mistakes are bound to happen. Those who got hurt will get better, and the city is rebuilt better than ever! You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders. And,” Sandy looks away, and suddenly he looks a lot older than MK thinks he is. “Honestly, being too harsh to make an enemy stop can feel good in the moment, but it does more harm than good, especially to the person who does the fighting.”

And MK leaves it at that, but thinks he doesn’t mind if it harms him, if it keeps everyone else safe.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Another story!” MK begs, spinning on the barstool. Pigsy always tells him not to, something about wearing down the seat joint, but at the same time Pigsy never really stops MK when he does it either, because MK only does it when he’s very excited and hyper.

Tang finishes his bowl of noodles with a chuckle, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose in a practiced motion that MK is oh so familiar with. MK taps the front of his sketchbook with his pencil impatiently.

“Alright, alright. Tell you what, I’ll tell you the story of the Baigujing, or White Bone Spirit,” Tang’s voice falls into storyteller mode, and MK is immediately entranced. Pigsy, from the kitchen, slams down a pan and groans.

“Not that one, Tang. I hate that one, you know that,” MK turns to his boss and is surprised to see an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. What in this story would Pigsy have to be embarrassed about?

“Hey, MK wants to know all the Monkey King stories. I’m not going to rob him of knowledge,” Tang argues back. He leans close to MK and whispers “Pigsy couldn’t sleep for a week after I told him this one.”

“That is not true!” Pigsy barks, indignant, and MK laughs.

Tang chuckles to himself, and Pigsy turns back to his work with a grumble. Right now is a lull in business, right after the lunch rush and before early dinners get called in, so MK is taking his break and Pigsy isn’t too upset by it. It’s just enough time for a story.

“Okay. The Baigujing was a shapeshifting demon, who saw Monkey King and his group of traveling companions as they passed by. Her eyes caught on the human monk, Tang Sanzang,” MK perks up.

“Hey, that’s like your name!” he points out, and both Tang and Pigsy look startled. Tang coughs, awkward.

“Yes-well-uh, it’s a family name,” he amends quickly. MK tilts his head to the side. “Anyway, she decided she wanted to taste the monk’s flesh. So, she disguised herself as a little girl, coming up to the group and offering them poisoned fruits. Because she was so powerful, only Monkey King could sense her treachery, and he hit her with his staff, seemingly killing her.”

MK gasps, doesn’t understand the fury that builds behind his eyes.

Tang glances at him, for a moment, and then jumps.

“MK? You okay?” He asks, and MK blinks.

“What-yeah! What happened next?” Tang looks him over, gaze catching on MK’s eyes, before he sighs and continues.

“The Monkey King’s companions were shocked and appalled. They thought he had killed an innocent girl! He tried to explain, but they didn’t believe him. The Monk buried the girl, who turned back into the spirit. She tried again, once as the supposed mother of the little girl, and then the grandfather. Monkey King managed to show her as a skeleton spirit during their last encounter, clearing his name, but then his companion, Bajie, told Sanzang that Monkey King made it up. Thus, Monkey King was abandoned, at least until the Monk was captured by a demon Wujing and Baijie couldn’t defeat, and Bajie had to apologize to bring him back,” Tang finishes, and MK’s face settles into a pout.

“Bajie’s a jerk!” He crosses his arms.

“He apologized,” Pigsy mumbles, from his place in the kitchen, where he slices scallions violently. “More than once. Not that it matters.”

“Monkey King didn’t exactly endear himself to his peers,” Tang amends. “Perhaps if he had been less full of himself at the time, they all could have gotten along better. But, all four grew to be better people by the end of their journey.”

MK finishes a sketch of the scenes Tang had described with a flourish, and he tilts his head to one side. “Kind of rude to just attack the lady, though, couldn’t he have tried to talk it out?” He doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend the demon, but she doesn’t seem too bad.

Tang makes a face.

“She wanted to eat a person, MK,” he says, and MK makes a face that mirror’s Tang’s expression.

“Right. Eugh, gross. Anyway, thanks Mr. Tang!” he hops off the barstool and puts back on his collared shirt, making sure his headband doesn’t slip down. “Any orders, Pigsy?”

Pigsy jerks his thumb to the few on the counter. MK picks them up, and continues on to work, the story sitting in the back of his mind. He stumbles a bit while walking. He doesn’t feel the key in his hand, his fingers numbed over time. He should be concerned, but everything else seems fine.

He kind of wishes he could have met the Baigujing. She doesn’t seem too bad, besides the people eating. Maybe they could have worked it out.

Who does Sun Wukong think he is, deciding to serve justice anyway he sees fit?

MK frowns and buttons up his shirt. His chest feels like ice.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s so, so tired.

MK looks at himself in the mirror when he wakes up and his skin looks paler, his lips a little blue. He has bags under his eyes that vanish by the time he leaves the bathroom, a bottle of concealer and a tube of lipstick on the bathroom sink that he doesn’t remember buying.

His memory’s been growing spottier, too, missing minutes, hours. Mei talks to him about a high score he beat at the arcade and he nods along, no clue what she’s talking about but not wanting to worry her. He hasn’t gone to see Sandy in what feels like years, but gets a text from him thanking MK for taking care of the cats one afternoon. There are sketches in his sketchbook he doesn’t remember drawing, from stories Tang told him that he can’t remember hearing.

He’s lost feeling in his hands and feet. He’s dropped enough bowls of soup for Pigsy to go from mad to worried, and he shoves MK off to Flower Fruit Mountain because it’s warmer there, and MK always looks cold.

He stumbles when he hits sand, nearly bowls over with how much the island rejects him, how much it wants him not to be there. This is supposed to be a safe place, but the sand feels like needles and the wind slices at his face. Monkey King comes rushing out like a bat out of hell, teeth bared, but he sees MK, kneeling on the beach, and runs over.

“You okay, bud? You look…,” he doesn’t say awful, but MK knows he’s thinking it. MK looks awful, feels awful, is awful. And the solution to that is right there, waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to take it because he’s a coward. The voice in his head gave him an ironclad idea, a perfect plan, and he’s been ignoring it because he’s scared.

Weak little vessel.

The hiss in his ear makes him wince, and he trembles as Monkey King helps him up.

“Tired,” he manages, leaning against Monkey King because he hardly has the strength to stand.

“I can see that.” The try at levity has MK chuckling, but Monkey King is soft and warm and all MK wants to do is suck that warmth into himself, so he can stop being cold for one second. “Why don’t we head to my place and watch something. There’s always my show, right?”

MK nods, blinking slowly, and Monkey King takes a step forward. Suddenly, they’re at Monkey King’s house. When did they get there? Why are they here again?

He’s set on the couch.

“There’s something off about your aura, kid. Touch anything mystic or weird back at home?” Monkey King runs his fingers through MK’s hair, and MK leans into the touch. Warm. Safe.

He shakes his head, a full minute after the question is asked. Monkey King hums in thought.

“How do you even see auras?” MK mumbles, words slurring a bit as he talks. “Teach me?”

Monkey King’s hand stills, and MK whines a little, prompting his mentor to continue the motions.

“I already have, bud,” Monkey King whispers, more to himself than to MK. MK blinks in confusion. He doesn’t remember that.

Rest, Vessel.

The voice whispers so sweetly in his ear. It’s nice, sometimes. Mean other times. MK wonders if that’s his fault. Is he so bad that even his own head is mad at him? How can he be better? He’s trying so hard.

The TV is turned on. MK doesn’t register the sound, but the light makes him turn his head away. Monkey King turns down the brightness with his remote. Another monkey rests on top of MK for a moment, before jumping off. It shivers at the temperature of MK’s jacket, his skin, and moves over to Monkey King’s shoulder.

MK rests his head on Monkey King’s lap, and closes his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up in a dream. He stands on ice. Each step he takes is careful, lest he slip, and even still he stumbles and fumbles. He can see something in the distance.

“Hello?” he calls out, but the person doesn’t answer. The closer he gets, the more he can make them out. “Mei?”

It is her, but then her head drops, straight off of her neck.

“NO!” MK screams, running to her, and he stumbles and falls. His knees hit ice and they burn with the chill that sinks through his pants. He slides to her body, cradling it and her head as if he could put her back together with hope.

He turns, looking for a reason for this, and when he looks up, all of the adults in his life are standing around him, their faces covered in shadow. Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, Monkey King—they’re all looking down on him.

“Look what you let happen,” Pigsy growls out.

“She’s dead,” Tang continues.

“You didn’t save her,” Sandy drones on.

“You let her die,” Monkey King spits.

“No…” MK breathes, and the tears build in his eyes and down his cheeks, freezing on his face. It burns.

You have a choice, vessel.

The figures of his friends vanish into mist, and MK curls his arms around himself. He misses the contact. He hates to be alone.

A woman wreathed in white kneels down in front of him. It hurts to look at her, and MK averts his gaze until she tilts up his chin so he can look nowhere else. Her face is ice cold, yet inviting. He can’t look away from her eyes.

Don’t you want them to stay? Don’t you want them to be safe?

MK nods, quickly. Of course that’s what he wants. More than anything, he wants that love, that adoration. He wants his family to be safe, to never leave.

You know what to do.

It feels like ice is creeping up his skin, encasing him in frigidity. She holds out his hand, and he can do nothing else but take it. The cold reaches its peak, and suddenly it’s warm. It burns, and yet the warmth is inviting, a relief after months of being so, so cold and confused and tired. He is past the point of cold, of freezing, of sub zero. He is warm. He is ready.

He is hers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up well rested, and the cold that had settled into him still feels like the burn that is a welcome respite from before. Monkey King is still asleep, and MK leaves him there, leaving the house and walking slowly out of the inner mountain.

He leaves footprints of ice where he steps. The monkeys watch, from the trees, trembling as their eyes gaze upon something inhuman, sitting in MK’s skin. MK has never felt better. He knows what to do now. He knows how to make things right.

The staff in his hands feels heavier, for a moment, but MK grips it tight and bends it to his will. He pogos out of the island with ease, letting the wind whip his hair back.

He hasn’t blinked in a while. He forgot he had to. He blinks because the wind makes his eyes sting, and touches the ground with a gentleness he didn’t know he could master.

He lets his eyes glow gold, searching. He remembers, now, how to look at auras. He remembers a lot of things now. It’s like the pressing weight of being weak for the sake of niceties has vanished, and now he is sharp and ready.

The only question is which of his enemies does he go after first? He needs to get all of them, keep them secure. It’s the only way the town, the city, will be safe.

The small fry first. We’ll work our way up to the demon king.

Right, that makes sense. MK grins to himself. It’s so nice to have someone constantly helping, constantly making sure he’s doing the right thing. He’s useless on his own, but give him a direction and he’ll follow it to the letter.

He can see gold and silver, in the distance. He forgets their names, at first, but their auras jog his memory. Yin and Jin.

They put him in the calabash. They weren’t good at it, but they were good enough. They’re demons. Dangerous. He needs to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.

He heads to their home, not in a hurry. There’s no rush to the inevitable. Is this what self confidence is? The feeling of knowing you can do it, that you will do it, that no one can stop you? It feels very gratifying. He lets the glow in his eyes vanish, because he doesn’t want to startle everyone around him.

His phone buzzes. A text from Pigsy, demanding to know where he is. He responds with ‘Dealing with Monkie Kid stuff. Be back soon!’ and a string of emojis that Pigsy will find incomprehensible, before continuing on his trek.

He reaches the door, and hears a conversation.

“So, our plan has three steps. That’s an improvement,” Yin seems to be pacing, from what MK can hear.

“Step one, capture the monkie kid,” Jin pipes up, and MK fights back a laugh. “Step two, take the staff from him.”

As if they could. MK almost has to admire their tenacity.

“Step three, take over the world!” Yin finishes, and MK takes that as his cue to step in.

He knocks in the door. Polite. He still has manners, after all.

“Huh? Jin, did you order out for dinner again?” Yin barks out.

“We don’t have the money for that!” Is the response.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Yin grumbles, moving to the door.

Here they come!

MK counts the steps Yin takes to the door, itching with anticipation.

“Hello?” Yin opens the door, and then jumps in surprise.

“Hi!” MK waves, and taps his staff on the ground.

There’s a thunk; not a thud of a body, but a thunk of a block of ice. MK pats the statue with a fond look. He’ll chip away the extra pieces later. This is his first attempt, it’s normal for it to be less precise. He can get better at it with practice. Jin turns, from his place at the desk, and his eyes widen when he sees his brother, frozen on the floor.

“Yin—what did you do?” Red eyes glow dangerously, and MK wonders if they would be more ferocious if he threatened one over the other. Jin gets up, teeth bared.

“This,” MK replies, tapping his staff on the ground.

Jin takes a step forward and freezes in place. Or, is frozen, MK supposes. He looks at the brothers, safely imprisoned, and wonders. Where is he going to put them? There’s not enough room here for all of his enemies to be placed. What’s a good place to set everything up?

The cave? The old villain hideout?

That’s perfect! After all, it would be the funniest form of irony, right? Turning a villain hideout to his base for his world saving plan. Gosh, he’s so smart. Because this is him, all him. He finally is smart enough to know what to do. He has to clear out the cave, first. It’s not far away, hidden beneath the sewers. There’s a path to it from the area where the staff used to lie.

He sets Yin and Jin next to each other, considering their poses. He thinks they look a little off, but he can fix that, right? He can fix anything, given enough time. That’s what all this is, fixing the problem of demons who’ve escaped because of DBK’s release. He nods to himself, and heads off. He has rocks to clear out, he has a cave to excavate.

But, he promised Pigsy that he’d be back soon. That stops him short. He can’t skip work!

This will make him far happier in the long run.

Still, what’s a few hours of work to make Pigsy happy now? He shakes off the one track mind and puts his staff away. The ice won’t melt fast (or at all) and he’s got time. The flash of cold he gets in response to that thought doesn’t inspire comfort, and he second guesses himself a few times, but he heads to the shop anyway.

“Hey Pigsy!” he waves, and Pigsy glances at him and jerks a thumb over to the pile of orders on the counter. “On it!”

MK swoops them up and sets them all on the delivery cart. Pigsy glances at him again, and then freezes.

“MK?” he asks.

MK turns, blinking a few times. “Yeah?” he responds, and Pigsy peers at him, almost suspicious.

MK tilts his head to the side in confusion. A part of him is glad that he has concealer on, because they don’t have the time to chat about MK’s new skin tone, not with all these orders. He watches Pigsy shiver, muttering something about the A/C acting up, before Pigsy shakes himself off and sets his hands on his hips.

“I thought-your eyes-nevermind. Get those orders out!” Pigsy barks, and MK stands at attention, giving Pigsy a salute.

“On it!” He promises, sliding out of the shop and hopping onto the delivery cart.

It only takes an hour, which is much faster than he usually is, but focus comes easy when he’s driven. The faster he gets this done they faster he gets to get back to his real work. The work that will make things better for everyone.

Right. Of course.

His shift ends when the store closes, and he’s gone before Pigsy can say anything about his work ethic or ask where MK has been or is going. He rushes to the construction site, dives below, rushing past the decaying plants where there once were flowers and a growing tree. Without Monkey King’s staff, there’s nothing making sure the plants live. MK frowns at the sight but stays focused on the task at hand.

Aim. The staff can be as large as a mountain if it needs to be. Crush what’s in your way.

He nods to himself, breaking through the rubble that has blocked off the tunnel. The ground shakes, the whole underground rumbles with power, and he hopes he’s not keeping anyone up. Then again, it’s not too bad if it’s just for a night, considering how many nights later he’s going to keep quiet. Everyone will be able to rest easy once he’s done.

He huffs a breath, and it comes out white. He should be concerned, but honestly it looks cool. He remembers to blink, because his eyes are starting to burn. He doesn’t know why he keeps forgetting.

He makes his way to the cavern, and uses ice to keep the ceiling up. Pillars rise, frost fills the spaces between rocks that would have cracked and splintered eventually. The floor remains untouched, save for when he fills in the cracks that could trip someone up.

He doesn’t remember when he got these ice powers. They seem new? Why hasn’t he used them before? How come Monkey King never told him about them?

Monkey King’s always had ice powers.

Has he? MK isn’t so sure about that.

You’re his successor, not a carbon copy. It makes sense you would have different powers than him.

Right. MK nods to himself. Now, time to get Yin and Jin! Carrying them is going to be a challenge.

It takes him an hour to get them both there, and another half hour to figure out where to put them. He has to consider DBK’s size. Wait, does he have to go and get the spider demon lady? He shivers at the thought, a deep well of terror sinking in his gut. Even as self assured as he is now, spiders still terrify him.

I can take care of that.

Really?

Yes. But first, rest.

Right. He needs to head back to his house. Pigsy will be worried if he doesn’t come home soon. He heads out of the construction site, skipping all the way home.

He barely sleeps.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The week is certainly a busy one. MK spends any time not with his friends searching, and he spends far less time with his friends, nowadays. The spider demon isn’t easy to find. He does manage to get some small fry lesser demons he hadn’t met before and now never will. He doesn’t need to meet people who will inevitably try to kill him and those around him. Far better to prevent the attack than deal with the aftermath thereof.

His collection of ice sculptures is growing. MK likes to spend time chipping away at the blocks to them more polished. It’s like sketching, in a way, or cleaning up a sketch. It also gives him an opportunity to practice a more precise use of his ice powers. He can make a mean ice chisel now, and he’s learned how to force the limbs of those frozen into the position he likes. Yin and Jin stand on top of each other, like they did in their introduction. The expressions on their faces aren’t what he likes, but he can cover it with frost and it’s like it was never there.

He meets up with Mei, one afternoon.

“Hey, MK!” She barrels into him, and immediately jumps back.

He reaches out, missing the contact, but she shakes out a shiver. “Dang, you’re cold!” She slugs him on the shoulder, and he laughs.

“I feel fine. Maybe you’re just being dramatic,” he shoots back, and she laughs with him, before her eyes glance at his face and she freezes. “What?”

“Your eyes,” she murmurs, all joking replaced with concern. He tilts his head to a side in confusion. “They’re blue?” She adds.

“Oh!” he says, and the words that come out of his mouth don’t sound like him at all. He doesn’t think he thought of them, and he doesn’t feel his lips move but the sound comes out anyway. “I’m trying out some contacts. Do you like them?” He bats his eyelashes at her, all in jest.

Her confusion melts into a smile. “I like your regular eye color better,” She admits. “But those look cool!”

She grabs him by his wrist, using his jacket as a buffer, and drags him to an arcade. Every machine he touches sticks a little, the joystick and button a tad frozen by his touch, and he doesn’t win a match by any means, but he doesn’t mind. Every time Mei leans close to him it feels like a victory. Even though he feels warm, at least a sort of freezer burn warmth, the people around him have pulled away. He’s too cold for them.

He needs contact.

Someone trips Mei as they’re running around the arcade. Her nose bleeds, and MK feels his hackles rising. Someone hurt his friend. A demon? A scan of the area reveals no such thing. Just a mean person. He can hear them snickering as they walk away.

Mei is more important than MK’s anger, so he takes her outside and finds some tissues, cleans her up. He takes her out to her favorite restaurant (not Pigsy’s, though they’ll never tell him that) and they end the night with a race around town. Her bike is an electric green streak, and he’ll never catch up, but he gives it his all before they finish outside his place.

“See ya later!” Mei still sounds a bit stuffed up from the nosebleed, and MK waves until she’s out of sight. When she disappears, his expression shutters, anger against her unrecognizable assailant returning in a flash.

He’s been getting rid of demons, but that’s not enough! Mei still got hurt, because people are unpredictable. He heads to his room and paces. How can he fix it, how can he make it better?

Maybe more than demons should be frozen.

MK stops in his tracks. Now, there’s an idea. But to freeze them forever, that seems like too much.

Not forever. Just until they know how to behave. Think of it as a pause button.

It would be nice if things just stopped for a moment. Then he could have all the time in the world to fix it. Once he gets the demons out of the way, he can do that. Then, once everyone learns to behave, they can come out. However long that takes.

He can be patient, for his friends. This is all for them, after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A day after that, and he’s found the Spider Demon’s lair. Every step he takes inside makes him shake, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to take her. He’s so nervous, so scared.

I can help, remember? Just take a deep breath.

He takes a deep breath.

Close your eyes.

He closes his eyes.

He doesn’t open them, but they open anyway. Everything is washed in a soft layer of white, like frost, and his body moves but he doesn’t tell it to. The fear he felt is muted, and he settles into the comfort of its absence. He asked for this, right?

The spider demon—she wanted to be a Queen, right? MK hadn’t been really paying attention when she went on her rant, too petrified to listen—skitters out, and when she locks eyes with him, she smiles.

“Aww, is the little monkie boy back to play?” She giggles, and MK’s body throws the staff at her. She ducks with a yelp, and scrambles back. “Ooo, we’re rough, now? Seems you’re not so scared anymore,” She purrs, but he can hear the nervousness in her voice as the staff comes back to his hand.

“Iͥ ʷgͣˢoᶰtͤ ͮoͤvͬeˢrͨ ͣiͬtͤᵈ.” The sound comes out of his mouth, and it doesn’t sound much like MK at all. Huh. His body takes a step forward, and ice spreads out from beneath his foot. “Tͭuͧrͬᶰnˢs ͦoͧuͭtʸ,ͦ ͧyˢoͪuͦ'ͧˡrͩe ͪnͣoͮtͤ ᵇtͤhͤᶰeʷ ͦsͬcͬaͥrͤiͩesͣᵇtͦ ͧdͭemͫoͤn ͥoͫuᶠtͬ ͤtͤhere.”

