#edit hey guys its been two years and i finally fixed the fire ^_^ so shut up about it OKAY

[papanowo]

 i find it kinda silly that [almost] nobody acknowledges how boba shares a face with like a super legendary army

[otterbagel]

The Reunion (Part 1) Simon x Reader

Reader makes a rash decision, one that has long lasting consequences.

(Notes: There are two parts to this! Next part should be out next week. I'll probably start spacing out my posts after this so I don't get burnt out like last time. Also, didn't get to edit this one as much as I should've; the whole thing ended up pretty long and would take a long time everytime I tried to edit it. Can't believe it took me this long to finish one about Simon!!!)

"Hey, this is quite the unusual find, you gotta admit."

   Your eyebrow raised without hesitation, your eyes looking down to check your shoes. "Not really," you remarked softly, eyes going back up to meet the object of the discussion: a PL600 android.

   The salesman, who had uncomfortably started hounding you for the sale after you had curiously drifted towards the humanoid, was gesturing towards it flippantly with a toothy grin. "At this price?! Tell me, no, tell me where you found one this cheap— in this good a condition?"

   Your mouth automatically frowned. The arms were covered by a dark undershirt that made most of the skin unseeable— any damage not on the face and hands wouldn't be factored into the buying purchase. You had a feeling this clothing choice was intentional.

   "Just three hundred bucks!" The seller's round face turned into your line of sight. You quickly looked away out of discomfort.

   Your eyes landed onto the android's clear blue ones. You hadn't looked very closely at any androids before, despite walking amongst them nearly every day. Did they all look this lifelike? 

   Maybe you were looking way too into it. 

   You swallowed, aggressively fumbling for your wallet with a grunt of annoyance. "Okay, fine. Three hundred."

   With a pleased noise, the seller took off with your card, waving it in the air between two of his fingers. 

   You crossed your arms beside the android, who didn't seem to take any notice of what had just transpired. 

…

   Reality had begun to hit you like a truck on the way home.

   By the time you opened the door to your tiny house, you realized just how big of a rash decision you had just made.

   The android stood behind you quietly and without complaint as you released the door handle, letting the door softly bang against the wall. You stared dumbly into your own house, coat hanging limply from one of your dangling arms as you searched your brain for a solution. 

   You frowned, shaking your head rapidly. "I have no room for this."

   "Excuse me—"

   You jumped at the android's sudden intrusion into your own self reprimand, a small noise of fright escaping you before you could even begin to think of holding it back.

   "—would you like me to get started?"

   "Uh, yeah yeah yeah, uh… do whatever you want," you waved it off awkwardly, holding a hand to your chest as you attempted to catch your breath. You hurried inside, embarrassed of the whole situation. 

   You sat down on the couch as the android closed the door and walked past you and into the kitchen.

   Without turning it on, you stared at the TV as your fingertips rubbed against your face in nervousness.

   That had been such an impulse buy. You couldn't believe you had done that.

   The faucet turned on for a moment. You think you had put a cup in there, but there wasn't much else to clean.

   It seemed to be working properly. The guy who sold it was certainly odd and abrasive, but all in all it was a pretty good deal. Usually they were more than twice as much; newer models so expensive that the thought of you owning one was impossible. Even if it had some cosmetic damages, that was a small issue compared to its functionality.

   Trying to ignore the strange new entity in the house, you flipped on the TV. It was the news.

   There was some story about a recent fire that had decimated a small apartment building on the outskirts of Detroit. The police said it likely had something to do with Red Ice, although most evidence would probably be destroyed.

   The android had finished whatever it was doing in the kitchen and had quietly begun watching the TV from the archway. 

   You looked at it as it parted its lips in preparation to speak. "Are you a fan of the news?"

   "Sort of," you chuckled, looking back to the screen. "I work at a newstation— not this one, but I like checking it out from time to time."

   The android nodded, continuing to watch the screen as it held its hands politely behind its back.

   You looked it over, getting that feeling of nervousness again. "W-what's your name?" You blurted out quietly and without any grace.

   It blinked at you, the LED spinning blue for a second. "My previous owners named me Simon. Would you like to change my name?"

   You shook your head to yourself. "Do you like your name?"

   It squinted at you in confusion before returning to its natural, composed look. "It's good," it responded.

   Although you tried to maintain a jovial body language, you weren't doing a good job. "Great! Si… Simon is a great name," you chirped out awkwardly.

   "Thank you," Simon replied, giving a small head bow.

   You turned your head away from it as you felt your face grow warm with embarrassment. 

   What on Earth was happening to you?

   

…

   You had been having a strange dream about work when you heard someone calling your name.

   "...huh…?" you called out groggily.

   Your name again. "...I think you're going to be late for work at this rate…"

   Your eyes fluttered open. Simon was fiddling with his hands as he held them in front of his chest, eyes moving between you and the clock beside the bed.

   It said 8:32.

   The comforter was flung nearly off the bed as you jumped up in a panic. "Oh geez, yeah I'm gonna be late…" Random clothes filled your arms that you grabbed from your drawers as you prepared to go to work. "Thanks for waking me."

   Simon quietly made his way over to you as you tried finding a pair of socks. "I didn't hear you walking around this morning," he said with a chuckle. "And where you stayed up later than usual last night… I figured…"

   A laugh escaped you as you headed off towards the bathroom to get ready.

   He had been living here… maybe three months? It had seemed like a much longer time than that. In that amount of time, things had definitely changed between you two.

   Despite it being his intended purpose, it felt strange to have someone doing all your housework for you. It became an odd ritual pretty quickly: once you got home, you would work on chores together. Not that there were many— that was one of the perks of having a small house— but it just made you feel better about the whole thing.

   The whole process was a bit cathartic for you; away from the hustle and bustle of the busy, stressful life at the newstation and into a warm, domestic one.

   You hurried to the front door to slip on your shoes, Simon leaving his spot on the couch to see you off. 

   "I think I'll make it on time," you joked as you looked up at him. "Thanks again."

   "No problem…" he responded quietly, struggling to retain eye contact with you.

   As you rose to your feet, he gave you a brief hug. Your face immediately began to burn bright red.

   "Have… have a good day at work…" he stuttered out before walking in quick strides to the kitchen.

   You were still frozen in place by the time he exited your vision. "Y-you too…" you blurted out before fumbling out the door, realizing your linguistic blunder before you had even closed the door.

   As you headed down the street, you let your hands touch your heated face. 

…

   You had nearly run home out of excitement.

   It had been such a small thing, but the prospects of your future career had your mind going nuts.

   After fumbling to get the key in the door and tossing it open, you slung your coat off your arms in a fluid motion. "Simon! Simon! You won't believe it!"

   He was sitting on the couch— like he usually had been over the past year— engaged in some overly dramatic show you weren't particularly fond of. His eyes were wide at your sudden entrance. "Yes?"

   You let the door make its way closed before you kicked it shut behind you, holding your arms out. "They said they liked my article!"

   Simon stared for a moment before his LED flashed in excitement. "THE article?" He sat up on the edge of his seat, smiling at you as he was filled with a wave of positive energy.

   "Yeah!" You nodded. "Not to get you too excited, but they're showing it to some of the higher ups, but it looks like I might get my own schedule slot soon!"

   "Oh wow!" He exclaimed, rising to his feet and taking you into his arms to lift you up for a split second. "I knew it would happen! I'm so proud!"

   You erupted into a fit of giggles as he held you, almost enjoying his praise as much as your own success. "Thanks Simon, I couldn't have done it without you."

   He released you, letting his hands rest against your sides. "That's not true," he responded quietly, his face red as he looked to the side.

   With a warm smile, you nodded to him. "Yes," you drawed out for effect. "You even came up with the idea. And, not to mention, the moral support."

   He stepped back a little, crossing his arms as he attempted to hide his expression of happiness. "You're too kind."

   The TV played in the silence, Simon fiddling with the edge of one of his sleeves as he pulled it down.

   Your mind raced as you looked at his hand, debating on bringing it up right now when the mood was so light.

   "They mentioned… uh... increasing my pay," you began, watching his expression for any hint of distress. "I thought that maybe… we could finally… you know… get that fixed…"

   His hands trailed along his sleeve as he nodded to himself, seemingly lost in thought. "Yeah," he responded. "That would be nice… but it would be so expensive… are you sure?"

   It had taken a few weeks to first see it, and even longer for you to see the full extent of the damage, but your initial thoughts had been correct. The long sleeves had been put on him for a reason, and it had seemed as though it had gradually become a personal choice as well.

   His forearms and biceps had a lot of physical damage, certainly from his previous owners. 

   Luckily, it had been almost purely cosmetic. Aside from a few light dents and scratches to his actual body, it was just a matter of getting the covering fixed. As of now, the white sheen of his android body was always visible underneath his sleeves.

   You wrung your hands together out of nervousness. "I just know how you said that you wanted it fixed," you took in a sharp inhale. "It won't be a problem to actually do, I've already been saving for a while…"

   He smiled, rushing in to hug you again. You, a bit caught off guard this time, was frozen in place.

   "I'd like to put the past behind me," he said as you finally came to and hugged him back, albeit still in a bit of a shock. "I think this is the first step."

   As you embraced, you couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement and anxiety.

[not-playable-character]

Edit: new link https://archiveofourown.org/works/32099263

ITS DONE!!!!  Finally, the RE8 meets RE7 fic is finished and posted!  so for everyone wondering and if you didn't figure it out already. The image I posted earlier is the seating arrangement of the gang as they play the game.  As always its posted on AO3 and under the cut.  I hope you enjoy @ibest14 I never actually played RE7 but I watched a walkthrough to write this.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the Winters family got a very strange package.  It was addressed to the whole family and had no return address.

“What the heck is this?” Rose wondered aloud carrying the small package inside, “Hey mom! Did you order something online?”

“Not that I remember, why?” Mia asked curious why her daughter was asking about the mail, “Who is it addressed to? Maybe your dad ordered something.” She went and stood next to Rose to look at the package.

“Hmm, I think we should wait for dad to get home to open it, I mean it is addressed to all of us.” Mia agreed with her daughter and went to continue making dinner.

Ethan got home a few hours later and was greeted by his daughter with a warm hug, “Haha, hey there kid how was your day?” He asked returning the hug and picking Rose up.

“It was good! We got a weird package in the mail, mom and I decided to wait for you before opening it.” Rose said leading him into the kitchen after he put her down.

“Welcome home, Hon! How was work?” Mia asked kissing Ethan on the cheek.

“Ugh, Williams was an absolute pain again.  He somehow unplugged all of his equipment and disconnected his computer from the ethernet cable again.” Ethan complained sitting down at the dinner table next to Rose. “Chris somehow changed his computer to Arabic and Sal’s computer was changed to have wingdings as the default language and it bricked the whole thing, he said it was an accident, but I think it was one of the dicks that keep harassing him.  I told Chris and he’s looking into it.” Ethan picked up the package and looked at the outside.

“Ugh why can’t these douchebags see that Sal is way better than them.  Probably just jealous of him.” Rose said frustrated at the harassment her uncle was receiving.

“We should invite him over for dinner sometime, lift his spirits some!” Mia suggested placing a glass of juice down for Ethan.  He agreed and thanked her for the juice.

Ethan handed the package back to Rose who tore into the packaging.  Inside was a video game box, “Resident Evil? Isn’t that a game from the nineties?” Rose asked confused.

Ethan leaned over to get a better look, “Yeah it is, I played almost all of them, but I’ve never seen that one.  It looks like its supposed to be the seventh one, but they only made six that I know of.” Ethan became confused taking the box from Rose studying it, it strangely didn’t have a back cover.

“Weird, maybe they are rebooting the series, but why wouldn’t there be a lot of news about it?” Rose asked.  Ethan’s face lit up at the possibility of a reboot of his favorite childhood series.

“Man, I hope so, I always loved Craig Bluemarsh and Leo C. Harrison.  They were the best!  The whole M.O.O.N.S squad from Badger City.  Special Ops turned paranormal investigators was the twist of the decade! And the whole thing with Egbert Walberk and how he possessed himself with countless demons to become basically a god.” Ethan sighs as he reminisces.

“You clearly have bad taste honey because Julie Easter was the best character in the series.  The ace of the M.O.O.N.S squad, the one that Walberk kidnapped to force demons into her with a mind control amulet.  Oh, and don’t forget Chloe Bluemarsh, college kid turned aid worker for those affected by the demons.” Mia added as she chopped vegetables for dinner.

“Ahh yes, how could I forget! Anyway, this looks like a cheap bootleg or fake.  Probably just a prank from Dani or Angie.”  Ethan said tossing the case further on the table looking upset.

“Aw man…. That’s lame dad.” Rose says dramatically throwing herself over the back of the chair.  “I’m keeping it anyway; the box looks cool.”

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A month after the whole package incident, Rose bursts into the house beaming.  “Dad, Uncle Chris just told me that we are having a meeting with the whole gang! We should totally bring that janky game we got and show it off!”

“Whoa, slow down Rose! You’re gonna hurt yourself running around like that.” Ethan says watching his daughter bounce in place.  “Why do you think we should bring that thing anyway? I doubt there will be anytime to just sit around and play a game, if it’s even real.”  Rose rolls her eyes at him.

“Dad, I’m sure Uncle Chris can pull some strings so we can have a little get together.  We never get to see each other all at once!” Rose states, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, “Don’t you want to see the gang, Dad. It would be so much fun.  You know how much I miss them all.” She begs.

Ethan can physically feel his resolve crumbling at his begging daughter, always caving into her once she pulls out the puppy eyes, “Fine, I’ll talk with Chris and we can bring the game with us, but you are responsible for the PlayStation and if it gets damaged or broken you have to buy the new one.” He says in his dad voice, trying to be stern.  Rose squeals and jumps into his arms hugging him.

“You’re the best dad ever!” She says running off to prepare for their long weekend at Blue Umbrella.

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“Ok, is everyone comfy, I’m about to start the game!” Rose said excitedly setting up the PS4 in the Blue Umbrella lounge room.  Everyone was present, Rose even convinced Miranda and Elena to join them after Milena was put to bed.

“I am unsure of what we are even doing sweet thing.” Alcina said settling into her chair near Donna.

“Well, I’m gonna play this weird game I got, maybe Dani can take over if I get tired.  We are just gonna check it out, if its good, Great! If not, we can make fun of how bad it is!” Rose explained sitting down on the couch wedged between Daniela, Angie, and Heisenberg with Bela and Cassandra on the floor in front of them.  Alcina wasn’t convinced that it would be fun, but she couldn’t deny Rose’s request considering how excited she looked.  She sighed and pulled out her reading glasses seeing the small text on the screen.

“Psh, what are you a grandma?” Heisenberg teased. Alcina growled at him.

“Oh, please grow up you child.” She replied trying to de-escalate the situation knowing Rose and her daughters hated when they argued.

“I see making your head bigger didn’t help your eyesight.” He continued to tease sensing her anger.

“I grew proportionally you ignoramus, becoming larger would not fix my farsightedness.” She growled out becoming angrier.

“Guys….” Rose said sadly at the two arguing.  Heisenberg immediately stopped his next sentence and turned to give Rose a side hug.

“Sorry kiddo, I forgot you hate it when we fight.  I’ll stop, I promise.”  He says sincerely as Alcina nods looking guilty, Rose smiles accepting their apologies.

“No more sappiness get to the action I’m getting bored!” Angie cried out from Daniela’s lap.  Rose rolls her eyes at the doll’s bratty attitude and begins the game.

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The game begins with a very familiar video to Ethan and Mia and the sight of Mia recording her warning message on the ship.

“What the…. How is this happening?  It showed the recording from my eyes, but I never recorded that…” Mia says stunned.

The next scene starts with the sound of a phone ringing and the overhead video of a car driving down a highway.  Ethan begins to speak to and unknown man in the voice over explaining how he was contacted by Mia and that she wants him to come and get her.

“This has to be a sick prank!  How did these people get that phone call!” Ethan shouts getting more and more upset as the clip plays. Mia places a hand on his arm to comfort him.

“Maybe there will be an explanation later.  There has to be….” Mia says trying to calm Ethan.

Rose pauses the game as it shifts to Ethan’s perspective in the car, “We don’t have to keep playing if this is making you guys uncomfortable.” She says to her parents.

Ethan takes a deep breath, “No, no… it’s fine, you were really excited for this.  I was just shocked.  I’m okay to keep going, as long as you are okay too Mia.”  She nods in agreement with her husband clearly rattled but pushing through.  Rose nods continuing the game as she walks Ethan through the thick Louisiana swamp towards the Baker house.

The first obstacle they encounter is a locked gate.  She moves him down a path leading to a trashed car with camera equipment scattered around it.  Looking in they find a scrip proposal for Sewer Gators Ep. 17.

They then come across a broken gate with a sign that says, “Accept Her Gift”, “Oh yeah definitely just walk through that incredibly ominous gate into the disgusting swamp.” Heisenberg says gesturing towards the screen, “I’d just say, ‘sorry lady I’m not that desperate for a wife’ and dip.”

“He has a point dad, I mean really its been three years.  Just move on.” Rose says to her father.

Ethan blushes, “Hey you can’t judge a man in love.  I had to know what happened.”

“Nah man, just accept the death bro.  Totally not worth it.” Daniela says interjecting.

“I’m right her you know.” Mia says scolding them.  Rose giggles and continues on.  They come across the remains of a fire with Mia’s purse laying there.  They then enter the Guest house finding it to be disgusting and in disrepair.

“God, I forgot how gross this place was.” Ethan says wrinkling his nose.

Rose looks around the living room area, finding a hidden chain that opens a hidden room they go through. Exploring further leads them into a flooded basement they are forced to crawl through.

“Oh, please Ethan, I know you are insanely stubborn but the corpse in the flooded basement should have been an indicator to leave immediately.” Alcina says as the dead body floats up in front of them.

“Ok, Ok I get it I’m a crazy person for going on, but can we please stop commenting on it.  I’m aware of the insanity.” Ethan replies as Rose comes up into a basement room with a jail cell containing Mia as well as other information on people who were listed as turned or dead.  They pick up the bolt cutters and break open Mia’s cell.  While they are being reunited Mia acts strangely warning him of the dangers and of Daddy.

“Pft, seriously? Daddy?” Dani snickers at Mia.

“Don’t start.  I was possessed by a child obsessed with family.” Mia says glaring at Dani.

Rose follows Mia through the basement where she and Ethan stop to talk about the last three years.

“Come on! This is a life or death situation, get a move on!” Cassandra yells out at the screen.

Rose continues to creep through the basement following Mia as Ethan learning more about her capture as they walk.  They come across a living room type area where Mia starts to act strangely, talking about family and when Ethan leaves, they hear her crash through the wall revealing a staircase to the house.  They move through the house looking for Mia.  They hear crashing coming from the stairs they came from and return to find Mia on all fours crawling up the stairs.  She attacks Ethan looking monstrous as she throws him back up with superhuman strength. She then attacks him with a knife stabbing him through the hand.  After a struggle she regains control rambling about a strange her as she slams her head against the wall.

“Jesus man, that is hard core…” Heisenberg says in awe. Mia grimaces at the memory.  Rose continues on wandering before they are attacked by Mia once again.  They fight her off with an axe.  “Ethan, my friend, you always have to double check that your enemy is dead.  She is definitely gonna get up again, classic horror trope.” Heisenberg says wisely.

“Karl, this actually happened.  I wasn’t thinking about ‘horror tropes’.  I was focusing on surviving.” Ethan says to him.

“Also, of course I’m going to get up, I’m sitting right here.  I’m clearly not dead.” Mia says exasperated.

Rose moves on with the game ignoring them and answers the phone that had begun to ring.  “Dad why did you answer the phone? Just leave.” She says as Zoe gives her warning to Ethan.  “Oh yeah let’s listen to the random phone lady and not just break a window.” She says rolling her eyes.

They move on solving the puzzle for the stairs catching a glimpse of the not at all dead Mia.  Replacing the fuse, they are jumped by Mia again who attacks him with a screwdriver pinning him to the wall before chopping his had off with a chainsaw.

“My god man! How did you keep going!” Sal exclaims looking at Ethan who just shrugs.

They find a pistol in one of the rooms and use it to take care of the attacking Mia as she rants crazily. Finally taking her down, they are ambushed by Jack Baker who punches him in the face.

“See I told you that you should have moved faster, now ‘Daddy’ caught you.” Cass says as Ethan falls over and is stomped on by Jack.  They see him being dragged and Mia being carried by Jack, the scene changes to Ethan strapped to a chair with Zoe staples his hand back on.  He finally fully awakes to a disgusting family dinner with the whole Baker family.

“Ugh, I miss Momma’s cooking so much.” Mia says reminiscing happily.  Everyone stares at her as they see the disgusting meal on the table in game.  She blushes, “Before she went fully crazy, she was an amazing cook.  Her gumbo was to die for, oh and Daddy’s fried chicken, mmm.”  She explains to them.  No one seems convinced as the scene continues with Lucas throwing food at him and Marguerite tries to get Ethan to eat, and Jack cuts off Lucas’ hand. Jack comes over and forces the rancid food into Ethan’s face as Marguerite rants and leaves angrily, Jack then cuts Ethan’s face before being interrupted by the doorbell.  They escape and flee through the house trying to find an exit. They find a key and are chased by Jack before escaping to the crawlspace.

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They explore the house before a police officer tries to ask Ethan questions.

“Man, that officer is kind of a dick…” Heisenberg says realizing how rude and unprofessional the officer is.

“He was a massive dick.” Ethan says frustrated at the memory of their interactions.  They make the way to the garage to meet the rude officer who refuses to take the situation seriously which leads to his death and Ethan’s continued entrapment.  “See, massive dick, we could have escaped, but noooo.” He says.

Rose nods in agreement as she avoids Jack in the garage and tries to defeat him with the car.  The car crashes and catches fire revealing an on fire Jack who is knocked down by the resulting explosion.  They collect the items in the room before climbing up the revealed ladder. Jack stops Ethan and shoots himself in the head with Ethan’s gun.

“I’ll say it again, he ain’t dead.  He’s coming back sooner or later.” Heisenberg says again.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. This game’s been full of tropes so far.” Cassandra responds to him rolling her eyes.

Rose continues on solving puzzles and making their way through the labyrinthine house avoiding the obviously not dead Jack and the molded that are scattered around the house. They see Jack mumbling to himself about being “her” and talking about how he is going to kill Ethan.

“God he’s so cool.” Dani says as he leaves the room getting looks from the others, “What? He’s a cool villain.”

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The fight with Jack was a bit of a struggle for Rose, but she made it through with Heisenberg, Dani, and Cass cheering her on.

When he finally exploded, both Heisenberg and Dani called out in joy, “Now that’s how you kill a villain!” Heisenberg shouted out with a laugh and high fived Dani over Rose’s head. As they make their way through the house again completing puzzles and finding Grandma in random places.

“She is the one who caused all this.” Alcina says pointing at Grandma.  Ethan and Mia looks shocked.

“How did you know that?” Mia asks. Alcina scoffs as if it is obvious.

“She hasn’t had the focus at all, yet she appears at random seemingly following Ethan, who we know is the next victim in mind.  She is clearly Eveline.”  She says smugly to everyone’s shocked faces.

Rose moved on ignoring the gloating.  She came across a trailer in the yard, exploring it revealed that it was Zoe’s home containing some useful items that she ignored moving to leave as the phone rang. Zoe explained about the mold and how to progress.

“Why are you so trusting of this woman, you don’t know her, and she has admitted that she is a part of the family trying to kill you?” Bela asked turning to face Ethan.  He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, he paused thinking and shrugged.  Bela rolled her eyes at him, “Typical man thing.” She mumbled out returning to her original position.

They move on to the old house and Marguerite just as Zoe instructed. Coming across baby dolls strung up from the rafters of the bridge.  “Whoever made those should be killed.” Donna said quietly.  Everyone looked at her confused.  “The look like such poor quality dolls, anyone who cares would never let them fall apart so easily.  Cheap plastic is the worst fate a doll can experience.” She explains confident.

“You aren’t upset at the fact that they are strung up, just that they suck?” Rose asks her.

“Of course, you can do what you like with them, but the craft must be respected.  These cheap factory made ones are a disgrace.”  Donna explains upset at the virtual dolls.  Rose mumbles an ok before moving on into the bug infested old house.  They make their way through the house avoiding mutant bugs and solving puzzles.

“Gotta say girls, these things really remind me of you three.” Heisenberg says as Rose burns her way through the nests of bugs.

“How dare you compare my girls to these disgusting things!  They are clearly superior in every way.” Alcina says angrily defending her girls.

“Thank you, mother, but he has a bit of a point.” Bela says to her mother with Cassandra nodding in agreement.

“Momma has a point though too! We are better than those things!” Dani says beaming at her mother. Cass mumbles suck up under her breath and is smacked by Dani.

Soon after they find Mia in game again, she explains her amnesia and is taken away by Lucas.  Not being able to help they continue on through the house again.  Eventually they are found by Marguerite who begins to stalk them through the house attacking them with her swarm of insects, insane rants, and vulgar obscenities.

“This lady is something else…” Heisenberg says cringing at Marguerite.

“For once we agree on something Karl.” Alcina agrees cringing as well.  The others nod in agreement with them.

They make their way through a secret passageway revealed by the spider shadow puzzle.  The wall space was infested which had everyone cringing at the writhing masses of centipedes.  They collect the crank and the crow key and try to enter Marguerite’s room before she throws him down the stairs and through the floor.  After a short encounter, she falls into the hole and melts into black goo. They collect information on the D series pieces and Zoe calls again, and she mentions they only need the arm piece as she has the D series head.  They return to the hole to see the goo gone and a long spindly arm take the lantern needed to progress.  They follow the monstrosity to well in front of the old house returning to Zoe’s trailer. They return to a new section of the old house where they are attacked by a mutated spider like Marguerite.

They run around the house, avoiding her swarms and attacks while burning her with the flamethrower and peppering her with shotgun shots to the disgusting nest on her lower half.

“I take it back; you girls are way more similar to the bug lady.” Heisenberg says once she finally dies. Alcina slaps the back of his head and growls at him.

“Momma can we mutate like that too!” Dani says excitedly as Bela and Cass cringe.

“Absolutely not.  Do not even think about trying.” Alcina scolds while Heisenberg and Rose chuckle at them.

“Why would anyone want to have a gross bug vagina?”  Cassandra turns around asking her sister.

Dani shrugs, “I don’t know, I just think it would be neat.” Rose shoves the controller into Dani’s hands and takes Angie from her.

“No more bug talk, you play, I’m getting tired.” Rose says stretching.

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They find their way into Eveline’s secret room and collect the arm.  They go to meet Zoe in her trailer only to find that no one is there.  They answer a call from Lucas where he tells Ethan that he has both Zoe and Mia, and that Ethan needs to play his game to save them and get the head.  They make their way back to the main house’s dissection room where they pull the snake key out of the dead deputy’s neck hole.  Lucas’ voice come out through a speaker explaining they need to find two keycards so they can meet.

“Ohhh, I love this guy! I’m getting so many ideas for new games, hehehe!” Angie says excitedly bouncing in Rose’s lap.  Donna glares at the doll chastising her through their mental link.  Angie pouts at the scolding.

They make their way through the increasingly molded main house solving Lucas’ puzzles and dodging the molded shambling around.  They find the blue keycard and make their way down into a secret room containing the red keycard.  Lucas calls again at the phone in the main hall, leading Ethan to a party in the barn.

They enter the barn to thumping music and glowing paint under a black light.  They come across a room with a television showing Lucas ranting and waving the D series head around, ranting about how he doesn’t want to give up his gift and that they can only get the serum from him before the television explodes.  They make their way through the barn avoiding trip mines and coming up to a locked gate with a passcode.  Lucas makes an appearance taunting Ethan and giving him incorrect passwords before a trap springs and a secret door opens up.

They wind through the barn avoiding the traps and taking out the molded arriving at Lucas’ arena where they fight off a giant molded.  After the fight they find the correct passcode to enter the birthday room.  They solve his puzzles and escape through the hole created by the dynamite.  They see a television with Zoe and Mia, Zoe explains where they are before Lucas cuts the camera to himself ranting about nothing.  They collect the D series head and leave the barn making their way to Zoe and Mia.  They release Zoe and Mia before collecting the completed serum.  Just after they are ambushed by a fully mutated Jack.

“Wait he isn’t dead?! I can’t believe I didn’t call it!” Heisenberg calls out as Dani fights Jack.

After a long grueling fight, taking out Jacks many swollen eyes and using one of the two serums to calcify him at Zoe’s request.  Walking down the pier they are faced with a choice to cure either Zoe or Mia.

“Well clearly we are supposed to cure mom. Its what dad did in real life.” Rose says.

“True, I did.  I did feel bad though, Chris ended up saving Zoe and her uncle, so it all ended up good.” Ethan says.

“Yeah, sure choosing Mia is what really happened but what if we chose Zoe?” Dani asks hovering over Zoe in game.

“No! We can do it later right now we are choosing mom.” Rose says sternly.

“Fiiiiinnnnnee.” Dani whines out giving Mia the serum.  They take the raft down the river listening to Ethan and Mia talk about the situation before they come across the wrecked boat Mia and Eveline arrived on.  They are attacked by the mold, and they switch to Mia’s perspective as they hear Eveline speak to her through their mental connection.

“Well, this is going to be interesting, I’ve never seen this before.” Ethan says as they move into the ship. They find an unconscious Ethan who is taken by the mold deeper into the ship.  They move through the mold infested ship as Mia, getting flashbacks as they move on.  They follow the phantom Eveline to a room containing a television where they watch a video tape that blends into them playing through the situation leading to the crash of the ship and the infection of the Baker family.

