#I agree you’re 33 and I don’t defend you pretty much ever and I sure get hate for that! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 23 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You were right in Alpha seeking revenge for crossing into their lands and now swarms of Walkers are arriving at the gates of Alexandria. Still trying to deal with the emotions in your own mind, you are tasked with supervising Aaron and Negan who are to work together. What happens when the three of you get stuck over night in a cabin together and what is Carol thinking?

Word Count: 6061

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “My Blood” by twenty one pilots

Note: This one takes place in ep 3 of season 10 called “Ghosts”. In this chapter, we get a better look at the reader’s life before the end of the Savior war and especially what they knew about Carl and the letter he left for Negan.

-------

A cataclysmic event.

That was what you witnessed when they dropped fire on Atlanta. Everything was burning and the air was thick with the smell of hot metal and melting tar. You could still remember the way your skin felt as you ran through the street, trying to flee from the destruction.

That was the first night you finally saw a Walker up close. You had seen them on the TV and images that flashed on public monitors in the heart of the city, but never had one been mere feet away. It moved towards you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. You wanted to run, to scream, but you just stood there, watching.

You could hear the commotion behind you as people ran for their lives, but nothing could distract you from the Dead man in front of you. Fresh blood dripped from its mouth as it reached for you. Stumbling back, you couldn’t think to do anything else but examine how something as beautiful as a human being had become...this.

A shot came from a nearby convoy as the military tore through the rubble-filled streets, ending the Walker once and for all. They didn’t stop to ask if you were okay and they didn’t yell at you to run, they just kept going and you were alone again.

As you stared down at the man that once was, you couldn’t stop the thoughts that ran through your head that said, “Perhaps this is next for all of us. Perhaps this is what is meant to happen.”

That thought followed you all the way from the city and into the hills where you eventually met Carl Grimes and it had never truly left you.

Even now as you watched Walkers approach your home in waves, those two little sentences were buzzing in the back of your mind, trying to make themselves known. However, just as you had for about a decade now, you shoved them away and picked up your weapon.

The number of Walkers that fell upon Alexandria was something that you hadn’t seen in years. Being so far from the cities, it was rare to find massive hordes right near the communities or even groups of more than ten or fifteen. However, now there were groups of ten or twenty every time you turned around and you knew why.

Alpha was pissed.

You had tried to warn them when they went over her borders, but of course, nobody batted an eye when you spoke up.

You couldn’t understand how one day your thoughts mattered and the next, they went clear over everyone’s heads. You knew you weren’t in charge, that didn’t both you. What did bother you was that your people had begun to question you, rather than relying on your council. You started to notice it after the blizzard and then even more so as your relationship with Negan furthered.

While you still held a position of respect within Alexandria, you knew that you were looked at differently because of Negan, but you didn’t hold an ounce of resentment towards the man that you loved. Negan was the most important part of your life now and if that meant that nobody looked to you anymore, that was something that would have to get used to.

Especially in moments when you were the only one dealing with the Dead.

Aaron and the others had arrived home in the early hours of the morning, desperate to get their children home safely and when they saw you on watch, they had avoided your eyes immediately. You knew why they crossed over, but if you had had it your way, you would have been glad to watch the world burn.

There had been a discussion, well rather an argument, earlier as more waves of Walkers approached. Lydia had been present in the meeting hall when Daryl had begun questioning her.

You had stayed in the back, ready to jump in to defend her if necessary, but she was handling it well. Lydia had explained that she didn’t think the Walkers were from her mother and that Alpha would have sent a horde. You weren’t so sure about that.

You knew fear tactics and this was textbook.

Then there was the fact that Alpha now wanted to speak to Michonne and Daryl. You hadn’t even volunteered to go with them to the South border because you knew they would shut you down. However, you didn’t mention that bringing Carol was just as much of a risk. While you were pissed and wanting blood, Carol’s vendetta was even more personal.

Once some of the Highwaymen began throwing insults at Lydia, you took her out of the room and let Daryl deal with them. The last thing she needed was more venom thrown at her and you weren’t going to have her stand by and be spit on.

Instead, you began to help clear out the Walkers again while you thought about what to do about her mother. While you didn’t agree with accepting Alpha’s terms and her borders, antagonizing her was the last thing you wanted to do.

If you were going to take her out, you wanted to do it when she didn’t expect it. You didn’t want a firefight or a clashing of swords, you just wanted her and Beta dead. It was that simple. Though, like most things in the fucked up world known as the apocalypse, nothing was ever truly simple.

Negan was not too far away from you, helping to load the corpses into the wagons. You were keeping an eye on him as he worked, but you kept finding yourself distracted as the day wore on. Especially by one memory in particular…

--------

Months Earlier…

“This is either a trick or you pulled some huge strings on the puppet masters of Alexandria,” Negan said as he closed the door to your house behind you. Lydia who was sitting on the couch glanced up from the art book in her hands, something you had found in the garage a few days before and gave to her.

“If you keep questioning Michonne’s decision, she’s gonna send your ass back out into the cold to sleep in the snow,” you warned, taking off your heavy coat.

“I’m not complaining,” Negan said with a grin and a wink. With a sigh, you gestured for him to make himself at home.

“Lydia, did you eat?” you asked as you entered the living room to turn on your newly fixed fireplace.

“Siddiq brought me something,” she said quietly as she stared at Negan who looking at her with curiosity. You gestured between them.

“Lydia, this is Negan. Negan, meet Lydia,” you introduced.

“Nice to meet ya, kid,” he said with a neutral face, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Hi,” she said shyly, folding her legs underneath her on the couch.

“Jailbird here is gonna be staying with us when it’s below zero,” you explained as Negan leaned against the wall near the fire. “So just watch where you step so you don’t step in his ego while he’s here.” Negan scoffed.

“Wow, (Y/N), that hurts,” he said.

“Yeah? Well, so does this,” you said, as you gestured to the fresh wound on your side. “I’m gonna go change the dressing, try not to corrupt her, yeah?”

“I would never!” he called as you climbed the stairs towards your room. However, instead of searching for gauze, you remained on the landing and listened in on Negan and Lydia. “What are you reading?” Negan asked after a moment and you could hear the flipping of pages in the quiet of the room.

“(Y/N) found it in the garage,” Lydia said.

“Ah, Dalí,” Negan said. “I like his stuff.”

“The clocks are cool,” Lydia admitted and you smiled to yourself.

“That they are,” Negan agreed. “How are you doing? I heard life is sort of kicking you in the teeth at the moment.”

“I’m better than I was yesterday,” Lydia said. “At least a little bit.”

“And tomorrow you’ll be a bit better than you were today. Takes time,” he said.

“Nobody wants me here,” she whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“(Y/N) does,” Negan said, “and trust me, coming from them, that means a lot.”

“Why are you locked up?” Lydia suddenly asked and Negan remained quiet. It was only after about a minute that he sighed.

“Do you really want to know? It’s not a pretty story,” he said.

“Neither is mine,” Lydia admitted and then you heard her shifting on the couch, settling in to listen to him.

“Alright,” Negan said, almost reluctantly. “It all started when a man named Rick visited Hilltop for the first time…”

-------

You were knocked out of your memory as arguing reached your ears.

Still reeling from your thoughts, you searched for the cause only to see Gabriel stepping in between Aaron and Negan. Aaron’s morning star prosthetic was already attached and you could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears as you rushed over to find out what the damn issue was.

“You need fighters,” Gabriel was saying. “He can fight, you’re taking him.”

“What now?” you asked, already regretting the question.

“Your buddy doesn’t trust me to help him take out Walkers,” Negan explained. “Though, I’ve already expressed my desire to stay here and bury corpses instead of hanging out with Captain Hook here.” Aaron glared at Negan and you were already getting a migraine.

“Seriously?” you asked Gabriel who was already on the verge of giving up. “Fine, I guess I will play babysitter.”

“Fucking perfect,” Aaron swore.

“Hey,” you said, pointing at him, “don’t break the asshole pact,” you said, reminding him of the conversation the two of you had on his porch before you left for the fair. You had finally repaired your relationship with Aaron and you weren’t going to blow it now.

“I know, I know,” Aaron said, getting where you were coming from, “but it doesn’t extend to him.”

“I never said it did,” you defended.

“You want to referee these two?” Gabriel asked, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine, be my guest!” Gabriel stormed away and you turned to both of the men before you with your arms crossed.

“Great, now you’ve pissed off the Priest.”

————

The three of you walked through the thick forest in silence.

Normally, you would have been chatting or joking with Negan about being outside the walls for the first time together, but your romantic getaway was nowhere near as special as you thought it would be.

Aaron dragged his feet alongside both of you. You could hear his feet digging in the mud and you knew he was doing it on purpose to annoy Negan. Jesus had taught him how to move through the woods in silence just as Lydia was teaching you.

This only made you even more annoyed.

“You’re quiet today,” Negan observed, poking at your side. You looked over at him and took his hand, squeezing it a few times before letting go.

“Sorry,” you said, returning your hand to rest on your sword.

“What’s gotten into you?” Aaron asked.

“I’m pissed off, Aaron,” you explained with a huff.

“Well, I can see that,” Aaron said.

“Not helping,” Negan shot back. Aaron just rolled his eyes at Negan’s comment. You pushed on, ignoring both of them. It had only been a couple of days since the satellite fell and while Eugene felt that harvesting the tech from the machine was necessary, you still thought it was foolish.

Your mood wasn’t getting any better no matter what Lydia or Negan tried. If you were being honest with yourself, you just needed a break. All you wanted to do was go away for a while and not think about communities arguing or masked menaces tracking your every mood.

You just needed a moment.

Now with the meeting happening at the Southern border, you didn’t know what to expect. Just as long as Daryl came back in one piece, you would be okay.

For now.

The three of you ended up in a clearing not too far from Alexandria, but far enough to see where the Walkers would be crossing towards the main road that led home.

Aaron gave Negan an old broomstick to handle the Walkers and he wouldn’t give in to your request of giving Negan your knife. It was ridiculous, but you figured it was better than Aaron yelling and Negan making ridiculous comments.

“You have that look on your face,” Aaron observed as he took a swig of his water after taking out another Walker.

“What look?” you asked, unbothered by the blood stuck to your blade. Negan was nearby, always twirling his stick around to amuse himself.

“It’s the same look you had the day Rick and Daryl brought Jesus to Alexandria,” he explained.

“Annoyed?” you asked, staring off into the trees.

“More suspicious,” he said. “Though, I would throw in just a dash of pessimism, too.”

“Is that so?” you asked.

“You know, when I met you, I really didn’t like you,” Aaron said and you scoffed.

“Ouch,” Negan muttered.

“There was just something about you that I didn’t get,” he went on. “Rick acted as if you were some kind of boogeyman.”

“This isn’t sounding any better, Aaron,” you said, leaning on your sword.

“What I’m trying to say is that you always seemed like the black sheep of the family and I think we need that kind of thinking right about now,” he said, surprising you.

“I thought you would be on team, ‘cross the border’,” you said.

“So did I,” Aaron said.

“But?” you prompted.

“I don’t know anything at this point. At least, I feel as if I don’t,” he admitted. “All I do know is that we can’t treat these...people like we have in the past with other enemies,” Aaron said and you didn’t miss the glance he threw at Negan. Negan ignored him, but he was still listening.

“Right, and now with Daryl agreeing to meet with these psychos...” you sighed.

“Daryl knows what he’s doing,” Aaron tried.

“Well, out of the three of us here, I’ve known him the longest. I know how blind he can be when it comes to his family and with Carol hurting the way she is, he ain’t gonna stop until Alpha is dead,” you said.

“I remember how he used to be,” Aaron said, but you shook your head.

“You didn’t know him before Alexandria, before the Prison,” you said. “Daryl used to be loud and sharp. After his brother went missing he became standoffish and reckless. Nobody could work with him, not even Rick. The crazy son of a bitch once impaled himself on his crossbow bolt when his horse threw him off. Then, he got shot in the same afternoon on Maggie’s farm cause Andrea thought he was damn Walker. The man doesn’t know when to slow down.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Aaron asked.

“It was when nobody knew him. Nobody knew what to expect. The only people he was even decent to were Carol and Carl.”

“Not you?” Negan asked, hauling another body over to the pile.

“Definitely not,” you said, thinking about all the arguments the two of you would get into. “We were civil, but I think we saw too much of each other in another. I remember Merle, Daryl’s big brother seeing us work together against the Governor. He used to make some really ridiculous comments, but one always stuck with me. Merle would say that we were ‘just two screwed up kids who ended up at the end of the world,’ and hell, he was right.”

------

The three of you worked into the late afternoon, early evening as sweat bloomed on your brows and blood stuck to your boots.

Negan did his best to take out the Walkers with his stick, but he was itching for a blade. If Aaron wasn’t around then he knew that you would give him one without question.

As he watched you, he could see how anxious you were getting. You had mentioned that Daryl never slowed down, but you never did either. You became distant and restless when you didn’t have a target in your sights. It was one of the many things he loved about you.

After taking down another three Walkers, you wicked the blood from the sword that had become a part of you.

“I’m going to get some more water,” you announced. “Try not to kill each other.”

“I’ll do my best,” Negan said with a wink. You ignored him as you grabbed the canteens and headed into the trees.

Negan and Aaron were silent as they continued to kill the Walkers that broke off from the main horde that the others were handling. Without you to be there as a buffer, Aaron began to bite his tongue so he didn’t blow up at the man next to him.

Negan however, could feel the heat coming off him.

“Are you just gonna keep staring at me or are you going to man up and tell me what’s on your mind?” Negan said, turning to face his adversary.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Aaron said.

“Ah, we both know that’s not true,” Negan said. “You’ve been just dying to give me a piece of that mind buried under all those curls. So, come on, lay it on me.” Aaron was quiet for a moment before he let his anger win over his decision to remain somewhat civil.

“You’re not good enough for them,” Aaron said and Negan raised his brows, taking in the words.

“If you think that pisses me off,” Negan began, “then I hate to break it to you, but you’re not the first to disapprove.”

“I won’t be the last either,” Aaron threatened and Negan caught onto what he was saying.

“If this is about Maggie,” said Negan, “then I think you need to take a step back. She can want me dead all she damn well pleases, but the fact is, she had her chance to kill me and she didn’t take it.”

“She’d do it now,” Aaron said.

“Why, because I’m in love with one of her friends? Are they friends? Because last time I checked, (Y/N) never talks about her.”

“You don’t get to dissect every relationship they’ve had. You are the reason that (Y/N) lost two people they really cared about, three if you count Sasha,” Aaron said.

“I had nothing to do with Sasha’s death,” Negan said. “I didn’t kill her.”

“No, you didn’t,” Aaron agreed, “but you are the reason she’s dead.” Negan glared at Aaron, trying to control his breathing.

“It was war, Aaron, or are you forgetting your merry bunch of survivors killed my men as they fucking slept? You pulled the trigger first. You can be pissed at me all you want, but do not look at me and see a monster when you’ve shed just as much blood.”

“You wanna know what I see?” Aaron asked. “I see someone that's pretending.”

“Come on, man, just let it go,” Negan said as he moved past Aaron, going to follow you. However, Aaron was faster, throwing out his leg and blocking Negan’s step, sending him to the ground. “Jesus!” Negan swore. “Did you just trip me? What, are you? Twelve?” Aaron sneered at him, but Negan wasn’t having it. Getting to his feet, he towered over Aaron. “What the hell is wrong with you? I've been puttin' my neck on a block for you people all goddamn day!”

“You don't give a damn about us,” Aaron said, not believing it for a second. “If you gave a shit, you'd leave. That's what everyone needs.”

“I can’t do that and you know it,” Negan said.

“Because you love them?” Aaron asked with a scoff.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Coming from you? Absolutely! They may have forgiven you for all the death and torture, but the rest of us haven’t!”

“Nobody has forgiven anyone!” Negan said. “You think (Y/N) forgives me for murdering their friends right in front of them? They don’t and I haven’t asked them to! Look, I did what I had to do back then.” Aaron was silent then as Negan’s words cascaded over him.

Aaron then tilted his head just as a predator would when watching its prey. “What did you say?” he asked, but Negan remained silent. “No, no, no. Open that up. Tell me why the love of my life had to die,” he ordered.

Negan shook his head, but he took the bait. “Okay. One simple fact. One truth kept my people going... if you don't protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later, it belongs to someone else. That goes for your land, your wallet, your home, your country... everything. It is your job as a man to protect it. That's the story of America, the story of the whole goddamn world. And ain't nothing changing it... not you, not me, nobody,” Negan said, getting into Aaron’s face, but the latter wasn’t backing down.

“Are you saying that Eric's death was my fault?” he asked but Negan remained still. Aaron then shook his head, stepping into Negan’s space even more. “Well, if I failed Eric,” he whispered. “Then you failed your wife.” Negan went still, looking down at Aaron with fury in his eyes.

“Careful,” Negan warned, trying to remain calm, but Aaron wasn’t done.

“Yeah. She died hating you, right? Gabriel told us the story and I know that (Y/N) has heard it, too. Hate to break it to you, but you will never see her again.” Negan’s mouth turned into a smirk as light entered his eyes.

“What? You wanna say something?” Aaron challenged.

“Yeah,” Negan said and then with a quirked brow pointed over Aaron’s shoulder. “Behind you,” he whispered as Walkers converged on Aaron. Aaron took out one in a hurry as another, which was covered in vegetation, fell on Aaron, taking him to the ground. Aaron yelled as the Walker reached for his face, but he was able to hit it over the head with his morning star, killing it easily.

However, something was wrong. Negan was gone and Aaron couldn’t see.

------

By the time you got back to the clearing, it was night.

Of course, this was the time for you to get turned around and have to double back. You pushed into the clearing, ready to get the boys back on track when you were met with an empty space.

“Seriously!” you yelled, throwing your hands up. “I say not to kill each other and they leave me,” you muttered. “No, no, (Y/N) they’ll be just fine, just two people who hate each other. Why should it matter if they both care about you? It’s not like that fucking matters.”

You continued to talk to yourself as you shone your light on the ground and managed to find Negan’s footprints. “It’s a good thing you’re practically bigfoot,” you whispered as you headed into the trees. You were then very happy that Daryl had taken all that time to teach you how to track or you’d be out there stumbling over Walkers and roots.

The tracks were accompanied by another set. You figured they were Aaron’s considering how precise they were. Walker tracks were more random and uneven. They led away from Alexandria which only made you even more annoyed. “Right, let’s go away from the walls and the warm food. Assholes,” you swore as you climbed over a fallen tree and kept moving.

Eventually, you saw a flickering light in the distance. Stepping over what was either a dead Walker or a half-eaten deer, you arrived at a cabin. Noises of alarm echoed from the cabin and you ran towards it, kicking open the door. You slid into the main room just as Negan finished killing the last Walker with a crowbar. You would have to ask where he got that later.

“What the hell?” you asked, alarming Negan.

“(Y/N)?” Aaron’s voice came in the dark. “Negan?”

Negan looked at you and in the dark of the room with only the moon to illuminate his features, he looked incredibly intimidating. “You alright?” Negan asked Aaron who was looking around the room rapidly. You took a step closer to him, confused.

“Yeah,” Aaron said. “How did you…?”

“Your light switched on,” Negan explained, reaching down to turn off the flashlight that was on Aaron’s belt.

“What’s wrong, Aaron?” you asked.

“I can’t see,” he said, looking around the room, trying to focus on anything, but couldn’t. Negan kneeled in front of Aaron who stiffened as Negan got close.

“Flowers growin’ out of the Walkers is hogweed,” Negan explained, looking at Aaron’s eyes.

“Hogweed?”

“Nasty shit,” Negan said with a glance over at you. “Causes rashes, blindness…”

“Is it permanent?” Aaron asked as you leaned against the wall.

“Sometimes,” Negan admitted. “You wash your eyes out?”

“Yeah, in a stream, but I… I didn’t have,” Aaron tried and then you realized you still had the water.

“Here,” you said tossing the full canteen to Negan who gave it to Aaron. Aaron drank half of it in one go, desperate to quench his thirst.

“Alright, come on,” Negan said as he helped Aaron off the floor and you were surprised to see that Aaron let him. Negan got him settled in the old chair before joining you next to the window.

“What are you doing?” Aaron asked.

“We’ll take watch and leave first thing in the morning. That good with you?”

“Yeah,” Aaron said softly. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“You two are both idiots,” you said, crossing your arms.

“We know,” Negan and Aaron said at once and you couldn’t help but smirk at that. Aaron settled into the chair, the reaction to the hogweed taking its hold, but he didn’t sleep.

Instead, he listened.

“Maybe don’t run off in the middle of the night when a lot of Walkers are around, okay?” you said.

“Sorry,” Negan said sheepishly. You nodded to him, peering out the windows, letting your mind wander. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

“What?”

“You look lost in thought, have all day,” he said with a shrug.

“Uh, I was thinking about Rick,” you said.

“Anything in particular?” he asked. You were quiet for a moment before turning to fully face him.

“I lied to you before,” you said.

“When?”

“When you asked me what the vote was on what to do with you. I told you that Rick just decided. He and Michonne had the final say, but that wasn’t the whole truth,” you admitted. “Rick asked me what I thought he should do.” Negan was quiet for a moment.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing at first,” you said. “I didn’t have an opinion right away. I was angry with you and I wanted you to pay for what you did, but I… I didn’t know if death was the answer. I was conflicted.”

“Why?” he asked and you looked at him with glossy eyes.

“Because of Carl,” you admitted and you saw something shift behind his eyes at the mention of the late teen. “I read the letter that he wrote to you. Michonne let me after she had given me the one Carl left to me. I knew what Carl wanted. He wanted the fighting to stop, he wanted the hate to stop, and he wanted you to be a better man. How was I supposed to deny him that?”

“Did you tell Rick this?”

“Sort of,” you said with a sigh. “I told him that Carl had written to me asking me to take care of him and Judith. Carl trusted me to be the protector of his family because he couldn’t anymore, but he never needed to ask. I would have died for Rick and I will die for RJ and Judith if it came down to it.”

“I know,” Negan whispered.

“I thought about it for hours, the question Rick asked me, and then I told him that it wasn’t up to me and it wasn’t really up to him either. Carl had already made the decision. Rick had already made promises to the people he loved. He promised his best friend, Shane, that he would protect his family because Shane did it first; He promised Lori that he would protect Carl and he did.

“What happened to Carl wasn’t Rick’s fault no matter what he thought. Most of all, Rick promised Michonne that he would build a good life for their daughter, and I had to remind him that he wasn’t allowed to break that promise. Carl had an idea, and if we had killed you, we would have been dishonoring him and everything he wanted to fight for but couldn’t. I had to make a choice and for once it wasn’t for my survival, but for securing Carl’s legacy. You once asked me why I stayed in Alexandria when I felt as if I never quite fit.”

“And you said it was because Carl was buried there,” he remembered.

“Alexandria is strong and still standing because of Carl. It’s not just because his grave is there. It’s because everywhere I turn, I see that kid’s influence. I made a promise when I read the letter he wrote to me. I can’t break it now and I never will.”

“Where is all this coming from?” Negan asked. You wiped at the tears that formed in the corner of your eyes.