The Spider Queen’s expression shifts, and she tries to run, but MK’s legs are faster. He watches himself move, jumping over stones and cliffs and any obstacle. The webs she tries to trap him in freeze, and he slides across them as if his feet were skates.

Eventually, he corners her. MK watches his body close in, and suddenly he’s back in control, staring her down. Satisfaction crawls up his back, a cold grin splitting his face in two.

“ʷWͪhͦˢoˢ'ͨsͣ ͬsͤcͩaᶰrͦʷed now?” He grins, and she screams.

Ice, it turns out, is a great muffler.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Finding DBK’s hiding place is harder. MK locates it just outside the city limits, in an abandoned scrapyard. The perfect place to get parts for new bull clones and other random things Red Son can come up with.

He decides to go on the weekend, but as he prepares the night before Monkey King makes an appearance in his room.

“Hey, bud,” MK jumps at his arrival.

He must have been hiding as a bug or something, like when MK first found the staff.

“Monkey King!” He grins at his arrival, hopping up. “What’s the occasion? Is there something new you wanted to teach me? Is there a demon we have to fight?” We, not as in MK and Monkey King, but MK and himself. Because he’s not one, not really, and that’s fun! He hates being alone, after all.

“No, no,” Monkey King chuckles, overly fond. Right, MK hasn’t been to Flower Fruit Mountain for a week. “It’s just-you left pretty early, and, uh, you didn’t say anything about our next training sesh, you know? And, uhh, pretty sure you shouldn’t be slacking off on that.”

The half hearted scolding aside, MK almost thinks that Monkey King missed him. But that’s ridiculous.

“Well, you were sleeping when I got up, and I had to go to work,” The lie slips easily off of his tongue. “I didn’t want to wake you, so I left! Um, we’re busy tomorrow, but Sunday works for training, if that’s cool?” He rocks back and forth on his feet, ever excited.

“We’re? Who’s cooler than me to hang out with?” Monkey King reaches out to ruffle his hair, and MK can feel the shiver that jolts through the monkey’s body at the touch. Monkey King doesn’t comment on it, though.

“I promised Mei we’d hang out. It’s been a busy week at the shop, so I haven’t been able to party with her,” He doesn’t know where these lies are coming from.

Sometimes he talks and it’s not him at all. He should be concerned, but honestly he doesn’t mind if his other self takes the reigns. He fumbles over his words way too often to be annoyed that someone is smoothing him out.

Polished like an ice sculpture; MK thinks he could be beautiful if he was like that.

“Alright, fine. You and your friend can….do whatever it is kids do these days. Am I an adult—oh my god I’m an adult,” Monkey King flops back onto his nimbus cloud with a groan while MK giggles.

“Anyway, get some rest, bud. You look tired,” is the last thing Monkey King says to him.

“On it!” MK salutes, and Monkey King floats through the window and then rockets off. The papers in MK’s room all swirl from the blowback, and MK grabs one of the sketches that floats back down.

He doesn’t remember the last time he asked Tang for a story. The last time he sketched anything else at all. But, a hero doesn’t need hobbies so trivial.

He plans. Plans for how the city is going to look like, when he’s finished with it all. He doesn’t need to write down the steps to get there, he has his head voice for that, but the city. How it will look, when he’s done. He has to figure it out, draw it out, and pin it to the wall so he can look at it every morning and evening and remember why he’s doing this. So he sketches. Pins the piece to the wall.

Squints. He doesn’t like it.

Back to the drawing board.

His wall is covered by the time the sun rises, and MK still isn’t satisfied. But there is no time to waste. So, he picks up the outfit that feels all the more new—blue isn’t a color he expected to like, but blue is cold is safe is good is the burning warmth he needs, so he leaves the orange jacket and red headband hanging off of his desk chair.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he can barely tell the difference!

He is gone before Pigsy comes up with breakfast, before Pigsy calls for Tang to look at the mess MK left behind, enough drawings of the same thing for anyone to get the picture. He is gone before Pigsy and Tang investigate, speak in hushed tones, and call for Sandy, Mei, and eventually Monkey King.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Getting to the outskirts of town is the easy part. Infiltrating DBK’s base is a bit harder. It’s not heavily fortified, but MK thinks that’s more because he has never tried to infiltrate such a place. He doesn’t really attack first, he just protects. But that’s not good enough anymore, clearly. He can’t just be protective, he needs to be proactive.

He slides past the guards, freezes them for good measure. After all, they’re going to be made useless once he takes their leader down, so it’s not as if he’s wasting anything. There’s also always the chance they get wise, and MK doesn’t want his entrance ruined.

The inner sanctum of the base looks more like a house, made large to accommodate DBK’s figure. There are pictures on the wall, from painted portraits to black and white to color photos. MK supposes that the Demon Bull Family has been around long enough to have portraits taken in all sorts of mediums. He wonders if they have statues, a shrine? He bites back a giggle at the thought.

The booming sound of cloven footsteps alerts MK to DBK’s arrival, though by the sounds of two voices approaching, Princess Iron Fan must be with him.

“Red Son has been pulling away from us,” the gravel in DBK’s voice is soft, somehow. MK listens in with interest. What is it they are doing to their son now?

“You tried to kill him. He can’t help but take it personally,” is Princess Iron Fan’s reply. “He barely knows you, and he’s young. He’ll grow out of it,” she waves a hand, unconcerned.

MK glares at them. The temperature in the hallway drops, until Princess Iron Fan shivers.

“Darling, I thought this house had a heating function?” Princess Iron fan curls her arms around herself, and DBK picks her up and sets her on his shoulder, suddenly on guard.

“It does, the boy made it so,” he growls, sniffing around for intruders. MK decides to let himself be known.

“Hi!” he says as he pops out from around the corner.

“Noodle boy?” Princess Iron Fan questions.

“Little Thief,” DBK growls.

“Actually, I go by MK,” he corrects cheerily. “But, anyway, could you hold still? This will be harder if you move,” He twirls his staff casually. DBK growls, and Princess Iron Fan places a hand on the side of his face to silence him.

“MK,” Princess Iron Fan starts, with a forced air of politeness. “We are in your debt for helping save my husband. However, if you attack us, we will have no choice but to fight back, and we will not be kind.”

She grins, self assured, and continues “And you know what happened the last time you tried to fight me.”

Fire. Volcanoes. She had tried to kill him and, more importantly, she had made his friends cry. But things have changed, haven’t they?

MK giggles. The sound echoes, and the hallway gets colder. Frost crawls over the walls, and MK looks up with eyes that glow.

“Aͣcͨtͭuͧaͣˡlˡlʸy,ͥ Iͭ ͪtͥᶰhᵏiʸnͦkͧ ˢyͪoͦuͧˡ'ͩllͬ ͧᶰfiͥᶠnʸdͦ ͧmᵏeᶰ ͦʷtʷoͪ ͣbͭˢeᵍ ͦhͦaͩrᶠdͦeͬrʸ ͦtͧo ᶰbͦeͭatͭ ͪtͣhͭaʸnͦ ͧbeͨfͣᶰorͤˢeͨᵃᵖᵉ,” He jumps up with a smile, and sprints forward.

Something dawns on her face, and Princess Iron Fan stands.

“Darling, we need to run,” She says, quickly, but MK jumps and bounces off of the walls and is eye to eye with her before she can explain.

She doesn’t even have time to grab her fan.

DBK jumps back as the block of ice slides off his shoulder and he roars.

“Father?!” MK hears Red Son’s voice from afar and ignores that for now.

“I will tear you to pieces you ingrate!” DBK shouts, and MK laughs.

“ʸYͦoͧu ͨcͦoͧˡuͩᶰlͭdnͤ'ͮtͤᶰ ˢeͭvͦᵖenͫ ͤbʷeͪaͤᶰt ͥmʷeͣˢ wͥᶰhʸeͦnͧ ͬI ͪwͤaͣsͩnʸ'ͦtͧ ᶠtͦrͦˡying!” he shouts back, dodging a blow that sinks DBK’s fist in the wall.

The frost slides from the wall to DBK’s arm, gluing him there. He fires the gun on his other arm, and MK dodges.

“Nͥiͩcͥeͦ ͭshot!” He dances around the room.

DBK takes a step in the wrong direction, and slips on the ice cube that is his wife, dropping to the ground. MK wastes no time, and DBK’s roar is silenced abruptly.

Finally.

“Noodle Boy! What on earth are you doing?!” Red Son looks rather steamed, if the smoke coming off of him is any indication.

“Hi, Red Son! I was just taking care of your parents,” MK gestures to the popsicles on the floor. Red Son stares, face a mixture of confusion and horror, and MK barrels toward him. “Now they can’t be mean to you anymore. You can make fun inventions and not have to be a mean guy all the time!” Honestly, if anything, Red Son should be thanking MK, but MK doesn’t do this for thanks. He takes a few hairs and blows on them, and his clones start to work on moving the new additions to his cave.

“You—” Red Son is at a loss for words before landing on “Give me back my parents!”

See, MK was worried about that. He would likely have responded the same, when he first left his parents.

“But I worked hard to get them out of the way!” MK pouts. “But, I get it. You don’t understand. You just need to ᵍcͤoͭolͦ ͧdͭowͦᶠn,ͦ ͧoͬkʷaͣʸy?” MK reaches out, places a hand on Red Son’s shoulder before he can be stopped, and Red Son is going to freeze too, when—

Red Son explodes, and MK burns.

It’s not enough to melt the ice, no, but MK is thrown back against the wall, eyes wide.

The chill in his bones vanishes with a screech, and all he can hear is screaming. For a moment, something rises within him.

This is wrong.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he can’t be.

He isn’t a bad person, he isn’t cruel. He wouldn’t do this.

He needs to stop, he needs to—

And then the flames vanish, and so does Red Son, and the cold slips back into place with brutal efficiency. MK blinks, tries to remember where he is. Right, DBK and Princess Iron Fan. He got them! Great.

His clones have been destroyed in the blaze, so he makes some new ones, and heads back to base.

A shame he couldn’t get Red Son to understand, but they all will soon enough.

Good job, vessel.

MK feels warm. It burns.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s deliberating back at his hideout about where his newest statues should go when he hears a sharp gasp from behind him. He turns, and Mei is looking at him with something that looks like horror, but that can’t be right. Why would she be horrified by something so beautiful?

“MK?” she starts, cautiously. “What…happened to you? You look really bad, why are you wearing blue?”

“I like the color!” he asserts. “And I’m fine!”

She purses her lips, and then tries again.

“Um...MK. What is this?” She points to the frozen menagerie behind him.

MK does not pout, even though he feels like he should.

“You ruined the surprise,” he grumbles, arms crossed over his chest. “I stopped all the bad guys! See?” he gestures to them. “Now they can’t hurt anyone.”

There’s a pause, before Mei can catch up, where MK asks, “Hey, do you think people would want to put them in a museum?” He taps his chin with his index finger, deliberating.

“How did you...does Monkey King have powers like this?” she tries, a third time.

“No, I don’t,” MK jumps at the sound of Monkey King’s voice. Monkey King floats down on his cloud, hopping off and looking at MK with an air of suspicion. “Kid, how are you doing this? Why are you doing this?”

“‘Cause they hurt you guys,” MK has been itching for a chance to explain, to get someone to understand. “And the-my head voice gave me the idea. Once these guys are all gone, everyone can be safe, and no one will leave!”

“Head voice?” Pigsy comes from behind a pillar. “MK, what are you talking about?”

“You know, the voice in your head that sounds like you?” He explains. “It-it told me how to do it. And I’m not a carbon copy of Monkey King, it makes sense that I’d have a few new powers, you know?”

“No,” Tang appears, from somewhere.

When did all of his friends get here? He can see Sandy, Mo in tow on his shoulder, peeking in.

“You shouldn’t have any deviations. Maybe your transformations would be different, but to go so far as to have ice powers?” Tang pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and his glasses flash. “That shouldn’t be possible, given Monkey King’s power set.”

“What’s going on, kid?” Sandy’s voice is very soft, as he approaches, just like when they were on the boat.

“Nothing!” MK’s voice is cheery as ever. “I’m just fixing things, okay? I think you need to ˢcͪhͧiͭllͧᵖ ʷoͧʲuͥᶰtᵍ,” he reaches forward, and Sandy and Mo are ice.

Mei screams.

“What?” MK looks on, bewildered, as his friends stare at him in horror. “He’ll be fine! It doesn’t hurt. I’ve been freezing for ages! It gets warm after a while.”

His eyes glow, and Tang pales.

“Baigujing,” he breathes, and MK turns to him.

“What about her?” he asks, and Tang puts a hand to his mouth, biting his lip and glancing between the rest of the group and MK, unsure.

“Bud,” Monkey King takes a few cautious steps toward MK, as if MK were a cornered animal. His feet slip a little on the ice, but not enough to stop his careful approach. His tail is poised and very still, not so much as a twitch from it. “I think you’re feeling a bit...um, scrambled right now. Why don’t you hand me the staff, and we can talk about this?” He gives MK a soft smile, but MK frowns.

If he takes the staff you can’t finish your work! Does he think you don’t deserve it anymore?

“But I need it,” he responds, simple and to the point. “It’s mine.” Right? Because Monkey King gave it to him. Gifts can’t be taken back, right? MK’s still worthy, right?

Monkey King takes a deep breath, like he’s biting back a retort.

“Preeeeetty sure I let you borrow it. ‘S called ‘Monkey King’s Staff’ for a reason, bud. C’mon.”

Another step forward. MK grips the staff tighter.

“MK, please,” Tang calls from his other side.

Don’t let him take it!

“We need you to let go!” Mei’s voice hits his ears.

They’re all lying to you!

“Kid-I-c’mon, just let ‘em have it and we can go home,” Pigsy’s voice breaks, and MK feels like he’s going to break with it.

Is he even going to let you keep your home?!

Monkey King is close enough that MK can feel the heat of his power emanating off of him, of the great Sun Wukong. His paws are soft and somehow even warmer than his power as he curls them around MK’s grip on the staff.

They don’t understand! They’re going to abandon you!

“That’s it, easy does it,” Relief colors Monkey King’s tone, and he smiles at MK as if MK were the sun. It’s too soft to be true. “Just hand it over, and we’ll make sure everything’s okay, alright?”

He starts to tug, pulling the staff out of MK’s grip ever so gently, and MK flinches as the voice rings loud in his ear.

YOU NEED IT DON’T LET HIM TAKE IT FROM YOU HE’LL RUIN EVERYTHING—

“It’s MͫIͥᶰNͤE!” MK shouts, and he slams the side of it into Monkey King’s stomach and launches his mentor across the room.

Monkey King crashes into the wall, groaning as he pushes away the falling rubble. MK’s eyes are wild.

“It’s mine, and you can’t have it! I need it!” Ice crawls over his right hand, cementing his grip.

Tang sees it, takes a step back, and turns to the two horrified bystanders.

“Run!” he shouts, and Mei bolts. Pigsy stares, motioning for Tang to run, but Tang is too close to MK to do anything.

“What’d you do that for?” MK frowns, lowering a hand onto Tang’s shoulder. Pigsy makes a choked sound.

“Go! Bajie, get out of here!” Tang shouts, far more desperate than MK expected. Why is everyone so terrified? This is just a misunderstanding.

“Okay, tͭiͦmͦeˡ ͣoͭuͤt ͭfͦorͬ ͧᶰyˢoͣᶰuᶻᵃᶰᵍ,” MK pats Tang’s shoulder once, and Tang is rooted to the spot. MK freezes him slower, because Tang isn’t strong, merely smart. And if he does it slow, then he doesn’t have to chisel away the extra later.

Mei comes roaring in on her bike, and she picks up Pigsy by the back of his chef’s coat, throws him on the back of her bike, and zooms off.

“Tang!” Pigsy screams, but his voice gets farther and farther away.

“What’s wrong?” MK is so confused. He looks to Monkey King, who is just sitting there on his cloud, horrified.

“Sun Wukong,” Tang says, voice hard. The ice is up to his chest. “Get out of here. Bajie is going to be a wreck after this.”

“Can you make sense!” MK throws his hands up, tired of being ignored, talked over, walked over. “Or at least ˢsͪtͧoͭp ͧᵖtalking!” And Tang goes silent, frozen.

MK turns back to Monkey King, and finds that his mentor has vanished.

Well, that won’t do.

After them!

MK jumps onto a disk of ice and slides across stone, feet still as the ice barrels over any obstacle, leading him past the dead sliver of a great mountain and up onto the streets. Mei just has made her way to ground level, aided up by Monkey King, and MK zeroes in on them.

They pass by cars, and MK ignores the blaring horns as he slides over city streets. The ice trailing behind him makes cars swerve out of control, but he needs to get to his friends. They have to understand. This is all for them!

The ice shoots forward, and he gets closer and closer, until Mei’s back wheel hits frost and the back of the bike jerks one way, the front the other. The bike slips onto its side with immediacy, and Pigsy and Mei go sprawling as Mei’s bike falls apart, skidding across the ice.

Oh no.

“Mei!” he runs to her side.

She groans, her bike suit torn. He doesn’t even think about Pigsy at the moment, too worried about his best friend to think of the other person he hurt. Plus, Pigsy’s a full grown adult, and MK has never seen Pigsy hurt like Mei is, so it doesn’t even register that Pigsy could be as injured as she is. Her left arm has a large patch of skin that’s been burnt off by the road, and her legs are bleeding from various places. Thankfully, she was wearing a helmet, so MK doesn’t have to worry about something so serious.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Where does it hurt? I’m sorry!”

Some ice might help with the pain.

Right, right, icing the wound always helps. He goes to make some, the power swirling in his hand, when a horn from a car blares, making him wince.

Gosh, humans. They’re so annoying! If they could just stay out of the way, because he needs to fix this, that’d be great.

Remember the pause button?

It seems very inviting. MK nods.

Right. A pause button.

“Just a sec, Mei,” he leaves her groaning on the ground, turning to face the city.

He slams his staff into the ground.

Ice shoots out in a wild dash. It crawls over and into everything. Cars, buildings, people—everything freezes. He hears some screams, and watches people try and run for the hills, but the cold is faster. It billows down the streets, kicking up a white haze that is almost impossible to see through, that the pedestrians tripping on ice and solidifying get lost in, but it’s a snowy sheen that MK sees through perfectly. He can see the polished figures of buildings, glistening beneath their ice, the little mounds that must be people beneath the thick layer of ice.

It’s all so pristine. So perfect.

Finally.

MK is glad for the quiet. With him and himself in his head, it’s hard to deal with outside noise. He just needed a moment of calm, to get to the task at hand.

The task at hand...Mei!

“Mei, are you—” he stops. Mei and Pigsy aren’t there.

His eyes search for them, and he can see Monkey King hurriedly pulling them up onto his cloud. “Wait!”

Monkey King looks at him, and MK’s face is pleading. He just wants to do right. Why don’t they understand? Once he fixes it all, everyone will be happy. Can’t they wait?

“Sorry, bud,” Monkey King says.

MK doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. A rush of panic tries to grip his brain, something that was once so familiar, something that was once so him, but it disappears in MK’s desperation to act.

The cloud zooms off. He throws a hand out, running after it.

“NO!”

This is just like his dream. At the edge of the city, a wall of ice rises. It sparkles in the light of the setting sun, and MK raises it higher, and higher, as Monkey King and Mei and Pigsy and everyone he cares about most gets farther and farther away.

Monkey King punches through the ice, and they disappear into the horizon.

MK drops to his knees. They land hard on the frozen ground.

“You said they wouldn’t leave,” he whimpers out, crying because it hurts and he doesn’t know exactly why.

It’s more than just regular pain. Something warm and different and yet familiar stings. Something knows this isn’t right, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go! If this was the right thing to do, why would everyone leave?

“I have to stop!” The words are forced out of his mouth.

MK doesn’t know when the words are him and when the words are something else. He doesn’t know who he is. What’s right? What’s wrong? How can he tell?

He’s just been listening to his own head, but his own head is arguing with itself.

He slams his free fist into his temple, to try and make things settle.

Chains drag him to the ground, leaving him stuck.

You are doing everything just right.

The voice is soft in one ear, but on the other side MK hears No! On repeat. No, this isn’t right. You froze good people. Innocent people! You froze Tang and Sandy! You made Pigsy cry! You hurt Mei!

They don’t understand yet. Monkey King is notoriously stubborn. He isn’t ready for his successor to pass him yet. All you have to do is wait for them to come back. And they will.

It’s harder and harder to hear the argument against this.

The voice sounds so self assured. The warmth that doesn’t burn gets weaker and weaker, like a fire out of kindling.

He wheezes, and tears turn to snowflakes on his skin. He chokes on his own breath. It comes out white and fogs his vision, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Everyone’s gone.

He’s alone.

This can’t be right.

It is. You just haven’t done enough yet.

That, MK understands. The need to do more, be more. It makes far more sense that he hasn’t done enough, than anything else.

“They’ll come back?” He asks, and his voice sounds so loud in the quiet. He feels a hand brush his hair back. He leans into the touch, but it’s gone.

Of course.

MK stands. The chains vanish, and he smiles.

“Okay then! Let’s get to work!”

He hasn’t let go of the staff in ages. He doesn’t think he can. He turns to the mess he’d made in his rush job, the frozen city’s statue. He has to fix that, it’s unsightly! Mei and Pigsy and Monkey King won’t like a mess.

As he plans, as he hopes, he feels a smile in the back of his head. It feels like a snowball to his skull, chilling and yet a comfort, somehow.

Wonderful work, Vessel. We’re going to do great things together.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #possession au #monkie kid mk #sun wukong #monkie kid monkey king #monkie kid mei #monkie kid red son #red son #kitkat1003

106 notes · View notes

jkl-fff · 4 years ago

Note

Dipper and Norman, #50

Thanks for the prompt!