They see Mia’s partner Alan who explains he is the reason Eveline escaped he explains that she needs to fix his mess and they begin to track Eveline through the ship.  They finally come across Eveline in the engine room before she runs off again.  They find Alan again in the room next to the one where they started the video tape. As he explains that Eveline is deteriorating, he insults her, and she overtakes him with the mold.  The mold then spreads to Mia infecting her.  They then see Mia recording the warning video from the beginning of the game.  The section ends with Mia being blown off the ship and floating unconscious in the water, before returning to the present with Mia and the Phantom Eveline talking. Making their way to the bridge they use the surveillance cameras to find Ethan trapped in mold in the engine room. On the way there they are impeded by the phantom Eveline and the remaining molded.

As Mia finds Ethan, the perspective swaps back to Ethan’s mind as he speaks to a sane Jack.  He explains that Eveline is the cause of all the murders and kidnappings.  He says that they were infected when He rescued her from the crashed tanker.  Jack also explains that stopping Eveline will stop the mold.  Before Ethan awakens to Eveline and Mia arguing.  Mia rips him free from the mold prison and gives him the tissue sample before locking him out of the engine room urging him to kill Eveline.  They continue through the bayou to a salt mine near the Baker house.  They hear a military broadcast explaining a team was sent in to take down Eveline. They traverse the salt mines finding an underground lab with information on Eveline and the E series mold.  They use Eveline’s tissue samples to make the E- Necrotoxin that is used to kill her permanently. As they exit the mine, Ethan sees flashes of Eveline as she sends the molded to kill him. They exit the mine into the original room Ethan found Mia in where he has a vision of Mia panicking.  He continues to see visions of Mia’s attack on him and Eveline controlling her.  They stab Eveline with the serum, and she reveals her true form as Grandma before melting away and mutating into a large monstrosity.

As Dani fights the massive face of Eveline, Miranda mumbles to herself, “Absolutely fascinating.  How she responds to different stimuli and the delayed injection of the Necrotoxin.” Rose and Dani scream forgetting that Miranda was sitting behind them.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you! You scared the living hell out of us!” Rose yells at her turning to face Miranda who has a notebook open in her lap.  “What are you even doing?”

Miranda blushes at being caught, “I was taking notes on how E-001 reacted and how the family responded to the infection.  It is incredibly fascinating that the whole Baker family mutated without becoming one of the shambling molded.”

“Trust me she was about to run off and work more before I stopped her.” Elena interjects into Miranda’s rambling.  “Don’t worry, I won’t let her work on the Eveline project outside of simply watching videos.” Miranda’s blush deepens and she looks embarrassed at being called out by her lab assistant.

“Good, no more mind control children allowed.” Dani says rudely turning back to the screen continuing the final fight.

Ethan is thrown from the house and sees helicopters arriving at the house as he is attacked by Eveline. He uses an unknown gun to shoot Eveline calcifying and crumbling her finally.  After the battle, Ethan and Mia are rescued by Chris.  The final shots of the game are Ethan speaking over clips of marshlands and the reveal of the Blue Umbrella helicopter.

“Well that certainly was something….” Ethan says as the credits roll.  Mia wide eyed and shocked nods in agreement.

“So, all that actually happened?” Rose asks her parents, they both nod. “Ok well that doesn’t explain how the heck this got made or why we were sent it or by who!” Rose rants.

“Who cares, it was awesome!” Dani exclaims high fiving Angie who cheers with her.

“Can we leave now? My back is beginning to hurt.” Bela complains standing up and stretching.

Rose boos her, “Fine be boring.  What did everyone else think?” She asks everyone left in the room.

“Amazing! Fantastic! Ten out of ten!” Dani exclaims clinging onto Rose.

“It was interesting, very cinematic.  A bit tropey at times but it works in its favor.  Especially since this technically happened.  The villains were enjoyable and empathetic at the same time.” Heisenberg critiques.

“Yeah, whatever it was fine.” Cass says getting up and leaving the room.

“I had quite a nice time, I’m glad you suggested this, Rose.” Alcina says picking up the sleeping Donna. “I’m sure Donna will apologize for falling asleep tomorrow morning.  Have a good night.”  She kisses the top of Rose and Dani’s heads and leave the room.

“It was quite informative, thank you for inviting me, Rose.  I truly appreciate it.  Now I must go and review my notes.” Miranda says looking at her notebook as she slowly leaves the room.

“We are actually going to bed, but thanks for inviting us, Rose.  We’ll have to do it again soon!” Elena says grabbing Miranda’s arm and taking her notebook.

“I think your mom and I have some talking to do, but you guys have a good night sweetie.” Ethan says getting up before kissing Rose on the head.

“Yeah, outside of the horrifying content of this ‘game’ it was fun.  Have a good night honey.” Mia says following her husband to their room.

“Alright seems like the party is dying down and someone has to get Sal to his room.  Seems like he and Donna can’t stay up late like us cool kids.” Heisenberg laughs out shaking Sal awake.  Sal stands up groggily and leans ion Heisenberg as they leave to their respective rooms.

“Lame everyone left. You want to stay up or are you hitting the sack too?” Dani asks Rose.

“I think I’m going to bed too.  I have a lot to think about.” Rose says hugging Dani, “See you in the morning Dan.”  Dani decides to follow Rose and they head to bed.

In his assigned quarters, the Duke watches the group scatter to their rooms for bed, “I’m glad they enjoyed my little gift.  Hopefully, it answers some questions for them.” The Duke says to himself chuckling.

[choruscas]

suptober day 10: sweet rides

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! (or removed if you prefer) it tags you in all my short stories like these so you never miss them!

(THERE WILL BE A PART TWO TO THIS! ONCE IT’S OUT, I’LL EDIT THIS ONE AND LINK TO THE SECOND PART ONCE IT’S FINISHED!)

also, sorry that you’re seeing the earlier days in your feeds! i forgot my writing ipad when i went on vacation this weekend, so I’ve been trying to make up the days i missed! i should catch up soon, i’ve just been incredibly busy!

October 10th, 1890 - Lawrence, Kansas

Castiel drew his breath in as the cold air of fall hit his face. He looked around the town, seeing no signs of anybody out.

Most of them were probably in saloons or shops of some sort, drinking their sorrows away with cheap whiskey and tapping all their fortunes out with gambling.

He had lived in this town his whole life, but downtown he has only recently grown familiar with it.

Two months ago, his parents disappeared from him. And the rest of his family either moved away from Lawrence or were arrested for felony and murder charges. Castiel wasn’t like that. Being the youngest in the Novak family was hard, but he managed. He was the last of the Novak’s and he never made any promises to carry the family name, since he wasn’t interested in women of any kind.

So he wouldn’t. Once he drew his dying and final breath, the Novak’s would be no more.

However, in the meantime, he could make fault of his name. He wasn’t the proudest of being a Novak, but like previously said, he managed.

Walking through the dirt roads, marked with horses hooves and wagon’s wheels after years of use, Castiel found himself at the Roadhouse, like he did every Friday night.

He enjoyed the company there, and the beer was cheap but it was decent. He wasn’t much of a drinker, as his mom had drank her heart out all his life, but alcohol was the norm, so he occasionally had a beer or two.

He went inside, pushing the doors forward to be greeted by Ellen Harvelle, the Roadhouse’s proud owner. She was serving a man, who Castiel had never seen before, with big ears and a long nose.

“Hello Ellen. Is Jo working tonight?” he smiled at her while approaching the counter. Jo Harvelle was younger and was also Ellen’s only daughter.

“Nah.” She shook her head. “She’s got studyin’ so she’s workin’ on that upstairs.”

Castiel nodded and looked around the room, there were the usuals that were normally around, like Bobby Singer with his friend Rufus Turner, Meg Masters (a devil in disguise, ask anybody) and...

Dean Winchester.

Town’s heartthrob. And Castiel would never admittedly say this, but also the only man Castiel had currently sought out for.

About a month ago, Dean’s father had died and so him and his brother moved all the way from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to Lawrence. He became a regular and were familiar with some of the townspeople, since he had lived there until he was four. His mother had died in the paper’s fire at their house, and so they moved across the country. Since the town was celebrating its thirty-sixth anniversary soon, it meant that the town was still young, and so was Dean. John Winchester — thy boys’ father, was a state-famous cowboy, which gave Dean and his brother Sam a good name.

However, Castiel’s has barely usurped a full-on conversation with the man. Castiel was fairly confident, but pretty boys like Dean made his throat close up. Normally their conversations were around five minutes long, until some girl comes and ushers him away.

Although Castiel has never heard that Dean has gotten lucky with any of the women in the town. Maybe he kept it a secret, or maybe he wasn’t interested in sex. With a body like his, Castiel was surprised he didn’t. He could do so very easily, with anybody in the town who was willing.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean called out, waving a large arm up in the sky. Next to him was who he thinks was his younger brother, with shaggy hair and a lanky body, Sam Winchester.

Assuming Dean’s gesture was meant to usher him over, Castiel got up from his stool and walked over, taking off his black cowboy hat and placing it on the pool table once he got to his destination. Dean tipped his Stetson in greeting and flashed a toothy smile to Castiel, causing his cheeks to heat up.

“You here for a beer, angel?” Dean asked.

That was new.

“Uhm, yes. Like I normally am.” Castiel replied solemnly, a little bit skeptical since Dean was being extra flashy today.

Perhaps it was because Sam was around.

“Well,” he started. “I’d like ya to meet Sammy, my lil’ brother. Sammy, Castiel. Castiel, Sammy.”

Castiel nodded. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The younger brother stuck his arm out, signaling a handshake. It was firm, despite his young age. “You too.”

Dean gave his brother a grin and a wink and Sam had almost immediately left to go to the counter, instantly striking up a conversation with Ellen.

Odd.

“So, have you heard about Lucifer?” The question just popped up out of the blue. Dean was leaning on his cue pole, his hands over the top and his chin resting on his knuckles.

Castiel quirked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“The murderer, guy got his face on the wanted posters ‘bout two months ago. People are sayin’ he murdered two people and some animals or somethin’. I don’t gossip like some people do here but it’s somethin’ I’ve heard goin’ ‘round.”

He licked his lips. He hasn’t seen any wanted posters of any kind, so either he was blind or oblivious to his surroundings. Hopefully the latter.

“I haven’t. Is his real name Lucifer?” Castiel asked, now engaged in the conversation, curious.

“Naw, Lucas or somethin’. Lucas... Shurley, I’m pretty sure.” He bit his lip, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

Fuck.

“Lucas Shurley? I...” Castiel’s mouth went dry and the world suddenly got dizzy. “I need to sit down— o-or leave... I—“

Dean put down his cue stick, and it clattered to the ground. He gracefully swept over to where Castiel started leaning over the pool table. He put his hands on his back and laced his fingers with his to support him up.

“Cas?” His voice was soft, like of those of a kitten. “Hey... hey, man. Are you alright?”

“I have to go home—“ Castiel started, his stomach feeling like thousands of volcanic ruptures.

“I’ll take ya, man. How far do you live?”

Castiel looked up to face Dean. “About— about two miles up north. You... I can walk.”

“Walk? No. Where’s your horse?”

“Don’t have one anymore. Horse disappeared along with my parents.” Castiel said like it was nothing.

In all honesty, he didn’t believe it was nothing. He just didn’t want to worry Dean.

It was everything. Chuck and Naomi Novak were his favorite people in the world. Sure, the both of them smoked their lungs dry but without them, Castiel would be a goner. They’ve saved him, fixed him, in more ways and times than he could count.

“I’ll take ya, Baby can fit two.”

“Baby?”

“My black mare. God, she’s a beaut. Love o’ my life.” Dean smiled with pride.

Castiel nodded. That’s how Lincoln was to Castiel and his family. He was a very obedient crime colored horse, and he was very fond of him. However, after his parents disappearance, Lincoln had gone with them. Over and over Castiel theorized where they could’ve gone, but nothing of the sorts came to mind. They’ve always sort of stayed around Lawrence. Never the adventurous type, which was why their disappearance was odd.

Baby was a very comfortable horse, but it was even more comfortable to wrap his hands around Dean’s waist, feeling the rise and fall of his breath against his body. His chest was touching his back and Dean talked to him as Baby slowly rode ahead. Dean had reassured Castiel that since he didn’t feel well, Baby wouldn’t go as fast as she normally would’ve.

Hiding his blush in the night sky, Castiel’s eyes were weary and droopy. He never even got the time to get a beer, nor talk to anyone else. His trip was cut short. However, so was Dean’s.

“Sammy’s a genius, I’m tellin’ ya.” Dean filled the empty silence with something to talk about. “Been studyin’ to go to this new college called Stanford. ‘Bout five years old, fairly new. It’s all the way in California, poor guy.”

Castiel didn’t respond, but Dean could feel the nod of his body against him.

“You got any siblings?” Dean genuinely asked, cocking his head back to meet eye to eye with Castiel. Dean seemed like a good horseback, so he trusted him.

Castiel thinned his lips. “Yes... two. They don’t live around here anymore. Older brothers... uhm, Michael and Gabriel and-“

He stopped himself.

“And what?” Worry sort of filled Dean’s voice.

“I also have an older half brother... but I don’t talk to him. He sort of made my life a living hell growing up.”

“‘M sorry to hear that, Cas.”

Baby stopped in her tracks slowly, and Dean eyed Castiel’s cottage. It was on the outskirts of town, and the wooden place wasn’t the biggest, but it managed. He was proud of it. It’s been there since Lawrence founded in ‘64 and he wasn’t planning on demolishing it anytime soon.

Dean hopped off of Baby and grabbed Castiel’s hand to help him. The sickness started riling back in his gut and he walked to his front door quickly.

The wooden patio could barely hold one person without creaking in vain, crying out because of the heavy steps heaving on it. Let alone two. However, Castiel couldn’t tempt away from the green eyes and peppered freckles face with a smile he’s grown so fond of since Dean moved back.

Dean took off his hat and placed it on his chest, his fingers curling around the crease and pinch of it. He looked down.

“I just realized ya forgot your hat at the Roadhouse.” Dean chuckled, his laugh music to Castiel’s ears. “Could I stop by tomorrow afternoon ‘n give it to ya? I promise I won’t mess wit’ it.”

Castiel nodded, his face becoming red. “Thank you, Dean.” He paused, then he furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Dean simply blinked and didn’t hesitate. “Because you made me realize that angel’s were real.”

They said their goodbyes and Castiel laid on his bed, first taking off all his clothing except for his undergarments. His sheets were cold with lack of use, as it has been a while since he’s used them.

Thoughts of Dean and his freckled body filled Castiel’s head. The imagery of his cock in Dean’s soft ass pumped his heart and he bit he lip, to try and attempt himself from getting hard. He had nothing but his hand to relieve himself, so he couldn’t tonight.

However, if he got lucky with Dean, he would be a sweet ride indeed.

(tags below)

@potato-painter

[dbzebra]

Surpassing the Strongest

Im back on Marten bs lol

This is something Ive wanted to do for a while now. A 28th World Tournament / End of Z retelling, which focuses on Goten’s plans to follow in his fathers footsteps like Goku originally planned back in the Buu Saga. Ignores DBS obviously.  Anyway this is just a oneshot for now but may possibly make it into a longfic.

Enjoy!!

May, Age 784.

Ten years of peace had passed since Majin Buu's defeat.

The cool spring air blew in from an open window of Orange Star High School. Son Goten was lost in thought as the lecture droned on from in front of him. He couldn't hear what the teacher was saying. Rather, he didn't really care. He wanted to be outside and enjoying the day. Flying around or out on a date.

Ya know, something that was actually fun.

Something, anything but being cooped up in a stuffy building all day on such a nice afternoon. If Goten closed his eyes, he could feel himself soaring through the clouds on the Flying Nimbus, the wind in his hair and the whole world below him. Ever since he learned to fly, it's been his absolute favorite thing to do.

"Man, I wanna go to the beach!" Goten whined to himself and continued daydreaming about the endless possibilities of summer fun when he heard two kids whispering from the back of the classroom that piqued his attention. Super sensitive hearing really came in handy sometimes!

"Did you hear? Mr. Satan won't be participating in the World Martial Arts Tournament next week. He announced his retirement yesterday."

"What, really?! Maybe I should enter then. Now I'll actually stand a chance."

"Noooo! Mr. Satan can't retire!" Another kid chimed in, slamming his fists down on his desk in despair. "He's my hero! The strongest guy in the whole universe!"

"It's true man. I saw it on TV. He's all bald now too. Mr. Buu is gonna sweep with him gone. He's unbeatable next to Mr. Satan!"

"Awww… Yeah, you're right. Buu is unstoppable! He's never even been touched in a fight once!"

Goten snickered to himself. If only they knew the truth. "Speak for yourself. Me and Trunks almost beat him when we were fused together!"

The more Goten thought about it, the more it intrigued him.

He always loved the World Tournament, ever since he was a kid. Growing up, Goten loved hearing stories from his dad, Yamcha and Krillin about their fights from the old days. He collected all tons of World Tournament merchandise over the years, most notably of which were figures of every finalist leading back to the very first Tournament. The premium edition figurine of his father as a teenager during the 23rd Tournament was his most prized possession. He had to send in like one hundred postcards to a sweepstakes to win. The day he got the letter in the mail saying that he won, he almost flipped.

The news of the upcoming Tournament re-ignited a fire in the young Saiyan.

"Maybe I should enter! I'll run it by Mar later..."

__________________________________________________________

The final bell rang as class was let out for the day.

Goten stretched his arms out wide upon walking out the front doors of Orange Star High with an extra pip in his step. It was finally the weekend!

He spotted his girlfriend leaning against one of the pillars at the front gate, sporting her signature twintails. She was waiting for him! He grinned and picked up his pace a little bit. Marron twirled a strand of blonde hair in her fingers as she absent-mindedly watched a capsule-plane go by from above. 

Being a sophomore, sixteen yer old Marron was on the cheer squad and wrote for the school newspaper. Like most girls her age, Marron loved shopping, but her true passion was writing. It all started when she used to read fantasy books and write in her diary as a little girl. She hoped to work for a big fashion designer as a writer when she got older.

"Hey there, gorgeous." Goten said while he snuck up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Marron flinched in surprise, but lit up when she heard her boyfriend's voice. She swung around and jumped into his arms, planting a kiss on her boyfriend's face. "Goten! It's great to see you!" Marron said and kissed him again, just for good measure. He definitely wasn't going to object.

“You too! So how was class?

“Boring. I’m starting to see why you and Trunks skip all the time.” Marron huffed, and then playfully poked his chest. “I guess being a delinquent like you has its perks~!”

“Told ya!” He said with a cheeky grin, eager to tell her about what happened today. “Anyway, ready to go?”

Marron smiled and grabbed his hand affectionately. A date was just what she needed right now. "Sure! Where are we going~?"

"There's an ice cream stand near the park about three blocks that way." He replied, gesturing over his shoulder with this thumb. "I'm friends with the guy who runs it!"

"Sounds great! It's such a nice day out! And I don't have to be home anytime soon anyway, so we have the whole afternoon to ourselves!" Marron chirped and playfully pulled him along.

After a bit of walking, they reached their destination . It was one of the more popular spots, so there wasn't a surprise there was a line.

"If I don't get something in my stomach soon, I might just eat my own hand!" Goten whined, his stomach growled almost as if it was agreeing.

"I'd pay to see that." Marron laughed.

Soon enough, it was their turn.

"Well well, look who it is! My number one customer!" The man at the stand said. He was an older man, about Goku's height. He had a kind face with short grayish hair. "Welcome back, Goten!"

"Hey Mr. Sherbert!"

"On a hot date?!" Mr. Sherbert said as he winked at the two teens. "You'd better treat her right, you hear?"

"Yeah! I'd never do anything bad. Right Mar?" Goten grinned. Marron blushed a bit from next to him.

"So what can I get for you two kids today?"

Goten already knew what he wanted; he had thought about it on the way over. "You first."

"Hmm..." Marron scanned the options until she found just the right one. I'll take a medium sized scoop of mint on a waffle cone, please." Marron said, eyeing the green-colored ice cream in the picture.

"Comin right up, miss! And how 'bout for you, big guy? The usual?"

"You bet!"

The older man laughed out loud. "I'd expect no less! A triple deluxe cone of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate with rainbow sprinkles, comin' right up!"

"How much do I owe ya?" Goten said, digging into his pocket for his wallet.

"This one's on the house, kid." Mr. Sherbert said, waving off Goten's attempt to hand him money.

Goten and Marron both looked shocked.

"What, really?"

"Yep. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Wow! Thanks a lot!"

"Just make sure you show this nice young lady a fun time on your date, okay?" Mr. Sherbert said with a kind smile, as he and Goten shared a laugh.

"I promise!"

After that, Goten and Marron got their food then took a seat on the grass in the park across the street and ate their snacks together.

"So, tell me. What's the big news?" Marron asked as she finished off her food, feeding off his anticipation. She could tell it was something big- whatever it was. "You've been antsy all afternoon!"

Goten fell backwards onto the grass and put his hands behind his head. "Well, I heard something interesting in class today!"

"You mean you actually paid attention?"

"Nope!" Goten declared without hesitating one bit. 

Marron rolled her eyes with a giggle. She expected that response. 

"It's about the World Martial Arts Tournament."

"Oh yeah!!” Marron exclaimed. “That’s next week, right? What happened?"

"Mr. Satan retired. And I'm considering entering. I’m sure Trunks and my dad will too.”

Marron gasped and clasped her hands together joyfully. "Oh my God, Goten, you totally should!" Marron exclaimed, putting her hands on his knee. "It would be so cool! Plus, it'll be like a little vacation for us!"

"You really think so?"

"Of course! You'll do great!" Marron declared happily. She gently took his large hand in her smaller ones and stared deep into his eyes. "You've been training so hard these past few years. I know that better than anyone. You said you wanted to surpass Goku someday, right? Well this is your biggest chance. I’ll be your cheerleader the whole way!” Marron declared that as if it were a love declaration.  But it didn’t matter what place he came in. To her, Son Goten was already number one. 

Goten liked the sound of that. He sat up and stole a quick kiss from Marron's lips when she wasn't paying attention. He pulled back and saw that the blonde was staring down at her dress, a scarlet-red hue covering her cheeks from ear-to-ear.

“You're the best, Mar. And you're right. I'm entering. And I'm going to win!"

"W-W-Warn me before you do that! I-I-I wasn't ready!" She stammered out, fixing her hair to distract herself from the sudden kiss. It was only a moment, but she felt the love and appreciation he had for her in it.

A sly grin made it's way onto the half-Saiyan's lips. "Okay then. I'm warning you now."

Marron didn't have time to react as she screamed with laughter when he pounced on her a moment later. They fell back onto the grass together and started making out, not caring who saw them.

_____________________________________________________________

It was almost dusk when Goten and Marron parted ways for the night. As the young Saiyan approached his home in the mountains from above, the sky had become a brilliant orange and red hue. It was like a wild flame slowly dying out into the calm darkness of the night. Sunsets were always soothing for him. When he was still a small child, Goten used to watch the sunset and think of his dad, wondering if he saw the same sunset from Other World. 

Goten dropped down onto the grass in front of his house; smoke coming from the chimney. Goten smiled widely. He could smell dinner from here! "Oh boy! My favorite! Nothing beats Mom's cooking!"

“I’m home!” Goten called upon walking in.

“Hey kiddo! Grab a seat, it’s chow time!” Goku waved to his son, already seated at the table.

Chi-Chi placed the last plate on the table and then sat down herself. “Welcome home, honey!”

Goten sat down and together the family of three started eating. Chi-Chi paced herself while the boys ate in typical Son fashion-- as if it were their last meal ever (and seemingly never even came up to breathe). Chi-Chi sighed with a smile. She was used to it by now. 

“Man Chi-Chi, you outdid yourself! This is really great!!” Goku exclaimed and went back for a fifth helping. “Your food is the best in the whole world!”

Chi-Chi touched her cheeks, bashfully smiling. She was even blushing a bit. “Oh, stop teasing, Goku. You're embarrassing me!”

“I’m serious!” Goku continued.

“Um, Mom…” Goten started hesitantly. He scratched the side of his cheek, thinking how to word his next question. “Sorry to ask this so suddenly, but… can I take a week off from school?” He said and then braced himself for the ‘no.’

Without flinching, Chi-Chi put down the tea she was sipping and smiled. “Planning a romantic getaway with your girlfriend~? I don’t mind, but if something happens are you prepared to take responsibility? A girl’s virginity is a special thing, Goten!” 

Goten instantly did a spit take. He hacked and coughed and Goku patted him on the back. Once the teen caught his breath, he went pure red from embarrassment. Or was it from shock? Probably both. 

“What I do with Mar is none of--- W-Wait! There’s no romantic getaway!” Goten practically shouted. 

Talking about that type of stuff with Trunks was one thing, but it was the absolute LAST topic of conversation Son Goten ever in a million years wanted to have with his mother. 

“Oh honey, stop being so dramatic. I’m no fool. I know how much you two love each other, it’s only natural!”

“Mom! Enough! I’m not talking about this with you!”

In the years since Buu, most things didn’t bother the Son matriarch anymore. Chi-Chi let things slide. She even started wearing her hair down or in a ponytail more often than not. And became brazent with her playful teasing. Too brazent for Goten’s own good. First Gohan, now him. Goku almost felt bad for them. Almost. He found it amusing. 

Goten slapped his cheeks and quickly shook off the image before his mind could wander any further to any thoughts that might make him not able to ride the Flying Nimbus anymore. 

“Besides, 18 would kill me, revive me with the Dragon Balls, and then kill me again!!” Goten said, getting a laugh from his parents. They were laughing because they knew he was right. 

“Of course, honey. Now what’s the real reason?” She knew Goten would likely skip anyway. Goten didn’t think she knew, but she did. She was smarter than she looked. But still, she appreciated that he came to them first, whatever the reason was.

“I want to enter the World Tournament.” Goten declared, surprising both of his parents. 

“I’m in too!!” Goku replied with the same confident grin his son had. Goku had a feeling Goten would. “There’s this guy I’ve been keeping an eye on lately. He’s got some insane power within him, more than he realizes. I have a hunch he’ll be entering the Tournament next week.”

Though he didn’t say this aloud, Son Goku had another reason he wanted to enter the Tournament. A lesson that his master had taught him long ago. 

“A hunch?” Chi-Chi asked, somewhat worried. She had gotten used to the peace again. They all had. The last thing she wanted was another creep with an inflated ego dragging her boys into another universal death battle. “Sounds like bad news to me.”

“No need to worry. This guy’s totally pure of heart.” Goku replied, easing his wife’s fears.

“So who is he then?” Goten said, in between heaps of food. “Do we know him?”

Goku flashed his signature wide grin. “Sorry! Not telling. You’ll have to wait and see for yourself!”

Goten slouched back in his seat and frowned. “That’s lame. You’re no fun.”

“We’ll have to train for the Tournament just to be sure! I have a feeling this is gonna be a fun one!”

“Yeah!” 

“I had a feeling this day would come sooner or later.” Chi-Chi said, sighing slightly. It was tough for her seeing her baby boy growing up into a man. He was almost done highschool, in a loving committed relationship, and now following in his father’s footsteps as a fighter. Soon he’d be out of the house and out on his own. The thought almost made her tear up, but she supported him nonetheless. The Son matriarch excused herself from the dinner table to hurry into the hall closet and pulled out a large white box with a bow on it. 

Upon returning, Chi-Chi glanced to Goku for a moment and then handed her son the box. “I know your eighteenth birthday isn’t for a while, but I… we wanted you to have this before your big day. I made it myself.”

Goten raised an eyebrow at the box, shaking it slightly. It didn’t sound like a game or anything like that was inside. Now he was really curious. He carefully lifted the lid off of the box to see a brand new gi. His current one was fine and all, but it was getting a little too small and worn out over the past months of consistent training. 

“Whoa! This is…” He gasped.

It was an orange gi, much like his father had worn for decades. But what made it different from Goku’s was instead of blue, Goten’s new gi had a black undershirt, and matching black belt, wristbands and boots. 

Goten smiled as wide as could be as he lifted the gi out of the box to get a better look at it. “This is great! Thank you so much! I’m gonna go try it on!!” He said and ran to his bedroom to change. 

Goku and Chi-Chi idled about in the meantime, cleaning up from dinner when the teenaged Saiyan returned shortly after. 

Chi-Chi’s eyes lit up like stars while Goku proudly beamed from beside her. 

“Oh, look at you! You look so handsome!” Chi-Chi gushed, fussing all over her son despite his protests. “You look just like your father did when he and I reunited at the Tournament all those years ago! Ahh, those were the days~!”

“Yup! Lookin’ just like his old man!” Goku said. “Except for the hair!”

“Hey! Don’t hate!” Goten whined. “This hairstyle is stylish!”

Goten had recently changed his hairstyle to stand out from his father. Instead of his father’s signature palm-tree hairstyle, Son Goten let his hair grow out. It still shot out in most directions, but was now much longer and shaggier, reached the back of his neck. He liked it a lot more. Even better, Marron said it made him look super cute. So he decided to stick with it!

“Training begins tomorrow!” 

Goten smirked. He couldn’t wait. 

The next day, Son Goku came into Goten’s room bright and early, ready to start. They didn’t have much time to prepare! He found the teen was curled up in a ball, clutching his pillow for dear life. 

“Rise and shine, kiddo!” Goku swung open the curtains, bringing the hot bright rays of sunlight right onto Goten’s face. 

Goten winced and half-opened one eye. “...Dad? It’s ...7 AM! On a Saturday. Come back in like three hours.” Goten grimaced and then pulled the covers over his head, hoping his father would go away. It was too early for this! He was in the middle of an awesome dream too! 

