#very proud of him for continuing to be a team player even when he’s unhappy

[insignificant457]

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Voyage - Bit 2)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2

As I continue to write the Prologue, have a little Lee Taylor and Jeff with some Johnny and Scott on the side.

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ and @janetm74​ for the ongoing support, as well as my technical advisor @onereyofstarlight​ for the geek out fest on the weekend ::hugs you all::

I hope you enjoy this. I’m certainly enjoying the challenge :D

-o-o-o-

Jeff stared after his son for a long moment. Emotion swirled in his head and tangled with his stomach. That lightspeed jump did mess with his innards more than he would admit.

But Virgil’s words messed him up even more.

What weren’t they telling him? What had happened to Scott while he was gone?

He had read a good percentage of the mission reports and backtracked through Tracy Industries’ history over that eight years. Scott’s conduct was exemplary. He couldn’t be prouder. Both organisations had flourished under his sons’ management, Scott being the major driving force, but his younger sons stepping in where needed.

Hell, even Gordon had dabbled in aquaculture and Tracy Industries was now a major player on that front.

Something soured in his gut that had nothing to do with lightspeed travel. Perhaps he needed to be a little more honest with himself. Maybe things had gone so well, that in truth, his return wasn’t really needed.

Scott was brilliant, his brothers…hell, Jeff was ever so proud. His sons were everything. They had accomplished so much.

But what did that leave for Jeff?

He cursed under his breath, disgusted with himself. His natural competitive tendencies did not need to be deployed against his own children.

But that vacant feeling of loss and lack of purpose swelled. He hadn’t even thought about not going on this mission. He had grabbed it like a lifeline and now, somehow, he had managed to alienate those brilliant young sons and caused pain and worry where he had no intention.

“Jeff? Where the hell are you?”

Lee.

Despite himself, Jeff smiled.

Pushing off from the bed, he floated through the door and into the corridor. Lee was expertly manoeuvring down one wall, his experience showing in every movement. “I have to say that this baby of yours definitely hits the spot. I’ll have two for the Mars colony, please.”

Jeff snorted. “Get in line. The GDF are already on my back.”

Lee pulled up alongside. “You gonna give them one?”

“I doubt it.” He sighed. “Val is ready to vouch, but from what I’ve read from the last eight years…I don’t think they can be trusted.”

“Then what are you going to do?” They drifted down the corridor towards the mess. “This technology is a great step forward.”

“Yeah. So much power, Lee. I’ve worried about the Thunderbirds getting into the wrong hands. This….hell…Brains and Michael make a formidable team.”

“Your boys make a formidable team, Jeff. You should be proud.”

“I am.”

Lee pulled him to a halt with a hand. “Then what the hell are you doing out here, Jeff? Gerry had me on the pipeline frantic.”

Jeff blinked. “Gerry?”

“The swimming one.”

“Oh, Gordon?”

Lee waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, whatever. But he was upset. Said you were trying to kill yourself.”

“What?!”

“Said your health wasn’t up to a long space flight. I know you know better than that, Colonel.” Blue eyes pinned him.

Oh, for the love of-

“I’m fine, Lee.”

“Bullshit. You may not be using that cane of yours, but I saw your medical charts when you got back. You fried your bones good, and your circulation has seen better days. Don’t think I’m an idiot. Gerry may be the excitable one, but he’s not dumb. Hell, even I can see Vinnie and Steve ain’t happy either.”

Jeff stared at him, caught between outrage that his best friend still couldn’t remember his sons’ names and the thought that Lee was also ganging up on him along with those sons.

“I am perfectly capable of handling this voyage. It is short. It is safe.”

Lee snorted with derision. “I know you know that there is nothing ‘safe’ about any space voyage, Jeff. Hell, you’re the one who taught me that. What are you playing at?”

That got his back up. “What am I playing at? Berry and Ju are missing, Lee.”

“Don’t you trust your boys?”

“I trust them!”

“Then let them do their jobs. You’ve done enough.”

Jeff glared at him. “I don’t see you retiring your space legs.”

“I didn’t go missing for eight years and fry my bones. You don’t have to do this. Your boys will find Berry and Ju. I’ve seen them in action. You should trust them.”

Jeff’s shoulders dropped. “I do.” It was an exhale. But... “Lee, I have to. I can’t sit on the sidelines anymore.”

Blue eyes stared at him, appraising. They weren’t unlike his eldest son’s eyes and probably shared the gene through Lucille.

The thought of his wife clenched his heart like it always did. Lee didn’t look much like his sister, but there were traces.

“Well, you’ve argued your ass out here. Looks like you’ve pissed half your family off in the process. I’d tread carefully. That eldest of yours looks ready to chew iron.”

Jeff grunted.

Lee reached out and grabbed an arm. “They’re good boys.” A swallow. “Lucy would be very, very proud.”

It was targeted and it hit perfectly. His throat tightened just a little. “I know.”

No more than breath. “I know.”

-o-o-o-

“I want to know why.”

John looked up from his tablet to see Scott floating in the doorway.

The astronaut knew this was coming. Hence his retreat to Thunderbird Five for a ‘systems check’.

“Because Dad needs this.” He turned back to his tablet, poked the device and shut down the scan he was running.

Scott pushed off the door frame and pivoted to a vertical stance - as a commanding posture as he could get in zero-g.

John raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, forcing himself to relax in his partially seated position. He knew his brother was unhappy with him and he understood why. So, the question was a pertinent one.

“Dad does not need more illness and that is exactly where this is leading.”

“We won’t be out here that long.”

“How do you know? We don’t know what has happened? We won’t know fully until we are on site.”

John let his brother’s ire wash over him. “Scott, what are you going to do the day they say you can no longer fly?”

Blue eyes stared at him a moment. “What has that got to do with anything?”

John’s lips thinned. “Deny it all you want, but you know exactly what I mean.” He held his brother’s glare. “Dad has been grounded for nearly two years. Put yourself in his place. How do you think you would feel?”

He could see the inner turmoil on his big brother’s face. He hated going against Scott. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen and each time it hurt because it felt so wrong. Someone had to stand up for Dad in this and John feared the day he would be in his father’s place. To not be able to go into space. To never be able to see the stars unfettered by atmosphere again…he dreaded it. Just like he knew Scott dreaded losing his wings.

It was inevitable and they would both fight it as long as they could.

Just like their father.

But understanding didn’t make it any easier from a son’s perspective either. John knew in intimate detail exactly what his father’s health issues were. He empathised with him in ways that perhaps only Alan amongst his brothers could possibly understand. If he wasn’t careful, this was his future, too. Perhaps not as severe, perhaps not quite the same, but the risks were there.

His father’s cane reminded him every time he saw it.

Scott had already changed his rota on Five, Alan standing in more often, John on solid ground enough for cursed gravity to keep his systems running as they should.

Virgil had become hypervigilant as well, medical checks increased. He had once caught Dad’s chart up on display right next to his own, Virgil’s eyes comparing symptoms, obviously worried towards preventing issues before they happened in his little brother.

It had been a taxing couple of years.

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” It was grudging. “But it doesn’t remove the fact that his health is at risk. After all he’s been through…he’s been hurt enough.”

“Him or us?”

“Excuse me?”

“We have all been through hell and back. This isn’t just about Dad, Scott. I know. I’m just as scared as you.” He was, but he was shunting it away. He couldn’t afford it. “But this is who he is. You know that. He’s not going to wrap himself in a blanket, sit in a chair and rock his life away. If he did, he wouldn’t be Dad.” He blinked. “How do you see your twilight years? Are you going to slow down any time soon?”

“John-“

“He’s got all of us. He’s not alone out here. We’ll keep him safe.”

Blue eyes continued to stare at him, but there were no more words for a long time.

John simply stared back, calm and waiting.

“I am so angry at you.” The words slipped from his brother’s lips in frustration.

“I know.” John tilted his head just slightly. “Because you know I’m right.”

Scott got angry a lot, but he was rarely blinded by it. He couldn’t afford to be. And while Virgil tackled their big brother in his own way, John, in the few times Scott turned to him in this kind of situation, found that waiting him out with calm words usually worked. Not always, sometimes his brother just exploded more. But this time, this time John knew he was right and that Scott would understand, if he would listen.

His brother’s lips thinned, obviously with reluctance. “I want a medical monitor on him at all times. I want Five trained on him at all times.”

John arched an eyebrow, reached over and thumbed a switch. Their father’s vitals flickered into all their holographic glory. “Virgil already beat you to it. Wouldn’t let him on board without it.”

Those eyes tracked the readouts but Scott didn’t comment. “Keep an eye on him.”

John sighed and picked up his tablet again. As if he would do anything else. “Just like I do with all of you. They don’t call me the ‘Eye in the Sky’ for nothing.”

A grunt and Scott moved back towards the door. John poked at his tablet and resumed the scan he had been running. It wasn’t often humans were in this chunk of space and he planned to record everything he could.

If he was non-verbally dismissing his brother, it was on purpose. Scott needed to process and John was not needed for that.

And John had work to do before they jumped again.

He didn’t notice his brother leave.

-o-o-o-

Next

[digitalvoidheart]

A Pixelated New Moon

This is a random idea I came up when extremely down in the dumps and also wanted to try writing angst for the first time... (also new moon is a moon completely shadowed soit's basically something in the oneshot)

Also, this is a random au I made up where everyone's life is in a multiplayer game. I know not very original but pls enjoy!

Players/Characters:

♠ Moon (passive nightmare)

♠Nightmare (corrupted nm and a separate being)

♠Horror

♠Killer

♠Dust

♠Cross

Moon knew his team was unstoppable and was proud of it.

Horror, even with that cracked skull from a false 1v1 (his opponent had an accomplice hidden for a sneak attack, Horror came out victorious eventually), his agility is unaffected and he can pack a punch with his attacks.

He may say that he lacks in the defense department but when it comes to combat, he usually attacks when the team is surrounded, creating a soundwave-like attack with his bone weapon constructs, giving him the title of the team's main offence.

Next comes Dust. He's a mysterious one if Moon had to be honest. Not only did he refuse to narrate his backstory or history of his previous teams, but his level on all skills seemed to be on par. No one knows what he specializes in wether it is defense, healing or combat because he has activated his hidden card. A special item which hides the stats of the player. An expensive item but with the high level he's in, it's possible for him to own one.

He could protect the team in one second, heal Horror the next and attacking side by side with Nightmare on the next, all mid battle. Moon found it very impressive.

Another dangerous member is Killer. He may not have the same knockout attacks as Horror, nor the magic abilities like Dust, but he makes up the team by his traitorous speed. His slump posture may make it seem he's lazy but he's far from that.

He could land a good amount of slashes onto his opponent in the least amount of time, immobilizing them temporarily sometimes. He doesn't fear much, proven by the wide cocky grin plastered on at all times and the fact that he chooses close range attacks while his target shaped SOUL was always within the enemy's grasp? Deliciously terrifying.

Lastly, Nightmare. The leader of the team, one who plans ahead, always knowing way the opponents are thinking. He has the highest level compared to everyone under his wing, the aforementioned trio having a small reduction to reach his level, and Moon a LARGE one.

He didn't even know why he was needed in the team. Horror's attack, Dust's magic and Killer's speed made up the perfect balance of a team. His constant request for why they need him always went unanswered by Night. He can't even leave without Nightmare's consent, that being the rules of the life-or-death game they play. Any player who wishes to leave their team has to have their removal granted by the team leader. His permission for leaving went deaf as his questions.

The trio always had their answers on them for him, albeit it's a little untrue.

"Need ya for...shieldin' me. Got low defense, r'member?" You don't need me. You've got Dust.

Dust's minute responses were similar "You're useful..." No Dust, I'm just a burden. You don't need to heal me midbattle either. Use it for Nightmare or Horror instead.

"Pretty sure 'cuz you hold up a shield better than any of us" Funny, Killer. And I'm at least another 25 levels below you guys...

He's pretty sure no one knows of his secret to try up his levels, so that's out of the options. Everyone has their share of G, albeit higher than his for earning more EXP than him for being on the offense. So why do they want him if it isn't money or battle?

His answers come to him when they enter the next quest. The blue screen appearing before each of them reading :

-

Welcome to level XX!

Here, you will be separated into two groups. Team one with any number of players will be challenged with X number of quests through the white gate while team two with one player will pass through the abyss through the black gate.

Choose wisely!

-

Oh... A sacrifice.

"I'll go" Moon smiled even when the heavy words sent a metaphorical spear to his SOUL. He can do this. It's for the team. He might not know what the quest in the abyss is but no one's returned once entering the abyss r-right? They needed him so they could pass this level. So why did it hurt to line the facts together?