“I feel as if I’m starting to lose sight of him, Negan,” you said. “I look around and I don’t see Carl, I see Alpha’s face or Jesus’ blood on my hands. I can’t see the good anymore.”

“There is still good in this world, (Y/N),” Negan promised. “You just gotta search a little harder.”

“I’m tired of searching,” you said. “I try to be there for Lydia, but most days I have no idea what I’m doing. What the hell does she see when she looks at me? I don’t even know what I see when I look at her.”

“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at Lydia?” he asked.

“What?”

“I see a scared kid who’s had a shit life and who needs you to look out for her,” Negan said.

“Right,” you said, but Negan wasn’t convinced you were getting it. You then looked up at him. “What do you see when you look at me?” Negan didn’t even hesitate.

“Possibilities,” he said and it threw you for a loop. Looking at him in the dark of the cabin, you could only see the truth pouring from him.

“What do you see when you look at yourself?” you whispered.

“Not much,” he answered.

“Negan…”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’ve accepted it. You know, when I went back to the Sanctuary and saw what everything had become, I finally got it.”

“Got what?” you asked. Negan reached out and dragged his knuckles along the back of your arm, savoring the feeling as if you were going to fade away.

“That my number was up the second Rick told me he was going to kill me in that clearing,” Negan said, avoiding your eyes. “I just didn’t know this would be how he’d do it, condemning me to a life of self-hatred,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Why are you saying this to me?” you asked.

“I’m just trying to let you know that it’s okay if I don’t get the happy ending. I was more of a fan of horror films than fairytales anyway,” he admitted.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Just…” Negan trailed off and then pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you. “Just be still with me right now. Just, be still.”

-------

Negan eventually fell asleep after you convinced him to get some rest.

You were too wired to even think about sleeping. You sat on the floor between Negan and Aaron, your sword reflecting moonlight across the dark room. The next time you heard a voice, it was Aaron’s and not Negan’s.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron whispered. “I didn’t mean to run off.”

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching up to squeeze his hand. Aaron went to say something else then when Negan began talking in his sleep. You were used to it from all the times you spent by his side in bed, but Aaron froze as he listened to the nonsense.

It wasn’t until actual words were formed that Aaron sat up. “Simon,” Negan muttered. “Si…,” he said again and then went back to mumbling before growing silent again. It had been a while since he dreamed about Simon, you realized.

“What the hell was that?” Aaron whispered.

“Negan, he talks in his sleep. He says the names of his victims sometimes.”

“Simon?” Aaron asked, surprised.

“Negan strangled him when he tried to overthrow him. Simon was the one who ordered all the men and boys to be killed at Oceanside. He killed the boy at Hilltop and was the one who massacred Jadis’ people. Negan never knew any of it,” you whispered.

“Makes sense,” Aaron said and you furrowed your brow.

“How so?”

“Negan doesn’t hurt kids,” Aaron said simply.

“No, no he doesn’t,” you said, glad that Aaron understood that.

“He still grinds my gears,” Aaron said.

“I know.”

“And since when is he a fucking botanist? Hogweed, really?” Aaron scoffed.

“He’s been out in the world for a long time,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” he said and then, “I never knew about Rick.” You sighed, but you figured he had been listening.

“Nobody knew, that was the point.”

“I guess I never realized just how much he put on you,” Aaron said.

“I didn’t mind,” you said, leaning your head against the chair.

“Maybe you should’ve.”

-------

The next morning, Aaron was still struggling with his eyesight, but it was getting better.

Negan slung one of Aaron’s arms around his shoulders to help him walk as you carried the weapons. Rosita pulled open the gate when you got home and yelled for Siddiq as you explained what happened. The doctor came running down the street with worry. Once he saw that Aaron was in one piece more or less, he took him from Negan.

You knew that Siddiq and the new doctor, Dante, would get him fixed up in no time. After making sure Aaron was okay, you began to lead Negan back to his cell. As you approached the Grimes’ house, you noticed Michonne, Daryl, and a very pissed of Carol standing on the stoop.

“Uh oh,” Negan said as he stuck close to you. As you got closer, Carol shoved past both of them and into the house. The look on Daryl’s face made you incredibly nervous considering he had just returned from the meeting with Alpha.

You and Negan stopped next to them and Michonne seemed to relax at the sight of you, knowing that at least you were okay.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Carol shot at Alpha,” Michonne divulged and you sighed, trying to contain your anger.

“Fucking fantastic,” you swore. “How much shit are we in now?”

“She knew we crossed,” Daryl said. “She knew about all of it. The fire, the blizzard, and even when Michonne and Aaron crossed by the river. She’s got people everywhere.”

“So Carol felt the need to light the fire further?”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t have?” Daryl challenged but you remained quiet. Daryl shook his head as he walked away. “I need to find Lydia,” he said before heading across the street.

“This is only going to get worse now,” you said to Michonne who nodded.

“I know,” she said. “Get ready for a fight.” Michonne turned and followed Carol back into the house, still rigid from the night before. You sighed, gripping the sides of your head as every fear was coming back.

“Are you actually pissed Carol tried to kill Alpha?” Negan asked.

“No,” you said, removing the keys from your belt, “I’m pissed that she missed.”

AN: Next Chapter is going to be an important one. Hint: Carol becomes desperate and turns to an unlikely ally.

TAGS:

@lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

#the walking dead #walkerwords #savior sessions #negan imagine #twd #twd imagine #negan x reader #negan x gn reader #negan fanfiction

93 notes · View notes

o-w-quinlan · 3 years

Text

Digimon Adventure: (2020) Final Thoughts

Considering I stopped reviewing this series episode by episode months ago, they’re more positive thoughts than you’d expect, though still not all that positive.

To summarize, this is an entertaining series with plenty of individual good aspects and great episodes that nevertheless leaves me cold as a whole. Much as I enjoyed following it week to week, I can’t say I recommend this series to anyone but hardcore Digimon fans, or hardcore fans of the wider “monster” genre.

Action

It felt appropriate to start with this, considering a focus on action was what the initial interviews promised, and they delivered in spades. It wasn’t perfect or too consistent, there were several times when the Digimon not evolving when they could just broke any tension the fights had, but this series had some of the best fights in any Digimon anime. Anything in the first 3 episodes, Greymon/MetalGreymon vs MetalTyranomon, SkullKnightmon vs Greymon and Garurumon, Mugendramon vs DoneDevimon, Mugendramon vs WarGreymon, Millenniumon vs the dragons, Omegamon vs Abbadomon Core… all of them among the best things the franchise has to offer in terms of action scenes, which after so many series where fights were solved by having a protagonist Digimon evolve and one-shotting the enemy, comes as a breath of fresh air (to be fair, this series also had a lot of that, but it had actual great fights to compensate).

Worldbuilding

Another thing promised in interviews was the use of Digimon from all over the franchise, and not only did they deliver, but they also included plenty of references to the “null canon” to enrich the experience for the most hardcore fans. The series made sure to constantly emphasize the savage nature of the Digital World, bringing back the Tamers worldbuilding of Digimon consuming weaker Digimon in hopes of achieving evolution. Along the way we saw a lot of allies fighting back against this status-quo, from things as overt as Leomon organizing a resistance or Petaldramon protecting weaker Digimon from the all-consuming Entmon, to less dramatic stuff like weak Digimon settling down to live together, or the mere presence of a restaurant where everyone can rest for a while of the hardships of their world.

The biggest flaw here was in how the series handled its antagonists. With very few exceptions, every single enemy Digimon in the series lacked dialog, whereas nearly every single ally Digimon could speak normally, and this disparity cheapened the whole thing, because instead of coming across as “this mentality is normal for this world”, it came across as just your normal “everyone lived together in harmony until the villains attacked”, which is very much not what the series was telling us.

Characterization

That brings us to the next point: the lack of personality for most villains. I joked elsewhere that Minotaurmon from episode 19 was the most compelling villain of the series, and that’s not completely a joke. Almost every single villain of the week was flat, plenty of the “main” villains were lacking in dialog (Algomon in the first few episodes, Nidhoggmon, Millenniumon) or turned mindless halfway through (Devimon, DarkKnightmon). Negamon/Abbadomon in the final episodes managed to benefit from this by being the embodiment of an “instinct”, but in general this meant a mook-of-the-week like Minotaurmon managed to be a highlight among the villains simply by having dialog and non-trivial desires.

But what of the protagonists? The popular opinion is that everyone is far blander than they were in the original series, and I agree. But rather than comparing it with the first series, let’s look at what it had to offer to us. Where in other Digimon series, the backstories and issues of the protagonists and their reactions to what’s going on around them make for most of the drama, in this series the drama comes from the villains trying to destroy everything, and for the most part that means the protagonists only need to be distinct and charming on their own, no necessity to create conflict between them. There is an overall character arc for all of them, though: accepting and interiorizing their new duties towards the world they had ended up stranded on, getting to know and love the Digital World. Was this well done? Not really.

Taichi and Takeru, for example, were so much the embodiment of the stock shonen hero that accepting their place in this new world didn’t really reveal anything about them we hadn’t already seen from their first few appearances.

Jou got stuck as an unfunny punchline 90% of the time, to the point of damaging his few “serious” moments in some of his focus episodes. His development of becoming assertive was compelling in theory, but it got muddled with so many unfunny and uncomfortable hotsprings jokes that the impact was lost.

Hikari started as an even more blatant plot-device “mysterious character” than she was in the original series, before unconvincingly changing to cheerful little girl afterwards (the whiplash between her in episode 33 and her in episode 34 was something else), and only really managing to settle into a compelling character in her last focus episode (58, defending the Digitamas from the Bakemon and SkullBaluchimon, which to be fair is a great episode and probably the best showcase for Hikari as a character in any product or continuity).

Koushiro was mostly fine, although we all remember the several times the series seemed to promise it might do something with him (his uneasiness when his family was mentioned, or that line about having to “face the darkness of his past” in the HerakleKabuterimon episode) that ended up being nothing.

Mimi is the fan-favorite, being charming in nearly all her appearances and having some of the best focus episodes, and it’s mostly deserved. If there’s anything I criticize from her, it’s that her focus episodes don’t really add up to anything.

Yamato was fine, started out as a stock shonen rival before becoming the single most chill “lone wolf” in any Digimon series, probably because of what I said before of the conflict between the protagonists no longer being the source of drama. He gets a slow development of caring only for his brother to starting to care for other Digimon for the sake of Sora and Gabumon to caring about the Digital World just as much as everyone else.

Sora was made fun of by a certain section of the fandom for having the worst focus episodes early on, and I agreed, but having finished the series I can’t get rid of the impression that her focus episodes, while perhaps not that good on their own, when taken as a whole explore her character the best of any other. Yeah, this mostly means exploring her compassion (these are not very multi-dimensional characters), but they deepen and deepen both her impact on the Digimon she saves and how she is impacted in turn by them, moving her away from saving others through her combat prowess to saving others by empathizing with the grief of another caring soul, and by the end I honestly ended up considering her my favorite character (despite none of her episodes making it to my list of favorites).

As for the Digimon… it’s following in the footsteps of other Digimon Adventure products by not really having much of interest for the Digimon themselves except for Tailmon.

Overall, for the most part the main characters were decent, but besides Mimi and ultimately also Sora, I don’t think they’re very memorable. All of them start out promising, but never really improved from that promising start (again, except for Sora).

Pacing

And now we get to the biggest problem of the series: Pacing. I’ve seen it stated elsewhere that this series was more episodic than most (any?) other Digimon series before it, and part of the backlash it got was from not being as serialized as fans expected it to be. This isn’t exactly true. From episode 16 (Eyesmon) to episode 24 (DoneDevimon), this series was as serialized as any other Digimon series has ever been, with nonstop escalation that demanded you keep watching it week after week. Then, from 25 to 35 (Angewomon) or 36 (BlitzGreymon), it pulled slightly back from that never-ending escalation, but was still pretty serialized. It was only afterwards that it became heavily episodic, and by that point it wasn’t expectations set up by previous series that hurt it in the eyes of the fandom, it was expectations set by this series itself in its first half.

Not that the episodes themselves were bad. Honestly, I found myself significantly more entertained by the episodic later half of the series than the serialized first half. Maybe it was because they didn’t feel the need to convince me they were the most exciting, tense thing I had ever seen when they were clearly not (hello, Mamemon episode), or maybe it was that there were more than just endless fights to them, but I normally ended up those episodes entertained and satisfied, whereas with a lot of episodes from Eyesmon to BlitzGreymon, I mostly just felt frustrated after watching them. I agree with the criticism that, when seen as a whole, breaking momentum so hard for so long after months of never-ending escalation wasn’t the right choice, but when seen week after week, I can’t see this change of approach as that bad of a thing.

Conclusion

I think that sums up the series for me. On a weekly basis, it’s pretty entertaining. It’s when seen as a whole that the problems really become clear. There’s been some speculation in the past few weeks of how much the current situation in the world might have impacted the series, but ultimately, I have to judge what actually happened, and I can’t help the impression that this series ultimately left me with nothing of substance after it was all said and done. Like, I enjoyed this more than, say, Appli Monsters, but Appli Monsters have things that stick with you after it’s over. Not so much here, unless you’re a hardcore fan that loves the Omegamon lore this added (which I am, btw; love that Omegamon lore). I don’t think I can recommend this series to anyone who isn’t a hardcore Digimon fan, or at least a hardcore fan of the wider “monster” genre.

One thing I’m grateful to this series for, though, it’s the commercial boost it has given the rest of the franchise. I’m not going to credit it for all the successes it currently has, after all the Card Game would have fell off by now if it wasn’t genuinely well-done and the Vital Bracelet happened because of years of the virtual pet division progressively building up its audience after it had nearly died off, but it’s undeniable they wouldn’t have sold as well without this anime advertising the franchise week after week. Next week, we’ll have the first episode of Digimon Ghost Game, the first time since 2001 that we have a Digimon series being immediately succeeded by another. If that isn’t a sign of how well the franchise is doing right now, I don’t know what is.

Favorite Episodes: 1 (Tokyo Digital Crisis), 6 (The Targeted Kingdom), 12 (Lilimon Blooms), 20 (The Seventh One Awakens), 32 (Soaring Hope), 42 (King of Inventors, Gerbemon), 49 (The God of Evil Descends, Millenniummon), 56 (The Gold Wolf of the Crescent Moon), 58 (Hikari, New Life)

#digimon #Digimon Adventure:#Digimon Adventure 2020

7 notes · View notes

iheartbookbran · 3 years

Note

1/ Okay, this is going to be a bit of a long reply, but do you honestly think Jaime is comparable to Cersei? Cersei has never done a single good thing in her life, has been murdering kids since childhood, and hardly regrets a thing. But Jaime? Like, pre-AGOT, what great crimes has Jaime committed with Cersei, besides incest? It’s pretty clear from Cersei’s POV that she’s been acting autonomously on everything besides conceiving Joffrey. Jaime hasn’t been involved.

2/ Getting into ASOIAF, Bran: yes, totally unforgivable, but a classic trolley situation in which GRRM states most people would do the same. And Jaime has said he’s ashamed in-text, more on that later I presume. Arya: his absolute lowest point, and he acknowledges it as such. It comes at a time when he’s practically out of his mind following Bran, and disturbs the hell out of him later. But hold him to account for sure, this is the closest he ever gets to being like C.

3/ Baby Tully: personally, I think it’s pretty clear in-text that Jaime isn't going to do this. If you look harder at Jaime’s whole relationship with bluffing, the way bluffing is being discussed in these chapters, and Genna, an insightful character, saying Jaime is NOT like his father, it becomes obvious that this is just an ugly attempt at imitating Tywin, complete with trebuchet. It’s dark to threaten this at all, sure, but Edmure is expecting dark so Jaime serves it.

4/ Slut-shaming Cersei - I mean, his thoughts are pretty fucking unpleasant, but… he’s human? This woman has cheated on him, multiple times (and not just as a means to an end, see Taena) whilst asking him to throw away his entire life since he was 15 to remain loyal to her. But sure, let’s just call it slut-shaming lol, Jaime should obviously be proud of Cersei and support her in fucking whoever she likes?

5/ Jaime and consent: GRRM is appalling at writing consent, I totally agree (look at Asha and Qarl)… but he has outright said that the twins’ sex is consensual, whether it looks it or not. You are going to have to use death of the author here if you want to argue that it’s anything otherwise, but by all means call GRRM out for his bad portrayal of it. Tysha: Jaime already knows he was wrong, and it’s plagued him his entire life. But let's not hold him accountable for his dad's extremes.

Oh boy, ok, let’s unpack all this, shall we? Honestly if someone had told me even yesterday that I’d be reciveing Jaime anons out of all the characters, I wouldn’t believe them. Because, again, I’m no renowned Jaime expert and my investment in him extends to... he’s interesting alright, I hope he stays alive long enough so that Bran gets to fling some shit at his face at some point or another in the next two books, but that’s really it.

1. So on the “Cersei has never done a single good thing in her life, has been murdering kids since childhood, and hardly regrets a thing. But Jaime?” part of your ask. I don’t believe there’s much difference on when someone starts committing crimes and it makes it somehow less bad of you don’t begin in your childhood, Jaime could have been attempting to kill/maim children at 13 or at 33 and guess what I would still believe he’s an asshole for it. He’s made choices that involve harming others in the name of maintaining his precious affair with his sister and upholding his family’s crimes, and it doesn’t matter to me when he started on it. This is not a fucking “evilness” point accumulation and Jaime doesn’t get a pass just because Cersei got a head start.

2. “Bran: yes, totally unforgivable, but a classic trolley situation” Sorry, nonny, but did you just compared Jaime pushing Bran from a window so he could continue with his toxic relationship... to the fucking trolley problem? WTF? Jaime, a goddamn adult with critical thinking skills, chose to continue that affair for years and years while having full knowledge of what the consequences of being discovered could be. He chose to be reckless and take his chances anyways. He was between the sharp object and the hard place because he chose to put himself there, and he doesn’t get to say “well I had no other choice” now because he fucking did, for years, he had a choice, and he went ahead with the most selfish one and when the consequences of his actions almost caught up with him, he again choose to be a selfish jerk and harm an innocent bystander, a child, that had no part in any of it. And you could argue that he did it to protect his own children but lmao, Jaime really doesn’t care that much about his children, lbr; just remember how he thinks of Joffrey. Cersei never gave him the opportunity to connect with them that’s true, and he only starts to bond a little with Tommen during aFoC, but I just think that if Jaime truly, sincerely, cared that much about his children’s well-being he could’ve oh idk stopped having sex with his sister??? Instead of being in a position in which he has to ruin a little boy’s life so that he can go on his merry way, even if he feels bad about it, that will never be good enough for me. Jaime had a choice, Bran didn’t.

3. “Baby Tully: personally, I think it’s pretty clear in-text that Jaime isn't going to do this.” I mean, given Jaime’s track record of shoving children from windows so that he can cover his and his own family’s ass, I’m not so sure about that, but fine, that still doesn’t mean that threatening someone with killing their baby so that they will submit to your will any less of a jerk move. I also think you’re kind of missing the point: Jaime here wants to have his cake an eat it too. He tells himself he’s upholding his oath to Catelyn (he really isn’t) while at the same time siding with the fucking Freys and aiding them, he’s basically giving legitimacy to the Red Wedding, the one thing most people agree was a hideous unforgivable act. I just think that if I make the active choice to defend and side with criminals, then I’m not less of a criminal myself.

4. Lol, I made that slut-shaming comment with a clear tongue-in-cheek intent, I obviously know their relationship at present is far more complicated than that, and I do think Jaime has the right to feel betrayed, I just also think that Jaime has this tendency of glorifying Cersei without actually truly seeing her for what she is. At times I almost feel like he considers her the fair innocent maiden to his noble knight, and that’s a big farce to both of them. When Cersei inevitably fails to live up to his expectations he’s shocked, as if he hasn’t known her all their lives.

5. “GRRM is appalling at writing consent, I totally agree” yes of course, he’s the same guy who considers Dany/Drogo consensual, that doesn’t mean I can’t still call it out and see it as a flaw. But even more than that, as you say next: “Tysha: Jaime already knows he was wrong, and it’s plagued him his entire life. But let's not hold him accountable for his dad's extremes.” like, again Jaime recognizing something is wrong and feeling bad about it doesn’t magically absolves him of it. Of course he’s not responsible for his dad’s fuckery but he’s guilty of withholding the truth from his little brother, whom he claims to love, with the full knowledge that it was an extremely traumatic experience for him, and that it had plagued him all his life, while patting himself on the back thinking that’s the right thing to do, and Jaime rationalizes it believing that of course Tysha couldn’t possibly care for Tyrion, so she was doing it for the money, which makes her no better than a whore (because Jaime, too, can be a misogynist UwU). You know, Tyrion has a lot of bad going on for him, but my god he’s 100% right in being furious with Jaime in this situation.

Like as you said, Cersei’s big problem is her lack of empathy, but Jaime’s is his apathy. With some big exceptions like when he killed Aerys and protected Brienne, Jaime’s apathy towards what he fully well knows is wrong and yet choses not to do anything about it is my biggest qualm with him. It’s something I believe GRRM is working with his development, but so far as the story goes, he hasn’t really made any significant turn, so I’m not giving him a gold star for participation. I mean, I realize that I’m the minority here when it comes to my opinion of Jaime, and maybe, nonny, how you and other fans interpret him is how he’s meant to be interpreted, but I don’t care lol. Writing this made me remember what GRRM said...

“Sometimes he felt like showering after writing a chapter about Cersei, though, as her world-view is quite unsympathetic.”—In this article.

I honestly wonder why he had to take a shower for Cersei torturing people (who yes, is a horrible evil person, I’m not trying to defend her), but not for Tyrion strangling a woman or Jaime crippling a child for life, but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#well now let’s stop talking about jaime i’m sick of him #better tell me about ur day anon babe #ask #Anonymous #ask pam #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire #valyrianscrolls #meta #my meta

18 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 33]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. None edited chapters are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Alright, here we go again!

Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

“You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Pat agreed, “but you did.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

“Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

When they got to the Musée Fabre museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

He dithered from a few moments before following Pat inside. Pat had already struck up a conversation with the woman charging admission into art museum. She was looking at him, her brow knit as he spoke. Janus nudged him away from her getting a confused glance from him in return. He shot a smile at the woman.

“Two adult passes for the museum and the Hotel Sabatier d’Espevran, please,” he said, placing down 14 euro.

“Ah,” she said, still looking at Pat oddly. “Yes sir.” She gave them the passes and Janus quickly shuffled Pat away.

“What is wrong with your French?” he hissed once they were out of earshot.

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

“You sound like you’re reading Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. No one talks like that anymore.”

“I’m a little rusty,” Pat defended himself.

“Two centuries?” Janus asked. Pat stuck his tongue out like a child once again. “Is that your only way to respond to legitimate criticism?”

“What does it even matter anyway? No one ever expects time travel, at least not for something so silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Janus said. “It’s a legitimate issue. The wrong person who’s watched too much science fiction notices and you’re putting the timeline at risk. Not to mention if there are other time travelers around that aren’t as nice as me.”

“Are there a lot of time travelers around?” Pat asked, sounding intrigued.

“There are plenty, both legal and not.”

“Huh,” he said, “but what are the chances we’ll run into another one?”