“No way. We’ve only got six days till the tournament! We’re gonna train for three days, and then rest for three days.” Goku said and yanked the covers off the bed entirely. “We’re getting breakfast out on the road, so get up or you’ll miss it!” 

Goten groaned even louder than before, finally sitting up. The teen rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly. His hair shot out in every direction even more so than normal. Under most circumstances he wouldn’t mind early morning training, but his bed was too comfy to leave it right now! If he went back to sleep now, maybe he could continue the dream he was having! “Can’t today be a rest day?”

“Nope. Now be outside in ten minutes or your mother said no dinner for you!” Goku grinned teasingly, knowing that was his son’s weakness.

“Oh come onnn! That’s--. Ugh. Fiiine!” Goten whined. “Cheater.”

After brushing his teeth (still half asleep) Goten threw on his new gi. Knowing how their sparring sessions usually went, he hoped it wouldn’t get destroyed after not even having it a full day. 

He tiredly dragged his feet out to the kitchen where his mother was waiting for him. 

“Never shoulda entered this stupid Tournament…” He mumbled to himself and yawned again. 

Chi-Chi shook her head, laughing. “Oh hush. It’s not that bad. You know how your father gets in times like this.”

“Yeah, yeah. He could’ve at least waited another hour though!” Goten said and then went outside to see his father talking with Gohan as little Pan ran around at their feet.

“Oh, hey Gohan!” Goten said happily. 

“I see Dad’s puttin’ you through the ringer, huh?” Gohan chuckled when he saw his brother drag his feet out onto the grass. “I was down that road plenty of times growing up.” 

Goku had traded his signature orange gi for a blue gi with dark bluish-green pants, black shoes and orange wristbands. He still dearly treasured the Turtle School colors, but wanted something different for a change. 

“Uncle Goten!!” Pan cried happily. The toddler wore a little red gi, a present she got from Goku and Chi-Chi for Christmas the previous winter. Pan jumped into the air and came flying at him like a football player trying to take down the quarterback. 

Goten braced himself for the hug just as Pan slammed into him, laughing. “Hey, squirt!”

“I’m not a squirt, I grew two inches!” 

Pan giggled. She loved her uncle so much. He was like a big kid, but also an adult! Pan didn’t really get how that was possible, but she just wanted to be just like him. He showed her all the funnest games, and always knew all the coolest places to go! Plus whenever he visited he always snuck her candy when Gohan wasn’t looking. 

“Guess what Uncle Goten? Daddy says I can enter the World Toonament!” 

Goten couldn’t help but laugh at her pronunciation of the word tournament. “Wait, what? You’re sure it’s okay if she enters, Gohan?”

Gohan nodded. “When she heard Mr. Satan used to be the Champ, it’s all she wanted to do. Videl and I agreed that since there’s no threats anymore, it wouldn’t be a big deal. There’s no Junior division this time, but we’ll all be there anyway. So no harm done.”

“You’re right about that! Besides, I think she can give Goten a challenge!” Goku said, winking up at Pan. 

Pan tugged on Goten’s pant leg. “Is it true you’re comin’ fishin’ with us?” 

“Sure is, Pan! Come on! You can ride on my shoulders!” Goten said and picked the little one up. She felt so tall!

“Alright, we’re heading off!” Goku said. Pan cheered while Goten smirked and pumped his fists. Now that he was fully awake, he was ready for action.

Gohan trusted his father more than anyone else in the world. He went over to affectionately pat his daughter’s head. “Bye, Panny. Be good for Grandpa and Uncle Goten!”

“Okay Daddy!” 

And with that, the three were off. Gohan watched them go and then went back inside for his morning coffee.

The three followed the dirt path to a pretty meadow nearby. Dew glistened on the blades of grass, as the sun continued making its way over the mountain horizon. A river gently flowed into a waterfall that spilled into a sprawling crystal clear lake.. It brought back a wave of nostalgia for Goku as he could remember the countless times he went here to fish with Grandpa Gohan growing up. 

Goten placed Pan down and stretched as the toddler immediately ran over to the river’s edge and stared in awe. 

"Alright before we start training, whaddya say we get some breakfast? I’m starving!" Goku said, already prepping. 

"Sure! I got it covered! I’ll get us some fish!”

"My favorite!” Goku said. No matter how many times he ate Paozu tuna, it didn’t get old.

In the meantime, Goku gathered firewood and then fired a tiny ki blast to start a fire. Pan helped by throwing sticks to make it bigger. He placed three large wooden stakes over the fire, one for each of them to roast their breakfast on. 

Goten got down to his boxers and dove into the river. It was cold, yet refreshing. If he wasn't fully awake yet, he was now. The teen swam around a bit until some huge fish caught his eye. Common for this area, the Paozu fish were at least five times his size, and normally blue and white in color (but there were other colorations as well). Four of them spotted Goten at once and rushed towards their prey, each with the intent to swallow him whole. 

Goten became motionless, waiting for the right moment. As the first approached, he swam down and kicked it in the side, killing it instantly. The teen then disposed of the other three aquatic attackers in a similar fashion.

Goten swam around and gathered his food. One for each of them and one extra! They could split the last one. 

With their breakfast caught, the three generations of Sons sat around the fire, enjoying the morning together while they ate their breakfast in typical Saiyan fashion. 

Goku burped and rubbed his stomach upon finishing. “Man, that hit the spot! Now it’s time for training!” 

“I wanna train too, Grandpa!” Pan exclaimed. 

Goku ruffled Pan’s hair, making her giggle. “You like flying, right?” He asked, knowing the answer already. 

“Mhmm!” The four-year old gleefully said, raising her little hands into fists. 

“Alright, well how about this? I want you to fly around the world as fast as you can!”

Pan’s little eyes lit up. “Really? Okay! Can Uncle Goten come with me??!”

Goten laughed and knelt down to be on eye level with the toddler. “I’d love to, Panny, but I gotta train! Next time I’ll go with you! And I’ll show you something real cool!” 

“Pinky promise?” She said, holding up her little finger.

“Of course.” Goten grinned and they shook on it.

“Alright, bye Grandpa! Bye Uncle Goten!! I’ll be back soon!!” Pan waved and took off to the east. 

Once Pan was out of sight, the Son boys could truly focus on their training.

“So, what’s on the agenda??” 

"Okay, Goten. First, I need you to power up as high as you can possibly go." Goku folded his arms and smiled confidently. "I know things have been easy in these peace times, but I wanna see the progress you've made. You've been training primarily with Trunks, right?"

Goten nodded. "Yeah. At first it was pretty casual but these past two years or so we've really gotten serious."

Goku had full faith in his son. Though Goten was suppressing his energy, Goku could feel the sheer amount of power he had within him. In his fight with Buu, even as a child, Goten showed glimpses having more potential than even Gohan. At only seven years old, he became a Super Saiyan just by sparring for fun. And when fused together, Gotenks was one of the strongest fighters in the entire universe.

"...Alright, then. Here goes!" Goten smirked. He then took a deep breath and let out a mighty roar as his power skyrocketed. "HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

A wild golden aura erupted around the teenager's body while lighting violently sparked around him. Goten's muscles bulged somewhat while his shaggy hair stood completely upright, becoming sharp and jagged. First, Goten's eyes turned to an emerald green. Then, his dark black hair became the signature golden-yellow. The lightning increased in intensity as Goten didn't stop there and kept powering up until a burst of light shot from the teens body.

There stood Son Goten in a fully-powered Super Saiyan 2 state. The splitting image of his father. His facial features were relaxed and he was in complete control of his energy; a far cry from ten years ago when he had gotten carried away at the Tournament.

"How's this?" Goten asked, smirking slightly. “At first, it took a lot of rage to transform, like I had to picture Majin Buu hurting Mar or Mom again. But it’s easy now!”

"Amazing, Goten! Wow! I'm so proud of you!" Goku beamed with pride at how far his son has come. At only seventeen years old, Son Goten had mastered Super Saiyan 2. Goku wouldn't be surprised if he was on the edge of unlocking Super Saiyan 3!

"Me and Trunks are just about equals."

Equals?! They were equals? If that really was the case, Goku could truly put his worries about leaving the earth to the next generation to rest. "No wonder You got so strong so fast!"

"How would you compare us to Majin Buu? Like a ballpark."

"You mean the evil one? Hard to say exactly, but you're definitely stronger than Vegeta and I were at the time. If both of you attacked together at full power, you could have possibly beaten him before he split good from evil and lost most of his power. But you know more than anyone how unpredictable Buu can be. Even though he's good now, you have to be careful. If you get matched up against him, you can't afford many mistakes against a guy like that.”

Goten pumped his fists happily. "Right! Thanks, Dad! So, what now?"

"Power down to normal. Goku said and slipped into a fighting stance. "Let's have a quick spar. This time, no transforming.”

"Huh? Are you sure? But you'll kick my ass!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I'm gettin' old ya know! Now come on.” 

Goten nodded and after a deep breath, his hair and eyes returned to their normal black color. He clenched his fists and then slipped into a fighting stance. “Just watch the gi, okay? It’s brand new, and I was hopin’ to surprise Mar with it.”

Goku smirked. “Sure. I’ll let you have the first move.”

“You’ll regret that!!” Goten instantly burst forward, appearing as only a blur. He swung a volley of powerful kicks directly at his father's face.

Goku smirked as dodged with ease but Goten was relentless. Kick after kick he didn't stop. That continued until Goku grabbed Goten by the leg, and prepared to counter. "Got ya."

"Not so fast!" With his other leg, Goten swung but that too was caught. Goten squirmed and fought to break loose, but Goku’s grip only tightened. Growling, Goten spread his arms wide, unleashing an Explosive Wave at point blank range. 

Goku was hit dead on and lost his grip, staggering back somewhat as Goten landed. "OWW! Good one! That actually hurt! But I'm not even getting started yet!" 

Goku vanished from sight and reappeared behind his son. Goten swerved around just in time to see his father pulling his fist back, ready to strike. 

However the blow went right through his son as if it were an illusion. 

“An afterimage...” Goku said, smirking.

Two copies of Goten reappeared to Goku’s side. Then, the real Goten appeared from above and swung a ferocious kick at Goku, but that too was nothing but an illusion. 

“W-What?!” Goten exclaimed and jumped backwards, searching around for his father’s energy.

“I invented that move! Ya gotta be better than that!!” Goku said from a few yards away, smiling mischievously with his arms crossed. 

Goten ran towards Goku again, but this time Goku vanished completely. The teen flipped backwards just as Goku came into sight, narrowly dodging the counter. Goten burst forward and immediately slammed Goku in the back of  the head, this time hitting finally it’s mark. 

Goku was sent careening down towards the ground, but he caught himself and safely landed on his own two feet. He winced, rubbing his head where Goten hit him. “He’s tougher than I remember!”

Goten continued his assault, flying down towards his father and firing multiple energy waves at Goku.

Goku deflected the blasts away from himself, sending the blasts far away from the fight to explode in the distance. Goten charged a bigger blast in his left hand, firing it directly forward. Goku stayed absolutely still, waiting for Goten's blast. At the last moment, Goten curved the blast up and it exploded into multiple blasts that shot in every direction, wildly zig-zagging around without any sense of direction or course. 

Goku watched each blast intensely, waiting for the right moment. 

“He’s distracted!” Goten blasted forwards, head first, at full force, slamming directly into Goku’s back. 

Pulling his arms back into the signature pose, Goten his hands together. “KAAAAA… MEEEEE…” The blue energy began to build as Goten’s ki spiked. “HAAAAA… MEEEEE…”

Goku recovered and came to a sliding halt on the grassy terrain. The Saiyan hadn’t felt this excited in years. Goku smirked and raised his power level to match Goten’s. Just then, Goten vanished. 

Goku’s eyes widened and crossed his arms over his face, just as Goten appeared in front of him.

“HAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

The blast hit Goku dead on, creating a super massive explosion that could be felt all the way at the Son house from far away. 

Goten jumped backwards to gain distance. The teen hovered there, his senses on full awareness, waiting for his father to emerge from the smoke. A palm-tree hairstyle and bluish-green gi appeared through the smoke soon enough, completely unharmed. He was smiling! 

“I see you’ve finally mastered the Instant Transmission. Great work!” Goku grinned, folding his arms. 

The Instant Transmission technique. Goten had asked his father to teach him the attack about two years ago when he started his training. Right around the time he started dating Marron. Goten motives were as clear as day.

“Yeah! Thanks again!” Goten said.

“You won’t fool me twice with that move though. Come on, let’s keep going!”

“You bet.”

They rushed each other at the same time and collided. A powerful yet invisible tremor shook the area as their fists met. The father and son duo crashed blow for blow as they rose higher in the air. Their attacks grew more intense the higher they went.

Eventually they disappeared, and could only be seen by the tremors echoing throughout the grassy training grounds. 

At first, Goten traded blows evenly with his dad, countering each blow with ease. But as their struggle continued, Goku slowly raised his power and started overwhelming his father. He managed to land a crushing blow to the gut, making Goten falter. Goku went to punch him but Goten phased out of the way, reappearing some significant distance away and hid his energy singal. 

“Now’s my chance!”

Goten got into position and powered up to full. In an instant he pulled his hands back, charged two blue blasts of ki in his hands and fired. The beam exploded in a marvelous blue light, hitting its target dead on. “Gotcha.”

Goten waited for movement. But when the smoke cleared and Goku was gone! The teen growled when he saw his father simply dusting off his gi on the grass below. 

“Dammit! He’s not even hurt!” 

To Goku’s own surprise, he was just a bit out of breath.  ”If I’m not careful, he actually may get the advantage. He’s even further along in his training than I originally thought.” He smirked and then raised his hands close to the center of his face with his fingers spread out toward his eyes. “This was fun, Goten, but you’re not winning this fight.”

Goten braced himself and shut his eyes. “Oh crap!”

“SOLAR FLARE!”

A blinding white light exploded from the Saiyan father’s body as if a second sun was right there on the battlefield with them, covering everything in sight. 

Despite being temporarily blind, Goten’s other senses kicked into high gear. He felt where Goku was going to appear and attempted to counter, but missed every attack. Goku simply side-stepped or caught everything Goten threw at him. 

Goku smirked, reappearing right behind his son. "Come on! Focus! You're better than that, Goten!" He said right before flipping behind Goten and kneeing his son right in the back.

Goten was flown forward as he grunted from the impact of the hard hit, trying to regain control of his body as his sight finally began returning to him. 

Goku pursued his son, pounding him into the ground causing cracks and the ground itself to rise up from the impact. Goku then grabbed his son by the legs and threw him into the air. Goku flew straight up, stopping above Goten. He threw a punch at Goten but Goten managed to duck, countering with a jab to the gut.

Goku vanished and kicked his son upwards, and with a flare his energy unleashed a monstrous kiai that had Goten flying backwards, unable to recover. 

A boot connected with the boy’s face and he was sent shooting towards the ground yet again. 

“Try and stop this one!!” Goku cried and unleashed a volley of rapid-fire blasts. Goten’s head was still spinning from the kick, so he didn’t have time to block the dozens of golden Ki spheres that crashed into his body one after another seemingly without end. 

Finally, Goku built up one last, super-large energy ball for the final attack. 

Goten had just enough time to land on his feet and catch the ball of ki. He grunted as he felt himself being pushed back, but with a flare of his aura--almost turning Super Saiyan until he remebered the rule, managed to send it flying away. A massive explosion echoed from afar where the impact was. 

Goku floated above him with his hands on his hips, smiling proudly. 

Goten heaved and huffed, now feeling exhausted as if he sweat from his brow.  He really could have kept going, but decided against it and shook his head. “I’m done for now. You win....” He said and plopped down on the grass.

The fight was over. Goku grinned and flashed dual victory signs. “You did amazing, Goten. Really had me there!” 

“One of these days, I swear, the shoe is gonna be on the other foot!” Goten declared in between heavy breaths. At least his gi didn’t get ruined. 

“And I think that day will be sooner rather than later.” Goku smiled and sat down next to Goten on the grass as they waited for Panny to come back. 

Only six days remain until the 28th World Martial Arts Tournament begins!

[wildshub]

WHO: The Twilight of Adams WHAT: The boys head over to the cliff to turn on the repaired radio, hoping to get into contact with someone who can rescue them.  WHEN: Day 2 NOTE: For future reference.

Callum Callum would rather hike to the cliff and back with broken legs twenty times over than do it once with all of the other boys from the plane. Between two of the boys having to be carried and Warren teaching them all a song about how English was his favorite subject the entire way there, the Canadian felt thisclose to offing himself. The only thing keeping Callum from doing so was knowing that when they reached the cliff, they could finally turn the radio on. The radio that was now all fixed thanks to Jorts and JJ. “Yo, hey!” He called out to Sebastian when he first caught a glimpse of the boy and the fire they'd started. “They fixed the antenna. Let’s get this thing going." He practically yanked Warren off of Blue's back and dragged him over to Sebastian once they reached their destination. Not even bothering to ask Warren if he could touch his bag, Callum unzipped it and got the radio out, showing it off to Sebastian like it was the Stanley fucking Cup. "The twerps fucking did it."

Sebastian Sebastian could have waved at Callum, he could have given him any more of a greeting than the simple nod of acknowledgement that he did but he wasn't trying to be hella gay or anything, so alas, he remained fairly static. "Shit, you're kidding me," he found it hard to believe that Jorts could accomplish anything other than being chronically annoying but he didn't say that, instead he allowed himself to relish in the feeling of success, as limited as it was. "Wait, wait, wait, before we go too crazy, we need a strat," he instructed with his hands out in front of him, warning the other boys. "You said we've got limited battery on this thing- we don't want to waste it stuttering like idiots. We need to know how we're gonna handle the frequency and we need to know what we're gonna say and we need to know it by heart before we even touch that on button,"

Lukas "Yo, the fuck, dude, " Lukas objected half-assed-ly as he witnessed Callum pull Warren from Blue's back and basically dragged him over to Sebastian and the fire like they were about to sacrifice the Nordic cripple. Though he'd stuck towards the back of the group the hike up, now shit seemed to be happening he pushed the pace to catch up. Nudging Blue on the arm as he passed, he asked " You good? " with raised brow, referencing the bullshit Callum was on. But he didn't linger long, making his way to Thing 1 and Thing 2 but on steroids before they ruined his whole day of work on that stupid radio. " Bro, just because you couldn't even think to turn the thing on doesn't make the rest of us Stephen Hawking or whatever the fuck, " He said, announcing his presence with dry tone. He cast a glance to Warren, just to make sure the fucker hadn't lost a leg in the last thirty seconds thanks to Callum and his island famous manners. " If we're lucky, and, really fucking stupid lucky, " he was trying his best to be serious but even with his best efforts he still sounded kind of like he was taking the piss, " the frequency hasn't moved far from whatever channel it was on to begin with. But, it was in the ocean, " and Callum basically dry humped it all night, " so chances aren't looking too hot. Whatever we say it's gotta be short enough that we can say it, wait a few seconds on that channel for response, then move on without wasting a fuckload of battery. "

Sawyer With an extra hundred-and-some pounds on Sawyer’s back, the hike up the cliff had been a bitch on his ankle. But it was considerably less damage than Liam would’ve done if he’d tried to climb up on his own – and Lord knew they needed all the manpower they could get if they were stuck here any longer than a couple nights. After letting him down, Sawyer wandered over to where the rest of the group had congregated, clapping Canada on the shoulder and standing on his tiptoes to get a good look at the radio. "Shame we can't tap into a police frequency," he said. That would be his first try if a radio happened to wash up onshore with its batteries still intact. "How about our plane number, the number of guys stranded here, and, uh...shit, to bring us some fuckin' life rafts or somethin'."

Liam while liam was extremely grateful that sawyer offered to carry him up to the cliff, he couldn't help the feeling of guilt the entire way. he may be the shortest guy out of the group, but he was still pretty stocky and muscular. lukas probably weighed less than him. but thankfully they made it and the other boy let him down, liam hopping a few times before getting steady on his feet, making sure to not put too much pressure on his bad leg. "does anyone remember the plane number?" he spoke up, feeling like he was going to be shot with a bunch of sass from the meaner members of the group. "but uh, yeah, definitely say how many of us are here..."

Blue blue nodded in response as people check in on him, and he didnt mind shooing them off but the truth was carrying warren was tiring. he leaned against a tree, catching his breath while watching the others regroup, rallying around the radio. "is there like....a global mayday code?" his words came between breaths, occassionally glsncing around. "how many of us are injured too maybe....?"

Callum Callum shrugged the Hick's hand off of his shoulder, shooting him a clear dude, the fuck? look. "Who even remembers a plane number?" He pointed out. "Does anyone know it?" A question for the rest of the huddle. "Number of guys is good. And the injured thing too." He gave Blue props in the form of a nod for that. "But global mayday code? So like what, 911?" Nothing else came to mind.

Sebastian Sebastian listened to the others, some more carefully than others. "I don't think we need to waste time talking about who's injured and who's not, nobody's dying and they'll figure it out when they get there," he suggested, though the number of people in need of rescue was definitely worth mentioning. "Nah, 911 is just the U.S. bro, there's another one for international emergencies but that's on cell phones. Radios are a whole different ball game, it doesn't work like a dial-in service"

Liam liam froze for a second as everyone started talking over each other to figure out the best way to go about this. he always had a bad habit of freezing in stressful situations, and this was about as stressful as it could get. but after some talk about 911, he tried to find his voice and speak up. "i'm pretty sure you just say, like, mayday three times or something. the other people will figure it out. you don't need a code. at least that's what they do in movies."

Lukas Lukas didn't know why telling whoever might be listening how many were injured was necessary at all but maybe they would edit before the decided on a final message. For the most part he stayed quiet (shockingly) while ideas were thrown around, just watching the two meatheads with the radio. Afraid they might get a little too riled up and break the thing, like he hadn't been basically tossing it around that very morning. He didn't know the flight number, even though his mother had said it a million and one times just yesterday, but Lukas did know an international mayday code. " Like, SOS? " He asked, looking to the group, surely these dumb motherfuckers didn't mean that and not be able to think of it. " That's the international distress code, " or if it wasn't technically, at least anyone on a boat or plane out there would know what the fuck it was.

Blue as he sat beside his pal liam, he listened in, but looked to sky like he'd see a helicoptor and could say nevermind to all this. "so..sos, uh...what 9 stranded...mayday?" it wasnt like he expected his word to make an impact but he has hoped he could organize all this before having to carry warren back down.

Sawyer Sawyer feigned hurt when Callum shrugged his hand off, rolling his lips together to stifle a chuckle when he looked away again. He couldn’t see shit with everyone huddled together like this, so he opted to step back from the group and poke a rock around with his toe. “It don’t work like a GPS,” he interjected, “so nobody’s gonna know what the hell we’re talkin’ about if we just go in with a stress signal. Flight number’s our best bet of being located, with the name of the island we were s'posed to land on second.”

Sebastian Sebastian found himself getting increasingly frustrated with the group he'd unfortunately become a part of by way of disaster. "That's a fucking morse code distress signal- not a stress signal and it's for when you don't have a radio, this is different," his voice became a little harsher as he continued. "Yes, you say mayday, we got that part sorted, okay, we need to tune into a frequency so that we're actually saying it to somebody that can actually do something about our situation and not some fucking ninety year old ham radio loser in Iowa trying to make a friend," he explained. "-but you're right. We need flight number or anybody with a unique enough name. I'm Sebastian Claude Sergeant," he announced, though he wasn't convinced it was unique enough. "Blue, Dash- those your legal names? You're probably our best bet if so unless your last names are Smith,"

Sawyer Sawyer raised his hand, still kicking a rock around. "I got a criminal record."

Warren For once, this conversation got interesting to him. He turned to Sawyer. "That's sexy. For what?"

Sebastian Sebastian turned to Sawyer suddenly at the revelation, "What the fuck?" perhaps it was the suddenness of the statement or perhaps it was the fact itself but either way, it had surprised Sebastian in that moment. "Okay, you're out, nobody's coming for you," he decided, as if a criminal record immediately made Sawyer disposable, regardless of what it was for. "Shut up, Von Trapp, now is not the time," he spat at Warren a moment later, "Names, who has a good one," he reminded the group.

Blue blue was ready to responde but hearing sebastian's full name caught him off guard. "word? ok. blue barrowcliffe. legal name." he offered an understanding look to sawyer, not based on shared experience but moreso on wanting sawyer to feel alright. unless he murdered someone.

Sawyer "Hotwirin' a 1500," he replied, winking and clicking his tongue. "Meanin'~" Sawyer spun around on his foot. "They can legally look me up in state records. You got state records in your name, Claude?"

Liam liam's eyes widened when sawyer say that out of nowhere. of course that annoyed sebastian and the two went at each other. liam just looked down at his feet and mumbled to himself, "i do." not that anyone asked him. but he just hated how heated everything was getting and wasn't really thinking.

Sebastian Sebastian did not, for a second like being referred to by his middle name, especially not with such a facetious fucking tone from Deliverance. "Yeah, cowboy, I got a birth certificate, a social security number, enrollment in school, my car is registered, I've got medical records- do you want me to continue, genius?" he asked bitterly before Liam piped up. "You do what, bro? If you've got something to say, use your words,"

Lukas " It's a radio thing, dude, " Lukas said, mainly just to be contrary to Sebastian but he was also fairly certain he was right. He snorted a laugh when Sebastian revealed his middle name, but didn't risk saying anything about it. The snort was enough to let Gigantor know that it sounded fucking stupid. Looking to Sawyer when he revealed his criminal record, he didn't think now was the time to bring up his own. And plus, high school drug dealing didn't really compare to auto theft. But, it was still a good idea. " Yo, that's smart. " He complimented, though Liam's confession was far more surprising. Unlike Sebastian he could put together context clues. " A criminal record? Does it beat auto theft? " He asked, not really able to imagine short king doing anything besides maybe some smoking. " I'm thinking it's between Big Blue and GTA right now, " no one cares what you're thinking, Lukas.

Liam he looked up when sebastian addressed him, not realizing anyone heard him. "nothing," he said quietly, deciding to stay quiet for the rest of the time.

Callum "Okay, so... fuck." He shook his head, keeping up with that entire exchange made his brain feel like mush. "We'll use Blue's name, mention how many of us are here and... shit,  really does no one remember the plane number?"

Blue blues proximity allowed him another front row view to liam’s emotions and he gave him a soft pat on the back. while he hadn’t wanted to rock claude’s boat, he felt protective to the guys he was so critical of. "hey, we're getting sidetracked. let’s agree on a message and get home. I domt know the plane number or the pilot’s name.....what fucking company even set this retreat up?"

Liam "no, it does," he said to lukas when he asked, feeling like he was just wasting everyone's time anytime he spoke. he glanced over to blue and gave him a small smile when he tried to comfort him. "it was the twilight of adam," he remembers because his lawyer kept repeating it to the judge as if it was some church thing to rehabilitate him.

Warren Warren was never one for idle moments. He was the type of person who hated being still for too long. Nothing bored him like conversations that seemed to go nowhere. He was a person of action. The only way he could tolerate another minute of these boys not recalling information and sharing their gay middle names was if he was drunk, and unfortunately, there was not a drop of Dom Perignon Brut in him. He sighed. "Okay, you know what–" He had a lot of energy saved up from being carried up here. He could do this. He hopped over and snatched the radio out of Callum's hands, making quick work of getting away by prancing over to the ledge where he knew everyone would be careful around him. He turned the radio on. "Mayday, mayday, 911, this is Blue Cliffebarrel, I'm on an unknown island with 15 other boys and one of us have a criminal record, over."

Lukas Maybe they all should have expected Warren to be the one to cause trouble, but it certainly surprised Lukas when he made a grab for the radio, succeeded, and then hobbled away to the edge of the cliff before anyone could do anything about it. " What the fuck, " he reacted, more statement than question but it quickly got more heated when the cripple started talking " Dude! " He raced over, though Warren's plan worked and he slowed down when he got close to the edge. " Did you not hear any of that shit about the battery? " He snatched the walkie out of his hands, feeling a lot better now he had it rather than Warren or either of the Hulk impersonators. " And none of that even made any fucking sense, if anyone heard that they're just gonna think we're some idiot kids fucking around. " He said irritably, turning the thing back off. Too be fair, they were some idiot kids but he thought they were trying their best not to fuck around.

Sebastian  Sebastian's patience had been wearing thing, needless to say. Not that it had been particularly in tact even before the other boys had started squawking at each other. When Warren snatched the radio, however, regardless of his precarious position, Sebastian launched. "Are you fucking kidding me? Do you want to fucking die today? You said nothing- nothing of any value and nobody understands your goddamn hurdy durdy bullshit anyway," his was easily the most offensive of all the accents on the island in Sebastian's firm opinion. He couldn't believe he was in agreement with Jorts but for the first and perhaps the last time, Jorts was right, this was not the time to fuck around and he was glad the radio was turned off again. "Thank you" he offered the smaller boy genuinely, slightly relieved that the radio was seemingly in the hands of somebody that was taking this shit seriously now.

Warren "I said everything you all were talking about," Warren launched into his own defense as the walkie was snatched away from him. " Did I miss anything?" He asked the group, not waiting around for their answers. "I didn't miss a beat!" And then of course, Sebastian had to go off on him because if he didn't go off on someone every hour, his penis would shrink in size and that clearly couldn't happen. "Oh fuck off, Claude. Je m'en fous, frère. Coller l'antenne dans ton cul! Vous vous sentirez mieux."

Sawyer Right. Sawyer didn't speak French, but those sounded enough like fighting words for him to step between Claudia and the angry little Swedish man, putting a sizable distance between them. "Yeah, alright, oui oui. Last thing we need is to start fightin' with each other, so let's just...re-calibrate. Curly can take it from here, yeah?"

