#you know considering the clock wannabe that shows up

[e17omm]

5.6k words and I only now got through the big scenes of the chapter.

And this might be between two thirds and half of what I want to write. We'll see how much I end up adding to this chapter and what I might save for the future.

[settphel-enthusiast]

Headcanons ―

Ezkayn

#1 Shitters

Absolutely harasses the fuck out of Kayn in a loving way

Ezreal tries to prank the others like Aphelios does, but fails miserably

Encourages Kayn to harass the others and succeeds

They both get in trouble by Yone and get time out

K'sante gives them a good talking to

They make a fantastic singing duo, but one always tries to get in the way of the other to make the other look horrible (i.e. tripping, pushing, shoving, etc.)

Ezreal's jaw dropped after hearing Kayn's verse, he was obsessed. Did he tell Kayn? Hell no. He teased Kayn and called him a 'corpse wannabe'.

Love language is bullying each other

After a hard day of work and teasing each other, you can usually find them napping together; Ezreal's head on Kayn's shoulder and Kayn's head on Ezreal's head, usually holding hands

Aphelios took a photo and often uses it as blackmail to get them to work

They can never be in public together without arguing

Yone has considered putting one of those child bag-leash things on both of them to stop them from running off

At night however, they're usually gaming together, and they have really good synergy when they game; Kayn is an aggressive damage dealer and Ezreal is an engager and likes to pick and poke

They help each other dye their hair

Ezreal is the least intimidated by Rhaast, even though on the daily, Rhaast threatens to take Ezreal's soul -- 'Yeah okay buddy, shut up and sit still' while he's doing Kayn's makeup

During Sett's verse, Kayn wasn't allowed to be on screen because he kept laughing over the fact that Sett got clocked by a robot and Ezreal almost got ran over by a car

Deep down, Kayn really likes Ezreal, he just has a hard time showing it, and when he does? It's usually through harassment

Ezreal knows this, they do it back and send genuine hearts to each other after telling each other to eat shit and die

Ezreal also reminds Kayn to take his meds and eat food with them; often making breakfast for the both of them since they're both up later than the rest (in the most aggressive way possible)

But when they're alone without Sett, K'sante, Yone and Phel? They're sweethearts, and a lot gentler with each other.

While Kayn does graffiti art on the side, Ezreal likes collecting them, turning them to stickers and putting them all over his laptop, desk, etc.

[pekejscatbed]

Happy Birthday, Runaway | Jason Todd centric

Info/Warnings:

Translations:

Dios mío - oh my god, Padre Nuestro - the lord's prayer, Ave Maria - holy Mary, Gloria - glory be

set in the Runaway and Circus Boy universe

batman masterlist

------

The Gotham Clock Tower chimes from above as Robin ties up a wannabe purse snatcher, signifying a new day: August 16th.

"Good work, Robin." Batman doesn't sound impressed, and it probably has to do with Robin running off on his own, again, despite the many lectures The Batman has given him about not doing that exact thing.

Robin just grins at him, "Thanks, B-man."

And as the two crime fighters grapple away to finish patrolling the city, Robin swears he hears Batman wish him a happy birthday over the wind.

(When they finish patrol, after putting half a dozen new criminals in jail, and get back to the Batcave, there's a shiny black and red and yellow motorbike in the middle of cave that wasn't there before they left for patrol and that neither Robin nor Jason have ever seen before, and it has the Robin insignia on the side, and he thinks its brand new and-

"Custom made, for Robin."

(Jason gushes about it all the way up the stairs and the whole walk to his room and he wouldn't be surprised if he had talked about it in his sleep, too, because his dreams are filled of him riding his brand-new, custom-made Robin bike throughout the city and fighting crime, but on a motorcycle!))

------

"Happy fifteenth, Master Jason." 

Jason wakes up to the curtains in his bedroom being pulled open, the morning sun burning his sleepy eyes, and he immediately pulls the covers over his head and squeezes his green-blue eyes shut; said covers are snatched away only a second later by the same man who's just so kindly reminded him of his birthday.

"If you do not wish to open your presents, I can gladly send them back. I'm sure Master Bruce would agree." Alfred walks to Jason's bedroom door, only to pause, looking over his shoulder. "Not to mention, the breakfast I cooked up for you."

Alfred gestures to the boy's dresser before exiting the room, lightly shutting the door behind him, and it's only now that Jason recognizes the smell of food in his room and he rubs the remaining sleep out of his eyes before he looks over to his dresser to see a silver tray filled with all of his favorite breakfast foods and a glass of orange juice, no doubt fresh squeezed by Alfred himself. Jason wastes no time in grabbing the freshly cooked meal; birthdays are the only days Alfred will allow breakfast in bed, after all.

------

The day goes by slowly, school just as boring on Jason's birthday as it is any other day, and he doesn't have many friends to wish him happy birthday or receive presents from. The two friends he does have, though, have pulled their money together to buy Jason a new Nintendo DS game and a Playboy magazine one of the kid's older brothers bought for them (Jason laughs it off, trying not to show his discomfort; it's not like he could just tell his friends he's gay, who knows how they'd react?), and his English teacher gives him a brand new copy of How To Kill A Mockingbird, which his friends make fun of him for, but English has always been his favorite subject so he's never been anything but a teacher's pet when it comes to the sweet old lady who teaches his class. Plus, Jason's pretty sure she's a lesbian because she only ever refers to her spouse by gender-neutral terms despite the number of students and staff alike who seem to think she really intends to say "husband" and that she just "misspoke", and Jason's young, queer heart swells with joy knowing that there's other people out there in the world like him, especially older people. We've always been here.

(Jason spends all day wondering why Dick hasn't wished him a happy birthday, especially considering how the circus boy has always made such a huge deal about birthday in the past, and for a moment Jason panics- what if Dick knows I like him and he hates me for it and he never wants to speak to me again and- the final bell rings, interrupting Jason's thoughts, and the boy shakes his head as he grabs his backpack, making his way to Gotham Academy's front gates where Alfred picks him up in that ridiculous mini limousine that Jason hates because he just wants to feel like a normal kid and go to a normal high school, not this fancy, prestigious "academy" that Bruce and Alfred make him go to for a "proper" education.

Dios mío, I sound like a middle school girl.)

------

When Jason gets home (he only just recently started referring to Wayne Manor as home), Bruce is waiting for him at the door, a seriously serious look on his face, and Jason thinks he's in trouble for running off last night as Robin because he hasn't done anything else to piss the man off recently, at least, not that he can remember. Of course, instead of just asking what, if anything, he did wrong-

"You look constipated, old man. Seriously, who pissed in your Cheerios?"

"Master Jason!" Alfred looks offended for Bruce, though Jason's pretty sure it's only mock offense, if the laugh-disguised-cough is anything to go by; Bruce just rolls his eyes.

"Cave. Now." And Bruce is walking off, presumably to the nearest secret entrance to the Batcave. 

Jason sets down his backpack by the door, mumbling about "my birthday" and "one day off" and "I didn't even do anything", before following Bruce.

When he gets to the cave, Bruce- Batman- Bruce-Bat?- Bat-Bruce?- is already there, suit on except for the mask, and Jason wonders how the hell the man had enough time to change when Jason was only a whole ten steps behind him; Jason pulls on his suit as he speaks.

"What's up, B-man?" Jason looks at the screens on the Batcomputer, where he sees images of Joker and a woman with dark, curly hair and tan skin, as well as striking green eyes, and Jason thinks that she could be his biological mother if his dad hadn't told him she died during childbirth. "Who's she?"

Bat-Bruce doesn't reply right away, and Jason turns to the side to look at him, and only now does he see the deep frown on the mans lips and the far away look in his eyes. "Her name is Sheila Haywood."

He sounds... sad? Jason isn't sure what he hears in Bruce's voice, but he knows it's not good. "Okay...? What does Joker want with her?"

"Jason," Bruce pauses, takes a deep breath, then puts a hand on Jason's shoulder, "she's your birth mother."

The boy forces out a laugh, shrugging off Bruce's hand. "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Bruce. My mom's dead, died during childbirth, I never met the woman."

"She didn't die during childbirth, Jason. She was a doctor at Gotham General where she got caught preforming an illegal operation after her patient died, a girl no older than you are now, and fled the country to avoid jail time. She's been living abroad ever since." Bruce's frown deepens the more he talks, and his voice is flat, serious, and Jason knows he's telling the truth.

"How long have you known?"

"Jason," The man tries to explain, tries to calm Jason down, tries to do anything for the boy- but Jason-

"How long have you known, Bruce?" Jason is pissed, at Bruce for keeping this from him, at his dad for lying to him, at his mom for never contacting him, at himself for never looking into his birth mother but he never had any reason to so why would he have? And he raises his voice, "Why didn't you tell me my mother is alive!?"

Jason storms out of the cave, walking up the stairs, anger flooding his body and mind like the rainwater that used to flood the driveway of his old house with his dad during Gotham's raging storms, and he knows he needs to calm down or else he'll destruct and probably hurt himself in the process, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because he's been lied to his whole life by the people he thought he could trust- the people he should have been able to trust- and if they never cared enough about him to tell him the truth then why should he care about himself enough to take a deep breath, and calm down, and think- 

I'm going after her. Joker has her so she's in danger and I have to save her because she's my mom and I need to know why she never- I need to save her. For the mission, for the job.

Jason turns around, heading back down into the cave and putting on his domino mask. Batman is already gone, and so is the Batmobile; Robin checks the Batcomputer for Joker and his moms- Sheila's- location, hops onto his new bike, and revs the engine, speeding out of the Batcave. 

(In his hurry and his still simmering rage, Robin misses the glitch of numbers, misses the static of an outside source hacked into the Bat-frequency.)

------

Dick Grayson flashes a smile at his coworker as he walks out of the bar, ready to drive the hour-long trip from Blüdhaven to Gotham to surprise his little brother for his birthday. He had originally planned to get the day off from work so he could spend all day with Jason, but he waited too long to be approved for a vacation day, though luckily, he was able to convince his boss to only give him the day shift instead night (it really makes his night job much, much easier that way), so a sleepover will have to do, and Dick was never scheduled to work tomorrow anyway. Before he leaves, the bartender triple checks the trunk of his car for Jason's present and the cooler containing the homemade cake he baked yesterday afternoon, following a recipe Alfred had given him after Dick had quite literally gotten on his knees and begged, ever the Drama Queen.

------

The location brings Robin to a warehouse at the outskirts of Gotham. The place is definitely Jokers, with balloons and party streamers all over the outside, and when he looks inside via an open side window, he sees the interior matches the exterior with dark, velvet purple and acidic green party decorations. He sneaks through the window, ready to beat Joker and save Sheila, only for the lights to snap on- Joker knew he was coming- and Robin glances at the window, fucking motion detectors.

"Welcome, welcome, little Robin!" Joker stands in the middle of the warehouse, sickly grin stretching wide across his face, staring directly at the 'little' vigilante. "I've been expecting you! Hah, hahaha!"

Robin drops down in front of the laughing lunatic. "What do you want, Joker!? Where is Sheila Haywood!?"

"What do I want? Hm? Why to see the look on a certain birdies face when Mama Bird betrays him, of course!"

A rag is shoved in his face from behind before he can respond and he turns to see Sheila- his mother- standing there, before his vision fades and his body collapses.

------

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride You're toxic, I'm slippin' under With a taste of a poison-

Dicks about half-way to Gatham when his phone goes off, Brittany Spears serenading his eardrums. He answers the call at a red light, glancing at the Caller I.D. long enough to read "Alfred", and puts the phone on speaker before the light turns green and he's moving again.

"Hey, Alfred! What's up?"

"Master Richard," Alfreds voice is shaky as he speaks, and Dick's eyebrows furrow together in worry, "Master Jason is... missing."

------

Cold, wet.

Robin gasps awake, body shivering as ice-cold water is thrown at his face, soaking his hair and trailing down his forehead-nose-cheeks-chin until the liquid lands on his suit, soaking through his body armor. His can feel the rope around his wrists and ankles, and Robin realizes he's tied to a chair. He hears Joker before he sees him, that sickeningly sadistic laugh screaming at his eardrums and aggravating his already pounding head; he must have hit his head on the ground earlier when he fell, or maybe it's just a side effect of being fucking drugged in the first place.

"Jason Todd!" The Joker is directly in front of him, and it's only now that Robin- Jason- realizes his mask is gone. "Oh, don't look so surprised, little bird! How would I have known about Mommy Dearest if I didn't know about you?"

"Trap. This was a-"

"A trap!" Joker mimics him, screeching like a siren, before he throws the bucket he was holding to the ground, the sound ringing throughout the warehouse, suddenly angry. "God! How stupid are you? The other kid would've sniffed that out from the beginning! Seriously, how did Bats find you? Did you get dropped on your head as a baby? Oh, oh!"

The Joker grins again and walks behind Jason, sharply turning the chair he's bound to, and now Jason can see his mom tied to a support beam; duct tape covers her mouth, crimson slipping through the tape and dripping down her chin. Her curly hair is disheveled and sticking up at odd angles, and her emerald eyes are wide, shaking with fear. She struggles against her restraints and the clown laughs again, stalking over to Sheila.

"Why don't we ask her?" Joker rips the tape off of Sheila's mouth, cackling as she lets out a short scream, and Jason gasps once more, immediately noticing the long, jagged cuts on either side of her mouth, mimicking a smile. "Did Mama Bird drop Baby Birdie on his head?"

Sheila doesn't respond, just shaking her head back and forth, blood spilling down her tan cheeks and staining her clothes. She whimpers when Joker pulls at her hair and demands an answer. "No, no, no!"

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Jason knows he should be mad, Sheila betrayed him, her own son, but she's still his mother and he can't just sit back and watch as Joker abuses her- but he has to, because his utility belt is gone so he has no tools he can use to cut his way free and Joker is looking at him like he knows exactly what Jason is think and he just laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"Aw, how sweet! Baby Bird wants to protect Mommy!" Joker lets go of Sheila's hair, practically throwing her head to the side. 

Suddenly, Joker is behind Jason again, and then Jason hears the screeching sound of metal dragging against concrete, and his brain pounds, pounds, pounds against his skull and he pulls against his binds, twisting and turning as much as he can and-

THUNK!

His head jerks back at the force and the next hit has him falling sideways in the chair until he hits the ground, and he swears he can hear his skull crack against the concrete. 

"Ha! HAHAHA!" The Joker is in front of him now, bending over to look at him, and Jason can see the crowbar in his paper white hands for a split second before he's being hit again, and again, and again, body being battered black and blue as his costume is ripped to shreds with each hit and his own blood is pooling around him in a puddle, and if he looks down, he can see his bones poking through skin like the jagged rocks of a mountain.

As his bones crack and break, Jason can hear his mother praying in her native tongue through her sobs, Padre Nuestro and Ave Maria and Gloria filling his ears enough to block out the crazy clown's gruesome giggles.

And as Jason takes his last breath, he realizes his dad was right all those years ago; he does look like the spitting image his mother. They share the same dark, curly hair, and they have the same naturally tan skin dotted with freckles, and Jason's eyes are a similar shade of green, though his are tinted the with the pale blue of his father's eyes.

(A load BOOM! shakes the foundation of the old warehouse, smoke and flames engulfing the building and spreading through the air, but Jason doesn't even flinch.)

------

Joker is long gone by the time Batman and Nightwing get to the scene, and his decorations are burned to a crisp from the explosion, minus a single balloon that reads "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" in big, cursive letters, tied to a bloody crowbar and surrounded by a multitude of custom Joker playing cards, stylized in the whitest of white and dark purple and acid green.

The two vigilantes run into the falling warehouse, shifting through rubble and searching for, screaming for, "Robin! Robin! Jason!"

They find Sheila first, she's hunched over, and her clothes are singed, barely covering her, allowing Nightwing and The Batman to see the extensive burns on her back, and she's muttering the same phrase over and over again, "Lo siento, lo siento mucho!" 

"Dr. Haywood?" She whips around at Nightwings voice, and both him and Batman grimaces at the carved smile on her face.

"Help! Help him!" Sheila sobs, turning back to what- who- she was hunched over. "Help my baby!"

Batman gives a sharp intake at the sight of Jason, kneeling next to Shelia to pick the boy up; she grabs at his arm, but her grip is weak, and he notices how shallow her breath is. "Nightwing, get her out of here. She needs medical attention. I've got Jason."

If the break in his voice is heard, no one acknowledges it. 

"He didn't deserve this! He was a good boy, he didn't deserve this!" Sheila cries as Nightwing helps her to her feet, but she does nothing to stop him, and he guides her out of the building; Batman follows behind them, Jason's bruised and beaten body laying limp in his arms, and he falls to his knees once they're all far enough away from the building, tears forcing their way out of his tear ducts and streaming down his face as he holds his deceased son in his arms.

"Sheila, she didn't- she barely made it out of the building before she..." Nightwing leans down next to him, voice trailing off and face painted in tears as he holds Jason's unmoving hand in his own. He whispers, "Happy Birthday, Runaway." 

The warehouse crumbles behind them, crashing down as Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson mourn the loss of a son, a brother, and a friend.