Comedy Golem

It was a rest stop like any other in the Northeast. Just a gas station with some picnic tables, surrounded by deciduous woodlands. But the car pulled into it all the same. Two young men—partners in work, partners in life, and partners not infrequently in actions of questionable legality (although “crime” was such a strong word)—then set themselves up at one of the picnic tables, producing sodas and sandwiches from a cooler.

Laying out a map of the Northeast, Dipper gestured towards a sizeable splotch of green in upper Pennsylvania. It was labeled “Alleghany National Forest”, its shape vaguely reminded Norman of an elephant’s head (with an upraised trunk), and it was clearly the epicenter of a wide swath of red post-its marked with names and some rather recent dates. “As you can see, we’ve got its—his? her? their? whatever—probable location pretty well pinned down.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Norman replied around a bite of sandwich. His tone was deadpan, as it usually was (perhaps an occupational hazard of being a Medium … or of spending most of his time around the Pines family and their own special brand of insanity). “Practically pinpoint accuracy, in fact. Only … 1000 square miles of untamed woodlands for us to search.”

“Pff! Untamed,” Dipper scoffed with the kind of elitist scorn only heard from people who hail from west of the Rockies whenever the subject of Appalachia’s wilderness is broached. “Right. Which means we might get as low as three bars during our investigation. How perilous. Besides, it’s barely even 800 square miles—I checked.”

“Of course you did.”

“But, nah, I think I’ve actually narrowed down the location even further. To riiiiiight … here.”

Norman craned his neck to read the spot his friend tapped (after lifting aside the veritable blanket of red post-its covering it, as it was the center of the epicenter). “… Squirrely Stars Campground. Huh. That why they call this thing ‘the Squirrel Hill Golem’?”

“Nah, that’s because the first sighting was in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh called Squirrel Hill.”

“… You’re yanking my chain. You’ve gotta be.”

“Nope.” Dipper gestured to that segment of the map. “Read it and gape in bewilderment. But, considering Pittsburgh has a massive Jewish population and that’s one of its major sectors, sorta makes sense a Golem would first come outta there. My research suggests it was a Rabbi named Mahara Chelmman who made it back in 1997 (although she wasn’t a Rabbi at the time she made the Golem), but that’s not 100% verified; could’ve been two other people.”

Norman considered that, and it all sounded reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate, since he was dealing with a Pines here. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “… So did the Golem run off from Pittsburgh a la f-Frankenstein’s Monster upon being rejected by its … Um. How ‘bout we just use a Third-Person, Singular ‘they’ for now?”

“Works for me.”

“Okay. Yada-yada, Frankenstein’s Monster rejected by their creator?”

That got a shrug in response. “Hard to say. Most accounts suggest everyone was cool with them. They might’ve just, like, decided they wanted to live their own life? It was the 90s …”

“So they ran off into the woods of Northern Pennsylvania for the next … twenty-ish years. Sure. Why not? Lots of mud out here—Golems do need m-mud, right?”

“It helps. Makes it easier for them to, like, heal or regenerate and such. Anyway, I’m thinking you will infiltrate the camp and blend in there—”

“Squirrely Stars,” Norman couldn’t help but smirk at the dumb name.

“—to find out what the people there know, maybe interview some Ghosts, too, if there are any. It’s where the highest concentration of sightings are clustered, so someone’s gotta be able to give us something workable.”

Norman nodded his assent. “Makes sense. I’m g-generally better at talking to people—”

“Right? Those were my thoughts exactly!” Dipper hastened to agree.

“—and not like you can communicate with Ghosts 97% of the time, anyway. What about you, though? If I’m doing the people-work at camp, what’re you gonna be doing?”

“Trek around the area out a ways from the camp. See what traces of the Golem I can forestry up. Footprints, magical energies, that sorta thing. Leg-work while you do the people-work. Also makes sense, right, since I’m better at that kinda stuff anyway?” Dipper asked. In a tone of voice that was … almost leading.

Which instantly made Norman a bit suspicious. But there wasn’t anything in that assessment either of them could disagree with, so he had to concede, “… I suppose you’re better at all the, um, stuff out in the woods—”

“Great!” Dipper was already halfway back to the car. “Let’s get moving! I’ll drop you off there.”

***TWO HOURS LATER*** PARKED OUTSIDE THE ENTRANCE TO A DIRT ROAD BENEATH A SIGN READING “SQUIRRELY STARS CAMPGROUND WARNING: NATURIST PROPERTY”

“Okay, but WHY do I have to be NAKED?!” Norman shrilled at the young man he had, until roughly five seconds ago, thought would always be his partner in life. Whereas now he was thinking that young man was about to be his former partner in life. Because he might kill him. Just straight-up murder him with a hefty tree branch or a sharp rock or maybe his bare hands.

Being a Medium meant their relationship wouldn’t have to end at death, true, but you couldn’t exactly call someone your “life partner” if they were dead. Especially if because you killed them by repeatedly smacking their face into the steering wheel or hurling them right into the sun or strangling them with their own seatbelt. That tended to sour most relationships.

“Look, I realize—”

“WHY does ANYONE have to be NAKED?!”

“Because it’s a nudist colony. Or … Well, maybe ‘nudist resort’ is more accurate?” Dipper mused aloud to himself. “Meh. Either way, ‘cause that’s the no-dress code here.”

“But WHY do I have to be NAKED?!”

“How else are you gonna infiltrate and then blend in at a nudist colony and/or resort? C’mon, man, you gotta think logically about this.”

“Yeah, but … WHY does ANYONE who is ME have to be NAKED?!”

“They prob’ly won’t talk to you if you’re not,” Dipper explained, his manner reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “Like, you’d make them uncomfortable .”

“Oh, well, I c-certainly wouldn’t want them to be uncomfortable!” Norman retorted witheringly.

“It won’t be for long. Just long enough to, y’know, fit in a little and scrounge some info.”

“Never worried about fitting in before,” Norman grumbled. “Don’t see why I should start now. Anyway, if this’s so easy, why aren’t y-you doing it?”

“You said it yourself: You’re better at talking to people, I’m better at ‘all the stuff in the woods’.” And Dipper couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face as he quoted him.

“… I hate you soo much right now.”

Dipper shrugged. “That’s fair. But, seriously though, it’s safer this way, too, ‘cause I’m Jewish.”

Norman blinked. Then he blinked again. “… What?”

“I’m Jewish, so the Golem won’t try to hurt me if they’re acting, like, confrontational.”

Norman shook his head. “Okay, no, I’m calling bullshit on that.”

“Dude, you know I’m Jew—”

“No, yes, I know you’re Jewish,” Norman snapped impatiently. “I mean I’m calling b-bullshit on that being some sorta, like, pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic protection from Golems.”

“Golems exist to protect Jewish people,” Dipper countered, a little condescendingly. “They, like, physically can’t hurt us. Everybody knows that—it’s the first thing you learn about Golems.”

“Even assuming that’s true—and I don’t assume it, in fact, I contest it—how in the 79 Hells’re you supposed, like, to prove your Jewishness (especially to a vaguely humanoid shape made outta mud)? You gotta yarmulke on under that stupid cap of yours I don’t know about?”

“First of all: screw you, my cap is iconic.” Dipper even took a moment to admire his reflection in the rearview mirror, straightened his cap ever so slightly, and made fingerguns at himself. “Second of all: I’ll just say a birkhot or something. Ooo! Maybe even one of the secret ones from the Kabballah! Though a regular one’d prob’ly work fine.”

“Oh, please, I c-could do that. Doesn’t prove anyth—”

“No, you could not. You don’t even know what a birkhot is.”

“It’s like … a prayer and magic incantation rolled into one,” Norman replied (albeit hesitantly).

“Pff! No, that’s not what a bir—”

“In fact, I’m 100% certain I’ve heard you describe birkhots exactly that way,” Norman asserted, not hesitant any longer. “Same way you d-describe the other (and I quote) ‘sorta pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic spells and incantations and stuff’ you’ve got memorized in pre-Catholic Latin and Ancient Greek and Old Nordic for whenever we gotta deal with a … y’know, with a demon-adjacent, supernatural entity.”

Dipper considered that a moment. Then he admitted, “Okay, maybe yeah, that does sound like something I’d say. But the point—”

“HA! Vindication!” And Norman pounded the dashboard in triumph.

“But the point is, I can recite ‘בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הַעוֹלָם, דָיַן הַאֱמֶת׃’ at the drop of a hat—wait! the drop of a freakin’ kippah—with all the additional, apotropaic hand signs … Whereas you can’t even do a basic exorcism or protective spell in any language.”

Norman crossed his arms and sulkily looked out the passenger window. “Well, s-some of us just t-talk to the spirits and such. Like a n-normal, polite person … w-works just fine … ” Eventually, he huffed, “Why in the 79 Hells is a Golem even hanging around a n-nudist colony?!”

“A resort, I think.”

“I will murder you,” Norman stated, as if making a solemn vow. “With … an ice cream scoop.”

“Heh! Love you, too. Soo … does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You haven’t even answered my question.”

“Honestly? No clue. I just kinda assumed the Golem turned out to be, like, a pervert? But maybe they feel more at home among other people who aren’t wearing clothes? But, anyway, will you? … C’mon, Normy-warmy,” Dipper wheedled, his voice taking on a cutesy, coaxing, pleadingly singsong tone. “Pleeeease, Normy-warmy?”

“… That is ch-cheating, and you know it.”

“Pleeeease help me with this Monster Hunt? You just gotta talk to some people (and/or Ghosts). It won’t even take that long. Heck, if the people in there are anything like me, once they see you naked, their brains’ll stop working due to awestruck amazement—”

Norman grumbled, “S-soo much cheating.”

“—and they’ll be soo mesmerized by your sexy body (and beautiful smile)—”

“Why am I dating such an honorless cheater?” But, despite his protests, Norman was blushing.

“—that they’ll be compelled to do whatever you want for, like, the rest of their lives. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”

Feebly, Norman made one final attempt. “…But I sunburn so easy—”

Dipper reached over to open the glove compartment. Inside was a bottle of SPF100 sunscreen.

“… Fffffine. But you owe me big.”

“Deal!”

“I’m talking, like, a solid w-week of pampering.”

“Deal!”

“Romantic dates. Fancy cooking. Back rubs on demand—”

“Deal!” And Dipper punctuated that with a kiss to Norman’s cheek. “Now strip! Oh, but you can leave your shoes and socks on (the nudists aren’t idiots, even if they are sorta nuts). And, also, they usually use backpacks for holding onto all their stuff. What with not having pockets.”

Pulling off his shirt, Norman sighed. “Why do I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this?”

#parapines #gravity falls #paranorman #dipper pines #norman babcock #dipper #norman #jewish #writing prompt #writing #magic #golem #comedy #humor #linguistics #language #folklore #arneyblay2

15 notes · View notes

roseofithaca · 4 years ago

Text

King Takes Knight (Part 5)

Shawn gets just what he hoped for.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

(TW: Torture, captivity, ‘nails’)

This was a glorious day. Victory Day. Maybe he’ll make it a national holiday to commemorate the occasion. Every employee will have a microsecond less work to do than usual. He can be generous like that.

Shawn watches from the stage as a Bad Janet enters, bending the arm of that pesky mutated Good Janet in front of her as she marches her down the steps. Behind them are some generic demon guards who he will have to learn the names of, if only so he can reward them for grabbing a human each between them. The four irritating losers who are behind this whole mess.

He can’t help but laugh! How stupid can they be to have all come at once? Now there’s no one left to run their ridiculous experiment.

“Good evening, dickweeds!” He greets them cheerily, amused by the defeated looks on all of their faces - though Mendoza looks as gormless as ever; “So glad you could attend the show.”

“Oooh, what show? Is it Shrek the Musical?” Jason asks, lifting his chin up.

The large guard holding him gives his arm a painful tug, making the dumbass yelp like a cat with its tail caught in the door.

“I’m afraid not. But I’ll definitely be keen on making you sing soprano when I have them saw your balls off.” He gloats.

With a wave of his hand, he instructs the guards to walk the four of them forward, up the steps, and then force them to their knees at the front of the stage. The Bad Janet struts to stand next to him and Shawn allows her to give him a low five at his side in celebration.

Not that it took much effort.

“I applaud you for trying. But that really was a pathetic attempt to save Michael. You really thought we wouldn’t have Molotov-proofed the doors after last time?”

Tahani turns to tut at Jason; “Told you!”

“Well I told you guys it was a trap but none of you listened!” Eleanor hisses.

Oh, this is wonderful. He would be happy to simply lock them in a room and watch them blame and scrap with each other, just as Michael originally intended, rather than all this wholesome chummy crap that ended up happening. How ironic.

“Such a shame that Chidi couldn’t be here to join you all. I guess he’s busy getting all loved up with his fellow nerd Simone, right Eleanor?”

He grins as that hits a nerve and Shellstrop darts forward, looking to go for him, before the guard grabs her hair and yanks her back down.

“Don’t worry. I have to keep my word to the Judge, after all. So I’ll be happy to let the experiment carry on, with Chidi and the others under the ‘safe’ guardianship of my employees wearing your skin suits.” He taunts them, “They won’t even notice you’re gone...especially as they will, literally, be the same skin torn from your bodies!”

“You twisted wanker.” Tahani glares at him, the British brat suddenly baring fangs; “Where is Michael?!”

“Y’know, she’s so right...Michael should be here to watch us slowly slice that fat skin off of them, shouldn’t he.” Bad Janet sways her hips, looking knowingly to Shawn with that glint in her eye; “Want me to go fetch him and give him the front row seat?”

This Bad Janet must not have got the memo.

“Oh I wasn’t foolish enough to have Michael be here. I just needed these filthy rats to think that’s where he was by the video.” He brags, watching the shock quickly drain the anger on their faces into hopelessness; “I had Michael moved a nice, cosy location far, far away. You weren’t even close to getting to him, idiots!”

“FUCK!” Eleanor swears, not even looking as though she can enjoy the opportunity to curse; “I told you all, it was too easy!!”

“No biggie.” Bad Janet rolls her eyes; “I can still stream him the footage to wherever that dingus is, can’t I? I sooo want him to see us cut Tahani’s hair into an uneven bob.”

“No! No! NOOOO!” The wannabe princess screams until the guard gives her a slap.

The Bad Janet has a point though. It wouldn’t be worth torturing Michael’s precious humans unless he was there to watch it, even if the plan with the Michael-suit fell through. Damn Vicky and Glenn both being blown up meant he had no duplicate to use, especially as he forgot to share the design with other skinsuit manufacturers (shut up, Glenn!).

He’s certain there is very little of Michael’s awareness left after how much they’ve inflicted on him over the past few...well, it was only a handful of months but, thanks to Jeremy Bearimy, he’s endured a lifetimes worth of restraints, freezing, impalement, whipping, electrocuting, bad Adam Sandler movies, and soo much worse. There had been a time when he’d looked into those blue eyes and seen so much raw hatred. Now, whenever he took a glance at his wretch of a former employee, the light was flickering out, as if he’s conscious of nothing except the constant pain and loneliness.

Just like the humans he adores so much that end up here, where they belong. Because they’re terrible and that’s all that needs to be known. He should have left well enough alone.

At least now, finally, Shawn gets to have some entertainment.

“You’re right, Bad Janet. Set up a connection to the Tenth Circle, Sector B. I left one Bad Janet on duty there with Nicole who’s currently ‘taking care’ of Michael. And by that I mean making him very miserable.” Just in case the humans are too dumb to get the expression.

Bad Janet texts on her phone, popping another piece of gum.

“Tenth Circle...Sector B....Got it.” She raises her head, an oddly pleasant smile spreading across it, eyes suddenly bright and pleasant; “Thanks for that!”

“What-?”

The not-so-Bad Janet karate chops him in the side of the head and knocks him to the floor. He hears her make a shout, the theatre spinning around him, unable to find his feet quick enough before the humans get to their feet and surround him.

Shawn blinks, rapidly, as they proceed to take out some rope and tie his wrists and ankles together.

“What is the meaning of this?! GUARDS! DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET THESE STINKING HUMANS OFF OF ME!” He rages, trying his best to break out of their puny hold but they’re, for some reason, freakishly strong.

The Bad Janet continues to smile at him.

“Oh they’re not your guards...and these aren’t the humans. You were being so smug that you didn’t see what’s right in front of you, did you?” She says.

Shawn frowns. What is she talking about?!

He glances up at Tahani leaning over his head, trying to spot the....Oh. Farts.

They’ve fooled him again. That’s no Bad Janet. And these humans have no auras. They don’t even smell! They’re the same as her. They’re...

“Meet my Janet Babies. I produced a bunch more to come with me. We just needed to know where Michael was really being kept and now we do. And I’ve forwarded that to our Team Two so, thanks!”

She gives Shawn a kick in the teeth before her group stand back at her command.

He spits, wriggling, bound and prone on the wooden floor.

The fake Jason stuffs a green stress ball into his mouth to gag him before all of them leave him there, muffled curses being hurled at them, before they lock the door and leave him in the empty theatre. He fucking hates Good Janets!

She likes to use the metal hooks to dig into his flesh and give them a tug, eager to get a reaction out of him despite his near frozen state. Every now and then she’ll manage to hit somewhere extra tender and a whimper will break out of his lips.

She has a schoolgirl's giggle.

“This is like ice fishing. And you’re my big piece of frozen shrimp.” She teases him as they sit in the inside of a giant glacier.

She doesn’t seem to be affected by the code, only wearing a pink slip dress. There’s not even any goosebumps on the arms of her suit..

The new one they’ve left with him is one he hasn’t seen before. She seems new to torture, possibly even new to the slim skinsuit she’s been given, still fascinated by the way her own fingers move. The way she caresses his face and sticks her tongue out makes him suspect she’s some kind of giant leech monster. The kind they used to let suck humans brains out with straws. Or cut their skulls open and lick them out like a kid with a bowl of cake mix.

Definitely not a fire squid, whatever she was.

“I bet Shawn’s almost finished making your buddies feel at home here. If you’re really good to me, Mikey...I might ask him to bring you their heads as a treat.” Nicole, as she said was her name, informs him.

He’s beyond attempting to beg for them to be left alone anymore. He’s beyond expecting any sort of mercy.

Everything he had tried for so long....everything he had hoped to avoid.

All of his efforts for the past few years were for nothing.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... He thinks as more tiny crystallised tears sting from the corners of his eyes.

A loud bang outside makes him start.

Nicole turns to the Bad Janet at the door; “What was that? Go check on it, will you!” she orders like a spoiled brat to her butler.

The Bad Janet rolls her eyes, flipping the bird and then doing as she’s told.

Nicole turns back to kneel in front of Michael.

He tries to escape into his hallucinations but she wants his focus on her. Her hand grips his cheek and squeezes tight.

“I dunno what you did to get the Boss to hate you so much, I don’t really give a toss about current affairs...But m’just glad I get this as my first job! Punishing a dirty traitor...” She runs the tip of an ice pick up his face, towards his nostril; “...And all the other dirty things I hear about you...My mate Kath said you had the hots for one of them humans...You creeps should keep that fetish on the internet where it belongs! Look where it’s got you now...”

She takes a small hammer out from her pocket and puts it to the bottom of the ice pick, shoving it up Michael’s nose.

“I wish you had a brain in there so this could get the same effect it does with those creatures...But the simulation is good enough.”

He wishes he could laugh through the binding in his lips. He wishes that her wish could come true. Give him a lobotomy? Take away his memories of constant failure? Make him oblivious to how he’d loved for nothing and lost everything? She would be doing him the greatest favour.

As it is, he’ll just sit there and take the pain of a nail through his fake skull. He’ll let her have her fix until she gets her reprieve and he’s left alone to his own personal inner torment. His guilt. His regrets.

Just let go, Michael. Just...forget.

Nicole leans in close, ready to fiercely tap; “Hold still. This will only hurt a-.”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her taunting before her skin suit explodes, sending a wave of pink goo across Michael’s face.

He blinks. Something happened.

The ice pick and the hammer clatter to the floor.

Wha...

Eleanor Shellstrop stands at the door, clutching a Bad Janet marble in one hand, pointing Janet’s demon exploder in the other.

#whump #rescue attempt #angst #tgp fanfic #mini fic series

11 notes · View notes

yandere-society · 6 years ago

Text

Day 7 | Hypothermania

Synopsis: Normal people don’t find an upside to dying of hypothermia. But then again, normal people don’t wake up in the afterlife and find they’re able to freeze anything with a mere touch. Of course, you would never use this power for evil… not until hell freezes over. Time to spice up the underworld, just in time for the holidays.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Demon!Jungkook x Female Reader

Admin: @psycho-slytherin

Trigger warnings: yandere themes, mentions of death and dying, blood, strong language

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Cold. you’re cold. Your breath, your blood– you’re made of ice. You’re… sleeping? No, your limbs are too light, your heartbeat too quiet. And you’re cold.

“Where…?” It’s dark. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. The darkness is eternal, as though it’s trying to eat you alive–

Hope. you see a pinprick of light in your mind, and you hear a plea almost destructive in its grief.

Come home. Come home to me.

“I’m coming,” you whisper, your voice echoing from every corner of the darkness. The voice will save you. You just need to follow it. Come home to me.

“Ah!” You open your eyes and cough, feeling as though your lungs were filled with water. Where are you? You’re surrounded by trees, the dim sky growing darker.

Your eyes catch the unnatural blue-purple tinge of your fingertips. Your joints feel stiff, frozen, as you stand up. What’s going on? The last thing you remember is playing hide-and-seek with your friends and family at your annual holiday party.