"No." Nightmare deadpanned, his decision locked with no room for argument. "We'll rest up at the checkpoint and discuss who to go where tomorrow."

What? I-I'm not th- a sacrifice?

Moon's voice failed him from the assertiveness of his leader. And like that, he was lead to the previous checkpoint where they discussed at the inn for whom to go, and honestly? Moon wasn't listening at all.

This could be his chance to detach his leeching body from their assets and give them a higher chance of success! Maybe they can even find a better player with a higher level than himself to benefit the guys more. But why do they need to discuss who to go when the answer was right in front of them?

While Nightmare and the others planned for who to go, Moon made his own plan to carry out during their slumber. As the moment arrived at midnight, he slipped out to carry a few errands quests the inn offered for G and his own personal plans.

He won't let their efforts go to waste. Not when he was around.

***

The next day, the team of five made their way back to gates of the next level.

Moon spared a glance at Nightmare to see him nod at the trio. As one of them stepped closer to the black portal. It was Killer. A valuable and speedy asset to the team.

Moon let out a sigh and exhaled his message to them.

"I'm sorry"

Killer was pulled away with blue magic as his purple cloaked companion whisked past his fallen figure and into the abyss. The portal closed before any of them had time to figure out what had happened.

---

The rumours were false. The Abyss wasn't heavy. Sure, it was dark but you could still see yourself in a white outline only. And apparently, he wasn't the only one.

He watched as players teleport into the Void, some calm, others screaming and shouting for someone (probably they were betrayed by their own team) before they all are faced with a monochromatic screen. Upon his distraction, he didn't notice the exact replica of the screen in front of him as well.

-

Welcome to the abyss!

This is a test of patience and trust for your team. You will watch as your team completes their quests and at the end, choose your fate

-

It didn't say much but the pixelated screen then glitched, showing a live view of his team. They look upset and unhappy, except Nightmare.

He looked furious. If he wasn't mad with Moon before, he was now. Maybe he might allow him to leave the team. That is if he can leave the abyss in the first place.

Looking back, he noticed the distraught player a small distance away from him as they tapped on their screen.

He watched, wide-eyed as they disintegrated into pixels. Like monster dust. Death...

Although, he was quickly distracted by another monster watching through his screen.

A skeleton monster they were. The same outline white around him didn't tell the colours the monster possessed but his right eye light and lightning-bolt scar on his right cheek were red. Does that mean eyelights remain their colour?

Getting a response from the new guy was difficult. He refused to speak.

After multiple attempts Moon sighed "Could I get your name at least?" More silence from the skeleton and Moon gave up.

"It's Cross"

His head shot back at the red eyed skeleton. Before he decided to shut up himself and watch his team.

He turned in time to see Horror summon a shield himself to protect Dust from an attack. So it was a fluke. The incapability to defend himself...

"I knew it..." he said to no one but Cross turned to his direction from the screen. "They really didn't need me. It was all a lie..." tears welled up in his sockets, blurring the view of his team effectively.

"B-but why did they wanna keep me if i wasnt for a sacrifice?" He croaked. He watched as Nighmare and the guys cleared the stage in a blur.

Another thing he was. A deadweight.

Completely forgetting that he was crying near a complete stranger, he swiftly wiped his tears and residual magic from his face. He pulled up his cloak's cowl only to hear Cross speak once more.

"You're their anchor." Moon turned to Cross.

"W-what?" What did he mean by anchor?

"Having high levels means you are more likely to loose control of your mind, resulting in messes you never intended on happening. "

Eyes never leaving the team, he continued, "You were basically kept so that they have a distraction from overdoing things. Like that grey hooded guy," he pointed at Dust "he seems to keep healing the guy with a cracked skull mid battle to avoid losing his sanity from his bottomless well of magic"

Moon looked at Dust, then averted his gaze to his feet in shame.

Cross explained how the others may have benefited from him and Moon took it all in.

And even if it seemed like minutes, Moon felt like he'd been talking with him for hours and have been friends for longer.

He didn't want to leave Cross. He could take him with and show him to the team. Maybe they will accept him and-

Ping!

Moon looked up to see hi- Nightmare's team has passed through all quests and now are waiting in front of a transporter. The screen glitched once, twice before turning back to the message screen. This time, it displayed a volume symbol and a female voice spoke.

"Player Moon, your team has successfully passed through level XX. You have an option to go back to your team which costs 78000 G, or stay in the void till you disintegrate. Choose wisely on what will benefit your team."

W-what? Already? He can go back! He has enough G for three tickets from scraping all the G from his secret task job in checkpoints! He can redeem himself, apologise to Nightmare and-

"Congratulations" Cross' voice pierced through his thoughts. He was smiling, but Moon knew better.

"Come with me" he demanded.

"That's against the rules, little Moon" Cross countered. He looked over Moon's shoulder at the screen, which had apparently heard him, giving a robotic 'affirmative'. "Besides, I don't have a team to go back to nor the G to buy myself out"

Moon's eyelights began wavering as he paced. Looking at his options, he only had three.

He took deep breaths to calm himself from the edge of panic. Opening his eyes, he looked at Cross.

He was hiding sadness behind a stoic mask, wanting to be strong with Moon returning safe to his team. It crushed his Soul to know that the determination in it was slowly burning out to a flickering flame.

Cross' stats were a considerably good amount, higher than Moon's obviously. His understanding and calm during a panicked situation is admirable.

But if only one of them can leave...

Who should?

☆********☆

I'll do 3 endings after my exams so look forward to it!

1

2

3

Btw to all angst writers... HOW TF DO YOU DO IT WITHOUT HAVING TO BE SAD?!!! I was only able to write this cuz I was sad. :(

[cant-blink]

My Gigan’s Backstory

Gigan hardly knew his real parents. He still has memories of them, vague memories deep in his data banks. He knew enough to have imprinted on his own kind; he knows he’s a space-duck.

His Masters, the Nebulans, has taken him from his nest before he was even old enough to leave it. They took him in, fed him, raised him. They took lots of pictures of him, in all his babu floof glory, and made sure to save those photos for future use...

Gigan as a babu was damn near the cutest thing in existence, a cottonball with a face. He would instinctively seek cuddles for warmth and would waddle after anyone he laid eye on, chirping and peeping the entire time. He quickly won the hearts of every Nebulan that came in contact with him, and a great bond was formed between him and his adoptive ‘family’.

But good things don’t last long in my universe and when Gigan began approaching pubescence, he became increasingly more aggressive and violent. Tis a normal part of space-duck development, as the young start to learn how to hunt and fight amongst themselves. 

For Gigan, though, this natural change would become anything BUT natural. His Masters not only placed him in complete isolation in a ready-made enclosure, but also placed a ‘mind-control’ chip in his brain. A weak one, just there to ensure he doesn’t turn that aggression towards them. They deprived him of physical company, but still spoke to him through the chip. Although obviously, the conversations were rather sparse and one-sided. Most of Gigan’s days were spent sleeping or restlessly pacing around the enclosure. His only source of entertainment was when the Nebulans would teach him how to ‘hunt’. Aka, to attack anything that went through The Door. 

The Door was Gigan’s only contact with the outside world beyond his enclosure. The Nebulans would give him whatever he needed through The Door. Food, toys, or (his favorite) live prey to serve as both. He lived like this for many years, until he was a fully-grown adult. Then the Nebulans, his ‘parents’ that he came to look up to, told him that it was time for the Change. He didn’t know what this entailed, but he was excited and ready for this Initiation!

He was put under, and the modifications were made to his body, his senses, his brain. They took his natural weaponry and made them even more deadly by coating them in powerful alien alloys. They gave him power, in the form of lasers, fire, flight, teleportation, and a buzzsaw implanted into his chest. They gave him knowledge in his brain, able to access whatever information he could possibly desire (that they already had on record, of course). And most importantly....

... They downloaded his baby pictures into his memory bank. Just to humble him a bit, remind him of how cute he was.

Gigan was quite overwhelmed at first. His body stayed mostly the same in appearance, but the changes made took some getting used to. After giving him recovery time in his room, this overwhelmed feeling only increased as they FINALLY began letting Gigan out of his enclosure to practice in a training room.

This overwhelmed feeling quickly went out the window when he learned he was going to fly for the first time. He also began learning how to control his powers, and he took to the lessons pretty well. So many new ways to kill his prey, it’s great! He loved every moment of it!

Once he mastered his skills, he was finally allowed to venture into the real world to carry out missions. Much death and destruction was waged at his claws, all in the name of ‘peace’ as the Nebulans called it, and he loved every moment of it. After being confined to his room damn near his entire childhood, it was like he was able to release all that pent-up aggression on something other than his prey. And once it was all over, and his mission was a success, he would retire back in his enclosure and rest. Despite having been a prisoner in there for the longest time, he still took comfort in his nest. 

He was content living with his Masters for a while; he had food and shelter, and a purpose in carrying out whatever missions the Nebulans sent him on. 

But as time went on, he began to find that he wanted something more. He didn't know what he was missing, but something was wrong. There was a need in him, ever since he grew to adulthood, that he couldn't fulfill. It got so bad that just the sight of anything colored gold got him bothered and only agitated his aggression further.

Taking note of Gigan's increasing frustrations and unhappiness, the Nebulans came to the conclusion that he must have a mate. He deserved it and they pulled strings to obtain the finest specimen they could find, only the best for their pet space-duck! Importing the specimen, they let her into his room using The Door, and for the first time since being taken from his parents, Gigan saw another of his own kind. The Nebulans had their hopes up, for the interaction seemed peaceful as the two curiously met. All Gigan had to do was fluff out his feathers, fan his sails, and strut his stuff!

But that never happened. For this bioweapon did not court her and instead tried to force himself on her. It’s typical behavior for male space-ducks without a mate, but to not even try courtship? What's worse, when the female rejected his advances (who did this cyborg asshole think he is?!), Gigan only got increasingly more violent and with his enhanced strength and weaponry, it got real bloody really fast.

So fast, the Nebulans couldn’t even stop it from happening when Gigan killed his potential mate. It was horrified silence from the roaches, as their beloved pet finally found release on the corpse. He continued this until he tired himself out and turned to cannibalizing the remains.

Now that... was not normal.

But maybe the Nebulans did something wrong? Perhaps using The Door triggered Gigan to view her as a toy, as live prey? They tried again, and again, with different locations but with the same results. If anything, Gigan only learned how to keep his toy alive for longer. Kept in isolation most of his life, and trained to choose violence at every opportunity, Gigan had no real social skills among his own kind. His instincts to court and breed like a normal space-duck was severely stunted and the Nebulan’s repeated efforts only really reinforced in Gigan’s psychopathic mind that other creatures existed for his own personal pleasures.

They did come to accept that trying to breed their prized weapon was a lost cause. If anything, they’ll reward him with an opportunity to mate if he does a good job at his missions. Whatever makes him happy.

This arrangement made him very happy, and for a while, he thought he needed nothing more in life.

But one day, was the day something new awakened within Gigan.

It was an unusual mission; the Nebulans wanted him to help them capture a target, alive and unharmed. Their target was another bioweapon, just like him, created by a long-extinct race and flying around the cosmos destroying worlds. That kind of power could be useful, and best of all: it came with a mind-control chip of its own.

His name was Ghidorah. King Ghidorah.

The pictures did not do this dragon justice, as Gigan and the Nebulans tracked down the mind-control chip’s signature, and found the massive asteroid. From it, emerged the three-headed dragon. The GOLDEN three-headed dragon with MASSIVE sails that caught the light beautifully.

Setting his eye on the creature woke something in Gigan, for the very first time. He... He WANTED this creature, all to himself. Alive. And he can have him, once they brought this creature into Nebulan control. That was all the motivation he needed.

The battle was a dangerous one. The dragon’s intentions to kill were obvious, and for once in his life, Gigan had to hold back. He had one goal in mind, to incapacitate the dragon and bring him into Nebulan captivity. A swift and powerful strike to the middle head was all that was needed to finish the job.

The Nebulans went right to work with that mind-control chip. Gigan wanted something else, but was forced to sit out while the dragon was prepared. And when they finally did meet, the dragon spoke not a word to him. He just needed time to adjust, the Nebulans reassured the cyborg. They’ll be spending plenty of time together once their plan was ready to set in motion.

Their first mission was to Earth, to dispose of a creature called Godzilla. Ghidorah apparently already had run-ins on this planet, but was swiftly outnumbered. But now with Gigan at his side, surely the odds will lean in their favor.

And it very well nearly did. Together, Gigan, Ghidorah, and the Nebulans almost killed Godzilla. 

Until...