[freeleague]

Most wanted 2 review

There are plenty of better and more well-rounded hidden object games for agents looking for adventure. Other than a new story, Interpol 2: Most Wanted doesn’t come with enhancements or new features, so Agent wannabes should consider whether they want to invest in a package that’s basically the same but with new missions. The game has a tendency to drone on, with every level feeling like a re-run of an episode. However, some agents might just ignore everything in between as it doesn’t enthrall or affect the missions.Īs electrifying as the graphics and theme may be, they alone don’t make a winning formula for a game. At the end, the game explains why agents must seek these non-spy essential items. HQ asks agents to look for hearts, yin and yang, peace symbols, and other seemingly unrelated items. Smart agents know where to get the information so they can take care of business. Hidden item lists often contain cultural things that might not be familiar to agents. Those who like to pump up their vocabularies have opportunities to learn new words in the game. The scene showed two of them, but Interpol 2 only accepts one and not the other. One scene lists “Thoth,” the Egyptian deity with the head of an ibis. The hidden items list has an occasional problem. It’s bad enough that many objects don’t click on the first or second try. This annoys sharp agents who find the next item faster than the game would let them successfully click.

They must wait a couple of seconds before clicking the next found object. If agents click one item after the next, the next won’t take. Interpol 2 gives agents limited time to find everything they need, but the clock never comes close to running out of time even though agents need to take time clicking between objects. Agents need to use them wisely with objects blending too well with the background in the end of level puzzle. No more, no less, no winning extra hints.

After finding the minimum number of objects needed, HQ requests the agent to use a magnifying glass to check out a scene to find 10 of the same objects, or compare the differences between two scenes (the same scene every single time).Įvery level comes with four hints. Magnifying glasses, butterflies, and canes are popular.Īll missions except the earliest ones contain three places for hunting down objects. The list of needed objects changes a little with some objects appearing in the list repeatedly. Scenes reflect the countries’ culture and history, but as the boss sends you to previously visited locales, the scenes have little – if any change – to the objects and their placement. It’s evident in most aspects of the game. Petersburg, Cairo, India, Barcelona, and U.S. The first thing that impresses you about Most Wanted - and there are many highlights to choose from - is the sheer quality and craftsmanship of the game. The boss sends the agent on missions to track down each criminal.

[majahu]

Scream: Ski Trip

Chapter 3: Blue’s Your Color

Chapter 2

Word Count: 1,332

You didn't go to school the next morning, still shaken up from your encounter with the masked killer the previous night. You rolled over, rubbing your eyes and trying to make out the numbers on your alarm clock: 10:35 am. You yawned, sitting up. You weren't sure what time you feel asleep, but surprisingly that was the last night in a while you hadn't woken up terrified from a nightmare. Walking into your bathroom and flipping on the light, you stared at your face in the mirror, mascara had settled under your eyes and you had a severe case of bed-head. You squeezed a blue and white swirl of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and stuck it into your mouth. You weren't sure what time Billy left last night, but you were thankful he stayed until you fell asleep, sure that if he wasn't there thoughts of ghostface would've kept you up all night. You spit into the sink and, spiraling down towards the drain you noticed some red spots in the sea of foam. You must've bit your cheek while you slept last night.

Pulling on your green Gap brand sweatshirt, you went downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a container of rolled oats out of the pantry. As you boiled water for your oatmeal, you noticed a bright pink sticky note on the counter—a note from your parents:

Try to relax today.

We love you; call if you need anything.

- Mom and Dad

You knew your parents were worried about you but there was nothing you could do now. You had answered all the questions the police asked you last night and had given them a statement. Now, all you could do was wait for the blood sample to be processed and hope to God they found a match.

Pouring hot water over your bowl of oats and stirring, your thoughts drifted to your friends at school. Would they wonder why you weren't there? Did Billy tell you what happened? You were sure you'd get a phone call from Tatum or Sidney as soon as school let out.

When your oatmeal was done, you brought a tray over to your couch, flicking on the tv and scrolling through the channels. Purposefully ignoring the news channels you settled on one that was airing old episodes of Saved by the Bell: College.

That's how you spent the rest of your day, curled up on the couch watching reruns of shows you had already seen, trading one snack for another. It was boring, but still better than being at school considering how Casey and Steve's killer was still at large and was, potentially, one of your fellow classmates. You weren't sure why the killer had chosen to attack you, but then again you didn't know why he had killed Casey or Steve either.

You looked over at the clock: 3:45 pm. You were sure you'd get a call from one of your friends any time now. As if on cue, the phone rang.

Your heart pounded and an anxious feeling stirred in your stomach. Come on (Y/N), it's not gonna be him.

It's probably Sidney or Tatum or Randy, hell, it has a better chance of being Dewey than that masked lunatic.

Exhaling, you picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, (Y/N)." The voice on the other end said; unmistakably Stu Macher. “Um, hey Stu” you hadn’t talked much to Tatum’s boyfriend the past couple of days, still kind of mad about how casually he treated Casey and Steve’s deaths. “You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Stu frowned. “No. I’m just processing a lot.”

“Billy told me. Are you okay?” You weren’t sure how to respond to this question. Physically you were fine, but mentally your encounter would be a lot to come back from. Every time you thought about it, a chill ran down your spine. “I’m just shaken up is all.”

“Well,” you could practically hear Stu smile, “do I have some news to cheer you up or not?”

“Yeah?” You said, curious now as to what the wannabe jock was planning. “No school!” He hollered through the phone.

“What? Why? Did something happen?” “Oh, well uh- Sidney ran into our little friend in the bathroom today. Made an epic escape though!” “Stu!” You gasped in shock. “That isn’t something to joke about, is she okay? Did she get hurt?”

“She’s fine.” Stu drawled, already seeming bored of the topic. “Is- is the ski trip still on?” You said, feeling kind of stilly to still be asking about it, but you and your friends really needed an escape. “Yep! But they’re checking everyone’s bags before we get on the bus, making sure the killer isn’t one of us” Stu said in a mock-spooky voice. You rolled your eyes, “enough with the jokes, Stu.”

“Hey, I can’t help it, humor is my coping mechanism.”

“I’ll see you Friday.” You said, hanging up the phone.

Maybe you’d invite Sidney and Tatum over tonight; you were sure it would be comforting for all of you to spend some time together. Hopefully uninterrupted by your ‘little friend’ as Stu had affectionately referred to the killer.

Sidney and Tatum were laying on your bedroom floor reading a magazine you had picked up at the store as you sat at your desk, painting your toenails baby blue to match your freshly done manicure.

“I can’t believe this is happening” Sidney said, burying her face in her hands, “school isn’t even safe!” Clearly your ‘girl’s night’ had not been enough to distract her from what happened this morning. “Which is why we’re getting away for the weekend!” Tatum said, smiling, “no more psycho killers! Just us and our boy toys,” she winked, “Hey, maybe (Y/N) and Meeks will even get together!”

“Oh shut up!” You rolled your eyes, throwing a cotton ball at her head. “We all know he has a thing for Sid anyway” you grinned. With all the trauma you three had been through, it was nice to laugh for once. For a second it seemed like you could forget you were being taunted by your classmates’ murderer.

And then the phone rang.

You and Sidney jumped, wincing slightly at the sound. Tatum stood up, “I’ll get it”. She walked over to your desk, picking up the receiver and holding it to her ear. Someone said something on the other end and she held the phone out so you and Sidney could hear.

“Having a sleep over?” The low raspy voice sounded from the receiver, “without me, I’m offended!”

“What do you want?!” Tatum shouted, more fed up with the situation than afraid.

“I don’t want anything from you girls, not tonight anyway. Don’t worry, I won’t be checking in on you. Besides, I don’t wanna put my Sid through too much in one day; where’s the fun in that?” he laughed.

“Fucking creep.” Tatum murmured.

“And (Y/N). That nail color looks great on you. Really makes your veins pop!” the voice laughed one more time before Tatum hung up the phone, ending the call.

“Tatum!” You grabbed onto you friend’s arm worried. “What if you made him mad?”

“(Y/N), Sid, don’t you understand this is exactly what he wants? He wants to scare you, he wants you to feel unsafe in your own homes. That’s why we’re getting the hell out of dodge this weekend.” She gave the two of you a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay. Maybe they’ll even catch the guy before we get back.” You hadn’t heard back about the blood sample yet, but you were sure the police would be in contact with you soon.

As empowering as Tatum’s speech was, you couldn’t help but let the phone call rattle you. You spent the next few minutes vigorously running the blue nail polish off of your nails, all the while feeling like you were being watched from outside of your bedroom window.

[2-player-game]

Haikyuu x reader new years HC

Tendo

• "What if they think I'm a monster?" The redhead mumbled to himself, pacing back and forth.

• He was currently alone in his house, trying to work up the courage to ask you out at the Shiratorizawa new years party. All he had to do was head down to the dorm lobby and he'd be there, so he couldn't be late.

• He just didn't want to make a fool of himself if you were to reject him.

• His hands are very sweaty and he fidgets with the bandages around his fingers which he had forgotten to take off from yesterday's practice match.

• He runs a hand through his hair, god why was he so nervous? You were just some person, why did was he overthinking this so much?

• He's snapped out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. He opens his eyes wide, slowly walking over to open the door. He stops in his tracks.

• It was you.

• Why were you here?

• "Hey y/n! Why aren't you at the party?" He asked, tilting his head, he stepped outside so the two of you could talk in the hall.

• "I just hadn't seen you around the party and thought I'd check on you" you spoke, looking up at him. You would have assumed he would have loved the atmosphere. Maybe you didn't know your crush all too well..

• "Oh!! Yeah I was just about to leave. Let's go y/n!!" He said, grabbing a hold of your hand and dragging you back to the party.

• You giggled as he dragged you back to where you once were with such excitement. He was so fun and happy. You wanted to spend every year of your life with him.

Goshiki

• This precious boy is nervous

• He's shaking and he's so jumpy

• You two are at a new years party with Shiratorizawa, you two were hanging out as friends.

• Little did you know the wannabe ace had feelings for you, and at the moment Tendo was hyping him up so he could kiss you at the stroke of midnight.

• Grabbing yourself a drink and sitting down, you look down at your phone and smile as everyone has fun, you looked around, yet couldn't find Goshiki.

• A sigh escaped your lips, your hand running through your hair as you looked around.

• Looking down at the clock you glance at the time

• The clock read 11:56pm, four minutes until the new year. God, would some stranger try to kiss you? Ugh, sounds awful.

• You look up to see a very stiff Goshiki, a pink tint on his face as he slowly sits down next to you.

• A smile greets your face. "Hey Tomu, where have you been?" You asked

• He jumped from hearing your voice, "I uh, I was talking to Satori-san!" He explained, which wasn't wrong but he may not have given you every detail.

• You chuckled, looking over at him, "okay, just don't leave me for such a long time, I got so bored without you!" You said extending your arm over the couch.

• "Yeah, I won't do it again, I promise" he said, you noted how stiff and uncomfortable he looked.

• Roughly 3 minutes passed and you noticed it was 30 seconds until midnight, wow time really does fly by.

• You look at Goshiki, he's twiddling with his thumbs, and he keeps glancing at you.

• You hear people start to count down, mostly Tendo shouting just to keep things entertaining

• 10!

• 9!

• 8!

• 7!

• 6!

• 5!

• 4!

• 3!

• 2!

• You feel lips crash against yours, your eyes widen looking to see who had just kissed you. And.. it was Goshiki.

• You were speechless. You had never considered dating him, but, he was always so sweet to you, and he hadn't done anything wrong. Plus he was pretty cute. You smile into the kiss, playing with his hair. You could hear Tendo snickering from across the room.

Ushijima

• Today was the day

• It was the perfect opportunity to ask out the head of Shiratorizawas volleyball team

• That's right, Ushijima Wakatoshi, the man of your dreams

• Sure he wasn't normally your type, but there was something about him that made him special. There was something to him that made him seem special. He was so.. cool? You never knew how to describe him.

• The Shiratorizawa dormitory was hosting a new years party in the lobby, you put on one of your best outfits, you felt confident in your charisma to speak to your crush, which the male lacked.

• Glancing at the time, you read the clock.

• Shit

• 11:58 the clock read

• Oh shit, you spent so much time getting ready, you had completely lost track of time.

• You rushed outside of your dorm, you were so stupid!!

• As you rushed out to the party, you felt a sudden thud as you collided into a large mass.

• You fell to the ground, looking up you saw him, Ushijima. He stared down at you, an almost unapologetic look on his face.

• "Oh. Are you alright?" He asked, extending a hand, which you eagerly took, he hoisted you up back to your feet.

• "I.. yeah I'm fine, why aren't you downstairs with everyone else?" You asked, looking up at the tall man, you were confused as to why he could possibly be here.

• He was about to answer before you remembered your purpose, "nevermind, what time is it?" You asked.

• "It's 10 seconds until midnight, what is the significance of wanting to know the time so late at night?" He asked.

• "Okay listen Ushiwaka, I need to tell you something. I really really like you, and I'd like to start the new year with you" you spoke, looking up at him. You were embarrassed, but proud of yourself.

• You watched him kneel down to your height, placing a kiss on your lips, he pulled away slowly, but made sure it wasn't too long.

Asahi

• Homeboy is stressed

• Currently Noya is trying to hype him up outside of the gym, since that was where Kurasuno's volleyball team wanted to have a party, and though it wasn't actually going to be a real party at midnight since most had to spend time with their family, they would still have a fun time during daylight.

• He definitely dressed way too formal for this, it was supposed to be casual but he showed up in a fancy suit, his hair all fancy, trimming his beard.

• He was ready to ask you out physically, but no where close mentally.

• Meanwhile you were inside the gym speaking to Yachi and Kiyoko, chatting about your new years resolutions and what you had planned for family. You guys agreed to all spend some time after the party and go out and have some extra fun.

•  Soon, everyone had arrived, music was playing loudly around the gym, cheap colorful lights for decoration, Takeda and Ukai actually weren't there, they were getting drunk together somewhere in town.

• The time was roughly 4:30, a pretty good time for teenagers to enjoy themselves at a party. Asahi was standing in the corner, Sugawara was helping him this time.

• You glanced at the two, Asahi was looking more.. intriguing today, he looked nice, but nervous, was he planning on asking someone out?

�� You pondered this though, glancing over at the two, Asahi had a bright blush on his face, and Suga seemed confident in what he was saying.

• Asahi was soon pushed out back into somewhere close to the center, Suga laughed as he watched the male walk timidly in your direction.

• You tilt your head in confusion, but before you had time to process what he could ever possibly be doing, he was already right in front of you.

• "Y/n, I need to speak with you in private.. is that alright with you?" He asked, you nodded, allowing him to take you to a more secluded area of the gym.

• "I..I really like you y/n! I'd like to spend my life with you! If.. that's okay of course." He spoke.

• You chuckled. Kissing this tip of his nose, "Asahi, you're really sweet, ya know that?" Accepting his confession.

• You swore his face was red for a whole week

Suga

• Oh boy he's cocky.

• Not cocky in a way that he was bragging, but he was definitely confident in his charismatic ability to woo you.

• At least that's what he said to Daichi

• Don't get him wrong, he wasn't scared like Asahi

• Confidently walking into the Kurasuno Gym where a party was being hosted for the team, he noticed you were off more to the side.

• As Suga entered, you were thinking about how you would ask him out.

• A face dusted in pink once you both msre eye contact, Asahi had dragged the grey haired male off to the corner as he spoke about his crush, giving him some advice he pushed the taller male towards his crush.

• He laughed as he watched Asahi stumble towards his crush, he went off to do his own job.

• Walking up to you, he extended a hand towards you, "care to dance?" He asked, as a very spunky song started to play.

• The two of you danced around, laughing together, people watch, and though no one joined in, no one seemed to laugh or make fun if you.

• After the song was coming to an end, the male leaned in close, mumbling a quiet, "can I kiss you?" You nodded, your lips colliding into a passionate yet caring kiss.

Kiyoko

• Oh my god

• Can I just say

• This woman is the definition of gorgeous

• Btw in this story you're a girl because I think the only man Kiyoko could get with is Tanaka and otherwise she loves women.

• I love her so much

• And so do you, she is the light of your life. She's so pretty, and kind. She inspires you to do things you'd never do.

• The two of you were leaving the Kurasuno party to go to the sauna for an hour, though Yachi had to cancel because her mother was finally home for the day, the two of you decided to enjoy yourselves and have some girl time alone together.

• Once arriving at the sauna, you two rented out a personal bath, undressing yourselves you two got into the warm water.

• A sigh of relief escaped Kiyokos lips, she was definitely stressed due to having to deal with a whole team of volleyball players.

• You noticed her legs were pulled up to her chest. "Your legs, they're covered in scars. I heard you used to do track and field but I didn't think they'd leave that big of a mark." You said.

• The females ears perked up as you spoke. "Oh, yeah. I fall quite often, I used to be so clumsy back then." She giggled, tucking some stray hair back from behind her ear.

• "Well, whether you like them or not I think they're beautiful. Scars make people unique." You said with a smile.

• Kiyoko smiled, looking over at you. "Thank you, y/n. Your way with words really amazes me." She said, turning to face you.

• Time passed, the two of you spoke, laughing and enjoying yourselves. Once you two were about to leave, Kiyoko stops you.

• "Before we depart, we should definitely hang out together a lot more. I like spending time with you alone."

Lev

• Oh boy

• This man

• this stupid lanky man, doesn't even realize he has a crush on you.

• Yaku literally had to spell it out for him and he still didn't understand

• "Wait.. I'm in love with y/n? That isn't possible, I mean sure I get really happy when I see them, and they're really fun to be around! But I don't like them like that."

• Yaku had to go through so much to get it through his thick skull, "that idiot, those two of you are so dumb neither would even notice." He mumbled.

• Now as Yaku mentioned earlier, the two of you are actual idiots, two dumbasses who keep eachother somewhat out of trouble.

• Kuroo was hosting a party at his house for the team, and being their manager you were invited as well.

• Knocking on the door, you were one of the last to show up to the party, as Kuroo opened the door, you walked inside and saw him.