Your boyfriend was It, and you had found an abandoned animal burrow to hide in. Jungkook had this habit of always managing to find you, but not this time. You felt yourself shivering, the cold seeping through your layers. Maybe you should get out. But when you pressed against the snow-covered entryway, you encountered resistance. You were… trapped?

Okay. You must’ve passed out or something during the game. But then… why are you alone in the woods, and not in the hospital? And why is there a circle of stones surrounding you? You pick up a stone to examine it, when suddenly–

“The hell?” You blink, for the stone has turned silver-blue and freezing cold. Ice. The rock… the rock is made of ice. Is this a prank? Special effects? You drop it and stare openmouthed as it shatters against another stone.

You stand, staring at the shards of rock-ice. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You need to get home. Yes. That’s what needs to happen. Your family, your friends, your boyfriend–

Jungkook. Will he know what to do?

You pat your pockets– of course you don’t have your phone on you, but maybe Jungkook…

Your thoughts are interrupted by a freezing weight settling on your shoulders, spreading upwards from your pockets. What? Your arms have become stiff, restricted by your suddenly immobile sleeves.

Off, get off… you wriggle out of your coat and watch as it, like the stone, falls to the earth with a solid, icy clunk.

“What the fuck. What the fuck.” You stumble towards a streetlight, now visible in the darkness. You’re closer to civilization than you thought, and you reach the road quickly. In your stupor you manage to trip over a crack in the sidewalk, catching yourself on some loose cobblestones which, just like your coat and the rock, promptly turn to ice. “No, no, no– what’s happening?”

Come home to me. Every instinct is pulling you to Jungkook.

“I’m coming,” you murmur, your voice raw. You don’t understand what’s going on, but you know you need to find Jungkook. He’ll help.

As for your hands… you examine them closely as you walk, scared to touch anything. What if you freeze the whole neighborhood? Your fingers seem normal, albeit numb and stiff from the cold.

Wait, you know this street corner. Jungkook’s house isn’t far from here.

Holding your hands away from you, you speedwalk down the snowy streets. The neighborhood is alive with twinkling lights and festive music, and the cold, which you remember like an ache in your bones, doesn’t seem to be affecting you as much– even without your coat.

Jungkook has always believed in you. Sure, it’s only been a few months, but you can trust him. You remember where his house is, but in the time you’ve dated, you’ve never been inside. Jungkook has always bemoaned his messy tendencies, and you understand. But it’s an emergency– and you need him by your side.

You walk up the steps and you’re about to knock on the door when you stop. Will the door turn to ice? You can’t risk it. You open your mouth to call out Jungkook’s name, but a voice from inside stops you.

“Accursed game… humans and their games… well, look what happened. And the summoning, it didn’t even work! Fires of Hades, why didn’t it work?”

That… that sounds like your boyfriend. “Jungkook?” You call cautiously, in case he has company over. “It’s me, y/n.”

“Y/n?” You hear heavy footsteps before the door swings open, and your beautiful, brilliant boyfriend stands in front of you. The sudden relief at finally seeing him makes you want to cry.

“Y/n. Oh, hell, it really is you. I thought I lost you.” Jungkook reaches out to hug you and you step backwards quickly.

“Don’t touch me,” you say, your heart clenching at Jungkook’s puppydog eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, sweetheart,” Jungkook replies, but withdraws. “Here, come in, you must be freezing.”

You gratefully follow him into the living room. Contrary to what he told you, it’s perfectly tidy.

“I just need to know what happened,” you tell him, settling on the couch. “I don’t remember anything after playing hide-and-seek.”

“Ah.” Jungkook pauses. “Well, to be perfectly honest… you died.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask politely.

“You died,” Jungkook says again, louder.

“No, I heard you.” You go to rub your temples before remembering the whole ice thing. “I’m just waiting for you to say you’re joking. It’s been a long day, Jungkook, I don’t need to be teased.”

“Angel, I’m not teasing.” Jungkook reaches for your hand and you flinch, moving away. “We dug you out hours after the game ended. It was too late.”

“What?” You croak, the weight and grief in his voice overtaking you.

“You died of hypothermia last week, y/n.”

The darkness. The voice. The cold, oh, the cold. You were gone, so far from the earth, and yet never having left.

“Okay, stop.” You wave your hands, blinking hard. “You can’t keep saying I died when I’m sitting in front of you like this!”

“Well, yeah.” Jungkook looks at the ground. “That’s sort of my doing. It took so long that I thought it didn’t work at all, to be honest.”

“You… what, you want me to believe you resurrected me?” You start to laugh, but Jungkook continues staring at you earnestly, his gaze filled with such devotion that you actually begin to believe him. “How?”

Jungkook stands, nodding to a flight of stairs that you could have sworn weren’t there a moment ago. “Let me show you.”

You follow him downstairs into the basement, careful not to touch the wall or banister. How are you going to tell him you turned into Elsa postmortem?

“What do you know about dying, y/n?” Jungkook asks, switching on the lights.

You blink in the sudden brightness, adjusting to the empty basement. “Uh, it’s bad?”

“Do you know how people die?”

“If you’re my great-aunt Leslie, you get knifed by your partner after they backstab you during a bank robbery. And if you’re me, I guess…” you shiver, clenching your fists. “You get cold.”

“To die,” Jungkook says, lightly tapping the bare basement floor. “A soul must be summoned to the afterlife by a demon. Or an angel, but usually a demon. We’re all sinners, y’know.”

“Uh-huh…” you decide to play along as Jungkook seems to lose himself in his thoughts. “Now what if a demon summoned a soul, but that demon was on Earth?”

“I guess the soul would remain on earth,” you reply. “But what does this have to do with–”

Jungkook snaps, and you freeze. At his movement, splashes of color reveal themselves: ragged lines of red paint all over the walls, runes decorating the floor, and in the center of it all– a table, on which a bright red circle surrounded a set of items you don’t recognize. But none of this was there before. “What… wha…”

Your boyfriend saunters over to the table. “It was harder, way harder than just summoning you downstairs. I had to make certain sacrifices. But I’ve made a life for myself up here, and I needed you with me. I figured, if dying for humans just means bringing you home to the Underworld, nothing’s stopping me from bringing you here.”

Come home to me. That voice. So it’s real? He’s telling the truth?

“You’re a demon?” You manage.

Jungkook bows. “At your service.”

He can do magic. He’s a demon. Maybe he can help you with the ice?

“Jungkook, I…” You stare at your hands. “I didn’t come back right.”

“What do you mean? Of course you did. Satan himself wrote the summons.”

“No, I mean-” You sigh and look around, eventually reaching for the table. With the deliberate action, you at last can feel the cold flowing through you, pouring into the table and freezing it solid. You step back and see Jungkook, his eyes wide as he looks between you and the now-ice table.

“Hades below…”

“Can you fix it?” You ask simply. Sure, your boyfriend is a demon, and sure, you apparently froze to death a week ago, and the red paint on the walls kinda looks like blood, but you’re pretty certain that if you asked nicely, Jungkook would do anything for you. He’s just that kind of guy. Demon? Whatever.

“I…” Jungkook furrows his brow. “Of course, angel. Even if I have to go to Hades and back. Which, by the way, is an eternal flight.”

“Now you’re just messing with me,” you laugh, about to punch him playfully before you remember. Your hands. “So, uh, how did you bring me back?”

“Usually the summons just requires an incantation,” Jungkook says, examining the ice table. “The dead hear our voices and follow us down. But to bring you back to Earth, where you already lived…” he nods to the array of things on the table. “The summons was more complicated. Some orphan tears here, a bit of a virgin’s flesh there– that one was so easy to get, I can’t believe people are into that stuff– some of your hair, a bit of blood I had stored in the back, y’know.”

“What?” Blood? You step back. “Did you– Jungkook, did you kill anybody?”

A beat. “No,” Jungkook says eventually.

“That was a fucking long pause, Jeon Jungkook,” you reply.

“I thought about it, I really did. Your mom, those friends of yours we were playing with, I mean your damned dog for not finding you sooner. But then I realized…” Jungkook cups your face in his hands, his lips almost brushing yours. “You were hiding from me. So your death was my fault, no one else’s. The only one who should have died is me, and–” Jungkook chuckles quietly. “I can’t even do you that favor.”

“Well, I like you alive,” you say fiercely. “But if you killed my dog I would freeze you before you could say sorry.”

Jungkook raises his hands. “Noted. Anyways, I just talked to the great Master Satan himself, and…”

“Wait, what? When?”

Jungkook taps his head. “All in here, angel. He says we can fix your ice thing, we just have to wait until sunset. And we’ll need a blood sacrifice.”

“We just missed sunset,” you complain. You’ll be stuck with these hands until tomorrow?”

“Guess I’ll have to feed you, if every fork you hold turns to ice,” Jungkook laughs. “In the meantime, Christmas is coming up. Want to use that new ability to decorate? And surprise your family?”

You crack your knuckles. Ignoring everything else, you’re alive, and you’re magic. Jungkook may be a demon, but he’s your demon. And he brought you back home– how’s that for a Christmas miracle?

#bts #yandere #yandere!jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #yandere bts #yandere!bts #boyfriend!jungkook #demon!jungkook #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #demon!jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bangtan

521 notes · View notes

chchanging · 4 years ago

Text

OC Interview — Delilah Hill

Picrew 1 & 3 , Picrew 2

“Call me Lilah,” she grins, barking a friendly laugh, “everyone does.”

Are you single

“Nope! ‘Fraid Az kinda locked this down as soon as humanly possible.” At her own words she pauses, tilting her head in thought. “Demon-ly? As fast as demon-ly possible. And then Sol just kinda...wormed his way in. Barely even noticed things had changed until they had. Feels kinda like he’s always been there, now.”

She laughs happily. “It wouldn’t feel right without them, anymore.”

Are you happy

“Right now?” She perks up, “Yeah, I suppose so! It’s Beel’s turn to cook tonight, and you know he’s actually really good at it when he doesn’t just demolish the whole thing before it gets to the table.”

Are you angry

“Why don’t you ask Lou that question,” There’s a glint in her eyes that seems distinctly mischievous, “he’ll probably say yes every time. It seems like he’s the only reason I’m ever angry anymore.”

Despite her words, she laughs good-naturedly as if remembering something fondly.

Are your parents still married

Her demeanor up until now has been rather joyful, but at this she stills and stiffens as though her spine has been replaced with a curtain rod. For a while she just stares numbly into the distance, jaw ticking now and again as if something is stuck in her teeth.

“Probably...” She hums, tone carefully neutral as she speaks slowly. “They were pretty particular about family sticking together. Can’t imagine that’s changed.”

NINE FACTS

Birth Place

“I think they were living around Detroit when they had me? I can’t recall if the hospital was actually in the city, though.”

Hair Color

She reaches up and twirls some of it around an idle finger. It’s usually a curly cloud around her head, just around her chin, but right now she’s elected to wear it in braids that are half twisted up in a fashionable knot that rests on her shoulder. “Brown. I know it can kinda look black in certain lights, but it isn’t quite that dark.”

Eye Color

“Also brown!” She winks, “aren’t they pretty?”

Birthday

“New Years Eve, so it’s nice cuz everyone’s already partying.” She grins winningly before adding, “Not to mention I always get birthday kisses!”

Mood

“Now or in general? I like to think I’m pretty chill unless given a reason not to be! And sometimes even when I do have a reason not to be!”

She stretches, leaning back in her seat until her back pops, “Did Lou tell you that when they initially brought me to the Devildom I was still half-drunk from a night of partying and the biggest worry I had at the time was where and when I could go back to sleep?”

Gender

She puffs out her cheeks and blows air out through an O in her lips. “Geez, who knows? I tend to let people call me what they want because I’ve never been picky, myself. I do go by she/they’s, though! Just for future reference.”

She waves a hand as an afterthought, “Using them interchangeably is ideal.”

Summer or winter

“Summer! I hate cold!” She tilts her head, thinking a little harder, “Ah, but I love warm clothes! And drinks! Oh, and Christmas! Okay, maybe winter. But, wait—“

Morning or afternoon

“I used to like mornings, but now suddenly I’m in school again.” She smiles sarcastically in what must be Lucifer’s direction. “Not that I wasn’t taking courses back in the human world, but at least the schedule was my choice!”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE?

Are you in love

She flutters her lashes like one is apparently supposed to do when one is in love, lips pulled into an amused smile. “What’s not to love?”

Do you believe in love at first sight

“No,” She laughs as if she can’t even imagine such a thing, “but a lot of things can be confused with love, yeah? So it’s easy to be mistaken. The real thing needs to simmer a bit, I think.”

Who ended your last relationship

“ I was about as good at that as I was at starting them. It’s kind of funny that I’m seeing two people now, this is the first time I’ve done something like that.”

Have you ever broken someone’s heart

“Well, some hearts need to be broken!” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Some people think they’re entitled to a lot more than they really are. Reality bites. Hopefully it taught them a lesson.”

Are you afraid of commitments

She seems to take a moment to digest the question. Her fingers tap a rhythm out atop her thigh and she hums along with a little tune. Then, abruptly she stops, straightening up and smiling a little sadly. “After growing up with paranoid parents, it was kinda hard to know who to trust. They taught me that no one was worth it.” Her eyes go far away, again, like she’s looking into the past.

“I liked being on my own. Or I...thought I did? Then I met the brothers and learned about them a little more. I don’t think I could go back, Y’know? Commitment in any form is scary because it leaves you vulnerable, but I’m realizing that sometimes that can be a good thing.”

Have you hugged someone within the last week

“Of course! Asmo tries to convince me he’d die if he went a single day without one. Mamo gets pouty, too, but he’d never admit it. I can’t just not hug Bee, because I’m not a monster.”

She counts out her fingers a few times and then gives a bashful smile, “Okay, so Y’know I think all the brothers get at least one a week, even if Lev and Mamo try to convince me they don’t want ‘em. Sol is usually the one hugging me, though, so I don’t have to do all the work.”

Have you ever had a secret admirer

“Maybe? No one’s ever come forward. Hence the secret.”

Have you ever broken your own heart

“Now, isn’t that a loaded question?” She hums, giving no sign that she’s going to answer it.

SIX CHOICES

Love or Lust

“Both have their uses,” mirth colors her tone. It would seem her opinion has changed rather recently. “You’ll have to excuse me. When I was a kid ‘love’ was just a word used to control people. I haven’t had a reason to reevaluate until now...”

Lemonade or iced tea

“I like ‘em both as long as they’re really sweet—and that really depends on who makes ‘em.” She sighs, looking a little forlorn, “It’s been so long...not many places down here serve human food. Sometimes Lou brings back something nice for us all, though.”

Cats or Dogs

“CATS!” She answers so quickly and emphatically she nearly falls out of her chair, and when she straightens back up she has to bury her face in her hands and lean forward onto her knees. “I miss my caaaat, dude!”

She shoots back upright, eyes blazing and a little ready. “When I went back after my first year here, almost no time had passed in the human world, so I know Sweet and Sour Sauce doesn’t miss me too much. I’m still trying to get Lou to let me bring her down here with me, though.”

A few best friends or many regular friends

“A few best, for sure! I’ve made better friends in the Devildom than I ever have before.”

Wild night out or romantic night in

She taps a finger against her jaw in thought. “Asmo knows all the fun places to go, so when Solomon’s busy we usually do that. When it’s just me and Sol we usually stay in—and when it’s all three of us, too.” Eventually she gives up, shaking her head, “I’m just happy to be involved!”

Day or night

“I’ve learned to appreciate the night in a place where there’s only darkness” She smiles wryly. “Some things are worth the trade offs.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

Been caught sneaking out

She lifts a single finger in front of a cheeky smile. “I was never really the sneaky type, so you can imagine how often I got chewed out.”

Fallen down/up the stairs

A significant pout forms, “Why do you need to know that?” She sputters, cheeks turning a suspicious red. Sometimes no answer is answer enough.

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt

“Plenty.” Is all she seems willing to say. She studies the nails of her right hand a little too closely to be entirely nonchalant.

Wanted to disappear

“Geez, aren’t we getting heavy?!” She forces another one of her smiles, but it doesn’t manage to be quite as carefree as the others.

“Who hasn’t at least once, am I right? The first few weeks of the exchange program especially were really tough. I hadn’t made any friends, I was in this strange new place, and I lived with a bunch of dudes who ranged from indifferent to openly disdainful. It felt like the whole year was going to be hell—no pun intended.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

Smile or eyes

“Smile! They make eyes prettier, anyway, and I like knowing I’ve made someone happy.”

Shorter or Taller

“Usually I prefer shorter,” She shrugs, a little nonchalant bounce of her slim shoulders, “but I’m pretty average height so it doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

Intelligence or Attraction

“Attraction. If I’m into someone first, smarts only enhance that—but if I don’t like you, being sharp isn’t going to change that. I can respect someone who’s knowledgeable, though, don’t get me wrong.”

Hook-up or Relationship

She lightens up considerably at this, “Relationships! I don’t think I could ever go back to just hooking up now that I’ve got these two goofballs.”

FAMILY

Do you and your family get along

“I get along with the brothers just fine,” She puts emphasis on her words in a way that suggest there’s no other discussion to be had—even if that wasn’t exactly what the question was referring to, it is obvious who she considers to be family these days.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”

She chuckles a little bit. “Maybe? I mean I was living mostly on my own, estranged from my only family, and then I got dragged to hell, so...”

Have you ever ran away from home

“No, I never quite mustered up the courage to go that far.” She says wistfully, “Just waited until I was old enough to move out.”

Have you ever gotten kicked out

“Does being told if I move away from home I shouldn’t bother ever coming back count?” There’s a bitter edge to the smile she gives, but she shakes it off soon enough.

“Oh, well,” She hums, “I’ve been doing fine, anyway. Their loss.”

FRIENDS

Do you secretly hate one of your friends

“Not currently, but sometimes when you’re a kid you hang around certain people just because they’re the only option, Y’know?”

Do you consider all of your friends good friends

She tilts her head to the side, pondering, “There are definitely a couple I’d like to know better—Dia and Barb being two. I also don’t get to see Sim as often as I’d like.”

Who is your best friend

She giggles musically, and almost cheeky undertone to it. “I’d say Az and Sol, but I suppose you mean excluding my boyfriends.”

She kicks her feet idly as she sits, bobbing her head to a song seemingly only she can hear. “Tanner’s—sorry, that’s Satan—he’s really easy to have a long conversation with. We can go back and forth for hours and we’ll barely notice time pass until we finally come up for air and it’s, like, already dinner time.”

Who knows everything about you

“That one would have to go to my boyfriends. Ha!” Her cheeks take on a pinkish tint as she gives a chipper grin. “I doubt there’s anything left I haven’t told them about me. Anything I haven’t heard about them is mostly because they’ve lived a lot longer than I have, so there’s more material to sift through.”

#obey me #obey me mc #wall of mcs #mc: lilah hill #oc template

9 notes · View notes

cursed-ice-spirits · 5 years ago

Text

Assassins Don’t Cry

In this universe, Rebecca is still a loner, still an outcast, still the girl who pushed Merula in her first day at Hogwarts. Her brother is dead from trying to find her curse and her parents are split up, and she’s still sent to the Caldwells, who are still assassins who use demons to kill. But one thing changed. The actions of her mother’s family are released to the world on the day she escapes from them, every kill her mother has made is listed on the Daily Prophet and there are rumors that Rebecca killed a man herself. Some are sympathetic, including the Son of the Boy-Who-Lived (aka Ollie Potter @ryollie), others... not so much.

Rebecca didn’t like Ollie Potter at first. It was not of the boy’s fault but after all the whispers of the ‘Chosen One’s Son,’ she grew annoyed at the slightest mention of him. She never liked gossip or nonsense like that so it certainly didn’t help that much.

So it came as a surprise that she found herself growing close to Penny Haywood, famous for being the most popular girl who drinks in gossip.

Who knew Pretty Penny Haywood would be friends with Rebecca Lord, the loner artist who adores dwelling in Charms? Which is how Rebecca finds herself being pulled out of the library to be introduced to Penny’s new boyfriend.

“Penny,” she groaned, looking longingly at the library. “Do I have to meet your boyfriend?” She asks and wrinkles her nose at the thought. Third-Years and her peers around her are already dating around. Frankly she doesn’t understand the fuss but whatever makes Penny happy.

Penny looked back at her, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I told you, you need to talk to people other than me. I thought introducing you to my boyfriend is a good start.”

“What and shoving me to Talbott wasn’t enough?”

“He’s a loner like you! He doesn’t count.”

Rebecca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Wow, Haywood. How rude.”

Penny only ignored her and merely tugged her to the direction of a young boy with white fluffy hair. “Ollie is one of the sweetest people I know, so I hope he’s a good start to being social and having friends, Merlin knows you need them—“

Rebecca rolled her eyes and tuned her out, and watched as she lifted a hand to cup it over her mouth, calling “Ollie!!” at the top of her lungs, and noted that the boy looked oddly familiar-

Wait a minute, Rebecca thought, realization dawning on her as the boy turned around, finding herself meeting bright green eyes with her own hazel eyes. Oh, motherfucker-

Ollie Potter stood before her, green eyes glimmering curiosity as they flickered from Penny to her. Of course, Penny Haywood would date Ollie bloody Potter, Rebecca screams internally. Pretty popular Penny Haywood with her pretty long hair and sparkling eyes WOULD date Ollie Potter who has a snake and puffskein for pets and emeralds as eyes, what the fuck-

“Ollie,” Penny said happily, pushing her in front of her. “This is Rebecca. A friend of mine. Rebecca this is Ollie.”