Something went terribly wrong. All of a sudden, Gigan lost contact with the Nebulans, for the very first time. The mind-control chips in both kaiju was de-activated, and Gigan was left on his own. Unfortunately for Godzilla, Gigan was no innocent victim under the control of malicious aliens. Mind-control or not, he functioned largely of his own accord and he quickly resumed torturing the fuck out of Godzilla.

Even dragging him to Ghidorah’s feet like a proud suitor showing off prey. 

Which Ghidorah promptly rejected and punted the fat Earth lizard away...

That’s okay, it was funny watching Godzilla fly anyway.

However, it quickly became obvious that Ghidorah was no team player and had a great disdain for Gigan. He made little effort to involve himself in the fight, beyond warding off Anguirus’s advances. This hatred even seemed to outweigh his beef with Godzilla as Ghidorah ignored his Earth-side enemy to argue against Gigan. Such vitriol from the dragon for what was an accidental collision- Wait, this wasn’t about Gigan accidentally flying into him. No, Ghidorah was blaming HIM for this whole entire mess?! THE FUCK!! 

This argument costed them the mission, Gigan attempting and failing twice to retreat back to the Nebulan ship. Only when Ghidorah was allowed to retreat did Godzilla finally let the cyborg flee alongside him.

It was a bitter blow to Gigan’s ego; not only was his attempt to impress such a beautiful mate a complete failure, but he never lost a mission so miserably. But things go from bad to worse, when Ghidorah followed him back to the ship and to his horror, proceeded to destroy it. Revenge for keeping him hostage.

It was at that moment Gigan had to choose, between his Masters, who were essentially his parents, or this beautiful dragon that he wanted so badly but whom didn’t seem to return the favor...

He chose his Masters and, despite being injured, he rushed to defend the ship with everything he’s got. Ghidorah seemed reluctant to engage in teeth-to-claw close combat, and when the hydra saw that it would take more than Gravity Beams to keep this cyborg at bay, it was what allowed Gigan to chase him off. The Nebulans were safe...

... For now.

For it was barely over a year later, after yet another failed Earth mission with an ally named Megalon, that Gigan returned to his Masters even more damaged than last time. And that’s when Ghidorah, lying in wait for the perfect opportunity, decided to strike.

The Nebulans were defenseless and a weakened Gigan could do nothing but watch as his Masters were destroyed. His home... The sight of it all was horrific, and yet... somehow beautiful, seeing this dragon’s full destructive power unleashed first-hand. After the carnage, Ghidorah turned to him, regarding him with six blood-red eyes. Gigan was ready to go down fighting, but to his surprise, the dragon turned and flew off into the void. Leaving him alone for the very first time.

His mind-control was lost completely. No orders, no reassurance that everything was okay. Nothing but silence. With everything he’s ever known gone, Gigan knew not what to do. Is this what it feels like to finally leave the nest? Was he ready?

........

Of course he was. His Nebulan ‘parents’ taught him all he needed to know in life, and he went forth to make his own path. He forged his own way, making a living as an assassin and a pirate. He met with old friends, recruiting Megalon into his crew, and made new ones, meeting a grumpy ol’ centipede. He also took those same friends and threw them under the bus when the law finally caught up with them.

He was totally going to come back for them, honest....

His career as an assassin came to an end, however, when the worst day of his life happened. It was like any other, coming to meet those who wanted a job done. However, this turned out to be nothing more than a means to trap the cyborg and put him through another Change...

This one, for the worst, as it completely stripped him of his space-duckness, his feathers gone, his sails tainted red. His new ‘Masters’ wishing to enslave him...

Needless to say, it didn’t end well for them, when they learned the mind-control chip was only ever mild and served more as a means of communication than anything. The Nebulans never needed complete control, like Ghidorah’s mind-control chip was designed for. They had Gigan’s loyalty because they were all he’s ever known. Like hell, he’s letting his freedom go for some no-name low-lives who think they’re hot shit.

Still, the whole experience left its mark. He quit the idea of working as an assassin, and went full-time pirate. Taking out all the anger and frustration on innocent ships, innocent worlds. Stealing their most important resources to sell on the underground space-market. Accumulating riches in the most dishonorable of means.

But every so often, the thought of a dragon would enter his mind. Those gold scales, those massive wings, a complete disregard for life. Everything he could ever want in a mate...

... He would have extra fun with his victims whenever he got that bothered.

Until one day, he decided he was finally going to act on those desires, make those fantasies a reality. He had the tracking information on Ghidorah, he just needed to catch up to him. Not too hard when the dragon would spend so much time destroying any life-bearing worlds he came across.

When he finally did meet his Master’s killer once more, he... didn’t really know what to do from here. His new Final Wars form made him a freak; even if he were to do a proper courtship, he was certain it wouldn’t be successful. Maybe play off his new look like it was an intentional change, something he labeled a “work-in-progress”? 

Would Ghidorah even recognize him?

Turns out, yes, yes he did. Despite Gigan’s attempts at friendly re-introduction, Ghidorah seemed just as hostile towards him as before, making it clear that he was still holding a grudge against the cyborg. But the dragon never really escalated that hatred into an actual fight.

This was something he can work with. 

And he was nothing if not persistent. Unlike all those other females the Nebulans would try to pair him with, this one was special. He wanted him, forever and not just for the night. For that, he knew he had to earn Ghidorah’s forgiveness. Maybe then, the dragon will be willing to give him a chance.

Worst case scenario, he still remembered how to activate that mind-control chip... 

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN VOCAL NO SIWOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 24 DEBUT AGE: 19 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 16 COMPANY: MSG ETC: this member was known for the influx of attention they gained after REGroup.

IDOL IMAGE

siwoo originally debuted with a younger brother type image - goofy but sweet, wholesome but a charming nuisance to the older members of the group. he was comfortable with the role and played it well, but it was too conventional and he tended to be overlooked as a member. after his popularity grew from regroup, however, siwoo has shifted into an older brother type of concept - dependable, admirable, ruffling hair and teasing everyone. he was teased both by fellow contestants on the survival show and by his group members about his “angelic” image, developed after he garnered praise for his patience and willingness to help.

of course, he’s hardly angelic behind the scenes. siwoo is proud and refuses to acknowledge his own mistakes. he doesn’t always recognize limits like when a joke has come too far or when he’s pushing someone too hard, which not only creates tension but also damages his now-carefully-curated image. he’s easily affected by the trend - if things are going well, he rides that high, but he’s easily defeated once the tide turns. it’s true that he’s generous and helpful and a true team player - he believes that a group can only be successful if every member trusts and relies on one another. however, he’s very attached to the idea of indigo as a unit. this developed primarily during their slump, when siwoo began to fear disbandment, but his clinginess worsened once the group began rebuilding and reaching new heights. the boys, himself included, now take on more individual schedules, and he’s afraid of one of them achieving enough success in a field that they’ll leave the rest behind, dooming the others to flopping like before. part of him knows that teamwork also means supporting one another in all your endeavours, not just in those related to actual group work, and siwoo does support his members - he just doesn’t want them to succeed individual at the cost of indigo.

IDOL HISTORY

the no family filled their home with music.

the notes of chopin twinkled out of the radio while their father cooked, carly simon’s voice underscored family game night, uhm junghwa blasted out of the car as soon as the key turned in the ignition. every birthday dinner ended with a trip to the local noraebang. family gatherings were incomplete without someone sitting down at the piano while others shouted out requests and sang along at the top of their lungs. it was rare for there to be a quiet moment at home.

it shouldn’t have been surprising, then, when their middle son came home from school one day and declared that he was going to put his heart and soul into pursuing a career in music. you’d think that he was being set up for this future, that it was inevitable, all things considered, for him to want to make a life out of this.

the no family loved music. it was a hobby, an escape. it was also an unstable, dangerous, exploitative career path. the industry was corrupt, cruel, extremely difficult to break into, extremely difficult to stay in. it wasn’t the right place for someone soft, sweet, and warmhearted like their son. careers should be pursued in fields that will never be deemed luxurious or unnecessary - like the family plumbing business. the world will always need plumbers. will they need musicians?

siwoo thought they did. plumbing was a respectable profession - he was never ashamed of what his family did for a living - but fixing rusty pipes and renovating washrooms never seemed as exciting to him as the rush of standing onstage, delivering music that gave people strength and allowed him to express himself beyond what words alone could explain.

his older sister, who went the practical route by studying accounting in order to become the family business’s bookkeeper, had been giving him piano lessons since he was a kid. for siwoo it had always been his three hours a week of respite. he confided in her about his wish to pursue music, confessing that it was the only thing he could imagine himself doing, even if their family didn’t understand it. she told him that she understood, and that she had a friend who was a trainee at an entertainment group - maybe they could get together and he could find out more about what the industry is really like. they met at a coffee shop on the trainee’s day off, siwoo filling a three hour conversation with probing questions about trainee life. the industry was hard, the trainee acknowledged, and the vast majority of trainees never reached debut. but if you loved music that much, wouldn’t you regret not even trying?

siwoo signed up for auditions at every company he could find, scheduling them months in advance to give him time to prepare. he could play piano, and he had a naturally clear singing voice that earned him compliments from untrained listeners, but he worried about whether that would be enough for entertainment companies that looked for visuals, charisma, and charm on top of talent. he signed up for dance lessons at his local community centre, nothing fancy or impressive but enough to give him a sense of rhythm and make him more comfortable with moving his body. he spent time every night practicing his singing and his piano, his concerned parents listening as the music bled through the walls. finally he auditioned, and auditioned, and auditioned. he failed many, but passed a couple, and ultimately chose to begin training at msg entertainment.

training was, predictably, hard. he had to work hard into the night, keep a diet, and continue going to school. he was far from home, and his parents were still unhappy with his decision - they sent him a meager allowance, and he called them regularly, but their tone was always cold, always distant, and probably would be until he relented and came home. but siwoo, proud as ever, refused. as exhausting as it was, training was the first thing he’d ever really been good at. he thrived under pressure, loved proving others wrong, relished every opportunity he had to improve his singing. he worked best when he had a goal in his sights, and he had lots as a trainee: the biggest one being debuting, of course, but smaller ones to help him get there too, like getting the top score on the next trainee evaluation or successfully singing a piece in a higher key. he was motivated and he pushed himself until he was placed in the lineup to debut and finally, in spite of it all, proved himself.

or so he had thought. indigo hit the ground running, earning praise and attention from all sides with their debut release. it was too early for his parents to be fully convinced of their son’s success, but his sister told him that they had put up his posters in the office and had bought their debut ep and were trying to convince every customer, neighbour, family member, and friend to do the same. siwoo thought that if indigo had a few more successful releases, his parents would finally admit to him that he made a good decision in pursuing this path, and their relationship could finally mend. but their first comeback got significantly less hype, and the third even less. indigo was shaping up to be more or less a failure for msg, not quite becoming entirely irrelevant but certainly not living up to their initial burst of popularity. siwoo’s pride disintegrated. what his parents had feared had come true: their son couldn’t make it in music.

he was young at debut and didn’t have an image that stood out much - he was a younger brother character, cute and sweet, straddling the line between irritating and endearing. msg didn’t have much for him to do when indigo slumped, so he went on the few shows he was invited to and otherwise didn’t do much of anything. he struggled when there were no discernible goals ahead of him - they had missed the window to win rookie of the year awards, they were not nearly popular enough to hope to get their music show win on any of their few comebacks. siwoo isolated himself, spending as little time in the dorm or the company building as possible, doing little more than the bare minimum when indigo prepared for an event or a performance here and there. the motivation that made him such a great worker as a trainee evaporated in the face of indigo’s decline

regroup changed everything. the way the company told the members that they were going on a show for failed idols made it sound like a last resort, but siwoo saw it as a new chance. it was essentially like training again - competing with a large group for limited spots, undergoing evaluations and exhausting schedules, and, most importantly, meeting goals. he regained the motivation he had lost, and viewers took note of how hardworking he was. he got to sing ballads than indigo’s dance tracks let him and got some attention for the extent of his talent that had previously gone under the public’s radar. he had a positive, easygoing attitude, and made friends easily with the other contestants. his popularity skyrocketed after an episode where he was grouped with a team of dancers on a vocals challenge and stayed up late every night leading up to their performance to help each member with their singing, leading that team to winning the challenge. he became known for having a heart of gold, being sweet, outgoing, patient, and helpful. he climbed the ranks of the show from borderline irrelevant to twelfth place, missing the final lineup by fewer spots than anyone had originally anticipated.

indigo blew up afterwards, and siwoo blew up with it. msg decided to all but scrap the group’s original dance-heavy sound and focused instead on showing off the boys’ vocal talents, and as main vocal, siwoo had some of the most attention-grabbing adlibs and lines in their songs. but even more than for his voice, he had become popular for his personality, and msg capitalized on this by throwing him into variety. siwoo was friendly, bright, and not easily embarrassed - he dove right into whatever humiliating situation the show called for without hesitation. he got good press after an indigo appearance on i can see your voice and got invited back to be on the panel several times since, and he was praised for his charming anecdotes on his frequent appearances in happy together episodes. he’s succeeded, as both a musician and a public figure, and most importantly, he’s proved himself to his family. they still aren’t happy about what he’s doing, but they can hardly argue with him now. everything is going more or less perfectly, but siwoo is starting to worry: if indigo continues on this upward trend and achieves even more heights, siwoo is, frankly, going to run out of goals. he’s thrilled with their success, and there are still some milestones both the group and he himself have not yet reached, but he’s afraid of running dry and plummeting into a debilitating slump again.