Sebastian Sebastian squared his shoulders at Warren's squealing, "Yeah you missed the part where you did anything fucking useful- Barrel-cliff, are you fucking kidding me?" he had registered it the first time but reminded of the mistake, he fired up all over again. Then came yet another Claude jab, "Call me Claude one more fucking time, I dare you, I'll hit you so goddamn hard you'll have to learn to speak French without teeth," he warned, whether Warren was on the cliff or not didn't matter much to Sebastian when his patience was being tested. He inhaled sharply at Sawyer's advice and nodded his head, "Yeah," he agreed, cracking the knuckles of one hand in his palm, "Back to square one,"

Lukas Ask him an hour ago if Lukas ever thought him and Sebastian would be on the same side of an argument Lukas would have made a fart noise in response. But now look at them, Lukas was having to hold back another Claude comment after he was thanked. Hyper aware of the cliff edge seeing as Claude was basically shaking Warren over it he took a few steps back towards the group and the fire. " Yeah, " He confirmed, looking up when Sawyer spoke. He actually didn't want this responsibility but he did not trust any of these idiots with it, not even the idiots he liked, so it had to fall to him. " So, " he started, running over all the suggestions from before Warren's interjection in his head. " Mayday, flight number, Twilight of Adam. How many of us there are, and a name they can look up easily. " He listed the things off, counting them on his fingers and conveniently leaving out the ones he thought were dumb. " That it? " He asked the group, letting it sit for a beat before he brought up the point Callum had just before. " Does anyone have any idea of the flight number? " Because he sure as fuck didn't.

JJ with all the bickering in the air, Jacob got lost in thought trying to figure out if the geographical landmarks of the island could tell him any more of their current location. Other than tropical and approaching rain season, he didn’t seem to notice much else. It wasn’t until Lukas had presented the questions again that his mind was pulled back to reality. “Private hire Boeing 12596...” he replied calmly. “Fifteen survivors. Heading through South-West links. Jacob Sanders, that’s my name. Plane crashed roughly two hours and fourty minutes from the expected arrival time to Hawaii. If the pilot flew the right route, they should be able to find us.” He said all he had to say and left the others to decide what to do with it. Of course, he felt he knew a better way to do so but did not want to be met with Sebastians anger issues, Warrents utter imbecility or anyone else’s need for explanations.

Sebastian Sebastian pointed at JJ and clicked his fingers, "That's it- fucking perfect- almost. A few changes- you're gonna say you're Blue Barrowcliffe, Canadian national- and make sure you mention that the plane went down. Private hire Boeing- whatever- down," he corrected, "Don't waste time we don't have," he justified a moment later.

Warren Warren rolled his eyes at all of Sebastian's threats. Hagrid didn't scare him one bit. He made faces behind Stumbo the Giant's back as JJ swooped in to save the day, doing his best to stay standing on his good foot as he listened in. He supposed what JJ said was far better than what he'd come up with. He didn't like how Sebastian seemed to be happy about it. He was going to do something to change that. "Are we sure we don't want to go with Sebastian Claude Sergeant? Because I would cross oceans in seconds just to see what kind of person that gay ass name belongs to."

Sebastian If it wasn't clear that Sebastian had had enough of Warren by now, the look on his face after his most recent comment would surely make it clear, even to NASA. He spun around to face the male and wrapped his hand around his neck firmly, "Good idea, I'll throw you across the fucking ocean to show you what kind of person I am," he suggested savagely, tugging ruthlessly at the other boy's throat as he got in close to his face.

Warren "Not really my kink but choking is close. Do it harder," Warren gasped out, grinning like an idiot as his face grew red.

Sawyer Their brief moment of triumph was quickly overshadowed by Sebastian’s short temper, and none of them were currently in the position to weather that storm. Sawyer acted on reflex, reaching out to grip Sebastian’s shoulder in a feeble attempt to pull him away from Warren and the edge of the cliff they were standing on. “Woah woah, hey - fuck, man, enough, you’re gonna kill him!”

Lukas Thank God JJ had enough braincells to make up for the rest of this sorry gang of misfits. Lukas felt a wave of relief wash over him as JJ was able to answer all the questions he had and without being an absolute moron about it. " Boeing 12596, heading through South-West links, " he repeated those details, nodding as he tried to commit them to memory. But on top of that, JJ had been calm about most things so far, approaching everything with reason, so it made Lukas think he'd be the least likely to stumble under pressure. Plus, JJ was probably the only person besides himself that he didn't need to watch like a hawk with the radio. " Alright, do you wann– " he starts to offer the radio, but before he can finish Gigantor and the Nordic cripple were having at it. " What the fuck, " he uttered for the third time in about five minutes, looking over at the interaction but with the radio still in hand he made no move to get between them like Sawyer did. Even in the weird circumstances an abrupt laugh escaped him at Warren's gasped comment. Then he looked to Callum, probably one of the only guys in the group that had any chance of taking on Sebastian. " You wanna fucking get control of your buddy there? " He raised his brows and tilted head towards the situation aka Warren getting murked and liking it.

Sebastian Sebastian stumbled back with hands on his shoulders but he didn't take Sawyer's words as a warning, "Then I'd be doing everybody a goddamn favor," he shot back, it didn't seem like a bad thing if the loudmouth European took a plunge off the edge of this conveniently placed cliff if it meant he didn't take any more shots at fucking up their plans for survival...or call him Claude again. He shrugged Sawyer's grip off of him but it didn't do much to ease his hostility toward Warren who was pressing just about every button Sebastian had at this point.

Callum Callum was fixated on the radio. He just wanted everyone to shut the fuck up so JJ could turn that thing on and spout all the information they took forever to agree on already. But then Warren. The fucking invalid idiot just couldn't keep his mouth shut. He sighed, moving away from JJ to assist Sawyer in deescalating the situation. "Yo, hey, Sebastian-" His concern for the situation grew when the Hick was shrugged off and the pressure around Warren's neck didn't ease. "Hey! C'mon!" He grabbed onto Sebastian's shoulders and pulled, hoping a more aggressive approach would make a difference.

Warren Warren was suffering. But he was also: thriving. Seeing the anger on Sebastian's face brought him joy like you would not believe. It was the only fun he's had on this island so far. "Is this all you got, Claude? Did Daddy not show you how it's done? You have to do it like this-" His hands left their position over Sebastian's, moving to grip Claude's neck with his own fingers.

Sebastian It was the name, it was the mention of his father, it was the shit-eating grin on Warren's face. Sebastian was immediately seeing red again and no amount of 'hey come on's from any of the other boys was enough for him to simmer down. "You wanna lose this fucking hand?" he asked, gripping onto the other boy's wrist still with Warren's  hand wrapped around, "Try it, I fucking dare you, see what happens,"

JJ He was mildly amused by the situation at hand. He found Sebastian’s irrational anger to Warrens imbecilic digs to be a waste of time and energy. Perhaps neither of them were aware just how important energy was in situations such as these, where the distance between them and their next meal was unknown and so was the distance between them and the rescue. Trying to speed the situation up, he’ll take the radio over from Lukas and move aside from the dick measuring contest. He adjusts the antenna until he can hear out the clear static. “Mayday, mayday” he will repeat, hoping the channel would pass through their call for help. “Maybe we could..” he skips through different channels, trying his best to find something intelligible, in any language. “We should get higher.”

Radio "92.1–" Static noises.

Lukas Unlike JJ, even preoccupied by the radio, Lukas was growing increasingly concerned about the whole Warren and Sebastian situation. Maybe if they weren't so close to a cliff, he wouldn't be so concerned– but then again Dash's words about Sebastian being their very own General Zaroff came to mind. His attention snapped back to JJ and the radio when the radio seemed to spurt something out, though it was hard to hear. " Did that just say something? " He asked looking back up at JJ, maybe he'd watched Ghost Adventures too many fucking times and was just making himself hear shit in the static. He nodded in agreement at the idea of getting higher, their makeshift antenna needed all the help it could get. Though, he couldn't leave without saying anything. " You think they're good? Like Sawyer and Callum probably have it handled, right? " He asked, glancing to the group by the cliff and then back to JJ, once again asking him for some reassurance that they weren't all gonna die here.

Sawyer Sawyer’s gaze flickered between the two groups of boys, spine stiffening as the radio whirred and crackled to life. That was it—that light at the end of the tunnel they were all so desperately chasing after. It was too fucking close for them to turn their backs on it now. He shot an urgent look at Callum, tilting his head toward Sebastian as if to say, fucking pull him off.

JJ With Lukas' attention dancing between the radio and the bikini contest, JJ focused entirely on quickly securing the antenna further using the string coming off his sleeve. As the static started coming through he could feel his body buzz with surprise and he'll press the button to the right. "Mayday, Mayday, Boeing 12596 coming through, do you copy?" he releases the button to allow the other side to process and continues to walk further up the hill, unsure if the change of location was actually helping the process or if they would have had a better chance sticking to the coast. "Come on..." he says, turning towards the group. "We might have something."

Callum The radio! It was obvious to anyone what Callum cared about more. Honestly, would it be the worst thing if Sebastian crushed Warren's windpipes? They could use all the quiet they could get to hear that thing. "Sebastian, come on, quit it-" He hooked an arm over Sebastian and leaned back, hoping his weight and the force would successfully separate the two. "Yo, Texas! A hand!"

Warren Warren has never been so close to death before. And he's taken a dangerous cocktail of party favors with nothing but a shot of absinth in his stomach once before. "Come on, Daddy Claude! Harder! Show me how you do it back home!" He laughed maniacally.

Sebastian That was the last straw, or maybe it was the laugh, or maybe Sebastian was just over tired but he wasn't fucking around anymore and without a moment more of hesitation he threw his weight into a punch that connected seamlessly with the other boy's face.

Sawyer “Jesus Christ,” Sawyer muttered beneath his breath; the first time he’d ever considered calling for God to help them escape from this apocalyptic hellhole. He hadn’t been quick enough to grab Sebastian’s arm before it reeled back, releasing with a sharp punch that caused a crack so loud it sent chills down Sawyer’s spine. He did, however, have the sense to grab Warren’s arm and yank him forward—at least enough to keep him from plummeting to his early death. “Alright, we need to cool it. Now.”

Lukas Okay, so, JJ's non-response didn't fucking settle Lukas' nerves at all. So instead he simply had to focus on the radio, the yelling all getting a little too fucking real for him real quickly. When he suggested moving, Lukas followed, though not without casting a glance over his shoulder to catch the argument getting more and more heated by the second. When a fist connected with Warren's face, Lukas was shocked. Not that Sebastian had hit someone, that was fairly predictable, but just at the whole fucking situation. " Yo, we gotta fucking get to someone before Gigantor fucking kills him. " He said, not bothering to hide the growing panic, turning back to JJ and continuing to follow him further up the hill. Using the ideal of not witnessing a death on top of all the trauma of surviving a plane crash to focus him on helping with the radio.

JJ He would have continued walking as he was and expecting everyone to fall in line. Once again, as per usual, he was let down by the sheer lack of ability some humans possessed to prioritise. Looking over his shoulder, he witnesses the argument, teasing and pinning had now gotten much too real and he'll stop in his tracks, passing the radio over to Lukas before heading back for the group. For the first time, he will approach Sebastian directly. His voice remains calm, almost quiet. "If you walk front of the line, you won't be able to hear the next thing coming out his mouth. Come on, radio is buzzing." he'll give Warren a look filled with pity, uncontrollably so and with the same tone he'll not even bother to check if the others head was still in place. "You walk the back of the line. Your leg is fucked enough." with a sigh, he'll look over at everyone else. "Everyone good? Can we keep moving?" they still had to reach the peak and walk all the way back before the sun sets. Otherwise, they might have just made a fatal mistake.

Warren Warren spat, a spatter of red and enamel on the ground when he did so. "Fuck..." Coughing, he gripped onto Sawyer to stay standing. He accidentally put weight on his bad foot in the middle of the chaos he'd started, so in addition to his mouth throbbing from the impact of Sebastian's fist, his leg now twinged with pain too. "He started it..." Warren had the audacity to say, holding onto to Sawyer a little tighter in anticipation for how Sebastian would react to that.

Sebastian Sebastian looked at the male with pure and utter disdain at how pathetic he looked and sounded. "-and I'll finish it too, don't think I won't," he barked in response, more than happy to give him another smack to even out the bruising on each side.

Callum Callum clapped a hand over Sebastian's shoulder. "Stop. C'mon, man." He was tired. He just wanted to get to the fucking peak like JJ said and try to reach out to someone. This shit, whatever was going on between Sebastian and Warren, it was a pointless waste of time.

Sawyer Normally, Sawyer liked to think of himself as the one with his head screwed on (somewhat) straight in times of disarray, but the calm coldness of JJ’s voice as he addressed the other boys was eerie—even to him. He stumbled a little as Warren shifted his weight into Sawyer’s side, looking down to see splatters of blood painted across his own white undershirt. Shit. He’d just bought this one for the trip, too. “Yeah, nah, JJ’s right. We’re done with all...this.”

Lukas The next couple seconds happen way too fast for Lukas to process in the moment. One second, he'd handed off the radio duty to JJ and the next JJ was successfully pulling the two that were fighting (if you could call what Warren was doing fighting back,) apart and seemingly ending the commotion. He was paused on the hill, watching it all unfold, but after a second another unintentional chuckle tumbled from his lips. " Are y'all done? " He called out to the group by the cliff, amusement on his tongue and shit eating grin back on his features as if he hadn't been scared shitless moments ago. " 'Cause we actually got fucking signal on this mother fucker, " He said enthusiastically, holding up the walkie in celebratory manner. A small and probably shit attempt to stop another fight from breaking out any second.

Sebastian Sebastian raised his hands, though there was a self-satisfied smugness coloring his features that made it obvious that he was pretty pleased with himself, despite the blood shed- or perhaps because of it. "I'm done," he announced plainly, happy for all things to be said and done as long as Warren didn't dare open his fat mouth again, at least for another half an hour or so. He wiped his hand on his shorts, whether it was spit or blood he didn't know, nor did he care, "So we're high enough to get a signal, now we need to find a better channel, right- is that what we're saying?"

Lukas Okay was it just Lukas or were he and Sebastian actually getting along? Nothing brings people together like almost murdering and almost witnessing murder. " Pretty much, " Lukas confirmed, though it was mainly just an assumption. His radio knowledge was still relatively basic, even after rebuilding this one with JJ. " We're gonna go a little higher, see if it can get any clearer. 'Cause while you guys were jacking each other off or whatever, " he had to make a joke, even dismissively, he couldn't actually acknowledge what he had just witnessed " I swear to God, this thing said something. " He insisted, though he hadn't actually caught what it had said in the moment.  " So let's go, " he said, turning on his heel and returning to the mission of getting a bit higher before anyone could get back to the murder.

Sawyer The snort that escaped Sawyer after Curly’s little dig was entirely involuntary, but also entirely deserved. He was just glad he didn’t have to be an accessory to murder today—that’d be a hard one to explain to his parole officer when he got home. With a final, mournful sigh for his dirtied, bloodied shirt, he chucked the thing off over his head and handed it to Warren. “For the bleeding, Bateman.” Sawyer clapped his hands together. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Warren "Thank you, Yeehaw." His lips pushed into whatever form of a smile he could manage. Warren bunched up the shirt and pressed it to his mouth, giving Sebastian a nasty glance as he did so.

Callum "Alright." Callum clapped his hands together, glad JJ was able to settle the commotion. "Let's fucking do this." He was more than ready to put this dumb shit behind them for the sake of accomplishing what they actually came to do today. He jogged up to Jort's side, wanting to be up close to the action in case the thing crackled to life again.

Lukas As the group continued up the hill, Lukas returned his attention to the radio. Turning it back on, he adjusts the antenna until he's satisfied with the static settling and speaks into the machine. " Mayday, mayday. This is Blue Barrowcliffe, one of fifteen survivors of flight Boeing 12596. Do you copy? " It felt completely silly to say he was Blue, the Canadian that looked literally nothing like his scrawny New Jerseyan self, but aside from JJ he didn't know if he could trust any of these guys with the radio. " I repeat, fifteen survivors of flight Boeing 12596, " he said the numbers slowly and clearly, if someone heard them the numbers would be their saving grace. " Do you copy? "

Sebastian Sebastian could hardly fucking believe that Jorts had actually managed to stick to the script, he'd nailed it. "Canadian- say you're Canadian," he reminded Lukas, waving his hand a little with encouragement as he listened carefully to the static on the other end of the radio device, praying that words in any language came from it- even one of the languages Von Trapp spoke would do. "Keep going," he insisted, his heart in his throat as he awaited a response from somebody with the potential to save their sorry asses.

Radio Lengthy static noises. "Ha-" Static noises. "Gehen-" Static noises. "Liest du-" Static noises. "-nächsten hafen." Static.

Sawyer The excitement was palpable now, eyes lighting up and heads perking with hope. Sawyer grasped the shoulder of the boy nearest to him and shook it, laughing. “Fuckin’ A, we got a fuckin’ German!”

Liam liam stood off to the side as everything went down. his hand flying up to over his own mouth as he watched the altercation between sebastian and warren, but the last thing he was going to do was step in between them and end up in the same position because sebastian redirects his rage to him. but finally lukas can get a message out. static and a few broken words that he couldn’t understand, heart sinking when sawyer announces that it’s a german. “does anyone know german?” he asks, looking around at the others.

Blue blue hadnt said much during the saga, other than an extremely confused "why the hell did i have to carry him" when warren zoomed into chaos at a speed blue's exhausted mind and body couldnt keep up to. he sat away from the drama, and while he would normally intervene to save morale but his body seemed glued to ground. hearing his name echoed by the others tothe radio, he imagined his parents and his sister, and a lump in his throat had to be swallowed down, tears avoided for now. as the confrontation got more violent, blue rested his head between his knees, fighting sleep or panic, the yelling and tension a little too intense of a reminder of...her. he resumed his role helping the injured, though more resentkful of helping mr instigator. "warren......youre swiss, eh? dont your people speak like swiss french and german? what'd they say, man?"

Lukas Lukas is about to tell Sebastian that he doesn't even sound Canadian, not even a little bit, and that saying he was would be kind of fucking stupid when the radio spattered to life in his hands. He looked down at it, amazed. After half a second of awe at his own handiwork he tried moving the antenna and pushed himself to move up the hill faster to help get rid of the static. Sawyer picked up on the language before he did and he glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the group. He sort of had his toes crossed for JJ to come through again, even if his behaviour was a little unsettling– but then Blue addressed the European. And while he was probably their best chance, Lukas wasn't feeling especially eager to let him have the radio again. " Anyone else? " He asked, looking around the group and avoiding the now toothless Nordic cripple. " Don't need to be fluent, just enough to say we need help. "

Dash Dash watched the entire shitshow with varying degrees of amusement and disturbance. Initially he didn’t see much point in following everyone up the hill, like, logically speaking, mostly because didn’t know jack about radios or distress signals or even their flight number. But he did want to be there if they made contact with anyone. So he ambled up near the back of the line, and spent the first few minutes of the hike looking at a cloud in the shape of Marge Simpson’s head, glad that Lukas and JJ seemed to have things covered on the radio front. Douchebag Callum was there too or whatever, he guessed, and Sebastian came through, even if he took his roid rage to the max and punched Eurotrash in the mug over a couple gay jokes. Dash’s lip curled at the blood spat out on the ground. He didn’t really vibe with all the sadistic shit, and he’d take bets that the little guy had half a chub through the whole thing. “Nein, bro,” Dash shook his head. He had maybe a handful of phrases in Spanish and Tagalog in his repertoire at max. And if any anxious fact stuck with him, it was that the battery was on its last legs, so he glanced toward JJ in hopes he could step in ASAP.  He reminded Dash of a guy he went to elementary school with who learned those wack languages from Lord of the Rings for fun and hid under desks to hiss at people as they walked by. Surely he knew some German. “American public schools kinda fell off with the whole foreign language thing.”

JJ As the radio went on, he tried his best to decipher what was being said. His German was rusty at best, mostly based on old philosophical texts he picked up at college. Extending his hand to get the radio back, he’ll rub the top of his brow as he recalls the words. “Hilfe, Hilfe! D-das ist Jacob Sanders. Fünfzehn Menschen am Leben. Privatflugzeug Boeing 12596 kaputt. Wir brauchen hilfe.” He knew the German was butchered, but he believed he’d said the most important things in the process. “Hallo? Kopierst du?” He’ll shift the radio around, trying his best to get the signal.

Warren Warren was tired. His mouth hurt. On top of losing a tooth, one other in his mouth felt loose and he hated it. He didn't really care that they'd made it to the peak, leaving the business of getting into contact with help to whoever had a hard-on for talking to strangers in the group – Mister Moley Man and the smart one. They seemed to have it figured out and he really needed to pee. Besides, with the space at the peak much smaller than where they were before and everyone so excited about it, he felt as though he'd be caught up through overhearing while he tried to take a piss where he was at the back of the group. He was halfway done with his leak when he heard German, making him turn on instinct and accidentally getting piss on shoes. "Agh, nein–" Two quick shakes and he pulled his track pants back up, hopping over to the front. With his bad leg, he had to touch some shoulders on the way so he wouldn't fall over. What the boys didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "Du sprichst Deutsch?" He asked the smart one as he hobbled up. Schlecht, but he left that in his head. Stretching out his hand, he opened and closed his fist a couple of times, asking for the device.

Sawyer Sawyer held up a finger and thumb. "S'German, actually."

Sebastian Sebastian rolled his eyes at the budding discourse, "Which is the same thing- moving on. What did they say?" he gathered the gist of what JJ had relayed back, he's a lesbian, the private flight number, uh whatever else- it didn't matter, Sebastian was pretty sure he'd pretty much stuck to the script. "Does that mean we're near Germany or a country that speaks German? What countries outside of Germany speak German?" he couldn't think of a single one that wasn't landlocked or anything but tropical- no freakin' way they were near Western Europe.

Sawyer Sawyer just looked at him like he felt even worse for him than he did when they found out his middle name was Claude. "Dude."

Dash Dash pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek to fight back a fleeting grin at Sawyer’s emphatic dude. “I dunno dick about who’s speaking German other than the Krauts, but could be a passing ship, right? Maybe we’re in international waters or some shit.”

JJ He looks at Warren and his eyes wonder for a moment if the other is genuinely fluent or just proceeding to be a more persistent human equivalent of hpv. “I speak limited amount.” he answers honestly as Sebastian proceeds to throw in a question which would by all metrics be considered dumb if it wasn’t somewhat valid. Before he can answer, Dash adds to it a more plausible explanation and he’ll nod. “German speaking countries are Germany, Austria, Belgium and Luxembourg. German is also an official language in Switzerland and Liechtenstein, but it sounds different. It is highly unlikely we’re close to any of those...” his eyes now on Dash. “It may very well be the case. Any other ideas?”

Liam watched as everyone silently as they freaked out over who may or may not speak german. his anxiety rising with each moment as their chances of rescue started to lessen the more they used up the battery of the radio. he stayed away from the group, off to the side and pulled out his tech deck out of his pocket and started spinning one of the wheels anxiously to try and calm himself down.

Sawyer "Maybe," Sawyer said, leaning in close to the other boys like he was about to tell a secret, "the operator's just bilingual."

Warren "I live in Switzerland, I speak German," he told JJ. To emphasize his point, he stretched out his hand more blatantly. "Give it to me. Or do you want to stay on this island forever?"

JJ Instinctively JJ will look over at Lukas as if to get some type of blessing or permission to pass the radio to the village idiot. Still, he didn’t have any real ownership of the thing so he stretched his hand out, anxiety rising. He was almost certain the other would either send off a message too ridiculous for the other end to decipher or fully throw the thing on the floor just to get his other leg broken and bleed out in the woods. “Go on then. Careful with the antenna...”

Joe Joe's initial relief at hearing a voice on the other side of the radio was dimming as Henry Bowsers but hopefully redeemable starting asking irrelevant questions that made no sense."Pinky's right it's probably a ship. There's no way there's no way there's a hermit nearby that just happens to hack into radio signals." Who the fuck still used radios besides sailors and boy wonder (not that JJ counted he seemed to have swallow an encyclopedia) ? Watching boy wonder hand over the walkietalkie to Warren was an extremely nerve wracking experience."Be careful Warren."

Lukas With only a couple Hebrew words along with his questionable at best English skills Lukas was mainly sitting this conversation out. If it could be called a conversation, mainly it just felt like a lot of bullshit but what else was new on this island. When Warren revealed he could speak German, and they all kind of knew that because of the song he'd sung on the way up the hill, Lukas had to grimace. It was their best chance, so he gave a small nod to JJ as it was passed over. " Remember, flight Boeing 12596. " Again he said the numbers slowly, fingers and toes crossed old gap tooth wouldnt fuck them all over.

Warren Finally, Warren thought as the radio came into contact with his hand. "Danke, wunderkind." That was so drawn out and dramatic. It's not like he's done anything crazy with the radio before. He hopped over and lifted a hand, swatting it in the group's general direction to settle their apparent nerves. Then he pressed the transmit button spoke. "Ja hallo? Kannst du mich hören? Wir sind auf einer Insel gestrandet. Wir brauchen deine Hilfe."

Radio Static noises. "kannst du-" Static noises.

Lukas It's like watching a toddler handle a bomb, Lukas is just waiting for it to fuck them all up big time. But somehow, it doesn't. Not yet at least. He doesn't hear anything that sounds like numbers come out of Warren's mouth but he also knew literally no German at all. When the radio responded he raised his brows, as if the two words the voice said could possibly mean anything useful. " What's going on? Do we need to go higher still? " He asked, because he was like 65% certain the voice had been cut off by the static.

Warren For once, Warren was invested. He shook the walkie slightly and held it against his ear. Then he spoke into it again, thumb on the transmit button. "Ja? Hallo? Hallo? Kannst du mich hören?" He hopped forward a little, perhaps needing to get a little higher. "Yeah, I think so," he answered Lukas. It was a shame. They were at the peak already. But the edge had a slight lift so Warren was going to take the chance. "Hallo?" He tried again. He heard some static, some response in German before the walkie went dead suddenly. "Shit." He shook the thing. Perhaps a little too vigorously. "Hallo??" He turned on the foot he was balancing. "I think it– Ahh!" The ground beneath him crumbled. Warren slipped. Quickly, he used grabbed onto whatever of the edge he could, releasing the walkie from his grasp to do. "Help! Help!"

Sebastian Sebastian had his arms folded tightly across his chest to keep them at bay as he listened to the chatted shift from person to person. It seemed as if everybody had something to say but nobody was saying anything useful to the situation. "We might just be in a dead zone, I mean look at this place- who knows where the next tower is," he explained, worried that there wouldn't be another radio tower or any man-made structure for hundreds and hundreds of miles from where they stood. He heard the crumbling rock before he truly registered what had happened and as the walkie hit the ground, Sebastian reacted to try and catch it, though his efforts were thwarted at the last moment, his attention divided by Warren's shrieking. "Fuck, Warren!" the words spilled from his mouth as he stumbled as close to the edge of the cliff as he could without risking another rockfall. "Bro-" he looked back at the other guys over his shoulder, "What the fuck- do something!" he practically squealed.

Lukas When Warren moved past the bulk of the group, so did Lukas. Eyes on that radio. He really did not think he was gonna care so much about it. " Hey! " He reacted when Warren fucking shook the thing, as if it wasn't already fucking precarious. Moving towards him, more to take the radio off him than pull him away from the edge of the cliff– but then the fucking dude took a dive off it. " Holy shit, " Lukas moved quickly when he fell, he thought he cared about the radio but he didn't even notice Warren had dropped it yet. Instead falling to his knees, scraping skin since the alterations he'd made that morning. Leaning over the edge he reached out his hand to Warren, holding onto stable ground as best as he could, but he was still a fraction too far away. " Grab my fucking hand, dude! "

Sawyer "Fuck-" Disaster struck in such quick succession: the radio, the crumbling peak, Warren--Sawyer's heart fell to his stomach with such force, he felt like he was about to shit it out of his asshole. He raced to the edge of the cliff, grabbing onto Lukas's free arm. "Pull him up, I'll anchor you!"

Sebastian Sebastian's breath caught in his lungs at the sight. Ten minutes ago he'd wanted to slay Warren where he stood and now, the thought of the other male plummeting to his death right before him made Sebastian want to throw up. "Grab his arm, grab each other's arms, lock in," he insisted, certain that Jorts' clammy ass hands were going to just help Warren fall to his death quicker than ever. "Fuck it- grab me," he insisted, wiping his hand and arm on his shirt before grabbing Warren's forearm firmly.

JJ All he could think about was the exact impossibility of seeing the radio again and for a second he thought about stepping on Warrens hand to push him off with it. As he paused to think, the others jumped to help, and he offered a hand to yeh guys as they moved into action. The stability of the cliff was unknown at this point and a dangerous place to be placing weight so he tried his best to focus on the situation at hand as opposed to possible catastrophe.

Warren Sebastian? Sebastian wanted to help him? Warren knew now wasn't the time to be picky. Beggars couldn't be choosers after all when their arms were aching and they were hanging off a cliff. He pictured his 8th grade English teacher's cleavage one last time before throwing all caution to the wind and letting go of his grip on the ledge to hold onto to Sebastian's arm for dear life.