Rebecca fought the urge to hide behind the blonde. “Hi,” she said, eyeing him warily. Is he arrogant? Is he kind? She never knows with the rumors.

Ollie flashes her a smile, although his eyes shone with cautiousness. Rebecca approves. “Hi,” he greets back.

It never really went farther than that. Rebecca never voluntarily approached him and they never exchanged a word other than a passing “hello” unless Penny decided to drag her into a conversation, which Rebecca doesn’t really fancy as she ends up being a third wheel anyway. One thing that came out of it was Rebecca’s opinion of him going down to merely “he’s okay” but never more than that. When they did truly talk, it was ironically after their breakup.

Lazily floating through the air, Rebecca held on to her broom with one hand and leaned to the right, a frown flickering on her face when she noticed someone sitting on the fountain lid, someone with white fluffy hair.

She knew only one person with white fluffy hair. Remembering what Penny told her (and did, she thought with a flush) she urged her broom down, hair blowing past her shoulders as she flew closer to the Slytherin.

“Potter,” she spoke up, hovering above his head. She watched him jump and look up, her lips curling into a smile as she watched his expression shift. “A knut for your thoughts?”

“Um…” Emerald eyes flickered away nervously, then back at her and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not going to bite, y’know,” she said, drifting closer to the ground and hopping off. She carefully placed her broom down and sat next to him, glancing over to him. “Penny told me some stuff and I decided to drop by.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes drifting to his lap. “How much did she told you?”

“Only that you two broke up,” she told him, yanking her shoes and socks off and setting them on the ground beside her broom. She dipped her feet in the water and stared as the water curled around them, feeling none of the coolness as she turned a frown to him, “What’s up with that anyway?”

With those words, he spilled. He talked about Talbott and his apparent fling with him, how he obliviated him of his memories with him and how he only recently regained them. Her frown only deepened as he continued on to explain his confrontation with Talbott, which lead to the breakup. Thinking back, Rebecca thought it was strange that he’ll spill his guts out to someone he only knew through Penny but considering she is close to her, it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he told her because of that.

“And I’m assuming you’re sitting here thinking about your feelings for both of them,” she said once he stopped to catch his breath. She pretended not to notice the tears on his cheeks, merely passing him a tissue.

Ollie rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah I… I don’t know whether or not my feelings for Penny are actually genuine, or if it’s because of the memory wipe,” he said softly. “I’m scared that I was using her this whole-”

She splashed water at him with her foot, not flinching when he recoiled, turning wide eyes at her. “Oi oi, stop that,” she said, folding her arms. “Penny doesn’t blame you for this mess. How do you even feel during your relationship with her?”

Ollie opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. “Strange...” Ollie furrowed his brows and drew his legs to his chest. “Like… Like something’s missing.”

“Elaborate.” Rebecca moved her feet back and forth, watching the water swish around her feet.

“It only grew stronger as I dated her,” he continued. “Sometimes during a date, I’d reach out to touch her face and then get a weird flashback of doing the same to someone else, someone I now remember as Talbott,” he mused softly.

Rebecca held her temple. “Oh dear, this is a mess.” She held up a finger. “I’m going to be very very harsh here, but it’s realistic and I don’t like sugarcoating things.” She looked at him in the eye. “Either way, both of them are going to be hurt. Talbott is going to be hurt and even if you say that you don’t care, he’s still someone you loved in the past and before that, a dear friend. Penny’s going to be hurt too. Whatever if it’s you choosing Talbott or the feelings you had for her really is because of the memory wipe.”

Ollie flinched violently and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to hurt her,” he murmured. “She’s a nice girl — I was happy with her, really.”

“She’ll move on. Both of them,” Rebecca said, feeling pity. The poor guy, stuck in such a horrible mess. “Heartbreak is hard.” She closes her eyes, remembering the deep ache that she can’t place a finger on what it means months before. “The only thing we can do is move on.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes flickering to her. “You would know how that feels, right? You liked her.”

Rebecca’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t like her that way,” she denied. “Did I…?” She trailed off, thinking about her times with Penny. The pain in her chest whenever she saw her with Ollie, the butterflies in her stomach when she smiled at her… “Oh Merlin, I did.”

Ollie gave her a little smirk and despite the fact that it was at her own expense, it makes her pleased to see it. “I noticed you always have this pained look in your eyes around us and sorta pieced it together,” he admitted. “Your eyes will always linger on her. She makes you happy, right? I know you make her happy too.”

“I’m not going to be a rebound for her,” Rebecca said quietly. She bit her lip and thought about her curse, trying not to think about her inevitable death. Not wanting to turn the water to ice, Rebecca drew her legs to her chest. “And it wouldn’t work out. I don’t have feelings for her anymore. I moved on and I don’t want to force myself to like her again.”

“Well, Penny was a rebound for me in a way.”

“Potter!”

“In a way! I…” he trailed off and frowned at her. After staring for a few minutes, he pushed, “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you moved on? You really don’t like her anymore?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Rebecca folded her arms defensively across her chest. “What are you going with this, Potter?”

Ollie cocked his head to the side, still frowning. “You don’t look like you’ve moved on. You sound unsure, less certain.”

Rebecca opened her mouth, then closed it as she thought about her feelings toward Penny. “I don’t really know, but I’m not in a rush to figure it out. I’ll know eventually.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should do the same. Take a break from romance. Think about your feelings. Love is complicated and this whole situation is messy, so maybe time will help you think.”

Ollie averted his eyes. “Maybe. I don’t know, I’m just confused on how I feel. About both of them.”

“Love is complicated,” Rebecca repeated. “Love sucks and burns you from the inside and leaves you wanting more. Yeah it’s beautiful and it keeps you going, but it also hurts you. It takes time to figure it out and it’s exactly what you need right now.”

“I… guess,” Ollie said, closing his eyes. He gave her a small smile and Rebecca immediately pushed away the feeling of awe raising inside of her. “Thanks, Rebecca.”

She patted his shoulder and pulled away, lifting her feet out of the water to pick up her broom. “Not a problem.”

—————

4th Year was off to a great start. After the horrible summer she had, she’s been getting flashbacks upon flashbacks and it certainly doesn’t help with all the negative spotlight on her. She’s learned to never walk alone unless she wanted to be tripped and it’s fairly easy, finding herself walking with Andre or Penny to classes

But she can’t be so lucky continuously, because Andre and Penny don’t share some of her classes. They can’t stick with her 24/7. So it’s really no wonder she finds her foot getting snagged against something and proceeding to tumble to the ground hard.

In the corner of her eye, she notices someone moving toward her, only to be pushed away by a wall of people that circled around her. She appreciates the effort though, even as a foot slams into her side.

“Seriously?!” Samuel Lockwood laughed as he looked down at her, smirking. He was the one who tripped her. She knew this for sure. He kicked at her again. “You’re still here?”

“Stop crying for attention,” Someone— she can't tell who it is, but it was familiar for sure — sneered, aiming a kick at her. “We know you’re not the victim here.”

“Murderer.” Kick.

“Why would Dumbledore let someone like you be in school?” Kick.

“No mommy to protect you here.” Belinda Murray sneered. Kick.

“You’re no better than a death eater.” Kick.

“Hey—“

“Nobody wants a murderer here.” Kick.

“Get out while you can. It’s better for all of us.” Kick.

“Egwu and Haywood really lowered their standards for you huh?” Kick.

A long time ago, she would have fought back with everything she got using her teeth and nails, but she’s not that person anymore. Her time with the Caldwells taught her fighting back will only make it worse and that lesson won’t be unlearned anytime soon. Rebecca felt herself going slack, letting blow after blow rain down on her. Just let it happen and it’ll be over soon…

“Hey!”

Slowly, the kicks stopped. Confusion swept over her, and she lifted her head just in time to see Ollie driving his fist into Lockwood’s gut, a furious expression etched on his face. Rebecca winced as Ollie grasped Lockwood’s collar, swinging back and punching him in the face and covered her eyes, peeking from under her fingers and staring in disbelief at the scene she’s witnessing, because it’s the first time someone other than Andre or Penny defended her.

“Ollie?”

Ollie glanced at her and dropped Lockwood like a rag doll. In seconds, he moved to her side, smiling gently despite the fact that he just beat up one of her main bullies. “Hey,” he said, stretching out a hand to her and letting her take it, before wrapping his hands around her arms and pulling her to her feet. “Let’s go. We need to get you to the Hospital Wing,” he said, then shot everyone around them a glare, “and away from these scum.”

Averting her eyes, Rebecca refuses to look at him, opting to instead lean her weight against his shoulder. Not that it was hard. She felt a hand taking her arm and wrapping it around his shoulders, and she has to force herself not to recoil away.

There’s this sort of… ringing in her ears that drowns out the whispers that rose as Ollie tugged her pass the crowd. She doesn’t need to hear the whispers to know that they’re talking about her, not even with Ollie’s frequent glares aimed at the crowd around her. Too busy trying to put one foot over the other, she doesn't realize where she’s going until her foot hits something hard.

Stopping in her tracks, her eyes slowly moved down, going first to her bag, ripped up with one of the straps cut cleanly off, then to her ink-soaked textbooks laying haphazardly on the ground, and finally, her sketchbook ripped and shredded beyond recognition.

Ba-thump. She can’t seem to move. Everything in there, her dreams and passions and the love poured into its pages ruined and gone.

Ba-thump. And then Ollie is standing in front of her, holding her shoulders gently in his hands as he calls out her name, his brow furrowed with concern, concern that only grows when she doesn’t respond.

Ba-thump. She can’t fucking b r e athe

They must have stolen it from her while she was being beaten and ripped it up. Lockwood’s work, she can see his h an dwr i ting, etching slurs and insults on the remains of the pages.

The archer tugs back the string, releasing the arrow, and her world comes crashing down, and a single tear rolls down her cheek

“Caldwells don’t cry.”

She doesn’t need to look up to know it's her grandfather and her shoulders raise in panic, trying desperately to suck in air and failing and failing and failing. Phantom hands are wrapping around her arms and throat and squeezing tightly and she can’t breathe. Get off get off get off get off-

STOOOOOPPPPP.

A wave of calmness suddenly washed over her. It sends shivers of warmth down her arms, her legs, her torso, splashing over her like a warm hug. It’s soft, kind, and it makes her relax… and she hates it. She has never been fond of things in her mind and if it can force her to calm down like this, it gives her a reason to hate it even more. She had struggled against it, panic rising at the foreign presence in her mind even as a voice drifted in her mind, drowning out her grandfather’s voice. But the more she struggled, the stronger the calmness grew, and eventually, her vision clears and she finds herself stumped on the ground. Through blurry vision, she can see Ollie sitting at a respectful distance, talking gently.

“Can you hear me now? Nod once if you do. Good good, slow your breathing. You’re still gasping for air. Breathe in to 4. Breathe out to 4. 4 in. 4 out. That’s it.”

Slowly, she started getting back to reality. The calmness is still there and she hates it, she doesn’t know what it is but it manages to keep her calm and she wants it out of her head if it can control it. She doesn’t know what it is, but it’s coming from Ollie and she doesn’t like it. When he saw her breathing slow into a normal rate, he smiles and reaches over, stopping when he sees her immediately flinching away from his hand.

“Can you get up?” He asked softly. She shook her head and jerked it away, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m going to pick you up, okay? You still need to get to the hospital wing.”

Rebecca doesn’t answer, even as he carefully hoists her on his back and starts moving to the Hospital Wing, even as he carefully pushes through the corridors.

Because she doesn’t think she’ll ever see him the same way ever again.

—————

Rebecca never seems to be able to sleep in the hospital wing. Every time Pomfrey told her to rest and every time, she ends up laying on her back and staring at the white ceiling, watching the time tick by. Her hands were covered with gloves and spelled with a sticking charm so she won’t pick at her cuticles from sheer boredom, and her sketchbook is still destroyed, so she can’t draw. But either she attempts to go to sleep, or run around the hospital wing and risk agitating her injuries AND angering Pomfrey.

So attempt to sleep it is.

Groaning, she rolls on her side, ignoring the dull aches in her side, and goes to close her eyes, when she hears flapping wings whooshing over her head. It can’t be Aurora, it’ll be silent. So, opening her eyes, she very nearly jolts out of her bed when she finds herself face to face with a white crow seeing by her bedside.

“WHAT THE FU—” She starts to shout, before the bird shifts from a bird, to Ollie bloody Potter, who jumps on her bed and slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Shush!” He whisper-yells, sounding panicked. “Do you want to wake up Pomfrey?”

“I’m sorry if I’m surprised when I find right in the face of a white crow, who - by the way - was you!” Rebecca whispered to him, pulling his hand off her mouth and scooting over to allow him room to sit. As mad as she is about… whatever that was, maybe he’ll be here to explain. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Ollie shrugged and sat cross-legged on the bed. “I wanted to check on you and give you this,” he murmured, pulling out a sketchbook, her sketchbook. “I managed to fix it while you were here — I had a lot of trial and error but it’s good as new And… I was a bit impatient to wait until morning.”

“My sketchbook!” Rebecca gasped, taking it in her hands with care. It's definitely it. It has her name on it. She carefully flips it open. The pages weren’t shredded and she can see the lines where the rips were. The stitching is back to its normal tension and even the best ends were straightened out. None of the slurs and insults were written on her drawings. It was as if nobody touched it. “Thank you but… Check on me?” She frowned, carefully sitting up. “Why? You’ve done enough when you forcefully calmed me down and took me to the hospital wing.”

She didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but it did because he flinched and looked down guiltily. “Right, about that,” he sighed. “I’m… sorry for being terrible at comforting you.” She folded her arms and waited as he struggled with his words. “I’ve never been good at comforting people, at all, so I always took the easy way out. I’ll never know what to do if I didn’t have my veela powers-”

Her eyebrows went up. “You’re a veela?” She blurted out loudly before she could stop herself. Wincing, she lowered her face again. “That’s what the feeling from before was?”

A flash of amusement flickered over his face. She couldn’t see in the darkness very well, but she knew it was there. “Yeah, only ¼ though. My father was ½ and my grandmother was full veela. You didn’t know?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “People talked about the Son of The Chosen One so many times, it’s getting a bit creepy. I’ve long since tuned them out. I wanted to know about people when I talk to them, and not from other people who have already formed a biased opinion of them. Don’t look so surprised,” she told him, seeing the agape look on his face. “Why do you think I never looked at you with starry eyes?”

Ollie closed his mouth and his shoulders relaxed. He’s smiling, contented; relieved even. “Sorry,” he murmured. “People look at me and never think of just Ollie. They just see the son of Harry Potter.”

She sighed. “Too bad for them. They don’t see the real you. By the way,” she reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I forgive you. You did it in the only way you know how to. Just… don’t do it without warning me next time unless you absolutely have to, alright? Promise?”

Ollie smiles wider and touches her hand. “Promise.”

#this is so bad and im sorry it took so long but i hope it makes you happy #ily ness #ollie potter #penny haywood #rebecca lord #lockwood gang #hphm #hphm fic #hphm fanfiction #hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery #lunar writes

14 notes · View notes

minijenn · 6 years ago

Text

Universe Falls Chapter 69

AN: Heyoooo well this one’s finally done, thank god we’re so close to the end of arc 7 I can almost taste it. Anyway, this is a fun little chapter with some deeper stuff in it that I quite like. So I won’t keep you from it. Enjoy!

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/186319809934/universe-falls-chapter-68

***

Chapter 69: Crash Site Omega

KTIT GSYW GRFUZKD GA PUNU MKU TVQC RETF E YHWB FKHWZH HEZAA G SSOVKT YQTZ FCD CKAFE ST EBP YTCCHIXER NC ONHDIVIR RVOEBPW

With the drill finally finished as it was, no one saw too much of a reason to put off using it for too much longer. Especially considering they were on something of a tight time constraint when it came to dealing with the problem it was created to subdue. Still, before sending the machine on its maiden voyage through the surface of the Earth, pretty much everyone had mutually agreed on preforming a few final tests on it first. Given their close involvement with the technical side of the drill, this was a task that Peridot, Pearl, and Ford in particular had volunteered to undertake. To further ensure the drill’s soundness and stability was up to par, the trio had invited McGucket to come over to the barn to help them with their checks, given that he was largely responsible for creating the machine’s blueprints in the first place. For the most part, their tests all went off without any hitches, and save for a few minor quick tweaks and fixes here and there, the group soon enough decided that the drill was finally ready to plunge through the depths of the Earth to rid it of the threat the Cluster posed once and for all.

But that was a feat for tomorrow. For tonight, everyone had decided to take the rare opportunity to relax and rest up for the daunting task ahead of them instead. The Gems, kids, and scientists alike had all gathered around a strong, roaring campfire, the drill proudly reflecting the flames as it sat positioned nearby. True, they all had plenty to fret and worry about, from their no doubt dangerous trek down to the Cluster in just a few hours, to the dreadful alliance between a certain demon and a certain Diamond they still knew so very little about. But for just one night, they had all mutually agreed to let those fearful thoughts go and simply take some time to revel in their successful project and enjoy each other’s company, in the hopes that they’d have even more time to do so once the Cluster was no more.

A round of amused laughter arose from the group around the fire, largely as a result of Peridot’s first attempt at trying to roast a marshmallow over the open flames. Of course, no one had warned the green Gem to not shove the treat into her mouth while it was still on fire, resulting in a panic that was more than entertaining for everyone watching on.

“Gah…” Peridot let out a sigh of relief as she finally managed to cool down. “Why is it that every edible object on Earth is so… scalding hot?”

“Aw, Peri, clearly you’ve never had ice cream before,” Mabel remarked, still chuckling. “It’ll change everything you thought you knew about Earth food, trust me.”

“…But that doesn’t make any sense,” the green Gem frowned, confused. “Ice is a solid object. It can’t be ‘creamed’!”

Of course, this observation only elicited another bout of laughter from the rest of the group, much to Peridot’s continued bafflement. Even so, the subject was soon changed by Steven as he glanced over at the drill with a small, content smile.

“We actually did it,” he said, looking to the others warmly. “We built a drill, all on our own!”

“Well, we couldn’t have done it without my technological expertise,” Peridot proclaimed somewhat haughtily. She recanted somewhat, however, upon noticing some of the rather critical glances being sent her way. “A-and without Pearl’s surprisingly invaluable assistance.”

“And without Ford’s immense knowledge of advanced machinery,” Pearl added pointedly.

“Or without Fiddleford’s impressive engineering experience,” Ford finished, sending his old partner a knowing smile.

“Aw shucks,” McGucket scratched at his beard humbly. “We all pitched in to get this here dohicky up n’ runnin’. Its something every one of ya’ll should be plumb proud of.”

“You’re darn right I’m proud,” Amethyst smirked, reclining back in her seat. “I helped lift a ton of old junk around to help get that sucker built. Better be worth it.”

“We’ll find out tomorrow,” Garnet remarked, vague as ever.

“W-well, even if it doesn’t work-”

“Which it needs to, otherwise we’re all DOOMED!” Peridot interupted Steven dramatically.

“Thanks for the reminder, Peridot,” Dipper deadpanned lightly. “Its not like that thought hasn’t been looming over our heads for the past several days now.”

“Hmph, well if its not then it certainly should be,” the green Gem retorted, not following his clear sarcasm. “Otherwise, what was the point of any of this?”

“…Even if it doesn’t work, which hopefully, it does,” Steven picked up where he had left off. “It was still a lot of fun to work together to build it. Even if we did run into a few… bumps along the way.”

“Yeah, like when you guys beat the snot out of each other in giant robots to decide who’s in charge,” Amethyst grinned, putting her fists up playfully.

“Or when Dipper had to go ask his girlfriend for help to get that shiny titan’s ore stuff,” Mabel teased, elbowing her brother wryly.

“Mabel, for the last time, Pacifica is not my girlfriend!” Dipper huffed defensively.

“Not yet anyway…” Garnet muttered with a small grin, though no one really heard her.

“Well, regardless of a few setbacks, at least this time, we didn’t have to resort to getting parts for the drill from Crash Site O-” Pearl cut herself off before she could continue, particularly upon seeing the wide eyed glances her teammates, Ford, and McGucket were sending her way. Glances that were more than enough to get her to change her tune entirely. “O-oh nothing! Never mind! Did someone say something about a crash site? Please, there’s nothing like that anywhere near here, I can assure you!”

“Niiiiice, P,” Amethyst scoffed, amused. “Real subtle, just like always.”

“Crash site?” Dipper asked, instantly curious. “What kind of crash site? And what did you mean about getting parts from it?”

“Is it a car crash?” Mabel asked, equally intrigued. “A bus crash? A blimp crash?! Oh, maybe it’s a big boat crash, just like in that movie where the boats hits an ice burg and the dreamy guy dies at the end. Augh! I can never get through that one without crying!”

“Neither can I!” Steven added just as emotionally.

“Ok, so can we get back to this whole crash site thing?” Dipper interjected, still intent to know more. “Please?”

The adults among the group all exchanged something of an apprehensive glance, as if they were all in on a secret they weren’t entirely sure they wanted to divulge. Which, by most accounts, was actually quite close to the truth of the matter. However, when they finally did make the unspoken decision to break the seal on this secret, Ford was ultimately the one to do it, albeit not in the way any of the kids were hoping for.

“The ‘crash site’ Pearl was referring to is… properly known as Crash Site Omega,” the author began, treading the topic carefully. “Or at least, that’s what I personally decided to call it years ago. And as for what it is…. Well… that’s… confidential.”