“Considering the time distortion? There could be many. Opportunists wanting to capitalize off the chaos, people trying to stop it, like me, and not to mention the person who caused it.”

“Wait, someone made it happen?” Pat asked.

“These things don’t just happen naturally.”

“Huh. So, something like this has to be caused by a person?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “…Why?”

Pat smiled. “No reason. I think we should head upstairs. Whatever I’m picking up says it’s around here, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a floor or two above us.”

“Which is why it’s ridiculous to use Google Maps.”

“Would you rather use yours?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m still not convinced it’s not your doing,” Janus growled. “Why does your tech still work when mine doesn’t?”

“Probably the same reason the ring did,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You may be the most aggravating being in the universe.”

Pat glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “It would be a much bigger risk to the timeline than me speaking in French from the 1830s. But, I’m pretty sure the reason mine still works is just a software difference.”

“What the hell do you mean a software difference?”

Pat opened his mouth, doubtlessly to supply him with yet another frustratingly cheeky and unhelpful answer. Yet, Pat did not have a chance to do so as, just as Janus stepped onto the second floor of the museum, the ground started to violently shake. Janus tried to turn to catch Pat as the other man’s foot slipped on the last step, but he couldn’t do so in time. Pat fell onto his hands and knees, sliding back a few steps and smacking his face into the stairs hard once and then a couple of times more after that as he slid.

Chapter 13

The room stopped shaking after a moment. “Ow,” Pat said. He seemed a bit stunned but was still moving at least. He carefully maneuvered himself into a seating position. “Ouch. Owie.” He reached up to poke his own nose. “Ow!” Janus slapped his hand away when he got there. A bit of blood was already trickling from his nose and there was a small cut over his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

He took it and pressed it up against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He seemed mostly alright though Janus imagined he’d have plenty of bruises down the line. The power in the museum flickered and Janus looked up. Now that he was listening, he could hear people panicking in and out of the museum.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Pat agreed. Janus helped him to his feet, and they climbed back up the steps. Janus looked around and found an employees only sign a few feet away. Usually he’d not risk that as it could get him into trouble he didn’t want to be in, but considering the earthquake that had just happened, he could probably play it off as panic.

He ushered Pat into a small room and found a chair and table. He had Pat sit in the chair and pulled out another one of the tissues to dab at the blood coming from the cut over his eyes. “Here,” he said. “Hold that there. I’m going to go see if there are any bandages about.”

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

“What do you mean?” Janus asked. Remus grimaced in a way Janus had never seen from him before. It immediately set off alarm bells in Janus’s head. “Oh my god,” Janus said. “Oh my god. You’re not from the same time as me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

Janus opened the box and Pat looked down. His eyes lit up with sudden joy so intense that Janus felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. “Kitty Band-Aids!” he exclaimed. Janus bothered to actually look at the design on the container, only to note the cartoon cats on the front. Pat was almost vibrating off his seat. “Look they’re all so cute!” He grabbed the container from him to inspect the different designs printed on the back with glee even as a bit of blood was still trickling from his nose.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

“Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Janus selected one of the Band-Aids with a black cat wrapped around a pink ball of yarn and staring back at them with wide green eyes. The think looked like it had partaken in one two many doses of catnip, but Janus didn’t mention that.

Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“Oh, he deserves it, don’t worry.” Janus considered him for a moment. “Here,” he said, pulling out one of the Band-Aids with the grey cat on it. It did, actually, look a lot like Diesel Fuel.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

Pat got out his iPhone and directed him back out of the room. They checked the second floor and didn’t find anything and so went to the third floor. The second they arrived in the room that Pat’s phone was directing them too, Janus knew that it must be right. There was a strange, distorted whirling sound and the entire room was shaking slightly like they were standing next to a railroad track.

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

“Is that it?” Pat asked, pointing at a small device on the center column in the room. Janus reached forward to flip the switch on it. The whirling stopped and the room settled. Janus’s time piece vibrated as it came back online. They waited for a few moments. “I assumed… time distortions would be more…”

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

Chapter 14

Janus didn’t feel comfortable leaving France 2027 just yet, still weirded out by the strange turn of events. So, he and Pat ended up sticking around for a couple of hours. They looked through the art museum for a bit, but Janus was having trouble focusing on the pieces, and Pat eventually suggested they get some air. Janus agreed considering the museum would close for the night soon anyway.

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

Pat was snapping photos every so often like a tourist which Janus shook his head at but allowed because even with the outdated phone it almost made them blend in even more. It also might stop any questions about Pat’s weird way of speaking French. They could just say he was an overeager tourist who watched too many old movies.

“Ooo!” Pat said. “We should get crepes.”

“Why?”

“You can’t go to France and not eat crepes.”

“I assure you, you can,” Janus said dryly.

Pat shot a pout at him and the next thing he knew he was in a small crepe shop.

For Janus, choosing something was easy. He just ordered the first thing he found on the menu which seemed to be a standard one with ham and eggs. Pat on the other hand seemed to be struggling greatly, and Janus had to gently push him to the side to let some other customers order first.

“What should I get!?” Pat asked. “They all look so good! I could do strawberry preserves or maple syrup or just sugar!”

“Or you could get one that is actually food,” Janus suggested mildly. “I don’t think you need any more sugar judging by how you are acting.”

Pat rolled his eyes. “You sound like Lo.”

Janus made a note of the name ‘Lo’ even though it surely was a nickname.

“But, since you’re insisting, I’ll get something healthy. I’ll have the strawberry one. That’s a fruit!”

“It comes with a cream cheese filling,” Janus pointed out.

“And it’s fruit!”

Janus shook his head and stepped up to the counter. “One ham and cheese and one strawberry preserve, please,” he said to the cashier as he was not allowing Pat to order in French and accidently say something stupid. He forked over some euros.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Pat protested when he saw that.

Janus glanced back at him. “I was afraid you’d try to pay in francs,” he said dryly.

It looked like Pat was about to stick his tongue out at him, remembered that Janus had criticized him for that earlier, and then just scrunched up his face in displeasure as though that was any less childish.

They waited for their crepes to be finished and then went to eat them outside near a water fountain.

“I can pay you back for the crepe,” Pat said after they sat down. “I do actually have euros.”

Janus waved him off. “It wasn’t that expensive.”

Pat hummed. “Well, in that case. I insist on paying for a wish for you.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “In the fountain!” Pat clarified.

Pat set aside his crepe to dig in his pocket for a couple of coins. “Here!” he said handing one over.

Janus glanced over at the fountain. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Pat beseeched. “You have to want something. I’ll even throw it in for you, but you have to make a wish first!”

“No.”

“Please!”

Janus sighed. “Fine.” He popped the rest of his crepe in his mouth. “I wish for a crepe,” he said after swallowing.

“You just had a crepe, silly.”

“But I liked it, so I want another one.”

“We can go back and get you another crepe.”

“Ah, but I’m not hungry anymore.”

Pat crossed his arms. “You’re just being difficult on purpose.”

“Not me,” Janus said putting hand over his heart. “I would never do something like that.”

Pat glared at him, but then snatched the coin out of his hand. “Fine!” he said. “One crepe wish coming right up.” He hopped up with the two coins and darted over to the water fountain. Janus turned to watch him go but then happened to catch sight of something out of the corner of his eyes.

Pat’s phone.

He didn’t pause in his movement, completing the turn, but as he watched Pat close his eyes, presumably to focus on his own wish, Janus snuck a hand out and grabbed the phone without looking. He slipped it into his own pocket.

Pat came back over after throwing both coins in the fountain and didn’t even seem to notice that his phone was missing, picking up his crepe to take another bite. Just to make sure, though Janus decided to distract him. “What do you think of your crepe?” Janus asked.

“I like it! It’s sweet, but not too sweet. There was a crepe place across the street from my apartment in college, but they always put a bit too much sugar in the dough, I think. I’d still eat them, but these are much better.”

Janus nodded and kept up the light conversation until Pat was finished.

21088

“Well,” he said then, getting to his feet. “It seems that nothing else is going to happen regarding the time distortion. I should be getting back.”

Pat hummed. “I should too. It’s movie night!”

“I probably should arrest you,” Janus noted.

“In the middle of all of these people?” Pat asked mildly.

“Touché,” Janus said.

Pat gasped and pointed at him. “Pun!” he said. Janus blinked at him. “Because we’re in France! That’s French!”

“…Goodbye Pat,” Janus said, turning to walk away from him.

“Goodbye… wait I still don’t know your name!”

Janus stopped to look back at him for a moment. “Like I said,” he replied. “Elvis.”

“Fine,” Pat said. “Au revoir, mon chéri.”

“You never stop, do you?” Janus asked.

Pat giggled. “Considering I don’t know what you mean, I imagine I’m just getting started.”

Janus actually left then, walking off towards the alley he’d first arrived in. In some ways, the mission had been a bust, but in others it had gone very well.

He felt for the weight of the phone in his pocket before pulling up the display screen on his timepiece to go back to the TPI.

It had gone very well indeed.

Chapter 15

The first thing Janus had done when he’d returned to the TPI was hand over the timebomb to Khalid who sent it to forensics. Within the hour, forensics got back to them that it was the same timebomb as 2999 and that it had never exploded, but simply been diffused. Which meant, blessings on blessings, everyone got to go home that night.

Not that Janus went home, no, he ended up falling asleep on his desk somewhere between 3 and 4am, but at least he wasn’t sharing his space with anyone. He’d been trying to hack the cell phone all night to see if it had anything he could use, but he honestly had no idea what he was doing. All it seemed he could do was play some annoying song over and over again about never giving someone up. At around 2am, he’d finally broken and sent off an email, though, he’d continued to try to mess with it after that.

He got woken up by Lena coming into the office at 7am, and noticed he already had an email response asking when Janus wanted to come in.

“Now?” he sent back.

“…Do you sleep?” was the immediate response. “And yes.”

His wrist buzzed as an appointment in 5 seconds downloaded to his timepiece. He selected the coordinates and landed at Cultural Outreach. The receptionist blinked up at him and then back down at the screen on his desk. “Oh!” he said. “I didn’t see this appointment. I think Professor Eran is in his office.”

He didn’t stand to escort Janus this time, so Janus went ahead and went down the hall to Virgil’s office himself.

He knocked on the door and while he was waiting for Virgil to open it, the infernal contraption once again started to play the same stupid song.

“I didn’t even touch you!” he spat, getting it out and tapping on the screen.

“Jonas Brothers dude again?” Virgil asked causally upon opening the door.

Janus shoved it at him. “Make it stop.”

Virgil took it and fiddled with it for a few moments before it stopped with the song. “Oh my gosh,” he said scrolling through something on the screen.

“What.”

“What maniac sets a custom alarm for every 30-60 minutes for a week that just plays ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’? Oh, and one ‘It’s Not Unusual’ on Saturday. He’s mixing memes at an alarming rate.”

“Can you. Just. Make it not happen. Anymore?”

Virgil smirked at him. “Maybe.” He turned around to go back into his office.

“Virgil,” Janus growled following him in.

Virgil just laughed. “What do you want to know about it?” he asked. “Just a fair warning… the song means he… likely was aware someone would steal it.”

“Of course, he was,” Janus groaned.

“But I’m sure we can still get something out of it.” Virgil started tapping at the screen again. “Okay, let’s see. It’s an iPhone 5, and someone jailbroke it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Tampered with it so they could install non-company approved software,” Virgil explained.

“Well I figured that since he was using Google Maps to track time distortions,” Janus grumbled.

“I think I have something,” Virgil said to himself while digging through his desk. “Ah ha!” He held up some sort of cord. “This will let me hook it up to my integrator.” He slotted the cord into the bottom of the iPhone and then crawled under his desk to fiddle around with some other things. “There we go,” Virgil said popping back up. “It might take a few minutes. Running the program any faster might overheat the phone.”

Janus nodded and sat back to wait. Virgil grabbed the phone and started to play around with it a bit even as it uploaded all of its information to his computer.

“Weird,” Virgil said after a moment.

“What?” Janus asked, sitting up straighter.

“There are exactly two contacts. Fewer than I’d anticipate for a regular phone from the 2010s. More than I would expect from one clearly not being used as a phone.

Virgil glanced to the side, and it must have finished the download because he unhooked it from the computer. “I have a 21st century phone network adapter,” Virgil said. “It transfers call back to whatever date the phone says. Do you want to try calling one?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Janus replied.

Virgil dug back into his desk for a small device that he plugged into the same port he’d plugged the earlier cord. “Okay, which contact do you want to try first?” he asked. “One has ‘Ro’ with a crown, red heart, and a gold star emoji. The other has “Lo” with a book, blue heart, and Milky Way emoji.”

“He mentioned a Lo,” Janus said. “So, try him first.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll put it on speaker.” He pressed some buttons before setting the phone on the desk between them.

The phone rang three times before with a bit of a crackle, it was answered. “Salutations,” a voice said, voice sounding a bit scratchy as though he had only just gotten up.

Virgil motioned with his head for Janus to speak. “Are you ‘Lo’?” he asked.

The man hummed. “To some people.”

Janus… didn’t quite know what to say to that, or even what questions he should ask.

“I’m assuming you’re the man that stole my associate’s phone.”

“Your associate?” Janus fished.

The man made an amused hum. “I believe you were calling him ‘Pat’ on your last adventure.” Janus could hear something being placed down on the other end of the phone. Before Janus could respond, he heard what sounded like an old keyboard being typed on. “Now,” Lo said. “I have to admit, I am surprised you were willing to oblige me so thoroughly by plugging the phone into your system. Let’s see…”

The screen on Virgil’s lit up bright blue all of a sudden. “…shit,” said Virgil.

“Well,” Lo said, “it seems you were clever enough not to plug it into the TPI system, which is disappointing, but…”

There was more clicking on the other end. “Hmm, interesting music tastes for the 4000s,” he said.

“I’m an anthropologist,” Virgil spoke up.

“Ah, yes, I can see that,” Lo replied. “Virgil Eran, senior professor at Silver Mountain University, a vetted member of the Cultural Outreach program, and searched the phrase ‘How to eat sushi without making a cultural blunder and making everyone hate you and losing your job because what kind of shit anthropologist doesn’t know how to eat raw fish right’ which you then shortened to ‘How to eat sushi’ and proceeded to search 52 times in the last 48 hours.”

Virgil went a bit scarlet around the ears. “Dude, did you really have to out me like that?” he hissed at the phone.

“My apologies,” Lo responded. “From my personal experience, don’t dip the rice parts in soy sauce, and don’t add too much wasabi. Overall, most people will be understanding of mistakes, and you will certainly not be fired or ostracized for handling food incorrectly. As long as you are not acting intentionally disrespectful, and I image you will not be considering your clear anxiety over whatever outing you are planning to attend, you will be fine.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Good point, but counterpoint, what if you’re wrong and everyone hates me forever?”

“Is it the lunch meeting today at 11:30am?” Lo asked, “because I can see that a Professor Boris Laden has attended the event multiple years in a row. Considering he is a philosophy instructor, has no Japanese heritage that I can see, and I have found a photo of last year’s event wherein he has placed his chopsticks vertically in his rice, and he has yet to be fired or ostracized, I would postulate that your fears are unfounded.”

“Yeah but… okay, I really don’t have an argument for that one, except maybe I’m a piece of shit and everyone is looking for a reason to hate me.”

“Considering your many impressive accolades in your field, I would argue that ‘a piece of shit’ is not a good descriptor of you. Not to mention the fact that you are often a highly requested member for different committees in your department and outside of it.”

“Oh, but is that because people like me or because I’m an anxious mess and make sure events go off without a hitch?”

“From experience, disorder with people you enjoy the company of is far more tolerable than order with people you do not. Which explains my current living situation and the lack of finished dishes in my sink. Therefore, I would assume the former.”

22735

“A lot of assumptions,” Virgil commented, but he was smiling slightly.

“Assumptions based on data,” Lo argued back lightly.

“You really came in here, hacked into my computer and smacked my anxiety in the face, huh?”

“Glad to have helped.”

“Y-”

“Are the two of you finished?” Janus interrupted, finally getting sick of the two of them.

“Not nearly,” Lo said. “I have gained access to an entire network of a very large university and will be sorting through the data for a long time.”

“Ugh, right,” Virgil groaned, “and you got access through my integrator.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to trace it back to you if you don’t tell them.”

“Nice try,” Virgil said dryly, “but not likely. I’m telling them about you immediately so they can work to kick you out.”

Lo laughed. “Fair enough, but I’ve already gotten plenty of information at this point. Including the fact that you work with the TPI and scheduled an appointment with an Agent Janus Picani this morning set to start a few minutes before this phone call. So, hello Janus.”

“Bastard,” Janus shot back.

“And goodbye Professor Eran. It was a pleasure.” He hung up.

Virgil sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “This is going to be fun to explain to both of our bosses.”

Arc II What We Do to Each Other

Chapter 16:

As it would turn out, Janus and Virgil did not get in trouble for hooking up the old phone to Virgil’s integrator, mostly because it wasn’t really a mistake on their part. The phone cleared all virus checks that the tech people both from the university and the TPI ran on it. The phone should have been clean and should not have caused an issue.

In fact, they were still trying to pin down the code on the general university server. They could tell that something was mucking about on the system but what or how was a mystery. This also meant that there was no telling what information had been compromised and considering how many things Silver Mountain had its hands in, that was… a bit worrying.

Another worrying thing was there was suddenly more activity of late at the TPI. There were more time distortions popping up every day. Usually they would be few and far in between. There had been 3 total recorded the year before, but over 12 in the last week. Some of them were fake like the one Janus had investigated, but some of them were real. It painted a distressing picture and also was a drain on their resources. Khalid was actually looking to advertise positions to hire new recruits which was something she rarely did as she liked to keep appointments to the TPI in house.

They’d even loosed the number of field agents needed for each mission and Janus and Remus had been splitting up just to get everything done. Today, he and Remus had thankfully only two missions scheduled for the day.

“Are we going together or separate today?” Janus asked Remus.

“Think they’ll burn me at the stake for being a witch if I go alone to either of them?” Remus asked.

“I don’t know. Probably. I think we’re getting a bit late into the 1700s for that in Cuba, but I have no idea about Mesopotamia.”

“Let’s just go together. I did not like almost drowning yesterday because I was the only stranger in town when the weather was going wonky.”

“Surely it isn’t because you opened your mouth. Ever.” Janus said dryly.

“How was I supposed to know he was the local clergyman’s son?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “On second thought,” he said, pushing a button on his desk to choose Cuba as he next mission, and standing up. “I don’t want you coming with me.” Yet, he did not protest when Remus also signed up for the Cuba mission and he waited for him by the office door before going to talk to Rhi.

Rhi was a bit frazzled when which meant quite a bit as she was usually incredibly put together. Remus didn’t even seem inclined to tease her today.

“Okay,” she said once they’d closed the door behind them. She flipped through some documents on her desk. “Picani and Clockson. Camaguey Cuba 1755. Do you know Cuba?”

“Uh,” Janus said. “Yeah?”

“Like you’re reading the things, right? I don’t have to babysit you, right? You got it? The Seven Year War was happening, but it won’t affect you much as it hasn’t really hit Cuba. It’s the middle of the Camaguey Carnival. Everyone will be everywhere and there will be chaos so as long as you don’t really fuck up you should be fine. Um…apparent races.” She looked up at them and studied them each for a moment as thought looking at them for the first time despite having known them for years. “It’ll work. Go to costuming.”

“Shouldn’t we…” Janus said, “sign things?”

“…Yep,” she said, fiddling with her desktop and then sending documents over to their side to sign.

Janus and Remus both did before sending them back.

“Great. Good.” She stood and grabbed some things from behind her. “You can go.” She sat back down as they took their things and Janus noticed a message pop up on her desk. She looked up at Remus looking exhausted. “What?” she asked.

“Just open it,” Remus said.

Rhi tapped it and a photo opened.

“I got her a new mouse toy!” Remus said happily as Rhi looked at the picture of Diesel Fuel attacking a cloth mouse.

“That is… appreciated Agent Clockson,” Rhi said. “Now get out.”

They did, leaving to get their costumes on and checked. Costuming was just as busy and frazzled as Rhi had been and they actually had to wait for decon because there’d been a mix up with the agents leaving before them. They landed in Cuba without issue. Janus could already hear the festival in full swing outside the small building they’d were in. Remy was standing there with a very not time appropriate mug of coffee.

“Sue me,” Remy said when Janus raised an eyebrow at it. “Please just… get in and out without causing trouble. Seriously. I don’t want to have to deal with that on top of everything else.”

“We’ll do our best,” Janus assured.

Remy pulled his sunglasses down to look at him. He looked exhausted. “God please do more than your best.”

Janus nodded tightly. “We’ll be in and out,” he said, already glancing at his timepiece. It had been disguised as a golden bracelet which made it a bit harder to actually use, but wrist watches wouldn’t be invented for more than a century, so they’d have to make do. “The time distortion, if that’s what it is, should be in the middle of town. Let’s go.”

He and Remus exited the building onto the packed city street.

Janus was immediately bombarded with all types of sights, sounds, and smells. There were many colorful articles of clothing and costumes as people went every which way along the street talking to other members of their community, playing instruments, and dancing. There was the sound of people speaking Spanish, still mostly almost pure Castilian Spanish with perhaps a bit of influence from Taino as the Haitian revolution had yet to push the Creole language over to Cuba. People must have been hard at work cooking different dishes for the carnival as many different spices wafted through the air. It was sticky hot considering it was the middle of June in the tropics and Janus was immediately sweating despite the temperature appropriate clothing he’d been outfitted with.

He glanced around their immediate area, just scoping out the crowds. His eyes were immediately drawn to one person near them.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said out loud when he saw Pat. Remus looked in the direction Janus was.

Even if Janus didn’t recognize him the moment he laid eyes on him, he probably still would have ended up staring as he was the only person in the area who clearly did not know how to do the dance he was attempting.

Remus snorted and Janus shook his head in secondhand embarrassment. “Well, would you look whose boyfriend’s here,” he said to Janus. Make that firsthand embarrassment. “Has anyone told him the Mambo wasn’t invented until the 1900s and also that’s not how you do it?”

Chapter 17

Pat stopped dancing the moment he saw Janus approaching him, but he still bobbed cheerfully ( and unrhythmically) to the music. “Hi Janus,” he said pleasantly.

“You just have to rub it in, huh?”

There was a flash of confusion across his face, but then he smiled. “Well, I know where in our relationship you are. How was France?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“You stole the phone,” he laughed.

“You stole the bomb,” Janus countered, “and you wanted me to steal the phone. You booby trapped it.”

“No,” Pat correct, putting a finger up. “We have security on my phone because in high school I once forgot it in the school locker room and long story short, the three of us ended up in a lake. So, then Lo made sure I always had some sort of tracker on it. When I started time traveling, he updated it and when I met you we updated it again in case there was ever an opportunity like that. Lo calls it using our weaknesses to our advantage.”

“He’s a bastard too,” Janus growled.

Pat just laughed.

“Is someone talking about me?” Remus asked, stepping over to them. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Pat said, blinking at Janus’s partner for a moment. “Remus.” He hesitated slightly. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Remus asked. “Uh, I’m doing good. A little stressed out with work, but fine.”