• "Lev!!!!" You shouted excitedly, jumping into his arms, wrapping the Russian in a hug as if you didn't see him yesterday.

• "Y/n!!!" The male cheered, picking you up and whirling you around. He was happy to see you, barely even thinking about what Yaku had said about the two of you both having mutual feeling which neither of you even knew about.

• The Nekoma party was going well, Kuroo was chatting with most of the team, Kenma was sitting in Kuroos room avoiding people, Yaku kept to himself, sometimes glaring at lev when he was being an idiot.

• The sun had set long ago, and the team was preparing to count ten seconds to midnight.

• As the countdown began, you and Lev shouted and cheered the numbers in unison, but just as soon as everyone was about to shout "1" you felt a small palm grip the back of your head and push your lips into the silver haired males.

• Pulling away with a laugh, you noticed that Yaku had a grip on both of your heads, the shorter male had forced the two of you into a kiss, which unsurprisingly both of you enjoyed.

• "That was fun y/n! Let's do it again!" He cheered, a large smile on his face.

Aone

• Similar to Asahi, my homeboy is nervous

• He struggled to show it, but he does love you, he just doesn't know what to do about the growing sickness in his stomach when he sees you.

• Luckily he got some help from the internet, telling how to flirt with his crush.

• Though date tech wasn't hosting a party or anything, you had invited him over to your house to hang out for new years. Since your parents were out of town, you two had the night to yourselves.

• You heard a knock on your door, upon opening it you looked up to see the tall male which you had invited.

• "Oh! Hey Takanobu, come inside. You arrived later than I had expected, I didn't think you'd even show up!" You laughed, walking him up to your room so the two of you could relax.

• "I'm sorry, should I have.. shown up sooner?" He asked, and before he could let you answer he remembered he had brought you something. "I brought you flowers, is that okay? I heard most people enjoy them on occasions like this." He spoke in such a soft tone, needing reassurance for his actions. He was stiff, standing awkwardly at the door of your bedroom.

• You smiled, reassuring him that you were very thankful. You gestured him to sit on your bed with you, you hoped he'd make himself comfortable in your home.

• As he sat down, you smiled. The two of you spoke for hours, never once was it awkward for either of you. I guess that's why Aone loved you, you were so easy to talk to, and you could always hold a conversation with him.

• As time went on, neither of you seemed to realize just how late it was, you had spoken for so long that you lost track of time.

• In a small break of silence, the larger male spoke up.

• "Y/n, I've.. known you for quite some time and though I may be scary, and you might hate me, I wanted to say that I like you a lot. I'd like to see you as more than a friend." He spoke, a furiously red blush coating his cheeks as he sputtered out the words that came to his mind.

• You giggle, looking up at him you kiss him on the cheek, "I could never be afraid of you, Aone, you're one of the sweetest people I know. I like you too." You spoke with a smile, looking down you checked the time.

• "That kiss was right on time I guess. It's exactly midnight!"

[mydeardeath]

Forever mine

TimDamiWeek day two : League of Assassins

Sorry for any mistakes, this was not proofread.

Also on AO3

¤

Tim is no longer a vigilante, not really. He still worked as the new oracle on a regular basis, but he was rarely on the street himself. Most of his time was dedicated to WE and to creating a better future. He had abandoned his role as CEO to work for the research department, putting his brain to good use. While most of his projects were for clean energy, he also worked on better equipment for the bats. 

It had been weird to hang up his cape, for him and the family. He had been the first one to abandon the R peacefully and chose his own replacement. He hadn't known Duke that well at the time, but he never regretted choosing him. The man had easily fit into the family, Bruce hadn't complained much, and Jason had been accepting of the new Robin.

A few years had passed since he had hung up the cap, and he had picked up his habit of following the dynamic duo at night. He did not indulge in it that often, but they were nights where he would climb on rooftops and watch the action from afar. Tonight had been one of those nights. Tim had finished his most recent project and had taken a few days off. He sat upon a building overlooking the diamond district, offering a great view of the fight going on below. It still amazed him to see Dick flying through the air, even after so many years spent working alongside the man.

A few months back, he would have been tempted to jump in to fight alongside Dick, but now he just appreciated the show. Dick is going up against a major threat, just kicking the ass of a few wannabe robbers.

The night is somewhat calm for Gotham, and Tim doesn't see the attack. One minute his eyes were on the street below, the next he's swaying dangerously on the roof's edge. He had barely time to regain his footing that another blow came to hit him in the back. He thankfully managed to avoid the next one and rolled back to a safer place.  It doesn't take long for his attacker to come at him again, but this time he's facing him. It took a split second for Tim to identify his opponent as League of assassins. His memory takes him back to his meetings with Pru, Z, and Owen. He had not hesitated to fight them. This man, even standing alone, seemed more dangerous than they were. It's obvious by his stance that the guy has proper training, but what made Tim anxious were his own abilities. Tim was still dangerous himself, but he imagined that this man trained more frequently than him recently. Probably studied Tim's fighting style before attacking him, knowing the level of preparation the league put behind its assassination attempts. Tim can't afford to make a mistake. Hell, he should call Bruce or someone, but he doubted the assassin would let him make a call or even reach for his phone. 

They danced around each other, exchanging a few blows. Tim could see that the man was holding back as if he was playing with his prey and waiting for him to get tired. He needed to find a way out of it, quickly.

His biggest hope might be to catch Dick he was still near him, but that would mean giving his back to that guy, and Tim didn't like that idea much. He still decided to attempt it. He packed a powerful punch toward his assailant before taking off to the next building's roof. Tim had never been the strongest in the family, but he was fast. He also had the advantage of having spent years on those rooftops and knew them better than this man. In the end, it didn't matter at all. The man didn't try to catch up to him, just threw a small knife to his leg that made him lose his balance. Then the man jumped after him. He was on Tim in no time, katana in hand. He managed to avoid the first slash but, soon, he felt the blade sliced through his skin. The wound wasn't deep, but the assassin kept going, covering his body in cuts. 

Tim retaliated with a few blows of his own or attempted to anyway. The man was more than good. He could read him so easily, and Tim stood even less chance as time passed as his movement became slower and sloppier while his assailant was moving with grace, dancing around him. Tim fell to the ground a few minutes later, hitting his head hard on the floor. He tried to stand, but a harsh blow to the head made his vision blur, and all he could do was try to crawl away. 

That was not how he had imagined dying. 

 ***

 Tim startled awake to the sound of his alarm clock. He attempted to reach for his phone, but searing pain stopped him midway. Yesterday's fights came back to him, and Tim wondered how he was still alive. It had looked like an assassination, not a kidnapping.

Tim slowly pushed himself in a sitting position in the bed, in arms straining under the effort of carrying his aching body. His wounds had been tended to and bandaged. Some painkillers were even waiting for him on the nightstand, next to his phone and some clean clothes.

Somebody had taken him to what seemed to be a hotel suite and taken care of him. Whoever it had been, wasn't part of their family or they would have taken him to the batcave. It didn't seem that Tim would have an answer quite yet about his mysterious savior. He couldn't hear a sound in the suite, and unless his savior was hiding, he was completely alone.

Tim didn't want to stay in bed too long and force himself up despite his body's protests. He needed to inform Bruce of what had happened. He wasn't a fool, the league didn't like to leave jobs unfinished, and the whole fiasco of the previous was proof enough that Tim couldn't protect himself from that threat. The realization had not been pleasant. But keeping in shape was apparently not enough, not against that kind of opponent.

Once he managed to gather the energy to get dressed and inspect the room(to no avail, there was no clue of who had brought him here), he hailed a taxi to drive to the manor. He was far too tired to make the trip to his own house and take his car.

Tim hoped that the driver hadn't recognized him, he didn't need to make the front page while looking beaten up. That would be hard to explain to the press, and Tim still didn't like dealing with them despite how many times he had to. 

Tim gave him a good tip before exiting the car, hoping he would keep silent about dropping off a beaten up man at Wayne Manor. Then he made his way to the front door where Alfred had appeared. The butler led him straight to the medbay with a somber expression. He knew that Tim wasn't the kind to get in a fight. That was not supposed to happen to him now that he was retired.

The cave was empty at this hour. Bruce was probably sound asleep at this hour, and nobody else was living at the manor nowadays. Tim let Alfred examine him in silence, still tired and preferring to wait for Bruce to start speaking. He was sure to get a thorough interrogation, so he didn't see the need to tell Alfred every detail right now, simply informing him that it was the league of assassins.

Tim was glad to learn that he didn't have any kind of internal injury. He had hit the ground pretty hard, but he was not concussed. The only problem Tim could have to face now was septicemia because of his weaker immune system. Alfred would keep an eye on him to check he didn't forget his medication, and that would give even more of an excuse to make him stay at the manor for a while.

 ***

 Tim couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched. He had already checked his room twice for cameras, and even though he had found none, he still felt observed. It was hard to tell if the presence if was feeling was a friendly one, watching his back, or an enemy waiting to strike him down.

He knew that Bruce was worried about the league of assassins. Batman hadn't run into Ra's Al Ghul in a while, and Bruce couldn't decipher why he would send his men after Tim now. Tim's works with Wayne Enterprise didn't interfere with any of the league business. There was nothing he could think of that would explain the sudden interest in Tim.

Everyone was worried about him. Bruce had demanded that Cass came home. She was by far the best fighter in the family and had been assigned as his unofficial bodyguard. Wherever he went, she was never far.

Usually, Tim would appreciate the time spent in her company, but he could tell she was tense. She was better at hiding than most, but they had known each other for a while, and Tim had been getting good at reading her microexpressions. 

Not that Tim was faring better. Barely a day after he had gotten to the manor, he had received a gift elegantly wrapped. Bruce had been the one to open it in the batcave, not trusting a mysterious package arriving shortly after the attack.

The box hadn't exploded as they opened or anything of the kind. It simply held a dagger on a velvet pad. A very ancient and beautiful one, that was still sharp and ready to use. Guessing the origin of the dagger wasn't a hardship, especially considering the note that accompanied it. "You should always be prepared, Timothy."

That was a warning, Tim was sure. The assassin was playing with him. He wanted Tim to offer a bit more of a challenge. 

Bruce had taken the note and analyze it thoroughly, from the type of paper to the handwriting. It was a lot of effort for nothing. It was unlikely that any of Ra's assassins would be in the cave database. Bruce didn't like not knowing why Tim was suddenly targeted by the league and not being able to predict when the next attack would come.

The next days passed in a tense atmosphere. Tim tried to relax and appreciate the time he got off work, but there were always shadows or doors creaking that made him jump to his feet, ready to fight for his life. That was not the greatest time off Tim could have had.

Tim was glad to be back at his office, finally able to take his mind off the attack to concentrate on his work, even if it meant waking up thirty minutes earlier than usual to put on make-up to cover his bruises.

Tim smiled at his secretary as if he was perfectly rested and had an awesome time during his break. She returned it with a knowing smile as if she was on a secret. Tim was pretty dumbfounded. He didn't think he had fooled her enough that she would actually think he had had that sort of fun while he was away. She seemed pretty excited nonetheless and Tim finally understood why when he entered his office. There was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips waiting for him in his office. Tim wasn't an expert when it came to the language of flower but it was pretty sure that red was the color of passion or something like that. It was doubtful that it was the company or a client sending it to him to say "good job".

Tim dismissed his secretary and gave a suspicious glare at the flowers. He had not been on a date in a while or even flirted with anyone recently. There was no reason for him to receive such a thing. Tim was almost tempted to send the flowers to be analyzed in case there were hiding poisonous spores but he would most likely pass as a madman to his employees. Still, he put in a far corner of the room, near the windows with the prepared excuse that flowers needed the sun to thrive. In a few days, it would be deemed acceptable for him to throw them away without generating gossip about him turning down an affectionate lover.

Tim spent most of his time working in the labs instead of his office, all to avoid the bouquet. Maybe he was just paranoid, but he preferred to be careful. Plus, that allowed him to also avoid his secretary who seemed to make him want to spill interesting details so that she could report them to the rest of the employees. Not that there was any to give. Tim just preferred to avoid the subject.

 ***

 A week after he had gone back to work, Bruce deemed it safe enough for him to go back to his own loft. Alfred had dropped off some casseroles while Tim was still in his office, so Tim could sink onto his couch to eat a delicious meal while watching some shitty tv show.

It's only the following morning that he noticed the flowers in his room. A bouquet of purple hyacinth this time, according to the quick search he made. 

Somehow, he doubted those had been from Alfred too. There was a note accompanying it this time, still handwritten in the same beautiful calligraphy. "Please accept my sincerest apologies, Timothy."

That had Tim wondering. Had the assassin not been sent by Ra's? He hadn't thought of one of Ra's agent going rogue. It could explain why he had never come back. Betraying Ra's often meant death.

Ra's Al Ghul wasn't the kind to lie, not like that anyway. If he had been the one threatening Tim's life, he wouldn't have tried to pretend otherwise. And the man did have a weird obsession with Tim at some point that could explain the tulips.

Tim wasn't one hundred percent sure that his life was no longer in danger, but he did finally start to relax.

Three weeks after the initial attack, Tim's peace was once again shattered. It was a different assassin this time. Not one trained by the league or with any real experience, Tim was sure of it as the man started to taunt him instead of doing his job, telling him how much money he would make from killing him and what he would do with that much in his pocket. His obvious excitation was short-lived as a bullet pierced his skull right in front of Tim. Tim saw the man's eyes widen suddenly in stupor just before he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Assassins were a daily occurrence after that, Tim having up to three attempts to his life in the span of twenty-four hours. Not that Tim expected anything else when he learned how much his head was worth. It seemed that if Ra's hadn't been behind the first attempt to his life, then it had given him an idea. 

Weirdly enough, it seemed that all his attackers were taken down by the league's own agents before they could do any harm to him. It was as if Ra's was trying to eliminate all competition. But, Tim hardly understood why he had to be involved in that business.

It went on for weeks. Weeks spent worrying about an attack that may never come. Tim didn't understand why the league was stalling this much to finish the job. So he decided to finally act instead of waiting for assassins to attack again.

Without warning anyone of his intentions, Tim boarded a plane headed to Ra's latest known location. The probability that the man was still in a known base was very low, but Tim would try nonetheless. 

Tim hesitated once he landed. He didn't have much of a plan, beyond demanding an audience with Ra's. He could be killed as soon as he crossed the threshold, and none would be the wiser. Tim wondered if he had really been the smarter Robin once upon a time, sure didn't felt like it now.

Tim took a hesitant step out of the plane before steeling himself. Showing weakness would do him no good, the least he could do was appear confident.

Guards watched him climb up the stairs without a word, not showing any signs that they would try to stop him even going as far as opening the door for him, slightly bowing as he passed. Tim's face was blank, seeming emotionless, but he was freaking out. It was almost as if his arrival had been expected, awaited even.

The White Ghost himself came to greet Tim quickly. It was yet another one. Ra's had gone through a few in past years. None had last long since his son's death.

Tim was lead to a grand room where a man that on a throne. The first thought when Tim's eyes felt on him was that the man looked regal in his green robe.  The second he said aloud: "You're not Ra's Al Ghul." 

The man seemed familiar even if Tim couldn't pinpoint from where, but not the leader of the league Tim knew. Definitely too young, the pit never made Ra's rejuvenated that way. Could be that Ra's soul had been transferred to a new body. He really hoped not.

"Ra's Al Ghul is the title of the one leading the League of Assassins, which I am. The man that preceded me is dead. For good."

"Did you kill him?" The question was out of Tim's mouth before he could stop himself. But the man didn't seem offended by the accusation.

"I did. Grandfather wanted to use my body as a vessel for himself. I choose to take his empire instead. It was my birthright, after all."

"You are Talia's son." They hadn't been aware that the Al Ghul family had expended. Tim hoped that hadn't been done with just the idea to provide a new body to Ra's. That would be twisted and horrible for the guy to be born for that sole purpose. And despite the moral instilled by his mentor, Tim found it hard to condemn Ra's murder.

"And Bruce's. I think you know my father rather well."

"What?"

Tim was having a hard time processing that bit of information. The man didn't seem to be lying, but how could the 'greatest detective' have ignored that bit of information.

"I believe you did not come to talk of my lineage, Timothy. I would like to reiterate my apology for hurting you the first time we met."

"That was you?"

"I'm afraid that yes. I had just taken control of the league, and I wanted to consolidate my power by eliminating all that Grandfather had seen as potential successors. Thankfully I saw your mark before my mistake became irreparable. I see now that you are not a threat to my reign. I will never again cause you harm. And I doubt any other will after all that tried in the last few weeks and failed. The world must have gotten my message."

"I'm not quite sure I understand."

The man stood to cross most of the distance separating him from Tim, stopping only a few feet away. His face only showed determination as he took the hem of his clothes in his hands and started to divest.

"Ra's." Tim stammered out, not quite knowing how to refer to the man.

"You may call me Damian, habibi." 

Tim didn't react to the pet name, his eyes fixated on his mark adorning Damian's skin. Their soulmark.

Tim gaped inelegantly, short of words to express his emotion. He was beyond shocked. He hadn't given much thought to his mark in years. Not many had one, and finding one's match was rare as most people preferred to ignore it to make their own choices.

"I would like to offer you a place at my side to lead the league."

Tim was about to answer but Damian shushed him.

"Do not think of what the league had done so far, but what you could do with its many resources. Take your time to think about it. I will in Gotham in a few days, you can tell me your answer over a date."

Damian escorted back to his plan, bidding his goodbye to Tim with a single blossom of red salvia. A token of his intentions.

Tim was quite relieved that Damian didn't insist he stay longer. He had a lot to think about and some time alone would do him some good.