A unified groan of disappointment arose from all three of the kids, and even Peridot, who had gotten rather invested in the mysterious matter herself. “Oh, come on!” the green Gem whined petulantly. “You can’t just bring up something with a self-important name like ‘Crash Site Omega’ and then not tell any of us what it is! That just isn’t fair!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m totally with Peridot on this one,” Dipper agreed, crossing his arms. “I thought there weren’t supposed to be anymore secrets between any of us, so why are you guys still keeping this one?”

“That’s simple,” Garnet spoke up calmly. “If you kids actually knew what and where Crash Site Omega really was, then there’s no doubt you’d all try to go there yourselves. And believe me when I say its far too dangerous for any of you to try to go alone.”

“Whoa, so its gotta be something really cool then!” Mabel gasped, fascinated. “All of the super-dangerous places we end up going to usually are!”

“Yeah, its pretty cool,” Amethyst remarked casually.

“Amethyst!” Pearl hissed at the purple Gem through her teeth.

“What? It is.”

“W-well, even if it is cool, I’m afraid you kids don’t need to know anything more about it,” Ford concluded succinctly. “At least not right now.”

Once again, the kids all unanimously deflated at this, clearly dejected by this barring of such potentially interesting information. Even so, Ford and the Gems were firm in their resolve to keep the knowledge of Crash Site Omega and anything pertaining to it to themselves. McGucket, on the other hand, clearly had quite a bit more sympathy towards the kids’ shared sense of disappointment, even if he did understand just as much as the others did that withholding the truth was for their own wellbeing and safety. Which was why he was the first to make a concentrated effort in trying to make up for it somehow.

“Well, gee…” the inventor frowned knowingly. “I sure do hate to see you kids wearin’ such sour faces. Y’know, maybe we can’t tell ya’ll much about Crash Site Omega itself… but I don’t see why we can’t tell ya about the rip-roarin’ adventure all of us had the first time Stanford and the others all dragged me out there.”

“Oh! Yes, I… suppose there’s no harm in telling you kids about that,” Pearl said thoughtfully. “Just as long as we don’t divulge… too many details.”

“Yeah, sure I mean, it’s a pretty fun story anyway,” Amethyst shrugged. “Ya know, outside of the several times where we almost died!”

“Oh, come now!” Ford exclaimed, disgruntled. “We didn’t inch close to death that many times on that expedition. Especially when compared to some of our… other endeavors back then.”

“Hey, hey!” Mabel interupted, raising her hand enthusiastically. “We wanna know about how you guys almost died! Right, guys?”

“Yeah!” Steven chimed in excitedly. “Well, ok, maybe less about the whole dying part and more about your adventure. It sounds like it was a lot of fun!”

“Yeah, sure I guess that works,” Dipper added somewhat halfheartedly before muttering the rest of his statement. “Though telling us what Crash Site Omega really is would be way better…”

“Well, for now, this will just have to suffice,” the author said, taking in a deep, leveling breath before beginning the harrowing tale. “It was over thirty years ago. The Gems and I were just starting to conceptualize our plans for the portal, and Fiddleford had only arrived just a few days prior to lend us a helping hand on the project…”

***

1981

Ford could scarcely remember a time in his life when he had been more excited about the future than he was now. His research of Gravity Falls and its countless unique anomalies had already proven to be a massive success and then some, thanks to the invaluable help provided by the Crystal Gems over the past few years. But the bold endeavor he was setting out to undertake now was bound to completely blow all of that entirely out of the water. With this machine, he was certain that they’d be able to uncover untold secrets about both the known and unknown universe, opening the door to scientific marvels unlike any ever seen before. But before such a grand dimensional leap could be taken, said machine had to be built first.

That was where the help of his friends came in. Already, Rose and the other Gems had readily agreed to help on the project in any way they could, help that Ford knew he’d never be able to thank them enough for. But what was even more exciting was the fact that his treasured old colleague Fiddleford had heeded his call to join the cause as well, journeying all the way from California to Oregon. From the moment the inventor arrived a few short days ago, the author had already been enjoying his friend’s welcome company and amusing quirks immensely, from his knack for solving Cubic’s Cubes in record time, to surprising skill on the banjo. Even if Fiddleford carried a few habits that Ford wasn’t particularly fond of, such as chewing tobacco and his overly-superstitious nature, he couldn’t deny that the brilliant calculations the inventor was contributing to the portal project had already made it more than worth the author’s time to ask him to lend his aid.

In fact, it was through one of those very calculations that Fiddleford had managed to pinpoint a critical flaw in Ford’s plans for the machine thus far. Apparently, the purposed portal’s highly advanced technical caliber would require an equally advanced power source to keep it running. A Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive, to be exact.

“Which means we might as well pull the reigns on this project here n’ now,” Fiddleford shook his head mournfully as he slapped his notebook shut. “On account of the fact that humanity is ten thousand years away from even comin’ anywhere close to even tryin’ to invent one!”

Despite how distraught his partner was over this insurmountable setback, Ford merely grinned confidently, as if he wasn’t even bothered by it at all. Which, by and large, he absolutely wasn’t. “Well then, aren’t we incredibly luck that I just so happen to have a handful of friends who know exactly where we can find such a device.”

Needless to say that Fiddleford was beyond baffled by such a bold claim. Even so, Ford wasn’t entirely keen on spoiling such a monumental surprise so easily, which was why he implored the inventor to return early the next morning, and, more importantly, come ready for a grand expedition that would span two days at least, if not more.

Confused as he was by such an odd request, Fiddleford complied, arriving at the author’s home at dawn the next day. The inventor was still rather sleepy as he stepped into the den, camping pack slung over his shoulder as he readily accepting the piping hot cup of coffee Ford offered him. “So are we settin’ out on whatever skullduggerin’ misadventure you have planned for us any time soon, Stanford?” Fiddleford grumbled upon noticing that the author was making no clear steps towards leaving. “Cause if not, then I might as well just mosey on back to bed.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Fiddleford,” Ford assured with a knowing smirk. “We’ll be leaving very shortly. Just as soon as my… mm… friends arrive.”

“The same ‘friends’ you mentioned yesterday, I’m guessin’?” Fiddleford raised an eyebrow.

“The very ones,” the author nodded. “They’ve been gone on a lengthy mission across the globe since before you arrived a few days ago. I… had planned on introducing you all under slightly different circumstances, but this works every bit as well.”

“…Do I even want to know what you originally planned for us meeting?”

“Oh, through a group outing to study Gravity Falls’ invasive barf fairy population, of course.”

“…Charmin’,” Fiddleford deadpanned. “Real charmin’.”

At that moment, an enthusiastic knock on the front door resounded throughout the house, one that Ford didn’t hesitate to hurry to answer. “Ah, perfect timing! They’re here!” The author stopped short just shy of the door to turn to his partner one more time. “Fiddleford, I’d like for you meet none other than… the Crystal Gems!”

With that, he boldly opened the door to reveal a quartet of women that Fiddleford had to do a double take on just to make sure they were really real. Their ethereal, frankly magical appearances were truly something to behold, and yet there they stood, crowded in the doorframe, the largest and pinkest among them also bearing the widest, brightest smile as she greeted the author warmly. “Ford!” she exclaimed, happily sweeping him up into a tight, friendly hug.

“Heh, y-yes, its great to see you again too, Rose!” Ford laughed tightly, clearly caught off guard by the sudden, almost choking embrace. Fortunately, Rose was quick to release it to set the author back down on the ground. “So, how was Greenland?”

“Oh, you know,” Pearl spoke off with an offhanded smirk. “Nowhere near as green as its neighbor right across the sea, Iceland, usually is. But tolerable, all the same.”

“But its waaaaaay better to be back home,” Amethyst said, leaping up onto one of her favorite perches: Ford’s shoulders. “Ya got anything for me this time, science man?”

“Well…” the author rummaged through is camping pack for a moment. “I do have these jelly beans, but they’re for me to take on the-” Without any warning, the purple Gem snatched the bag of snacks out of his hand, tossing it into her mouth and swallowing it whole. “Well, they were for the trip… Ah well, either way, there’s someone here I’d really like you to meet.” Ford stepped aside so that the Gems could finally see the clearly awestruck Fiddleford, who honestly had no idea how to really react to them at all. “Rose, Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, this is my former college classmate and close personal friend, Fiddleford McGucket. Fiddleford, this is Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and of course, Rose Quartz. Otherwise known as the Crystal Gems.”

Fiddleford took in a deep breath at this, adjusting his glasses to properly greet these bizarre women. “I-I’m much obliged to meet ya-”

“Oh, wow!” Rose interupted, stars in her eyes as she regarded the inventor. “There’s another Ford!”

“W-what?!” Ford and Fiddleford both exclaimed in confused unison.

“Well, you said so yourself,” the pink Gem pointed out innocently. “You’re Stanford,” she nodded to the author before pointing at the inventor. “And you’re Fiddleford. Which means now there’s two Fords! How exciting!”

“Oh! Can we call this one Fiddle?” Amethyst suggested, tugging on Fiddleford’s jacket sleeve before doing the same to Ford’s lab coat. “And we can call science man Stan!”

“You most certainly cannot!” Ford snapped, his tone surprisingly harsh as he pulled his coat away from the purple Gem. The other Gems and even Fiddleford all looked to him in apt surprise, all of them clearly wondering where such sudden severity had come from, though before the author was pressed to explain it, he was quick to change the subject altogether. “Anyway… Rose, I’m glad you’re here. Fiddleford has brought an important matter concerning our newest pet project to our attention, a matter I’m… more than fairly confident you’ll be able to help out with.”

“Oh really?” Rose asked, naturally curious as she looked to the inventor. “And what’s that?”

“Well, to even get this machine ya’ll wanna build started, you’re gonna need to get yourselves a Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive,” Fiddleford explained with a frown. “But I don’t know where in the world we’re ever gonna-”

“A Temporal Displacement Drive?” Pearl spoke up, crossing her arms with a scoff. “Please, give us an actual challenge here. Why, Stanford, I’m surprised you don’t already have one seeing as how they’re incredibly archaic by today’s standards.”

“Well, perhaps on your mysterious ‘Homeworld’ they are,” Ford retorted with just as teasing of a grin as the one the white Gem was sending him. “But here on Earth, technology like that is a bit… harder to come by.”

“Wha—Homeworld?” Fiddleford grabbed the author by the arm, lowering his voice somewhat. “Stanford, what in the name of Sweet Sally Sue are you on about right now?”

“Oh, did I not tell you?” Ford looked back to his bewildered partner before nodding back to the eager group of Gems before him. “Despite their near human-like appearances, the Crystal Gems aren’t from Earth. In fact, you might even say they’re-”

“ALIENS?!” Fiddleford gasped, shocked by this revelation as he stared at each of the Gems with huge eyes.

“There’s that word again,” Garnet remarked, crossing her arms.

“I wonder what it means…” Rose mused, fascinated.

“Yes,” the author said, still sending the inventor a satisfied, almost goading grin over the fact that he had managed to befriend such a special extraterrestrial group all on his own. “Aliens. But completely friendly aliens, I can assure you.”

“Boy howdy, are they ever!” Fiddleford exclaimed, slapping his knee in newfound excitement as he rushed up to each of the Gems to readily shake their hands. “Ya know, from the time I was a youngin’ I’ve always wondered about you space folks, ever since my cousin Thistlebelt said his Grammy Louise was quote-on-quote ‘taken by them saucer people’. Everyone else in the family said it was a bunch of hogwash, but I never stopped believin’ that life in other worlds outside our own existed, and you ladies are livin’, breathin’ proof of that!”

“Oh, uh, well, thank you,” Rose laughed, amused. “But…”

“We don’t breathe,” Garnet said, stoically and succinctly.

“It’s true,” Ford added, noting Fiddleford’s continued dumbfounded expression. “They don’t. Or at least they don’t need to. Same goes with sleeping and eating. Why, if I was anywhere near as infallible as the Gems here are, then I’d have enough energy to solve every unexplained phenomenon in the universe and then some!”

“And then you’d complain about bein’ bored the second that you did,” Fiddleford remarked with a wry grin. “Just like ya did when you breezed through all of the coursework in your second semester of Applied Quantum Phase Theory in less than a week after the class started.”

“Clearly, a waste of a semester,” Ford scoffed. “Especially when taking Fifth Dimensional Calculus and Hyper-Advanced Engineering would have aided our cause with this portal much more…”

“Speaking of which,” Pearl interjected. “If we really do need that Hyperdrive, then, w-well…” She hesitated, as if anxious to continue. Anxiety that Rose and Garnet at least seemed to both share on some level as they all averted eye contact with one another. “Stanford, you know where to find it by now.”

“Well, yes, I do,” the author nodded. “But seeing as how this is going to be Fiddleford’s first expedition to Crash Site Omega, I figured why not commemorate it by all of us going out there together? As a team?”

“Crash Site Omega?” Fiddleford inquired, curious. Ford provided him a brief whispered answer, one that only served to floor the inventor even more than he already was when he realized exactly what it was.

“No…”

“Yes,” the author grinned, amused.

“S-so it’s really…?”

“Mm hm.”

“A-and they came in…?”

“They did.”

“…Well, I gotta admit to ya, Stanford,” Fiddleford said after a beat of amazed silence. “I didn’t come here this morning thinkin’ that my entire perception on reality would be blown wide open like its just been. S-so thank you for that, I suppose.”

“You’re very welcome!” the author chimed before turning back to the Gems. “So the way I see it, it’ll take us two days to hike both out to the crash site and to get back since the its central warp hub is still down, so we should probably head out now to catch good daylight and-”

“Um… actually, Ford…” Rose spoke up apprehensively. “I’m not so sure if we should keep going out there like we have been. It really is pretty dangerous, especially for humans, and if we keep bothering it, it’ll probably only get worse. So… I think we should just…” The pink Gem trailed off upon catching sight of the disappointed, rather pleading glances both Ford and Fiddleford were sending her way, both of them clearly eager to see this intriguing crash site and claim the powerful Hyperdrive contained within. Glances that, against all odds, were able to make Rose change her tune much more easily than expected. “Ohhhh… ok…” she huffed relentingly. “You two win. We’ll go get that Hyperdrive.”

“Excellent!” Ford proclaimed as Fiddleford let out a large sigh of relief. “Then let’s not waste another minute! Our expedition begins… now!”

“Woo! Expedition! Expedition!” Amethyst cheered as her and Garnet followed the author and the inventor out the door. “Hey, Garnet, what’s a expedition?”

“Rose, are you sure this is such a good idea…?” Pearl asked, stopping the pink Gem briefly before they could head out as well. “After all, the crash site is… w-well… you know…”

“I do…” Rose frowned, placing a gentle hand on the white Gem’s shoulder before breaking out into a small smile. “But what can I say? You know I can never say no to humans, Pearl, they’re so adorable!”

“That’s what you keep saying…” Pearl muttered with an exasperated sigh as she trailed after her liege, their ‘expedition’ to the mystery that was Crash Site Omega at last underway.

***

The fresh Oregon morning air was more than enough to completely invigorate the small motley crew of scientists and Gems as they set out on their quest. Since neither Ford or Fiddleford had a vehicle of their own, their trek would largely be on foot, something that only the inventor seemed to mind as they began their hike along the granite pass. While Ford was able to keep up with the tireless Gems just fine thanks to his rigorous daily physical regiment, Fiddleford was much less active in most things save for his mind and his mechanical work. As easily worn and winded as he was, the inventor wasn’t afraid to let his exhaustion show, especially as he purposed the idea of building robotic legs to let them do the work of walking for him.

Fortunately for Fiddleford, however, their trek only lasted a few hours before they found themselves on the other side of town at Lake Gravity Falls. Seeing as the serene shore was as good a place as any to take a break, that’s exactly what the group did (after documenting a bizarre Plaidypus they happened across along the way, as well investigating as the mystery of a possible beast laying in wait under the lake’s sole island). Even so, the inventor greatly appreciated the much-needed breather as he took the time to enjoy the lunch he had packed, at least until Amethyst snuck over and began rifling through it, an attempt that Pearl tried her best to thwart as Garnet watched on, amused as ever by her teammate’s antics.

With Fiddleford and the Gems as distracted as they were, Ford took the opportunity to slip away to jot down a few offhand notes and observations in his latest journal. He was just finishing off their speculator findings on the possibly quite dangerous island head beast lurking just below the unsuspecting waters when he began casually sketching out the peaceful shoreline itself, writing down a short description to go with it.

“Despite this bone-chilling creature, I couldn’t help but enjoy the scenery. There is no other place in Gravity Falls I would rather be than the lake. It reminds me of my childhood and Glass Shard Beach…”

Of Glass Shard Beach and sticky, sandy days spent there. Of briny seas and smoggy, sunny skies. Of just the two of them, exploring the tiny world they’d always known but planning for so much more beyond it. Of working on the ambitious pet project together that would someday finally get them there: the Stan O’ War.

Ford sighed almost wistfully, glancing over across the lake again before he began sketching out a simple sailboat on the bottom half of the page. Absently, he annotated it with an amusing youthful anecdote, one that he made sure to inscribe in code, just in case. He had just about finished it too, when a sudden shadow cast over him, catching the other quite off guard out of his deep thoughts.

“What are you working on over here?” Rose asked with a warm smile as she stood over the author, curiously glancing down at the journal in his hand. While Ford normally would have been eager to share his research with the pink Gem, instead he hastily scribbled over the boat he had drawn, closing the book and with it, his reminiscing thoughts.

“O-oh, nothing,” the author hastily said. “Just… foolishly losing myself in the past, I suppose.”

“Hm…” Rose mused as she took a seat on the coarse sand alongside him. “I wouldn’t call that ‘foolish’. After all, I sometimes do that too.”

“Hopefully not too often,” Ford joked with a brief hint of levity. “If what you told me is true, then you have quite a lengthy past to get lost in.”

The pair shared a short laugh at this, though as it faded as the author’s tone turned thoughtful. “…You know, I’ve never asked you… what is it like, to have lived for so long? Existing for hundreds of thousands of years like you and the other Gems have is far beyond any sort of known human comprehension so, I can’t help but be a little curious about it.”

Rose was silent for a moment, keeping her sights set on the sparkling lake ahead of them before replying flippantly. “To be honest? Its… boring. When a Gem is made, they’re supposed to be only one thig, have only one purpose for their entire existence. Thousands of years spending day in and day out in the exact same way without anything ever even changing. But you? Humans? You get to have an entirely different experience every single day! Your life isn’t set in stone like a Gem’s is, its constantly in motion! Its so much more exciting! And… ever since I first came here to Earth, that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do to: to have a unique, special kind of experience each and every day. And so far, I’d say I’ve been doing a pretty good job of it thanks to people like you, Ford.”

“Hmph,” the author glanced away, aptly bashful. “I’d pin your success less on me and more on Gravity Falls. As surrounded by such fantastic anomalies as we are, there’s no way you could have a dull, uninteresting day here, even if you tried.”

“Exactly,” Rose chuckled. “Why else do you think we’ve stayed here so long?”

“Speaking of which…” Ford began a bit leadingly as he looked back down at the journal in his lap. “Where exactly were you and the other Gems… before you came to Gravity Falls?”

“Oh, I thought I already told you,” the pink Gem said. “We mostly wandered around all over the Earth, exploring different, beautiful places, meeting all sorts of amazing people-”

“Yes, yes, you did tell me about all that before,” Ford interupted, unable to push his curiosity aside. “I’m talking about before that. Before you came to Earth.”

“O-oh…” Rose faltered, her pink locks casting shadows over her eyes as her voice grew soft and almost unsteady. “W-well… before that… I was—we lived on Homeworld…”

“Ah yes, Homeworld,” Ford nodded, eager to know more about this distant planet the other Gems spoke so very little about. “And what was it like there? Quite different from the Earth, I imagine, I mean it is an entirely different planet.”

“Yes, i-it’s… very different, to say the least…” Rose muttered, almost whispered. For several long, lingering moments, she said nothing else on the matter, and for a good while it seemed like she had no intentions of doing so at all. Ford was just about ready to prompt her with more questions on the mysterious planet, but right before they could, a certain purple Gem suddenly jumped right into the space between the two of them.

“Hey, look at me! I’m Fiddle Man!” Amethyst exclaimed, showing off the inventor’s glasses that she had perched on the elongated nose she had shapeshifted to mimic his. “Howdy, howdy, howdy!”

“Hey!” The purple Gem took off the moment she noticed Fiddleford blindly chasing after her. “Give ‘em back, ya little-”

The inventor didn’t have a chance to finish his threat before he inevitably followed Amethyst into the lake, tripping and falling face-first into the shallows as the purple Gem surfaced alongside him, laughing madly all the while. “Amethyst! Give that human his vision aids back immediately!” Pearl scolded with a frustrated huff as she stormed over.

“They’re called glasses, Pearl,” Garnet remarked, coolly adjusting her own.

“Well, it looks like everyone’s starting to get restless,” Rose laughed, more than glad to change the subject. “We should probably get going. We still have a lot of ground to cover, after all.”

Ford frowned, even as Rose stood and offered a hand to help him up. Even so, despite the lack of any substantial answers to his insatiable curiosity, he complied, accepting her help as he offered his aid in gathered the others so they could continue on their way once more. And yet, the author couldn’t help but glance out at the lake one last time before they left it behind, hoping that he’d still get those answers, answers he knew the pink Gem was still hiding from him, sooner or later.

***

The rest of the afternoon took the group out of the midsummer heat and into a much cooler setting instead: a set of hidden tunnels secreted away behind the town’s famous waterfall. The ancient caves were a find that the Gems had first introduced Ford to a few years back, the drawings etched on the walls dating their formation back to early human history (which the Gems themselves were present for). Along the way, they happened across a rather large group of minute corrupted Gem monsters, which the author had decided to dub ‘geodites’; the tiny creatures were more than numerous and luminous enough to light their way through the rest of the tunnels. And by the time they finally emerged at the top of the falls, the sun was just starting to set, giving way to a crisp, warm, lovely evening. Which was why, with the vast view of Gravity Falls stretching out below them, the easy decision was made to set up camp for the night right then and there.