[elvendara]

Day 26/April Challenge

Second Yooran AU is my University AU. This one is long and kinda all over the place, and I’m probably going to change the end.

He meant well, he always did, and honestly, if it hadn't been for Saeyoung, Saeran would probably be dead by now. He'd made good on his promise. He got them away from their mother. Whatever his job was, it allowed him to create new identities for them both. Saeran was adamant that he wanted to keep his real first name, but Saeyoung changed his to Luciel. Most of the time though, he just went by Seven. It suited him.

Luciel and Saeran Choi they had become. He'd also added a few years to his own age so that there would be no questions about how he was Saeran's legal guardian, at least, on paper, because one look at them and it was obvious that they were twins. Thankfully, Seven was a master at working through phone and internet. He'd enrolled Saeran into public school and tried to give him as normal a life as he could.

Saeran fought him at first. He wanted to stay close to his brother, he was too afraid of the world outside, fearing that it would only lead to more pain. Slowly, however, he found that he was getting healthier, and that other people would not necessarily hurt him. There were some instances where he had been bullied because of his shyness and his introverted tendencies. Soon enough though, he learned that he had a real talent for sports. He enjoyed the physical strain, the competition, the ball in his hand. Baseball became his main focus and because he was skilled and worked hard to get better, the coaches loved him, and so did his team mates. In fact, he was so good, he earned a scholarship to a university. Seven encouraged him to continue his education and play ball. Those who once bullied him began to praise him. Initially, he had enjoyed the new treatment. Eventually, he understood that it was not him they now liked, but his new popularity.

When he began university, Seven had talked him into living with his team on campus so that he could make some real friends. It was still difficult for Saeran in that department. He preferred to spend most of his time by himself or with his brother. He stayed in the dorm to make Seven happy, but, he simply went through the motions. He wasn’t unhappy, he just did not care for the lifestyle most of his team mates preferred. He would drink, but not to excess, he'd tried pot, it was something he enjoyed doing alone, he was hit on a lot by university girls, which, brought him to the one aspect that was a sticking point for him. He was gay. Had always been gay, had never had any doubts gay. His team mates would try to get him laid, but he always fended them off. Most of the time, the girls were so drunk, they didn't remember if he'd been receptive or not.

He'd never tried to have a relationship, never even really had a crush on anyone. He was happy with his baseball, his art, and his brother. It did not bother him in the least that he had no one else close to him. It made things easier for him as well. It was not a secret that most of his team mates disdained anyone whose sexual orientation did not fit their idea of masculinity. They threw the word 'gay' around like a whip, hitting anyone and everyone with it.

His only sexual experience had been with one of his team mates in high school who he had invited home just to shut his brother up. They had spent time in his room, playing video games and at some point, he had placed his hand on Saeran's crotch as if it was no big deal. He'd asked Saeran if he wanted a blow job and Saeran was too stunned to answer. The boy took that as assent and began to do just that. He'd enjoyed it, but it felt awkward. He tried it himself on the other boy. The next day, the boy ignored him and never really spoke to him again. Saeran was embarrassed and ashamed, he hadn't even told Seven, even though he told him everything. Since then, he had maintained his unspoken rule of no touching. Or at least, minimal touching.

Currently, he stood in a large hallway at a local MegaCon that his teammates had pressured him into going to. It wasn't that they enjoyed video games, or anime, it was in order to make fun of all the cosplayers and nerds. He'd already witnessed a lot of bullying and name calling. He was embarrassed to be in their group, but he didn't know what to do. He had nothing against anyone who attended the Con. In fact, he played with Seven sometimes. It was a great stress relief for him. He wasn't into it as much as his brother, he could easily see Seven dressing up and attending something like this, if he ever actually left the house.

He stepped away from the group and idly walked around, distancing himself from the pack. There was a loud commotion that drew his attention from one of the many rooms. The doors were open wide and the sign in front read "LOLOL Tournament 3 p.m - finish" Saeran grinned. He was very familiar with LOLOL. It was one of Seven's favorite roleplaying games to play. He was rather proud of his #1 ranking on the Shooting Star server. Whenever anyone came close to unseating him from his throne, he would go on the warpath and sometimes take Saeran along with him. He was very serious about his title.

He walked inside. There was a large crowd around two different sections of the room. There were several computer stations with dividers between them. Most were now empty. Only two appeared to still occupy a player. The crowd was too thick for him to see them, but there were large TV's on the wall that showed the player's avatars in game. Saeran grinned, thinking about how he was going to tease his brother about this. He would have loved to compete. But, his work made it impossible for him to stand out in any way to the general public.

One of the avatars was a large barbarian with plate mail and a gigantic maul. The other was a tall, thin, elf with chainmail. His weapon was a halberd that was twice its size. Saeran blinked. It was unusual for the cleric class to dominate one on one. Usually, they were a supporting class. He was impressed that this player had made it to the top two as a cleric. He must have amazing strategic skills.

The screen changed, showing the competitors themselves. On the left screen there was a mousy brown-haired boy that couldn't be more than 18 if that. His face glistened with sweat, his brown eyes shiny with determination. His teeth were clenched, his eyes darting rapidly across his screen.

Saeran's eyes shifted to the screen on the right and his breath hitched, his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. He'd never seen anything more beautiful. The boy was slender, his large headphones almost disappearing into his blonde fluffy hair. He could see the darker roots near his scalp. His complexion was pale, accentuating his large amethyst eyes and pink lips. He was biting his bottom lip, his nostrils flaring as his eyes also scanned rapidly across his monitor. His tongue peeked out and licked his lips. He used the sleeve of his faded blue hoodie to wipe sweat that began to drip into his eyes. He blinked furiously, his long lashes fluttering.

Saeran quickly scanned through the crowd, standing on his tip toes until he thought he saw the flash of yellow hair in the center. He wanted to push his way through, wanted to see this sunshine in all its splendor, but he knew the tightly packed mob would never let him through. Instead, he made his way to the podium where the trophies were lined up and where, presumably, the winners would be displayed. He wrung his hands nervously as he stared at the screens on the wall, waiting for any glimpse of the boy. He tried to tell himself that this was ridiculous. Love at first sight was not a real thing. And, honestly, this was probably lust anyway. Just because he'd never felt it before, didn't mean anything.

He looked away and thought about leaving all together. He wasn't equipped to deal with these feelings. His heart was racing, and his palms were sweaty. He swallowed with great difficulty and his breath lodged in his throat once more as the image of the blonde boy appeared, his lavender eyes wide, a small grin on his face as he saw victory in his grasp. Sure enough, there was a giant eruption of cheering from the crowd around him, a chant rising in volume, “Yoosung! Yoosung! Yoosung!” Saeran’s chest constricted, was that his name? Or the name of his avatar? Yoosung…why did it sound familiar? Like he’d heard it before? He shook his head, trying to dislodge these new feelings. They clung to him, settling into his skin, into his heart, into his head, growing roots deep into his psyche. Both screens now showed only the blonde, his smile from ear to ear, his hair in disarray, arm up in victory.

Saeran closed his eyes and turned quickly, no, he couldn’t deal with this, it was too much. Unfortunately, the mob descended on his area and he was pushed back towards the podium, up to the red rope around it. He tried to tune out the uproar, to try and steady his breathing. He hadn’t brought his medication, thinking he would not need it. He hadn’t for a long time now. He regretted that decision. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to turn. He saw a flash of blonde and he focused on the boy with the widest grin in the world, he focused on his eyes, trying to figure out exactly what shade of purple they were. He noted a touch of pink around the edges. The boy made eye contact and suddenly his smile was gone. Saeran narrowed his eyes questioningly. The boy’s mouth thinned into a hard line and he jerked his eyes away, Saeran could have sworn they had begun to fill with tears.

Why would he begin to cry because of Saeran? Now he was just confused. He watched him step up to the top spot, the brown-haired boy to his right, and a curly-haired brunette to his left. He avoided eye contact, but Saeran could still see he was distressed. His jubilance of a moment ago completely gone. He tried to smile at those in front of him, but it was strained and off. Saeran blinked rapidly, wondering what he could have done to elicit that kind of reaction. His own eyes began to tear up. He’d only wanted to talk to the boy. To figure out what he’d felt in that moment. To understand if it was something they could share. He shook his head, already knowing the answer.

He watched him anyway, enjoying this brief instance before he walked away forever. They presented him with a giant trophy and his grin was once more back, his joy effervescent. He glowed with happiness and triumph. He was surrounded by friends who cheered for him, who looked genuinely thrilled for him. Saeran smiled sadly, his hands shaking by his side. He could never have that. He would never be that happy. He wanted to bask in his glow. He wanted to reach out and run the back of his fingers along his cheek. He wondered what those pink lips would taste like. He let himself fall into the fantasy. Let himself believe he could have something so bright, something so beautiful.

He didn’t know how long the pomp and circumstance lasted, at one point they had set a crown on the boy’s head and the crowd had cheered. It began to disperse suddenly, flooding away from Saeran before he even knew it. Only the blonde’s friends remained, but his eyes remained focused on only Saeran. He found that he couldn’t move, his feet planted to the floor. He saw the blonde straighten his shoulders, a look of resolve crossing his face. He held his trophy in front of him like a shield then stalked towards Saeran.

Saeran took a step back, not sure what he intended to do with the heavy looking weapon in his hands. He stopped just on the other side of the rope and glared at him.

“What do you want now? Come to finish what your friends started?” he gripped the trophy so tight his knuckles were white. His eyes glistened, and his bottom lip trembled, but he faced Saeran with determination, even if his voice cracked. Saeran blinked, a conflicting and enormous amount of emotions playing out within him. Hearing the boy’s voice was thrilling, it was soft, sweet, and melodic, with a touch of edginess to it. But, his words were like a dagger to his heart. His team mates! Of course, that was why he could be hated so easily.

“I…no…I didn’t…I mean…” Saeran took another step back.

“Let him have it Yoosung!”

“Give him hell!”

“You tell him!”

Saeran wanted to run, wanted to fold in on himself, but he couldn’t look away from those eyes. How could he tell this beautiful angry boy that he only wanted to talk to him? To spend time with him. To get to know him. To explore these new, unknown feelings. To see him smile, to hear him laugh, to hold his hand? How? He sputtered, unable to form any coherent sounds.

“Not so brave without your friends, are you?” Yoosung stepped over the rope and loomed towards Saeran, who kept taking small steps backwards.

“No, it’s not…I didn’t…” Saeran tried to say, but what could he really say? That he hadn’t participated in the bullying his team mates had done? That he’d stood by, letting it happen, not helping anyone? That he’d had several chances to tell them they shouldn’t be assholes? He was just as guilty, and he knew it. Whether he had participated or not did not matter. He had let it happen without voicing any complaint. He hung his head, he deserved Yoosung’s anger.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. The hot tears fell from the tip of his nose onto the floor, splashing silently. His hands formed fists and he turned away, leaving the light behind him and ran back into the darkness. He cloaked himself in the shadows that had become his only friends. It was comfortable here, away from any painful feelings. He ran down the hall and out the doors. The night was settling in, the cool breeze hitting his face. He felt the wetness of his tears across his cheeks. He wiped at them angrily and stalked down the stairs towards the long row of taxi’s. He jumped into the first one he saw and gave the man his brother’s address.

Saeran squeezed his hands together in front of him. He let the tears fall, not caring if the taxi driver saw. He tried to steady his heart, to get his breathing under control so that he wouldn’t fall into the grip of his anxiety. He tried the relaxation techniques his therapist had shown him, but the only thing he could visualize now were those amethyst eyes glaring at him. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth painfully. He balled up his fists and started smacking himself in the head as he rocked back and forth.

“Hey! Hey now! Do I need to pull over?” the taxi driver watched his passenger warily.

“No! No, please, just…get me there!” he pleaded.

It must have been good enough for the man, as he settled back into his drive, now glancing at his rearview mirror with more worry than anything.

“Is someone there to help you?” he asked gently.

Saeran nodded, “My brother. My brother.”