A true partner of Batman should have said no right away, but Tim saw all the possibilities, all the changes he could bring to the world with the league shaped to his image. The proposition was tempting and Tim was already making plans in his mind.

Tim wasn't quite sure what to make of Damian. The man's apparent desire to date, since he was not based on anything relevant. But Tim's love's life had been non-existent since Tam and he could admit that sometimes he got pretty lonely. He could even admit that Damian was easy on the eyes when he wasn't trying to kill him. It wouldn't hurt to go on a date. 

The only problems were Damian's role as the leader of a criminal organization that his family had often fought against. And that he was Bruce's son.

Tim rolled the flower between his fingers, a soft smile on his face. For once, he would take time to enjoy his life and worry later. He didn't have to tell anything to his mentor and let Damian deal with it when the time came. It sounded like a good plan.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

OCTOPATH AU???? :EYES:

*spins my chair to my computer

So I’m done with my things so let’s talk about it! Mainly about the character plots because the idea just came to me at 2 AM.

There’s going to be 2 groups for this au, one group is basically in the kingdom itself while the other is venturing towards the kingdom, eventually they do get to meet up and become one singular group.

This is going to be the first group, venturing towards the kingdom.

So let’s start off with George and Sapnap. George is the king of the kingdom we’re going to call...SMP because of course. Dream, George, and Sapnap are all best friends and Dream and Sapnap are the knight’s in shining armor who protect George. Eret is George’s next in line for the throne.The kingdom was flourishing, everyone is happy, and nothing seems to be wrong.

That all changed when all of a sudden the castle was attacked by mercenaries. The knight’s tried to fight them off as best as they can but it was too much. George had to flee and Sapnap went with him. Dream was separated from the other two. Eret is also separated but prompted to hide in the capital itself.

So Sapnap and George are on the run and are looking to reclaim George’s throne after receiving news that someone has been crowned king. They don’t know who it is but rumors has it that they are cruel and seemed to be obsessed with power. (Wink wink, I am totally not referring to the Green Man.)

Quackity is basically someone who is a Bard/Merchant who just wanders around and he just tries to get by. Whether most of the things he does is not exactly legal is his own business and no one else’s. He still cracks jokes and stuff but he does build his walls higher when it comes to trust and friends due to bad memories with Schlatt.

So he is wandering around when he just, finds Sapnap and George fighting off some bandits and he helps because, oh hey maybe he’ll get some free stuff. Sapnap and George thank him and Sapnap impulsively asks if he can help him because George used to be a king and if Quackity helps then they’ll reward Quackity greatly.

Quackity does not trust this, the last person he trusted in authority just ruined everything he cared about (L’Manberg’s flag in flames. The revolution failing. Schlatt calling him Flatty Patty and laughing as he runs away) but he is running low on supplies so he helps them reluctantly. 

Karl on the meanwhile joins the group after some failed quests to get recognized and such. He craves attention and he is sick of being ignored by everyone. He is striving to be a knight but he isn’t exactly the best at combat. 

Then he hears about this group and a former king trying to regain his crown in there. He practically begs the three of them to let him join and prove his worth. He needs to show that everyone is wrong and that he is important enough to be in history.

Sapnap objects to this but Quackity and George are cool with it, with George pointing out that they need as much allies as they can. Sapnap then goes and just trains Karl and whoops, now he’s attached to him. How did that happen?

(It getting long so I’m going to put group 2 on the bottom)

Eret in the kingdom is just trying to figure out who went and sent those mercenaries against them. They know that there isn’t much enemies they know about and they just go and sneak around to try to find clues on how this happened. They have no idea who the current king is as they are a recluse but they did make the kingdom basically become a police state. They also do not know if George made it out alive.

They soon gathers enough info to find out about somebody named JSchlatt, the president of Manberg. The info doesn’t tell him much but it does say something about a deal being made by the current king. So off they go to find people who knew of Schlatt and the first person they find is Fundy.

Fundy is looking for Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur. He knows that Tommy and Tubbo has fled somewhere into the capital but Wilbur could be anywhere. Eret tries to recruit him due to them seeing how he handled the guards in the square but Fundy declines it. Fundy remembers Eret, he remembers how they betrayed L’Manberg

So Eret went and used his former royal status and struck a deal saying that if Fundy helps Eret find the guy who did this and helps reclaim the kingdom, that they will provide resources to help him find Wilbur. It’s something Fundy wants and it isn’t honestly not that bad. They have to reunite to fight a bigger bad and then they can go back to being enemies after this.

So Fundy agrees to this and Eret has now one person added to their group. Fundy however, does not go and say anything about the state of Manberg and the revolution because at the moment, these two kingdoms are enemies and they absolutely hate each other.

Last thing they need is for the king of the SMP to go and reabsorb L’Manberg back into the kingdom.

Niki then joins the group after Fundy recognizes her and they reunite and she is full on ready to get L’Manerg back. She told Fundy that the country really has went downhill ever since the revolution failed and that everyone is pretty much suffering there. 

She hid in the capital of the SMP kingdom thinking it is a safe place to just regroup and figure out what to do next only to find out that it has become a police state after the dethroning of George.

Eret welcomes her and Fundy and Niki are both surprised because, “Aren’t the SMP and Manberg supposed to be enemies?” And Eret says yes, they are enemies, but George was actually considering on having the two of them become allies due to the respect he has after seeing them fight and because of the fact that they really wanted to make amends with L’Manberg.

Fundy and Niki actually believes them because they saw how Eret is really trying to change and such. So they believe in them and trust them.

Mr TommyInnit then joins and after a few months as DepressedInnit missing Tubbo and Wilbur and all of his friends, he is absolutely thrilled to see Fundy and Niki again. He is at first a bit peeved that Eret is there but after some time he does trust Eret again.

Tommy explains that Tubbo went and disappeared one day and Tommy couldn’t go look for him ever since the increased security of the capital. Everyone just sees this sad child crying about how he feels like Tubbo’s disappearance is his fault and just comforts him.

Tommy then after some thinking decides to join the group and god it is nice to be around people again.

Group 1 is just basically an arsonist, a shitposting duck-hybrid bard, a wannabe hero, and a former king who does not set his alarm clock right. 

Group 2 is basically a badass baker, a furry, an angry child, and a bisexual king.

Both of these groups become found family and are disasters. And when they meet up, they become more of a family and bigger disasters. They have braincells but they don’t use it most of the time.

I’m going to flesh out the final bosses for each of the characters but some may be shared due to the fact that Karl and Niki has no rivals that I can think of. Anyways this post got long. Send me some late 7:00 asks about the au if you want.

[gothamcitystories]

Submitted by Al Reinman;

Transcribed by Carter Albrecht

Like most GC natives, I hate this damned place in a special way only a Gothamite can. I grew up here. It’s gross, smells like a tire fire, the rich live in their high towers looking down on us all, I can’t walk to the corner to pickup a pack of smokes after dark, unless I’m packing at least my mag light(we’ll get to that), and we’ve got a new freakshow causing chaos every week. Don’t even get me started on the public transportation.

That being said, Gotham is MY town, y’know? Some out-of-towner says any of what I just said, I’m as likely as any Gothamite to knock their teeth in. See, I love this town as much as I hate it, in that special way only a Gothamite can. It’s hard to explain that to someone who isn’t from here.

So anyways, I work in sanitation. It’s not bad work, all thing considered. I do third shift tunnel walking. It’s a newer thing. See, after that Rat-King business, when that guy was kidnapped homeless people and forcing them to build something or other in the sewers, few years back, the city assigned Sani workers to do regular patrols to make sure nothing hinky is going on, y’know, like wannabe gangsters or shit like that.

Most of the guys hate tunnel walks. And I mean, that’s fair, there’s more of a chance to run into that big ass crocodile guy, or any of the other bozo’s Arkham can’t seem to keep ahold of. Of course I never saw the guy. Never saw much of anything, except a few teenagers playing thug. So I volunteer to do most of the walks. Got me one of those big metal flashlights, my mag, because you can bust a skull with those things, if you need to. I also have a piece, but we’re not supposed to carry while we’re on the job, so I usually don’t, unless one of the loonies is loose. This wasn’t one of those time, just so you know.

It was this past Halloween. I was kinda pissed because one of my buds was playing a show at The Hole, that dive over on Park. Well, I clocked in, and my super asked if anyone wanted to take the Walks tonight. I figured eight hours strolling was as good as I was going to get. My hand shot up, and into the tunnels I went. We’re not supposed to, but I like listening to podcasts while I walk. Vicki Vale’s Gotham Report is a favorite of mine. So I pop a headphone in, only one, I’m not stupid, and I start off into the dark.

Tons of concrete and steel kills any kind of cell signal, so I download my podcasts before I head down. This episode was an exciting one for me, because she was talking about an old Gotham legend. So if you grew up in GC, you were probably raised on stories about Solomon Grundy, who would emerge from the swamps to the north to gobble up kids who misbehave. Well, if you’re old enough. I hear kids nowadays are treated to threats of the Batman coming through their windows. Not sure which is a worse prospect.

Anyways Vale goes into the founding of Gotham, and the Five Families. Every kid learns about them in grade school, Alan Wayne, Theodore Cobblepot, Edward Elliot, Jeremiah Arkham, and Ezekiel Kane.

So story goes that the founders had contracted a cousin of Wayne, a guy by the name of Cyrus Gold. Gold was a merchant of some influence. The stories vary on the why, and the how, but some how, Gold was murdered, and his body dumped in that section of marshlands to the north, Slaughter Swamp.

So according to Vale, Theodore Cobblepot was into shady stuff way back when, and he had his eyes on Gold’s businesses. Old Theo was a cold dude from reports. His daughter, Millie Jane, she was fond of nursery rhymes, so old Theo would make men who crossed him recite them from memory before he wacked them. So Gold gets walked out to Slaughter Swamp. He’s blindfolded, and he’s reciting that old one, Solomon Grundy. Y’know, born on a Monday, etcetera etcetera. Theo pops him, plants him, absorbs his business.

Jump forward. The urban legend starts up, based on that version of the story. Kids say that if you say the rhyme in Slaughter Swamp on Halloween night, he’ll rise from the swamp and get you. You know how all those old stories, they never say what the ghosty or ghouly is gonna do, just that he’ll get you. I remember taking my first girlfriend out to Slaughter Swamp to summon Solomon Grundy. Lots of teens did it when I was in school, but no one I knew ever saw him.

Anyways, the route I took that night had an old disused outfall into Slaughter Swamp. Bruce had it redirected when he took over Wayne Enterprises a few years back, but the outfall is still open, and it’s a good spot to stop and have a smoke, about halfway through the route, so when I got there, I stepped out and had me a smoke.

I was on the phone with this girl I’d been chatting with, she does maintenance on the electricals running under the city, so we see each other at work sometimes. Anyways, I made this joke about being in Slaughter, and trying to summon Grundy. Just being funny, y’know. She’s loving it. She’s a Gotham Girl herself, but she never got taken out to Slaughter, but she’s egging me on, so I go for it.

It’s a simple rhyme:

“Solomon Grundy,

Born on a Monday,

Christened on Tuesday,

Married on Wednesday,

Took ill on Thursday,

Grew worse on Friday,

Died on Saturday,

Buried on Sunday,

That was the end,

Of Solomon Grundy.”

I wait. I say nothing, she says nothing. I’m hoping to build the tension and scream, give her a scare, y’know? Only, about the time I’m planning on screaming, my mag goes dead, so does my phone. Now the phone doesn’t surprise me. I carry a portable power bank for that, but with the concrete, you don’t get a lot of signal, so it doesn’t do much good, so I hadn’t hooked it up to charge. But the mag? Those batteries were brand new at the start of the shift. I always change my batteries before I go into the tunnels. Anyone who works underground will tell you there’s nothing more important than your light, y’know? And I always carry plenty of spares. Nobody wants to be down there in the dark. I always, ALWAYS put new batteries in before I start my shift.

There on the outfall, you get a bit of moonlight. More than in the tunnels. I’ll admit, I was spooked a bit, I should’ve had more than a few hours left on those batteries. So I was kinda rushing to get the old ones out and a spare pare in, and yeah, I let the old ones roll off into the swamp. I mean yeah, I was jumpy, but I wasn’t jumping at shadows, y’know? I’m a GC native. We’re tough stock, and hard to actually scare. Like really scare, y’know?

So the batteries roll off the concrete block in front of the outfall. Plop plop, into the swamp. Suddenly it gets real quiet. I mean dead quit. The owls, y’know, the ones on that preserve out there? Quiet. Bugs and night birds? Quiet. Hell, I don’t think I was even breathing, y’know? Just felt real tense. Your eyes play tricks on you at night. In the dark, you see things different, and out by the outfall it’s real dark, forest dark, y’know? Even with the super moon we had on Halloween this year, it was stupid, mind tricking dark out there. But I swear to you, there was fog rising from the swamp. And it wasn’t there before my light went out. Thick shit too.

Then I heard the splash. Like something big coming out of the water. I’ll admit that I was spooked. But I didn’t run or nothing. My eyes were adjusting to the dark, enough to make out the big shape moving towards me. I managed to fumble the new batteries into the mag about the time I asked:

“Who’s there?”

Thinking I’d stumbled on some teens playing a prank, y’know.

I got my light on right before the thing responded. Damn thing must have been nine foot tall, and wide as a truck. Dressed in the ragged, rotten remains of a suit. Sonovabitch looked like a jacked albino Frankenstein, like all rotted, deep sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, lumbering like it had a bad leg, skin and hair were bleach white, and the fingernails and teeth were all yellow and sick looking. And it spoke. Sounded about like rocks rubbing together. The thing lumbered towards me, hands outstretched, reaching as if to grab me, it rasped:

“Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday.”

I booked. I mean, I think it took me fifteen minutes to reach city limits? And I didn’t go back underground for months. It took me awhile to work up the nerve, y’know? But I’ve been thinking about it, and all the stories say Grundy only comes out on Halloween, right? So I should be fine as long as I’m not down there by Slaughter Swamp on Halloween, right? I should be fine.

Right?

[spookyceph]

I posted all my ShigaDabi Week entries on Ao3, so now it's time to catch up here.

Day 4 | Trust

Summary: Tomura and the League arrive at Deika City to face Re-Destro. But first, Dabi has some explaining to do.

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: Swearing, mild blood

Burn a Bridge, Build a Raft

“This is the place, huh? Not too big, not too small.”

Tomura knew he should look down the hill and see whether Spinner’s assessment of Deika City measured up. After all, it had been his decision to come here, both to rescue Giran and end the stalemate with Gigantomachia. If the others wound up dead, crushed by Sensei’s still-loyal servant or picked off by these Meta Liberation Losers, it would be because they’d followed him.

Well. Except for one.

“Man…why did I get dragged into this?” Wincing, Dabi clasped a hand to the back of his neck.

Though Tomura hadn’t seen him since he’d fucked off to test high-end nomus almost two months—two shittygruelingmiserablegoddamnedlonely months—ago he noticed something was amiss immediately. Details no one else would pick up on because, frankly, no one else had been waiting six weeks to receive word—just one little I’m alive, or sorry, or didn’t mean to abandon you lol—from the stapled sack of shit. Details like how flushed his unscarred skin looked. The amount of dust clinging to his coat. How his balance wavered, one boot almost tangling with the other, as he barely sidestepped Twice’s measuring tape while being hollered at for his callous attitude toward Giran’s plight. The fact he’d upset Jin to begin with proved the whole situation had gone sideways.

No one else noticed. But no one else knew Dabi like he did.

“Stop.” Tomura’s voice cracked through the air like a rifle shot. Everybody froze, gazes leaping to him. Everybody but one.

“Compress,” he continued, losing some of his volume but none of his command.

The magician snapped to attention, hastily securing his mask back over his face. “Er, yes?”

Not taking his eyes from Dabi, Tomura held out one hand. “Water.”

“Ah! Oh. Of course.” Compress didn’t even attempt to hide the relief in his voice at being off the hook. Taking a marble from one of his coat’s many pockets, he converted it back into their canteen and passed it over.

With his empty hand, he pointed to Dabi, then over at the line of trees marking the forest border. “You. Go sit.”

“Oooo,” crowed Toga. “Someone’s in trouble…”

Dabi blinked, switching a bewildered stare between her and Tomura’s finger. Some sense of meaning must’ve sunk in because, eventually, a dent appeared in the middle of his eyebrows and he plodded his way toward the spot indicated.

No one dared utter a word when Tomura stalked after him.

Dabi halted at the first tree he came to, gawking up at it like he’d never seen such a thing before. He didn’t even register Tomura holding a hand up near his cheek. Scalding heat rolled off scarred and unmarked skin alike, as suspected.

“Goddamn it, you’re burning up. Take your coat off.”

Again, like a deer in headlights. The already brilliant blue of Dabi’s eyes shone brighter still—practically incandescent. Feverish. Unfocused. Resisting the urge to just Decay the damn thing right off him, Tomura pushed the heavy garment from his wayward partner’s shoulders and helped him shrug free of it. His fingers showed blister-red after handling the leather; no doubt touching any of the metal reinforcing the sleeves would’ve earned a first- or even second-degree burn. He dropped the coat to the leaf-littered ground.

“Sit.”

This command proved easier to grasp. With no hint of his usual poise, Dabi plopped down, crumpling against the tree’s trunk. Tomura knelt beside him and held out the canteen.

“Drink.”

Slowly, as if afraid the container might bite, Dabi lifted it to his lips and sipped. Instinct took over at that point. Eyes going wide, then squeezing shut, he tilted his head back and guzzled the rest. Panting, he took a moment to catch his breath. When he reopened his eyes, clarity and personality had returned, if with weariness tagging along behind.