While the Gems didn’t really need to rest like Ford and Fiddleford did, they were still more than happy to help them set up their clifftop campsite. With a roaring fire built, the group gathered around it to relax and chat, all while gazing up at the countless arrays of stars and the constellations hidden therein dotting the dark, lovely night sky above them.

“Golly, what a night…” Fiddleford remarked between spoonfuls of beans out of the can he had just heated up over the fire. “We don’t get stars like these in Palo Alto, that’s for sure.”

“Palo Alto?” Rose asked, curious. “Where’s that?”

“A few states down south in California,” Fiddleford informed. “They’ve just started callin’ that part of it the ‘Silicon Valley’, as a matter o’ fact.”

“Why?” Pearl asked. “Is there a higher than usual concentration of silicon there?”

“Well, no, it’s on account of-”

“Its because it has a higher than usual concentration of ‘upstart inventors’,” Ford interupted with a knowing smirk. “Much like Fiddleford himself here.”

“Oh, ha ha, very funny, Stanford,” Fiddleford retorted dryly. “But Palo Alto also has a lot more to it than a bunch of borin’ ol’ eggheads. It’s also where my darlin’ wife and my lil’ Tater Tot are.”

“Ooo, tater tots!” Amethyst quipped obliviously. “I just learned what those things are the other day when I snuck into the diner. They’re so good and cold and crunchy!”

“You’re supposed to eat them hot, Amethyst, not frozen,” Ford pointed out with a concerned frown.

“Whaaaat?! Oh man, that sounds even better! I’ve gotta try that! I’m totally gonna break into that diner again when we get back.”

“I’m not talkin’ about tater tots Tater Tots,” Fiddleford shook his head with a small chuckle. “I’m talkin’ about my son, Tate.” Upon noticing the somewhat blank looks all of the Gems were sending him, the inventor elaborated. “Ya know, my family? Any of you ladies got any family yourselves?”

“No,” Rose answered almost immediately, her tone surprisingly sharp.

“Gems don’t really do ‘family’,” Garnet added quite stoically.

“O-oh…” Fiddleford glanced away rather awkwardly. “Well, all the same, I can’t wait to get back to mine! Why, once we’re done with this here project of ours, I have plans to skedaddle back home to ‘em and finally start patenting all of the robotics projects I have in the works.”

“Robotics?” Ford asked incredulously. “What practical use could that have in a common market?”

“Outside of militaristic weapons grade training?” Pearl added, though she was met with several bewildered glances at this. “What?”

“Aw, I got plenty of ideas in mind!” Fiddleford exclaimed zealously. “Ideas that are bound to make people’s lives better all ‘round the globe! Plus… it’ll be a decent bonus to finally be makin’ enough to afford a nice place with a screen door that ain’t broken like the one we had at the ol’ McGucket family homestead back in Tennessee.”

“Your ideas sound lovely, Fiddleford,” Rose smiled, enthused by such altruistic plans. “Ford, what are you going to do once our machine is done?”

“I think you mean once my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness is proven indisputably,” Ford corrected with a knowing grin. “After its all said and done, I’m considering returning back home to the east to publish my findings about Gravity Falls and the source of its strangeness to the world.”

“Wait… you’re… going to leave?” the pink Gem asked, her smile fading altogether at this.

“F-for a time, yes,” the author glanced away, suddenly flustered. “But I’m sure I’ll be back around these parts sooner or later. Especially since I’ll have presidents and prizewinners alike practically begging me to explain all of the oddities we’ve uncovered to them. Just think of it! Me, rubbing elbows with the most elite of the elite! Debating politics with Reagan, discussing turtleneck fashion with Carl Sagan! And better yet, seeing the looks on the faces of everyone who ever doubted me!”

“Gosh, Stanford, those sure are some big dreams,” Fiddleford remarked with a smirk. “I’d expect nothin’ less from you, but… there’s still one thing I don’t understand.”

“And what’s that?”

“Well, from what I’ve seen of them journals of yours, it already looks like you’ve discovered more than enough amazin’ things to make you famous and then some,” the inventor explained, briefly nodding over at the Gems. “These ladies right here are a testament to that if nothin’ else, I mean, shucks, they’re literal space aliens.”

“Would you both stop calling us that?” Pearl huffed, annoyed.

“I guess what I’m tryin’ to figure out is… is this ‘grand theory’ of yours even really necessary?” Fiddleford continued, frowning. “Why not just publish your findings now, profit off that, settle down right here in Gravity Falls, and start a family of your own…?” At this, the inventor inclined his head rather leadingly at Rose, something that the pink Gem didn’t really notice, though the author understood the implication loud and clear.

Which was why he was completely powerless to let out a loud, blunt laugh at the very thought. “Oh, Fiddleford, don’t be silly!” Ford chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll be the first to admit that romance is far more baffling to me than the greatest mysteries of the universe!” The author waited a beat until Rose was distracted by a small, side conversation with the other Gems to lower his voice to a whisper to the inventor. “Besides, you heard it yourself; Gems don’t ‘do’ family.”

“Hmph, and apparently, neither do you,” Fiddleford remarked, dissatisfied as he crossed his arms.

“So, Ford,” Rose interjected with a small, amused laugh. “Garnet wants to know… how exactly is romance ‘baffling’?”

“Because it sure isn’t to me,” Garnet said, adjusting her shades mysteriously.

“W-well, it just always seemed so… frivolous to me,” Ford shrugged, clearly embarrassed over having to explain himself on such a personal matter. “I mean, who even has time for such flights of fancy in the first place when there’s far more important matters to attend to?”

“Oh? Like what?” Pearl asked with a bit of a teasing grin. “Playing that probability-heavy dungeons game you showed me the other day?”

“N-no!” Ford exclaimed defensively. “W-well, at least not entirely. What I’m talking about is perusing something much grander than any mere momentary love affair: the answers to the most baffling mysteries human history has ever known! And I’m going to be the one to find those answers once and for all. Why should I settle for simplicity when I can just as easily sail to the stars!?”

“There’s nothing wrong with simplicity, Ford,” Rose grinned gently. “In fact, its one of the things I love most about the Earth. Everything here works so well with everything else. It all just… fits together to create a planet that just feels… so complete and so perfect in so many different ways, I can’t even begin to list them all!”

“But it can hardly compare to all of the other incredible sights you’ve must have seen among the endless cosmos, right?” Ford pressed, curious as ever. “After all, the Earth, perhaps barring Gravity Falls as the sole exception, is so… mundane when pitted against the vast depths of space, places humans have never even dreamed of seeing before, including your very own Homeworld! You’ve been here on Earth for thousands of years now… don’t you ever miss what lies beyond it?”

Rose paused for a moment, seeming to mull over this as she gazed up at the distant, twinkling stars far above them. But when she finally did give her answer, it was with a solid, confident smile as she returned her gaze back down to the sprawling view of the town far below them. “Why would I ever miss Homeworld when I’m already home?”

Despite his best efforts, this was a question Ford couldn’t find an answer to. It was at that moment that the author began to realize, perhaps for the very first time, just how different the pink Gem’s worldview was from his own. It was undeniable that Rose was quite content with her peaceful lot on planet Earth, far removed from the mysterious, exciting grandeur of the cosmos and her former interstellar home. It was a sentiment the other Crystal Gems seemed to carry, but it was one that Ford couldn’t quite understand. For much of his life, the author had felt limited in some way; limited by the scope of his small hometown, limited by the low standards of his family around him, limited even by his own scientific knowledge (at least until his muse fortunately came around to help in that regard). In fact, he had grown so used to being limited that it was no wonder that breaking those limits wide open had long since been a high-ranking goal of his. He didn’t want to just be content to be, he wanted so much more than that. He wanted success, he wanted recognition, he wanted greatness. He would settle for nothing less.

And while Ford knew the road to reaching such lofty ambitions wouldn’t be an easy one, he still preferred the road less traveled anyway, he always had. And, as he sat around the campfire, laughing and conversing with some of the people (or more accurately Gems) he trusted most, he couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful that he wouldn’t have to travel that road alone.

***

The next morning saw the group meeting with a mystery right off the bat. While getting in an early morning shave, Fiddleford had spotted the briefest flash of something in the woods behind him in his tiny mirror. Superstitious and skittish as he was, the inventor didn’t hesitate to alert Ford and the Gems about the possible intruder, which had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. A careful search of the entire area turned up empty, but no one could deny they all felt the presence of some unknown creature or being lurking about, its mysterious nature matching closely to a longstanding local lumberjack legend known as the Hide-Behind. The creature had been a point of curiosity for both Ford and the Gems for quite some time, largely since it had reportedly never been clearly seen by anyone before. The most anyone was able to find of it was they quickly packed up their camp were its strange footprints in the dirt, accompanied by its bizarre howl echoing through the trees as the trees. Needless to say it was enough to set the entire group on edge, even the usually intrepid Gems, who were all on the verge of summoning their weapons for self-defense, just in case the Hide-Behind suddenly decided to come out of hiding after all…

Fortunately though, they weren’t beset by any such danger as they finally made their way out of the woods and into more open expanses. Rose took point of the group from here, her manner oddly tense as she began leading the last leg of the journey to the crash site. Contrasting to the pink Gem, however, Ford and Fiddleford were both growing gradually more excited the closer they got to their destination. The pair engaged in enthused speculation about the vessel they were heading to all the way there, a conversation that the Gems largely refused to join in, even despite the many questions posed their way. In fact, they only seemed to grow even more dodgy as they finally reached the deep, oddly-shaped valley where their prize awaited: Crash Site Omega itself.

“We’re here,” Rose reported quietly, coming to a stop at the center of the wide grassy area.

“Wait… this is it?” Fiddleford asked, confused.

“Indeed it is,” Ford chimed in with a daring grin as he approached the field’s only notable feature, a large, inconspicuous rock. “It looks like it hasn’t been touched since the last time we were here two years ago! How lucky!”

“Very lucky,” Garnet remarked stiffly, adjusting her shades.

“Now, let’s just move this aside, and…” the author trailed off as he pushed the rock, revealing a metallic panel beneath it. Removing it was just as easy, uncovering a square opening in the ground with a long ladder leading down into the darkness far below. “There we go. This should lead us down right through… what was it again?”

“The indefinite exhaust port,” Pearl remarked, crossing her arms and scowling.

“U-unbelievable…” Fiddleford said, his eyes wide as he stared down into the mysterious tunnel. “And here I thought ya’ll were yankin’ my chain with this crash site nonsense, but… b-but here it is! Plain as day!”

“Ugh, do we really gotta go down there again?” Amethyst asked with a huff. “Its so dark and smelly and boring…”

“Don’t worry, Amethyst, we won’t be down there very long,” Rose assured the youngest Gem with a small smile. “Will we?” she asked Ford in particular.

“We’re only here for the hyperdrive this time, so I would say this shouldn’t take too terribly long,” Ford mused.

“Good,” Pearl said somewhat sharply. “The sooner we leave this place behind, the better.”

With their shared intention to get in and get out as quickly as possible, the Gems entered the passageway first. Ford and Fiddleford followed after, both of them somewhat baffled as to why their companions seemed so wary of the crash site as a whole. Even so, they eagerly followed down into the depths, scaling down into the wreckage left behind from a vessel forgotten by time.

The structure’s practically ancient chrome interior, as untouched by the elements as it was, was largely pristine, if not heavily dusted and cobwebbed. The buried vessel was essentially a maze of various vast, twisting corridors, revealing nothing to what its exterior might have once looked like. Most of its electronic components were long-since defunct and its echoing halls were just as abandoned and dark, illuminated only by the glow from Pearl and Rose’s respective gemstones lighting the way. Ford and Fiddleford also had flashlights on hand, however, to further aid them in getting a better glimpse at their amazing surroundings; surroundings that, as far as they knew, next to no other humans had ever seen before.

“Golly, just look at this place!” Fiddleford exclaimed, his voice echoing off of the hallowed-out halls. “It’s like somethin’ straight outta Cosmic Conflicts! Just imagine what it must’ve looked like back in its hayday!”

“We don’t need to imagine,” Ford said, confident as he glanced over at the Gems. “Fortunately in this instance, we can get knowledge on the subject straight from the source.”

“O-oh, well, its not like any of us got here on something exactly like this…” Rose remarked with something of an uncomfortable laugh. “After all, Amethyst was made here on Earth, and-”

“Well, still, certainly it must be close to what a few of you might be familiar with,” the author implored. “It did come from Homeworld, after all, much like yourself, right, Rose?”

“Ah, um, w-well, yes, I suppose, but-”

“So how long does it typically take for a vessel like this to be built there?” Ford inquired, innocently curious. What the author failed to see were the other Gems almost rushing on ahead, only Rose hanging behind and growing more and more anxious with each question he posed to her. “How many lightyears do you estimate it could travel in a day?”

“F-Ford…” the pink Gem attempted to interject, but nothing could really stop the author’s eager inquiries at this point.

“Does it have any sort of external weapons systems? Maybe a layered holographic force-field?”

“Ford-” Rose tried again and by now even Fiddleford was sending his partner a worried warning glance. But even still Ford continued.

“What would it take to bring a rig like this down in the first place? What was its original function meant to be?”

“Stanford, please-”

A warship? Scouting vessel? Why did it even come here to Earth in the first pla-”

“Stanford! That’s enough!”

Rose’s harsh shout seemed to echo through the entire vessel, stopping the entire group dead in their tracks. Ford turned to the pink Gem, aptly started by her heavy command only to find her usually gentle expression set in a sharp, severe glare. A glare that was aimed directly at him.

“R-Rose?” he asked quite hesitantly, unsure of how to react.

“I said that’s enough,” Rose repeated just as sternly. “No more questions, let’s just get what we came here for, and go.”

And with that, the pink Gem pressed on ahead, the other Gems and even Fiddleford meekly following behind her. For all of the kindness Rose was known to show, her rare moments of rigidness were more than enough to intimidate just about anyone. Anyone save for Ford, that is.

“Why are you always like this?” Ford asked, a hint of fledgling frustration in his tone. “Every time I so much as bring up the topic of Homeworld to you, you never want to discuss it? Why? You’re always more than happy to share everything you know about every other Gem-related matter, so why not something as fundamentally simple as your own home?!”

“Because!” Rose snapped fiercely, far more angrier than the author had ever seen her before. “That’s NOT our home! Not anymore…” She sighed, her fury turning to what almost seemed like remorseful resignation as she turned away once more. “And it never will be again…”

“But why not?” Ford pressed, refusing to simply let the matter go. “Why won’t you just tell me something about it?!”

“…Fine,” Rose said, her back still turned and her tone still tense. “I’ll tell you the only thing you need to know about it: we left it behind, in every way. And we want to keep it that way, which is why you should do the same, Stanford.”

This time, the pink Gem was intent on making it quite clear that she wouldn’t discuss the matter any further as she simply walked away. Once again, Ford was prepared to keep the argument going, though what ultimately ended up stopping him turned out to be none other than Fiddleford. The inventor silently barred him with an outstretched arm, shaking his head in disapproval over just how far the author had been willing to push his curiosity. Far enough to the point that it had, in turn, pushed the pink Gem away.

Even so, that wasn’t something Ford was all too willing to admit. After all, the most he saw himself as guilty of was perhaps asking one too many sensitive questions. But as far as he was concerned, it was Rose’s fault for deeming those questions as too sensitive to answer in the first place. Certainly, the author rationalized, the pink Gem was being unfairly secretive when it came to the truth behind her former home. She had already shared so much about her kind with him in the past; so what could possibly be the reason behind her keeping this information to herself? It was a question Ford knew he needed the answer to, but it was an answer he wasn’t sure he was going to get, especially not now. Especially with Rose choosing to maintain her stubborn silence on all things Homeworld-related, the other Gems intent on doing the very same.

“Here it is…” Pearl announced diffidently as they all stepped into a large, heavily-wired chamber. “One Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive, as promised.”

“Hm…” Fiddleford stepped forward, carefully inspecting the surprisingly small device. The hyperdrive was hooked up to the ship’s now-defunct engine by a series of sturdy chords, the screen on its side still somehow functional based on the illuminated visage of four multi-colored diamonds. Silence still permeated the rest of the rest of the group as the inventor looked over it before finally breaking into a small, satisfied smile. “Yep, I’d reckon this oughta do the trick. All I gotta do is tweak around with a few of these here wires and…” He trailed off, carefully snipping through the chords with the clippers he had wisely brought along. Then, after loosening just a few bolts and screws, the inventor was able to not just release the drive, but also extract it, snuggly slipping it away into his backpack for safekeeping on the way back.

“We got what we came here for,” Rose concluded, her tone and matter both starkly hallow. “Let’s go home.”

None of the others, surprisingly not even Ford, argued with the pink Gem on this. Still, Fiddleford at the very least could tell that the author wanted to, his insistence to know what Rose refused to tell him was plain enough to see in his plaintiff expression alone. And yet, for whatever reason, Ford held his peace on the matter, instead silently following behind the Gems with his head down and his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. Fiddleford always had a knack for spotting a pot that was about to boil over, and if there was any way to describe the tension currently standing between the author and the pink Gem in particular, it was that. Which meant that he could only hope that when it inevitably did, none of them would end up getting burned in its wake.

***

While both Fiddleford and the other Gems all shared the unspoken hope that the mood would finally lighten when they emerged from the crash site, much to their dismay it did anything but. In fact, if anything, Rose and Ford seemed to distance themselves even further, refusing to so much as even spare a glance at each other, lest their disagreement spike up once more. While the author’s manner was hard and bitter, the pink Gem’s expression seemed sad and pensive, though as different as their emotions were, they were equally matched in terms of disappointment.

This anxious stalemate seemed as though it was going to continue for the entire journey back from the crash site, a thought that was all but unbearable to the others. While this quest had started out on such a high, bright note, it seemed so unfortunate that, even despite their relative success in getting the hyperdrive, it was going to end on such a low, dour one. Which was why, even if the Gems didn’t share his own intention, Fiddleford decided to venture an attempt to at least get the author and the pink Gem on speaking terms again. A plan that he would have very well carried out had Ford not happened upon a discovery that would change the course of their entire trip altogether.

“Everyone, stay right where you are,” the author suddenly warned, stopping dead in his tracks. Curious, the others complied, turning towards him to see what the matter might have been. “No one make a single sound…” he whispered, his posture suddenly tense and his eyes wide as he stared through the thicket of trees straight ahead of them. While Garnet and Pearl exchanged a confused, yet quite glance at this, Amethyst, however, was easily the first to disregard that command entirely.

“What? What is it?” she asked bluntly, loudly. “Are we playin’ some kinda quiet game? Cause I thought we already have been doing that for hours now and-”

“Shhh!” Ford quickly reprimanded her, suddenly frantic. “I said quiet! The last thing we want to do is wake it up!”

“Wake what up, Stanford?” Fiddleford asked, his voice soft, yet aptly baffled.

By now, Rose had happened to catch a glimpse of what Ford had already seen, a small gasp escaping her as she pointed to the clearing straight ahead. “That.”

Fast asleep in the light of the sun pouring down upon it through the canopy of trees above was a creature, a monster that was nearly beyond all description. The beast was massive to say the least, easily larger than any of the Gems, even Rose herself. It was a burly, muscular, grotesque behemoth, its constant snores more akin to hulking growls as it rested tentatively, though it was clear that it could be ready to attack with its piercing claws and protruding fangs at a moment’s notice. An outcome that none of them wanted to see, especially considering exactly what this creature really was.

“A Gremloblin…” Ford was unable to keep himself from breaking into a bewildered grin at the sight of such an exciting discovery. “One of the rarest creatures in all of Gravity Falls! I’ve only ever read about them in old local lumberjack legends, I never thought I’d actually get to see one myself!”

“W-well, ya saw it, so we should probably get a goin’ before that thing stirs,” Fiddleford urged anxiously, refusing to take his eyes off the snoozing monster, lest it pounce when he wasn’t looking.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Ford agreed as he pulled his journal out of his coat. “After I jot down just a few cursory notes on it, maybe get a quick sketch…”

“Ford, I don’t think that’s a very good idea…” Rose noted with a concerned frown.

“Yes, those creatures are notoriously dangerous,” Pearl agreed. “We’ve fortunately never had to fight one before and we certainly wouldn’t want to have a reason to now.”

“And you won’t,” Ford assured, still creeping on ahead, pen already in hand. “I’ve heard Gremloblins are incredibly heavy sleepers, especially during their hibernation season, which just so happens to be during the summer months.”

“But Stanford-” Fiddleford pleaded tightly, nervously.

“Besides, I simply can’t pass up the opportunity to document such a unique find,” Ford continued, hardly listening to the others’ warnings. “I’ll make this quick, I promise.”

“Ford…” Rose admonished once more, though the author hardly listened as he continued inching forward. He had all but lost himself to sketching the monstrous Gremloblin out, engrossed in his research far more than his own safety, or the safety of his companions.

“M-Miss Quartz, can’t ya get him to give it a rest?” Fiddleford asked Rose as he cowered up against a nearby tree for cover. “If he wakes that critter up, he’ll get us all killed, for sure!”

“I don’t know about all that, but I do agree that this is far too dangerous,” the pink Gem stepped forward, ready to call upon her sword and shield, just in case, as she made another appeal to the author. “Ford, we should just leave that creature alone and move on before something bad happens.”

“Which will happen,” Garnet predicted firmly. “Trust me.”