“Good,” Pat said with just a little too much heartfulness to it.

“What?” Janus asked, eyes narrowed at Pat. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Pat asked. He met Janus’s eyes briefly and it made panic surge up Janus’s spine because the look Pat was sending him wasn’t one that said he was playing dumb. It was a warning.

Oh, Janus did not like this. That look told Janus Pat had some foreknowledge that he absolutely could not tell Janus about without messing up the timeline spectacularly. This was why this mess the two of them were mixed up in was so bad, but it seemed Janus did not have much of a choice when it came to Pat.

Despite how bad of an idea he knew it was, he still wanted to push, because whatever Pat was hiding could be very, very bad and it had to do with Remus. There were so many reasons Pat could be acting like that around Remus, but the worst ones were definitely the ones on his mind. Death, injury, illness. They were all possible especially in their line of work and especially with how time was being screwed with right now. And Pat knew. He knew exactly what the answer was, and oh did Janus want to push.

Experience knowing what worse things could come out of having foreknowledge made Janus bite his tongue.

“So, what are you two doing here,” Pat asked, and Janus unhappily let him change the subject.

“Oh, like you don’t know,” Janus replied.

“I don’t know,” Pat said innocently.

“There’s another time distortion,” Janus said, “and while you didn’t know what it was the last time I saw you, I’m pretty sure you do now.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a time distortion here. I can help you if you like,” he offered sweetly.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if I could find the Flying Dutchman,” Pat told him.

“And so you went to Camaguey?”

“Uh huh.”

“One of the farthest places from the ocean in Cuba?”

“Is it?”

“I don’t trust you.”

Pat just shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want my help finding the time distortion, I’ll just be on my way then.”

“Wait,” he said when Pat went to turn away. Pat paused. Janus turned to Remus. “Remus, do you think he’s bullshitting me so I let him wander off and do whatever the hell he’s doing, or do you think he’s bullshitting me into letting him come with us.”

“Hmm,” Remus said, looking Pat up and down. Janus could immediately tell he wasn’t going to get any helpful answer. “Well, if we’re going with the how much do I get to see his, admittedly very sexy, ass criteria.” Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Letting him leave now means instant gratification and a nice full image when he turns away. However, letting him go with us means many more opportunities to get a glimpse, but they’d probably just be glimpses. So, yeah that’s a tough call.”

“You didn’t even bother to give me an actual hidden suggestion with that bullshit,” Janus groaned. He glanced at Pat only to see him hiding his very red face in his hands. Janus blinked. “Oh,” he said. “You got him, Remus.” Janus was surprised. He’d expected a bit more tenacity for someone with Pat’s personality. Of course, Janus was used to Remus, so that perhaps had some effect. Pat made a muffled distressed sound behind his hands and Janus raised an eyebrow. “You really got him.”

Pat flapped one hand around while still using the other to completely hide his face. “It’s just. His face. Saying that. Is weird.”

Janus could not say that he didn’t feel a slight spark of joy at seeing Pat flustered. After all, Pat’s weapon of choice had often been flirting with Janus in the past. However, he still smacked Remus on the shoulder when it looked like he was about to continue with something likely far more inappropriate. “We are here for a reason,” he reminded. He turned to consider Pat and squinted at him. “You’re coming with us, I’ve decided. I don’t want to let you out of my sights. Don’t,” he said empathically turning to Remus as the man opened his mouth once more.

Pat had mostly recovered, though his cheeks were just a bit pink still. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll go with you. Where do we start?”

Janus glanced at his timepiece. “It’s not showing up on our trackers yet.”

“It messed with your tracker last time,” Pat pointed out.

“I know,” Janus said. “Which means it could be another fake one or whatever is causing it hasn’t started yet. If things start going wrong, but it still doesn’t show on our radar, it’s almost certainly a fake one, but some of the fake ones haven’t blocked our technology.”

“Here, I can check,” Pat said.

“Please don’t pull out an iPhone,” Janus begged.

Pat stuck out his tongue at him, and then smiled. He reached for the bracelet on his wrist and twisted it back and forth a few times before pressing his palms together. He glanced around them quickly to make sure no one around them was watching and then peeled apart his palms like he was miming reading a book.

“What the fuck is that, and how do I get one?” Remus asked immediately. It was innocuous, whatever it was. If someone from this time caught a glimpse of the display, they’d likely assume it was a trick of the light, but staring right at it, Janus could tell it was a map of the surrounding areas with a softly glowing blue light marking their current location. Janus could see no screen or origin of a hologram. It looked like the image was drawn onto the man’s palms, but as he watched, the image shifted to zoom out.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything major yet,” Pat said wiggling his fingers a bit. The display changed slightly to some sort of colorful overlay Janus did not understand. Pat hummed. “Did you two come from that building recently?” he asked nodding at it.

“Yes,” Janus replied. “How do you know?”

“There’s sometimes a slight temperature change when people time travel,” Pat explained. “I can read it on here.” He tilted his head. “There also seems to be a big enough temperature change in a church a few blocks away that could indicate time travel. Want to check it out?”

“We might as well,” Janus agreed.

“And if it’s nothing, we can get drunk on the communion wine!”

“He’s going to get immediately struck by lightning,” Janus said.

Chapter 18

“If we see anyone,” Janus said as they entered the church. “You keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me? Remus, do you understand me?”

Remus immediately turned to Pat. “You know, I didn’t grow up Catholic,” he said to Pat who looked at him in confusion. “So the first time I ever entered a Catholic church, you can’t blame me for being a little confused about the whole cabinet thing with a wall between them. After all, everyone was singing about glory to god and what not. So I…”

Janus slapped him. “This is why you were almost burned at the stake yesterday.”

25821

“Excuse you,” Remus said, putting his hand over his heart. “I was almost drowned.”

“You were almost drowned?” Pat asked, his voice seeming legitimately distressed.

Remus shrugged a smile on his face that caused a Pavlovian migraine to start up behind Janus’s eyes. “It’s one of the hazards of the jobs, and really it would have all been worth it if I’d actually gotten to drown in that man’s…”

“We’re in a church!” Janus cut him off switching from Spanish to Swahili in the hopes that no random passersby would be able to understand him in this time and place. “Don’t talk about lewd sex things. Don’t talk about sex at all. It’s a Catholic church!”

Remus continued to speak in Spanish with no regard for anything. “But not talking about lewd sex things takes away 3/4ths of my personality,” he pouted.

“More like 9/10th,” Janus grumbled, “and the other 1/10th is just normal stupid.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t be mean,” Pat scolded, in fucking English for some reason, “but Remus, honey, you probably shouldn’t be saying things like that right now.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Remus said switching to English.

“He’s my partner, I have the right to call him stupid,” Janus insisted.

“And I love you too!” Remus said in Greek because he was really, truly, stupid.

26042

Pat looked between the two, but then seemed to accept it, dropping the concerned expression for a slightly amused one. “If you say so.”

“Can I… help you?” A voice asked. All three of them whipped around to see a young boy looking at them and seeming very confused. Which was fair considering that to his ears, they’d just been speaking nonsense.

“We’re here to pray!” Remus claimed, then he turned to wink at Pat and said under his breath in Swahili, “to that ass.” Pat went immediately bright red again, which was doubtlessly Remus’s aim. Janus subtlety stepped on his foot while smiling at the boy.

26150

“Oh,” the boy said. “Okay.” Thankfully, he didn’t seem interested in questioning the random strangers in front of him further. “I’m going to go back to the celebration now.”

Janus smiled at him. “Have fun,” he said. He waited for the boy to leave through the front door before slapping Remus on the back of the head.

“Ow!” he whined sounding far too pained for how hard Janus had actually hit him.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Let’s just start investigating,” he said.

“Sure, sure, you never let me have any fun,” Remus said, pulling up his wrist and spinning the golden bracelets on his arm. “Hmm…” he said.

#study break stories #not writing

26 notes · View notes

mortedeveles · 4 years

Text

Bookworm.

SUMMARY: You’re lucky enough to meet your favorite Pro Hero Red Riot at your local libraries a few times and you slowly begin to pin after him but you’re not a fool- he’s a Pro Hero and you’re a simpleton civilian, nothing could ever happen- which is why you decide to go on a blind date. You’re stuck in a loud and noisy club, and Kirishima’s the last person you expect to see there, sliding into the stool that was once your date’s.

PAIRING: ProHero!Kirishima Eijirou x fem!reader

THEME/GENRE: romance, pining? [ONE-SHOT]

TW: mentions of drugs, cursing and attempted physical and sexual assault.

A/N: I wrote this oneshot with this prompt!

- “Hey,” A says, sliding over on the bar stools to get B’s attention. “Don’t drink that. I think your date’s trying to drug you.”

this is my first Kiri fanfic! lmk what you think! if you enjoyed, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment! i really appreciate the support! fb is always welcomed ^^

as for my mha anonnie, i’ll start working on your request! afterwards i’ll be focusing on finishing the bonuses of model for me, then resume with ‘a letter to my love’! i also have a secret project coming up <33

‘’In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’’

You bite your lip in excitement as you flip through the pages of the book, feeling your heart soar at Mr. Darcy's words. However, your peaceful moment was quickly interrupted by a loud voice. You sigh in annoyance and strain your ears in a pitiful attempt to block out the bothersome voice, but it only gets louder.

''Where is it? Darn it...'' Slowly, you raise your gaze from the book. You spot a guy in the aisle in front of you, that you managed to see through the empty spots of the bookshelf and once you recognize the guy- you freeze.

It's Red Riot. One of the top Pro Heroes and your favorite Hero. He's the manliest hero in history! You make sure to inhale and exhale shakily before you pass out from shock.

You pinch your arm to make sure you aren’t dreaming. Red Riot, a top Pro Hero, fussing in the same library as you?! A small sting of pain confirms your suspicions- it’s reality.

If it wasn't for his red spiky hair and teeth, you wouldn't have recognized him. Slowly, you take a deep breath and walk into the aisle he's currently standing in. A smile breaks on your lips when you see him searching through several books, fussing and muttering under his breath.

''H-Hey,'' your voice is low and you stutter more than you'd like, but it's loud enough for him to hear. He immediately raises his head and smiles brightly at you.

''Hi there!'' the toothy grin on his face makes your cheeks warm up.

''I, it looks like you're struggling with something. I don't work here but,'' your eyes dart to his outfit. He's wearing a black hoodie of Ground Zero and a pair of black sweatpants with red sneakers. It's simple but looks irresistibly good on him. You quickly avert your gaze.

''I thought you could use some help. Is there anything you're looking for?'' your grip on the book tightens.

His face brightens- more than possible, you believe- and he nods.

''Thanks! Yeah, I'm looking for a book called Pride and Prejudice?'' your eyes widen.

''Oh,'' you say. It's the book that you're holding.

Kirishima seems like an eager reader- who are you to deny him the book? You've read it twice, it won't harm you to share it for once.

''Here you go,'' you raise the book with a smile.

Kirishima raises an eyebrow. He doesn't accept the book and you cough awkwardly. You hadn't even mentioned which book it was.

''Oh! I'm sorry for not explaining earlier,'' you feel like an idiot as your face warms up. ''I had the last copy of Pride and Prejudice.'' The Pro Hero's face immediately lights up and he takes the copy in his hand. His finger brush against yours and the touch makes you slightly shiver. Not in disgust nor pleasure but...something else. Though short-lived, it’s a pleasant feeling that makes your heart speed up.

You quickly retracted your hands with a strained smile.

''Wow!" he stares at you and then at the book with awe. ''Thank you so much! That's so manly of you!'' your heart flutters at the compliment. ''Are you sure you don't want it?''

You're quick to shake your head with a polite smile. ''No, it's fine! I've already read that book two times...'' you laugh awkwardly and much to your surprise, Kirishima laughs with you. His laugh isn't forced and sounds like music to your ears- masculine but so cheerful that it makes your body relax.

''Okay then,'' he smiles toothily. ''Thanks um....,'' you quickly realize that he's asking for your name.

''Y/N!'' you make sure that your voice is clear and confident. ''I'm Y/N L/N. It's a pleasure to see you around, Mr. Red Riot,'' you cringe at the odd honorific but Kirishima smiles warmly.

''You can call me Kirishima,'' he walks past you and squeezes his hand on your shoulder.

''It's a pleasure to meet you, L/N! See you soon.'' he shoots you one last toothy grin before pulling up his hoodie and walking away from you.

You're speechless- you've just had a proper conversation with your favorite Pro Hero- and barely manage to wave in response.

The next week, you were back at the library. You had been a bookworm since a child and while some found solace in friendship and social gatherings, you found peace and solace in books.

This time, you unconsciously made sure to not look like a homeless like you usually do- and wore a pair of skinny jeans, a loose t-shirt, and a pair of vans.

A part of you said that it was in case you bumped into Kirishima again, but those were just silly fantasies. He was a busy Pro Hero, defending the citizens of Japan. What chances did you have of bumping into him again at the same library?

Turns out that you had every chance in the world since you spotted him slouched in a chair, a new book in his hands. You smile warmly at the sight of him. His red hair makes him even more noticeable but thankfully, the area he's in is pretty much empty so no one has noticed the Pro Hero.

''Hello, Kirishima,'' a smile plays on your lips as you look down at him.

He immediately perks up at your voice and quickly rises from the chair, greeting you with a lovely smile.

''Hey, L/N! I'm glad I caught you here. How are you doing?'' his voice is earnest and you fight back a blush.

''I'm doing great, thank you. How are you doing, Kirishima?'' you sit down on the chair next to him and he quickly repeats your actions.

''I’m doing okay, but I feel better now that I’ve seen you,'' you can't help but stare at the faint blush that covers his cheeks. Did he blush because of you? Was he...flirting with you?

You giggle at the thought and smile at him with confidence.

''So, what did you think of the book?'' you inquire. You notice that his right foot is tapping the floor repeatedly- is he nervous?

''The book?'' he sounds confused for a couple of moments. ''Oh! I loved it! The writing was so alluring and I think it was quite romantic,'' he grins widely and you can't help but agree with him.

''I'm glad to hear that,'' you smile softly. ''Are you here for another book?''

Kirishima nods vigorously and you laugh quietly. He seems like an eager child.

The two of you engage in some relaxed chatting- exchanging some gentle touches and by the end of your conversation, both of you are blushing.

You continue to visit the library weekly and so does Kirishima. He's incredibly kind, respectful and such a gentleman, you can't help but develop a small crush on him.

It brings you immense joy when he asks you out on a date. It's nothing too fancy, he told you with a sheepish smile. The two of you would meet at a park and perhaps get some coffee.

You wait impatiently for the day of your date. And finally, you're starting to get dressed for your date when your phone rings with a message. The contents make you frown.

Kirishima: Good evening Y/N,

Kirishima: I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to make it for our date today. Some Pro Hero business came up.

Kirishima: I hope you can forgive me. Can we reschedule?

Your heart drops and all your insecurities begin to seep into your heart. A part of you wants to believe him- he's a Pro Hero, after all, his agenda must be pretty busy- but the insecure part of you suggests that he decided that he wasn't interested in you anymore.

You type out your reply with a heavy heart.

Y/N: It's okay, Kirishima

Y/N: Sure, let me know when.

Once you send the message, you immediately call your best friend. Your date being canceled has put you in a foul mood and your best friend always knows how to cheer you up.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

''I think you should try going on a blind date, Y/N?’’

‘’You two aren't dating after all and I think you should still have your options open,'' your friend suggests but you frown. By the way, she phrases it, sounds like she's considering your romantic partner options as objects.

''Actually, I know just the guy!'' your friend exclaims. She drops her yogurt on the table and claps her hands together.

''You do?'' you ask absentmindedly, swirling your yogurt with a wooden spoon. Your eyes drift to the customers that are entering and leaving the yogurt shop.

''Trust me, you'll love him. He's extremely attractive, charming and I can guarantee that at least if you don't date, you'll have a great night,'' she winks and you laugh briefly.

Maybe your friend was right. There was no reason why you should limit your options.

You're a nobody, a mediocre citizen, the insecure part of you whispered. He's a famous Pro Hero. Did you expect a date with him? He’s way out of your league.

The insecure thoughts make you swallow visibly and shove yogurt into your mouth in an attempt to distract yourself.

Your friend's words lead you to your current situation- standing outside of a loud club. Clubs weren't particularly your favorite spot, but the guy had told you to meet him there. He said he would show up in a denim jacket, black tee-shirt, and jeans. His hair color was a light brown.

You patiently waited for him to arrive since you had arrived early. Once you spotted him between seas of people, you wave vigorously with a forced smile.

The moment he spotted you, he smirked and waves back. You've only known for a couple of seconds, but there's a feeling of dread and fear boiling in your stomach.

''Hi!" you eagerly greet him once he's in front of you.

There's a confident smirk on his face and he introduces himself as Fumihiro Bando. The two of you quickly slip inside the club and linger at the bar, having a light conversation.

Even though he hasn't done anything wrong yet, there's something about him that you can't wrap your finger around. Something about him makes you want to run away, but he's been nothing but polite to you, so you decide to brush the feeling away.

''Here,'' he speaks loudly over the booming music and hands you a drink. ''I'll be right back, I'm going to get more drinks,'' You open your mouth to disagree but he quickly turns around.

A sigh escapes your lips as you toy with the straw of your drink. He was attractive- you couldn't deny it, but you didn't feel any type of connection with him. Not to mention that something about him didn't feel...right.

“Hey,” A voice speaks up next to you. You stop nursing your drink and turn to the left, and stifle back a shocked gasp. An oddly familiar bulky redhead is sliding into onto the stool next to you.

Kirishima is sitting next to you and the look on his eyes makes you furrow your eyebrows. Being so close to him makes you blush and goosebumps rise on your skin, he's so close that you notice how he smells like. It almost feels...intimate.

You aren't strangers with the man, he's talked to you before in the library but this is different- it feels different. The environment isn't like before. You're not in your usual baggy clothing and neither is he- you're wearing a revealing skin-tight outfit that accentuates your body and he's wearing black jeans, a white tee-shirt that presses against his muscles and to top it all of it, a black leather jacket. He's oozing seduction.

It seems that all the confidence you gained from the alcohol evaporates and for a few moments, you feel painfully sober as you attempt to speak.

''H-hi...'' is all you can manage. Even though you sound like an idiot, Kirishima offers you a sympathetic smile before his gaze drifts to the drink in his hands. His eyes narrow.

“Don’t drink that. I think your date’s trying to drug you.” his voice drops down to a whisper. Your eyes widen and your hands immediately loosen around the glass you were carefully holding seconds ago.

''What...?'' you swallow nervously and search for an answer in his expression. He seems to be on alert- his eyes are constantly changing focus- surveying the entire club.

''How do you know that?'' you murmur. ''Why...um,'' your voice dies down when you spot your date from afar. He hasn't spotted you yet and he's weaving through crowds but it feels like someone dumped a bucket of insects on your head. You can feel goosebumps crawl all over your skin.

Kirishima seems to notice this and presses his hand on your back, steering you away from the bar.

''Let's go,'' he whispers in your ear as you rise from the stool. ''It's best if you lose him. I'll get you somewhere safe, okay?''

You can barely walk and keep up with his long strides, your legs are trembling and your toes feel numb.

During the entire time, Kirishima keeps his hand on your back- it doesn't lower or move at all, but he keeps his grip firm as he helps you weave through the crowds of dancing bodies.

Once the two of you are outside of the club, you breathe in the fresh air and feel your body tremble harder.

Kirishima begins to rub circles on your back and whisper comforting words. You can feel your breathing regulate and you slowly regain your composure.

''There you are.'' the cold voice of Fumihiro Bando makes you freeze.

Kirishima turns around to face him and places you behind him.

''Hey there,'' Kirishima's tone is friendly, but his eyes are narrowed. ''Do I know you?''

Fumihiro scoffs and looks at the redhead with disgust.

''Ditching me for another guy? I've barely met you for a few moments and I can tell you're a fucking whore,'' he snarls.

Your pride stings with his words and Kirishima stiffens at his words.

''That isn't very manly,'' he says calmly. ''Apologize to her. It's unmanly to disrespect woman.''

Fumihiro snickers and steps forward, glaring daggers at Kirishima.

''Why don't you shut the hell up and fuck off?!'' Fumihiro pushed Kirishima, but he didn't even budge. The push did absolutely nothing to him. Fumihiro seemed to notice this, as he swallowed visibly and took a step back.

''Do you realize who you're talking to?'' Kirishima said coldly. ''I would calm down if I were you.''

He scoffed and glared at the redhead.

''What? Your gym muscles aren't scaring anyone, buddy.''

''Those aren't gym muscles, you dickhead,'' a new voice growls. You jump and tighten your grip on Kirishima's arm.

A tall, lean but muscled guy with spiky blonde hair and blood-red eyes steps out of the club and glares at Fumihiro- and it takes you a minute to recognize who it is- Pro Hero Ground Zero!

Oh dear, you think. Your legs are jittery- meeting two Pro Heroes in one day? You're ready to faint.

''You're disrespecting the Pro Hero Red Riot, you piece of shit,'' Ground Zero growls. Fumihiro's eyes widen. ''And me, by being here. Now fuck off before I get angry.'' Fumihiro scowls but scrambles away and once he's out of your eyesight your body relaxes. Kirishima brings you forward, a hand on your back. Ground Zero's narrowed eyes drift to you.

''Thanks, Bakugou!'' Kirishima says with a toothy smile.

''Tch. Whatever. Who's this?'' his tone is brash and rough, but you can tell he's good friends with Kirishima.

''Oh! This is Y/N, a friend of mine,'' your cheeks feel warm.

Bakugou grunts and gives you a nod of acknowledgment which you return with a small nervous smile.

''I'm going to walk Y/N home, Bakugou, so I'll head out early today. See you,''

The blonde grunts in response and retreats into the club. Once he's gone, the environment is oddly silent. The faint echo of the music inside the club makes the walls vibrate. You swallow nervously and raise your gaze to Kirishima, who's already watching you with a comforting smile.

''Thanks,'' you murmur. And then you realize how everything must've looked like- the moment he canceled out on your date, you left to leech onto another guy. God, you slightly cringe. This is not good.

''It's not a problem,'' Kirishima's voice is smooth and lighthearted, a big contrast to yours.

You sigh and pinch your nose. ''I'm sorry, Kirishima, I...'' you trail off. Kirishima clutched your right hand and squeezes it. He offers you an understanding smile.

''It's okay, Y/N. I don't want to imagine how you felt and I'm sorry for canceling. I was really busy that day.''

Your heart feels heavy at his words. He's so sweet and nice your heart feels like it's about to explode.

''I know Kirishima but, I shouldn't have gone on this date. My friend convinced me into going and the dude tried to drug me...'' you groan and force down the desire to cry. ''I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry. I'll understand if you don't want to see me again...''

Wiping your eyes harshly, you lower your gaze to Kirishima's fancy shoes and sniffle.

''Hey, hey,'' he grabs your chin gently and presses a hand on your shoulder.

''Don't feel bad, sweetheart. It's not your fault. I'm not mad, you don't owe me anything, okay?'' he murmurs the last few words, brushing his finger on your chin.

''Th-thank you.'' without hesitation, you lean forward and wrap your arms around his back.