The man nodded back with a sigh of relief. Saeran lay his forehead against the cold glass and wept silently.

When they pulled up to the house, Saeran paid the man and gave him a probably too large tip. He didn’t care. The man had been kind and gentle when most people would have treated him roughly.

He punched in the security code of the house and waved to the man. He had waited until the door opened before leaving. Saeran smiled sadly to himself, wondering at the generosity of some people. He walked in, right past the kitchen, the living room, and straight into his room. Seven kept it clean and ready for him always. Saeran would often spend the weekend in the house. He crawled under the clean sheets and buried himself in them. He should take his medication, there was always some in the bathroom, but he just wanted to fade away, to lose himself in oblivion.

He heard the door open slowly and he squeezed his eyes shut, pulling the sheet over his head. He wished he had a thick blanket he could hide under, but he thin sheet would have to do.

“Saeran?” Seven spoke softly, sitting at the edge of his bed. Saeran didn’t answer him, instead, he curled himself into as small a ball as he could. It was a sign Seven easily recognized. He stood and walked out only to return almost immediately. He set something down on Saeran’s night stand. Placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder, he squeezed gently, then patted him lightly before walking out and leaving him alone. He closed the door softly behind him. When he heard the click, Saeran turned over and saw a water glass and his medication. He reached over and shook two pills out, swallowing them easily. He placed the half-filled water glass back on his night stand and resumed his fetal position. Soon, he was deep in a drug filled sleep, amethyst eyes chasing him. Saeran’s mind turned the boy into someone that loved him. He let Yoosung catch him, let him take him, let him have whatever he wanted from him, even if it was pain.

…………………………………………

Saeran’s eyes were heavy. He’d cried so much, they were glued together and puffy. His head ached, and he knew it was going to take all day to feel any better. He didn’t care. He wanted desperately to fall back into his dreams. At least in there, he could be with Yoosung. He sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. He smelled bacon and he sat up. Seven was cooking? That couldn’t be good. He jumped out of bed and took a quick shower in his bathroom. Once he was in some clean clothes, he finally ventured into the kitchen. It was still in one piece, that was good.

“Good morning! Or should I say, good afternoon!” his brother’s voice was too loud and Saeran just sat at the kitchen table and groaned.

Seven set a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs in front of him, plus a cup of coffee. Saeran took both gratefully with a grunt.

“I’ll take that as a thank you.” Seven smirked, sitting down with his own plate and cup. “There wasn’t much in the house, so I went out this morning to get some groceries.

Saeran arched an eyebrow.

“What? I go out!”

Both eyebrows were now up.

“Just eat your eggs!” Saeran tucked in, he felt famished.

After a few minutes of silence, Seven asked, “Want to talk about it?”

Saeran shook his head.

“Ok, well, you know you can always talk to me.”

Saeran nodded absently. “Can I stay here a while?” he asked.

“Of course you can Saeran, this is your home, it always will be.” Seven assured him. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he prodded gently.

Saeran shrugged. He felt the sting of tears again and he tried to keep them at bay. He set his fork down and lay his head on his hands weeping. Seven was up instantly, his arms around his brother, holding him tight. Saeran brokenly told him what had happened, how he’d felt, and how he would never again see that beautiful boy who looked at him with such disdain. How he felt guilty and helpless. How he felt heart broken and alone. It had always been easy to confide in his brother. He’d always been the only person who truly understood Saeran.

“Oh Saeran, I’m so sorry! But, you can’t give up that easily! You can’t just walk away from your feelings like that.”

Saeran pulled away from his brother and wiped his tears away with his sleeves.

“You’re one to talk. When was the last time you were out with anyone?” he threw back at him.

“That’s different. You know that! My job doesn’t allow me to have much of a personal life.” Seven looked away, taking a seat next to Saeran.

“It isn’t your job Seven, it’s you, it’s me. We…we’re no good at relationships.” He hung his head, Seven didn’t argue.

“Whatever happened with that guy you were talking to online? I thought you really liked him?” Saeran asked.

Seven shrugged, “He lives in Europe, plus, I found out he was married.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“No big deal, I mean, it wasn’t as if I was going to skip off to London to see him or anything!” he grinned.

Saeran scoffed at him. “What about that girl you met during your last mission? She was cute.” Seven had shown him a picture of the woman he had worked with, she was blonde, petite, and dangerous.

“Oh, well, she was a little too much for me.” He laughed. “It was fun, for a few weeks, but, not for a lifetime.” Seven sighed. “You know you deserve to be happy, don’t you?”

“What about you? Don’t we both deserve to be happy? I hate it that you sit in that small room all day and night. That can’t be all that you want out of life.”

“I live through you little brother.” Seven grinned.

“Don’t do that. You know I would do anything for you, and I have. But, Seven…I…”

“Are you truly that unhappy where you are? I was hoping you would make some friends, come out of your shell a little. I know you love playing baseball, but, there’s so much more to life than just sports.”

“I’m not unhappy. I just, don’t fit in. They tolerate me at best. Because they need me. But I see the way they look at me, like…like I’m a weirdo. And, worst of all, I still can’t be myself around them.” He looked away. He hadn’t meant to burden his brother with any of this, but that blonde had him reeling emotionally.

“You can come home then. If that’s what you want. But, I still think you should find this boy. Try again.”

Saeran was already shaking his head before Seven even finished.

“I tell you what. You try again, and so will I. Uh, where do you go to meet girls? Or boys? Or, someone, these days?” he asked.

Saeran laughed genuinely.

“Maybe a cheerleader at one of your games? I understand they are very sexy!” Seven wiggled his eyebrows.

Saeran pushed at him, “Idiot, there aren’t any cheerleaders in baseball! But, I might know someone! She’d be perfect for you.”

“Really?” Seven was taken aback.

“Really.”

“Ok, then, do we have a deal?” Seven held his hand out. Saeran nibbled on his lower lip. He didn’t know if he could take it if Yoosung rejected him again. But, he thought it would be worth it. Even if it was only to help his brother find some happiness for himself. He reached out and took Seven’s hand, shaking it forcefully. They had a deal.

I know some people may find Saeran’s reaction over the top, dramatic, or unrealistic. However, keep in mind, he is 22/23 years old and has never felt this kind of attraction. It’s new, it’s powerful, it’s confusing, and he doesn’t have the skill set to process it.

[elliemarchetti]

Slytherin!Hermione AU part 6

We finally enter into the heart of this story, so this chapter is a little longer than the previous ones. Hope you like it.

Words: 5129

Hermione would never have thought it possible to meet a boy more odious than Draco; this before getting to know Marcus Flint. He was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, as well as the one who had the job, that Wednesday, of hanging on the Common Room bulletin board the announcement that the following day flight classes would begin, which would be held together with the Gryffindors.

“I thought Dumbledore wanted to avoid these, and I quote, useless and excessive rivalry.” Hermione commented, distracted, without knowing that she would unintentionally ignite Marcus’s mind, which made them even arrive late in class to explain to them that they did not have to be deceived by the fact that access to their House’s team was denied to first-year students, that they should have done better than the Gryffindors anyway.

All day long, the boys did not talk about anything else, and even the girls, even if they did not want to point out, were not so unhappy with that pleasant distraction. Lessons began to get heavier and detaching for a while did not seem like a bad idea.

Hermione’s terror began to become almost unmanageable around dinnertime, making it even impossible to sleep at night. Pansy asked her if she had not eaten too much.

The next morning the excitement was palpable in the Common Room, but Flint immediately began to dampen it, indicating who he thought would have a future in the team. Obviously, Hermione was not among those people, but not even Pansy, so she was not so disappointed.

“I think he does not want girls, at least as long as he is the Captain.” Millicent commented, although before denying her possible skill with the broom the boy stood silent for a solid ten seconds.

“Quidditch players don’t like girls!” Pansy exclaimed.

“So we can never go out with a Quidditch player?” Lily had asked, and the subject had moved from sport to boys. After lunch, however, even the girls gave up, and they talked of nothing but Quidditch, at least until three o'clock, when Hermione pointed out that they could not go to the field with the skirt. In a general hysteria, all the girls ran to their rooms to change and wear the horrible men’s trousers.

“I look fat!” Pansy had exclaimed, looking at herself in the mirror, but Hermione had assured her that she was very pretty, and the girl had said nothing more.

The Slytherins arrived at the camp half an hour early, perhaps because they not had lessons after lunch. Despite trying not to think about it, as she ran up the stairs to the camp, Hermione continued to hear Marcus’s voice in her head, reminding her that if she flew too high the school brooms would start to vibrate.

“Everyone should be able to bring their own.” Draco had given him a hand, widening his already well-stocked group of idiots.

Madam Rolanda Hooch was a short woman with gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. She seemed to be able to see everything, and read in the soul of her students, and Hermione felt naked in front of her, despite only exceeding a few inches and some boys were already much taller than her, first of all Blaise. Once the Gryffindor arrived, she started shouting, ordering to take a seat next to a broom. Hermione did it, almost hidden by the statuesque figure of Blaise and with Pansy always by her side.

“Stretch your right hand over your broom.” the woman said, checking that everyone followed her orders. Hermione did not have to repeat it twice. “And say, up!”

“On!” they all cried in chorus.

Blaise and Pansy managed the first attempt, along with Malfoy, Potter and Finnigan. Hermione felt unkempt, and would gladly have escaped, if only there were not fourteen inept like her.

“Try again!” ordered the woman, but Hermione’s broom just did not want to climb.

“It’s normal, the Muggleborn do not have it in their blood.” said Draco, looking at Hermione.

“Apparently, not even all Pureblood are doing well.” Pansy commented, nodding at Longbottom’s broom, lying motionless on the green grass. Hermione was relieved. At least her raised, even if only for a few inches. She succeeded in her third attempt, and thought that perhaps the broomsticks were like horses. She had been riding for some time, and she had discovered that such great and majestic beasts felt the fear of those around them too.

At that point, Madam Hooch showed everyone how to mount the broomstick without sliding to the bottom, and Hermione found it surprisingly easy, unlike Pansy, whose perplexed expression almost made her laugh.

“But can I know how you do it?” asked Lily, turned to Hermione and Blaise.

“Years of experience.” the boy answered, but he was talking only for himself.

“I cannot believe you’re so good without ever getting on a broom.” Millicent commented, snatching a nervous smile from Hermione. The teacher did not even correct her grip, which she had to do with Malfoy.

“Apparently you’re not as good as you thought.” Blaise teased him.

“We will see who will enter the team first, Zabini.” he answered.

“Blaise, is not that you could help me with my grip?” Sally-Anne asked in a low voice, trying not to be caught by the teacher. The woman scared her. Blaise, with a sly smile, took a few steps forward, to show the girl how to do it.

“And now, when I play the whistle, give yourself a boost by pressing your feet firmly on the ground.” Madame Hooch said, interrupting the little theater. The smile disappeared from the fleshy lips of the boy, who returned to his seat.

“Hold the brooms tightly,” she added, going to tighten Sally-Anne’s hands more firmly “and raise about a yard;” she continued, throwing a meaningful glance at Draco and his friends, who seemed to be having too much fun, “then come back down, leaning slightly forward.” she concluded, and immediately started counting. At the two Hermione knew with certainty that she was not ready. One, however, never came. A Gryffindor had to be pushed too early and was floating three feet above the ground.

“But that …” Blaise began, but Hermione finished the sentence in his place: “… is Neville. “

The boy was pale as a rag, while the broom rose up to a height of six yards. Hermione should have predicted that something might have gone wrong, that the wand would serve her, yet she loved it so much and was so terrified by the prospect of breaking it that she had left it in her room. Blaise, on the other hand, had not been so thoughtful, and the handle came out of the wide pocket of his cloak. Hermione knew that no spell was as powerful as the one cast with your own wand, but it was worth trying. She did not have time to explain to his friend what he should do, especially because Neville was slipping from his broomstick.

“Arresto Momentum!” the girl shouted, her wand pointing to Neville. She had never tried that spell, it was a spell they taught in second year and she did not believed that he would serve her so soon, but she had read about it. She was risking everything, her own scholastic career and Neville’s life, probably, just for something she had read about. She prayed that all those phrases about the fact that many things cannot be learned from books were false. Hermione noted with horror that the time did not stop at all, at least not at first, and Neville was falling inevitably toward the ground. Then the fall of the boy, now four yards above the ground, began to slow down, almost to allow him to lay down on the fresh grass without any noise. Neville looked at her in awe, eyes shining with tears, and Hermione remained motionless, feeling the eyes of all on them on her, while still clutching Blaise’s wand spasmodically. The teacher also looked at her in amazement, but said nothing, giving Neville permission to return to the Common Room. He would never have managed to get back on a broom.