“Hey, mophead.”

Two words, spoken in that familiar, quiet, and currently cracked voice, nearly accomplished what a month and a half of constant fighting and sleep deprivation hadn’t. Tomura didn’t break, though. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t make a sound. He didn’t reduce the tree to splinters by smashing Dabi’s skull through it. He didn’t Decay the sheepish smile off his (stupid handsome fuckinghatehimsomuch) face. Neither did he give in to the impulse to collapse into the scarred arms that would’ve caught him and never let go. He couldn’t afford to. Every iota of rage and pain and razor-edged glee needed to be reserved for whatever Re-Destro had waiting for them at the bottom of the hill. To expend any of it now could cost him or the rest of the League their lives. So, Tomura corralled his stampeding emotions with a temporary fence of practicality.

“Can you fight?” His tone came out blander than stale bread.

Dabi’s smile dwindled. He scanned Tomura’s face for any sign that his presence meant more than an extra pair of boots on the ground. Catching none, he took a long inhale and settled into tight-lipped resignation.

“Yeah. Got a little piss and vinegar left in me. What’re we up against?”

“An army of deluded morons. The usual. We’ll need to keep them distracted for about an hour and a half.”

“What happens after the clock runs down?”

“Gigantomachia shows up and proves their philosophy is a pile of shit like everyone else’s.”

That dropped Dabi’s jaw. “You’re still fighting that thing?”

“What’d you think we were doing out in the middle of nowhere? Meditating and earning merit?” Tomura snapped before cursing himself. The sneaky bastard had always had a knack for poking his emotional pressure points—for getting him to do exactly what he swore he wouldn’t. Collecting himself, he wiped his expression clean again.

“Are you going to be any use here or do you need to sit this out?”

Blue eyes searched for cracks in Tomura’s resolve. As perverse luck would have it, he noticed the tracks of rusty red smeared down Dabi’s cheeks at that moment. They’d seeped like tears from the drooping scars that made up his lower lids. More crusted the staples in his chin and near the hinges of his jaw. Tomura’s stomach writhed like a dying animal. What the fuck had Ujiko been making him do? Had he been testing the nomu by fighting the damn things?

As if reading his thoughts, Dabi touched the bloody streaks. “Whatever you need me to do, consider it done.” A pause. No—a hesitation. “I just have a couple of things to say first. If you, uh, want to hear them.”

This asshole…Tomura had to curl his hands into fists to keep from clawing at his neck. Telling him to shove it sideways with no lube would be satisfying in the present, but Tomura knew, just like Dabi did—just like he’d counted on—the mystery would turn into a distraction he couldn’t allow. Worse, if one of them survived this battle and the other didn’t…He yanked his focus back before his imagination could drag it down into that abyss. The exasperation in his sigh didn’t need to be exaggerated.

“Fine. Out with it.” He wouldn’t go away with any regrets—let Dabi carry them all if he wanted.

“Okay. First item is my family name. It’s Todoroki.”

Every calculated reaction he had lined up imploded, leaving Tomura’s mind a void.

A grim little smile spread across Dabi’s face. “You didn’t know. I’m surprised.”

Tomura shook his head to get the gears turning again. “I…suspected. After you told me your given name. Especially watching how you acted after All Might retired.” Endeavor’s rise to the number one spot on the hero rankings and Dabi’s new habit of leaving the charred corpses of low-level villains littered around the city had started too close to each other to be coincidence. A powerful fire quirk…blue eyes in the family…an older son who vanished from the news feeds abruptly…no, it hadn’t been difficult to fit the pieces together at all once he’d realized they were there in the first place.

“Why tell me this?” Tomura asked, tone teetering between genuinely curious and accusatory. “Why now?”

That smile still pulling on the seams in his skin, Dabi stared down at his hands resting in his lap. “Just wanted you to know why I really stayed behind with Ujiko, I guess. When I saw I’d be useless against that giant, I figured it’d be an opportunity to handle my personal shit. I could look for a way to take out Endeavor without being a burden on you and the others. Go figure, I failed big time.

“Oh, sure, me and dear old Dad went toe to toe when I took the first high-end nomu out for a test run, like I said I would. But then that wannabe recruit I was looking into kind of fucked me over. And then Miruko showed up. And I was out there all alone, with no one to back me up, just how I’d wanted it.” A strangled laugh hiccoughed out of him. “So, Ujiko had to bail me out in the end. I completely overheated during the fight. My brain was so fried I even forgot the damn high-end on the field. If you hadn’t had the doc send me out here, he probably would’ve chopped me up and fed me to the rest of his pet projects. Anyway…I told you all that to tell you this.”

Dabi drew a long, shuddering breath and looked up square at Tomura. “I was wrong. I should’ve trusted you. The others too. I should’ve trusted that you would’ve helped me if I’d asked. That you’d want to. I’m sorry. I’m a reckless dick. And I didn’t leave because of you.” Closing his eyes, he let his head thump back against the tree and swallowed hard. “Just didn’t want to cash in my chips with you maybe thinking that was the case.”

Verbally eviscerating him for the sheer volume of his idiocy—take down Endeavor alone, didn’t want to be a burden, overheated to the point of collapse—should have been Tomura’s first instinct. However, it found itself blocked off before it even arose by one confession that kept echoing in his head.

I didn’t leave because of you.

The volatile energy buzzing in Tomura’s bones settled and faded out. Rather than leaving him depleted, it gave way for a new source of strength to rush in and replace it. One that set something in him right, like a dislocated joint popped back into place. The spot was still sore, still tender, but once aligned it made him whole and clear and sure the fight waiting for him was already his.

Reaching out with ring and pinky safely tucked against his palm, Tomura gripped Dabi by the chin. Those remarkable eyes fluttered open, startled but fixed solidly on him.

“It’d be easy for you then, wouldn’t it?” Tomura’s voice came out low and vicious, his dirty, broken nails digging into leathery scar tissue. “To just die here and not have to back up any of the shit you said? But you’re not going to get that luxury. I won’t allow it. You’re going to live just so I can have the pleasure of watching you beg and plead and grovel to earn my trust again. Understand?”

The tiny shiver that ran through Dabi, and the flicker of tongue over his bottom lip spawned a new reason to live that tied with Grind Re-Destro into the dirt for first. Patchwork hands landed on his forearm, petting and tickling. The smug bastard even dared to smile. “Perfectly, boss.”

“Good.” And then, because he was dangerously close to kissing him, or stripping him naked with his teeth, or something else otherwise unbecoming of the next King of Villainy, Tomura stood and added, “You look like hammered crap, by the way.” The hand that had clutched Dabi’s chin switched to offering him help up.

The smile sprawled into a crooked grin as the gesture was accepted. Dabi picked a bit of dead leaf from the hopeless mess of Tomura’s hair before tucking the locks behind his ear. “And you’re beautiful, as always.”

He snorted and tried to sneer. Really, he did. “Lying sack of shit.”

Any further attempts at flirting were cut short by an exclamation from Toga.

“Someone’s coming!”

After a final squeeze, Tomura let go of Dabi’s hand. For the first time in too long, they went to meet whatever came their way gladly, head-on, and, more important, together.

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Final Run” [ 2.12 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

CURTAIN CALL – The complications surrounding Lucas’s presence at Adams reach a climactic pitch. Jack makes one last desperate maneuver. Riley and Isadora orchestrate an opposition, but true help comes from an unlikely ally. Someone says goodbye to AAA.

72 Minutes (21K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← We’ll Be the Stars ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ The Sun Will Rise → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

The bustling streets of Manhattan, familiar as we’ve come to know them over the last two seasons. It’s the calm tranquility of Central Park; the humble exterior of Chubbie’s diner. The streets surrounding Adams Academy for the Arts, less traffic than usual on a Monday morning.

It’s home, for all intents and purposes. It’s the place we’ve come to know as familiar, as safe, a place to curl up and stay for a while. Yet there’s an uncertainty in the air, a tension that can’t be named but that permeates every formerly comfortable atmosphere. The sounds of the city are muted, feeling distant and far away.

It’s home, but it’s no longer safe. There’s a threat, imminent, and the way things are as we know them might be destined to come crashing down.

Jack, loudly: This is wrong!

INT. SCHOOL BOARD OFFICE - DAY

JACK HUNTER is pacing the office of EVELYN RAND, in a heated debate with another school board member. This is JEFFERSON DAVIS GRAHAM, an older, old-fashioned type who plays by a dated playbook. He seems unmoved as Jack goes head-to-head with him, remaining neutral in a way that demonstrates poise but also lack of compassion. It’s easy to be level-headed, because he simply doesn’t care about the details.

They’re arguing fiercely about the Bradford case, now a school board issue since it’s gone public. Evelyn listens carefully to both sides, seated at her desk and processing the arguments. It’s hard to tell what way she’s leaning -- one of her great strengths as head school board member.

As far as Graham sees it, this issue is a mess for no reason with a simple solution -- remove the problematic entity, give the paying student the spot. What issues could possibly arise from more money being poured into a school? Besides, if it gets rid of a troublemaker, then even better.

But Jack fires back that it’s not about money. It’s the principle of the thing. What they do in this situation will set a precedent for the rest of Adam’s existence as a private institution.

Graham thinks Jack is being ridiculous, which is odd considering he’s always admired his level head and authoritarian approach. This whole thing is particularly ironic, given the student who ended up at the center of this case.

Jack: Ironic? I fail to see what’s so --

Graham: You used to hate this boy, Jackson! You think I don’t recall how often you’d come into this building seeking advice or just looking for a place to lament how you were saddled with this Lucas James Friar?

Jack grimaces, looking away. Graham continues on, making his point.

Graham: When you allowed this delinquent into your school in the first place --

Jack: He is not a delinquent --

Graham: It was only after much debate and counsel from the people in this directorate, including yours truly. And do you remember what I told you then, Jackson?

Jack, quietly: That’s not what this is about.

Graham: I told you don’t bother. So he’s a sob story -- there are ten kids just like him on every block in this city. You take him in, you take on that burden, then you’ll have to deal with it. And boy, did you. The way you used to complain --

Jack: That’s not what this is about!

Graham: So guess what, this should be good news! You’ve been given a golden opportunity to turn back the clock, to take the advice of your elders and make the smart decision. Let them take the problem off your hands, take the money, and move on!

Jack snaps that it’s not about what choices he made three years ago. This is an issue of integrity, and it’s about the students above all else. What does it say if a wannabe student with a huge paycheck can just oust another student? That’s not how Jack wants his school to be run, regardless of how much money it brings into their pockets.

Evelyn finally speaks, cutting both gentlemen off. She claims they’ll have plenty of time to debate this on the counsel floor -- she’s taking the decision out of Jack’s hands. Considering the matter has gone egregiously public and is causing more trouble than it should, the school board will vote on the issue instead.

Jack does not seem pleased by this development. Graham agrees, nodding curtly and allowing himself out. Evelyn grows a bit more sympathetic, expressing to Jack that he still has the chance to make his case. He just needs to make sure it’s good enough to get the right amount of people on his side.

Jack, determined: I will.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Love Runs Out” as performed by OneRepublic || Performed by Jack Hunter

The heavy instrumental opening settles upon us, accenting Jack’s exit from the office. Evelyn watches him go, expression still difficult to discern.

EXT. SCHOOL BOARD BUILDING - DAY

Jack emerges from the building, taking a deep breath. Then he launches into the opening verse, jogging his way down the steps. He’s walking with purpose, not wasting a second as the clock ticks down on Lucas’s fate at AAA -- and the fate of the school itself.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - MONTAGE - DAY

Then Jack is truly on the move. A montage of transitions shows him making his way all around town, doing small press interviews and meeting with school board members for lunch or coffee. He’s putting in favors wherever he can, making his case, shaking hands and running up and down the island to gain favor.

Any bit of traction he can, every little bit helps.

On the bridge, Jack comes to a slow stop outside one of the buildings in the financial district. He tries to catch his breath, distracted by the newspapers on display at a local stand.

The Bradford case is still there, front page news. The Bradfords themselves have now taken up a bulk of the page space, but that school portrait of Lucas is still tucked amidst the story. It seems to stare at Jack, reminding him of everything he’s fighting for. The integrity of it all, yes -- but the personal reasons, too.

So Jack takes off again. Another whirlwind of meetings, of sleepless nights, running and running himself into the ground.

He’s going to take this case down, if it’s the last thing he does. He’s going to keep Lucas at AAA -- or else die trying.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Class is assembled for the final week, all of the A class except Lucas present. HARPER BURGESS and SHAWN HUNTER have taken front and center, leading a discussion about what this final week is going to look like.

First things first -- the elephant in the room. Most of them have read the Friar-Bradford story for themselves now, and Harper and Shawn give them all the information they have at present. This includes the development about the school board getting involved -- more or less, they will be holding a “trial” at the end of the week to determine whether Lucas will be asked to leave the school in the midst of this “scandal.”

The class is not happy to hear this news. RILEY MATTHEWS is stunned, unable to believe it. The techies are downright livid, considering one of their own is on the chopping block -- and their leader at that.

Nate: This is bullshit!

Shawn: I’m not going to argue with you on that.

Dave, dumbstruck: They can’t just take Lucas away.

Most of the performers agree this whole thing is stupid, and Maya acutely points out the grander question that permeates this case.

Maya: So, what? Can anybody just take our spot if they bid enough and dig up enough dirt? What does this mean for us?

A bit of a selfish perspective, but valid. Harper states it’s a bit more complicated than that, but how all of this will affect how AAA operates remains to be seen. One thing is certain, though -- whatever happens will set a true precedent for years to come.

That aside, Shawn explains that all of this is part of the reason they’re opting to do solo, private performances for final projects this year. They know there’s a lot going on, and a one-on-one, low-stress environment for a final performance feels like the appropriate move. They can sign up on the sheet on Harper’s desk.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is marching through the halls, teeth grit and eyes blazing. She tries her best to ignore the chatter of other students as she goes, overhearing bits and pieces of their commentary on the Lucas situation.

No one has seen him since the trial element broke, and many of them figure he just won’t ever come back. He hates it here anyway, and the case the opposition can build against him is so easy to make. A few students even say good riddance, not caring about the implications either way.

Isadora forces herself not to engage, continuing her journey across the school.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

She arrives in the office, demanding that ERIC MATTHEWS help her. She wants to know what she can do in regards to the case against Lucas. Anything. She’ll do anything.

Unfortunately -- and it truly seems to pain Eric to say it, although he hardly seemed surprised when Isadora spoke -- there’s not much they can do.

Isadora: See, you’re always saying that. Why are you always saying that?

Eric: Isa, believe me, I understand where you’re coming from. Do you think that if I knew a way to fix this situation, I would be sitting here twiddling my thumbs? If it could help Lucas, and Jack --

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. He pulls it back together, Isadora backing off a bit in terms of her intensity. This isn’t Eric’s fault, and she knows that. The last thing they need is to start turning on one another.

For now, this is something they just have to let the adults handle, and Eric can vouch that Jack is trying his damnedest. But as Isadora points out…

Isadora: No offense, but when have adults in power ever done anything right?

Fair… fair. Eric shrugs, wishing he could say something more constructive. But for now…

Isadora huffs, storming out.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are also on the move, racing their way through the auditorium. They’re calling for Lucas as they go, refusing to sit idly by and wait for him to show up and searching wildly for him instead.

They sprint their way up the stairs to the booth when they don’t find him anywhere else, Dylan taking the steps two at a time.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Dylan launches himself into the space first.

Dylan: Lucas? [ jogging further in ] Lucas!

Asher rushes in after him, allowing him to look deeper in the space. But there’s not much to investigate, and it’s more than clear Lucas isn’t present. Asher takes to searching the drawers and storage spaces instead, looking not for Lucas himself but rather his belongings.

He grows more worried the more he digs around. All of Lucas’s usual things are gone -- his snacks aren’t in the drawers, his supplies aren’t on the shelves.

Dylan: He’s not here. [ nervously ] Ash, he’s not here.

Asher: None of his stuff is here either.

Asher slams the drawer shut, getting to his feet and running a hand through his hair. Dylan looks at him sadly, dread washing over them.

Dylan: Do you… I mean, do you think he already -- ?

What? No. No. Lucas wouldn’t go without saying goodbye… but the expression on Asher’s face is just uncertain enough to convey real concern. The possibility hangs in the room, dominating their reality for a heavy moment.

Lucas, off-screen: What are you guys doing in here?

Dylan’s eyes widen, looking towards the door. Asher whips around to find LUCAS JAMES FRIAR, standing there with his backpack and eyeing them as if they’re the odd ones in this situation. Like nothing is out of the ordinary.

But it is. It is, and Dylan sprints past Asher to barrel Lucas with a hug. He’s surprised by the sense of urgency, awkwardly patting Dylan on the back until he lets him go.

Asher: Are you okay? Harper told us about the school board thing in class.

Lucas: Oh. Glad that’s spreading like the plague.

Dylan: What do you want us to do? What’s the game plan?

Lucas, plainly: Nothing. There is no game plan.

For what it’s worth, Lucas is acting very calm about this whole ordeal. He idly finishes collecting the sole remainder of his things, putting them in his backpack. Only that fact doesn’t feel comforting -- in fact, it adds a sense of uneasiness.

Dylan and Asher exchange worried looks, then Asher asks what’s going on. They need to brainstorm, they need to discuss. If they put their heads together --

Lucas: There’s nothing to discuss. [ matter-of-factly ] I’m leaving Triple A.

Just like that. No fanfare, no fight. Lucas has already accepted it, assuming it’s the new reality.