''You were free to reject me or decide to move on. I won't judge you, because it's your decision and not mine. Okay?''

His bright red eyes are staring directly into yours. Your entire body feels body and you sniffle.

Your hug takes him by surprise- he tenses before relaxing and wrapping his arms around you. He's so tall you can barely reach his collarbone. You sniffle and bury your face in his chest.

''I'm sorry for crying... I've just had a long day.'' Your words are muffled but Kirishima understands them perfectly.

''It's okay,'' he rubs his hand in circles on your back. ''You have nothing to apologize for.''

The two of you stand there for a few minutes until you gain back your composure. His arms are warm and strong, you feel at home in his hold.

Sniffling, you pull back and rub at your eyes. ''Thanks for watching out for me, Kirishima. I don't know how I can ever repay you.'' you bow politely.

Kirishima chuckles. He smiles crookedly and crosses his arms over his chest.

''Of course.''

''Well...you could repay me with a date.''

Your face warms up and you smile.

Kirishima's grin widens and he steps forward. You giggle at his actions.

''I'll be looking forward to our date. But for the moment, I think I'll walk you home. Is that okay with you?''

''So...'' you fiddle with your keys. ''Thanks for everything, Kirishima.''

You nod and smile brightly. Kirishima smiles and the two of you begin to walk towards his car.

The two of you exchange a comfortable conversation during the car ride and before you know it, Kirishima and you are standing at your doorstep.

He smiles in response. ''Call me Eijirou.''

Your eyes widen but you nod in response. Before you can lose the little amount of courage you've gathered, you stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss on his cheek.

''Thank you for everything, Eijirou.''

His eyes widen and you giggle as you watch his face redden and his hand hovers over the spot you kissed him.

''No-no problem!" his voice is squeakier than usual but there's a bright grin on his face.

''I'll text you in the morning?'' he asks uncertainly. You nod and unlock your door, stepping inside your house.

''I'll be waiting for your message,'' you say with a teasing smile.

Kirishima smiles and nods. ''Good night, Y/N! Sleep well.''

You softly bid him goodbye and close the door behind you. With a smile, you lay on your sofa and press a hand over your beating heart.

The way Kirishima makes you feel is a powerful feeling- scary to an extent, but you're more than ready to explore this feeling with him.

a/n: as always lovelies, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! <3 have a good day!

50 notes · View notes

vintagevalentinex · 4 years

Text

Decode, VI

Here it is!! I hope you like it! As always, let me know! xoxo

Thank you to @immathrowabrickatyou and @rowdyhooliganism for letting me yell ideas at you. xx

Decode, VI by vintagevalentinexx Mycroft Holmes x Reader ~1440 words

What could this all mean? Who is ‘she’? I hope he doesn’t get to her…

You scrunched your face, averting your eyes from Mycroft’s, his face revealing absolutely nothing as you turned toward Lestrade.

“Just what is going on, Inspector?”

He sighed, closing his eyes, gathering his thoughts.

“It’s…well…a very delicate matter—“

“What the Inspector is trying to say is that they are currently trying to find a serial killer that continues to send them photographs of women that they have murdered. In all of the photographs all of the women have their eyeballs removed. Accompanying these photographs are the coded messages that seemingly only you can solve.”

Sherlock turned to you, stepping closer, nearly getting into your personal space.

“Tell me, Professor, is there anything that you aren’t telling us?”

Before you could even speak, Mycroft was already doing so.

“You cannot be serious, Sherlock. When would she even have the time to complete all of those murders? They would have had to happen at the very least before the first envelope was sent, and (Y/N) has been here for hardly the weekend…”

“How steadfastly you defend her, Mycroft…”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, as you stared around the room, feeling everyone else stare back at you. They didn’t believe him right? You were certainly not a killer. You were relieved to see Lestrade making a sour face at Sherlock.

“Come off it, Sherlock. She’s nowhere even close to the profile you were telling us about.”

Sherlock smirked at you.

“Of course, how forgetful of me.”

You shook your head, the muscles in your jaw tensing.

“Well…I’ve certainly had enough asinine behavior for one evening. Inspector if anything new shows up, please let me know.”

You turned to leave, brushing past Sherlock. As you walked down the hallway you heard steps behind you.

“Might I give you a ride back to your hotel, (Y/N)? It is quite late…”

Nodding, you slow down, waiting for Mycroft to join you. “Does he really think I’m the killer, Mycroft?”

“Of course he doesn’t. He was being idiotic, trying to get a rise out of you. It’s how he amuses himself.”

It had been such a long day. You had no idea what time it was, but all you knew was that you need a full night’s sleep. You nodded wearily at Mycroft who led you back to his towncar.

“You know this isn’t all necessary. I’m pretty sure I can find my room by myself.”

He waved his hand. “(Y/N) it would be absolutely bad form if I didn’t make sure you got back here safely. And we can’t have anything happening to the clever language expert.”

You gave him a half smile, your hand on the knob. “Despite the aggravation of your brother, it was, dare I say, enjoyable being in your company tonight, Mycroft.”

His eyebrows raised, the slightest hint of mirth forming behind his eyes.

“I hope you sleep well, (Y/N). I shall be in touch.”

You were always marveled at how much a full night’s sleep could do for you. Despite all of the insanity of yesterday, you felt refreshed, more well-rested than you had in ages. You couldn’t remember the last time you had such a good night’s sleep. You were seriously starting to consider looking up the brand of the mattress. You lounged around in bed for a little while longer before deciding to check your phone. I mean, I’m on a ‘leave of absence’ anyway. I might as well enjoy it.

[No New Messages.]

You breathed a sigh of relief. It was the most beautiful thing you had seen in days. It usually didn’t bother you when people left messages on your phone, but the last thirty-six hours had been way too tiring. You were hoping to do some sight-seeing today while you awaited a text from Mycroft with details for dinner. Dinner with Mycroft. Was this a date now? Going to dinner with someone of the opposite sex was usually considered a typical date. Ugh. This is why you didn’t do all of this. It was too easy to misinterpret everything.

You jumped as you heard loud, short knocking at your door. Finding a plush, fluffy white robe in the bathroom, you slip it on, making your way to the door. As you look through the peephole you see a man, smartly dressed in a simple black suit. You spoke through the door, knowing that you couldn’t be too careful.

“Can I help you?”

“Good morning, Ma’am. I’ve been asked by Mr. Holmes to drive you where you’d wish for the day. I shall await you outside. Please do take your time.”

You bit your lip, watching him leave. You were about to text Mycroft when your phone came to life.

[1 New Text Message.]

[8:33 am] I do hope the car has arrived by now. Feel free to go wherever you wish. Consider this recompense for all the trouble you’ve been put through. –M

Well at least you knew that some random stranger wasn’t going to kidnap you. Pursing your lips, you quickly typed out a reply.

[8:37] That is very kind. Please let me know where to meet you later!

Quickly throwing your clothes on and making yourself up for the day, you make your way to the lobby, spying the man from earlier leaning on the car outside, waiting for you.

It had been such a wonderful morning and early afternoon. You were able to go see all the sights and be touristy, something that you were never granted the chance to do when you went on business trips. As you were walking around you wondered what you were going to wear tonight. You didn’t really have much as far as clothes went; you were only expecting to stay the weekend. Signaling to the driver, you have him take you to a small boutique you were eying previously in the day.

You browsed casually through the racks, taking your time until your hands lingered over an elegant looking navy cocktail dress. You held the dress up in front of you, smiling a bit as you made your way to the fitting room. The dress hit just above the knee and fit you in all the right places. You stepped out of the room to look in the tri-fold mirror to get a better look. One of the saleswomen fluttered around you, nearly gushing on how marvelous it looked on you and how you must absolutely buy it. You decided on the purchase, becoming flustered when the saleswoman insisted you wear it out. She must be working on commission. Damn. You smiled kindly to the driver that was waiting for you as you left the store, thanking him softly when he took your shopping bag to put into the trunk. He hurriedly walked back to your side, opening the door for you. As you shimmied into the back of the car you gasped, Mycroft sitting in the back seat.

“I assumed this would be much easier than explaining where to meet.”

You held your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beat finally slow down.

“You scared the living hell out of me! I wasn’t expecting to find someone in the back of the car.”

You could hear the amusement in his voice. “My apologies, (Y/N).”

Giving him a withering look, your eyebrows immediately shot up, lips slightly parted, recognition washing over you.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why the saleswoman was so insistent on me wearing this out of the store, would you?”

His facial features revealed nothing, but the jollity remained in his eyes, his voice not even betraying him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. To blame such an absurd idea on me is simply not becoming, (Y/N).”

You laughed openly, shaking your head as he let the driver know where to go, allowing yourself to be comfortable on the lush leather seats.

“Admittedly I’m quite pleased that you agreed to see me again…”

You shifted yourself, meeting his gaze, seemingly always assessing the situation at hand.

“You’ve proven to be much better company than I first ascertained, Mycroft. I certainly hope you don’t disappoint.”

He nearly smiled, more facial expression you’d seen from him…well…ever. It was almost predatory, challenging, and it was in that moment that you realized that this was probably a smile that he’d given to other people before, probably when he was being challenged. You wondered how many people had fallen to their demise after he had smiled at them like that.

“I never do.”

Oh my.

Next Part!

#sherlock #mycroft #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes/reader #slow burn #reader insert #mycroft is bae

36 notes · View notes

jos-corner-of-the-world · 4 years

Text

Last House on the Left - 33

{Thirty Two}{Master List}

"Tell me everything." Mei said the second you had the door closed upon returning home.

"Did you wait up for me?" You asked.

"Of course. You went out with someone you barely know. I was worried. Now that I see you're safe and unharmed, I need the details."

You laughed as you set your purse down before going to sit with Mei on the couch.

"It was...fun. But horribly awkward. The awkwardness never really went away. We had good conversation, but it was almost stifled at times. I felt like I was walking on eggshells. I was constantly watching what I said and tried not to be...too violently myself."

"Oh honey. That's not right. Shownu knows quite a bit about you. You shouldn't have to hide yourself or monitor yourself for man. You're great as you are."

"I know. But...he's so soft spoken and kind. He likes quiet and alone time. I'm loud and obnoxious. I swear and have no verbal filter. We're total opposites and I couldn't get past that." You quietly admitted.

"So are you guys going out again?" Mei asked.

"Yes? I mean, we'll be seeing each other again. He said he had a great time and would love to 'hang out' again sometime. Honestly, if we're looking at it as just hanging out between friends, I feel better about it. He's gorgeous and so freaking nice, but I don't know that the awkwardness will ever go away."

"That's okay too dear. Don't push anything, just let it progress. Whether it leads to dating or the addition of another friend, it'll be good for you."

-----

The next week, Shownu picked you up at the house again. He came in, making small talk with Minghao for a while while you finished getting ready.

You came out of your room dressed down more than the first date.

Your hair was down and straight and you wore plain jeans with a sweater. You immediately felt more comfortable when you saw Shownu dressed much the same.

"I'm going to have some of the guys over tonight for some drinks and movies. Feel free to stay after you guys are done." Minghao invited Shownu.

"That'd be fun. Kihyun said he'd be over tonight too. Any particular time you want to be home?" Shownu asked you.

"No. Only plans I had today were with you so I'm game for whatever." You easily agreed.

"Jooheon's bringing pizza over about 8, so maybe we'll see ya guys for dinner."

"Thanks Ming, we'll let ya know."

-----

"So where are we heading today?" You asked Shownu after you guys had left the house.

"There's a new cafe open by the library, thought we'd check that out. They have different crafts and stuff to do too."

"That sounds awesome."

"You're pretty fly by the seat of your pants huh?" Shownu asked.

"Yeah, not much of a planner to be honest. Drives Minghao nuts. Only thing I planned since moving in there is the painting and even then I kind of winged it once I started." You laughed.

"What about you? Are you spontaneous or a planner?" You asked him.

"Oh, planner for sure. I like organization and I felt anxious without it."

You nodded your head at his words

"Did you plan to bring me here before hand?"

"I've been planning it for two weeks. I wanted to bring you here for our first date, but they don't serve dinner. Didn't think you'd want a lunch date."

You felt bad that he had changed his plans, thinking you'd be uncomfortable.

"Can I be honest for a minute?" You asked when he parked the car.

"Sure." He said, shutting off the ignition and turning towards you.

"I felt really awkward on our first date." You told him.

"I know. I could tell. But it didn't feel very gentlemanly to bring it up. Especially because I was too."

"I'm more comfortable this time though."

"Me too. It feels like there's less pressure this time." Shownu said, smiling widely at you.

"I just don't think dressing up for extravagant dinners are my thing. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way." You told him.

"You didn't. I just thought that's what was expected on first dates."

"Oh God, no. At least, not for me. I'm more of a 'stay home and hang out together' kind of person. I like dressing up and going out on occasion, but it felt weird last time. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Let's go in and have some lunch. Just...hang out."

-----

Lunch was better than you expected.

You tried a few different kinds of coffee and horribly painted some figurines.

Shownu had told you all about his life up until now, smiling happily when he talked about Wonho and Kihyun.

You'd filled him in briefly in your life up until Jisung, and then went more into detail about your most recent past. You hadn't intended on it being that way, but you still weren't comfortable talking too much of the past.

You told him all about the boys shenanigans and how you'd met Kihyun. All stuff neither of you had discussed on the first date out of awkwardness.

You were happy to find that talking to Shownu was easier than you thought, and more enjoyable.

"You sure you want to come in?" You asked, giving him an out if he wanted it.

"Sure. I'd like to hang out with your friends more. Plus, my friends are here too, so it'll be fun."

You smiled at him as you both exited the car.

You walked in to see the house was pretty packed.

Minghao, Jooheon and Jihoon sat on the big couch while Seungcheol and Wonwoo sat in the chairs. Seungkwan had been relegated to the floor. Again. This time kihyun and wonho sat with him.

"Hey dimples." You said, poking Jooheon's cheek as you walked by.

"Hey babes. How was the date?" He asked.

"I had a lot of fun. What about you Shownu?" You asked.

"It was fun. She's horrible at painting though." Shownu laughed.

Jooheon turned towards him quickly, not realizing he'd come in too.

"Oh shit. Hey man. Sorry, I don't mean anything when I call her babes. It's just a nickname." He defended quickly.

"Why do you have to explain her nickname to me?" Shownu asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"Just didn't want you getting the wrong idea. We're just comfortable around each other." Jooheon told him.

"Okay." Shownu said, still not understanding.

"He's letting you know they're not sleeping together." Kihyun helpfully added.

"Oh, I didn't think that at all. Neither of you has to explain your friendship to me. That's your business, I have no reason to question it."

"Right. Well, this is sufficiently awkward. Thanks kihyun." You said.

"I'm going to go change, I'll be out in a few minutes."

You made sure to slap Kihyun roughly on the back of the head when you passed him.

{Thirty Four}

#scenario #imagine #seventeen #svt #monsta x #fic #au #Minghao #shownu #last house #lhotl #33 #jos corner of the world

33 notes · View notes

messykingofcamp · 3 years

Note

Numbers 30-40 for the 4:02 a.m. meme!

30.) Are your choices fated or of your own free will?

pHEW, what a question. I honestly can’t decide. I think that I’m one of those people who have free will but just choose to ignore it at the end of the day. That is because I do not trust my own free will. At least I could use “my choices are fated” as an excuse for eating too many cracker jacks and listening to Remains of the Day in my spare time, or using drive-ins as a fun little substitute for Tinder. (Don’t judge me here, every guy on Tinder always wants to go boating or mountain climbing. I am a student, I have a paper due Monday and need a quick dicking down, I do not want to go to a pancake house with you.)

31.) Do you have a hunch about how you’re doing to die?

Oh God, I have honestly no idea. I couldn’t tell you all on here because I am in the dark. Maybe some under-planned onstage stunt work if I make it onto Broadway? That sounds really impressive, which is why I don’t think it would happen. I’m honestly terrified of dying in a really embarrassing or underwhelming way, like falling and hitting my head on the washing machine. I just wouldn’t want anyone to find me because then they’d know I was a clown and got killed by a washing machine. I can see it now. One policeman would say: since he’s a clown, was the washing machine part of his act? The other one would say: No, he was just doing his laundry. Disappointment Vine would play in the background, my dad would hang his head, it would be very messy.

32.) Do you believe in star signs?

Ha, I don’t think so but I have to admit, they are pretty great with being able to sound exactly like you. I looked up what my star sign is, and it said “If you were born on August 8th, you are a Leo who’s good at arranging things.” That is super off, I can’t even arrange a threesome without someone getting sick or forgetting to get tested. Astrology girls are great though, I am here for their aesthetic.

33.) How old do you have to be to be considered an adult?

Why do I feel like this is one of those questions that tricks you into sounding like a pedophile? Adults are 18 and older, but according to my Grindr bio, I’ve been 18 for maybe 3 years.

34.) Was your childhood happy?

I would say that my childhood was happy enough. Sure I probably weighed more back then compared to what I do now and I was lonely enough to always be talking about Newsies on Wattpad, and there was that whole weird era where my dad would pretend like he didn’t know his son who talked about Newsies on Wattpad was gay. But hey, could be worse. Being gay in a small town is tough, and I was lucky enough to have an accepting enough family and some good friends.

35.) What are you missing from your life?

Well right now everyone is stuck inside their houses because of the coronavirus, so I am missing being outdoors. I love my time indoors as much as the next guy who has unlimited access to early 2000’s era reality show reruns and a good supply of warm milk, but I miss how things used to be. I still have to take Fangs to see a Broadway musical, and I haven’t had a Pop’s hot dog in months which I could really go for. And hey, I’d never actually show my face at B*** M***** again but I Veronica and I could have at least walked past it on our way to another store.

36.) Have you met someone who had a similar personality to your own? Did you get along?

Honestly, I can not say that I’ve ever met someone with a similar personality to me. I think that Veronica and I can sometimes have similar senses of humor and Fangs and I both have a crackhead type of social media presence, but even then, we’re still so different. I can’t say what I would think of someone who is similar to me. I don’t think I would know how to respond in that situation.

37.) Do opposites attract?

To be honest, I don’t think that being opposite or being similar has anything to do with attraction. I’m attracted to the man who pumps my gas, but I wouldn’t actually ever want to date him. It’s just a shallow thing. But relationship wise? Different ballpark. If you’re too different from someone, that can kill the vibe quickly. If you can never agree on anything then you probably shouldn’t be together. But hey, what do I know? I’m not super experienced here or anything, it’s just what I’ve observed.

38.) Is your life what you expected it would be four years ago?

Love life wise? Not at all. Four years ago I was still in that phase everyone has in middle school where they think they’re going to find the perfect guy and have this endgame relationship, so you never expect you’ll end up with the guy you joined a cult with. But honestly, what I have now is better because it’s the realest relationship I’ve been in. Back then, I also never thought I’d get the chance to put on so many productions at RHS and yet here I am. I know those productions always ended in tears and the Greendale drama department has an entire groupchat to call us cringe, but I still do have good memories of working on those musicals. I don’t regret doing Carrie or Heathers. They needed to happen for me to get to Hedwig, and then to get to college where I can hopefully put on a stage production without something insanely bad happening during it.

39.) Do you know what you want out of life?

I was going to go with a quick joke answer and just say “d*ck”, but my followers don’t want to hear about all of that. So I will try to answer this one seriously. If there’s one thing I really want to have in my life at this point, I would want to keep pushing boundaries in some way. For a gay theater kid who produced cringe content while he was in high school, I surprisingly did not do a lot of boundary pushing outside of my play productions. It’s not even something I knew I could do until I did Hedwig. Defending Hedwig wasn’t about the variety show. Every LGBT kid at RHS knows what it feels like to be pushed out of spaces because people feel uncomfortable. Sure it’s not outright homophobia, but it kept happening with Mr. Honey and we all knew it.

40.) What makes a person “good?” Are you a “good” person?

What makes a person good? I can’t say, but I like to think that I’ve been a good person. Certain people like Moose and the butcher from Lidl might say differently though.

#thank you for your contribution Betty #if anyone seriously reads this keep in mind that I am missing either a right or a brain cell #clown on computer

2 notes · View notes

boysenberrybrew · 4 years

Text

The Purpose of DADA (and a conflict in Professor!Harry AUs)

I’ve put some thought to the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum as part of a Professor!Harry AU, trying to figure out what exactly Harry would teach, had he taken the post after the war.

Hogwarts professors seemingly have a lot of leeway in what they teach, but even if they’re allowed to go wild in their day-to-day lessons, there are established learning objectives set by… some department in the Ministry, I’m sure. OWLs and NEWTs are a thing, after all, and there’s talk of a “Wizarding Examinations Authority” (HP&OotP, ch 31) and the Board of Governors that Lucius Malfoy was a part of. So there are some set of guidelines that teachers must be made aware of, even if we as readers aren’t.

What are these learning objectives? What topics are covered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL and NEWT? In Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, during their OWLs, we are told that Harry performs “counterjinxes and defensive spells” as well as the Patronus Charm for extra credit (chapter 31). In Snape’s Worst Memory (ch 28), the Marauders mention that question ten was “Give five signs that identify the werewolf.”

And from Professor “Moody”’s speech in Harry’s fourth year, we know:

“[…]according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I’m not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year.”

(HP&GoF, ch 14)

Sixth year, after OWLs, when anyone not interested in a career that makes use of a DADA NEWT would most likely drop the class. I think it’s important to note that the only time dueling was brought up within Hogwarts was as a club. Extracurricular. Also important to note is that, as presented in canon, counterjinxes/curses are not spells used primarily during combat. They’re not like ultra-specific shield spells, they don’t meet the curses mid-air and fizzle out. Counterspells are things like Finite Incantatem, they end the effects of a curse/jinx/spell after it has already hit.

I know that, Defense Against the Dark Arts often being shortened to Defense, it’s easy to assume that DADA classes at Hogwarts are supposed to be like self-defense classes in the real world, but there’s really not much supporting evidence for that (at least in the original seven books; I haven’t browsed all other official sources). They’re not teaching kids how to fight.

Harry, during his stint as a teacher in Dumbledore’s Army, most definitely taught kids what amounted to self-defense — and I think that would carry over in a Professor!Harry AU — but this is not what the Ministry had in mind for DADA.

At this point I had to ask myself... what exactly is DADA for? Officially, I mean, why does the Board of Governors want this subject to be taught, when the Ministry (or Minister Fudge, at the very least) didn’t want students “trained in combat”.

“Trained in combat?” repeated Harry incredulously. “What does he think we’re doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?”

“That’s exactly what he thinks you’re doing,” said Sirius[…]

(HP&OotP, ch 14)

I doubt this is a… new fear. Hogwarts is a strong institution all on its own, with access to what I’m pretty sure is the majority of Britain’s magical children, and is a literal fortress to boot. So if there is a legitimate fear on the Ministry’s part of something like an insurrection coming from Hogwarts... what is DADA supposed to be teaching, that isn’t combat?

The answer to that, I think, is: exactly what Lupin was teaching. And what Quirrell seemed to be teaching. What Lockhart attempted to teach. Even Umbridge, in a bit more subtle and much more bigoted way, was technically teaching this. Defense against dark creatures.

Not other wizards, creatures.