As soon as Madam Hooch was out of earshot, Malfoy teased Neville. Hermione tried to ignore his chatter with Goyle, who had positioned himself close to him for that hour, as she tried to ignore Parvati Patil who pathetically tried to take the boy’s defenses.

“Watch!” exclaimed Malfoy, gliding on the ground. He picked up without problems a roundish contraption, which had to be made of glass, with a whitish mist inside. “That stupid thing that grandma sent to Longbottom.”

Some Slytherin laughed but Hermione did not understand why it was so funny.

“Give it to me, Malfoy.” Harry said quietly, approaching the boy of the rival House. Despite his voice, his eyes screamed challenge. All the boys who had managed to lift themselves off the ground, and who were now floating about three yards high, fell silent, ready to enjoy the scene.

“I bet a galleon that Potter will be the first to fall.” Goyle said, looking at his friends who had managed to fly. Only Crabbe was still on the ground, unable to remain at altitude without risking injury. Hermione was sure she would not waste her time stopping his fall. He could have done well if he hit the ground, perhaps with his head. In short, such a situation could only improve.

“I do not know, Goyle, I think Harry shows a certain familiarity with brooms.” Pansy answered. There was no trace of malice in her voice, she was simply noticing what everyone had already noticed.

“Maybe because his father was a Chaser.” Sally-Anne answered. Hermione smiled at her, proud that she had shared something her mother must have told her about her years at Hogwarts and her friendship with Potter’s mother.

“Bulstrode’s mother was the Captain of the team, but that does not mean she has Quidditch in her blood!” Goyle replied, causing a general laugh from his friends. Millicent, just like Crabbe, was struggling to figure out how to stay in the air and at the same time remain balanced on a woodstick so small. So Marcus was wrong, Millicent was not a good candidate for the selections of the following year. Maybe he was wrong about Malfoy too. As much as Hermione wanted it, she doubted it. His way of being on the broom reminded her of the older boys who were riding with her, who all strutted carried their wonderful trotting horses, as if they had come straight out of another era. She had just stopped for that reason. Hermione liked the eighties, maybe because she was just a child, but she liked them and she preferred to read about other times instead of pretending to live in them.

"I think I'll put it in a place where Longbottom will have to go to have it back," Draco replied, turning the ball over in his hands. "What do you say, for example ..." he said, turning to his friends "...about the top of a tree?"

Goyle and Nott laughed, while Hermione could only look at him wronged.

"Or do you think you want it, Granger?" he asked maliciously before throwing it to her. Hermione caught it on the fly without unbalancing her broom. The grin died on Malfoy's lips. Hermione turned to Harry and tossed him the glass ball. Looking at it well, Hermione remembered she once read about something like that, an out-of-fashion contraption that was once used by wizards. The dark-haired boy thanked her, and shortly thereafter they all descended to the floor at the teacher's call.

"You were good, very good." she complimented, glancing at those who had stood in the air for longer. Harry smiled, satisfied, putting Neville's remembrall in one of the pockets of his cloak. He was the only Gryffindor in the group.

"As you know, the flying lessons are followed only by first-year students, who in my opinion will prove to be able to access the Quidditch team's selections in their House can try next year, otherwise you will not see a broom in this field if not during your free time, and certainly not one of mine.”

All the kids nodded and the woman dismissed them.

"We were very good!" exclaimed Pansy, all perky. "The only girls to have received Madam Hooch's compliments!"

"Sure, but none of you have been called by Severus Snape himself to get a seat on the team." Malfoy answered, visibly bored. It was time for dinner, and usually he would find a way to demean everyone who was around him and emphasize himself, so that intervention could not be random.

"Sorry can you repeat?" Blaise asked in astonishment.

"It's Potter," Flint interjected.

"As always." Pansy answered, glancing sideways at Draco.

"This time it's different." the boy started. "McGonagall has given him permission to join the team even if he is in his first year."

"Who cares?" asked Crabbe. "As far as I know, last year you tore them." he commented, facing Flint.

"And I would like this to happen again this year!" he exclaimed. "I cannot stand Wood's smile when they win."

"They have not won since Charlie Weasley left." a second-year boy intervened. He had brown hair and big, almost iridescent eyes. "I do not think a first-year kid can change things."

"I hope so, or I'll be the worst Slytherin Captain in history."

"Never as much as Lucinda Talkalot ..." the newcomer answered, and Hermione stopped listening. Not even Draco paid attention to the quibble about Quidditch, and Hermione decided she would keep an eye on him.

It did not take her long to implement her plan. At the end of the dinner, Malfoy crept up to Gryffindor's table, hoping to catch Potter by surprise. Only Crabbe and Goyle had followed him, so Nott must have gone away with Flint and their new friend. Who knows, maybe the group would finally be divided.

"You’ll pay me this, Potter." she heard as she pretended to talk to Neville, who still seemed quite shaken by the experience of that afternoon. He no longer stopped thanking her.

"You are very brave with your feet on the ground and your little friends on the side. It was easier to tease your partner than to take it with me, is not it? “Harry asked coldly. Hermione felt her ears warm slightly. Harry was talking about her.

"With you I'm ready to fight anytime." Malfoy answered, but did not really respond to Potter's question. "If you want even tonight."

Hermione held her breath. They did not have permission to leave the dormitories overnight. They were likely to be discovered, and that idiot Malfoy would lose points to Slytherin, which Gryffindor was slowly managing to reach. If they had found it to get his hands on Harry Potter... Hermione was visibly relieved when the blond boy said it would be a duel between wizards. They could not be that bad, right? There have been rules that claimed that you could not use too powerful spells, maybe...

"What do you mean you're my second?" Harry asked Ron, perhaps a little too loudly, when Malfoy and his gang left.

"Well, the second is who takes your place if you die." the redheaded boy explained, and Hermione was certain she should do something to stop those mad guys. Why did the boys always have to be so violent?

She did not sleep all night, waiting to hear when Malfoy would move along with one of his friends to go to the meeting. She felt him moving around eleven and a half. Unfortunately, their rooms were bordering. Hermione gave them time to get out of the Common Room, and then pushed her room door, which creaked loudly.

"Where do you think you're going?" whispered a not-so-sleepy voice behind her. It was Pansy.

"Nowhere." Hermione lied. She was a terrible liar, especially with the people she loved.

"Yet I seem to have heard another door open too, must you meet someone?" she investigated, getting out of bed, and revealing, in the dim light that came from the adjoining room, that she hadn’t put on her pajama.

"Do not make fun of me, you have to meet someone from the next room." the girl insisted. Hermione was only retching at the idea. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were sleeping next to them.

"I could never go out with one of them."

"We'll see that, so if you do not have to meet with one of them, why are you following them?" Pansy asked, and Hermione was forced to tell her everything.

“I can’t believe it!” Pansy exclaimed in the Common Room and Hermione shut her up putting an hand on her friend’s mouth. Pansy tried to bite her but Hermione was too fast.

"I come with you." Pansy said, and Hermione, before she could protest, realized that this was not a question but an information and Pansy was, above all, a resource.

They were following a pendant. Hermione could not believe she was following the signs of a damned pendant. She had accepted everything, until that moment: magic, strange things, scales that moved and even meaningless prejudices, so a pendant should not have traumatized her so much, but he could not really believe that a pendant was showing them the way as a compass indicates the north.

"To know that you always have such brilliant ideas I would have woken you before." Hermione commented, as they took the umpteenth turn. It also seemed impossible to believe that Pansy Parkinson, her dearest friend, had invented a spell. And one powerful enough, to be honest. Yet she should not have been so amazed; after all, the first day she had just spoken of spells, along with what would soon be her friend. But damn, she was only in her the first year.

"If they catch us, they take away all the points I gained yesterday with my answers on Transfiguration." Hermione muttered.

"We will lose more than those points, once discovered why we were out of the dormitory." Pansy corrected her, and both jumped at the sound of something moving behind them, making noise. Hermione turned abruptly, lighting an empty corridor with her own wand, her back against her friend's. Nobody showed up.

"Homenum Revelio!" she exclaimed, as a precaution.

"Speaking of complex spells ..." Pansy muttered to her friend, with a proud smile.

A dark corner was suddenly illuminated, and the presence of a person wrapped in a dressing gown of dubious taste and with tremendous color-faded slippers showed her presence to them.

"Millicent?" Hermione asked, stunned.

"Is there anything you two cannot do?" asked the girl who had just been discovered to follow them, halfway between annoyed and amused. Hermione and Pansy almost laughed, but they were both thinking the same thing: they would have to get rid of Millicent, and quickly, if they wanted to get there before Draco could do something that would get everyone in trouble.

"So you're telling me that you followed us because the Bloody Baron told you that two girls had escaped from the dorm?" Pansy asked, and Millicent nodded.

"You are aware that this ghost will kill you one day, will you? You first skip Transfiguration, making Slytherin lose point, because of him, now this ... You do not have to trust the ghosts. “Pansy reproved d Millicent.

"But this time he did not lie." Millicent objected.

"But it made you end up in something dangerous!" Pansy exclaimed in reply.

"I swear that if we get caught because of you I will not have any trouble ending up in Azkaban for using an Unforgivable Curse on you." Hermione hissed as she checked if the street was clear past the end of the corridor. They had not had time to get rid of Millicent, but her presence was far too clumsy and certainly too cumbersome to allow them to do a good job.

They were lucky, and met neither Finch nor his damn cat, at least until the pendant led them straight to his office. The door was slightly open, and the light inside illuminated a narrow corridor.

"So you're telling me that you've broken the rules just to tell me that someone else is breaking the rules?" Finch inquired, and the girls pressed against the stonewall, listening to the conversation. The pendant said that Draco was in there.

"I'm not just breaking the rules, stupid Squib, I came here to tell you that I was threatened by Harry Potter himself, do not you want to take him with his hands in the bag?" asked what was undeniably Draco's voice. There was a pause, and Hermione knew that Mr. Filch had to be very tempted by that offer. Since he had seen Harry and his friend try to enter the third-floor hallway, he did not like them very much.

"And be it, where did you say they are?"

Someone went too far to listen, or maybe something bumped into the floor, however, it did not matter. Meowing, Mrs. Norris ran out of the office. Hermione almost froze, and then began to back away slowly, crushing a foot of Pansy, who refrained from cursing with pain.

"They’re in the Trophy Room." Malfoy answered, and Hermione could hear his arrogant voice above the cat's hysterical meows.

They turned their backs to the cat and started running along the corridor full of armors. Obviously, no girl could sow a cat, so they slipped into the first door they found, which led them to a corridor, and finally to another, but none of them had ever been in that wing of the castle, so, inevitably, they could say they were lost.

"Pansy, this seems like the right time to use that spell to get back to the Common Room." Hermione said. Despite the darkness, she immediately realized that the friend was looking too intensely at the floor.

"What happens?" asked Millicent, worried. Pansy, as the only explanation, lifted the pendant, which indicated exactly the way from which they had come.

"I invented a spell that allows a pendant to indicate the person you want, but it cannot indicate two people at the same time." the girl explained, when she realized that the two friends were looking at her without understanding.

"But you cannot ..." Hermione began, but Pansy finished the sentence for her: "Cancel the spell? No."

"So we just have to continue and hope that Filch will not find us?" Hermione asked, and Pansy nodded sadly.

“Or we could wait. Sooner or later, Malfoy will have to go back to the Common Room." Millicent suggested, and she wasn’t wrong: not even the senseless hatred that Filch felt for Potter could have allowed Draco to wander the castle all night long. Hermione was about to agree when she heard the sound of a torn tapestry and steps approaching in the running.

"Stay together!" she told her friends, who came up to her, all with their wands drawn out, ready to fight back. But who was approaching, with shortness of breath and terrified expression, did not intend to engage in battle.

"What are you doing here?" Potter asked, out of breath.

"I would like to say that I can ask you the same question." Hermione answered.

"So let me understand well, did you think that Malfoy wanted to kill Harry?" Ron asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes to keep herself from hitting him in the face with a good fist. Why that little boy never understood anything?

"We did not think he really wanted to kill him, just hurt him, apparently he's smarter than I expected." Pansy replied, almost ... Hermione could not define the expression on her face. It only appeared for a second, a flash before Harry intervened, but it seemed to Hermione that she was relieved. Why did it have to be? She detested Draco and his behavior was, however brilliant, reprehensible.

"He's just a coward." Harry hissed.

"Other words come to my mind to describe him." Pansy interjected, flatly.

"In mine too, like ..." Weasley started, but Hermione waved him off. She had heard a noise, like a lock being opened, or the knob of an old handle being turned over after a long time.

"Hi Peeves." said Millicent, with a gentle smile. Hermione thought she and Weasley had a good chance of getting themselves killed by the end of the first year. What made her believe that kindness would make the difference with the untamed one?