Dylan and Asher stare at him, dumbfounded. They stay frozen as Lucas scoots past them without another word.  Their fearless head technician, scrappy and proud and always willing to fight when it truly matters, has put up the white flag.

He’s surrendered, no more fight left to give.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley storms into Jack’s office. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, all composure and demure persona shot to hell. She fiercely claims there is no way they can remove Lucas from Adams.

Riley: It goes against just about every ethical principle, for one -- and what makes this Bradford girl so damn special that she can just swoop in and take someone else’s spot? And why? Just because she can throw money at it?

Jack: I know.

Riley: This place wouldn’t run without Lucas. We all know it. He is the backbone of the techies, and he contributes more tangible things to this school than probably the entire performer class combined.

Jack: Riley, I know that.

Riley, hysterical: He belongs here just as much as any of the rest of us. This is his home! He doesn’t deserve to -- he matters!

Jack agrees with her -- obviously, he does. And he’s doing absolutely everything he can, but that’s not enough to placate Riley. Not when the stakes are so high, and they’ve proven time and time again that adults can’t be trusted to do anything.

Riley: Oh, you’re going to handle it? The same way you handled the AAAC? Or the Into the Woods vandal, or the blatant abuse --

Riley’s voice cracks, on the edge of tears. She forces herself to keep it together, gripping the back of the chair across from Jack’s desk and dipping her head down. Jack takes the hits, unable to argue back and honestly not sure he wants to. Riley is right, after all. All of her concerns are his concerns, too -- that he’s not going to be able to fix it.

That he’s going to fail again, in a moment when it really matters.

She takes a deep breath, searching for an alternative where there are none. Grasping at straws, offering everything she has.

Riley, fragile: I’ll leave.

Jack: What?

Riley: Take my spot instead. I’ll go upstate and live with my mom, and Missy can take my spot. Then he can stay. [ tearful ] Right? I’ll go, and he -- he can stay. Take me instead.

Jack frowns, and that’s enough to signal that it’s not an option. A tear slips down Riley’s cheek, which she wipes at hastily. He explains that unfortunately, the board is going to take advantage of this public spotlight to set a precedent either way -- and that narrative has come to include Lucas, willingly or not. It’s not as simple as a spot anymore.

She’s just a student. There’s not much she can do.

Riley shakes her head, fumbling back and escaping from the room before she embarrasses herself by crying in front of him. Jack rises from his seat and considers going after her… but figures it’s better to leave her alone. He doesn’t know what else he could do anyway.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Riley pushes out of the main office and into the atrium, grateful that classes are in session and no one else is roaming the halls. Her eyes are still glassy, and it’s not going to take much to tip the scales.

In fact, all it really takes is a glance towards the main staircase. The same place she first locked eyes with Lucas what feels like forever ago -- when things felt so different. Before she really knew who he was, before anything made sense.

With Lucas, things make sense. And soon enough, these halls might very well exist without him. She can’t imagine a version of her world where he’s no longer in it.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “My Man” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Riley Matthews

Riley delicately starts the powerful ballad, encompassing the entirety of her emotional journey with Lucas in a few simple lines.

What’s the difference if I say “I’ll go away?” When I know I’ll come back on my knees someday

She cautiously starts making her way through the halls towards the auditorium, growing more emotional and passionate the deeper in she gets.

For whatever my man is, I am his Forever more.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Riley takes the soliloquy to the stage, nothing but her and a spotlight to accent the performance. It’s reminiscent of so many of her former power ballads (“Rose’s Turn,” “On My Own,” “She Used to Be Mine”), only this one hits with the rawness of pure certainty. There’s no more wondering what exactly she feels about Lucas James Friar, and there’s no point in trying to reason with it.

And the flashbacks interspersed throughout do a good job of supplementing her case. The rest of the performance up to the last 30 seconds is laced with memories, driving the point home just how deeply the two of them have come to not only know one another, but care about each other. Walking through the Christmas tree farm with the snow; Riley’s first dance lesson during culture swap week; playing basketball; their moment in the teacher’s lounge; handholds in 112 and 208; sitting together in the courtyard to escape everything else; finding refuge in the booth.

When she sings “when he takes me in his arms, the world is bright, alright” at the swell, of course focus shifts to the Jacobs gala kiss.

It’s all of it -- it’s everything. They’re not perfect, far from it, but Riley can’t fathom the possibility of letting it all go. She came to Adams specifically because she was looking for a place to belong, and she found it… just not in the school.

The last flashback is Lucas looking up at her after telling her who she is when she sings sounds like the real her, someone truly worth knowing, which then finds back to Riley belting out the last rendition of the chorus. The lyrics “for whatever my man is, I am his” are searing with conviction, Riley totally committed to their truth.

Eyes shimmering with tears, she rounds out the performance with a level of gusto the divas could only dream of. She’s out of breath when she finishes, almost collapsing back into tears.

Thankfully, something snaps her out of it. Applause.

Riley lifts her head, startled. Stunned that someone was listening -- terrified for a moment that it’s the same person who pulled this move almost two years ago.

But it’s not Lucas. Isadora finishes her claps as she makes her way down the aisle from the house entrance, telling Riley it was a nice performance. Definitely emotive, there’s no doubt about that.

Riley lets out a resounding sigh, dropping down to a sitting position on the edge of the stage. She wipes at her eyes, Isadora reaching the front of the auditorium. They share in silence for a moment, Isadora propping her elbows on the stage.

Isadora: It’s true, then? [ looking at her ] You really love him.

What a strange thing, to hear it stated so casually. Riley takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes glued to the seats. Then she nods, releasing it.

Riley: Yes. [ softly ] Can’t remember when I didn’t.

Isadora nods, absorbing this. Another pause.

Isadora: I wasn’t sure what to think. After the whole Confessions thing. I mean, I always thought you two were… I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, but I knew it was there. I’m not an idiot. [ a beat ] Then all of that happened, and all this doubt got thrown in the mix. I’m not good with doubt.

Riley closes her eyes, trying to stop the tears. She takes another calming breath. Isadora doesn’t interrupt her, continuing to speak and giving her the time she needs.

Isadora: But it still just seemed… I know Lucas thought it was true, because I think he wanted it to be. He gets so defensive, you know, has all these barriers up. These hoops he jumps through just to keep expectations low, to keep people a safe distance away. You broke through that, and then when things got complicated and doubt got involved he just… believed it. Because it was safer that way. If you never make yourself vulnerable, then you can never get hurt. I know that better than anybody. So I trusted his judgment, but… I don’t know. It didn’t seem right.

Isadora shakes her head, thoughtful.

Isadora: Now, I’m pretty convinced. [ with a dry laugh ] It sounds ridiculous, and I hate this school for making me this way, but it was in the vocals. You can’t sing about someone like that and not mean it.

True enough, especially on this show. The truth of the sentiment settles over them for a long moment. Riley huffs, shaking her head.

Riley: We can’t let them do this, Dora. We can’t let them… we have to do something.

Isadora locks eyes with her, matching her intensity. A whole new storm of potential brewing between them… perhaps this fight isn’t as hapless as it seems…

INT. AAA - LIBRARY - DAY

CHARLIE GARDNER is at a table in the corner, reading through the latest article on the case. He chews his thumbnail as he scrolls through it on his phone, obviously disturbed by it.

Farkle: You catch my cameo?

Charlie lifts his head, FARKLE MINKUS sliding into the seat across from him. He taps the phone, propping his feet up on another chair.

Farkle: I think it’s like eight paragraphs in or so. They mention current Adams junior Farkle Minkus, recently returned to the school after a stint in rehabilitation for attempted suicide. In their eyes, it’s just more proof of how the students at Adams aren’t cut out to handle it.

Charlie, disgusted: That’s sick.

Farkle: Maybe. But if I’m being honest with myself, sounds like exactly the kind of arguments I would’ve made only a year or so ago. Entitlement is one hell of a drug.

Charlie: You weren’t this bad. You weren’t like this.

Farkle: You’re so sweet, Chuck. But flattery will get us nowhere. At least in this situation.

Charlie frowns, putting his phone down. He chews his lip, wondering aloud what the hell they’re supposed to do about this. Everyone tells them they have no power, that it’s out of their hands, but that doesn’t seem right. There has to be something they can do.

Farkle considers, then shrugs. Far as he sees it, the fact that they care at all is the first step. Most people don’t even make it that far. After that... 

Farkle: My brother Ezekiel is really big on studying activism. His stance on it is pretty clear. Lots of people can claim they care, can claim they’re an activist, but few people actually do anything when they have the ability to do so -- even things as simple as speaking up. Now, I don’t know how much activism my brother really does, so he could just be the pot calling the kettle black. But I think his perspective makes sense. The most important thing anyone can do is to make the active choice to help someone else. Even when it might impact them adversely to do so -- especially then.

Food for thought. Not a solution to the issue at hand, but maybe it could be. They just have to find the way in which they can do something.

INT. AUDITION HALL - DAY

ZAY BABINEAUX is backstage, gearing up for his callback for the off-Broadway production. It’s of West Side Story, although with some fresh twists on it as to be expected for something small-scale and new.

Maya is there with him, hyping him up before he goes out on stage. She gives him a pep talk, although some of her points aren’t exactly helpful.

Maya: And if it doesn’t pan out, don’t think about the fact that we could also potentially all be kicked out of Triple A at the drop of a hat. Put that out of your mind.

Zay: … it wasn’t in my mind until now!

Oh. Well, whoops. Maya gives him one pat and a swift break a leg, zipping from backstage to go back in the audience. Zay grounds himself, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.

He marches onto the stage just as Maya returns to the house, sliding into a seat next to Isadora. Both of them give him encouraging smiles, the casting panel eyeing him interestedly.

Zay introduces himself, and explains that he’ll be auditioning with a routine to the Act II dance display, “Cool.” Once they’ve taken their notes, the creative team signals for him to begin whenever he’s ready.

He takes a deep breath, centering himself.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cool” as performed by West Side Story Original Cast Recording || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Dylan Orlando (feat. AAA Junior Techies)

When he opens his eyes again, he’s completely in character, taking on a harsher edge. The lights shift on the stage, reflecting the intensity of the number.

Zay: You wanna live in this lousy world?

Abruptly, the scene flips --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

To the AAA auditorium, where the techies are assembled. They’re brooding, the stage dark and stylistically lit. It feels like darkness around them for miles, reflecting their current state. The crew of them are bristling with energy, angry and frustrated and ready for action.

That is, except for Dylan. He’s upset too, certainly, but he knows that doing something reckless isn’t going to get them anywhere. He’s learned that the hard way -- and in the absence of their leader, he has to step up to keep everyone else from making a rash decision.

Dylan: Just play it cool.

Nate: I wanna get even!

Dylan: Get cool!

Dave: I wanna bust!

Dylan: Bust cool!

Asher: I wanna go --

Dylan holds a hand out, taking his boyfriend by the shoulder. Holding him back from going scrappy, as he so often does. They lock eyes, Dylan’s gaze urging him to stay calm.

Dylan: Go cool!

The number stays split between the techies and Zay’s audition, transitioning effortlessly back and forth. While Zay’s dancing is of course a highlight, the most impressive aspect is the techie crew’s range. They’re truly channeling the same energy of the original number, a gang of some sorts fuming after the loss of their de facto leader and scrambling to reorganize.

In the section after the first minute, Dylan is going around keeping everyone from losing their cool. He tells Nate to cool it first when he kicks at one of the set pieces on display, then has to talk Dave down when he starts to grow too angry (“Cool it, Davie, cool it, cool it…”). Dave laughs it off, as if it’s nothing… and then he kicks over the stack of acting blocks, descending into delirious, heartbroken laughter (“Pow!”). Jade rushes over to pull him back from doing any more damage, basically having to restrain him.

As the song escalates into the dance break it’s famous for, the number becomes more evenly split between the two sets. It’s easy to forget how competent and talented the techies are as a group -- but they are. This performance is “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” but turned up to eleven, with far more stylization and actual raw anger as the motivator. Their choreography isn’t nearly as difficult or seamless as Zay’s, but that’s all part of the fun contrast -- they’re messier, more erratic, but just as sharp and energetic.

Dylan, as the unexpected second-in-command, is particularly compelling. Considering how happy-go-lucky he usually is and the energy the techies usually have, the whole rendition… feels chilling. A manifestation of grief, above all else.

INT. AUDITION HALL - DAY

Zay gets the last chorus, about 4 minutes in. He finishes up his audition, giving a curt little bow.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The rest of the techies have dispersed, Dylan left on stage seemingly alone. He saunters his way back into the shadows… although his own cool facade is coming apart. He bites back his own frustration and anger over the situation, letting it out in the smallest of symbolic ways with the final “pow” of the number.

He holds up a fist as he does so, as if he might do something -- but Asher is there. He catches his hand and meets his gaze, pulling him back down to Earth. A heavy moment passes between them… and then Dylan drops his hand.

Asher keeps a hold on it as he drifts back into the darkness, slowly pulling Dylan along with him until the stage is empty.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Lucas is back in the chair across from Jack, although the mood is a way it’s never been before. It’s not easygoing and comfortable, but it’s not tense and antagonistic either. Something about it is deflated, all of their usual fire as they volley back and forth burnt down to cinders.

That’s not for lack of trying, however. Jack is fully invested as he describes what the trial process is going to be like, explaining that he’ll be with Lucas the whole time and will be doing most of the talking. All Lucas has to do is show up and present himself appropriately, and he’ll do his best to handle the rest.

It’s Lucas who is bringing down the energy. Not that he's doing anything, exactly, but that’s the problem. He’s complacent, nodding along to what Jack has to say but not really engaging with it. Already convinced it’s a lost cause, and appearing surprisingly okay with it. Not thrilled, but resigned. Braced for the inevitable.

It’s so not Lucas, and this frustrates Jack. He tries to get him to talk with him about it, for them to brainstorm and see what else they can come up with, but Lucas isn’t budging. He plaintively states that Jack has wasted enough time stressing over him in the last three years.

Jack: … I’m not giving up. We’re going to fight this, Lucas. It’s not over yet.

Lucas: It’s not worth the energy.

Jack: Of course it is. Any student’s well-being is worth the effort --

Lucas, pointedly: But I’m not worth your career.

It’s the way he says it that really hits. Firmly, but softly, with this… ghost of a smile. Like he recognizes Jack’s persistence, appreciates it for what it is… but already knows it’s futile. And certainly not worth tanking his own well-being to combat.

Jack stares at him, lost for words. Wanting there to be an easy solution, a checkmate move he can make to prove this whole thing isn’t pointless.

Asher, pre-lap: He’s completely given up.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The techies are occupying the stage, in the midst of another brainstorm session. The whiteboard is out, but it’s completely blank. The mood in here has deflated as well, all of that anger in their imaginary grieving process having simmered down to inertia.

Their figurehead is gone, and so it seems is their spirit.

Dylan: It was just wrong. For him to look at us and just tell us… for him to just surrender. It’s like it wasn’t even Lucas.

Jade: He’s really not even trying? He’s just going to let it happen.

[ Asher nods. The entire mood deflates even further. Nate shakes his head in disgust. ]

Nate: And there’s nothing we can fucking do about it.

Riley, off-screen: Maybe not.

All of them perk up, looking towards the dressing room hall. Riley enters with Isadora, the two of them marching over to join the techie circle. Lucas may think the situation is fruitless, but then, he’s never been the optimist. If they follow his example, then they will fail. That’s guaranteed.

Isadora: Lucas has never been about fighting for himself. He’d do it for any one of us, but never for himself.

Riley: But that doesn’t mean we have to give up too. And we may not have any direct power in our hands, but there is one thing that not even the Bradfords can buy off of us.

Dave: Our vital organs?

Isadora: Close, Dave. Very close.

Riley: Our voice.

Nate scoffs, but they’re not finished. The way they see it, the only thing they can do in this situation is speak up, and loudly, that none of them are okay with it. This isn’t just about Lucas, after all -- if he goes down, then every one of them are at risk of being the next domino to fall. They’re aware the school has never been about camaraderie, but now more than ever is the time to band together as a united front.

So they’re going to protest it, boldly and publicly. Riley has already started brainstorming logistics, and Isadora has some thoughts on how they can get the media involved so it actually has some heft. But they’re going to need help, a lot of help… including Lucas’s most loyal crew.

Dylan is already on board, ready for a scrap and a riot or two. The rest seem eager as well, but Nate does make one solid point.

Nate: Okay, so say we do this. Great. That’s what… ten people standing outside Adams shouting about how unfair everything is? That’ll be real compelling. Especially since we’re his friends.

Asher: Unfortunately, Nate is right.

Nate: Thanks.

Asher: This is a good plan, but it needs numbers. And we definitely don’t have pull with the rest of the student body.

Jeff: We could maybe get some of the underclassmen techies in on it, but...

Riley: That’s great. You all focus on that, and Isadora will delegate the rest of the preparation tasks. [ a beat ] Leave the rest to me.

Vague, but promising. The room is suddenly buzzing with energy again -- the invigorating sense that all hope is not lost. The techies exchange determined glances, then look to Riley. All in, whatever happens next.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Charlie opens his locker, checking his phone and surprised to find a missed call and voicemail waiting. He lifts it to his ear to listen, shock taking over his features. It’s Principal Jackson of Haverford Prep, calling to explain that they’ve reviewed his application and are happy to offer him admission to their elite senior class.

In all of the insanity, Charlie had completely forgotten about the audition. He honestly didn’t think he would even get in. Now that the possibility has been laid down in front of him, he doesn’t know how to process it.

HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ come to join him, immediately asking if everything is okay based on his expression. He covers, clearing his throat and claiming he’s just… thinking about his final performance. Trying to figure out what it should be.