“I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school[…] but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,” [Umbridge] gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

(HP&OotP, ch 12)

Bigotry comes from somewhere. I’m not saying it’s logical, of course, but it does come from somewhere. It doesn’t just live isolated on particularly nasty individuals like Dolores Umbridge; no, it’s perpetuated by institutions. We see a lot bigotry against magical creatures in the wizarding world. Between the intense focus in History class on goblin rebellions, the fact that wizards with any creature ancestors are faced with constant prejudice, the centaurs being allowed “certain areas of land” (HP&OotP, ch 33), anti-werewolf legislation, and house elves (just… everything about house elves)… it is clear the wizarding world as a whole has a problem with magical creatures.

Nearly all of Harry’s DADA professors taught defense against some form of magical creatures. That we know of from the books: Quirrell gave some lessons on vampires and at the very least spoke about defeating a zombie. All of Lockhart’s books focused on a different creature (hags, werewolves, yetis, trolls, etc.), and he “taught” primarily from his books.

Professor Lupin’s syllabus, I think, is particularly interesting. Lupin had arguably the most incentive to follow Ministry guidelines, knowing very well there aren’t many jobs out there available for someone with lycanthropy and that his position as Hogwarts professor was already hanging from a very conditional thread. And as we know, Lupin concentrated wholly on dark creatures — the spells he taught, like Ridikkulus, were specifically to repel dark creatures.

While Umbridge only ever assigned reading — and Harry doesn’t pay much attention to the apparently very boring textbook, so we don’t know whether it said anything about magical creatures — she was outspoken about her prejudice to anyone magical that wasn’t fully and only witch or wizard.

Even Snape, though he focused on nonverbal spells in that first lesson and then seemed to focus on the Unforgivable Curses, had something to teach on the subject of dark creatures.

“Before we start, I want your dementor essays[…] Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost.”

(HP&HBP, ch 21)

“Moody”, then, is the only one who taught solely how to defend yourself against a wizard. It’s unclear whether it was fake-Moody’s idea to teach students about the Unforgivable Curses or whether Dumbledore explicitly asked him to, but we know “Moody” did it with the Headmaster’s permission and against the Ministry’s wishes.

Harry would definitely teach kids how to fight and defend themselves against other wizards. If we’re talking post-war AUs in which Harry’s the DADA professor, I can see him easily facing some backlash from either the Ministry (or concerned parents, even) for a syllabus that concentrates on dueling, as I think is a pretty prevalent headcanon in these types of AUs -- drawing from his stint as a teacher in Dumbledore’s Army, I’m sure. And I agree! He totally would.

But while the respect and admiration that the wizarding world would give him immediately after defeating Voldemort would afford him a lot of leeway, I think it would easily turn against him as time passed. At least among the Ministry of Magic higher-ups. Just like it happened with Dumbledore -- who wasn’t actively and personally teaching students how to fight, but was accused of training an army anyway.

How easy would it be to suspect a powerful wizard who chooses a career in education over politics -- teaching dueling, of all things -- of trying to raise an army? The Ministry was full of Death Eaters when Harry opposed it and the Minister was a puppet to Voldemort, true. But Harry was Undesireable No. 1, and he did manage to topple that regime once already.

What need is there to teach students how to defend themselves against other wizards when the Dark Lord has already been defeated, after all?

tl;dr: DADA class is primarily supposed to teach defense against magical creatures, and if Harry taught primarily dueling as DADA professor, he would come under fire for suspicion of raising an army.

59 notes · View notes

mageicalwishes · 4 years

Text

A Smashing Summer - Chapter 3

Read on AO3: here

Read the previous chapter (On Tumblr): here

Summary: “I’m egging your house for a dare, but you’re parent is a cop and now they’re yelling at me, so I told them you were my ex and you wronged me, and now you’re coming outside, so please just go along with this, I really don’t want to go to jail” AU When Simon Snow agreed to egg some posho’s house, he never thought he’d find himself here - The only thing standing between himself and a criminal charge, the word of a handsome stranger.

Chapter: 3/?

Words: 1,694

Simon

I slide down against the sofa, pulling my phone out of my pocket, with a smile.

ME (19:57): Hey, hey, hey, Bazaroo!

ME (19:57): I’m super glad you liked the scones! They’re my absolute faveee

ME (19:57): I’ll bring enough to share next time :)

ME (19:58): How are you today?

To my delight, my phone buzzes with a response, almost immediately.

BP (19:58): If you ever call me that again, I will block your number. I’m not even joking.

BP (19:58): And, I’m pretty good, thanks. Yourself?

ME (19:59): Aw :( Imma just have to keep trying different names till I find one you like, then :p

ME (19:59): I’m great! Had a pretty good day today :)

ME (20:00): Sorry I didn’t message earlier btw - It’s been a busy day! Me and the lads went into town and played some footie, and then I had to do some dumb history essay (Idk who told my history teacher she could set homework in the holidays, but I wanna fight them!)

ME (20:00): I fucking despise the Tudors. I mean, why the fuck would I care about socio-economic policies from like a million years ago! Grrrr!

BP (20:01): No worries, Snow. I understand.

BP (20:01): That is unfortunate - But, you got lucky with the Tudors, to be honest. I’d rather that, than the bloody Industrial Revolution. That is mind-numbingly dull!

BP (20:02): But, I hate to break it to you - If you think the Tudor dynasty was a million years ago, then maybe you should reconsider your subject choice. You’ll definitely fail the A-level, if that’s your level of understanding.

ME (20:03): Aha trueee. Sucks to be you :p

ME (20:03): And stfu!! I know it wasn’t actually a million years ago, you tosser! I was BEING dramatic - You should've realised, you know ALL about that, Mr. Roll-your-eyes-every-two-fucking-seconds.

BP (20:04): I’m unconvinced.

Stupidly, I scoff aloud - Drawing Nathan’s attention away from the television and over to me. He stands, trudging over, and plopping down onto the sofa besides me.

I groan, frustrated.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing. Nothing … Just wondering who you’re texting,” he drawls, the mocking amusement clear in his tone. “Got yourself a new girlfriend, or something?”

“No! I’m just talking to Penny,” I defend, my voice rising suspiciously. Fuck. I’m such a crap liar.

“You know, I know you’re lying, right?”

“Obviously,” I drone. “Just … Butt out of it, though, yeah? Please.”

“Alright, alright” he laughs, throwing his hands up in a mock surrender. “I’ll leave you be. But, if you wanna keep your little buddy a secret - I’d advise against laughing at their messages in the bloody common room, you divvy.”

“Noted,” I sigh, turning towards the door. “Don’t tell Josh though, yeah?”

“Sure, Simon. If that’s what you want, your secret is safe with me.”

“Cheers, mate.” I smile. “You’re the best.”

“I know, I know. I’m amazing. Just go and text them, you mug!”

I do (Obviously). Quickly jogging upstairs, and locking myself in the bathroom - Where I’m safely hidden from prying eyes. Laying myself down in the bathtub, I hammer out a reply, sending it off Baz immediately.

ME (20:13): Whatever, dickhead!!

ME (20:13): Also soz I didn’t answer. Nathan was being nosy lol.

ME (20:13): Anyway … You been up to much today?

Baz

Just as I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I won’t be receiving a response, my phone buzzes loudly against my bedside table - My chest swelling pathetically, as I reach out and grab it.

Typing out a response, I find myself smiling - Unbridled joy melting away my impassive neutrality.

ME (20:14): No worries, Snow. It’s not as though I’m just sitting here, desperately awaiting your every response. I do have a life outside of you, you know.

That's not exactly true ... But, he doesn’t need to know that.

ME (20:14): And, no, not really. I’ve mostly just been reading. I did try to teach Mordelia how to play chess, though - Which was fairly disastrous.

SS (20:15): Lol! Sounds good :)

SS (20:15): Who is Mordelia, though?

SS (20:15): Is that your girlfriend?

I stare at my phone, blankly - Trying to formulate a response.

ME (20:17): Seriously?

Barely a second after I've send it, my phone starts buzzing furiously - Message after message, pouring in.

SS (20:17): What?

SS (20:17): That’s a perfectly valid question!

SS (20:17): You haven’t mentioned anyone called Mordelia, I swear to God!

SS (20:18): I’d remember, for sure.

SS (20:18): It’s not exactly a common name

ME (20:19): I know that, Snow. I was referring to the girlfriend question!

ME (20:19): I thought that we had already established that, a girlfriend isn’t exactly on the cards for me - Given the whole fake ex-boyfriend situation.

SS (20:20): Bi people exist, you moron!

SS (20:20): I’m Bi. Lol.

SS (20:20): I didn’t wanna assume you were only into guys … Or that you were even really into them at all.

SS (20:21): You totally could’ve been Bi!

SS (20:21): Or straight! The whole ex-boyfriend thing was a lie, remember? - You could’ve just been a straight bro, pretending to be into dudes, to help me out.

SS (20:22): It aint a dumb question, really. So … Don’t be annoying!!

Oh. Okay.

Newly nervous, I begin typing out my response - Ensuring that I sound perfectly unphased.

ME (20:22): Christ, Snow! You seriously have to stop sending so many texts in a row. My phone is going to have a meltdown, if you keep it up.

Hesitating slightly, I continue.

ME (20:23): But, you’re right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it to sound as though Gay and Straight were the only options. I could’ve been Bi … Or Straight, I suppose. But, to clarify - I’m definitely not. I’m gay.

ME (20:24): I guess that - Where I’ve known since I was eleven, and I stopped trying to hide it a while ago now, I sort of forget that it isn’t immediately apparent to everybody else. Everyone in my Family knows. Everyone at College, too. So, I just, sort of, forget that I can still be perceived as anything other than what I actually am.

SS (20:26): Hush you! I like multiple texts!! It’s easier to keep my track of my thoughts, like that. If I try to put it all in one text, I forget what I wanna say.

SS (20:26): And dw about it, it’s chill! I know you didn’t mean it like that, I was just teasing :)

SS (20:27): I get what you mean tho. Coming out was so scary … But now I sort of forget that not everybody knows. I just like to assume they do lol. It’s stopped being such a big thing, now that I can just, like, relax about it.

Unsure of how to respond, I type out a simple …

ME (20:28): Yeah.

SS (20:28): Yeah :)

SS (20:28): Seriously, tho. Who is Mordelia? You never actually answered me lol.

ME (20:29): She’s my little sister.

SS (20:30): Oh lol! That’s crazy! I didn’t think you had a sibling.

SS (20:30): You don’t give off doting big brother vibes.

SS (20:31): More like … Spoiled only child, ones. LOL! :D

SS (20:31): Is she your only sibling?

Unable to help myself, I chuckle, quietly.

ME (20:32): Very funny, Snow. But I never said I was doting! I may be their brother, but I still have standards.

ME (20:33): And, no (Unfortunately). I have three more - Two sisters, and a brother. They’re my step-siblings technically, though. And they’re quite a bit younger than me. So, I was an only child for quite a long time.

SS (20:33): Cool!

SS (20:34): Do they all have stupidly posh names, too?

SS (20:34): And, do you like having siblings?

SS (20:35): I always wanted a brother, when I was little!

ME (20:36): Yes. Unfortunately, my family are incapable of picking normal names.

ME (20:37): And, yes. Most of the time, anyway. It’s nice to always have somebody to talk to - Or to play with (Although, I think I would’ve appreciated that more, if the age-gap wasn’t quite so wide). But, they do drive me up the wall, sometimes! Mordelia has taken to drawing all over my revision notes, recently - I’m sure you can imagine how I felt about that!

SS (20:40): Aw, yeah. That sounds nice!

SS (20:40): LMAO! THAT’S HILARIOUS! I feel bad for her tho … I’d hate to have your wrath turned on me! You'd probs make me cry lol.

ME (20:41): Yes, well. Despite what you think - My wrath was, evidently, not strong enough! She’s still bloody doing it!

SS (20:43): Aha lol! I like her! She sounds as stubborn as you.

————————————————————————————

A soft rap on the door, disturbs me from my conversation with Snow.

“Baz, Honey? Are you in there?” Daphne calls, her voice sweet and cautious.

“Yeah? You can open the door. It’s fine - I’m decent.”

“Okay,” she hums, pushing the door open slightly, and peeping her head in. “I just wanted to let you know that I'm about to start plating up dinner.”

“Alright,” I smile. “Thank you. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Perfect. See you then,” she sings, turning and leaving the room.

Hastily, I rattle out a text to Snow.

ME (21:14): As much as I am enjoying this, I have to go now, Snow. Sorry.

SS (21:14): Aw :( How come?

ME (21:15): I’ve got to go and eat dinner.

SS (21:15): At nine ?!?

ME (21:16): Yes, Snow - At nine. I must compliment you on your time-telling abilities!

ME (21:16): My Father insists that we eat dinner together as a family, but he was working late tonight … So, nine P.M steak it is.

SS (21:17): Aw fuck! You have steak! I’m well jel :(((

SS (21:17): But, okay, no worries! Hope you enjoy your dinner.

SS (21:18): TTYL :D

ME (21:18): Will do! Talk to you later. Goodbye for now :)

#carry on #wayward son #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch

8 notes · View notes

writeanapocalae · 4 years

Text

Nano Last Updated 12/11/2012 Part 49

“What are they doing now?” Jace wanted to touch him, comfort him and make him smile again, but he didn’t. He didn’t like being that intimate with someone. Still, it was obvious that the NHPF was doing something that Raz wasn’t happy about.

“We got our team picked out. Fen’s volunteered.” He rolled his eyes.

“Fen?” Terrin interrupted, even angrier than Raz seemed to be. He looked more defeated and saddened than angry. “Uh, but he’s such a jerk! Seriously, I have never met anyone as weasely as him. He’s just…ugh! Slimy! Are you sure he’s on our team? Have you talked to Captain Weep about it?”

“No.” Raz was looking at his shoes, “There’s something worse than a guy who’s constantly attempting to get into your knickers. We’ve been assigned a Vamp.”

Silence. The siblings stared at him, slack jawed and wide eyed. He couldn’t be serious. There was no way they were forcing a Vamp on them.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Terrin was quiet and trying to force a smile, but all that came out was a strange little twitch to her lips.

“I wish I was, darling, but I talked to the captain about it and he was serious. He wants us to bring a Vamp and he says that if we don’t take the job he’ll give it to someone else. We aren’t catching any breaks and pretty soon we won’t be getting paychecks. I don’t think we truly have a choice in the matter.”

“And we can’t work without one?”

“He’s sent teams on this mission before and none of them have come back with a suspect. The forensics team says it’s an Incubus we’re hunting and there’s really no way to tell one of them if they aren’t wearing their mark. The Vamp would be the only way to spot him in the crowd.”

“It’s just…” Terrin started and then bit that thick lower lip of hers, not able to finish.

“Cruel.” Jace knew what she was going to say, he agreed with her on the subject.

Jace hated vampires, they were blood sucking creeps. They preyed upon the living, sure, some of them drank donated blood and some of them drank animal blood, but that was only temporary. Too many of them killed the innocent, drank people who couldn’t properly defend themselves. They saw people as tools and things to use, not as living, breathing creatures. Jace didn’t like feeling hunted. He didn’t like feeling like an animal, ready to be eaten.

What the NHPF did to some of those they caught though, he was still against that. He had to be. There was nothing he could compare it too, the way that they were treated. They had trials and would be sentenced to death or life imprisonment now, but in the old days, a long long time ago, they had the option of ‘putting them to work’.

It wasn’t work, it was slavery.

Vampires had to drink blood of some kind, had to keep themselves full to a certain amount. If they didn’t, well, there would be issues. They had scientists studying them, figuring out how they worked. They said vampirism was a sort of disease, making the cells divide too quickly, healing any wounds, making them sensitive to sunlight and strong smells, and keeping them looking young for a long time. But when cells divide they also mutate, especially in their minds. If they didn’t drink blood, remind their cells what they were supposed to look like and act like, they would lose their minds. They would turn into animals, attack things including the walls and themselves, be paranoid, and lose what little humanity they had.

That’s what the NHPF did. They locked them in a room and denied them blood, let them go feral and mad, then put them to work. He’d heard that some people did it to dogs, for dog fights, but even he thought it was cruel and unusual punishment for vampires.

It made them ravenous and that was a part of the nonhuman community even the NHPF stayed away from. Their senses were stronger, their hunger less controlled, and they were the perfect hunters.

All of these years later, they were still being used. They should have been released, having served their sentences, but they were no longer safe. They had not been brought back to a level where they could hide amongst humans, had not been rehabilitated. They were worse than ever before. They had been reformed, but into monsters. So they were kept in the dark and the buried under paperwork and sometimes, when a case was too hard, they used them.

They weren’t even called vampires by the NHPF anymore, they weren’t those creatures anymore. They were psychotic things. They called them Vamps instead, respecting what they once were but drawing a distinct line to show that they were no longer creatures to be trusted at an arm’s length. They would, instead, rot down in the depths beneath the station.

And now one was being placed on their team, well, not his team, Raz and Terrin’s. They all felt the same about it, that the Vamps should be killed off or fed until sane (if that would work) and then released. There was nothing that they could do about it though, they were just officers. The captain could raise a stink, but that wouldn’t do much and he never would. If they did anything it would be far too much paperwork.

“What are you going to do about it?” Jace asked.

“Nothing we can do.” Raz shrugged, “We take the job, we do it well, we try to ignore our own consciences.”

“And in the end we try to sleep at night.” Terrin added.

It was sick and wrong, but they were right. This was their job and, just like him, there was nothing else in the world that they could do. This was all they knew, all they wanted to know. They would do their job as best they could.

#my writing #old writing #nano 2019

3 notes · View notes

bethhxrmon · 5 years

Text

All I Ask of You Pt. 33

“There is something due any day, I will know right away soon as it shows”- “Something’s Coming” from West Side Story

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Kind of a filler and kind of a setup

Warnings: Fillery writing, probably not my best but go off ig

A/N: Hey!!!! So I went on kind of a long hiatus because of school and stuff. It lasted longer than I meant for it to, but I needed the time off. I hope you guys all understand! As always, the masterlist is in my bio!

“I can’t believe it took us a whole month to talk Mr. Iron Dad over here to let us get ice cream,” Harper said with a light smirk.

Tony sighed, “You better watch it, we can go back home still.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark! We’ve been doing nothing but working hard all this time, we need a break," Peter insisted as his eyes darted over to the pickup for ice cream.

Annie nodded eagerly, "I agree. Besides, the fluid is coming along great and my suit's nearly ready so I'm not wearing an over-glorified jumpsuit anymore."

"Hey! It was a good over-glorified jumpsuit that got you a long ways," Harper defended, waving her ice cream cone like a weapon.

Annie grinned, "Oh, I know. Just imagine how powerful I'll be with a decent suit... you know, I think that I could totally out-do Spider-Man if given half the chance."

"Yeah, right. In your dreams. I've been web-slinging around New York for way longer than you."

"And I've been a superhero for longer. Your point?" Annie asked, licking her ice cream.

Pepper shook her head slightly, "I'm just so proud of you guys. I never doubted any of you, but I always thought that it was insane you were all working so hard on something like this."

"It's because they're super cool heroes. Come on, they're basically Avengers!" Ned exclaimed.

Tony shushed them, "Could you guys keep your voices down? You know, it would be great to get you guys all hiding out across the country only for your identities to be revealed because you feel the need to yell out everything."

"Oh, calm down, we're only having fun. Besides, why isn't the Avengers dealing with this sort of thing? I mean, a big monster dude who probably wants people dead and can do so by mimicking powers seems like your kind of job. Just putting it out there," Annie claimed with a small shrug.

Tony sighed, "The Avengers are kind of complicated at the moment."

"You mean that you guys all broke up because of those Accords."

"That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant. I may just be some theater kid, but I'm not an idiot."

"Never said you were."

"Then admit it! You guys broke up because you couldn't agree over some pieces of paper that technically make what we're doing illegal. That's the real reason the Avengers aren't taking care of this. Because it's not a well-known enough threat for you guys to get the government on our side. This all has to be secret because it's so illegal," Annie responded, sighing.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Fine, it's illegal."

"I mean, let's be real here, legality isn't really morality," Harper pointed out.

Everyone looked at them, seeming a little surprised at Harper's input.

"What? I took a legal class for an elective one year. It was fun! I know how to get away with murder!"

Annie smirked, "That sounds more like you."

"And I wanted to see if I could change my parents' inheritance."

Ned tilted his head, "I thought you said that you didn't want any of their money."

"I don't! Trust me, it's not worth it. But it might be worth my other family members getting some money. Just, I don't want it going to that damn lizard!"

Annie nodded, "Yeah, that's fair enough. That lizard's a really weird thing to invest money into anyways."

"If you called it a lizard to their faces, they'd only say that it was a priceless heirloom of sorts and that it isn't a real lizard."

Annie sighed a little bit, "I still think it's complete bull that people are allowed to do that with money in the first place."

"Oh I know! People like them shouldn't even be allowed to have money, but here we are I guess," Harper said, taking another lick of their chocolate ice cream.

Peter sighed, "You know, it's taking them a while to get that ice cream..."

"Well, some of us didn't order the freaking suicide sundae thing that they have here," Annie pointed out teasingly.

Ned pouted, "Hey! We're sharing it and it's gonna be freaking great. You're just jealous that you didn't think to join in on our ice cream escapade."

"Actually, I'm relieved. I just wanted my cotton candy ice cream and that's what I got," Annie claimed.

Peter shook his head, "I don't know how you can eat that. It's like diabetes in a cone!"

"Because a ten scoop sundae has way less sugar than a cone."

Peter huffed, "I have a killer metabolism. And I have Ned on my side. We're gonna kill it and you're probably not even gonna finish your ice cream."

"That's a total lie!"

"Bet!"

"Fine, what happens if I win?"

"Um... I don't know. But I know that if I win, you have to kiss me?" Peter offered.

"Okay... now you're making me start to root for you," Annie replied with a wink.

Harper scoffed, "You two are so disgusting with your PDA and constant flirting! I think we should just let those two go out on a date on their own already. Just so I don't have to deal with this."

"Agreed, it's even worse than when they first started liking each other. It's so cute i think I could throw up from it," Ned said.

The teens ended up laughing, and that was when they saw the large sundae Peter and Ned were going to try to eat. It was several scoops and those scoops were enormous in and of themselves. They all looked at the ice cream with wide eyes.

"Well, I was rooting for you. Until I saw you guys got the Godzilla of sundaes. Good luck," Annie said, eyeing the ice cream.

Ned grinned, "Come on, Peter, we've totally got this! We'll show them for sure."

"Yeah, maybe you won't get a kiss if I win," Peter remarked.

"Oh, you're being full of it, Spidey!"

Tony shushed them again, "Remember what I said about not revealing identities?"

"Come on, Mr. Stark, no one's listening. You're just being paranoid about it. We're gonna be fine. Everyone's thinking Spider-Man's just on some sort of summer holiday or something probably. But I doubt anyone thinks he's here," Peter assured.

Annie and Harper went back to talking about Seattle, which mostly entailed Harper complaining about their parents and how everything had been going downhill ever since Harper had insisted on going to NYU for college.

"It's like they don't even think fashion design's a real major!" Harper exclaimed.