He was a Poltergeist, chaos was his nature. Hermione had always found the spirits a decidedly annoying entity, of which the castle could have done without, but the Poltergeist was just another category. Hermione hated him, and even Harry did not seem to be happy to see him, especially when he made a sharp sound that would surely attract someone's attention.

"Shut up, Peeves, please." Millicent implored him. "Or you'll have us expelled."

The Poltergeist chuckled, and that smile would fill Hermione's nightmares for at least a week.

"Around the castle at midnight, eh?" he asked, as if it were not obvious, before erupting into yet another disturbing laugh. Judging by the color of Neville’s face, he seemed about to faint. Why that kid always slipped into situations where it obviously should not have been?

"Fools ..." Peeves began, but Pansy interrupted him before he could continue.

"How dare you ..." he growled, advancing before everyone. "Petrificus Totalus!" she almost growled. Against all odds, the spell failed.

"Insipid little girl, you cannot petrify a Poltergeist!" the spirit exclaimed, and did not seem at all pleased with the unfolding of events. "You will be expelled! You will all be expelled!" he exclaimed before screaming that there were students out of the dorms. But how could he have that ringing voice?

"Students out of the dorms in the Charms corridor!" he screamed again. The boys started running towards the end of the corridor, with all their strength in their legs.

"Did you really need to be that specific?" Hermione asked, to no one, when she realized that Filch had appeared behind them. When she turned, she almost crashed into Ron. The two boys, who led the group, had stopped in front of a large door.

"What are you waiting for?" Hermione asked.

"It's locked!" Harry exclaimed. The girl rolled her eyes and shook off Harry’s presence with a shove. Harry tried to stay attached to the handle but Hermione proved she was stronger than expected.

"Alohomora!" the girl exclaimed, and the lock opened. Ron almost threw her to the ground, earning a glare from Hermione and a murderous look from Pansy, to throw himself in first. When even Millicent, who was still panting, had entered, the door closed behind her, and the children pressed their ears against the wood, hoping to hear if Peeves would actually betray them. He did not, even scoffing at Filch. They heard his steps moving away, and everyone sighed with relief.

"We are safe." Millicent whispered, exhausted.

"I cannot wait to go back to bed." he gave it Ron.

"Stop Neville!" Harry exclaimed, and Hermione turned to see what her friend was doing so annoying the famous Harry Potter. It was at that moment that she realized that the one they had entered was not a room at all but the forbidden corridor on the third floor. And at that moment she also understood why it was forbidden: a three-headed dog was staring at them with swirling, mad eyes and foam at his mouth, ready to devour them. But what kind of school it was? The beast filled the space between the ceiling and the floor and three noses contracted and vibrated in their direction. Was it perhaps deciding the three boys he would devour first, with those big yellow fangs?

Hermione realized that the only reason they were still alive was their unexpected appearance, and decided that the only way to continue being so, given that the beast’s amazement was rapidly diminishing, easily made intuitive because of its continuous growl, was fleeing just as quickly. Harry, too, was thinking about it, looking for the doorknob. He pushed out Millicent, who was still looking at the three-headed mastiff, without much compliment, and Hermione was forced to drag Neville with her, pulling him by the wrist. It seemed that the boy's legs had suddenly become jelly. Pansy was the last to leave, and closed the door behind her, slamming it.

"Colloportus!" she shouted, her voice made even more acute by fear, pointing her wand at the lock, and almost had to fly to reach the five kids who had fled away. Millicent, however, grew tired and a stabbing pain in her spleen forced her to stop. The three Gryffindors stopped, though they did not seem happy to do so. Hermione looked at them with a hint of contempt: "You do not owe us anything, so try to get to the seventh floor without getting killed."

"I hope to see you again tomorrow." said Harry, greeting her.

"I hope too." Hermione answered, without looking at him. She had to be able to lift her friend and drag her to Slytherin's dormitory.

"I hope not." Ron answered, moving away. Neville did not say a word, but Hermione was sure she would not talk for a while.

It was half past midnight when they dropped heavily on the Common Room armchairs. It did not seem true to Hermione that so little time had passed.

"Can I know what they are going to do with a monster like that, locked in a school corridor?" asked Millicent, who had not stopped a second to ask questions during the return journey.

"Milly, did you notice what its paws was on, did you?" asked Pansy. The girl shook her head.

"On a trapdoor." Hermione answered absently, her gaze fixed between the flames of the fireplace that were now extinguishing.

"Horror night?" asked a sleepy voice, which made them jump. It was Sally-Anne, looking at them, her eyes dripping from sleep. "Next time, remember to invite me." she said, partly resentful, partly too sleepy to be angry. Blaise had asked her, that evening, to invite Pansy and Hermione to their excursion on the Great Lake the next morning. She decided at that moment, with a hazy mind, that she would not do it.

Hermione barely noticed that her friend had returned to her room, ready to slip under the covers and reach an adequate number of hours of sleep; she was too busy wondering what the beast was supposed to hide. Or protect.

[nicknchris09]

Once In A Lifetime Chapter 46 Time Flies By

Seth's POV

Time went on, the boys got older.  James' speech never returned but he picked up sign language quickly.  I eventually got the hang of it.  Even our friends and family learned as a way to understand James.  Even though he could hear, they still signed.  It was the norm for us.  I also eventually adopted the children.  They still had their father's name but hyphenated my name to it.  Also a big thing that changed, they all called me dad now.  Now KJ was in high school, in his junior year.  Jacob was in his freshman year.  Thinking about having the two boys in high school made Lissa hate it.  Josh was in the fourth grade.  James was four and started a pre-k program for the hearing disabled.  Even though he wasn't, with his only means to communicate was our only opinion.  Everything seemed to get better years after the accident.  Lissa's leg healed, she could walk on it just fine after physical therapy but she had her days were she was in a great deal of pain cause of it.  She still had to not overdue it.  But as the last few years passed, everything seemed better.  Everything seemed perfect.

It was an October night and football season was in full affect.  These kids definitely had their parents genes.  They were very much into sports.  KJ was in varsity football and Jacob in JV.  I kinda felt for James as I knew already, he would be more like me and not like his brothers as they were all athletic.  He was definitely the oddball.  It was a Friday night and we were at the high school football field as it was packed watching KJ play.  We were at as many football or baseball games as we could be when they played.  Cindy and Lucas were there as well.  Rachael was there with Spencer and the girls.  I never imagined myself at football games, but here I was, cheering for my boy.  Lissa definitely was all into it unlike myself but I made sure to support him.  Cindy then said, "So, the way they are playing, definitely seems like they will go to state."

"No kidding.  I am so pumped."  Lissa beamed.  

"Well, the way your kid runs, no wonder why."  Lucas said.

"Oh, he got that from me."  She joked.

I looked at her and smile.  "And you don't think an ounce of that comes from his father's genes?"

"Hell no.  That boy's athletics come from his mama."  She smiled.

I laughed.  "I am pretty sure some of that is Kevin's genes."

Cindy smiled.  "If you only saw him play football in high school.  He was great."

"He was.  KJ does take after his father, I will admit."  Lissa finally said.

Just then, KJ ran with the ball and made a touchdown.  We cheered loudly as we stood up and Lissa almost jumped up and down.  "That's my boy!"  She yelled.

Rachael laughed as we sat back down.  "You really get into this."

Lissa looked back at her.  "Oh, you have no idea.  Seth has seen me watching my team at home on the tv.  I get really into it."

I looked at her as I was annoyed at the thought of it.  "She screams at the tv."

The group laughed.  "What can I say?  I love the sport."  Lissa said with a smile.

"Yeah, your voice is going to be gone tomorrow."  I told her.

"Well, it'll be worth it."  She laughed.

Just then, the other three boys walked up to us.  Jacob said annoyed, "Dad, can I please leave these two here.  They are annoying my friends."  

I smiled as I knew the age he was at.  "Go on, we got these two."

Josh got upset.  "I do not need to be babysat.  I can do my own thing."

"Fine, go, but when I call you, you better come back.  Understand?"  Lissa said, firmly.

"Yes, ma'am."  He quickly answered.  

The boys took us as James stayed with us.  He signed, "Can I go with them?"

Lissa signed back as she talked, "No, baby, stay with mommy and daddy.  Watch your brother play with us."

He looked unhappy but sat down next to me.  He looked up to me and signed, "Dad, I don't like football."

I smiled and signed back as I spoke, "I don't either, but we are here supporting your brother."

He nodded in understanding.  Then Lissa looked over and asked, "What did he say?"

"That he didn't like football."  I told her.

She rolled her eyes.  "He is definitely all you.  Looks like you and has the same personality as you.  Nothing in that kid came from me."

I laughed.  I looked over at James and signed as I talked, "Mommy, hates that you are just like your father."

"I like that I am like you."  He signed to me.

I smiled and put an arm around him.  I pulled him in a side embraced.  I noticed him smiling as I did.  

Just then, KJ made another big play that I missed talking to James.  Lissa, Cindy, and Lucas all got up and cheered.  Rachael, who sat behind me, leaned in and said, "I don't understand you two.  You are completely opposites yet you two are so perfect together."

I leaned back slightly and said over my shoulders, "That is cause opposites attract."

She laughed.  "I can see that."

Then they noticed a flag was on the play which caused them to lose yards.  Lissa then yelled, "Open your eyes, ref!  That is a bs call!"

I quickly took her hand and said, calmly, "Calm down, love.  Do not need to cause a scene over a football game."

She rolled her eyes.  "Seth, you really need to understand something about football fans.  We do not give a shit."

I laughed.  "That I have.  But I will never understand it."

She leaned into me.  "It's okay, baby.  You are not really into sports, that is clear.  But you still are cute, so I deal."

I smiled and leaned in.  I took her lips softly.  "Ugh, get a room."  Cindy chimed in.

We pulled apart and Lissa laughed.  We continued to watch the game.  

The game ended and we met up with KJ.  He was now taller then me and bigger then me.  Definitely took after his father.  Lissa quickly hugged him.  "God, son, you were amazing.  Definitely going to go places."

She pulled away.  "Thanks, mom."  KJ said with a smile.

I put my hand on his shoulder pads and said, "Great job, son.  Definitely proud of you."

He smiled at me.  "Thank, dad."  Then he looked around.  "Where is Jacob and Josh?"

"I have no clue.  You know how your brothers are?"  Lissa told him.

Then Cindy smack Lissa's arm.  "Um, girl, look at your child."

We all looked over to see Jacob flirting with a girl.  He had this girl giggling as he seemed to be a natural at picking up girls.  "Oh, god, I am not ready for this.  I see Jacob is going to be a little player.  I do not need that."

KJ laughed.  "I taught him well then."

She smacked him on his shoulder pads and said, sternly, "I will kick your ass, son."

He only laughed harder.  Then I said, "What are you talking about KJ?  You have only be dating the same girl for the past two years."

"Well, when you find the right one, it's all she wrote."  He said to me.

Lissa quickly said, "But you will go to college.  I know you will get a scholarship with your football, so you will not mess that up for a girl.  Do you understand?"

"Of course, mom."  KJ quickly told her.  "I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I am not dense."

I laughed as did the group.  James pulled on his brother's jersey and signed, "Did you win?"

KJ smiled as he signed back as he spoke, "Yeah, buddy, we did."

Just then, Rachael walked over to KJ.  "Okay, we have to go.  But great job, KJ."

She hugged him and he hugged her back.  "Thanks, Aunt Rachael."

She pulled away and her family and her left.  Lissa then said, "Let's round up your brothers, then head home."

"Alright, mom, I'll met you at the house."  KJ said.

Then James signed, "Can I ride home with KJ?"

I looked at Lissa and she looked at me.  "I'm okay with it, if you and KJ are."  Lissa said.

KJ said, "I am cool with that."

I then looked at James and signed as I said, "Yeah, buddy.  We will see you and your brother at home then."

I gave him a kiss on the top of his head.  Lissa said bye to the boys as grabbed Jacob and found Josh.  We drove home.  Shortly after we got home, KJ and James arrived.  KJ was carrying James on his back when he walked in.  Lissa quickly said as she signed, "James, you need to get ready for bed."

KJ put him down and signed goodnight to his brother.  Then he walked in the living room as he sat down as he put his feet on the coffee table.  "Mom, I am starving."

She quickly eyed him.  "And you have two legs and two arms, go make yourself something to eat."  Then she pushed his feet off the coffee table and said, "And keep your nasty feet off my coffee table."

She walked out which I assumed to get James to bed.  KJ looked over to me and asked, "How do you deal with her?"

I chuckled.  "Easy, I do not piss her off.  One thing I learned about women is they are right and you are wrong, no matter what."