Sawyer The harder Sebastian pulled, the more unstable the ground became. Sawyer's pulse rocketed, heartbeat thundering in his ears as earth crumbled from the very edges of the cliff Warren was dangling from. He whipped around to face the rest of the group--all frozen in various stages of shock and panic--eyes wild: "Guys--"

Dash Dash saw it all happen in slow motion. Warren turned on his foot, then plummeted. One second he was there and in the next he was dangling from the edge like some kind of Wiley Coyote bit. Dash stood frozen, panic seizing his chest. In what world was he equipped for this shit? “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked no one particular, his voice inching up high and reedy with shaky incredulity. He watched as Sebastian, then Lukas, and finally JJ leapt forward to help. “What the cucking shitfuck this is so fucking fucked.” It was Sawyer’s panicky voice that made him take a step forward, half-wondering if he ought to grab a hold of the back of Lukas’ shirt as some kind of useless backup for a second before he finally did it. “Guys — Jesus, the whole thing’s gonna come down.” But what was the alternative? Letting Warren eat shit and die?

Lukas Lukas was willing to admit (to himself) he was fucking grateful Gigantor joined him on the edge of the cliff. Lukas Skinny Arms Tozer was gonna have no hope of pulling Warren up on his own though he actually hadn't thought of that in the moment. He thought he nearly felt his stomach fall out his asshole when Warren made the move to cling to Sebastian's arm. Feeling a tightness on the back of his shirt he took that as a cue to move again, pushing himself back up, on his feet but still crouched by Sebastian and the dangling Swiss. Glancing over his shoulder to see it was Dash that pulled him up, see Lukas knew he got good vibes off that dude. He'd give a proper thanks later but for now he gave an out of breath nod before he looked back to Sebastian. " You got him? " He asked, barely allowing time for an answer before he's looking back to Dash, Sawyer and anyone else that was braving the cliff edge. " Let's pull them up. " He said, trying not to think about the the precarious cliff face everyone was so desperate to point out.

Callum This was all too fucking insane. How was Warren in a near death situation for the second time that day? Not wanting to deal with a dead body on top of trying to survive on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere, Callum dove headfirst into the chaos, grabbing onto Dash to give him support because there was no way this skinny fucker could realistically help Warren, Sebastian and Jorts. "Pull 'em up, pull 'em up!" He urged, mentally preparing himself for the energy he was about to exert.

Dash Dash nodded back once toward Lukas and if his thoughts weren’t too preoccupied with the fact that they were all surely about to plummet to their deaths, he might’ve twisted around and mocked Callum’s deep, booming pUlL ‘eM uP pUlL ‘eM uP to his face. The guy’s hand gripped tightly to Dash’s arm though, pretty effectively making extra sure to keep that petty, poorly timed instinct in check—and probably ensuring that he didn’t full-on Kermit over the edge of the cliff, too. Fuckin’ jocks. Dash gritted his teeth; he didn’t know if it was in his head or not, but the ground felt shaky under his feet. He dug his heels in and used his other hand to grab hold of Lukas’ arm to create some kind of human chain, his breath coming fast and shallow, and did his damned best to keep their skulls intact.

Sebastian Sebastian's heart was in his throat as Warren grabbed onto his arms, his grip pinching the skin though he was far, far too drenched in adrenaline to notice the pain. "Come on, come on," he bellowed, urging the other boys to give it all they had, lest both he and Warren tumble over the edge and into the rocky waters below. At least it would be a quick death, he supposed.

JJ Several things have happened in a span of seconds that JJ could not process. First, Warren hanging off a suspiciously strong cliff. Second, Sebastian of all people putting his ass on the like to save the other. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. If maybe all the years of shit sleep had caught up to him and he was now stuck in some hallucination limbo making shit up. Either way, he didn’t say anything, he balanced his weight and pulled onto the guy in front of him and prayed to God and Saints and whoever might have been listening, for this to be over soon. — He was still pissed about the radio, pissed that he’d even passed it to the other, pissed that there was no way now to make his phone work either. Not without the parts he used for the antenna.

Liam liam watched in horror as warren grabbed the radio, babbling into it before eventually stepping off the cliff. in the split second between him falling and everyone snapping into action, liam actually though he had falling to his death. and with most things since the crash, he froze yet again. but a second later, he shoved his toy back into his pocket and ran over to everyone else. which he later realized was a bad idea because pain was shooting up his leg as he grabbed on to one of the other guys to help pull the kid up. thankfully the stress of it all, he was able to ignore his own leg and focus on getting warren back on to solid ground.

Blue everything appeared to blue in flashes, the group heading up the cliff, and the chaos when the cliff crumbled. he watched the other spring into action, and took a deep breath to pump himself up. "Get him! Is he okay" He pulled on whatever body parts or clothes he could to help the others, blue felt the solidarity that he felt with his teammates back home. "Is the radio grabbable?" he was sweating, panting, and the desperation was coursing through everyone it seemed. "Save warren. Get the radio. Save Warren. Get the radio." He chanted to himself, pulling along with the rest of the group. "Save. Warren. Get. The. Radio."

Warren With everyone pitching in to help him, it seemed that Warren would live to see another day. His body was yanked up and onto solid ground again thanks to the efforts of Arsch mit Ohren and the rest of the boys hanging onto him. The second he felt firm rock below him, he wriggled as best he as he could past the boys to further in, wanting desperately to put as much distance between himself and ledge as possible. When he felt it was safe, he dropped to the ground and rolled onto his back to stare at the orange sky above. "Heilige Scheiß..." He was breathless, chest heaving up and down rapidly. Never in his life has he felt such a rush. It was a terrible thing to think about but he wondered how much 'near death experiences' would sell for. Thrill seekers like him would surely pay a hefty price. What Warren really should have been thinking about though was the radio, and how it was no longer in his hand and probably in a million little pieces hundreds of feet below them or lost to the waves of the ocean. He had yet to recall the reality he and the boys were in and how dire it was that they got into contact with someone.

Sawyer Sawyer fell back with the rest of the boys into a sweaty, adrenaline-clouded heap, wincing at the harsh impact of solid rock against his elbow. Nobody dared speak for those first fragile seconds, as though the silence was a crumbling cliff and puncturing it with words would cause it all to come tumbling down. This wasn't a game anymore. The isle was no longer a midpoint in their journey, a pit stop on the way to a boys' retreat in Hawaii; it was a living, breathing thing, with the power to swallow any of them whole at a moment's notice. He rolled to his side, dog tags clinking together as he let out a shaky breath: "the radio...fuck are we gonna do now without the radio?"

JJ He falls back and for a moment he just sits there in silence with the rest of them. He will then get back to his feet, wipe his hands and dust his trousers and look over at Sawyer having considered the exact question throughout the conundrum. “Nothing to do. It’s gone, it’s done.” all they could do now is hope that the Germans or whoever the fuck, heard their message and was on the way. Regardless, the sun began to set so he pointed towards the downhill path. “We should head back before it gets dark...”

Lukas Relief of not having to witness Warren's death washed over him, for the second time that day. But it only lasted a moment. Pulling himself free of the cluster of boys that had pulled him back up off the cliff face, he moved back towards the edge, looking over it in hopes of seeing the walkie on a ledge or something. Perfectly in tact and working a dream, ideally. But nothing. All that fucking hard work, and for fucking nothing. He turns back to the group, eyes landing on the culprit and any relief that he was alive long gone. " You fucking moron, fuck's sake, " If Warren had managed to stand before Lukas turned around, he absolutely would have shoved the bastard. Not over the cliff, but at least back to the ground. Seeing as he was still down, Lukas tried to not let the anger build. JJ, who with each passing moment seemed to be closer and closer to having the emotional complexity of Chucky the fucking Doll, made a good point. They should head back before it gets dark. Seeing as he was already up, he offered his hand to help up the guy closest to him (and who was not Warren).

Blue blue accepted lukas' hand, grateful for any assistance the guys had to give. "thank you." his tone was somber, torn between gratitude for jort's work with the radio, and like the others devastation for what they lost. "im sorry." a reflex more than a habit, a conditioning she taught him. the thought of spending another night was unappealing, and with each hour the fantasy of this being a camping trip was disappearing. he moved towards the front of the group. "alright, we did good. I know this wasnt the outcome we wanted, but their was some macgyver inspector gadget shit that was amazing...and out teamwork pulling a man up. Thats the kind of trust we gotta lean into......carry the injured and lets head back. Warren, when your concussion or whatever gets better, we NEED you to tell us what they said."

Dash Gravity proved itself to be a bitch not once, but twice. Warren luckily managed to get back up from the side of the cliff face, but once the tension of holding tightly and pulling released, Dash fell back and into Paul fuckin’ Bunyan behind him. Even with the air knocked out of lungs, he managed to release a hybrid relieved-slash-disbelieving laugh after a moment's silence when any rescue mission for the radio was declared null and void. Because what the fuck. He hoped his elbow at least got one of Callum’s soft spots as he struggled to his feet, clasping onto Lukas’ hand as soon as he let go of Blue’s. “Well that was a total shitshow.” And like, who knew what the lederhosen-looking dickhead was telling the Fuehrer over the line? The u-boats could’ve been well on their way to haul them to some undisclosed lab by morning. He cracked the knuckles of his right hand, his limbs left a little shaky post-adrenaline rush, and shook his head. With a sharp exhale, he edged away from the sudden drop. His heart racketed just looking where Warren had been clinging on. “Yeah, yeah, down before dark, but what’s the punishment for the high crime of nuking what was probably our one chance at direct communication, man?” In a half-assed attempt at fairness, he tacked on: “I know he didn’t like, spike it on purpose here, but.” Cue: womp womp. “Be real. Are we or are we not totally fucked?”

JJ The corner of his lip lifts slightly as Dash asks what the punishment is for the accidental crime of losing their best chance out of this Island. It’s not that he found it particularly amusing, it’s just that he thought punishment was rather obvious. “The punishment is being stuck here.” He will reply simply. “What impacts one of us - impacts us all.” It’s time we start acting like it, he thinks as he shoots a look towards Warren and Sebastian and then down to his hands. “One fucks up, we all fucked up.” Trying to remain positive he will face Dash and start walking further from the edge of the cliff. “Perhaps whoever’s on the other side has got our message. We’ve only been here for little over a day so it’s also possible the search party separate from the radio is underway. We should stick to the beach for now, keep the fire going...as of right now —“ with the radio gone “it’s the best option.”

[davidmann95]

Superman & Lois Pilot Script Review

I’ve been reliably informed that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and indeed as my laptop and everything on it have been unusable for a couple months after a mishap, I went from ‘maybe I’ll write something on the pilot script for Superman & Lois’ to ‘as soon as I can get my hands back on that thing I’m writing something up’. I’m actually surprised none of you folks asked about it when I’ve mentioned several times that I read it; I was initially hesitant, but I’ve seen folks discussing plot details on Twitter and their reactions on here, so I guess WB isn’t making much of a thing out of it. Entire pilots have leaked before and they just rolled with it, so I suppose that isn’t surprising. Anyway, the show’s been pushed back to next year, and also the world is literally sick and metaphorically (and also a little literally) on fire, so I thought this might be fun if anyone needs a break from abject horror. 

(Speaking of the world being on fire: while trying to offer a diversion amidst said blaze, still gonna pause for the moment to add to the chorus that if opening your wallet is a thing you can do, now most especially is a time to do it. I chipped in myself to the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, and even a casual look around here or Twitter will show people listing plenty of other organizations that need support.)

What I saw floating around was, if not a first draft, certainly not the final one given Elizabeth Tulloch later shared a photo of the cover for the final script crediting Lee Toland Krieger as the director rather than a TBD, but the shape of things is clearly in place. I’m going for a relative minimum of spoilers, though I’ll discuss a bit of the basic status quo the show sets up and vaguely touch on a few plot points, but if you want a simple response without risk of any story details: it’s very, very good. Clunky in the way the CW DC shows typically are, and some aspects I’m not going to be able to judge until the story plays out further, but it’s engaging, satisfying, and moreover feels like it Gets It more broadly than any other mass-media Superman adaptation to date.

The Good

* The big one, the pillar on which all else rests: this understands Lois and it really understands Clark. Lois isn’t at the center of the pilot’s arc, but she’s everything you want to see that character be - incisive, caring, and refusing to operate at less than 110% intensity with whatever she’s dealing with at any given time, the objections of others be damned. Clark meanwhile is a good-natured, good-humored dude who you can see in both the cape and the glasses even as those identities remain distinct, who’s still wrestling with his feelings of alienation and duty and how those now reflect his relationships with his children. The title characters both feel fully-formed and true to what historically tends to work best with them from day one here in ways I can’t especially say for any other movie or show they’ve starred in.

* While the suit takes a back seat for this particular episode, when Superman does show up in the opening and climax it absolutely knows how to get us to cheer for him; there’s more than one ‘hell yeah, it’s SUPERMAN, that guy’s the best!’ moment, and they pop.

* While the superheroics aren’t the biggest focus here, when they do arrive, the plan seems to be that they’ll be operating on an entirely different scale than the rest of the Arrowverse lineup. Maybe they scripted the ideal and’ll be pared-down come time for actual filming and effects work, or maybe they’re going all-out for the pilot, but the initial vision involves a massive super-rescue and a widescreen brawl that goes way, way bigger in scope than any I’m aware of on the likes of Supergirl. I heard in passing on Twitter from someone claiming to be in the know that the plan for Superman & Lois is that it’ll be fewer episodes with a higher budget, more in line with the DC Universe stuff if not exactly HBO Max ‘prestige TV’, and whether it’s true or not (I think it’s plausible, the potential ratings here are exponentially higher than anything else on the network so they’d want to put their best foot forward) they seem to be writing it as if that’s the idea.

* This balances its tones and ambitions excellently: it’s a Kent-Lane family drama, it’s Lois digging in with some investigative reporting to set up a major subplot, it’s Superman saving Metropolis and battling a powerful high-concept villain, and none of it feels like it’s banging up at awkward angles with the rest. There are a pair of throwaway lines in here so grim I can’t believe they were put in a script for a Superman TV show even if they don’t make it to air, and they in no way undermine the exhilaration once he puts on the cape or the warmth that pervades much of it. This feels as if it’s laying the groundwork for a Superman show that can tackle just about any sort of story with the character rather than planing its feet in one corner and declaring a niche, and so far it looks like it has the juice to pull it off.

* While the pilot doesn’t focus on him in the same way as the new kid, Jonathan Kent fits well enough for my tastes with the broad strokes of his personality from the comics, albeit if he had made it to 14 rather than 10 without learning about his dad being Superman. A pleasant, kinda dopey, well-meaning Superman Jr. - the biggest deviation, one I approve of, is that he can also kinda be a gleeful little shit when dealing with his brother in ways that remind you that this is very much also Lois Lane’s boy.

* We don’t know much about the season villain as of yet, but it’s an incredibly cool idea that I’m shocked that they’re going for right away, and I absolutely want to see how they play out as a character and how they’ll bounce off all the other major players.

* The way this seems to be framing itself in relation to the Superman movies and shows before it feels inspired to me: there are homages and shout-outs to and bits of conceptual scaffolding from Lois & Clark, Smallville, Donner, and more, but they’re all shown in ways that make it clear that those stories are part of his past rather than indicators of the baseline he’s currently operating off of. We get a retrospective of his and Lois’s history right off the bat with most of what you’d expect, and combined with those references the message is clear: this is a Superman who’s been through all the vague memories that you, prospective casual viewer, have of the other stuff you saw him in once upon a time, but this series begins the next phase of his life after what that general cultural impression of him to date covers. It strikes me as a good way of carrying over the goodwill of that nostalgia and iconography, while building in that this is a show with room to grow him beyond that into something more nuanced (and for that matter true to the character as the comics at their best have depicted him) than they tended towards. Where Superman Returns attempted to recapture the lightning in a bottle of an earlier vision of him in full, and Man of Steel tried to turn its back on anything that smelled of Old and Busted and Uncool entirely, perhaps this splitting of the difference - engaging with his pop culture history and visibly taking what appealed from some of those well-known takes, while also drawing a clear line in the sand between those as the past and this as the future - is what will finally engage audiences.

The Bad

* This is the sort of thing you have to roll with for a CW superhero show, and that lives and dies by the performances, but: the dialogue varies heavily. There are some really poignant moments, but elsewhere this is where it shows its early-draftiness; a decent amount is typical Whedon-poisoned quippiness or achingly blunt, and some of the ‘hey, we’re down with the kids!’ material for Jon, Jor, and Lana’s kid Sarah is outright agonizing. I suspect a lot of it will be fixed in minor edits, actor delivery, and hopefully the younger performers taking a brutal red pen to some of their material - this was written last January and the show’s now not debuting until next January, they’ve got plenty of time for cleanup - but if this sort of the thing has been a barrier to entry for you in the past with the likes of The Flash, this probably won’t be what changes your mind.

* There are a few charming shout-outs to other shows, but much moreso, Superman & Lois actually builds in a big way out of Crisis. Which is a-okay with me, except that what exactly that was is rather poorly conveyed given that lots of people will be giving this a spin with no familiarity with that. Fixable with a line or two, but important enough to be worth noting.

Have to wait and see how it plays out

* The series’ new kid, Jordan Kent, is so far promising with potential to veer badly off-course. He’s explicitly dealing with mental illness, and not on great terms with Clark at the beginning in spite of the latter’s best efforts, the notion of which I’m sure will immediately put some off. Ultimately the commonalities between father and son become clear, and he’s not written as a caricature in this opening but as a kid with some problems who’s still visibly his parents’ boy, but obviously the ball could be fumbled here in the long term.

* Lois’s dad is portrayed almost completely differently here than in the past in spite of technically still being her military dad who has some disagreements with her husband. There are some nice moments and interesting new angles but it seems possible that the groudwork is being laid for him to be Clark’s guy in the chair, and not only does he not need that he most DEFINITELY doesn’t need that to be a member of the U.S. Military, especially when one of the first and best decisions Supergirl made when introducing him was to make clear he had stopped working with the government any more than necessary years ago. Maybe it can be stretched if his dad-in-law occasionally calls him up to let him know about a new threat he’s learned about, and maybe they’ll even do something really interesting with that push-and-pull, but if Superman’s going to be even tacitly functioning as an extension of the military that’s going to be a foundational sin.

* As I was nervous about, Superman & Lois has some political flavor, but much to my delighted surprise, there’s no grossly out of touch hedge-betting in the way I understand Supergirl has gone for at times. As of the pilot, this is an explicitly leftie show, with the overarching threat of the season as established for Lois and Clark as reporters being how corporate America has stripmined towns like Smallville and manipulated blue collar workers into selling out their own best interests. Could that go wrong? Totally, there’s already an effort to establish a particular prominent right-wing asshole as capable of decency - without as of yet downplaying that he’s a genuinely shitty dude - and vague hints that some of the towns’ woes might be rooted more in Superman-type problems than Lois and Clark problems. But that they’re going for it this directly in the first place leaves me hopeful that the show won’t completely chicken out even if there’ll probably be a monster in the mix pulling a string or two; Greg Pak and Aaron Kuder’s Action Comics may justify Superman punching a cop by having him turn out to be a shadow monster so as to get past editorial, but it’s still a story about how sometimes Superman’s gotta punch a cop, and hopefully this can carry on in that spirit of using what wiggle room it has to the best of its ability.

So, so far so good. Could it end up a show with severe problems carried on the backs of Hoechlin and Tulloch’s performances? Absolutely. But thus far, the ingredients are there for all its potential problems to be either fixed, subverted, or dodged alright, and even when it surely fumbles the ball at junctures, I earnestly believe this is setting itself up to be the most fleshed-out, nuanced, engaging live-action take on these characters to date. And god willing, if so, the first real stepping stone in decades to proper rehab on Superman’s image and place in pop culture.

[eeyore101247]

Some Sneak Peeks!!!!!

Here are those sneak peeks! Most of these haven’t been edited or even finished yet, so it can change when the final product is posted! Enjoy!!!!~

Sneak peeks under the cut!

My Love Through the Years (Peter Parker x Reader)

It started back in high school, freshman year.

You were the odd one out, the loner some may call it. You weren’t attractive according to the popular kid dress code. You wore glasses, lenses thick as you were pretty much blind without them, teeth covered in braces. Your hair was long, too long in your opinion, but you rarely could afford a haircut. Your clothes were baggy as they hung off your frame, wearing mostly boys or men’s clothing since they were cheaper. You wore the same black converse, the material faded and beat up from wear, having duct taped the sole of the shoe in place.

My Model (Tom Holland x Reader)

You paced around your apartment, body buzzing with nervous energy as you waited. You didn’t know why you had asked him to do this with how you felt about him, but you were desperate. Your photography finals were coming up, and none of your friends were available except Tom, the guy you’ve been crushing on since before he became Spider-Man. You kept it to yourself as best you could, but your mutual friend Harrison had picked up on it. Maybe it was the longing stares when Tom wasn’t looking, or the way you laughed at all of his jokes.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a loud knock, heart racing in your chest as there was only one person it could be. Swallowing down your nerves, you made your way over to the door, your dog Tsuki already standing there with her tail wagging. You could hear the sound of claws on the other side of the door, excited whines and hushed words coming through the wood. With one final breath, you opened the door, smile plastered on your face.

“Hey! Thanks for coming over so last minute. I couldn’t find anyone else who could do this and I know you’re so incredibly busy, so thank you.” You rambled, nerves returning full force as Tom now stood in front of you. He ran his fingers through his chestnut locks with a chuckle, letting go of Tessa’s leash as her and Tsuki ran off chasing each other. 

Skin Tight Lycra Suit (Peter Parker x Reader)

God that suit was going to be the death of you.

You were sprawled across your bed in your dorm room as you watched the most recent news coverage of Spider-Man’s most recent triumph. Your boyfriend, Peter, had gone out for patrol several hours earlier, the red and black suit hugging his body just right. You couldn’t get the image of his thighs in the skin tight fabric out of your head, your mind coming up with all sorts of rather erotic scenarios of him in the suit and out of the suit. It didn’t really leave much to the imagination, especially when he was aroused. 

Her Curse Chapter 3 (Mob!Tom Holland x Reader)

"I heard what you two were talking about and 'that other girl' is my friend. Her name is Sarah, and if you dare touch a hair on her head, you'll wake up to the agonizing pain of having every bone in your hands broken." You stated, glaring up at the man. He started to laugh at your threat, causing you to grit my teeth again.

You turned around towards Tom, glaring at him. "That goes for you too, asshole. I'm not scared of you mobsters and your guns." You crossed your arms over your chest, letting out a huff as you walked past Harrison and down the hall. "And if you get the balls to actually get to know your soulmate, Tom, you know where to find me."

Apocalytpic Cabin Vacation (Apocalypse!Tom Holland x Reader)

You let out a happy sigh as you stepped into the cabin, your lips pulling up into a smile as you took in the decor. It was old but homey feelings, everything covered in a fine layer of dirt and dust, but you didn’t mind. You had quickly learned to live with the dirt when the apocalypse started, so little dust was nothing. 

You moved further inside as Tom stepped in behind you, shutting and locking the door. You readjusted your bag hanging off your shoulder, further exploring the place that would be your home for the next week. You admired the fix up job Harrison and the twins had done, taking note that they had already boarded up all the windows and stocked the cabinets with food. 

“Haz said the bedroom is in the basement so, and I quote, ‘the zombies don’t hear us fucking like rabbits.’” Tom said with a chuckle as he walked into the kitchen, bags hanging off his shoulder and back. You rolled your eyes as you looked at him, lips pulling up into a smirk.

“I mean, it is pretty hard to be intimate while running a little community like we have. That’s why we’re taking this little vacation.” You said with a smile, walking over to him and taking his hand in yours. You laced your fingers together, smiling up at him as he chuckled again, shaking his head.

“Come on, let’s get unpacked.” He said softly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling you along behind him. He led you down into the basement, hitting the light switch on the way. The lights flickered on, dimly lighting up the space that was your makeshift bedroom. You looked around with a grin as Tom led you over to the bed, letting go of your hand to start setting down the bags.

AN: I hope you enjoyed these little sneak peeks! Let me know what you are most excited for!

Thanks for reading!

~ LoLo *^-^*

My Beautiful Mutuals:  @spidey-waffles11 @parkerpuffwrites @unholyhaz @starlight-fires @marvelrreigns @softspideyboy @tyemmamarvel @harringtonsholland @marichatisfam @mybabyboytony @ptersparkers @mlt2000 @loveme-hollandx @starenemy @devin-marie @hollandsosterfield @saysomethingspiderman @moonstruckholland @hazssouthernbelle @spideyboipete @neverlandparker @rescue3000 @myspideysensetingling @its-the-unknownspidey @parkeret @osterfield-holland-andcompany @heyhihellowhatsup0 @holland-aisesauce @thollandss @beautifullydisconnected 

[roseduroi]

a Film by Peter Parker 2

This is so not what I usually write but I saw this post by @peachyhollands 

[this is basically a summary]

i feel like someone has already said this but what if spider-man: far from home started (or ended) with “a film by peter parker 2” and it’s him documenting like the space ship and showing us titan then at the end it’s just static then it cuts to tony (who found the footage and edited it) and he stares into the camera and says “i’m sorry kid”

And I just really had to write it off my chest.

English isn’t my native language, I’m so sorry for the mistakes.

a Film by Peter Parker 2

The white letters fade and the black screen slowly turns into a fresh New York view. The view shakes as if one holding the camera is swinging from one building to another, but that’s how it really is. It stops at a sight of a giant round spaceship and there’s a small inhalation of air and astonishment behind the camera following soon after.  

“That’s one of a hell big spaceship!” The lens zooms in, taking in all the details even as the view is blurry for the spaceship took all the space of the screen. But then just as out of nowhere as before, the view is back to normal as it’s suddenly shifted to the left and it fluctuates that way for a moment or two before it’s dropped to the ground with a perfect angle to view. 

There’s Mr Stark in the air in his Iron Man suit. He circles a giant lizard-look-alike monster with a weapon bigger than its head and armour covering its body; he shoots the monster a few times but fails to notice a hit coming down his way and is knocked to the ground right on his belly. Iron Man grunts from the sudden impact he hadn’t been expecting and struggles to get up, but the creature doesn’t wait and strikes its weapon towards Stark to finish what was started.

But an abrupt force stops the attack, startling the lizard-look-alike which freezes in its posture. Iron Man jolts his head to see what’s going on, rolling onto his side. “Hey, man,” Spider-Man nods to the creature before he greets his mentor. “What’s up, Mr Stark?”

“Kid, where’d you come from?” Tony leans on his elbows, his voice out of breath – he’s surprised, but there’s always a hint of worry in the way he words his mind when it comes to the kid.

“A field trip to MOMA;“ Peter’s voice gets higher as a hand roughly wraps itself around his waist and throws him away to the front, out of the camera’s view. A crash and groan of pain can be heard and Tony’s head seen following the kid’s landing as the lens is still focused on him and lizard-look-alike.

Iron Man shoots again and again; using the opportunity that the creature’s distracted. There’s a THWIP sound once then twice and Peter’s heard saying: “What is this guy’s problem, Mr Stark?”

“He's from space. He came here to steal a necklace from a wizard.” Tony explains and Spider-Man grunts again as he’s caught and tossed into the trees.

The camera view almost never changes, sometimes it slightly moves when the ground shakes underneath but never is it taken or noticed by one’s eyes. There’re more punches and more impacts, grunts, and groans of pain, and even more talking. Then there’s silence, lack of movements, actions, and changes until finally there’s nothing but darkness.

The video ends.

-

Peter throws the camera away from himself like it’d burned his hands. It lands on the ground, it cracks and it slides few more inches further from him. Good. He thinks. Let it be broken. 

He is angry.

He is lost.

He is broken.

And it only hurts. He can’t eat; he can’t sleep; he can’t breathe without feeling the hurt in his lungs. He inhales but knows he shouldn’t. It’s not his to breathe anymore; he shouldn’t feel the air fill his lungs and the heartbeat in his chest. 

His muscles are sore; his feet are aching and lungs burning with fire. Bruises linger on his battered body longer than normal. Peter tugs on his hair; he pulls on it hard, because he’s angry, lost and feels broken. He is weak and doesn’t know how to get up.

He sits on his bed, it’s uncomfortable and too soft, his head is in his hands and he feels like carrying the world is easier than this. He waits but does not know what for.

Everybody keeps telling him everything will fall to its places; time will take care of the wounds and he will heal. Baby steps; he knows they’re trying – his Aunt, Pepper, even Happy! They give him a small pep talk; say how much he would be [is] proud. Tell him their arms are always open ‘just come and lay your heart open to’

What goes after ‘to’ is always left wordless;

Sometimes Peter feels better when he’s distracted and the air no longer burns his lungs when he inhales. When he puts on his mask and flies out of the window, while his body’s still aching and muscles still sore, there’s no hurt that he actually feels. It’s spontaneous, and he would say reckless, but it gives Peter relief. And if recklessness is all it takes to forget, so let it be it.

He’d rather forget.

So some days he feels better and smiles to the world. It never took much to fool it at all. He puts on a mask but never faces the truth. How can he, when he is six feet under?

But even the mask fails to do its task.

It’s always the small things that hit the hardest;

Peter would be walking the old lady down the street or rescuing the kitten from a super tall tree when he’d feel the sting in his eyes. He’d be talking to Ned or eating with May who had insisted they went out and he’d see the world mourning. He’d pull out his phone to tell about his day or send that funny meme he found on the internet that morning only to realize that he couldn’t even do that anymore.        

Peter wonders if it can hurt more, but never dares to question it; the answer is simple.

He’s been through so much, he lost his parents, he lost Ben, and he lost so much already that it’d seem it couldn’t hurt worse because things had been falling back to its places after already so much time of it being broken. Peter had settled down with May and learned to live with the loss... they both had. Then the bite happened – the spider bit him and suddenly he came into his life and flipped it all around.  