Annie shrugged, "I mean, some people don't think musical theatre is a real major either."

“Well, be realistic, is it a real major?” Tony asked.

Annie blinked, “It is.”

“How is it useful?”

“The skills you get from acting and a good stage presence are actually really beneficial. Not all of us want to be lawyers and professors. Some of us wanna win Best Actress at the Tony Awards after getting a Bachelor’s from Julliard.”

Pepper grinned, “You know what? I think that’s a good plan. Do you enjoy acting?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of my thing. You know, everyone has something they’re super good at. Like Harper has fashion, Stark’s got the whole leading superheroes thing, you have being a phenomenal CEO down to an art, Ned is a freaking wiz at random trivia facts which is beautiful, Peter is a science genius, and I have my acting,” Annie explained.

Peter beamed, “You think I’m a genius?”

“Well, yeah… hey, don’t look too cocky or I’ll take it back,” she said with a huff.

After a lot of talking and eating ice cream, there was still a few scoops of ice cream leftover from the sundae. Not wanting to waste any perfectly good ice cream, they decided to get to-go cups. It left Harper and Tony questioning what in the world the others were thinking.

"Oh come on, you and I both know that you'll be grateful once it's midnight and you're starving and you can just binge eat some ice cream," Annie pointed out, nudging her friend.

Harper sighed, "Okay, fine, I'll take it, but I'm not sure how accurate that is."

"Okay, you're just not used to not having your parents and everyone else around. You'll understand later," she said.

Once they were back at the cabins, Tony pulled Annie to the side.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" Tony asked.

Annie shrugged, "Depends. What're we talking about and is it gonna actually be a minute?"

"I think it's pretty important. And it might take more than a minute," Tony admitted.

She sighed, "Okay, what is it?"

Annie leaned against an evergreen tree, looking at Tony. What in the world he was about to talk to her about seemed to be wearing on him for around an hour. He looked like he was ready to start pacing back and forth for the next day.

"Do you know who your biological parents are?"

"No... why?"

"Have you ever been curious about it?"

"Um I guess. I mean, wouldn't anyone be? My current parents all that great. I don't really expect any better from parents who let me be experimented on, but I guess I think about it now and then. But again, why?" Annie asked, frowning.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, "Okay, this might be a little bit much. And keep in mind I may be totally wrong about this. You see, I was in Brazil around sixteen or seventeen years before. I might have fooled around. At the time I was a lot more thoughtless than I am now. And-"

"You think you're my biological dad, don't you?"

Tony nodded, pursing his lips together.

Annie sighed, "Okay, this is definitely a lot to process. But you might not even be my real dad. It's, like, a one in a million shot, right? But... if I think about it, we have similar hair colors and eye colors. But dark brown is such a common color too! It's totally impossible. Come on, Stark, be real here."

"But it could also be very possible. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

"Okay, I've definitely thought about it before, but in all fairness I look at many adults that bear any kind of potential resemblance to me and look at them. And I can't help but wonder. You know better than to think that this would happen."

"But it's likely. And it's not totally beyond the realm of possibility, you do realize that, right?" Tony asked.

Annie bit her lip in thought, "So what you're saying is that you definitely want me to go and get a DNA test and try to find out which scumbag let me become some abandoned science experiment."

"It could be a good idea. You don't have to, but it might give both of us peace of mind."

"And what if you're actually my biological dad?"

"Well, I don't have any real rights towards you. Technically I never did since i didn't bother to track down the mom. But we would both know, and even if I can't take you in-"

"I wouldn't want any of your money, Stark. You better hope that you're not my biological father. There's no way you'd be able to make up for all the years I've spent wondering about where I come from. And more important than that, you can't make up for letting me become someone's science project," Annie insisted, crossing her arms.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, "I know, trust me, I know. My dad wasn't too great either, I know how it goes."

“Except you don’t. With all due respect, at this rate, I won’t have one good for nothing dad, but two.”

Tony paused for a moment and looked like he was about to say something, but his mouth stayed closed. That was when Annie fully realized what she said.

“Hey, wait, I um… I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, it’s okay, if that’s how things turn out, you’re kind of right.”

“No, it was uncalled for. You didn’t have any real way to know. And besides, it’s still up in the air. It’s both true and untrue… so I guess we could call it Schrodinger’s father?” Annie suggested.

“That’s not quite how it works,” Tony said with a slight laugh.

“Hey guys! I just realized something that’s super important! And we gotta get it sorted out asap!” Harper yelled, sprinting right up to them.

Annie frowned, “What is it?”

“Good news or bad news?”

“Bad news first,” Annie said.

“Right, so, a lot of my original concept art for the White Swan design is still in Seattle with my parents… so we really need to go back there, like, yesterday.”

“And the good news?” Tony prompted.

“Oh, yeah! I think the new suit’s done! You’ll love it, it’s a freaking masterpiece if I do say so myself.”

Annie nodded, “Well, if there’s any place that’s good for me to test it out, it’s Seattle. I’m feeling like we need a field trip.”

Taglist (ask if you wanna be added): @flushings-here / @gaypanda / @twilightparker / @parkerpuff / @ganseysblues / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @dolphinsarecuteandstuff / @lcy-thot / @moonstruckholland

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x oc #spider-man #spider-man x oc #spider-man x reader #mcu #mcu fanfic #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man: far from home #original character #fanfiction #all i ask of you fic

18 notes · View notes

orangeoctopi7 · 6 years

Text

Stanswap AU Part 34

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Part 31 Part 32 Part 33

Here it is, the last chapter! Special thanks to @digikate813 and @eregyrn-falls for consistently reading and reblogging, along with anyone else who ever reblogged this story, it’s because of you that this story has spread. Thanks to @blaiddraws and @hntrgurl13 for drawing fanart (even if I did commission hntrgurl13, still grateful) and of course thanks to @busket because even if our AUs were developed independently, I still took a lot of inspiration from them and their way awesome art.

Speaking of which, this chapter draws a lot of inspiration from these posts.

Chapter 34: Hero Complex

The house was still in one piece when the kids got back. There was no evidence whether the shield spell was still holding or not, but they were all just happy to find a familiar structure to hide out in. They were about to open the door when they all heard something inside. Dipper picked up a golf club that'd been sitting on the porch, Wendy pulled out her crossbow, Mabel readied her grappling hook, and Soos took a karate stance.

“Yaaaaah!” The four friends yelled as they kicked the door open.

“Yaaaaah!” A ragtag group of townsfolk and magical creatures from the woods led by Stan yelled, ready to defend their turf.

“Wait, Stan!?” Dipper and Mabel gasped when they realized who it was.

“Kids!?” Stan disengaged the weapons system in his prosthetic, “I can't believe it! I thought I'd lost you two!”

The three of them shared a happy reunion hug. Tears flowed more freely than at least two of them would care to admit. Wendy and Soos soon joined in the hug. Even if they didn't know Stan all that well, it was still nice to see a friend after everything that had happened.

“It's good to have you knuckleheads back.” Stan said as he finally broke away from the hug.

“Why… what's everyone doing here?” Dipper asked as he surveyed the room. There were Candy and Grenda, dressed like Mad Max cosplayers, and Pacifica, who was wearing a pillowcase or something, and the Multibear, who was wearing an eye-patch on his main head, along with some gnomes, a manotaur, and the boy band Sev’ral Timez.

“Welcome to the survivors’ club.” Stan shrugged.

“Whaaa?” The kids asked.

“Eyebat!!” A gnome cried before anyone could explain. Everyone in the house scrambled to put out all the lights and close all the shutters and curtains. Dipper and Mabel couldn't help but peek outside between some blinds. Sure enough, an eyebat was flapping around outside. The sweeping beam of its paralysing gaze was stopped by a shimmering pink shield the moment it looked towards the house.

“So the shield is still working!” Dipper observed.

“Grunkle Stan, how'd this happen?” Mabel asked once the eyebat passed.

“Well, after seein’ my brother turned to gold and thinkin’ Dipper here’d been eaten, I didn't know what else to do except come back here. That's when I ran into possum breath here” Stan jabbed a mechanical thumb towards McGucket, “leading a group of stragglers through the woods. They needed a place to stay, so I took 'em all in and made myself chief. Plan is to stay here and live off Ford's food storage long as we can. Then I vote we eat the gnomes.”

“Hey, I'm short, not deaf!!” Jeff protested.

“Grunkle Stan, we can't just hide out here, there's a town in need of saving!” Dipper protested.

“Look, kiddo, we’ve got a good deal here.” Stan explained. “It ain’t ideal, I know, but we’ve got everything we need in here. A lot of these guys may look like monsters, but they’re actually pretty nice. Bear-bear here even knows Shiatzu!”

“Yes, I’ve been taking some classes.” The multi-bear nodded.

“We can stay here where it’s safe as long as we need to.”

“Grunkle Stan, you don’t actually think if we wait it out long enough Bill will just go away!?” Mabel was scandalized.

“Yeah, what happened?” Dipper asked, “Before you were all about taking the fight to Bill and not waiting a second, and now you just wanna hole up inside as long as you can?”

“Look what trying to fight Bill got us!” Stan snapped, “I wasted my only shot, that shazbot took my know-it-all brother as a literal trophy, and until you kids showed up on the doorstep a moment ago, I thought you all were dead! At least in here we can live some sort of life, out there all that’s waiting for us is death or worse!”

“But… what about our families?” Soos asked quietly.

Stan didn’t have an answer for that. He just looked away, but as his eyes swept across the room, he saw almost everyone wore the same expression: worry for their loved ones. Not long before the kids had showed up, they’d picked up a broadcast on the TV from inside the Fearamid, where they saw most everyone in Gravity Falls frozen in stone and stacked into a throne for Bill.

“Guys, don’t you see?” Mabel encouraged them as she climbed to the top of the stairs where everyone could see her, “Our friends need us, but we can only save them if we fight back!”

“Mabel’s right!” Dipper joined her, “Bill wants us to run and hide. He wants us to think he’s invincible, but Ford told me before he was turned to gold he knows Bill’s secret weakness!”

“Yeah, and then his oh-so-special research Journals were destroyed.” Stan scoffed. “We got no leads kid. I spent twelve years tryin’ to fight against Bill, and never heard nothin’ about any ‘secret weakness’.”

“Then we’ll rescue him!” The boy exclaimed, “If Ford’s the only one who knows about Bill’s weakness then we’ll have to get it from him! If we all work together, we might be able to save Gravity Falls!”

Everyone cheered, except Stan, who still seemed skeptical. “And how d’you plan on doin’ that? This is the only place where we’re safe, and it’s not like we can carry the shield spell around with us.”

“W-whoa! Holey Hootenanny! Flapjacks an’ Tiddlywinks!” McGucket suddenly burst out, his knee bouncing up and down as he thumped his foot against the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” He said sheepishly as everyone stared at him. “Just got excited is all. But I got an idea hows about we can fight Bill an’ rescue Ford! But I’ll need all’a y’all’s help!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa people, let’s not forget who’s in charge here!” Stan snorted indignantly, “I’ve been on the run from that psycho for the better part of twelve years, and now you want me to just waltz up to the guy’s front door?”

“Grunkle Stan, I’m sure we’re not gonna just walk up to the Fearamid,” Mabel assured him, “Just hear McGucket out!”

“No! There’s no way I’m leaving this house!”

Stan was not particularly happy to hear the plan involved literally taking the house to Bill. Sure, it seemed like a good idea on paper. If the only thing protecting them from Bill was attached to the house, it made sense to bring the house with them. But turning the place into a giant fighting robot!? That was just ridiculous! Nevermind the dimension he’d visited with actual fifty-foot fighting treehouse robots. He was pretty sure that was a spectator sport, and not for actual combat. Certainly not for fighting against the all-powerful ruler of the nightmare realm.

Still, as they began cutting holes in the walls and using leftover parts from the portal to build actual working giant robot arms and legs, Stan began to think this might actually work. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

He’d nearly lost it when people started leaving the safety of the shield spell to try and raid more stuff they needed from outside, but so far everyone who had left for the junkyard and the amber mines had come back safely.

Now the “Shacktron”, as Soos had dubbed it after a comment on the house’s state by Pacifica, was nearly complete, and everyone was enjoying a bonfire as Mabel passed out sweaters, celebrating all they’d already accomplished and what they hoped to accomplish tomorrow.

“Uhg, I go through all this trouble to keep these survivors safe, and they’re gonna risk it all; for what? The chance that Stanford might know Bill’s weakness?” Stan complained to the only person who would listen to him, an ugly gnome who didn’t say much. “It’s a load of… of…” Stan searched his considerable vocabulary of alien swears for an appropriate phrase.

“Shmebulock!” The gnome exclaimed.

“Yeah! It’s a load of Shmebulock!” the old con man agreed. But his rage quickly died into a sigh. “It’s my own fault though. We wouldn't have to go save my brother if I hadn’t talked him into confrontin’ Bill right away in the first place. ...Bill wouldn’t even be in our dimension if my brother hadn’t opened that portal for me….”

“Grunkle Stan, is something wrong?” Mabel asked as she and Dipper suddenly walked into his field of vision. Stan jumped. He was losing his touch in his old age, he hadn’t even noticed they were there.

“Wh-bu-pft-I’m not-- I’m fine!” He spluttered. “How long have you kids been standin’ there listenin’ to me mouth off?”

“We just saw you acting grumpier than usual and wanted to make sure everything’s ok.” Mabel shrugged.

“It’s this plan to save my stupid brother!” Stan harrumphed. “I’ve been working hard to keep everybody safe, and what thanks do I get? Nothin’! But maybe he knows somethin’ about stoppin’ Bill, and suddenly everybody’s ready to risk their lives to save him. No matter what I do, it’s always ‘Stan’s the screw-up, Ford’s the hero’.”

Dipper frowned. He’d heard what Stan was saying to Shmebulock before. “Grunkle Stan, you’re not a screw up. This isn’t your fault any more than it is Mabel’s. Bill tricked you, because that’s what he does! Of course you wanted to come home! Of course you wanted to try anything to stop Bill as quickly as possible! And yeah, things went wrong, but that doesn’t mean you should hide away and beat yourself up for it! We have a chance to fix things now, and yeah, it’s risky, but at least there’s a chance that we’ll be able to save the world, instead of just accepting that this is the way things are now!”

“Yeah!” Mabel agreed, “Besides, you love risk!”

Stan gave a fond sigh and hugged the two of them. “Heh, alright, you kids’ve convinced me. I’ll get on board with Project: Long Odds. Whatever you want me to do, just ask.”

“Yes!” Mabel cheered, “Trust me, guys, tomorrow's gonna be great! We’ll save Grunkle Ford, and then you won’t have to worry about him anymore!”

“What, tch, I’m… I’m not worried about him!” Stan protested, crossing his arms and looking away. “I only care about finding a way to stop Bill, and that know-it-all is our best bet.”

Mabel and Dipper rolled their eyes. “Sure, Grunkle Stan.”

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the pain jolting through him. He couldn’t see anything beyond the burning blue light blinding him. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the ragged screaming that he no longer recognized as his own. He couldn’t smell anything beyond the crackling ozone. He couldn’t taste anything beyond the metallic tang that he didn’t have the presence of mind to realize was probably his own blood. This was his world. He knew nothing else.

Then, mercifully, it stopped, and his brain started ticking again. His thoughts and feelings slowly trickled back. He was Stanford Pines, the last one standing between Bill Cipher and destroying the rest of the universe outside of Gravity Falls. He couldn’t break. He couldn’t tell Bill what he wanted to know. He couldn’t let the demon into his mind. He could feel the manacles digging into his skin. He could see Bill and his cronies standing over him like a gang of school yard bullies. He could hear his own labored breathing and the snickering of the Henchmaniacs. He still couldn’t smell much other than ozone, but at least now he knew he was tasting his own blood. It wasn’t nearly as much as he’d expected.

“READY TO TALK NOW?” Bill asked in a bored tone.

“I-I won’t…” Ford rasped. “...I won’t… let you into my mind!”

“WHADDAYA SAY, PALS, ANOTHER 500 VOLTS?” Bill asked his audience. The Henchmaniacs laughed and cheered. Bill was winding up for another blast of electricity when they all heard a thumping noise coming from outside the Fearamid. It grew louder and louder, until… crash! A theropod head burst through the wall and roared.

“WHAT!? I JUST FIXED THAT DOOR!” Bill whined.

Ford squinted to see what was outside the Fearamid. His glasses were so dirtied with soot he wondered briefly if he might see better without them. Was that… was that his house!?

“It’s the Shacktron, dudes!” he more heard than saw Soos cheer. Oh no, what was Soos doing here!? Didn’t he realize the danger? And who else had he brought with him? Ford could only imagine what Bill would do if the triangle managed to nab all his loved ones at once.

“SO THE MORTALS ARE TRYING TO FIGHT BACK, HUH? ADORABLE!” Bill gave a cruel chuckle. “HENCHMANIACS, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO! TAKE ‘EM OUT!”

It was hard for Ford to see what was going on from his vantage point, but he couldn’t look away. The more he watched, the more anxious he became. He could see Wendy leaping onto an eyebat, he could hear Fiddleford’s distinctive voice calling out commands, and Mabel and Dipper’s cheer after punching out Paci-Fire and Kryptos. He even caught a glimpse of Stan through a window when the Shacktron came near enough to the hole in the Fearamid. But as things went on, his fear was mixed with pride. They were holding their own! Better than holding their own, they were winning! Soon enough all of Bill’s minions were sprawled across the ground, groaning in pain.

“SERIOUSLY GUYS? YOU HAD LIKE ONE JOB!” Bill groaned.

“Bravo, everyone!” Ford cheered defiantly.

Bill sneered at him. “YEAH, ENJOY YOUR LITTLE VICTORY NOW, WISE-GUY. YOU DO REALIZE I’M GONNA GO GRAB YOUR LITTLE FAMILY AND MAKE YOU WATCH ME TORTURE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM UNTIL YOU TELL ME HOW TO REVERSE THE WEIRDNESS MAGNETISM, RIGHT?”

Ford’s heart fell. “No, no you ca--” Bill re-froze him mid-sentence.

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU, SIXER? I CAN DO ANYTHING!”

He didn’t know how long it had been when he was unfrozen. All he knew was suddenly half the town was there, freed from their stony prison, and Bill was still outside fighting the Shacktron. Mabel and Dipper were standing in front of him with identical hopeful grins.

“Kids!” Ford knelt down and hugged them both tightly, “I knew you could do it! That was brilliant!” He caught sight of McGucket just off to the side, apparently trying not to interrupt a family moment. “Fiddleford! Thank you, old friend, I know they couldn't have done it without you.”

“Aw shucks, I'm jus’ glad yer ok.” McGucket smiled as the two old scientists hugged.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, bro.” Stan grunted from behind them.

“Grunkle Ford,” Dipper piped up, “before, you said something about one other possible way to beat Bill. What was it?”

“Yeah, what's Bill's secret weakness?” Mabel asked.

“Oh, right!” The old researcher remembered, and reached for something in his pocket. But be paused mid-motion, looking around the room. “Back when I first learned about Bill, there was a prophecy painted on the cave wall as well.” Ford observed all the people standing around him, and suddenly the puzzle that had eluded him for years finally clicked into place. “Robbie, do you still carry spray paint around with you?”

“Uh… yeah. Why?” the teen asked.

“You'll see.” Ford assured him, grabbing the paint canister and quickly spraying a large circle on the floor.

“Uh, Bill's just outside, I don't know how long the others can hold him off.” Dippy pointed out.

“Yes, yes, good.” Ford murmured in reply, concentrating too hard on whatever he was painting on the floor to really pay attention to what the boy was saying.

“Well, he's finally lost it.” Stan said flatly.

“Like he didn't lose it forever ago?” Wendy asked.

“I'm perfectly sane.” Ford corrected. “And this is how we'll beat him.” He gestured to the finished image: a circle of ten symbols surrounding a simple sketch of Bill Cipher.

“With the world's most confusing game of hopscotch?” Pacifica asked incredulously.

“No… although it would make a pretty fun game of hopscotch.” Ford admitted. “This is what I found painted on the cave wall. Some of the symbols I recognized then, some of them I only recognize now, but the very first people to settle in Gravity Falls, long before any European immigrants, prophesied that these symbols together could generate a force powerful enough to defeat Bill and reverse his weirdnesses. Until now, I thought it was just superstition, but now that I see the ten symbols here in real life, I know that can't be a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” Dipper asked, “You had this drawn in the Journals and it didn't do anything. Bill still destroyed them!”

Ford smiled and shook his head. “The symbols themselves aren't what's special. They represent people! Dipper: the pine tree. Mabel: the shooting star.”

Dipper's eyes widened as he stood on the corresponding symbol.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel gasped reverently as she took her place.

“A question mark! This one's unsolvable!” Soos observed, completely forgetting the coin block on the Mario shirt he was wearing.

“And I knew I'd seen that broken heart on your hoodie somewhere before!” Ford said to Robbie.

“Dang man, you've been wearing that thing since the fourth grade!” Wendy pushed her friend forward.

“Whoa, destiny hoodie!” The teen said in awe.

“As well as the star from the Tent-o-Telepathy.” Ford pointed to Gideon, who was standing at the back of the crowd.

“Oooh, don't mind if I do!” The boy took his spot next to Mabel.

“Don't make a big deal about this.” Mabel warned him.

“O-of course not!” Gideon flushed, then chanted under his breath, “Be a person worthy of loving, be a person worthy of loving…”

“And Pacifica: the llama.” Ford pointed to her.

“... This is freaky.” The spoiled girl muttered as she looked between the sweater Mabel had lent her and the symbol on the floor.

“Ok, so some of the symbols are really obvious. But what about the ice? Or the glasses?” Dipper asked.

“They're not all litteral.” Ford explained, “The ice should be someone who's cool under pressure.” The two of them looked over at Wendy. They couldn't think of anyone else in the crowd who fit the criteria, and come to think of it, hadn't Dipped spilt bag after bag of ice around Wendy all summer?

“And the glasses should be someone wise and scholarly.”

McGucket smiled sheepishly and stepped forward. “I dunno 'bout wise…”

“And Stanley, you're the fish.. thing. Whatever that thing on the end of your staff is.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Stan rolled his eyes. “You realize this is a buncha hogwash, right? You really think a bunch of randos standin’ in a circle an’ singin’ kumbaya is gonna stop that monster!?”

“It's a mystical human energy circuit!” Ford defended.

“You said you thought it was superstition until you saw all these people together!” Stan retorted. “This isn't what you were talkin’ about before, is it?”

“...No.” Ford admitted, “But that doesn't matter now, this will work!”

“How do you know? Just 'cuz some dead guys drew it on a wall!?”

“Come on Stan! I gave your idea with the quantum destabilizer a chance, the least you can do is give this a shot!” Ford yelled indignantly.

“Don't yell at me!” Stan yelled back.

“Come on!” Wendy groaned.

“Dang it, old men, now's not the time!” Gideon exclaimed.

“Alright, fine!” Stan relented and joined the circle. “I'm not the enemy here, people!”

“Everyone else get out of here, this may be dangerous…. Now all of you hold hands!” Ford commanded.

“Oh gee, I'd love to.” Stan said sarcastically, “Except there's the little problem of I haven't got one!”