He shook his head.  "She got you whipped, dad."

"Watch yourself, son."  I joked but acted as if I was being stern.

"Or what, old man.  You can't take me.  I am so much younger then you."  KJ joked.  Definitely was like his mother in that department.

"Or I will sick your mother on you."  I told him as I hitched an eyebrow up.

"Okay, okay.  Jeez, pull out the big guns why don't you.  You know I am terrified of that woman."  He cracked.

I laughed.  "Oh, you are not the only one, son."

He laughed as well as he got up and walked into the kitchen.  

Finally I got myself to bed as Lissa was already in there and getting ready for bed.  She was dressing for bed and I walked up behind her.  I put my arms around her and kissed her neck.  She was still so beautiful.  I, on the other hand, gained some weight and my age started to show.  I said to her, "God, how can after four kids, you still look so beautiful?  Especially with two in high school."

"One upside with having kids so young."  She smiled.  She turned to me and moved her arms around my shoulders.  "You don't look half bad yourself, MacFarlane."

I leaned in and took her lips.  I pulled her close to me and I kissed her deeply.  It's been awhile since I have had her.  I wanted her that night.  I picked up and she giggled in my lips.  I moved us over to the bed and quickly laid her down.  I moved over her and kept kissing her.  I moved my hand up her shirt when just then, James opened the door.  We quickly broke away.  Lissa got up and looked at him.  "What's wrong, baby boy?"  She signed as she asked.

He signed back, "I'm scared.  Can I sleep with you and daddy?"

I quickly leaned over and whispered, "Please, for the love of god, get him to go back to his bed.  It's been a long time since we have been together."

She looked at me as she I could tell she felt the same way.  She turned back to James and signed as she said, "Baby, how about I read you a story and tuck you back in.  There is nothing to be scared of."

He looked unpleased but signed, "Okay."

She then signed to him as she said, "Okay, go pick a book for me to read and I will be there in a moment."

"Yes, ma'am."  He signed back.

He walked back out and I almost breathed, "Thank god."

I moved over to her and quickly went to kiss her.  She put her hand on my chest and stopped me.  "Not now, Seth.  Let me get James settled and I will be back."  I groaned, unhappily.  She gave me a small peck on my lips and said, "I will be back before you know it."

I almost groaned out again and said, very unhappy, "Fine, but hurry."

She smiled and got up.  She left the room.  Thirty minutes passed and she was not back in the room.  I got up and went to check on her.  I walked in James' room to find Lissa had fallen asleep with James in the bed.  He was curled up on her chest as she held him closed.  I just smiled at the pair.  I couldn't be too mad that she left me hanging.  I tucked them both in and kissed each one of them on their cheeks.  I walked back to my room and decided I should get some sleep too.  I knew it would be a hard one to get to sleep as I loved sleeping next to my wife.  But our son needed her a little more tonight.  So I dealt with it for the night.  I could go without one night without my woman next to me.  

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Mauricio Pochettino takes huge pride in Tottenham despite defeat in Champions League final

& # 39; It gets painful, but we have to be positive & # 39 ;: Mauricio Pochettino is extremely proud of Tottenham players despite a defeat and predicts a bright future Competition match on Saturday

Mauricio Pochettino thought that his party was unlucky to fall 2-0 in Madrid and they were very proud of these players and the fans By : 41 BST, June 2, 2019 | At the end there were no tears to equal the tears of joy at Ajax. Mauricio Pochettino admits that he likes to cry. But this was not that kind of night.

An extraordinary journey had come to a conclusion.

Or perhaps at the Camp Nou in December, when it took five minutes to reach the group stages. When Raheem Sterling scored in the quarterfinals, were they sure dead?

<img id = "i-c966d06486edb292" src = "https://dailym.ai/2YVUMYW image-a-2_1559432234216.jpg "height =" 460 "width =" 634 "alt ="

<img id = "i-c966d06486edb292" src = "https://dailym.ai/2CYdfvj 2019/06/02/00 / 14249776-0-image-a-2_1559432234216.jpg "height =" 460 "width =" 634 "alt ="

Mauricio Pochettino and a dejected Harry Kane took a moment to think about the defeat

<img id = "i-874841bff1903eae" src = "https: // i .dailymail.co.uk / 1s / 2019/06/02/00 / 14249788-0-image-a-3_1559432256193.jpg "height =" 343 "width =" 634 "alt =" The purpose of Divock Origi was created on 2-0 and sealed the victory for Liverpool in the final "

Divock Origi & # 39; s goal late on 2-0 and sealed the victory for Liverpool in the final "it made the score at 2-0 and sealed Liverpool's victory in the final

Still, when Ajax took a 3-0 lead, 35 minutes in the second stage of the semi-finals, there was one final act in the making.

Yet they all survived. Somehow they came. Eventually logic would prevail. Usually it does that.

Spurs simply could not play the odds recklessly and always survive. Even if, in the end, they would have more ball possession and many shots at their goal than their opponents, it was as if they had run out of all their magical powers in the season and had nothing left to give

& # 39; would have been unbelievable to win and lift the trophy, "said Pochettino, two top buttons of his shirt undone, but he looked almost as smart as he had started the night in a deep dark blue suit.

& # 39; And it would have surprised the people, because the stadium has been building with priority building for the past five years. And we spent zero pounds. We are not smart, but not the fattest. It is an incredible achievement and we deserve credit and the fan base deserves credit because it was historical. "

<img id =" i-c6d144bfa589a76c "src =" https://dailym.ai/2wxAYPG a-4_1559432285364.jpg "height =" 357 "width =" 634 "alt =" Pochettino said that his side was unhappy and deserved a great merit for their season class Pochettino said that his side was unhappy and deserved a great honor for their season "

Pochettino said that his side was unfortunate and deserved a great merit for their season

It was indeed a team that did not spend anything and survived a season without a good home. in winning the biggest trophy of all, and for Pochettino, you wonder if that means the end of a chapter in his life or the beginning of a new era for him at Spurs.

& # 39 "It's not a moment to talk too much now," he said. "You can interpret the thing in different ways." those grins pointed out that I still have to win a management trophy.

& # 39; Some people want to compare me, but this is a different project and a different place. Some people want to give opinions. After five years, it is just our project, our ambition, our great connection with players that becomes clear. The club played for the first time in history in the Champions League final.

& # 39; The season was fantastic. It will be painful because we lose.

Some time this week, Pochettino will undoubtedly sit down with his chairman Daniel Levy and you suspect the two of them will reflect on something extraordinary. Spurs have a bright future despite the bitterly disappointing night, says Pochettino "

a bright future despite the bitterly disappointing night, says Pochettino"

Spurs has a bright future despite the bitterly disappointing night, said Pochettino

The fact that it didn't have a glittery piece of metal at the end makes it meaningless. From that you could imagine that Pochettino will find the strength to continue and make the shiny new stadium that Levy has built for the near future.

Pochettino has built a team that matches Levy & # 39; s stadium. They look good together. One employee describes the last five years of the Pochettino-Levy axis as an incredible adventure.

Another member of the club said: & They have the training field, the stadium and the team: you don't come often

Tottenham is the team that was the beating heart of a team discussion with Alex Ferguson. & # 39; Come on guys, it's just traces, & # 39; Ferguson would tell his players.

& # 39; Only Spurs & # 39; may not be champions of Europe. But they were not far away. And Manchester United is not even close. That is how far they have come.

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David De Gea, Man United’s goalkeeping options the envy of Europe

The guys respond to your tweets about Liverpool’s UCL final loss, their outlook for next season and whether their season beat Man United’s.

A penny for the thoughts of Manchester United goalkeeper David De Gea as he watched Saturday’s Champions League final between Real Madrid and Liverpool.

Had De Gea moved back to his home city of Madrid in 2015 — which, barring a dodgy fax machine, he very well could have — he could now be the proud possessor of three consecutive Champions League medals and part of a side which will be considered as one of the best in history.

Instead, he plays for Manchester United, where he hasn’t come close to winning European football’s biggest prize, but has won the club’s Player of the Year trophy season after season. If De Gea wants to be kept busy at work, he’s better off staying in Manchester than moving to Madrid.

As Loris Karius demonstrated in Kiev, having a top goalkeeper matters when you’re a top team. Karius’ two mistakes sank Liverpool’s chances of claiming a sixth European Cup. You’ll Never Walk Alone? The German proved Liverpool’s anthem wrong at the end of the game on Saturday as not a single player in red consoled him.

When a skinny De Gea arrived at Old Trafford for around £19 million from Atletico Madrid in 2011, he often cut a solitary figure. The players in front of him were concerned that he was being bullied and targeted by opponents, worried that he was being over-rotated by Sir Alex Ferguson and worried that he didn’t speak English.

Those fears started to subside after six months and now there’s not a United fan around who would like to see him sold. So far, the club have been astute enough not to bow to Madrid’s pressure.

Several factors have worked in United’s favour in retaining De Gea. First is that they pay so well that, should Madrid match his wages, he’d be one of their top earners. No Madrid goalkeeper, not even Iker Casillas, has ever held that pay status.

Second, Keylor Navas is very popular in the Madrid dressing room and among fans. Indeed, a survey in Marca days before the aborted De Gea transfer showed overwhelming support for Navas over a man who began his career on the other side of Madrid.

Yet the rumours continue to bubble away. It’s bizarre that one of the world’s best goalkeepers is from Madrid yet doesn’t play in his home city, but there has always been some reason why he stays.

Last year, Sergio Ramos led a delegation to see Madrid’s president Florentino Perez and urged him that Navas should stay Madrid’s No. 1. He did.

United also have no intention of selling a cornerstone of their side. Now on 314 appearances, he should move into the club’s all-time 50 appearance makers in the autumn and Jose Mourinho has a good relationship with the Spaniard, who has close friends in Manchester including Ander Herrera and Juan Mata.

De Gea gets on well with the other United goalkeepers too and if there’s one area where United boast a surfeit of talent, it’s among their stoppers.

Argentina international Sergio Romero — ironically known as ‘Chiquito‘ (Tiny) because he’s big — is probably the best No. 2 in the Premier League. The 31-year-old will miss the World Cup due to a knee injury that requires surgery according to his country, but is not a reason to deny him a place in Russia according to his wife Eliana Guercio.

“There’s nothing broken,” she said on the Los Angeles De La Manana show. “It’s a piece of loose cartilage. The doctors told him he was OK for the World Cup. The recovery is two to three weeks maximum.”

Considered fit to play for United from the start of May, Romero lasted 90 minutes without conceding a goal in United’s final league game of the season against Watford and was also on the bench in the FA Cup final.

He was unhappy to miss out on the FA Cup semifinal against Tottenham having played in the four previous rounds, but Romero knows the score. He knows he plays second fiddle to De Gea and that he has to be happy with starting only a handful of games a season.

Joel “the Cat” Pereira is United’s third-choice goalkeeper. The 21-year-old has already played for the first team and Mourinho has described him as “the best Portuguese goalkeeper of the next generation.” Pereira excelled on loan at Rochdale and Belenenses in Portugal’s top flight, but he played only 192 minutes of competitive football last season. Though he is under contract with United until 2021, he needs to play more.

United have even more goalkeeping talent — and English too. Sam Johnstone came close to promotion to the Premier League on loan at Aston Villa before his side lost 1-0 in the Championship playoff final against Fulham, playing 48 times for the club last season. The 25-year-old is scheduled to return to Old Trafford , but Villa are not his only suitors: new Premier League side Cardiff City are also interested.

Dean Henderson is another goalkeeper contracted to United who was involved in the playoffs. The 21-year-old played 48 games on loan for third-tier Shrewsbury Town and was excellent against Rotherham United, saving a ninth minute penalty and making several key saves in a 2-1 defeat. Nevertheless, he was named in League One’s team of the season, kept 19 clean sheets and made his England under-21 debut in March. Bristol City reportedly have their eye on him, so he may gain promotion after all.

And you can’t get much more local than 22-year-old Kieran O’Hara who is from a big United supporting family in Urmston close to Old Trafford. He spent last season as United’s U23 goalkeeper in the reserve side which was relegated, but he was also selected to play for the Republic of Ireland at U21 level and signed a new contract in December.

Manchester United have never had so many talented goalkeepers on their books. It’s difficult to keep them all happy, but then it has been difficult to keep De Gea at the club for so long and United have managed that.

Although De Gea undoubtedly has able deputies waiting in the wings, United’s respectable defensive record relies heavily on the Spaniard’s often miraculous saves. It’s nice to know that talented backups exist, but the club will be doing everything in their power to keep him.

Andy Mitten is a freelance writer and the founder and editor of United We Stand. Follow him on Twitter: @AndyMitten.

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