“Then we’ll make sure to leave before it does,” Ford only barely glanced back over his shoulder.

“But that’s just it, you don’t know when it will happen!” Rose huffed, annoyed by the author’s insistent stubbornness. “We shouldn’t risk it, we need to leave, now.”

“Well you’re more than free to go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you when I’m done.”

While the pink Gem’s patience was usually seemingly boundless, it was more than clearly being tested here and now. “Stanford, why won’t you just listen to me?” she asked incredulously. “I’m trying to help you; I just want to keep you safe!”

“Oh how?” Ford asked just as bitingly as he turned to face her. “By denying me access to simple knowledge that would be invaluable to my research? Knowledge that I have a right to know, that I deserve to know!? Is that your idea of trying to ‘keep me safe’? Because if it is, then you should know that I never asked you to. In fact, I think you’ll find that I can handle much more than you give me credit for.”

“Ford…” Rose sighed, disgruntled and despondent. “You still don’t understand! And that’s exactly why you need to stop. A-and why… why I can’t tell you about…”

“About Homeworld?”

Rose flinched at this, unsure of what to even say. All the same, the author stared her down, silently demanding the truth this time, and refusing to settle for anything less. “S-Stanford… I-”

Before the pink Gem could even get another word out, the unthinkable happened. A sudden, ear-piercing alarm blared through the air, readily echoing throughout the trees with a seemingly unending shriek.

“Augh! What is that?!” Amethyst yelled over the deafening din.

“I think it’s the hyperdrive!” Pearl called, nodding over to Fiddleford’s backpack, where the device was still stowed. “The change in altitude while going down the mountain must have activated it!”

“H-how do we get it to stop?!” Fiddleford cried, ripping the bag off his back to peer in at the blaring, flashing device.

“We need to-” Garnet cut herself off with a gasp, her future vision catching an extremely important warning just in time. “Look out!” she shouted to Ford in particular. The author instantly spun around, clutching the journal close to his chest to see a massive clawed hand rushing right for him. The most Ford could really do was brace himself for a painful impact, though fortunately it never came as a certain pink Gem and her sturdy shimmering shield intercepted the devastating blow instead.

“T-the Gremloblin!” Ford exclaimed, stunned as he glanced past Rose, who still stood defensively between him and the now-rampaging creature. “It’s awake!”

“We need to get out of here!” the pink Gem urged, pressing hard against her shield try and ward the incredibly strong monster off.

“Can we turn that stupid wiperdrive off first?!” Amethyst asked with an irritated groan.

“We’re tryin to!” Fiddleford exclaimed as both him and Pearl desperately tampered with the screeching device to quiet it down. “D-darn thing won’t-”

Suddenly, the Gremloblin’s attention shifted away from Ford and Rose and to an entirely different direction instead: towards the inventor, or rather, the loudly whining device in his hands. Before any of the others could even react, the monster lashed out, swerving around the pair in front of it and reaching out to grab Fiddleford in its enormous, deadly claws in one single swipe. The hyperdrive fell out of his grasp and into Pearl’s, though the white Gem was quick to leap back, summoning her weapon alongside her teammates to face this fell beast.

“Fiddleford!” Ford exclaimed in apt alarm over the peril his friend was in. Peril that only seemed to grow as the Gremloblin’s grip on the terrified inventor tightened, its large golden eyes baring straight into his. Despite his initial thrashing and struggling, Fiddleford more or less went completely limp as his eyes took on the same blank pallor as the monster’s, a sign that he was helplessly lost to whatever sort of trance it had somehow put him under.

“Ford, hurry and take cover somewhere!” Rose ordered, brandishing her blade in preparation for the inevitable fight ahead. “We’ll take care of-”

The pink Gem cut herself off with a startled gasp as Ford suddenly rushed past her, armed only with his full canteen of water and the intent to do whatever he could to rescue Fiddleford from the Gremloblin’s clutches. “Wait!” Garnet warned, her future vision already showing the outcome of the author’s brazenness to her. “Don’t throw water at it! It’ll only-”

The fusion’s warning was largely unheard as Ford chucked his canteen forward with as much force as he could possibly muster. It struck the Gremloblin squarely on the head, completely dousing it all over. It was enough to monetarily startle the creature, but that surprise was immediately short-lived as it unleashed a massive, outraged roar of retaliation. As if in response to the water itself, the Gremloblin seemed to double, if not triple in size before their very eyes, growing spikes and tusks and even strong and sturdy wings. The unexpected transformation left the spectating group completely baffled, especially the author as he realized that his hastiness was essentially the direct cause of it.

“It’ll only get much harder to deal with,” Garnet finally finished bluntly.

“Now you tell me…” Ford huffed, disgruntled.

“Gems, let’s go!” Rose commanded swiftly, finally rallying her teammates into action against the monster. The Gremloblin kept its tight grip on Fiddleford as it let out another vicious growl, towering over all of the Gems as they raced for it with their respective weapons drawn. Hasty as always, Amethyst leapt for it first, swinging her whip loose and wildly to latch onto one of the monster’s mighty upper fangs. The purple Gem used her taunt weapon to launch herself upward, raring to land squarely on the creature’s face to inflict a heavy kick, but before she could, the Gremloblin turned her plan against her. Instead, it swung its head upwards hard, sending both Amethyst and her whip flying fast and far off into the forest, away from the fight altogether.

In light of the purple Gem’s easy defeat, Garnet and Pearl teamed up in their successive attack. The white Gem went high, gracefully jumping up towards the treetops to land on a sturdy perch above the creature while the fusion distracted it on the ground below. The Gremloblin showed no intentions of losing its prey, despite Garnet’s best attempts at reaching the inventor while dodging the monster’s violent swings all the while. The fusion’s strength was formidable, to be sure, but when pitted against a monster of such sheer size and ferocity as the Gremloblin, even Garnet herself was no match. All it took was for the creature to suddenly catch the fusion by her gauntlet before it flung her away, sending her plowing through the trees and knocking several over in her wake until she was completely out of sight. A mere moment later, the Gremloblin also caught sight of Pearl launching herself and her spear its way, though it easily managed to stop her as well by simply making eye contact with her alone. The white Gem let out a horrified gasp, her eyes reflecting the Gremloblin’s golden ones as she collapsed flat onto the ground, instantly curling up and wrapping her arms around herself as her breaths came out in short, shallow sobs.

“Pearl!” Rose cried, almost rushing to the white Gem’s side right then and there if not for the Gremloblin attempting to attack her next.

“What’s wrong?! What did it do to her and Fiddleford?” Ford demanded, noticing that the inventor was still completely petrified in the Gremloblin’s grasp.

“I’ve heard of this happening before,” Rose said tensely, her hold on her sword tightening. “Gremloblins can make anyone see their worst nightmares just by looking into their eyes. It’ll wear off eventually, but still, we need to get Fiddleford as far away from it as possible before it can get any worse!”

“Well, then, by all means, let’s-” the author stopped short as the Gremloblin let out yet another booming roar. And then, without any warning, it outstretched its mighty wings, lifting its hulking body off the ground with but a single flap. Rose and Ford only had time to rush forward in a thwarted attempt at rescuing the inventor before the Gremloblin took off in flight, taking Fiddleford right along with it as it began its descent down the nearby mountainside.

“No!” Ford shouted, not hesitating to chase after the beast, desperate to stop it before it could make off with his friend forever. And yet, before he could really begin his panicked pursuit, a steady hand grabbed him by the arm and swiftly pulled him back instead.

“Stay here!” Rose ordered as she summoned a new shield on her arm.

“No, I’m going with you!” the author exclaimed, adamant.

“No, you’re not! Its bad enough that one of you is in danger, I’m not risking you both.”

“You won’t be ‘risking’ anything,” Ford huffed in thorough annoyance. “I can handle something like this, you know I can. So why do you insist on acting like I can’t?!”

“Because you’re only a human!” Rose snapped, and just like that, everything shifted into stark silence.

Ford stilled, his eyes widening as he looked to the pink Gem with apt disbelief. “O-only human?”

“S-Stanford…” Rose immediately began to retract, instantly regretting her words. “I didn’t mean it like that, I-I… I just-”

“Tell me, Rose,” Ford began, his tone hard and filled with resolve as he pressed his way past the pink Gem. “Do you think a supposedly ‘simple’ human would be willing to do something like this?”

Without warning, the author suddenly sprinted off, completely unarmed and ready to take the Gremloblin on unarmed. He didn’t even bother to glance over his shoulder to see if Rose was following him, largely since he didn’t care. Regardless of whether or not she wanted him to, he was going to save Fiddleford. He was going to prove to both her and to himself that even if he was ‘only’ human, he was so much more than that as well.

Fortunately, the Gremloblin hadn’t gotten too far away as it drifted down the craggy mountain’s face. It was a rather sharp descent, but one that Ford was willing to make for Fiddleford’s sake, tearing his coat and scraping himself bloody as he half-tripped, half-ran down it. For a moment, the author dared to hope that he actually had a chance at catching up to the monster, but just before he could reach it, it turned hard, changing its course so that it was flying away from the mountain instead of simply down it. Ford skidded to a sharp stop, though only for a moment, refusing to let this be the end of the chase. Instead, he acted on impulse and adrenaline, backing up briefly before running full stop towards the nearest ledge. The author was nothing if not a man of science, so all the while, he was rushing through a number of calculations in his head, determining just how far he’d have to jump and exactly what his odds of actually making it might be. The results on both accounts were daunting, but even so, they didn’t stop him from taking the leap all the same. With a courageous shout, Ford pushed himself off the mountainside, keeping the Gremloblin and Fiddleford both in his sights all the while as he sailed through the air towards them. For a brief moment, at least.

For soon enough, gravity inevitably enacted itself upon the author, stopping his forward momentum as he all too quickly began plummeting downward. The base of the mountain was hundreds of feet below him, and Ford didn’t even have to think twice to know the impact would be agonizing. But fortunately, it was an impact that never came as he landed softly in a pair of soft, outstretched arms instead.

The moment Rose caught him amidst his freefall, Ford’s heart practically sunk immeasurably. So much for trying to prove himself to her, for in his reckless hastiness, here she had come, once again, to rescue him from peril, just as she so often had to do. However, as she began to float gently back down towards the mountain, her expression was anything but admonishing; instead it was sad, remorseful as she averted the author’s gaze altogether and spoke softly as they touched down. “Only a human like you would be brave enough to risk his life for his friend,” the pink Gem shook her head and laughed as she looked down at him. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until now. Maybe you really can handle it after all…”

“R-Rose?”

“B-but now isn’t really the time for that, is it?” she asked, her tone turning upbeat and determined as she set her sights on the fleeing Gremloblin high above them. “Let’s do this, Stanford, together this time.”

As baffled as he was, the author couldn’t help but return the pink Gem’s smile as he noted her warm sincerity. Which was why he allowed her to take the literal leap high into the air with him in tow, easily gaining enough height and speed to catch up to the soaring Gremloblin. They landed squarely on its back, though the moment the monster sensed their weight, it went into a frenzy. Rose and Ford struggled to keep their footing as the creature tried everything it could to shake them off its back, from twirling to divebombing and everything in between. Even so, they kept their wits about them, Ford in particular as he managed to crawl forward towards the monster’s head. In trying to simply stay on the Gremloblin herself as she was, Rose was quite surprised when she glanced ahead, only to find the author perched on the monster’s back as he, oddly enough, drew his journal out of his lab coat of all things. And, in one swift move, he reeled the book back before slamming it hard into the back of the Gremloblin’s head.

Despite his strong, muscular, monstrous form, the creature recoiled in pain from the surprisingly heavy blow. Miraculously enough, it managed to knock the beast out cold entirely, though as a result, its wings immediately went limp. Ford only briefly let out a gasp of alarm as the monster’s unconscious form began careening madly through the air towards the ground far below, but once again, Rose raced to his rescue just in the nick of time.

Acting quickly, the pink Gem swept the author into her arms before doing the very same with the still quite listless Fiddleford. With both humans safe and secure in her grasp, Rose leapt from the plummeting beast’s back, floating slowly down towards the ground as the Gremloblin fell at a much faster rate. The pink Gem and the author watched with wide eyes as the now-defeated beast crashed into the roof of a barn out in the countryside, one that they landed not too far away from themselves.

“Well…” Ford mused as Rose released both him and Fiddleford, carefully setting the inventor down in the grass so he could recover. “I have to say that was a bit sloppy… but still successful all the same.”

“Sloppy?” Rose asked with an incredulous chuckle. “Ford, that was amazing! Still, I can’t help but feel bad for that poor Gremloblin. After all, it was just trying to rest peacefully…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” the author assured. “After all, I hear those things are… frustratingly hearty.” As if to prove him right, a familiar growl began to sound from inside the barn, accompanied by a chorus of panicked horses, cows, and various other livestock. “A-actually, we should probably get going before we have to go through this all over again…”

Rose didn’t argue, gently scooping Fiddleford up once again as they hurried out of the monster’s range. Their next goal, to regroup with the rest of the scattered Gems, recover the hyperdrive and finally get home from this lengthy quest, was clear, and that’s exactly what the pair set out to do. Along the way, Fiddleford finally began to slip out of his stupor, though as soon as he did, it was immediately apparent that not all was well with the inventor in the aftermath of his horrific encounter with the fearsome Gremloblin. For much of the trek back up the mountain, Fiddleford was all but incoherent, babbling frantically to himself as Rose carried him to spare his still-unsteady legs from having to walk. Even after a round of precautionary healing tears from the pink Gem herself, the inventor’s shaken manner hardly changed. He was still quite distant and anxious (even more anxious than he usually had a tendency to be), traits that Pearl also shared when the trio found her and the hyperdrive still sitting in the same exact spot in the woods where they had left her. Rose and Ford chalked their worrisome behavior up to the Gremloblin’s nightmarish gaze, and carried the hope that they’d recover from it soon enough, something that Garnet was able to confirm when they met up with her and Amethyst once more. Yet all the same, despite Fiddleford’s tense, fretful silence, Ford still happened to glean one quiet, bitterly muttered thought from his friend as they all parted ways upon making it home that evening. Something about finding a way to forget that it had all ever happened in the first place.

***

In light of the harrowing adventure they had just returned from, Ford was very grateful to find a moment’s rest to catch up on recording his notes on it in the journal. The author had taken to his favorite writing spot, on a surprisingly comfy stone halfway up the hill to the Gem’s temple, one that gave him a quiet, serene spot to jot down his thoughts and observations. He had just about finished documenting his and Rose’s surprisingly swift victory against the Gremloblin, when the pink Gem herself decided to join him.

At first, Rose said nothing as she took a seat on the rock beside him, her pink curls shifting softly in the late evening breeze. And aside from a brief glance her way, Ford simply continued writing, unsure of what to really say to her in light of all that had happened. Fortunately though, he didn’t have to think of anything, as Rose spoke up first instead.

“You know, it’s so funny,” she began with a small laugh that almost sounded bitter in a way. “I’ve spent so long trying to not to be like them, but even after thousands of years, I guess I still have a few things in common with them after all.”

“...With... who?” Ford ventured, slightly worried that, once again, he wouldn’t get a concrete answer. However, much to his surprise, a concrete answer was exactly what Rose finally gave him.

“With... with Homeworld,” the pink Gem sighed, turning her gaze up to the early stars above. “They used to keep things from me—f-from... lesser Gems too. Said we ‘didn’t need to know’ what they did. I always thought it was so unfair. So... in a way, I suppose I understand how you feel whenever I do the same thing to you.”

“...Oh,” was all Ford said, wisely choosing not to press Rose with any further questions on the matter. After all, his own brashness and stubborn craving for answers the pink Gem hadn’t been ready to give had already created something of a rift between them. A rift that the author had no intentions of widening any more than he already had.

“Homeworld... wasn’t exactly a place where Gems could just... be whatever or whoever they wanted to be...” Rose explained slowly, carefully. “There was no freedom, no fun... no love. That’s why, when I first came here and found out that this planet was filled with those things, I knew from the start that the Earth, that freedom, and fun, and love, were all well worth protecting. But they—H-Homeworld, didn’t see things the same way. They wanted to use the Earth to make more of us, to turn it into another one of their countless colonies. If they had their way, it... it would have destroyed the Earth and every single living thing that calls it home. A-and I just couldn’t stand by and let that happen! Which was why I decided to take a stand against them, me and all of the other Gems who felt the same way about the Earth. We came together and fought against Homeworld with everything we had. Like I said before, we left Homeworld behind entirely, all so we could finally exist somewhere else. So we could all be something else...”

“The Crystal Gems...?” Ford inferred, trying his best to hide the initial shock from such a heavy revelation.

Rose nodded thoughtfully. “Back then there were more than just four of us. But... well, what happened to the others is... a very long story in and of itself.”

“i see...” the author’s brow furrowed as he took stock of the pink Gem’s expression, noting the hints of longstanding pain and guilt within it. “I always thought that the four of you had arrived on Earth as part of some exploratory mission and just decided to stay here after all the others left. But now... knowing the truth... I... I suppose I never could have imagined something like, well, that.”

“It’s... not something I like thinking back on...” Rose said, looking down fretfully.

“That’s... understandable,” Ford nodded, suddenly quite remorseful. “Rose, I... I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I just... Well, you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to my research.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘stubborn’,” the pink Gem finally smirked. “I’d call it... ‘determined’. And that determination was something you definitely put to the test earlier today. Which is why I’m so, so sorry for doubting you before. I thought I was just trying to protect you, but you were right all along; you really can handle more than I gave you credit for.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it,” Ford remarked with a small, joking grin. “You wouldn’t be the first to underestimate me, after all.”

Noting the author’s playful manner, Rose was unable to hold back a hearty laugh over this, one that Ford was more than happy to share. Despite the danger they faced earlier in the day, neither of them could deny that the struggles and trials of it all had indeed given way to a newfound sense of trust between them. The author already had an abundance of respect for the pink Gem, perhaps from even the very first day he had met her two years ago. But that respect had indeed been tested to the limits when she had so openly refused to see him as her equal. It was only when Rose herself decided to take on the same sort of respect Ford had for her towards him that the pair, all differences aside, were finally able to truly see eye-to-eye. And, as they’d both come to find out, that respect would be tried and tested time and time again, wavered and torn through portals, and demons, and a tragic separation. Yet even through it all, that respect, though constantly in flux between growing and shrinking, surprisingly was never once broken.

***

“So that’s it?” Peridot cut in the moment it was apparently that Ford, McGucket, and the other Gems had wrapped up their story. “You just went out to that ‘Crash Site Omega’, went in, got your hyperdrive (which is incredibly outdated tech, by the way, I can't believe you managed to find any sort of use for it!), fought a monster, and then went home? How boring!”

“Aw, shucks, it sure wasn’t borin’ at the time!” McGucket exclaimed. “’Specially not that nasty Grem-whosa-whats-it. I can guarantee firsthand that thing was a horrifyin’ freak of nature!”

“So can we, since we fought it off one time too!” Mabel chimed in with a daring grin.

“Excuse me, you what?” Ford asked, instantly concerned upon hearing this.

“Eh, we can tell you about that some other time,” Dipper quickly brushed it off. “For now, I kinda can’t help but think that your story sounds... kinda familiar.”

“Oh yeah!” Steven agreed, turning to the Gems. “Mom being all secretive about Homeworld is basically you guys used to do to us. That… honestly explains a lot, actually…”

“We had our reasons,” Garnet said simply. “So did Rose.”

“And at least we did open up to you all about it… eventually,” Pearl added.

“Yeah, and it didn’t take a hundred million annoying questions to get us to do it either,” Amethyst said, taking an obvious jab at Ford.

“W-well, what can I say?” the author huffed defensively. “I’ll be the first to admit that I was much more… impetuous when I was younger-”

“Impetuous?” McGucket repeated with a laugh. “Stanford, don’t go lyin’ to these youngsters. You were as stubborn as stubborn comes!”

“Not stubborn,” Garnet spoke up, offering the author a small smile. “Determined, just like Rose said.”

“Exactly,” Ford grinned, satisfied. “Determined. Much like you kids are, come to think of it.”

“Determined enough to… oh, I don’t know…” Dipper began rather leadingly. “Tell us what and where Crash Site Omega actually is?”

“Nice try,” the author said knowingly. “But no. Well… at least not yet, anyway.”

“A ‘not yet’, huh?” Mabel looked to Steven and Dipper with an encouraging grin. “Well, that’s not a total no, so its good enough for me!”

“Not for me,” Peridot remarked, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “I’m still not over the fact that you used a Temporal Displacement Hyperdrive, of all things! What kind of relic of a machine were you even trying to build that would need a power source that’s so… so ancient?”

Ford, McGucket, and the Gems exchanged a bit of a worried glance at this, knowing that the true answer to this question held countless missteps and horrors all their own. Yet even if the portal itself had ended in disaster, none of them could deny that the road to get them to its completion had been filled with countless ups and downs and unique stories to tell. It had been a path paved with memories, many of them quite fond, memories that they were all mutually glad to finally have back, even if restoring them had awakened moments they would have just as well left back in the past. But if there was any one thing they could all agree on, it was that they were still glad to have those memories, those adventurous, daring days of discovery and friendship back, tying them together into the team they used to be once more. Which was why it was with a small smile that Ford replied to the green Gem’s question, silently agreeing with the others to leave the pains of the past behind to embrace the best of the present, and the road to the future, instead. “None of us need to worry about that anymore. After all, there are some stories that are better left… untold.”

#jen writes #universe falls #steven universe #gravity falls #crossover #au #ford #rose quartz #amethyst #pearl #garnet #mcgucket #dipper #mabel #steven #peridot #crash site omega #fanfiction

11 notes · View notes