Ford gritted his teeth. “You know what I meant! Just give me your arm… stump… whatever you call it.”

“I wouldn't have it if you hadn't abandoned me, you big jerk!” Stan turned on him.

“Really!? Now of all times you bring that up!? Why do you always have to make everything more difficult than it has to be!? Why can't you ever just do as you're told!?”

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do!?”

The elder twins’ argument just devolved into fistfighting from there. Everyone watched in slack-jawed horror. Everyone except Mabel and Dipper, that is, who were desperately trying to pull their Grunkle apart. But it was too late.

“OH NO, IT'S BILL! ...THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE ALL THINKING, RIGHT?”

Bill was back.

“HAHAHAHAH! THIS IS JUST TOO GOOD! DON'T YOU BRAINIACS KNOW THE ZODIAC DOESN'T WORK IF ALL OF YOU DON'T HOLD HANDS? THANKS FOR BRINGING EVERY THREAT TO MY POWER INTO ONE EASY-TO-DESTROY PLACE THOUGH!” the demonic triangle snapped his fingers and the painting on the ground burned away, catching a few people on fire in the process. He then reached out and grabbed the elder Pines twins. “YOU GUYS WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CAN'T GET ALONG?”

“Oh no!” Dipper cried.

“You give them back!” McGucket demanded.

“You've gone too far, Cipher!” Gideon shouted.

“Yeah, we're not scared of you!” Wendy growled, raising her ax threateningly.

“OH… BUT YOU SHOULD BE.” the triangle grew another arm and snapped his finger. Dipper and Mabel watched in horror as everyone around them floated up into the air and was turned into a tapestry, each one depicting its victim in the middle of a wide-eyed scream. “LOOKS LIKE IT'S TOO LATE FOR YOUR FRIENDS, STANFORD, BUT YOU CAN STILL SAVE YOUR FAMILY!” A glowing blue cage rose up out of the ground, trapping the kids. “LAST CHANCE: TELL ME HOW TO TAKE WEIRDMAGEDDON GLOBAL AND I'LL SPARE THE KIDS.”

“No, don't do it!” Dipper cried from inside the pyramidal cage.

“Yeah, Bill makes bad deals!” Mabel agreed.

Bill leered down at her. “DON'T YOU TOY WITH ME SHOOTING STAR! I SEE EVERYTH--”

Mabel grabbed Robbie's spray paint and sprayed him in his giant eye.

“AUGH! NOT AGAIN! WHY THE EYE!? EVERY TIME!”

“I know that hurts, because I've done it to myself!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper quickly pulled out the flashlight with the size-changing crystal attached to the top and grew the cage until they could squeeze between the bars.

“We'll distract him, you guys run for it!” The boy cried to his Grunkles.

“What!? That's a suicide mission!” Ford protested.

“Don't worry! We've beaten him once.” Dipper reassured them.

“And we'll do it again!” Mabel finished. “Hey, you pointy jerk, come and get us!”

Bill finally got the paint out of his eye. He growled and chased after the kids. Stan and Ford were about to run after them too, but a blue wall of contorted bars blocked their path.

“NOT SO FAST! YOU TWO STAY HERE. I'VE GOT SOME CHILDREN I NEED TO TURN INTO CORPSES.”

The brothers found themselves in a cage identical to the one the kids had just been in. Only they had no means of escape. All they could do was bang on the bars and yell after them to stop. But their pleas fell on deaf ears.

“I can't believe this!” Stan sunk to the ground. “The kids are gonna die, and it's all my fault! All because I wouldn't just link arms with you!”

“Don't blame yourself. I'm the one who made a deal with Bill on the first place.” Ford said sadly.

“Yeah, but I'm the one who got you captured.” Stan lamented, “Dipper went back an’ tried to help you, but I… I just ran. Ugh, dad was right about me, I'm a screw-up.”

“No.” Ford knelt down next to his brother. “That's not true. You never made a deal with Bill, not in all those years he tried to convince you. If anybody's a screw-up, it's me. If I didn't drive away everyone close to me, things would have been solved years ago. I'm sorry I always made you second priority.”

Stan barked a sound halfway between a chuckle and a sob. “How'd things get so messed up between us?”

“We used to be like Dipper and Mabel.” Ford smiled fondly. “The world's about to end, and they still work together.”

“They're working together because the world is ending. That and they're too young to know any better.” Stan observed.

Ford shifted and pulled a strange object out of his pocket. It took a second for Stan to recognize it as the memory eraser from his first day back home.

“What're you gonna do with that?” The old con man asked.

“This is the one last possibility to defeat Bill I was talking about before.” Ford said gravely.

Stan's face lit up as he began to realize his brother's plan. “You mean we could just erase him outta your head the second he goes in there!?”

“Yes… but there's more to it than that.”

Stan didn't like the look Ford was giving him. He looked like a doctor about to tell their patient they had cancer. “Ok, what's the catch?”

“Bill isn't a static memory. He won't just let himself be erased, he'll hide in some remote corner of the mindscape. Unless you were to erase everything.”

Stan's expression sobered immediately. That explained why Ford had been so desperate to try anything else to stop Bill.

“What!? Are you kidding me!? You're honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?”

“Believe me, if there was another way, I'd do it in a second. We're out of options, Stanley! The only alternative would be to actually give myself up to Bill and hope he'll let you and the kids go.”

Stan snorted. “Like he'd make good on that deal.”

“Exactly.” Ford agreed. “So, we agree on what needs to be done?”

Stan's reply was to wrap his arms around his brother and bury his face into his shoulder. “You and your snarfin hero complex! D’Arvit Ford, I don't wanna lose you again!”

“... Neither do I.” Ford returned the hug. “Don't think of it as losing me. I'll still be around. I'll still be me. I just won't…”

“Won't remember anything about me. Or anyone. Or anything.” Stan finished.

“Y-you might be able to remind me.” Ford encouraged him, “Fiddleford has been regaining his memories after they were erased.”

Stan sniffed inelegantly, failing to hide his crying, but he nodded.

They didn't have long to recompose themselves before they heard the kids’ screams, signalling Bill's return.

“ALRIGHT FORDSY, I'M BACK, AND I'VE GOT THE KIDS! MAYBE I'LL KILL ONE OF 'EM, JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT. EENY MEENY MINEY--”

“Stop!” Ford cried. “I'll tell you! Just let the kids and my brother go, please!”

“THAT'S MORE LIKE IT.” Bill said smugly.

The cage holding them dissolved away and a glowing red arm shot out of the ground, wrapping itself tight around Stan.

“No, Grunkle Ford, don't trust him!” Dipper pleaded.

“It's the only way.” Ford smiled sadly. “I-I love you all. Always remember that.”

“CUT THE SAP, SIXER. DO WE HAVE A DEAL OR NOT?”

Ford's only response was to extend his hand. Bill grabbed it, and blue flames enshrouded them both. Bill's physical form turned to stone as his mental projection jumped straight into the old scientist's head.

“FINALLY!” Bill crowed when he found himself in Stanford’s mindscape. The mental manifestation of the old man was standing there coldly. The light was reflecting off his glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes. Which didn't make sense because there wasn't actually any light. Which meant Ford was looking like that on purpose. The drama queen. “I TOLD YOU I'D FIND YOUR WEAKNESS!”

Ford did his best to ignore the mocking. He held up a book that looked just like one of the Journals. “Here it is, Bill, everything I know about weirdness magnetism.”

“AHAHAHAHAH, FINALLY!” Bill chortled, taking the book eagerly. “YES! NOW I CAN--” the book abruptly caught fire. “WHOAH- HEY!” The triangle could only watch as blue flames rapidly ate away every last page. “WHAT DID YOU--!?”

“It's gone.” Ford said evenly, a cruel grin spreading across his face. The light reflecting off his glasses disappeared, revealing a triumphant glare. “It's all gone!”

“YOU IDIOT, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE!?” Bill steamed, “I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!!”

“On the contrary, Bill,” The scientist said calmly as the entire mindscape around them went up in blue flames, “You're the one who's finally going to pay.”

Bill's eye grew wide as he realized the extent of what was happening.

“GRAH! THE DEAL’S OFF!” He growled, but as he tried to wave his arm and create an exit, nothing happened. If anything the flames rose higher. “WHAT THE-- NO! NO NO NO NO!

“YOU FOOL!” Bill raged, “”YOU'LL DESTROY YOUR OWN MIND TOO!”

“Gladly.” Ford said emphatically. “If it means you'll never do to another living thing what you did to me.”

“YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE, STANFORD!” Bill said desperately, “I-I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! MONEY, FAME, RICHES, INFINITE POWER, YOUR OWN GALAXY! JUST--PLEASE!”

“Whatever I want?” Ford echoed fiercely. “What I want is to watch you burn to nothing!” He finally lost his cool and roughly grabbed Bill by his stupid bowtie. “You pretended to be my friend, only to use me and manipulate me!” He wound up and punched the triangle. “You got me to drive my only true friend away!” Another punch. “You took control of my body and used it as a play thing!” And another. “You blackmailed me!” And again. “You tortured me!” Another. “And even worse than what you did to me, you messed with my family!” He wound up one more time and punched Bill right in the eye, harder than he'd ever punched anything before. The demonic triangle gave one last strangled cry in a language Ford didn't recognize, and shattered into a million pieces.

“...It is done.” Stanford said with finality. But… it didn't feel right. He'd been fantasizing about defeating Bill for years now, and he'd finally done it! He was the hero! He'd killed the demon, been able to beat him down with his own hands, and yet… this victory felt hollow. Was it because he was losing his own mind in the process? No… he'd always been prepared to sacrifice himself in order to pay for his mistakes.

As everything burned blue around him, the last thing he found left was a familiar tattered photo of two boys standing proudly atop a rotting shipwreck. Ford realized he didn't regret what he was losing, but what his family would be losing. And even more, what he never was for them.

“I'm sorry.” He murmured as the flames licked at his feet.

Stanley found his brother kneeling in a clearing in the woods not long after all of Bill's Weirdmageddon crap cleared up. Ford was still completely out of it. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth hung open.

“Grunkle Ford that was amazing!” Dipper exclaimed, running up and hugging him. Ford jumped at the contact, surprised and maybe even a little uncomfortable with the boy in his personal space.

“Uh, sorry, are you talking to me?” The old man asked in confusion.

The boy's face fell as he pieced together what happened. “You… you don't remember me…”

“No. Should I?”

“Yes!” Mabel cried, “We're your family!”

Ford just looked at them all blankly.

“It's ok, kids.” Stan tried to reassure them, “W-we just gotta remind him, y’know?” he sat down in front of his brother and looked him in the eye. “I-I’m Stanley. I'm your brother.”

Ford was too fascinated with Stan's arm to pay attention to his words. “Your arm, it's metal!” He observed with an eager smile, “that's not normal, is it? What's it made of? How do you get it to move like that?”

Stan’s eyes welled up with tears. “C-c’mon, Ford, it's m-me, it's Stan… I'm remindin’ you, j-just like you told me to… please Ford, it-it’s me, it's Stan!” He finally broke down crying in to his brother's shoulder. “Why d’you always gotta be the hero!? Y-you jerk! W-we never got t-to make thing right.…”

Ford looked at the two children for help. “What did I say?”

They brought Ford back to the wrecked remains of his house, picking up Soos and filling him in on what had happened on the way. The young mechanic was devastated, and he joined with the others in trying to jog Stanford’s memory. They had many opportunities to try. It seemed every step along the way Ford had another question.

“Did you see that little man in the red hat run into the bushes? What was that?”

“It’s a gnome.” Dipper explained patiently, although there was a pained undertone in his voice, “You used to study them.”

“Why do they wear those little red hats?” Ford wondered, “Are they hiding something under them?”

“I-I don’t know.” Dipper admitted, but it didn’t seem to bother Ford. If anything he seemed more excited, and he made to run off after the gnome.

“Wait! Don’t run off without us!” Mabel grabbed his hand.

This stopped him, but only because he’d suddenly become more interested in the small hands holding his own. He looked around at everyone and an expression spread across his face like he’d just found the greatest puzzle of all time.

“Wait a second, I just noticed something!” He held up Mabel’s hand and compared it to his own. “I’ve got more fingers than all of you! Isn’t that interesting? I wonder why it’s like that?”

“You were born that way.” Stan told him.

“Yes, but why?” Ford asked again. Nobody had an answer for him, which only served to make him more curious.

Stan heaved a heavy sigh. “C’mon Ford, we gotta get home. We’re all tired, you must be too.”

“I’m not tired!” The old man insisted like he was a four-year-old, “I wanna explore!”

Stan looked like he was on the verge of losing his composure again, so Mabel stepped in. “Grunkle Ford, if you come home with us, I’ll show you my scrapbook, and we can teach you everything we learned about all the weird things in Gravity Falls this summer.

“Really?” Ford asked, like she’d just promised to watch his favorite movie with him. She nodded. “Come on, let’s go!” He pulled her ahead toward the dilapidated house.

Dipper had to knock the door in, and despite the building being surprisingly still structurally sound, the place was trashed. Ford didn’t seem to notice; he took the state of the house as normal, and only seemed curious with the books and papers strewn across the floor. Everyone else was in low spirits. For all the questions they were answering and all their attempts to remind Ford of who he was, nothing seemed to be working.

“We saved the world, but what’s the point?” Dipper wondered forlornly, “Grunkle Ford’s not himself anymore.”

“I don’t get it.” Stan sat down and held his head in his hands, “Before, he said we’d be able to remind him…. Well, he said we might be able to remind him. Ugh, I should’ve known he was just sayin’ that to make me feel better. I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up!” He punched the wall with his mechanical arm and left a sizable hole.

“No!” Mabel said emphatically, “I know my Grunkle is still in there! We can’t give up, guys!” She found her scrapbook lying under the entertainment center, and sat Ford down next to her on the old couch. “This’ll work. This has to work!” She opened up to the first page and showed him a picture of the three of them at the bus-stop, not long after they’d arrived in Gravity Falls.

“Here’s a picture of the first day we came to Gravity Falls!” Mabel narrated, “and here’s a macaroni art interpretation of my emotions!” She pointed to a macaroni collage of an unsure smile and a question mark.

“What about that time we went to the lake our first weekend here?” Dipper asked as his sister turned the page again and revealed a two-page spread of photos from their picnic. “Or all those times we’ve played Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons together?” He asked on another page.

“Uh, these are all very nice photos, but weren’t you going to teach my what you learned about the weird things in Gravity Falls?” Ford asked innocently.

“They’re photos of you, Dr. Pines!” Soos cried.

“I can see that, but I don’t remember any of this, or any of you!”

That was enough to break Stan down again. The old con man got up abruptly and retreated to the other side of the room.

Ford got up and followed him. “What’s wrong? Why do you keep on crying like that?”

Stan just shook his head and turned away, unable to speak through his sobbing.

“Is it because of me?” Ford asked worriedly, “Is it my fault?”

Stan shook his head again, but Ford seemed to know instinctively that he was lying. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what for, but…” He trailed off and his expression became thoughtful. “I’m sorry…” he repeated softly. He reached out and hugged Stan awkwardly.

Waddles entered the room, drawn by the sound of crying. The pig found two sad men standing in the corner, hugging. On of them was the source of the crying. The pig tried to comfort them the only way he knew how: snorting in between their feet.

“Waddles, do you mind, we’re having a moment here!” Ford pushed the pig away gently with his foot.

Everyone gasped and stared at the old researcher, a new hopeful glint in their eyes.

“W-what? What did I say?” Ford asked nervously, uncomfortable with all the attention.

“It’s working!” Dipper said excitedly, “keep reading!”

“Skip to my page!” Soos insisted, “He needs to remember being the greatest teacher ever!”

“I think you and Wendy are the only two who would ever call me that.” Ford chuckled.

And so they continued to look through Mabel’s scrapbook. Every few pages, Ford remembered more and more about being a teacher, a great-uncle, a researcher, and even a brother. Once they finished with the scrapbook, Stanley swept the house and found some ancient film-reels: Home videos from the elder twins’ childhood. Everyone couldn’t believe their luck. Perhaps this story could have a happy ending after all.

It was one week later, and Stanford Pines felt like a new man. His memories were more-or-less all back now. Sure, he still had some hazy moments when someone would mention something like he was supposed to know what they were talking about, and he’d have to ask for clarification, but the most important things were all back. He knew his family and his best friend and his students and all the strange, wonderful, occasionally annoying people in Gravity Falls.

Of course, with the return of his good memories came the return of the bad. Just last night he’d had another nightmare about Weirdmageddon. But it was easier to shake off these bad dreams now that he knew Bill was well and truly gone. He’d also had a heart-to-heart with Stanley about some of the darker moments in their past, but he felt so much better now that they had.

Now it was time for the kids’ birthday party, and pretty much the whole town, human and supernatural, had shown up. Mabel and Dipper were giving some short speeches after blowing out the candles.

“Y’know, on my first day here, if you’d asked me what I wanted, I would have said ‘Adventure, mystery, true friends’, but looking out at all of you, I realize that every one of those wishes came true. I’m happy with what I have.”

“If I had one wish, it would be to shrink you all down with the shrink-ray and bring you all home with me in my pocket. But since that’s impossible--” She paused and looked up at Ford, “Is that impossible?”

He shrugged and made a so-so gesture. It was technically possible but really not a good idea. People would probably get squashed or suffocate.

“--Since that’s probably impossible, my only wish is for all of you to sign my scrapbook! I’ll never forget you all!” She paused again, pulled out the memory eraser, and smashed it under her foot. Ford couldn’t believe how relieved that made him feel. “Now I’ll never forget you all!”

As the kids joked around with Wendy and her friends about technically being teens now, Stan pulled Ford away from the crowd around a corner of the house.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you in private.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Ford asked in concern.

“Nothin’, just wanted to let you know I’ve made up my mind.”

“About what?”

“About leavin’ after the kids head home. I’m probably gonna start packin’ once this party business is over.”

“What!?” Ford cried incredulously,

“Yeah, see, this I why I wanted to talk to you about it in private.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“But… but I thought…” the old researcher stammered, “We’ve been making progress Stanley! I truly believed things between us were on the mend!” He sighed heavily and regained his composure, “But… if that’s what you feel is best, I won’t try and force you to stay.”

“Uh, thanks…” Stan said awkwardly.

“...where will you go?”

Stan shrugged. “Thinkin’ about gettin’ a ship, sailin’ in search of treasure.”

“Just… just like we always dreamed about. I… I’m happy for you, Stan.” Ford said, sounding the exact opposite of happy.

“Y’know…” Stan scratched the back of his head with his good arm and gestured with his mechanical one. “If I’m gonna hit the high seas, I’m gonna need someone who knows how to take care of this robot arm along for the ride. I’m still gettin’ the hang of it.”

“Y-you mean… you want me to come!?” Ford asked hopefully.

“No I mean McGucket.” Stan said flatly, rolling his eyes again. “Of course I want you to come, genius!”

Ford gaped at his brother for a moment before shoving him playfully, “You’re the worst!”

“I’m the worst!? You’re the worst for making me feel like a rakkpod for jokin’ with you! Why d’you gotta be so sincere?”

The two brothers re-entered the party, their arms around each other’s shoulder.

“If I could have everyone’s attention!” Ford shouted. “I’d like to officially announce my retirement!” He declared once the crowd had died down, “My brother and I have some catching up to do, so we’re leaving on a voyage, and probably won’t be back for quite some time.”

“Woohoo!” One of the teens cheered, “No physics class this year!”

“B-but what about the repair shop?” Soos stammered. “What about preparing young minds to be the scientists of tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry, Soos, but I only ever started teaching and running the repair shop so I would have a steady income while I was working on the portal. Now that Stan and I are together again… I don’t really have any reason to keep it up.”

Soos looked defeated.

“But school starts in two weeks and we’ll need a physics teacher!” A member of the school board complained.

Ford looked at Soos knowingly. “I think I know someone who could take my place.”

“Wh-me?” Soos asked incredulously. “I haven’t even got my degree yet!”

“You should be able to get an emergency teaching licensure.” Ford reasoned. “That’s how I got hired on full-time.”

“But-but you’ve got a doctorate.” Soos protested.

“Soos, you’re much better with people, and especially teens, than I ever was. And you know more than enough to teach high school. I think you’re the perfect man for the job.”

“We’ll see what the school district has to say about that.” The school board member called from the crowd.

A small group of friends and family gathered at the bus stop the next day in the early afternoon. Mabel and Dipper were all packed up and ready to go. Well, as ready as they’d ever be.

“Thanks for wearing my goodbye sweaters.” Mabel complimented her Grunkles. The elder twins were decked out in matching sweaters: Ford’s a deep blue, Stan’s maroon.

“Eh, it’s cold out, I had to.” Stan grunted.

“It’s over eighty degrees out here, Stanley.” Ford teased him. Stan responded by elbowing him playfully.

Dipper and Wendy said their goodbyes and switched hats just before the bus arrived, the ginger teen slipping him a letter as he walked away.

“Looks like we’ve said goodbye to everybody, except…” Mabel looked back at her pig sadly, “Waddles.” She got down on her knees and petted him sadly. “I don’t know how to explain this to you but… Mom and Dad won’t let be bring a pig home to California, so… you have to stay here!”

She got up to leave, but the pig playfully nipped at her skirt. The girl tried to push him away, tears streaming down her face.

Ford frowned. “Mabel, I think you should take him home with you.”

“But--”

“You’re parents will be surprised to find how easy a pet pig is to take care of. Pigs are actually very clean, certainly cleaner than that cat you have, and they don’t need that much space. I’m sure they’d be happy to have another pet! And if not, well, you can tell them it was my idea.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper asked warily, “Mom was pretty mad when she found out you’d offered to let us stay here without asking her first.”

“I’ll take my chances.” The old man assured them.

“Now hold on!” The bus driver protested, “Bringing unauthorized animals aboard a moving vehicle is strictly prohibited!”

Ford not so subtly pulled out his crossbow, and Stan charged up the blaster in his arm.

“Uh… but this, heh, is obviously a service animal, so it’s ok!” The driver chuckled nervously.

The kids gave one last goodbye hug to Stan, and then to Ford.

“I hope you know I’m not exaggerating when I say you two have changed my life.” The old researcher said fondly. “I… I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough…”

“We love you too, Grunkle Ford.” Mabel sniffed back a few tears.

Finally, they’d run out of ways to stall. It was time for the kids to get on that bus.

“Ready to head into the unknown?” Dipper asked.

“Nope.” Mabel said honestly. “Let’s do it anyway!”

Ford and the others ran along the road, waving goodbye until the bus rounded the corner and drove out of sight. The old researcher felt like a piece of his heart was leaving with them. It must have shown on his face, because just a second later, he felt Stan patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m gonna miss ‘em too.” the old con man said sincerely, “But hey, it’s not like we’re never gonna see ‘em again, right?”

Ford smiled. This pain in his heart was nothing compared to the joy of having his brother back. “You’re right.”

“Heh, somebody stop the presses.” Stan chuckled. “Now come on Sixer, we’ve got an adventure of our own to start!”

#Gravity Falls #Stanswap Au #Reverse Portal AU #Fanfiction #Take back the Falls #My Writing

85 notes · View notes