Peter didn’t need to look away from that boy watching the game with his dad without feeling jealousy, that green monster creeping up in his chest anymore. Peter didn’t need to feel his heart aching when Ned talked about that cool stuff he did with his dad. Peter didn’t need to watch stupid YouTube tutorials on how to shave [and to do things fathers taught their sons] because he had him and for once in his life, Peter really felt like he wasn’t really missing out.

But now he’s gone too.

Why give and then take? Is it more fun? To see someone get back on their feet, spot gloss of hope in their eyes and then break them once more? To see if this time they didn’t get up as their eyes dulled and never shone more?

Peter almost laughed that cold, heartless laugh as his whole body shook, his head still in his hands and tugging on his hair from anger and perhaps desperation. He wouldn’t understand why Bruce would give him back the camera that holds the painful memories Peter never wants to unfold. But he had insisted and made Peter promise he would watch it till the very end.

He did, and so what? Did Bruce want him to look back at what’s already happened, what was going inevitably happen? What no one knew was coming and what? Make him feel more helpless, guiltier? What’s the point to watch it again and again and again and know what will happen and never have a chance to prevent it, to change it, but suffer knowing the truth? he’s gone 

Peter growls.

Tony Stark is. dead. And the world mourns because they’ve lost their best defender. Iron Man is dead because he was never good enough to save him. Because he wasn’t fast enough to stop him. He was supposed to be six feet under.

Peter pulls his hair harder, squeezes his eyes shut. Everything aches, everything hurts, everything is falling apart. The noises, the cracks, the bustle; it’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to focus, it’s ringing in his ears... Make it stop, make it stop... it’s too much, too much, it’s –

“Hi, kid.”

Gone

The kid’s breath hitches. His body goes numb, his face pales and he stills, his heart hammers in his chest. Peter’s arms fall to his sides, but he doesn’t look up – he lets out a shaky breath.  Then silence.

“You know, your camera was in dire need of an upgrade. That’s a real big insult to me AND turns out Bruce found it roaming in New York streets, dusty and lonely. Stop losing stuff, kid, they feel ya.”

Peter blinks, but he looks up because he thinks he’s hallucinating, his hearing’s fooling him, and he holds in his breath as he lifts up his chin, no matter how scared he’s feeling. In the corner of his room, he sees Mr Stark and almost flinches backward when the hologram moves.

His hands start shaking.

“So I put a few tricks here and there and voilà! Just like new if not better.”

Peter stares at the broken camera in the corner of his room and questions if it’s him or device that really needs fixing. Then he stares at Mr Stark and listens to him speak; how long has it already been? But it’s him – his voice, his face – Peter would never forget. He’s sitting in front of him, right in front of his eyes, leaning on the backrest of the chair and it feels so real. But is it really?

Peter blinks away the sting in his eyes. It’s the little things he misses the most. How much he wants to run into the man’s arms if he only didn’t know he wouldn’t just run through; hide in his embrace so that the truth would never approach, but were they there yet already or was it just Peter imagining things?

He would go to the lab after a normal school day, and there would be just Peter and Tony, and Friday of course. But weren’t the two of them already gone?

He wishes he could go to the field trip they were going that day and talk Mr Stark’s ear off about what he had seen. But weren’t he 5 years already late?

And oh, how he wishes the things weren’t this way and the truth had never caught up, the smile from Mr Stark’s lips would never be gone.

“Hope you don’t mind I fixed it without you. You know I’d never miss the occasion to listen to you ramble.”

There’s a heaviness in his voice and tiredness in his eyes. Peter’s heart cracks at the sight.    

There were days when they fixed things together, constructed stuff or upgraded Spider-Man’s suit. Peter would ramble on how cool was this or that or ‘is that web fluid version 3.03??’ those days in the lab and Mr Stark would tell him he talks his ear off, but Peter had always assumed he secretly enjoyed it, why else would Mr Stark let it happen then? Friday would order some food (mostly pizza with pineapples on top – Peter’s favourite) and Mr Stark would ask how his day went at school.

Peter misses that too. There’s a sigh and Mr Stark’s voice has gotten quiet.

“It’s been five years, Pete. Five years have gone by and there was nothing we could do... So I moved on, I got a second chance. I knew you’d want me to.”

The boy smiles a smile that never reaches his eyes, but it’s true, he would’ve wanted for Mr Stark to move on, to live a life he’d always wanted but never had. He’s glad he did.

“It’s quiet here, peaceful, but that’s the thing. Guilt and remorse don’t settle down with peace. It’s those ramblings that are still missing.

I tried, kid, not to give up. There weren’t a day I wouldn’t think of a way how to get everyone back... you. But at the end of the day, everyone was still gone and you weren’t here... and time? It still went by. 

There was never a way to put a suit of armour around the world, shelter it or undo what’s done, not completely at least, so I settled down with Pepper... and Morgan, and went with the flow. As one once said, I looked out for the little guy.”

There is a smile on Mr Stark’s face, small and fragile, but still there and Peter can’t help but smile a little too. His eyes water but he never lets the tears roll down and Mr Stark’s eyes drop. There’s a pause.

“Only it was never enough.

If you’re seeing this then it means this is goodbye. Or maybe we’re both sitting on the couch, half-eaten pizza on the coffee table, and having a good belly laugh at my silliness... just like in the good old days, you know?

I hope it’s the latter.”

How much Peter wishes it too. There are tears streaming his cheeks.

“But if it’s not the case then...

I’m sorry, kid. I’d never meant for you to get hurt, Pete, or for everything to end this way. Sometimes I wonder, if I’d never got you involved, stepped away when everything was over, would things have been easier that way? But then I look back and...

I know I did the right thing. 

If things rolled different way and good old days were back, the world didn’t need saving... but what am I kidding? It’ll always need saving, just this time I won’t be there to watch it fall. But I’m not afraid, not for the world, not for the universe, or the people in it. For I know this time the world will have a Peter Parker in it and can’t you see? It’ll already be better. 

I have a chance to get you back, kid, and this is my decision.   

 Maybe in another universe, in another timeline, there’s an end where we both come home.  

But until then,

This is goodbye, kid

And stop losing your stuff, I’m dead serious – I won’t be able to fix it. There’re some cool memories you’ve captured and so I thought I’d put something in there too. It’s always the little things, in the end, right kid?

-

“Mr Stark, you really don’t have to do this. It’s alright,”

“Right, kid, because bullying is tolerable,”

“No, but-“

“So shut up and stand beside me.”

“Say cheese, kid.”

Snap

 -

There’s a picture in the corner of his room, a hologram of them, Mr. Stark and Peter. They‘re smiling, standing next to each other. The memory is beautiful, but why this Peter who sits on his bed, cheeks red and all wet, can‘t smile too?

[austarus]

Harry Wells x Reader Decisions and Impulses

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @stellar-raven .

“You mean the old Harrison Wells? As in Eobard Thawne?” Cisco asks, with a look on his face as you and the trio walk into the Cortex. You held your tongue, knowing that getting faster is everything to Barry at the moment, no matter how he does it. “You want him to teach you how to run faster? Oh, that’s rich.”

“How are you gonna do that?” A query Caitlin resonates, a question that the three of us have been thinking about since Barry made his pitch with this outrageous idea.

“By running back to a time last year,” Barry simply answers, rounding around the main monitors to face you and the others.

“And what about the other you, the one from that other timeline?” You inquire, raising an eyebrow as you stood in between Cisco and Caitlin at the monitors. Caitlin rests her hands on the backrest of the chairs, while Cisco leans forward slightly to rest against his own respective chair.

“I’ll knock him out with something.”

“Barry,” you give him a look, which the speedster quickly disregards as he continues to speak.

“I mean, it’s not like he’ll see me coming, and then I’ll have Wells teach me.”

“Barry, that’s crazy,” Caitlin immediately responds in a ‘voice of reason’ tone, yet not a harsh response on which Barry would have received from a certain grumpy scientist.

“Nothing I’ve read is pointing me towards a solution, and if there’s anybody that’s figured out the key to getting faster without V-9, it’s him.” Barry glances at all of you briefly, mind literally racing for some sort of solution to beating Zoom and ending his treachery. “What do you guys think?”

You let out a little and quiet sigh, listening to Barry justify his conclusion. The idea didn’t settle well with you, neither with Cisco and Caitlin either, especially with interfering in a past point in the timeline. There is literally a 50-50% chance that something could go wrong… You could only move your gaze down to the idle computer screen, pursing your lips and folding your arms. Cisco and Caitlin let out little breaths and digest Barry’s spontaneous plan.

You four hear a sudden scoff, all of you snapping your heads to the source. Harry glances at you, his bright blue eyes softening for a fraction before narrowing them at Barry with a hardened expression, “Your plan is asinine.”

Barry rolls his eyes and makes a face as Harry strolls in his with bag and brooding mood.  

“Did you find Jesse?” You unfurl your arms, as you and Cisco ask the current million dollar question that’s been plaguing the genius physicist.

“Does it look like I found Jesse?” Harry fires back with a grave tone before throwing his bag onto the table, then turning around to face Barry. “How many times have you traveled through time?”

“A few.”

“Do you have any idea how many things you could screw up?”

“All I need is one conversation with Dr. Wells.”

“He’s not Wells-”

“-Thawne-”

“I’m Wells!”  Harry shouts while throwing down his dark jacket. Barry of all people should know that Harry hates it when they refer to Thawne as Wells. “This man has been studying you for 15 years. For 15 years. And you don’t think he’s not gonna know who you are?”

Harry does have a point… you think as you walk around in hopes of calming the two men down because honestly, Harry might throw something at this point.

“Barry,” you rest your hand on Barry’s arm so he can look at you. You reason your thoughts, “Harry’s right, what if something happens? What if he finds out? Then what? Eobard can smell deceit because he's practically the embodiment of deception.” You move to stand beside your grumpy boyfriend, “The mess would be even bigger and we wouldn’t know how to fix it or where to start with it.”

Barry looks around exasperated before looking at you like a kicked puppy. He just wants an answer to end everyone’s constant state of misery.

“Barry’s pretty good at impersonating himself, though,” Cisco intervenes, completely missing the look you threw at him to not encourage Barry with going through with this. “You should’ve seen him over there on Earth-2. I was like, ‘Somebody get this man an Oscar.’” The mechanical scientist voices his own thoughts with a grin to Caitlin, who humored him with a tiny smile.

I thought the boys agreed not to speak about what happened on Earth-2. You look up at Harry, who had his steely expression locked onto Barry. With crossed arms and an amused smile, the scarlet speedster gave you both a look that hinted what his next course of action will be.

"He will know, Allen. He will know.”

“All right, then what am I supposed to do?” Barry gestures with an extended arm to the speed equation written on the glass board. “I mean, how am I supposed to stop Zoom? Do you know the answer to this equation?”

You, like the others, understand that this- this seems like the only option. A chance, really. Do or don’t. Two options, both which can lead to victorious triumph or disastrous defeat along with the loss of so many lives. How many people have to die because of an evil speedster with a megalomaniac complex?

“If Thawne figures out that it’s you, the timeline will be altered. People can die. Others could live, and no one will know who or what will be affected, but I promise you, when you come back, things will be different. And only you will know what those differences are.”

“Well, if that’s what I have to do to stop Zoom, then so be it, because if I don’t, and Zoom gets my speed before I learn how to stop him,” Harry just shakes his head and presses his lips into a thin line, retaking his bag as Barry speaks. Caitlin and Cisco were quiet throughout the exchange, thinking up possible routes the speedster can take if he does go back in time. “Everybody I care about. Everybody in this whole city, their world will never be the same anyway.”

You all glance at each other when Harry backs down, he takes a glimpse back at the speedster before pulling on his cap as he steps away and out of the Cortex without a single word. You take in a breath, wanting to follow him out. Glancing back at Barry, you register the fact that his green-ish eyes spark with confidence and a tinge of determination.

Taking a few steps, you tilt your head a little before speaking, "Just… if you do go through with this, be careful.” Making eye contact STAR Labs’ resident biochemist and mechanical engineer, you then look at Barry. “It's not just your life on the line, Barry, its all of ours too.”

.:.:.

You knock on the door-frame of the smaller lab with your knuckles softly, blue eyes instantly snapping up away from the board to turn to you. “Hey,” you greet the taller, dark-haired man with a soft smile. Harry looked as if he prepared himself for another yelling match with the hero of Central City, only to drop it when his mind instantly realized that it's you.

He looks cute with his glasses on

“Hey,” he caps the marker in his hand, awkwardly standing there when you took a few steps forward. You couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to either comfort him or to subside his remaining inner frustration and rage, to which it took Harry a couple seconds to respond to. This relationship between you and Harry was still new, physical affection rarely exchanged outside of simple hand-holding and brief hugs. Understandable though, Barry's sudden and rash idea on top of Jesse’s disappearance is hitting him even harder now.

You pull back slightly, looking at Harry with a worried look as his arms still curl around your waist, “Are you going to be okay?”

He breathes through his nose, moving his gaze to look past you before making eye contact again, ”I’ll… be fine with you by my side.” His simple words make your heart jump, warmth rising to your cheeks. Harry’s not the coziest with emotions, but you gradually found out that when you’re alone with him he can bring down his walls. Trust, loyalty, and the relentless need to protect the ones he loves.

“I’m here for you, whenever you need me, Harry. I'll do the best I can to help you get Jesse back,” you beam a confident smile and twinkling eyes that indicates every bit of adoration at him when he cups your face. A gesture surprising you, but you don’t pull away. His thumb brushes over your cheek, a million thoughts running through your head as you remember the girls slightly teasing you for not having a first kiss with Harry.

His sky blues gaze into your own eyes, the world around you going on a stand-still. Your heart skips a beat or two, it always did whenever you were around him. What good have I ever done in the multiverse for you to bring such light into my life? Harry thinks as he leans down, pressing a long and overdue first kiss to your unsuspecting lips. Never sparring a thought at the abrupt surge of affection.

You shut your eyes tightly and respond to his lips after getting over your initial shock. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, both of you parting with flushed cheeks.

“Sorry-”

“-One more.” The words leave your mouth and you’re frankly a little bewildered by how forward you're being, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at you outburst . Before Harry can say anything or even come up with a response, his body moves on its own as he kisses you once more. Like how a moth is drawn to the fire. This time with a newfound passion. You take a step forward, resting your palms flat against his black sweater as he pulls you closer to his strong form.

Your mouth meets his over and over, eventually, your tongues joining in. Ragged breaths and little content hums leave one of you at some point, seconds seemed to turn into minutes. One little kiss turns into a smooch session filled with endearment and emotion, hopefully something that a certain scarlet speedster couldn’t ruin even if said speedster went back in time. It’s addicting… kissing her, having her in my arms like this... Harry can’t help but muse to himself when you two give each other one final kiss before pulling away.

Biting your lower lip, you shyly look up at him and a zoo of butterflies flutter around in your body when you see his lips tugged up in a smile. He lets out a sigh and wraps his arms tighter around you. This… Her, I will protect her and Jesse.

[do-lvn]

Hey there, Grayson

SUMMARY: Grayson and (Y/N) were best friends since second grade, they grew and so did their love.

based off ‘hey there, Delilah.’ By plain white t’s :)

15, you were fifteen when you realized that you were in love with Grayson. It was a simple day, a normal one to be exact, it was spent at the Dolan household. Being only 7 when you had met Ethan and Grayson, it made you all inseparable. So days at their house was nothing new. Once when your parents left for a business trip you ended up staying with them for a whole month. And even though you all had been inseparable, there was something that you and Grayson had and with being so little, was something you couldn’t quite wrap your head around just yet. So as a young one you ignored it, but when you all were huddled in a blanket outside by the fire it hit you hard. You turned to look at Grayson who was smiling at some absurd joke Ethan had just told and you felt your heart slow down, as you watched him laugh.

You felt your chest tighten and your heart started pounding as it felt like a truck was running straight through you. He took notice of someone's gaze and turned to meet eyes with you, sending you a shy smile and ducking his head further into the blanket, because whether or not he would admit it everyone knew you were truly the only girl who would drive Grayson crazy.

Yet you didn't know that, because when you hit the age 16, Grayson confessed his love for you on - only - the second date. He couldn't help it. He had taken you to the beach to watch the sun go down, simple, yet you loved every second of it. That's when he looked over at you and said it. “(Y/N), I'm in love with you.” your heart only swelled as you pulled him into a bone crushing hug. All the current events shocking you nonetheless.

Then 4OU happened and you were thrilled when Grayson invited you to join, both him and Ethan agreeing it wouldn’t be as fun without their best friend. So you had begged your mom to go and when she finally said yes, you were quickly packing your bags for months on the road. You even had Grayson on the phone not believing you were actually able to go. “I know, it’s crazy. I didn't think she was going to give in.” he chuckled at that, “me neither but I'm not complaining like my girlfriend gets to go on tour with me.” you felt your stomach start doing flips at the title. His girlfriend.

17, was the age Grayson broke your heart, along with his. His career had a huge take off after tour and his manager had insisted they move to Los Angeles for better business when you found out the news your heart shattered, it was just the beginning of your junior year. “It’s best if we break up, angel. You still have school and things will be hard.” you nodded, he knew you understood and you couldn't hold him back making videos was something he enjoyed and you weren't about to be another person telling Grayson he couldn't do it. “Don’t forget about me, okay?” you ask while wiping a tear from his cheek, he laughs and pulls you into a quick kiss. “I couldn’t even if I tried, I love you.” you smile and hug him tighter.

Even though you were sad, and so was Grayson no doubt. You both knew how big the situation was and it was an opportunity they couldn't pass up, so with one last hug and a quick peck he was out the door.

19 - PRESENT DAY

“Ethan! You bitch ass.” Grayson groaned as he watched Ethan take a quick shot at him. He quickly dropped his headset, “Fuck you, I was about to get victory royale.” Ethan snickers, “so? I wanted to win.” Grayson turned around in his chair and threw the nearest pillow at Ethan. “Hey! Don’t be a sore loser.” Grayson sighed, “whatever, I'm going to finish editing the video.”

Ethan didn’t bother to pry his eyes away from the screen, just stuck up a hand and waved Grayson off. He made his way back to his bedroom and flopped onto his mattress, life was good, but there was something missing that even though Grayson couldn’t quite figure out exactly what it was, he knew he would find out soon.

Very soon.

“(Y/N), please be a dear and set these on the table for me.”  Your mom was having a dinner party for her co-workers, one you weren’t invited too “I don’t get why I’m helping when you're not even letting me join!” you said jokingly. “I’ll have your father send you a plate straight to your room, sound good?” you set down the last plate and place a hand on your chin, “hmm not sure, I will say yes only if I get a cherry cola.”

She smiles, “I’ll do you one better, this was supposed to be a surprise but Lisa is coming along with the twins, they finally came around the time you were here, so I'll have your father bring you Grayson, k?” you feel your heart stop and your smile get wider, “sounds perfect.”

Seeing Grayson for the first time in 2 years had your heart racing. You had talked here and there over the years but nothing recent with you being so busy with college, so it was now winter break and you were happy that you were finally having a nice breather away from all the exams. You were going on to your second year and it was nice, college was looking way better than high school.

“So mom, she’s going into her second year right?” Lisa laughed at Grayson's nervousness, “yes gray, and calm down, you know her, she’s still the same bubbly girl she was three years ago.” he nodded. “Right right, would've been nice if Ethan joined.” she nodded, “yeah, a nice reunion.” he looked down, “yeah.”

When the door got pulled open, revealing your mother. Grayson’s nerves got bad he was thinking nothing but the worse. That maybe you would be mad at him for not talking to you recently. But he was wrong and it was just panic. “Nice to see you gray, (Y/N)’s upstairs, you know the way.” she shooed him off and continued to conversate with Lisa.

He took a look at your stairs and let all the memories you two had come back to him, it made him feel better knowing that you guys didn't end on a bad note, he took one last deep breath before knocking on your door. When he did you were quick to hop up. It had been three years since you had seen gray in person and you didn’t know how to feel, or how he looked.

The door opened and gray smiled, “hey.” he didn’t say anything back just quickly pulled you into a hug. “I missed you so much, how are you? How’s school? Tell me everything.” you smile and close your door.

“I'm going into my second year of college, only 2 more left after that. I'm good, just busy. Schools so stressful and on top of that my job is irritating. But i'm managing, how about you, how are you?” he casually shrugged, “good, things have been good. I've just been busy with filming and meetings and stuff like that.” you smile.

“Im happy your good. Hows ethan?” he laughed. “Good, still dramatic as fuck.” this time you both shared a laugh. “I really did miss you (Y/N). just things aren't the same without you.” you look down.

“ i miss you guys too, i think about you all the time gray. Wish we didn’t drift like we did, but we could fix that. If you want.” he smiled. “Would love that, now tell me what’s college like?”

You laugh. “Well…” he let your voice fade as he admired you, a lot had changed, your hair was shorter and lighter, your eyes brighter than before and lips plumper. “And other than frat parties every weekend it just stress. I don't go to parties though not my thing.” he nodded. “Never has been.”

The night went on and you fully forgot about all the guests your mom had downstairs, your whole focus on how life was for gray in l.a. He even mentioned the new house him and ethan had, “you should come to visit when your on break, again.” you smile. “I could, i have spring break next.” he smiled. “Really, that’s perfect, me and e can show you around l.a.” you laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

You both ended up at the park, a childhood spot. You pointed to the slide that over the years became old and damaged. “Remember when we pushed ethan down the slide and he landed on his face.” he chuckled, “and we got into so much trouble, yeah i think i remember. My mom took away my ipod.” you laugh and look over at the old tire swing. “Our first kiss was on that tire swing, then right after you fell off.” you felt your cheeks heat up at the memory. “Gosh don't remind me, that was so embarrassing.” he chuckled. “It was cute, your cheeks were so red, you looked like a tomato, hey kind of like you do right now.” you playfully smack his shoulder, he only smiles and looks down.

“It’s kind of crazy to remember where i was only three years ago and now look at me.” you laugh, “i know, when did you start working out?” it was his turn to playfully push you. “I've always worked out, don't be rude.” you put your hands up in defense, “okay, okay.”

The last encounter was better than before, “it was amazing to see you, keep in touch okay?” you nod. “Of course, i miss you already.” he pulls you into a quick hug. “Hey two more years and then your done and i'll be waiting for you.” you pull him closer. “Yeah, i’ll see you soon, gray.” he squeezed tighter and placed a kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“G’night gray.”

You were currently at home finishing up an assignment when your phone started ringing, to occupied with work you didnt even bother to see the name. “Hey there, (Y/N).” you smile at the voice.

“Hey there, grayson.”

- THE END

[birbleafs]

[fic] Silk and Steel

Rating: G Genre: . Game-Canon, Humour. Character(s): Sorey, Rose, Mikleo, Dezel, and Eguille, with mentions of the Sparrowfeathers. Warnings: Brief mentions of slight injuries, but nothing serious. Summary: In which Sorey and Rose engage in a friendly sparring match. A/N: Here’s my full piece for @zinestiria (with some minor edits). This was actually written sometime in Apr/May 2018, but hey, it still counts for the first posted fic of the new year, right? lol. This was a lot of fun and I'm grateful to be able to write more Sorey and Rose brotp moments for this project. Many thanks to the mods for all their hard work, and to everyone else who supported us by ordering a copy!

Fic can also be read on AO3

In retrospect, he supposed it all started with crabs. Well, crab hellions, to be exact. Which was an actual thing and not just a regular crab—Sorey was almost proud to say he and Mikleo had easily figured out how to tell the two apart after the incident on Camelot bridge. Both creatures had pincers capable of deadlock grips and tended to gurgle out foam bubbles. But regular crabs didn’t have more than eight legs and—as Dezel had assured them waspishly—definitely didn’t come in over thirty-feet-tall. Neither were they usually dressed in what looked suspiciously like tattered pieces of civilian clothing, unless crab-people were another thing Lailah had conveniently decided not to mention.

Sorey was glad, of course, that they’d managed to stop the crab hellions’ rampage through the port side town and had eventually purified them. But whatever tiny victories they’d achieved then didn’t seem quite enough for Rose. He was in the midst of helping Dezel tend to the injuries of a small squirrel (that they’d picked up after crossing paths with the Sparrowfeathers, on the way out of town) when she stomped up to him, fixing him with a scrutinizing glare. He stared up at her, startled, and then, perplexed. He’d just about managed to gently prompt Dezel to share a story about his friend Lafarga. But with Rose swooping down over them like a hawk now, Dezel had quickly reverted to his default aloofness, complete with monosyllabic grunts of disapproval. Sorey sighed inwardly—well, he’d tried, at least. He endured Rose’s scrutiny for two whole minutes, listening to the soft clatter of cutlery by the fireside where Felice and Talfryn were preparing supper, before finally working up the courage to break the awkward silence between them— “Um, Dezel?” Sorey began, hesitantly. “What’s Rose doing?” Rose only tutted, hands at her hips and her gaze still pinned squarely upon him. Dezel grunted, muttered something incomprehensible, and continued tending the squirrel. Its injured front leg was already bandaged neatly, but that didn’t stop the wind seraph from wrapping yet another unnecessary roll of bandage around it, if only so he could continue to avoid Rose’s gaze. Something shifted behind Rose, and Mikleo soon appeared at her side, fixing Sorey with an equally penetrating gaze. “Guys—” Sorey tried again, only to have Rose punch his shoulder. “O-ow! What was that for?” “Hm,” Mikleo said, and then sighed—a sign that he’d arrived to a decision of sorts. “I hate to admit it, Rose, but it is a bit worrisome. I regret not realising it sooner.” “Told ya!” Rose waved a hand. “And no worries! It’s still not too late to fix this.” “I honestly have no idea what’s going on,” Sorey said helplessly. “What’s worrisome and needs fixing?” Rose and Mikleo leaned closer over him, their expressions ominous, their eyes glimmering with fire. “You,” they said. Before Sorey could protest, they yanked him to his feet and shepherded him away through the shrubbery.

*

“Okay, here’s the thing, Sorey—you kind of, uh, suck,” Rose declared, hardly batting an eyelid. She’d led them into a clearing away from camp and beside a gurgling stream. Even though he’d feigned indifference in the earlier conversation, Dezel had dutifully trailed after them as well, the squirrel now chittering upon his shoulder. “What she means is,” Mikleo offered, to soften the blow, even as he tried to hide his smirk behind a hand, “you’ve been slacking off from training and it’s starting to show. Your unarmed combat has been sloppy lately.” “Sloppy is putting it mildly.” Rose threw out her arms for emphasis, frowning twice as hard now. “That hellion this morning really threw you off when you lost your sword. Without it, you were like a sitting duck waiting to be shanked!” “Come on, guys. It wasn’t that bad!” Sorey said, slightly wounded at these sudden accusations. “So I was caught off-guard this one time…” Rose and Mikleo only exchanged a look, unconvinced. “One time?” Mikleo echoed, folding his arms. “What about the incident with the werewolf hellion just days before?” “Or that scuffle with the bandits while on the road last week?” Rose added. Sorey winced, brushing a finger gingerly at the small cuts across his right cheek. The cuts were healing, but his skin still felt tender to touch—the werewolf hellion had scratched him up pretty badly after it’d bitten his sword arm. And well, one of the bandits had gotten too close and very nearly gouged an eye out.  He didn’t like where this conversation was headed, but… All right, so maybe they both had a point. “Fine, so perhaps there were a couple of times I might not have dodged soon enough,” Sorey admitted. “But you guys covered for me then and it all turned out just fine, right?” Rose sighed. “That’s the problem! I mean, sure, you can count on us to keep an eye out  for each other during battles. But that doesn’t mean being careless and leaving yourself wide open!” “That werewolf hellion was a lot stronger than we had anticipated—even Edna and I got knocked around a bit,” Mikleo said. “But Sorey… Rose isn’t wrong either. While you have the advantage of seraphim to aid you in battles, there may be times where even we might not be able to fight alongside you, however much we wish to…” He trailed off, eyes downcast now. Sorey felt a twinge of guilt at Mikleo’s expression; there was truth in those words. The memory of his temporary resonance loss in Glaivend Basin—the helplessness, fear, and desperation a roiling dark cloud—still weighed heavily over them. “No, you’re both right,” he said. “I haven’t been as focused lately and look what that got me—bruises and bites that I could’ve easily avoided. And I could really learn a thing or two from you, Rose. You dive into battles with just a pair of daggers but still come out with little more than scrapes.” “Well, it’s one part Rose-awesomeness and two parts battle experience. But flattery will get you everywhere, so fret not! I know just how to help!” Rose said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, Eguille appeared beside her and tossed Sorey a short sparring stick. “Eguille’s been training me in close combat since I was a kid, so I’ve asked him to share some techniques that you might find useful.” “Not sure why Rose still thinks I’m one to offer pointers, considering how I got my rear handed to me by you at Rayfalke,” Eguille said coolly. “You’re a tough fighter, Mister Shepherd.” Sorey could only return an embarrassed grin. “That hadn’t really been a fight in your favour. I did have help from my friends—uh, the seraphim, after all.” “So the rumours are true then. Well, let’s start with the basics.” Eguille turned to Rose, who was twirling her sparring stick idly. “First rule of the Scattered Bones Fight Club,” Rose began, her expression solemn. “We don’t talk about the Scattered Bones Fight Club. Second rule: leave no corrupt officials or Shepherds alive—” “Righ—wait, what?!” Sorey flinched, incredulous, only to be met with bubbling laughter as Rose chanted, “Just kidding!” Eguille coughed politely, and Rose attempted a contrite Cheshire grin, gesturing for him to continue. “Always with the teasing, boss,” Eguille chuckled. “Anyway, back to the lesson. First rule of combat: never underestimate your opponent, even inexperienced ones. Sometimes you can learn a lot just by assessing them—when you’re able to discern your opponents’ drive and limitations, you can anticipate their moves better.” Eguille nodded at Sorey, watching as he mimicked Rose’s stance. “You’ve witnessed Rose in battle a few times. Let’s see if you’re able to assess her moves and spar one-on-one against her without relying on your magic tricks.” “Okay, I think I got this,” Sorey said, holding up his sparring stick and balancing on his toes the way Eguille had shown him. “All right, hit me with all you got, Rose. I’m ready.” He wasn’t ready. Sorey had lunged forward, right arm pulled back for a jab with his stick, when he realised his first mistake—letting Rose leap out of his line of sight; she was already gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered, briefly then, if Dezel had gotten nosy somehow and cast Wind-step to assist her—but no, Rose really was as quick as lightning. By the time he could react, Rose was already darting around him from the shadows. Sorey dodged, swinging his stick just in time to parry a blow—but not before he felt a sharp strike across the back of his shoulders. He gasped in surprise, stumbling forward. Rose landed lightly in the grass several metres behind him, keeping her guard up. She grinned. “Eguille’s right about you being a natural at rough-housing. Gotta work on your speed and footwork, though.” Sorey chuckled as he straightened up, raising his stick again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” “We Scattered Bones are more nimble than most fighters,” Eguille said. “Rose uses this to her full advantage. Think of your own advantage and strengths in battle, Sorey—use it as a counter-balance. You’re physically strong for your size, but agile enough to stay light on your feet. Keep your movements fluid like water, silent like silk; strike hard at your opponents, like steel. Try again.” Sorey exhaled slowly, taking a moment to reflect over Eguille’s words. Then, finding his centre, he dashed forward once again. This time, Rose rushed ahead to meet his attack directly, catching his stick with hers before jabbing her fist forward. Sorey blocked her flurry of punches and strikes, matching her speed step by step. Then, seeing an opening, he dove past her guard to knock the stick from her grip. But his victory was short-lived—with both hands free, Rose caught his outstretched arm, and using his own momentum against him, easily flipped him over. Sorey wheezed painfully as he hit the ground. His back was going to hate him in the morning. “Good disarming move,” Eguille said. Sorey wasn’t sure if it was praise directed at him or Rose, but praise was praise, right? “However, you let your guard down by assuming the fight was over when Rose lost her weapon; she easily worked that to her advantage instead.” Eguille held out a hand, helping Sorey to his feet. “So, second rule of combat: put the battle on your terms—you should always be acting, not reacting.” “Battle on my terms…” Sorey repeated, readying himself once more. “Acting, not reacting.” Rose was already on the offense, charging straight at him. Sorey moved to meet her rush, and then side-stepped away easily. He caught the flicker of surprise in her expression, before it morphed into a smirk. He returned the grin, eyes bright with daring, a playful challenge, which Rose readily accepted; pivoting on her heels, she darted around him like a fierce whirlwind. Sorey deflected her blows, searching for an opening to disarm her again. Acting, not reacting— He struck out as Rose swung her stick, felt her punch connect instead—hard enough to bruise his wrist—and his grip slipped from his weapon. Still, he pressed forward, ignoring the pain. He dodged Rose’s kick, before lunging forward enough to ram his elbow against her guard, knocking her off-balance. Yes! He grinned, unabashed at the unexpected win, and— “Sorey, the water—!” “Tch, watch it, you fools!” Mikleo and Dezel’s mental shouts were his only warning, before Sorey felt Rose seizing his shirt. “Gyeaaah!!” Rose yelped, tugging at Sorey as she flailed about. She slipped over the grassy bank, sending them both tumbling into the stream with a splash.