They don’t question him, launching into brainstorming ideas. Charlie lets the moment pass, shutting his locker and following them down the hall.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley and Isadora confront Eric, pitching him their strategy for a student opposition to the school board trial. They’re methodical, meticulous, and clearly prepared. He can’t possibly say they haven’t thought things through, and any action is better than inaction.

So he’s on board. He agrees to be their faculty sponsor, allowing them to congregate on school grounds and do whatever processes they so please within a reasonable limit. But he emphasizes that this will really have to be on them -- he’ll be busy playing emotional support the day of the trial so he won’t be able to help them much.

Isadora: Don’t worry about it. We can handle it.

She says it confidently, exchanging a resolute look with Riley. They know exactly what they’re getting into, and they’re doing it no matter what.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Which is the energy Riley takes to the A class, rallying with them during class. Harper gives her full control of the front of the room and doesn’t fight for attention, more than happy to let this fight take precedence.

And damn, does Riley make a compelling case. She highlights all the reasons they should be willing to help drum up support, starting with a compassion-based approach before swerving into more tactful psychology. She reiterates what Maya basically said when they heard the news -- if this goes through, it will set a precedent that endangers all of them.

Sarah: And why should I care what happens to Lucas? All he’s done is cause trouble.

Asher: Maybe because you wouldn’t have had a successful production for the last three years if he weren’t here, Carlson. Not that anyone would’ve missed your forgettable background vocals.

Ooooh. Asher is not here to play around this week, and the class derives the limited amusement they can from it. Sarah doesn’t argue further, but Riley elects to actually acknowledge her point.

Riley: Lucas is the current target, yes, but the point is that it could’ve been -- and could be -- any one of us. If you can’t bring yourself to care about him, think about how it would feel if it were you next. Or your best friend. The person you cannot imagine Triple A without.

Heaviness settles over the room. Maya and Farkle exchange a look -- they know that fear all too well. Haley looks to Clarissa, the latter giving her a soft smile and taking her hand. Dylan squeezes Asher’s knee.

Riley: Best friend or not, we are all students at this school. For whatever reason, we were admitted, and we’ve earned our place here. And we cannot be bought. That’s something all of us should be able to get behind, details irrelevant.

There’s a long pause. Then YINDRA AMINO nods from her seat on top of one of the desks.

Yindra: Friar has never been my favorite person, but Riley is right. In this case, if it’s one of us, then it’s all of us. [ a beat ] I’m in.

Nigel: Ditto.

Slowly, the junior A class comes together. Maybe to save their own hides… or maybe because amidst the chaos, they’re some weird version of a family.

Riley, raising her hand symbolically: All in?

Dylan and Asher don’t hesitate. Zay’s hand goes up. Isadora’s. Maya, with a sharp smirk in Riley’s direction. Even Farkle. The only one who doesn’t seem one hundred percent sold is Charlie, his trained aversion to avoid trouble strong as ever. But his hand goes up all the same.

Riley looks at all of them, shining with pride and a little emotional. This, she can work with. This battle is far from over -- it’s only just beginning.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Yesterday - Anthology 2 Version” as performed by Paul McCartney || Performed by Lucas James Friar

Meanwhile, Lucas is gearing up to give his last performance at AAA (ironically, also one of his first). He’s casually seated on the edge of the stage with his guitar, actually taking the final assignment seriously. Might as well, if it’s the last one he ever has.

The Anthology 2 version specifically captures the unpolished, offhand quality of the performance, Lucas going through the motions of figuring out what key he’s going to be playing in and explaining it to Shawn and Eric. Then Harper cues him whenever he’s ready, and he launches into the song.

It’s unrehearsed, and full of mistakes -- including the bit where Lucas mixes up the wrong lyrics and kind of laughs at himself -- but there’s something really charming about it too. For the first time, Lucas seems weirdly at peace as he performs, knowing that none of it matters anymore. He can just sing, and it doesn’t mean anything more than that.

The faculty are not so at ease with the circumstances. Harper and Eric are both respectfully listening, doing well at keeping their own emotion in check. Shawn is not so skilled, doing his best to stem whatever tears might possibly be coming by clearing his throat and half-hiding behind his hand.

Jack is a couple rows behind them, watching the performance with a stony expression. Hating that it’s come to this, that he can’t even enjoy the rendition from the student he never thought he’d see willingly perform. Hating that he’s decided this is the final run without consulting him.

Lucas wraps up the performance, silence settling over the auditorium for a long moment. Harper manages a smile, nodding.

Harper: Thank you, Lucas.

Lucas returns the nod.

INT. MINKUS HOME - HOME OFFICE - NIGHT

Farkle pokes his head into STUART MINKUS’s office, asking if he has a moment. Although the past would suggest otherwise, Stuart assures him he always has time to spare for him.

After bringing up the subject of the Bradford case, which Stuart has naturally read up on, Farkle questions if they would be able to donate to Riley’s and the A class protest efforts. Not a chunk of change, just enough to pay for the supplies and such that they’ll need to make their materials. He doesn’t want Riley to have to pay out of pocket, and Stuart is always saying they should contribute to worthy causes.

Hard to argue with that. Stuart agrees, happily stating that Farkle can charge it to the family card. Still, he has to wonder…

Stuart: Isn’t this Friar boy the one who used to chase you around the auditorium and terrorize you every day?

Farkle: Yes, well, therapy has illuminated my own faux pas in that situation. And the past is the past, so.

So it is. Farkle thanks his father again, starting to head out when he hesitates. He turns to ask one more question, asking Stuart if he would’ve done the same thing. Like, if Farkle were Missy, wanting so badly to get in this elite school and they could pay through the nose to make it happen, would he go so far as to push another student out to do it?

Stuart seriously contemplates the question, intending to give Farkle a worthy answer. He admits that while it would be tempting, as one of the greatest joys as a parent is giving your children everything they could possibly want… he likes to think no, he wouldn’t. He’d try his best, but he wouldn’t want to give Farkle an advantage at the expense of someone else.

Fair enough. Farkle seems satisfied with that, nodding and offering a smile and good night as he heads back into the hall.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Lucas joins GRACE FRIAR on the couch, the two of them enjoying a humble snack before bed. Lucas apologizes for all of the chaos this whole story has caused, especially if any of it has blown back on her. She brushes it off, but admits that it’s for the best that his father is out of town right now. Hopefully it will all blow over by the time he returns.

Ah, yes, his father… slowly, some of Lucas’s resigned demeanor begins to crack. Although he tries to come off aloof, he asks what’s going to happen if he does end up removed from AAA. Is he going to have to drop out? Or worse, is he going to go back to Quincy?

Grace looks at him, mustering a weak smile and patting his knee.

Grace: We’ll figure out a plan. It’ll be fine.

But it’s clear from how timid her voice is and the expression on her face that she has no plan. They have no alternatives, and saying it’ll be fine doesn’t erase the fear from her features.

Lucas mirrors the half-hearted smile, nodding in agreement. It only crumbles when he looks away, staring at the floor and clenching his jaw to keep his expression neutral.

For all his perceived quietude, he might be pretty scared too.

Charlie, pre-lap: I just wish there was more I could do.

INT. GARDNER HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Charlie is seated at the kitchen table, ELEANOR GARDNER listening as he tells her all about what’s going on with their school right now. Riley’s plan is about the only active opposition they’ve got, but he’s still not sure if he should go through with it or not. He wants to, because he really wants to help take a stand… but he’s nervous, too. If things go south, it definitely won’t look good on his records.

Although Eleanor is sympathetic to Lucas’s plight, she claims Charlie is right to be cautious. It’s his future on the line as well, and he shouldn’t be giving that up just because his classmate already fumbled theirs. In fact, since Lucas sort of got himself into this situation, she thinks it might be wise for Charlie to mind his own business and let it be.

He was on the same page with her there for most of it… but putting the blame on Lucas bumps him. He questions what she’s talking about, and she points out that if you do the crime, then you do the time. Lucas has far from a clean record, and if this is the cosmic punishment the Lord has laid down for him then far be it for them to try and fight it.

Charlie: Isn’t it our job to help people who have fallen though? I thought the whole point of faith was to uplift, and extend forgiveness --

Eleanor: It is. Honey, it is, I’m not saying otherwise. But mistakes have consequences, and punishment must be served.

Charlie: So you’re saying I should do nothing. Even though I clearly have something that I could do, even as small as showing up.

Eleanor: I think you should do whatever you feel in your heart is right. Just remember… there are some people in this world who cannot be saved. You’ll have to decide whether this classmate of yours is worth it or not.

Suddenly we’re putting worth on a teenager again. Charlie frowns, not sure what to make of the conversation.

Then Eleanor takes it a step further, shifting her attention to him. She makes a face and affectionately adjusts his hair, clicking her tongue.

Eleanor: This is getting quite long, isn’t it? We should make you an appointment to get it cut. [ innocently ] Don’t want to give people the wrong impression, hm?

Wrong impression of what? The comment is meant to be protective and loving, but it rubs Charlie the wrong way. He continues to frown as his mother walks away and heads for bed, slowly shifting into a scowl.

He pushes from his seat, heading towards the stairs.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie is already dialing his phone before he even shuts the door, pacing impatiently while he waits for a response. When they pick up, his gaze is intent.

Charlie: Riley? What’s the plan? [ resolute ] Tell me what I can do to help.

As the rocking guitar rolls in…

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Predict A Riot” as performed by Kaiser Chiefs || Performed by AAA Juniors

School is no longer for education but for strategizing, the classroom having been transformed into a headquarters for Riley’s protest mission. They’re working under a tight timeline with the school set to be their battleground in just a couple days, so everyone is hard at work.

Throughout the montage, A class students jog up and edit items on the massive whiteboard. Cross off action items, add new ones, adjust the countdown they have in the top right. The vocals float over the scenery, not a performance but more so a battle cry.

Asher and Dylan are in charge of poster design, leading groups of students in creating them with expert efficiency. They hold up a few here and there for Riley to approve, some humorous while others hit the nail right on the head.

Jade is leading a crop of workers in making custom tee shirts for the event, Clarissa keeping track of all the new “orders” they get for a shirt on a spreadsheet. NICK YOGI floats around with his A/V club camera, capturing the whole process for historical posterity.

Isadora makes her grand move, getting media pull by using the De La Cruz card. She negotiates on the phone with them one-by-one, claiming she’ll give them exclusive details on how the mother-daughter dynamic is developing… if they pay her one back and cover this story as well.

After another successful call, she jots it down in her notebook before shifting her focus. She pulls up her text chain with Valerie, letting her know what’s going on and keeping her updated on all the details. It’s clear that she let her know about it yesterday and Valerie responded telling her to keep her posted, but she’s yet to respond since then.

Riley is drawing up agendas and maps for the day, from where they’ll start to where they’ll end. Farkle and Charlie are brainstorming with her, offering suggestions or walking through the plot step-by-step. Maya and Zay are keeping a working copy of the “performance” schedule, including speeches, chants, and renditions planned throughout the afternoon.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Sarah and DARBY WINTERS run through the halls, putting their notorious gossip skills to good use and spreading the word. More and more students from all grades make their way towards the black box, looking to contribute in whatever way they can.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Riley is in the midst of a discussion about where the march should start when her phone rings, distracting her. She claims she has to take it and tells her crew she’ll be right back, darting into the hall.

Farkle: I’m just saying, I don’t see how having everyone blockade the streets around Triple A with their vehicles is such an unfeasible idea. I could contribute the Minkus helicopter if we’re really short on bulk.

Zay: Please tell me you realize how ridiculous you sound. If not, I’m not sure I have the heart to burst your bubble.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley picks up the phone, TOPANGA LAWRENCE on the other end of the line. Riley warns her that this isn’t really a good time, as there’s a lot going on at the moment.

Topanga asks when isn’t there, but she cheerfully assures her she’ll be quick. She just wanted to check in about whether Riley had given any more thought to the upstate move. If they do want to consider the art schools up there, after all, they really need to get a move on…

Riley holds her breath, confronted with the decision unexpectedly. But glancing over her shoulder towards the black box, where her entire class is so hard at work with her leading the charge… suddenly the answer becomes crystal clear.

Riley: I can’t.

Topanga: What’s that, dear? You have to speak up, you know I’m always telling you that.

Riley, firmly: I want to stay in Manhattan, mom. I want to stay at Triple A.

Silence. Riley fidgets under the cold reception, but she doesn’t back down. She opens her mouth to speak again but Topanga beats her to it.

Topanga: Are you sure?

Riley: Yes. I really appreciate it, the offer, and everything you think you’re doing for me. Really, I do. But this is where I need to be right now. It’s where I want to be. I can’t leave everything I have here. [ a beat ] Especially not now.

More silence. It feels like it might go on forever… when Topanga states it’s fine. She doesn’t sound pleased, but she will respect Riley’s choice as she said she would. She just hopes this doesn’t mean they’ll never see one another again.

Riley: Of course not --

Topanga, passive-aggressively: I just hope you’re making the right choice.

Once upon a time, that tactic may have worked on Riley. But she’s learned a lot since then. She’s learned to stand up for herself, to raise her own voice -- when she does, that’s when she’s really worth knowing.

Riley: I am. Trust me.

Well, nothing left to say, then. Topanga says she’ll call later, but Riley knows that might be a while so she can lick her wounds. They say goodbye and Riley leans against the wall, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

She looks back towards the classroom, alive with action and purpose. A movement she created.

Then she jumps back into the fray, ready to really make a difference.

EXT. AAA - DAY

A fancy town car pulls up outside Adams. A glossy pair of shoes step out from the backseat, and MISSY BRADFORD emerges as the driver helps her out of the car. She exchanges a proud smile with her father CARSON BRADFORD, the two of them making their way up the steps towards the entrance. Already, board members in suits are milling about the building.

Trial day has arrived, and with it the future of AAA.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Jack is finishing setting up the lecture hall for the proceedings, directing faculty to finish the arrangements. It’s decorated quite similarly to a courtroom, a long string of tables at one end of the room set up for the board members. Opposite that, a table is set up for the Bradfords and their legal team, and a few feet away are seats for Jack and Lucas at their own table.

Up in front of the projector screen in the corner, a podium stands, typically reserved for the lecturers who use the space. Today, it’s a witness stand.

Evelyn Rand greets Jack as she enters, one of the first board members to arrive. She commends him on being willing to use their space, and for organizing such an efficient set up. That being said, she does hope the proceedings won’t create too much of a disturbance for the students.

Oh, don’t you worry about the students, Miss Rand…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

The students are creating a disturbance all their own.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Come Together” as performed by The Beatles || Performed by AAA Juniors (feat. AAA Students)

Riley kicks off the eerie call-to-arms, walking towards us down the street from the march starting point. Soon enough Dylan and Asher fall into line behind her on either side, harmonizing with her. On the first “come together,” Isadora and Zay arrive, and they sing the chorus right to the camera.

So the march continues, picking up more and more students along the way until there’s a full-fledged rally making their way towards the school. Thanks to Isadora’s media influence, reporters and other passersby join in on the crowd as well. By the time they arrive at Adams, a crowd of at least 200 people has gathered to protest.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Missy is just in the midst of explaining to the school board that her lawyer should be here any minute -- just as ANNE MARIE WINTHROP walks through the door. She apologizes for the delay, as there were lots of unexpected traffic jams on the way over.

Jack: Oh, hell no --

Before Jack can make a move either way on this brand new reveal -- a dirty move on the Bradfords part, hiring his ex-girlfriend -- Eric swoops in and grabs his arm. His eyes are wide.

Eric: You’ve got to see this.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric make their way to the doors, stunned by the scene that has formed on the steps of the school. The other school board members are getting a good look too, the stunt definitely having gotten their attention.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Outside, as the Beatles tune shifts into the guitar solo, Riley takes to the section of the steps they’ve designated the “stage” and takes the megaphone from Maya. She begins her opening speech to her fellow students about why they’re there today -- because they’re the true heart of AAA, and they refuse to be bought.

Riley: Who are we?

AAA Students: The people!

Riley: Do we matter?

AAA Students: Yes!

Dave: Hell yeah!

Riley: And what matters more -- the people, or a profit?

AAA Students: The people!

Riley: No matter who you are?

AAA Students: Yeah!

Riley: No matter what?

AAA Students: No matter what!

Damn right! More media is arriving to cover the surprise protest, surprising the likes of Jefferson Graham as he arrives for the trial. He seems disdainful as he pushes his way through students and avoids reporters, heading for the stairs.

Lucas also arrives in the midst of the spectacle, dressed as best as he can manage in dark jeans and a slightly wrinkled button down. He even managed to comb his hair after an entire year of dissing the notion. He’s stunned by the crowd and the rally and the sheer presence of such a fuss, absolutely baffled.

Lucas, under his breath: What the fuck --

As if on cue, reporters zero on him. There he is! The infamous Lucas James Friar! They start to swarm him, asking a million questions that he has no idea how to handle or answer.

Luckily, Eric comes to his rescue. He appears in the crowd, reaching out and taking his arm.

Eric: Hey, I got you. Come on, come on!

Lucas follows Eric, letting him push their way through the assembly and towards the school. When they get to the entrance and he can finally see the view from above it all, Lucas scans the chaotic scene and finds Riley standing at the core of it all.

They lock eyes, only for a moment, across the steps. Then Riley takes a deep breath, turning back to the people and leading their war cry.

Riley: People over profit! We won’t be bought!

AAA Students: People over profit! People over profit!