*

Sorey sat down beside Rose, handing her a mug of hot cocoa. “Thanks,” she said gratefully. They sat in comfortable silence by the fire as they sipped at their drinks, wrapped in blankets to keep the chill out. “Sorry about earlier,” Sorey said at length, his mug balanced carefully between his fingers. “I should’ve noticed how close we were to the stream before charging at you like that.” Rose narrowed her eyes and snorted, leaning in to nudge her shoulder playfully against his. “You’re too soft, Shepherd. All’s fair in combat if it keeps your hide safe. Besides, it’s not like that was the first time we’ve fallen into surging water together.” Sorey grinned sheepishly. “Still, I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt or anything—o-ow!” This time, Rose elbowed him in the ribs, scowling hard. “Seriously? C’mon, it’ll take a hell of a lot more than that to put me out of commission. Let’s just compromise and say we’re both a force to be reckoned with.” “Fair enough.” Sorey let out a soft laugh. “Eguille did call it a draw, so I guess we both win this round, huh?” “Yup! And while it’s great to know we’re both capable of holding our own against each other in combat, I think I very much prefer us fighting on the same side.” Rose downed the last of her drink with relish before she yawned widely, leaning back to rest against the fallen log behind them. Sorey could feel the fatigue finally catching up to him just from watching her. His shoulders and back were already protesting the mistreatment from the day’s sparring session. “I’m really glad we’re on the same side too,” he said, stretching languidly to ease the kinks out of his sore back and settling down to rest beside his Squire.

“And together, we’re the bestest. Vigilantes of the people, for truth and justice!” Rose declared sleepily, one arm raised in a victorious fist-pump.   Sorey thought back to the look of fright and horror the townspeople had cast their way during their scuffle with the crab hellions that morning, and smiled wryly. He didn’t quite have the heart to tell Rose otherwise.

*

“All right, kiddos—get your suppers while they’re piping hot… Ah.” Eguille paused in his steps, balancing two bowls of stew and a basket of bread rolls on a tray. Sorey and Rose had both dozed off, their backs resting against the log as they curled close to the warmth of the fireplace. “Supper will have to wait till later then,” Eguille sighed, setting the tray down on a nearby tree stump so he could adjust the blankets over the two. He watched and listened—to the way the flames flickered a little brighter, to the sound of a stray breeze rustling the leaves of the canopy above—and glanced back at Rose and Sorey’s sleeping forms. “So the rumours are true, huh,” he murmured to no one in particular. He clasped his palms together over his chest, a show of gratitude. “This supper isn’t much, but I hope you’ll be able to share it with Rose and Sorey. Thank you for always watching over us.” The branches above bobbed lightly as if in response; while he’d never had any resonance for it, Eguille felt in that moment he could almost, almostsee the Shepherd’s seraphim beaming silently from the shadows.

—End—

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Latvia to Eurovision with a cinematic French rendez-vous

Supernova with their strict-on decision to only focus on all that’s radiofriendly this year went to hell for me. I mean, I like me some pop tunes, but not those that are purposefully marketed to be enjoyed by the massive sheeps of the Eurofandom who usually fall for those songs by Michael James Down, Will Taylor, even Ylva & Linda... because at the end of the day they’re all just shallow and pointless outside the ESC bubble.

Well the best they could do is to accept some different winds out of nowhere! And so they did when the audition stage hit place and we guys got to witness the 33 shortlisted tunes for this year, among which of them are loudly and proudly different - like “Alligator” and “Grow”, which I did not fathom but I was also raging for their not qualification for - more precisely “Alligator” which was way more outstanding of those two I mentioned. The guys that performed that song were fun, their performance choice was fun, they could have totally rocked on Supernova... but alas.

In fact not that many alternative songs made it to the final down-to-16 cut! There might have been a couple of those that sound nothing a radio would play unless it’s not playing pop on its purpose (Laime Pilnīga’s ”Awe” comes to mind right away), but in the end of the day, not many of those survived and we were graced with some... choices, like letting Samanta Tina waste herself on a cocky-ass tune with terrible chorus rhyme-scheme and unbearable charisma and putting through the most Eirodziesma-like mess-fest with the Beaver guy on top of it. Honey I like you in costume but... not in this emploi.

I don’t blame them though, as one of non-blatant-pop tunes conquered the Latvian hearts for this year. These next Latvian people in Laura Rizzotto’s succession are collectively named Carousel and their song is “That Night”.

It sets a romantic mood throughout, like we all are reliving this magical last date - it was in a restaurant, the candles were lit, the restaurant looked vintage with bordeaux satin tablecloth on the table, and the couple is having a smooth evening... until the love runs out to the probably cold and rainy streets and the other half of the couple starts longing for one's love. That's all I can imagine with this.

So yeah, I really like this! It's got lovely instrumentation that doesn't need all the over the top instruments - just guitar, simple drums, etc.; the noir flair is distinct on here and that's not bad on here; this is just a simple and soft song that you too could play in your own restaurants when all the lovely couples have romantic dinners and sip wine. And in some kind of a French movie, too (with the lead role being a curly redhead artiste with striped sweater, looking for love in Paris (because it’s so romantic in there honhonhon). I'm not sure if the revamp touched upon this one little problem I noticed but the problem kinda seems to be that the chorus repeats. A lot. And verses are way too short that they could be easily forgotten against the 4th and 5th time one would be hearing the "lo-o-o-o-ove, where? Are? You?" line, and then lulled into sleep at how peacefully relaxing it is. Which is indeed of a problem because repetition has quite a bit of a negative effect on people. Yes, it gets the song onto your brain more easily, but the repetition drives people insane too. Just like it was suspected for “Story of My Life” (Belarus 2017) on its original version to be unable to be ‘stood’ - after the 2nd chorus, the rest of the song just went like “hey hey hayayayaho” until the end. Naviband fixed the problem by throwing in another vocal onomatopoeia in a form of the song bridge and I loved them for it, even if there still were too many “hey hey hey”s at the end, haha.

Final conclusion? Yep, issa good entry, and if anything it’s helluva underrated. Say what you want about it being “boring”, to me it’s somewhat fresh and exciting, because the melodies are pleasant, the instrumentation is top notch and Sabīne’s vocals are relaxing. Delightful starry night music, oh yes, thanks a lot for it, Carousel, I’m taking it.

Obviously, after they won Supernova, there was a lowkey uprising from fans who were dead certain on wanting Edgars Kreilis or Markus Riva to win, eek. Honeys, honeys. I do like those two as well, BUT for a bit of a mess that Supernova 2019 was with some of their decisions to include, I think it’s for the better they finally let themselves go lighthearted over it all rather than blatant tryhard to sound radio for the masses just cuz the NF wanted. Just forgive Carousel for winning, okay? Okay. ^_^

Approval factor: Definite yes from me, because why wouldn’t I rate it a yes. Yay brotherland!

Follow-up factor: For me personally this is miles better than Laura Rizzotto's last year's melodrama. Overall I think it just flows nice and is a delightful addition to the Latvian collection.

Qualification factor: This I cannot think about all too often but I am not sure if they'd... stand a chance anymore? I'd use to think it did, but that was weeks before supposedly much stronger entries rushed in, squeezing Latvia into an uncomfortable position. But I really hope it's just charming enough to kind of get through. Sort of. A little bit. I'm positive about it happening, but not that much. And a lot of older audiences might love it enough to vote it, too.

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

I admit that I got way too heated about hearing Supernova’s new approach to selecting entries, but in the end it turned out that I didn’t need to worry all that much in the first place - some of those alternative entries we got were very nice (or at least the entries out of the standart overbearing radio-pop norm), both in their actual auditions (this time they were on an actual stage in front of a jury instead of the listeners pick-pocketing the submissions themselves) AND among the actual picks. But what else is there to be note-worthy in this year’s edition of this show?

• Well, among of the auditionees there were those too-weird-ass bands/artists (some of them I mentioned), and you saw me mention the “Alligator” song to you beforehand, which is done by an ambitious project ATOM.LV (so did I mention “Grow" by Waterflower and her show is worth mentioning as well <3 Those flowers in her hair, the hair color, the makeup, her overall image (it’s like Jamie-Lee upgraded) and the dance moves are ADORABLE <3333 but the song is... hmm... :c). And I’ll repeat myself - those guys rocked! I may have not been a massive fan of this but I can at least commend them - they had a good song structure going on, a clear message (alligators from the stars *catchy trumpet fanfare part* trying to probably conquer the world, yeah!) and an outrageous tribal image with that facepaint on! Awh hell yeah! Who wouldn't want THAT through the live shows??? Ah, only the Latvian juries ofc. (And me because I never got the appeal of this but I sure felt sad for 'em kids hoping and wishing for them through :x)

• Thank Goodness I had my faves through - all hail Double Faced Eels! They're the little legendary pop band who went all their way to compete in some Youtube contest and have had sung with Bebe Rexha as the prize for winning it almost 1,5 years ago :o Believe it or not but I have heard of them way before their Sulernova stint - I got introduced to them through a friend, known on Tumblr as Soupgeist. :3 And I don't regret stanning a name I know, as "Fire", their entry in this year's 'Nova, was a pop-rock banger with some electro in! Granted the vocaliat might've had some troubles singing live but he still pulled it off nicely in the finals, with that energy coming out on top! Yeah yeah, uguns. 🔥

• Like I mentioned earlier, there were people rooting for other favourites this year so heavily, and that annoyed the hell out of me, because I thought that Eurofans have some sort of evolving tastes that accept more than just pretty pop boys/girls with not-so-special songs? Well, I mentioned that Eurofans’ targets were Edgars Kreilis and Markus Riva. The latter felt so attacked about him trying to achieve his representation dream over and over he even tweeted about it once... well I did like his song “You Make Me So Crazy”, but I found it a little too overrated with the fans. So I did Edgars, but his song was way catchier and had way more personality than being a club track, I tell ya. Why would his song be renamed from “Fire” (yes, he partially shared a song title with that Double Faced Eels’s song!) to “Cherry Absinthe”, anyway? It gives it a bit more of an exciting feeling, tbh. ^_^ So I ended up rooting for him a little bit more out of the two ‘pretty’ pop boys, if I had to accept one of those kind of winners that everyone wanted (like everyone wanted just either yesyes or The Middletonz for Hungary this year).

• There were a lot of other nice chosen songs too that I would’ve loved to discuss, but I just can’t not mention the Riga’s Beaver as one of the more memorable moments here. I did write earlier in this that I was disappointed though. Not because of the beaver being out of costume and coming at us as a young-to-middle-aged stunning lad, but because the Beaver-entry, “Tautasdziesma”, was a “Supernova”-times cluster-mess. I think of this as a charity music medley-parody of some sorts, and that doesn’t bode with me well, and sometimes I like parodies, like the one Klemen Slakonja (aka the guy who portrayed Putin for a musical number once) did in his country’s NF in 2012 (that he hosted) was fairly nice (although a bit too much), but... ehhh... at least the men are fine and their costumes were dandy.

• Let’s not forget that those auditions had this one glorious thing going on during the performances - we saw shots of the jurors judging all of the 33 shortlisted acts with... rather less-than-enthusiastic looks, and man oh man were they fabulously done with this shit <3333

if that’s not a big indicator of them being too dead inside to be judging anything that day, then idk what is...

Anyway, I am finished with this review also, and I’m happy about it! I don’t think I can move any of this at a more quicker pace (seriously, I have to do so many more even during rehearsals!!!), but I am still trying to do my best. Good luck to the Carousel quartet and may they not flop in May! To hell with the naysayers sweeties, you’ll do just fine x ✨

[junionigiri]

Work In Progress [BNHA] [Preview of Chapter 1!]

Rating: T for strong language (since Bakugou is in it )

Summary: For the year’s Interscholastic Fantasy Festival, Class 2A is working on a musical! The reluctant Bakugou is assigned to work on the script with Uraraka, who proves to be a more eccentric writer than he thought.

Relationship: Kacchako <3

Notes/Warnings: This is a preview of a part of chapter 1. Since there’s the main story and the story within the story, the chapters are pretty darn long. I’ll start publishing the chapters in full once I’m five chapters in ^^’ Apart from Bakugou’s language and liberal 4th wall breaks I don’t think there’s anything to worry about in this fic~

Bakugou seriously did not want to work on Uraraka’s dumbass script. It’s not that he was bad at writing--in fact, beyond his good grades, he knew he was pretty good at it. Principal Nezu had personally informed him that the essay he submitted on “Why I Want To Be A Hero” was one of the most well-composed ones he’s ever read.

It’s just that Bakugou hated fantasy. And hated fiction-writing (because fiction was not real, therefore it was a waste of his fuckin’ time).

Most of all though, he hated having to work with other people to achieve any kind of common goal. Look at his damn stats for cooperativeness in the character book and anyone with half a brain would get it. And to cooperate for a stupid ass waste of time like the Fantasy Festival? Who the hell thought up of the stupid Fantasy Festival anyway?! Weren’t there more important things in society to worry about?

And the fact that he was working with Uraraka fuckin’ Ochako was in itself pretty aggravating. It’s not that he hated her--in fact, she was one of the few to earn Bakugou’s (grudging) respect, since their infamous Sports Festival encounter when they were first years.

However, since their encounter at the festival, Uraraka learned not to be the tiniest bit afraid of him anymore. He knew that this girl wouldn’t be the type to just shut up and do what he tells her to, and he really didn’t feel like making such an effort just to write a stupid play.

But now that he knew that fuckin’ All Might was counting on him to write the script, well… he couldn’t get out of it now, could he? Bakugou was many things, but a disappointment to All Might, he’d rather not be.

So that was how he found himself stomping his way away from the common areas to his room, with Uraraka bouncing right behind him. They were going to sit down there to look over her draft, but it was overrun by the costumes, set-design, and props people with all their shit.

“Why your room?” Uraraka said, huffing as she struggled to keep up with Bakugou’s pace. “I don’t think girls are allowed there…”

“Let ‘em try to kick you out, Round-Face,” he growled as he tapped on the elevator button impatiently.

“If you say so, Explodey-face,” she teased, earning her a growl which was received with a giggle. This was what Bakugou was talking about. This damn girl knew no fear.

They eventually made it to his room, with Bakugou stomping the entire way and Uraraka skipping like an oblivious little red riding hood romping through the forest with a picnic basket, the purest picture of ignorance and innocence, unwitting of the ravenous wolf who lurked in the foreboding shadows of the dark, nightmarish wood.

Ugh. Really, Bakugou? Already gearing yourself up to write this fuckin’ fantasy shit? You guys haven’t even sat down yet. Don’t be too fuckin’ eager. 

“Uwaa, your room’s amazing, Bakugou! I didn’t think it would be so neat and sparkly~”

Much to his annoyance, Little Pink Riding Cheeks was already making herself right at home next to his desk. He felt a vein or two pop over his forehead, like in animes if they were in an anime. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be neat and sparkly?! You expect a guy like me to just live in a dump?!”

“I’m just sayin’, I wish my room was as neat. I knew you were great at lots of things, but even cleaning?” she said wistfully. “Hey, I have an idea! Next time, let’s go to my room, and--”

“I ain’t helping you clean your damn room, Round-Face.”

She pouted and innocently twiddled her thumbs. “I -wasn’t- going to say that, but, you know, now that you mentioned it…”

He grit his teeth so loudly Uraraka gasped and asked him if his teeth were okay. “Let’s just…!!! Get this fuckin’ script over and done with already!”

“Eh, fine, fine. Sorry for teasin’ ya! Watch yer blood pressure, a’ight?” She reached over to open her bag and pulled out a messy folder that was crumpled, filled to its limit with papers with tags pointing in all directions. A post-it with a messy scrawl on it flew out as she pulled out the mess. “So, this is what we’re gonna be workin’ on!”

“What the fuck is that mess? Did you fuckin’ sit on it and flush it down the toilet and set it on fire?”

“How rude!” Uraraka puffed her cheeks. “I only sat on it once! On accident! And I don’t bring homework to the toilet! That’s just unladylike.” She opened up the folder and revealed a disorganized array of handwritten scripts scrawled on legal pad, post-its, sketches, more post-its, reference photos of their classmates with post-its on them, receipts, a grocery list, and a few folded-up paper bags from Tokyu Hands.

Bakugou’s fingers itched. He spent so much energy restraining himself from fixing the mess that was now taking over his desk that he barely heard Uraraka’s spiel.

“So, in the meeting which you missed, we drew lots. Everyone’s working on the production and stuff but all of us will be acting in the play too. Some of us bit parts and stuff, but yeah. I asked everyone what they wanted their roles to be. Based on those ideas, I sketched out my ideas on what their characters would be.”

She pulled out the sketches, and Bakugou had to admit, they weren’t badly done. He would go so far as to say that she might have a talent in drawing. They were scratchy and messy, but Uraraka seemed to place great care in drawing out the likeness of each classmate, and the details of each character and costume and even background information were at least 70% fleshed out for each of them.

“So based on the lottery, Deku-kun’s the lead character. You, me, Tsuyu-chan, and Todoroki-kun are gettin’ large roles, plus we gotta pay attention to All-Might-sensei’s important cameo. We’re gonna write the story based on all of this! And, if we want to allot time for practice and stuff, we have to finish most of the script in a week!”

“The f-- I’m gettin’ a large role too?! Nobody said that!”

“It ain’t my fault you weren’t at the meeting, Bakugou-kun.”

The blonde boy scowled as he went through the sketches. The fucking nerd Deku’s role was that of a ‘Squire’ (but his costume made him look like a fucking hobbit). Uraraka had a hood (fuckin’ coincidence from his red riding hood fantasy earlier) and a staff, and she was a ‘Mage’. Frog was a froggy lookin’ barmaid. IcyHot was a Prince (probably of the Land of Half and Halfs where people were always shitty and constipated). All Might was a Legendary Knight in exile (also fitting, in a morbid sort of way).

And Bakugou was… a Bard. His sketch had him wear fuckin’ poofy pants and a stupid fuckin’ hat with a feather on it and a stupid shitty tiny harp that the chubby babies in those old fuckin’ European paintings had. He all but made the paper disappear from a blast from his fist. “Oi, Roundface. Who’s the fucker I gotta kill besides you for giving me this pansy-ass role?!”

“Hey, it’s your fault. You weren’t there yesterday.” Uraraka repeated, not even the least bit apologetic. “And that thing you destroyed was a brilliant joint effort between me, Kirishima-kun and Kaminari-kun. Nice goin’, Explodey-face.”

“Fuck y’all! I’ll kill those idiots!” He shredded the paper further. “Gimme that pencil!” Within seconds, he sketched out something different, muttering expletives the entire time. After he was done, he dumped the pencil on the desk, almost breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Uraraka gasped. “Wow, Bakugou! That’s really impressive! A Dragon Tamer, huh?” She traced his sketch with one finger, which showed him with a fur cape, tattoos, a necklace made of the fuckin’ skulls and teeth of his enemies, pants and boots, and lots of fire blazing in the background for extra badassery. She grinned at him teasingly. “So you have been thinkin’ about this so-called fantasy shit too!”

“Fuck you,” he said, shoving her in the face unceremoniously. “Now I know that I gotta change that fuckin’ script of yours. Let’s just get this fuckin’ shit over with.”

“Okay…” Uraraka pulled out the legal pads, but shielded them from Bakugou. “Um. Just so you know, Bakugou, these are really, really, rough drafts, okay?”

His jaw jutted out in annoyance. “The fuck you mean by rough drafts. I thought I was just gonna edit your shit.”

She gave him a ridiculous look. “Well, you are. But also, I started workin’ on this just a week ago sooooo you gotta help me finish like a teeny bit of it.”

“How fuckin’ teeny do you mean.”

“Um. Like. 50% of it, mmmaybe…?”

Bakugou could almost see the smoke coming out of his own fuckin’ nostrils.

“Anyway, that’s exactly why we can’t waste anymore time, right?” said Uraraka, a positive beam glowing out of both ears. “And don’t you worry! The story’s practically finished in my head!”

There’s probably nothing in there but a single light bulb struggling to survive, thought Bakugou in annoyance. He put his palm to his face and tried his hardest not to yell at her. “Fine, Uraraka. Let’s just fuckin’ start already. No matter what, I’m kickin’ you out of my room by 10 PM.”

“Okay! Glad ya see it my way, Bakugou-kun!” She smiled and pulled out the first page of the script, which read:

*

 - Deku and the Final Fantastic Lord of the School of Wizardry!: The Legend of the Airbender’s Song of Ice and Fire -

(A Work in Progress)

Act One, Scene One: In Which Deku-kun Leaves His House and Adventure Begins

Written by: Uraraka Ochako

 *

“The fuck? Are you trying to outdo Class B’s lameass play from the last year’s cultural festival, Round-face?”

 “It’s a work in progress! We can edit it out later.” Uraraka said as she scribbled Explodey McSplodeface next to her name on the by-line.

[heyhowdyhellohi]

How Quickly We Mend Pt. 6

Masterlist here

Peter Maximoff x OC (NOT PIETRO FROM THE AVENGERS! PETER AS IN EVAN PETERS AS IN X-MEN)

Warning: TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE, Language Probably

Words: (estimated) 1.8k

Summary: X-Men Days of Future Past timeline, plus an oc healing mutant, Amelia. I’m not doing that thing where I quote huge chunks of the movie. This is going to be related, and then it’s going to veer off into its own thing, namely a love story between Peter and the reader.

HEAVILY EDITED

Peter practically inhales two whole boxes of pizza when he returns and Amelia shoves her worries to the side like she always does and eats half of the third pizza. Peter is flopped onto one of the plush brown leather couches of what appears to be a half library-half sitting room. Amy curls up in an arm chair. Both of them sit and digest for a bit as Peter prattles on an endearing story about his sisters and how he bothers them.

“And to this day we haven’t found that rubber ball.” Peter concludes his epic tale.

“It’s still inside him?!” Amy exclaims, dumbfounded.

“Well I don’t know where else it could be!” Peter shrugs, just as confused as she is.

“Does Wanda know?” Amy presses, leaning in conspiratorially, as though his sister could overhear them if she spoke too loudly.

“I’ve been too scared to ask. We haven’t talked about it since that day,” Peter admits solemnly. They laughed at life’s serendipity before settling into a warm silence.

“I never had any siblings. And I never really got to see my cousins that much.” Amy vocalizes.

“Family’s overrated.” Peter stretches and shifts to face her. “Hey, why do you trust these guys so much?” Peter seems to already be regaining his zooming energy as he is suddenly by the book shelf flipping through the pages of an old green edition as though it’s a flip-book.

“Who?” Amy rests her head on the back of the seat. She knows who.

“Hank, Charles and Logan. I mean, for me it’s fine. I don’t need to trust them, I can just make a run for it if things go south. But your power can’t protect you,” Peter explains a bit, looking half interested in the conversation as he puts the green book back and opens another one, red. The spine cracks when he opens it. But Amy knows his nonchalance is an act. He’s flipping through the pages slowly, one by one.

“I’ve been alone since I found out I was a freak,” Amy turns her head to look down at her feet, suddenly realizing that dirty shoes have no place stepping on a very nice leather arm chair. She lowers her feet to the ground, resting them instead on the elegant Persian rug. It doesn’t make her feel better. “I finally have the chance to be a part of something.”

“Hey, freaks are way cooler that normies. I prefer them actually,” Peter says, very matter-of-fact.

Peter sleeps on the couch. Amelia spends the night resting on top of the bed covers, fully clothed, in a room with a window to the garden. She had pulled the curtains apart to watch the stars. The air is stiff and stale, thick with the smell of disuse, as she stares up at the ceiling in the moonlight. She finds herself wondering if Peter would sit with her if she asked him to. But she knows she wouldn’t feel comfortable with him in the room as she tried to sleep. She thinks he’s both exciting and terrifying, but she’s not sure why. She fights with herself, because he’s just a boy, a nice boy who worries about her, that’s all. But it’s nice to think about being close to someone. Feeling ridiculous because there are a thousand better things to worry about in this particular moment, she turns to the window and counts the stars until the sun rises. Sleep seems about as far out of reach to her as the lights in the sky.

In the early morning, as the light casts shadows onto the hardwood and Amy watches the sun awaken the world through her window, there’s a commotion. Downstairs, the door has opened and something is happening, something that has caused raised voices and worry. Amy bolts up in bed and runs to the entrance despite the stiffness in her limbs and neck. The halls are confusing and maze-like, especially as they catch the early morning light in such an unfamiliar way, but she’s certain she’s moving towards the sound of voices.

“Don’t worry, Professor. I’ll get your medicine!” Hank runs up the stairs in the entrance, shooting her a small ‘hello’ before moving past her, long legs taking the steps two-at-a-time.

“What’s wrong with him?” Amelia asks from the top of the steps. She feels an empty, faintly vacuum-like feeling in her chest, and without looking she knows her hands are shaking. Logan is holding Charles up as the scrawny man rests all of his weight against the wall behind him.

“I don’t know. Stay over there,” Logan points at her, glancing her way for only a moment. “Professor, why can’t you walk?”

Amy ignores Logan and descends the stairs as Charles groans at whatever wounds he feels. She can’t see anything, blood, bruises, or otherwise. She stands by the two men, just out of arms reach of either of them. She wants to take his pain away and run away until her feet bleed all at once. It takes all of her will power to just keep her feet still.

“It’s the medicine. It’s fading. I missed doses.” Charles explains, gasping through the pain.

“You just hold on, Charles.” Logan helps him slide to the ground, legs splayed out in front of him.

“Amy,” he chokes out through whimpers, whipping his hands up to his head, over his ears. “You’re so afraid.”

“What is he doing? Why’s he saying that?” Amy backs up further. But she can’t escape the reach of his mind. It’s like plunging through tepid water and suddenly being two places at once. A part of her can hear Logan yelling for her, worried, confused. The other part of her is remembering, and she can feel Charles invading like a shadow weighing down on her mind, keeping her submerged.

Amy saw the first time her father hit her. His red face yelling right at her. The defiant flame in her chest as she talked back. Then the pain on her cheek.

“Amy!”

Then she saw as her father apologized for hitting her. Amy was wrapped in his arms, and despite everything she felt warm and safe and she forgave him the moment she saw the tears in his eyes.

“Professor! What the fuck are you doing to her!”

Amy was in her bedroom, curled up under her faded, hand-me-down comforter that did nothing to keep out the cold. She couldn’t sleep, haunted by the sounds of her mother’s pain and memories of her own helplessness. She felt the confusion, deep in her stomach with a vividness that had faded as the years crept by. If he loves me, why does he keep hitting me? How can I forgive him for hitting mom? How can I not forgive him? He’s my father. Is it really my fault like he says it is? Amy was that helpless child again, always willing to forgive and hope.

“She’s crying! Can’t you see you’re hurting her?”

Amy relives her mother rushing her into the closet in her bedroom when her father came home. She can feel the scratchy flannel she pressed into her mouth to keep from sobbing too loudly. Amy remembers listening as he beat her mother and being incapable of doing anything to protect the person she loves most in the world.

“Snap out of it! Please!”

Amy’s powers manifesting. The first time she was numb as her father beat her. The first time she looked into the bathroom mirror and watched the bruise and the bloody cut on her face disappear all on their own. The panic. The countless times Amy would lay with her mother and heal her after her father hurt her, and cry soundlessly at the pain that blazed through her every cell like a wild fire.

“Peter! Take her the fuck away from here!”

“It won’t help, Logan, he’s too powerful.” Hank is in her memory? No, Hank is outside. Hank is real. Hank’s yelling.

She saw her father burn a cigarette into her skin, and watch it heal. She felt the needles in her scalp as he grabbed her by the hair and threw her outside. Freak, he had called her. She felt the boiling tears and violent sobs as her own mother wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t fight for her. As much as she begged and called at the door, they didn’t open it all night. It wasn’t until morning that her father came out with a gun and threatened to shoot her unless she left. Amy watched for the second time as the cowering shape of her mother whispered ‘Go away” from behind her husband.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so very sorry. I can’t... please, I can’t stop.” Charles. His words are in her head and in the air. Charles is everywhere.

She was walking down the sidewalk in winter. A car skid in the snow, crashed, wrapped itself around a streetlight. A father was in the front seat, a mother in the passenger’s, and a child in the back. The child got the brunt of the damage, she dying. The woman was alive, muttering something. A prayer. Amelia was hugging the child into her lap. She felt like someone was repeatedly beating her with a hot frying pan, cooking her flesh as it came into contact and shattering her bones, and through the torture she smiled, because if it hurt it meant the child was alive.

She is being shaken. Someone is screaming in pain. She is screaming in pain. The high-pitched howl chokes up as she realizes it is her own throat that is screeching. She’s kneeling on the floor. Logan holds her shoulders. He’s saying something.

“It’s okay. It’s over. It’s okay.” She leans into him and wraps her arms around him, trying to forget how the smell of his leather jacket reminds her of the dark closet at home.

“I’m sorry...” Charles is sitting on the floor, crying. She is crying.

“What was that?” Peter asks, eyes fixed on her.

“I”m so sorry, Amelia. I-” Charles’s voice breaks. He looks to Hank and ushers him to bring something over.

“The professor got into Amy’s head.” Logan growls out, still holding Amy. She is latched onto him like wet kitten, scared and desperate, expecting an attack from all sides.

Hank hands Charles a syringe filled with yellow liquid. “His powers are unreliable recently. They can be quite dangerous,” Hank defends his mentor and friend.

Charles tugs up his sleeve and places the needle at his vein.

“Charles, wait!” Logan commands. “We need to find Raven. You’re the only one who can do that. But only if you have your powers.”

Charles laughs dryly. “Did you not see what I just did to Amy? You think I can use Cerebro in this state?” he shouts, but he brings the needle away from his arm.

“We need to try,” Logan says, standing up and bringing Amy with him. She is shaking, and she still hasn’t stopped crying.

Charles glances between Logan, Peter, Hank, and Amy. His gaze lingers on her, on her red eyes and runny nose, the way she her body shudders as she takes deep breaths. “There’s no way. I can’t do it. We failed. That’s it. It’s over!”

“Peter, take her to the kitchen, please.” Logan turned to the silver kid. Peter holds her up and guides her away, walking slowly for once.

“Wait,” Amy mutters as she grabs a fistful of Peter’s silver jacket and turns to look at Charles. She feels like she’s just woken up from a nightmare and she can’t quite trust her senses yet because the dream hasn’t fully left her.

Charles looks down at his feet, useless before him. Though, not more useless than the rest of him, he thinks.

“If you’re going to do it, don’t do it for my sake.” she whispers to her own feet which barely hold her up as she leans on Peter. She wipes away her tears and sniffles in an attempt to compose herself. Her next words come out bitter. “Don’t use me as your excuse.”

“Amy, I never-” Charles tries halfheartedly to explain himself.

“If you’re going to claim you lost control, save it. You know I’ve heard that before. It’s time you gained control, don’t you think? Professor?” The way she says Professor is accusing, almost mocking. She keeps her head down as she turns again, letting Peter lead her away. Then, just at the doorway, unsure if he can still hear her, she says “I’ve met enough addicts in my life to recognize one when I see one.”

Part 5 - Part 7 (WIP)

[padfootagain]

All That The Wind Carries

Chapter  1 : One Year, Two Schools

So... this is a story I’ve been posting on fanfiction.net, but I have a massive writer block on it. So I’m trying to edit it to get back to it. I’ll be posting the chapters here too as I edit them, I’m sure It's going to give me some motivation.

This is an AU. It’s Jily and Blackinnon. It’s gonna be a long ride... I hope you all like it. Tell me what you think about it :)

Word Count : 5350

It was strange not to go to back Hogwarts.

It was strange not to go to the train station, not to run through the wall to the platform 9 3/4, not to hear the sound of the train as it was about to start its trip to Scotland.

It was strange not to walk with Sirius through the Muggle crowd, not to hug Remus and Peter on the platform after weeks without seeing his best friends, not to recognize Lily's hair coming out of the blue through a cloud of smoke.

It was strange to think that he wouldn't be at the feast this year, nor play a few pranks at the new students, nor see the Sorting Ceremony.

It was strange to think that he would not walk to his dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower, relieved to abandon his robes for his pyjamas, and claim a good night of sleep in the welcoming school he loved so much.

Instead, James was walking in Muggle clothes towards the portal of a private High School in London.

A Muggle school.

All around him, no one was wearing robes, nor holding wands. They were in uniforms, but only with a black tie, a white shirt and black trousers. No one was wearing gold and red, nor blue, yellow, or green. He knew that they didn't have schoolbooks about charms or potions in their bags, but chemistry and literature.

He didn't recognize anything as he walked through the wooden gates and into the schoolyard. The walls were all made of stones, and there were trees that grew through the paved yard, just like they did at the magical castle, but it wasn't his school. He couldn't find back this feeling of coming home that he felt every time he walked into Hogwarts.

Clearly, Saint Peter School was nothing like Hogwarts.

Although, there were some things that never changed...

"Well, that's what I call a statue," Sirius said, whistling and nodding towards the impressive statue of Saint Peter that seemed to watch over the yard, its serious figure staring at them with a disapprobative glance. "Even in Hogwarts, this lad would look proud."

"It would make a good friend for Mourning Myrtle," James answered.

Sirius laughed, but the boy on their right merely rolled his eyes.

"We haven't been here for five minutes, and you're already being stupid," Remus complained.

"Come on, Moony, you can't deny it was funny!" Peter protested, finally catching up on his friends.

There was a flash of red, like a wave of fire through the crowd, and even if James could only see it for a second, he recognized to whom this hair belonged in an instant. His heart started to beat faster into his chest, and he felt his stomach doing crazy flip-flops.

"So... Ginger Devil's already here, hey..." Sirius said, a mischievous smile badly hidden on his face.

James merely walked on his friend's foot purposefully.

"Don't start, Padfoot."

"Come on, Prongs, relax. I'm sure you'll finally manage to seduce her this year. After all, she didn't jinx you that much last year... she only made your head swell once, okay, but it wasn't that bad..."

"If this was supposed to make me feel better, it didn't, Pads."

"You're always so touchy when it comes to Evans..." Sirius complained.

"Well, I don't know, perhaps it's because I've tried to convince her to go out with me for years and that all I ever received from her are shouts and jinxes."

"You don't have the most delicate techniques though."

"Oh, shut up!"

Remus chuckled, patting James's shoulder.

"Don't worry. You're Head boy now after all. And she's Head girl. You'll have plenty of occasions to hang out with her, and chat, and... try to seduce her."

James heaved a sigh.

"I hate you, guys."

"We know you don't, Prongs," Peter replied, laughing.

Sirius finally recognized the group of Hogwarts students that stood in a corner of the yard.

"Looks like we've found our classmates," he said, walking towards them, his friends following close.

They shook hands with Frank Longbottom and Caradoc Dearborn, along with some Hufflepuffs who played in the Quidditch team. But when James recognized Severus Snape in the crowd, apparently talking to Bellatrix Black, he couldn't help but frown.

"I didn't think we would see any Slytherin here," he mumbled.

"Apparently, they all came," Frank said.

"Why?" asked Peter.

"Trouble I guess," the Hufflepuff Seeker answered. "I'm sure they hope to fuck up the whole program. You know?' Muggles and Wizards will never be able to live peacefully together' and all the shit."

"Yeah, I bet they're hoping it will go ill..." Remus nodded gloomily.

"I don't reckon it would have been easy even without them..." Sirius said, nodding towards a group of Muggle students who were staring at them like they were animals in a zoo.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I guess... we all have to get used to it, that's all," Remus reassured him.

"Hmm... not so sure."

"Don't be pessimistic, Padfoot."

"All I'm saying is that... if there are some students coming from Hogwarts who want to make all of this fuck up because they're too stupid to think that we could all live as equals and in peace, you can be sure that some students from this High School will think exactly the same. We'll have allies and foes on both sides, and it's naive to think the contrary."

"It freaks me out when you actually speak intelligent things, Pads."

"Fuck off, Moony."

"Here, sounds more like you."

On the other side of the schoolyard, another group, made this time of Muggle students, had formed. They were looking at the Wizards and Witches with curious expressions...

"You think they're the students that we're going to study with?" Frank asked the four Gryffindor boys.

"I guess," James shrugged."Apparently, they started class yesterday, they already know who their referent teacher is."

"And we didn't have our traditional feast..." Peter complained.

"I guess we'll just have to follow them to class then," Dearborn said.

James merely shrugged again in response. But the suspense was not to remain for long. Soon, Albus Dumbledore, followed closely by Professor McGonagall and a Muggle woman who seemed to be the Headmistress of the Muggle school, walked into the yard.

"Your attention, please, children," Dumbledore said, in his loud and warm voice.

All the Wizards and Witches approached him in an instant to listen to his speech, though the Muggle students seemed more hesitant. But they approached anyway, and listened as well to the Headmaster of the Wizarding school.

"All of you who are gathered here have volunteered to be part of this program, that I hope, shall prove to the world what we all believe in. That Wizards and Muggles can live in peace, together. It's been five years now since our existence was revealed to the eyes of Muggles. And I'm sure that there is no need to remind you that the situation between our two communities have never been more uncertain. Many of us, in both sides, have suffered from all this hate, and I am sad at the thought that we all shall suffer from it again before it is all over."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"But this is our chance to show the World that hate can be overcome," he went on. "This is our chance to show to all who still doubt that we can live peacefully, and that we all have things to teach and learn from each other."

The Headmistress of Saint Peter school stepped forward, and came next to Dumbledore.

"Until February you shall all study here, at Saint Peter School," she said in a very high-pitched voice. "During this time, you shall spend half the day together, studying Muggle classes. During the other part of the day, the Wizards and Witches will follow their own classes, so they can get prepared for their NEWTs. After February, you will all be sent to Hogwarts, the Wizarding school, where you will all follow Wizarding classes half the day. Muggle students will next be separated from Wizards to follow their own lessons and prepare their own exams that are coming at the end of the year. Thus, both Muggle and Wizarding students shall be ready to pass their own examinations."

"I hope you will remember," Dumbledore went on, his tone serious, but full of hope as well, "that this is a chance that will probably not occur again before a very long time. And if things were to turn ill, the tensions between our two communities would only rise. So, even if I know that you are only children, I expect from all of you to behave like the adults you have already started to become..."

He stared for a moment at the Gryffindors, his electric blue eyes fixed upon the four boys.

"Now, I guess we should all get to work," he added, and there were sparkles of mischief back in his eyes.

It was McGonagall's turn to step forward.

"Before I tell you which class you are going to follow this morning, and thus with which Muggle students you're going to study until February, I'd like to remind you that as long as you are studying Muggle classes, you cannot use Magic."

She intensely stared at Sirius and James.

"Is it clear for everyone here?"

They all nodded, though it was hard for the two boys not to laugh.

"We can begin then," Dumbledore nodded, but he was awful at hiding the smile that curved up his lips.

"The four houses shall be mixed with four classes from Saint Peter School," McGonagall said. "Ravenclaws shall follow Mrs Arthur's students to Mathematics lesson."

The Ravenclaws followed the group of students who started to leave the yard and head for the stairs.

"Slytherins shall go join the class of Mr Lewis for English literature."

The Slytherins followed the second group of Muggles that left the yard in silence.

"Hufflepuffs will follow the class of Mrs Willows for Physics and Chemistry."

The Hufflepuffs disappeared as well. And now, there were only the Gryffindors left, along with ten Muggle teenagers that stared at them as if they were in a circus...

"Gryffindors, you shall go to History class with Mrs Hamilton."

When James turned around towards the Muggle students they were already leaving the yard, and heading towards an impressive wooden staircase that climbed into the main building directly to the third floor. They then turned left and walked down a corridor, that seemed dusty and smelled like moist.

All along, no one talked. No one really knew how to start a normal conversation. No one really knew what they were supposed to do, except walking to class. And so they did just that, and James tried to memorize the map of the school already. He guessed it was just a reflex after all these years spent mapping Hogwarts.

First one corridor on the left, then turn right, second door on the left, climb up a flight of stairs, and then the third door on the left.

A Muggle boy opened the blue door, upon which the old paint was cracking, letting guess the colour of the wood under the worn-out colours. But instead of stepping inside, he turned towards the rest of the students.

"Hi," he breathed.

He sounded like he was afraid of these unknown faces. Lily merely smiled at him, a reassuring warmth in her green eyes.

"Hi," she answered, a little laugh in her voice.

She sounded amused. James had stopped looking at the Muggle guy. He could never look at anything but Lily when she smiled anyway...

"Mrs Hamilton won't arrive before 15 minutes," the Muggle boy went on. "Apparently, they thought it was best if we explained how the school works before our first class."

Remus smiled and nodded, encouraging the boy to continue.

"To make sure that we would all interact with each other, our teachers have already decided for us where we would sit in class."

James and Sirius exchanged a horrified glance... If McGonagall was involved in this, they would never be able to sit next to each other this year...

"So, the list is here on the teacher's desk. Let's go and find our seat, shall we?" the boy went on, before stepping into the classroom, and heading towards the long and old wooden desk at the front of the classroom.

Everyone gathered around him to take a look at the sketch of the room, searching for their names on the piece of paper.

And McGonagall was most definitely involved in this...

"Oh, Fuck!"

They all turned towards Sirius. His eyes were round, he looked absolutely horrified.

"I'm on the second row! I'll kill McGonagall for this!"

James finally spotted his name. He was on the first row, next to the door, on the right of the classroom. Sirius was on the second row, on the opposite side, next to the windows. There was no way they could interact during classes without being noticed.

"Shit, man... She's got to be kidding me!" he breathed.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"We've been in class for less than two minutes, and you're already complaining..."

"It does suck, though..." James replied. "I bet you won't be particularly happy to learn that you're at the back of the class either, are you?"

"What!?"

Whilst the Gryffindors were complaining about their position in the classroom, the Muggle students had all walked to their seat, without a single word.

"At least we're together Lils, look," Alice reassured her.

Lily smiled at her friend.

"You're right. It's not that bad."

Meanwhile, Sirius had walked to his seat, and let himself fall in his chair with a desperate sigh. Remus merely chuckle when he walked next to him to reach his own seat.

"It's not that bad," he told Sirius, as he sat two rows behind the boy.

Sirius merely glared at him.

"I hate you," he said, which only made his friend laugh harder.

Marlene McKinnon sat right before Sirius.

"Oh, wonderful..." he sighed, but this time his tone wasn't annoyed, it was mischievous. "Now, I even have an arse before me."

The blond girl turned around, glaring at him.

"Don't start, Black."

"Start what?"

"Calling me things like 'arse'. Don't you know you're not supposed to insult people every time you open your fucking mouth?"

"Language!"

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on, I just said you were an arse..." Sirius went on. "...And a lovely one too, by the way."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Don't start."

"Start what?"

But she merely turned back towards the board, and chose to ignore him.

"She doesn't seem to like you very much."

Sirius turned towards the black haired girl behind him.

"Nah... she likes me," he answered.

He offered the girl his open hand, staring right into her big blue eyes.

"I'm Sirius, by the way."

"Angel," she answered, shaking his hand.

He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was...

"So... how is that teacher of yours?" he asked.

"She's okay I think."

"Yeah, she's a kind woman," the blond boy next to Sirius added.

"Is there any teacher we should be worried about?" James asked from the other side of the classroom.

"Arthur is very strict," the boy answered. "And Mr Howley is completely crazy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he teaches biology. He's fucked up. You'll see. We have class with him right after Mrs Hamilton's lesson."

"When will we have our time tables ?" Lily asked.

"No idea," the boy shrugged. "Probably this morning."

They were finally all talking together. For sure, of not very important things, but still...

It felt good to see the ice melt between them all.

It was the moment their teacher chose to walk through the door and enter the room. She was young, not older than thirty, with long blond curls falling on her shoulders. She grinned at the sight of the teenagers all talking together across the room.

"Ha, I can see that you're talking together already. Perfect, I was scared you would all be a bit shy at first."

She walked to the desk, and put her coat on her chair, before sitting on her wooden desk, rearranging her blue dress.

"I'm Mrs Hamilton, and I teach History. I will also be your referent teacher in the Muggle school," she added for the Wizarding students. "So, if your Head of House is not at Saint Peter, it is me you have to call for. Before we start, I'd like you all to quickly present yourselves to the class. Let's start with you."

She pointed at James, and the boy merely shrugged in response, getting up and saying his name.

"What is your favourite class at Hogwarts, James," she asked.

"Transfiguration," he answered without an hesitation.

"What is it?" the teacher asked, an obvious curiosity in her voice.

"It's the Magic used to change the form of objects."

"Could you make us a demonstration?"

James shrugged again, and took his wand out of his pocket. In the back of the class, Lily cleared her throat.

"We are not supposed to use Magic during Muggle classes, professor," Lily told her.

"I'm sure your teachers will forgive you if I am the one who actually asks to use Magic, Miss..."

"Evans, Lily Evans."

The teacher nodded, before focusing on James one more time.

"So... could you show us?"

James turned towards the Muggle girl sitting next to him. He pointed his wand at her book, and with a quick flick of his wand, the pages turned into feathers, and a beautiful raven was soon walking upon her desk.

All the Muggles in the class looked at the animal in awe.

"That's beautiful, James! " the teacher clapped.

Another flick of his wand, and the bird had disappeared, the history book back on the desk.

"Well, thank you, James," Mrs Hamilton nodded. "Now, please, everyone, when you present yourself, tell us also what your favourite class is, and for the Wizards and Witches, a demonstration is more than welcome."

All the students rose one by one, and spells were cast (Sirius's firework in the shape of a dog was clapped for a long while), until it was Remus's time to stand and tell his name.

"My favourite class is Defence Against the Dark Arts," he explained.

"Dark Arts? What are these?" Angel asked.

"Dark Magic. Magic can be used to hurt people as well. And there are some magical creatures that use this kind of powers against humans too. It teaches us how to defend ourselves."

"But, you mean that only creatures can use Dark Magic?"

"No. We are taught how to defend ourselves against dark creatures. But we are also taught how to fight."

"So... you can use your Magic to hurt people as well..."

A rumour shook the Muggles gathered in the room.

"We are not supposed to. But there are evil people in both the Muggle and the Wizarding world," Remus tried to explain. "If we have this kind of class, it is to avoid that people could use Magic with evil means."

But it wasn't enough to stop all the whispering.

"Could you show us one of the spells, Remus, please?" the teacher asked.

He thought for a moment, before closing his eyes and raising his wand, a smile slowly forming on his face.

"Expecto Patronum," he said.

And all the whispers died out when a white wolf came out of the boy's wand and walked across the room in mid-air. It was like light in the shape of an animal. When Remus made his patronus disappear, the whole class clapped, and it seemed that the mention of Dark Wizards was forgotten.

But not quite yet...

"What do you use this spell for?" the black haired boy next to him, called Joey, asked.

"It's used to repulse Dementors," Remus answered.

"Dementors?"

"They are Dark creatures, they nourish themselves on happy memories. They steal all the joy from the world around them."

"How lovely..." Angel snorted.

"They are also the guardians of the Wizarding prison here, in Britain. It's called Azkaban."

"So... you have a prison especially for Wizards?" Joey asked.

"Yes, of course."

"So there are dangerous Wizards out there..."

"Like there are dangerous Muggles," Sirius answered in Remus's stead.

"So it's true what they say..." Joey went on, ignoring Sirius's remark. "About this Wizard and his followers."

Remus took a careful look at Marlene.

"Yes, it's true," he said slowly.

"Like the Free Minds Movement is real on the Muggle side," Sirius added, but he was once again ignored.

"So... there are Wizards who want to kill Muggles," Joey insisted.

"And there are Muggles who want to kill Wizards," Sirius replied.

"There is evil in both the Muggle and the Wizarding societies. It doesn't mean that we can't show everyone that there is nothing to fear in sharing our two worlds," Lily said.

"I know, it's just..." Joey stuttered. "Don't get me wrong, if I'm here it's because I want to learn about Magic and everything, but... It's still scary to think that some people are ready to do pretty much anything to make sure that we will never live together in peace. "

"But... I heard that some Wizarding families were attacked as well by this... Voldemort or something..." Angel asked.

Peter winced.

"Don't say his name," he shrieked, and Angel blushed as she saw terror in his eyes.

"It's just a name, Peter," James replied, his voice deadly cold. "Don't react like that, like you were just a coward."

"James is right," Marlene said slowly. "It's just a name. It is this kind of reaction that have led us to this situation. To fear and sorrow..."

All the Gryffindors stared intensely at her, and there was a moment of silence, broken by the teacher when she cleared her throat. None of the Muggles could understand why they were all staring at her this way, but it was obvious that something terrible had happened, or would happen...

"Let's continue," Mrs Hamilton said. "Maggie, it's your turn," she added to the girl sitting next to Remus.

Once everyone had been introduced to the class, Mrs Hamilton jumped down from her desk, and picked up a white chalk, turning towards the blackboard.

"Alright, there isn't much time left for the lesson, but we'll start anyway. Please, take out your notebooks and pencils. This year, we'll start by studying the 1920s..."

She turned around as the class was shaken by a wave of whispers.

"What is it?" she asked her students.

The Wizards and Witches had picked up their parchment, quill and dark ink from their bag, and the Muggles couldn't refrain their chuckles.

"Wait, are you serious?" Maggie asked Remus.

"What's wrong?" James asked.

"You use quills?" Joey asked, aghast.

"Yes..." James answered, narrowing his eyes. "What about it?"

"Why do you not use pens and pencils?"

"I don't know... we all use quills and parchment," James merely answered with a shrug.

"When you will be done with talking about quills and paper," the teacher interrupted the two boys, an amused smile curving up her lips, "let me know, so we can begin the lesson."

They immediately stopped talking, and turned again towards the blackboard, to copy the title of the first chapter they would study that year.

"So, what happened during this period?" the teacher asked the class. "And for the Wizards and Witches, you can tell us about this period too of course. It is History class, and I intend to study both History of the Muggle and the Wizarding World with you this year."

As always, Lily's hand was the first to rise.

"Yes Lily, go on," the teacher nodded.

"The 1920s were mostly marked by the raise of the Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald. He was very active in Europe and America during this period of time. It was also the period of rebuilding after the War..."

"Wait... do you mean that you fought during World War I?" Joey asked, aghast.

"And World War II," James nodded.

"Really?"

James nodded.

"What kind of fighting did you do?" the teacher asked.

"Normal fighting," Sirius shrugged.

"The British Communication Center is known to have been the most efficient and the safest service for the exchange of information during the two World Wars," Lily answered. "The British army was also most feared for its knowledge in dragons warfare."

"You used dragons?" Angel gasped.

Lily nodded.

"The British army was very good at it," she said, but there was a bitterness in her voice, like she didn't approve the use of magical creatures.

James smiled. It wasn't surprising that someone like Lily would not approve...

"What about this dark Wizard you were mentioning?" the teacher asked Lily.

"Gellert Grindelwald was a Dark Wizard. He wanted to reveal the existence of Wizards to the Muggles, because he thought it would provoke a war between us. And he thought Wizards could win it."

There was a heavy silence across the classroom for a moment.

"Why did he want to do that?" Mrs Hamilton asked.

"He thought that Wizards and Witches should not have to hide and be afraid of Muggles. He thought they were more powerful. He saw Muggles as enemies."

"Why did you hide in the first place though?" Angel asked.

"There are less Wizards and Witches in the World than Muggles," Peter answered. "To protect ourselves, and our traditions, we thought it was best to hide."

"By separating the two communities, it insured a certain peace," Remus went on. "Muggles usually don't like much Wizards and Witches."

"It was a long time ago though, the time when we used to burn Witches," Joey said.

James laughed.

"You never burnt any Witch. An elementary spell allows us to be completely protected of fire."

"You only killed Muggles this way, not witches," Sirius nodded.

"But the persecution was still there. Witches and Wizards were always hated, and they grew afraid quickly," Remus said. "It was best for everyone to separate the two worlds."

"What was your reaction when your society was revealed to us?" the teacher asked the Wizarding students.

James shrugged.

"It changed many things on a daily basis, that's for sure. I don't think they changed for the worst though. We don't have to be as cautious as before."

"What about you?" Mrs Hamilton asked Lily.

The girl shrugged.

"I'm a Muggleborn, so..."

"A what?" Angel asked.

"Both my parents are Muggles," Lily explained. "Although, I have Magical abilities."

"So... even with Muggle parents, you can be able to make magic?"

"It is quite rare though," Lily nodded.

"So you already knew everything about us," the teacher smiled.

Lily nodded, smiling as well.

"Now I can practice my spells in my garden without fear of being seen by my Muggle neighbours during the Summer," Lily smiled.

They were interrupted by the ringing of a bell, signalling the end of the class, and soon everyone was walking towards the door. But Sirius couldn't help but notice that Marlene was taking her time to pack up her things.

A bit too much for it to be natural indeed...

"Hey, McKinnon, you're okay?" he asked.

She looked up at him. He seemed genuinely worried, which was rare enough to be noticed. Sirius was never worried about anything. He was the always-confident-always-reckless-and-childish Sirius Black.

Or at least, he never showed his worry to her...

"I'm fine, Black," she answered.

"You'd better hurry, or you'll get lost throughout the school without your Muggle guides," the teacher told them, smiling.

They both hurried out of the classroom and into the corridor, and soon found back their classmates. But Marlene didn't seem so keen to join the rest of the students, and so Sirius remained with her, a few strides behind their friends.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Her tone was cold, and defensive. It was a tone he knew only too well. He had used it for years with James and Remus. It was the tone that allowed him to run away from conversations. It was the tone he used when he didn't want to answer a question.

It was the tone he used to avoid talking about his family.

"Look," he said slowly, "with all you've been through this summer..."

"I don't want to talk about that now, Black."

"I know, I just mean..."

"I don't need your pity, Black," she spat.

He stopped her before she could follow their classmates into the new classroom.

"It's not what I meant..." he added. "Pity is not what I had in mind."

She looked up at him. To prevent her from joining the others in the classroom, he had caught her by the arm. His hold was firm, but gentle as well. It was reassuring, somehow, like the gesture of a friend.

"I... I won't say that I know what it is to lose your family, to lose both your parents..." he went on, in a low whisper, making sure that no one could eavesdrop their conversation. "But I know what it is to find yourself in the home of a friend, and to have to act as if it was your own."

She could see that he was confessing something very personal, something he had probably never told anyone. She was transfixed, merely able to stare at his hypnotic grey eyes.

"I know what it is to unpack your suitcase in the home of your best friend," he went on, "and to have to start over. So... if you need to talk about that, you can come and see me, okay?"

She wanted to laugh. Sirius Black offering her his help... it was hilarious. Or well, under any other circumstances it would have been. The subject of their conversation was everything but funny though...

She gave him a sad smile.

"Thank you, I'll think about it."

He nodded, letting go of her.

"Let's go for a new adventure then," he said, his mischievous smile back on his lips, as he pointed at the classroom.

"What is it supposed to be about again?" she asked.

"Bio... something."

"I have a bad feeling about this class," she shook her head, starting towards the open door.

But Sirius was frozen on the spot, staring at something down the corridor, a serious frown on his face. Marlene followed his gaze.

Down the corridor, some Slytherins were talking together and he could easily recognize them from where he stood : Snape, Avery, Lestrange and Bella Black. Anyone who didn't know them would have thought they were not less innocent than any teenager in the school. But Sirius knew better. He had seen through their games a long while ago. He knew they were playing a game of appearances. They were wearing masks of innocence, only to hurt more in the end.

When he spoke again, his voice sounded stern and cold.

"I have a bad feeling about this entire year..."

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