The crowd is downright uproarious. Eric guides the dumbstruck Lucas through the doors and into the school, leaving the movement to Riley.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

The sound of the protest lowers to a quiet din as they step into the school, but it’s impossible to ignore. Lucas and Eric meet with Jack, discussing what the hell is going on outside. Sure, it’s a lot, but it definitely can’t hurt their case.

Jack: Trust me, I don’t think the Bradfords are planning to play nice.

Eric claims it doesn’t matter -- they have their case, and they know they’re on the right side of AAA history. Now, it’s just time to convince everyone else.

Jack gives Lucas a bracing pat on the shoulder, asking if he’s ready. He nods, and the three of them make their way to the lecture hall.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

From inside the hall, all of the uproar from just outside the school is silent. Attention is rapt as Evelyn thanks everyone for taking the time to be in attendance, explaining the process for how the proceedings will operate. They will be going mainly off of character witnesses and discussing the logistics of the enrollment process at Adams, all to determine whether junior student Lucas James Friar can keep his coveted spot -- or if someone, such as Missy Bradford, has the right to demand it for herself.

There are about nine school board members present, including Rand and Graham. It’s near impossible for there to be a tie or hung jury in this situation, so this should wrap by the end of the day. One key board member who gets focus is HARRISON YANCY, another older gentleman who is eyeing Lucas with cautious distaste.

Still, they only need to convince five. If five people can see the grander implications of this situation, then Lucas won’t be going anywhere.

Evelyn requests that each of the cases make their main argument as opening statements. Anne Marie rises first, laying down the perspective of the Bradford prosecution. As she starts to speak, highlighting the favoritism and unprofessionalism that permeates Jack Hunter’s enrollment procedures and running of AAA, Lucas frowns and leans over to whisper to Jack.

Lucas: Isn’t that your --

Yes, Lucas. Yes, it is. Jack merely shakes his head at him. Not now. Anne Marie maintains her professionalism, delivering the opposition with cool authority and seemingly no personal bias attached. Lucas does not deserve his spot at Adams, and there are plenty of well-intentioned and talented individuals -- such as Miss Bradford -- who deserve their chance at his spot. Especially since they can afford to pay for it.

Jack rises to give their case, explaining that this is an issue that should have never escalated to this sort of ordeal. They have their enrollment procedures, which have never been an issue for the over 50 years that AAA has existed. Lucas is not a mastermind but a strawman, a scapegoat the Bradfords are using to get their way by digging into the personal life of an 18-year-old student who has put his time and effort into the community here -- just not in such obviously visible ways as some of his peers. Missy glances at Lucas from her spot at the table, eyeing him with mild interest.

Then Jack emphasizes the precedent this decision will set, the much larger implications and overarching impact removing Lucas to suit the needs of a demanding pocketbook might have.

Certainly much to think about on both sides. It’s time to hear from the masses.

The sequence passes in a montage, different characters taking the podium as Anne Marie and Jack call them to speak on Lucas’s time at Adams. One is HARLEY KEINER, called in by the Bradfords to discuss the time Lucas spent living in the technician’s booth -- a misuse of school property. Harley admits that’s true, and he took the steps necessary to stop it, as did Jack.

But then when Jack gets the chance to question him, Harley points out that Lucas never purposefully misused or damaged any equipment. He was always quite respectful of the more serious items in their shared spaces, and while yes, a desk or house seat here and there might have suffered vandalism, Lucas isn’t the only student who has messed with school property.

When CORY MATTHEWS is called to speak on Lucas’s academics, he admits to the Bradford’s points that Lucas does have an iffy attendance record. However, his grades are still sharp, some of the best in the junior class. Better than half of the performing students, as it were. This seems to be a good point for the defense… until Anne Marie points out that if his grades are so good, then he’d presumably be fine at any school -- least of all a school for the arts when he doesn’t care about the arts.

Additionally, Anne Marie manages to twist Cory’s words. She gets him confused or contradicting himself, effectively making his somewhat helpful testimony rather useless by the end. Jack shakes his head, frustrated.

However, it’s not a complete loss. They manage to come back when Yindra takes the stand, acting as the character witness for the Junior A Class. While Anne Marie expects it to be a pretty easy win -- they definitely have the impression that the performers are not fond of Lucas -- Yindra throws a curveball by actually carrying the opinion that Lucas should stay.

Yindra: Don’t get me wrong, Friar is obnoxious. And yeah, most of us spent the first two years of our time here wondering what he was even doing here. But he’s great at what he does, and he’s a major part of the reason anything gets done around here. When he shows up, he shows up, and our productions are good enough evidence of that. I don’t know if he got his place here in the same way the rest of us did, but he’s certainly earned it since that time.

That’s a good point. The board takes careful note, and as they’re transitioning for their next witness Jack tells Lucas that things are looking good. There have been some unexpected turns, but they’re not out of the running by a long shot.

That is, until Anne Marie calls her next testimony. WYATT LIVINGSTON enters from the hall, back after a year to finally get his revenge on Lucas James Friar. We don’t even have to see the testimony to know it’s not going to be good.

Lucas gives Jack a wide-eyed look as Wyatt takes to the podium. What are they going to do about that? Anne Marie asks if Wyatt will be honest in his account, and give an accurate portrayal of Lucas during their time at AAA together. When he agrees, she tees him up, wondering if he has anecdotes he could share with the school board about Mister Friar.

Wyatt looks right at Lucas, a smug smile ghosting over his lips.

Wyatt: Plenty.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Following a couple more witnesses, the trial breaks for lunch. Lucas is pacing outside the lecture hall, almost bumping into Missy as she emerges to depart for a quick lunch.

The two of them size each other up for the first time, Lucas obviously not taking kindly to the entitled bitch gunning to take his spot. Missy, on the other hand, doesn’t seem at all disappointed to meet him. In fact, from the way she’s looking him over as she thinly apologizes for all the fuss this has caused, saying she has interest in him might just be the tip of the iceberg.

Missy: I’ll admit, I don’t think photos do you justice. And I didn’t expect things to get so very complicated. All the things everyone is saying about you, all the conflicting accounts… fascinating. Isn’t it? Things might have gone differently, had I known our chosen subject was so… provocative.

Lucas is not impressed. He remains stone-faced as Missy’s father beckons her, off for their relaxing, carefree meal.

Jack and Eric emerge from the lecture hall, joining Lucas in the midst of their conversation. They agree that in opposition to the surprise of Wyatt, they’re going to need an equally compelling testimony to throw them off. Eric claims he’s already on it, brewing with an idea.

Wyatt exits from the lecture hall, sauntering his way through the halls of the school that so easily dropped him like a king. He nods to Lucas with a smirk, cocky with long-awaited victory.

Wyatt: See you out there when they dump you on your ass too, Friar.

Lucas scowls, nearly lunging on instinct. But Jack pulls him back, restraining him and firmly stating that’s exactly what Wyatt wants him to do. The last thing they need is to give the opposition any more fodder to play with in their court.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Meanwhile, the student protests are well on their way. People have guitars, are waving their home-made signs proudly, listening to the speeches and performances while lounging around on the steps and on the lawn of the school. It’s somewhere between a social march and like… Woodstock. It’s a snapshot of the 60s youth movements, only 60 years later.

Nearby, Isadora is fielding questions from reporters. She’s doing an excellent job considering her usual aversion to the spotlight -- Valerie would be proud!

A couple of seniors are at the megaphone at the moment, giving Riley a chance to regroup. But she’s far from relaxed, unable to take her eyes off the school as she sips water. Dylan and Asher wander over to join her, commending her for staying hydrated and wondering how she thinks everything is going.

Outside? Fine. Inside… she has no idea, and that’s clearly what they all actually care about. It’s a minimal relief when Yindra steps out from the atrium, jogging down the steps to come and join them after her testimony. Riley asks how it’s going in there, and she informs them that they brought Wyatt back as a character witness.

Riley, Asher, and Dylan: Wyatt?

Riley: How is that an unbiased opinion?

Asher: Oh, so he really wants to get punched again?

Dylan, softly: [ taking Asher’s shoulders and rubbing them soothingly ] Easy there, bird bones.

Yindra: Believe me, it’s ridiculous and we all know it. But the school board doesn’t, although hopefully some of them are aware of Wyatt’s own history at Triple A.

Otherwise, it’s hard to say how the tides are shifting. But the stuff they’re doing out here is good regardless. She heard some of the board discussing it while she was on her way out. They’re making a point, if nothing else.

Across the lawn, some of the performers are discussing the importance of the protest despite their apparent nonchalance as they recline in the shade. Maya is laying with her head in Farkle’s lap, boldly declaring that although Lucas is the worst ninety percent of the time, she might actually miss him if they decide to oust him unfairly.

Before Farkle can respond, Eric comes over to join them. He asks if he can borrow Farkle for a moment, Maya offhandedly complaining that he’ll be taking her pillow, but letting him go. He gets to his feet, walking slowly back towards the steps as Eric engages him in conversation.

He gets right to the point, pitching that Farkle consider being their last character witness for the trial. It’s a big favor to ask, and Farkle seems confused by the request. Partially because it’s a lot of responsibility to take on, but also…

Farkle: How could that possibly be a good idea? Lucas and I have hated each other since we met.

Eric: I know. They know that too, so you getting up there at the podium and stating that he deserves to stay?

Could be a checkmate. A risky gambit, that’s for sure, but maybe exactly the counterpoint they need. If Farkle, who was tormented by Lucas in their bewildering hate war of three years, can testify that he still deserves his place here…

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Still, it’s a lot to ask. Eric is aware of that, especially if Farkle doesn’t really believe it. He would try to sell him on the other aspects to the case he obviously agrees with, like the precedent thing, but more so Eric understands that it might be too much to ask. He’s not going to try and bribe him into it.

Eric: I don’t want you to feel pressured to do so. I know how complicated your dynamic is, and you certainly don’t owe him anything. I wouldn’t want you to get up there and say something you don’t mean.

Farkle: Do you think it’ll make a difference? Like, for real?

Eric, honest: I don’t know. But it’s basically the only idea I’ve got left. [ patting his shoulder ] Do whatever you’re comfortable with. I just knew that if I didn’t ask, I’d regret it. I appreciate you considering it, either way.

Eric backs off, leaving him to ruminate on it. Farkle stands frozen in the hall, slowly succumbing to contemplation as the world around him begins to dim and fade away.

In some ways, it feels like his entire rebirth act has been leading to something like this. Does he want to play it safe, staying comfortably in the background of the cause -- or does he put himself right in the line of fire? Does he pay forward an act of kindness to someone who has given him nothing but grief -- or does he take the opportunity to get final cosmic payback? Or, in an effort to truly look out for himself as he’s always known, does he do absolutely nothing?

The time has come to decide if he’s truly going to repent, or if he’s going to run yet again.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Monster” as performed by Frozen Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus

If there’s a song where lyrics hit pointedly this episode, this would be it. Farkle grapples with all of the uncertainty and confliction he’s felt about his own sense of self since the end of last season -- is he doomed to be a monster, acting selfishly and reactively as everyone casted him? And if he is nothing but a monster… does he kill it?

All this pain, all this fear began because of me Is the thing they see, the thing I have to be?

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

As the march bit starts, we throw between the protests going on outside with their chants and Jack reconvening with key board members. The “no harm comes to him” belongs to Jack, obviously speaking on behalf of Lucas.

Farkle is the focus again on the second verse, dramatically making his way through the halls as he tears himself up over the two parts of his identity.

Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage Caught in a war that I never meant to wage

He bursts through the doors to the dressing room hall --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And ends up on the stage, nothing but a spotlight illuminating him as he settles into the softer bridge. When he speaks to his father, Stuart appears on his right and watches him wisely. There for Farkle to seek wisdom from… but not able to give him the answer.

Father, you know what's best for me If I die, will they be free?

Then he turns to his left, where JENNIFER MINKUS is watching him with love and pride. He seeks counsel from her too, wondering whether his silence will be just as destructive as his active mistakes of the past.

Mother, what if after I'm gone The cold gets colder and the storm rages on?

Suddenly, the truth seems to hit him.

No! I’ve got to stay alive, to fix what I’ve done --

Farkle whips around and marches back through the wings, determination taking over his features. He travels through the darkness…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

And pushes back out into the hallway for the final verse, reaching his decision. Maybe he’s a monster -- maybe he’s always destined to be broken, selfish, a little bit off and a little bit wrong. But when opportunities are presented to him to make a difference, he can choose to make a difference. He can choose to speak out, even when it’s complicated. Even when it’s not in his own self-interest.

As he sings the final resounding note, we cut between him stomping his way towards the lecture hall and belting in the spotlight center stage. It’s powerful in the same way his performance of “Santa Fe” was, only this time it’s not defeat provoking the emotion.

Farkle looks to the school board members standing outside the lecture hall, everyone reconvening for final testimonies. Then he pushes through the doors and marches inside, disappearing behind them.

Jack is rushing back to the lecture hall, nearly bumping into Anne Marie. They both apologize until they realize who they’ve bumped into, growing colder. Jack claims this is a low move, and a bit hypocritical considering how she’s always talking about professionalism. Anne Marie scoffs, rolling her eyes.

Anne Marie: It’s just a job, Jack. They presented a case that I happen to agree with, and paid me a fair amount of money for my services.

Jack: Oh, I’m sure they did.

Anne Marie: It’s not personal, Principal Hunter. [ shortly ] Unlike you’re so convinced everything is.

She pushes through the doors, leaving him behind. Jack forces himself to take a deep breath, cooling his temper and stepping in after her.

EXT. AAA - DAY

While the war rages on, Zay is distracted by a call on his phone. He waits for a voicemail, although he recognizes the number as the same one who gave him the information about his callback. More likely than not, this is whether or not he actually got the part.

He moves away from the crowd, taking refuge down by the bottom steps. Releasing a sigh, he holds his breath when the voicemail comes through and raises the phone to his ear to listen.

After a long moment, a huge grin spreads across his face. He almost falls over, reaching out for the banister by the stairs for support.

Zay: Holy shit. Holy shit!

Charlie notices his outburst, jogging down the steps and asking him what’s going on. He stammers out half an explanation that makes absolutely zero sense before Zay manages to find the words, telling him that he got the part. He got the role in the Off-Broadway production.

Charlie’s jaw drops. He takes Zay’s shoulders.

Charlie: Oh my God. [ happier ] Oh my God!

In the excitement, they embrace, and it’s not the end of the world. In that moment, it’s just a moment of pure joy, shared between two good friends. When they pull apart, Charlie has a million questions.

Charlie: Well, what’s the role? What’s the schedule like? When are performances going to be?

Zay: I -- [ breathless ] I don’t know! I still have to accept the role.

Charlie: … okay? Okay, well, do it! Call them right now!

Although he’s clearly thrilled, Zay claims he can’t just do that. When Charlie asks why not, Zay sort of shrugs and states that he just needs to think about it. You know, gotta consider all the factors before making a decision like this. Charlie stares at him like he’s crazy, wondering when the hell Zay Babineaux suddenly became hesitant.

Then realization washes over him. He did that. Zay was never an overthinker… until they got together. When Charlie became a priority, and dragged along all his baggage and conditions and trained hesitancy with him.

Zay isn’t paying attention to his change in demeanor, still smiling as he glances down at his phone. He’ll probably accept it, of course, but… it’s just an honor to have gotten an offer. Crazy, how quickly things can change like this. Isn’t it?

Charlie, blankly: … crazy.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Farkle has taken to the podium, Lucas looking less than thrilled at his presence. How he could possibly help his case, he has no idea, and from how flatly Farkle is answering Anne Marie and Jack’s questions it doesn’t seem like he’s all that intent on selling Lucas’s good merits.

Anne Marie isn’t going easy on him either. To her, this sudden additional testimony is a fumble on the defense, and she’s going to milk Lucas and Farkle’s problematic dynamic for everything it’s worth. Although Farkle gives his point about how he was responsible for half of their tangles and certainly acted as a provocateur, Anne Marie still uses it to craft a more unfavorable impression of Lucas.

However, after a certain point, Farkle has had enough. That’s when the tables really start to turn, just when Anne Marie and the Bradfords think his presence is a home run for them.

Farkle: Miss Winthrop -- ladies and gentlemen of the school board -- I’m going to be fully honest. It’s a creed I picked up after my failed suicide attempt, which I know you’re aware of since you elected to feature it in one of your articles.

Lucas, under his breath: Oh, God.

Anne Marie: Certainly. By all means, Mister Minkus.

Farkle: Here’s the read. Lucas James Friar sucks. I think you’ve proven that well enough this afternoon, and I wasn’t even here. It’s not hard to prove -- he sucks. There’s a reason I spent three years calling him “Jackass.”

Anne Marie: Yes, I think we’ve made that quite clear. Thank you --

Farkle: But I suck, too.

Anne Marie: … I’m sorry?

The tension in the room shifts somewhat. Jack raises his eyebrows -- Lucas stares at Farkle, not sure what to expect.

Farkle: I suck just as much as he does. I mean, I’m a fucking monster. [ pausing ] Sorry, is cursing allowed? If not, you can strike that from the record.

Evelyn: Go on, Mister Minkus.

Farkle: Point is, I’m a menace. We all hated Lucas, but everyone hated me too. And my best friend, Maya Hart, she’s an absolute maniac. Cut-throat, calculating, could and would throw me off the catwalk if it would help her career. But damn, is she talented. So am I, in theory. And so is Lucas, just not in the same way. It pains me, I mean, truly pains me to say this, but we would not have pulled off half the things we did in the three years we’ve been here if it weren’t for him and the way he leads the student technicians.

Well. This is taking an unexpected turn. The school board sits up straighter in their seats, leaning forward with interest. Anne Marie glances at them, then back at Farkle, trying to anticipate where this is going and develop a counterpoint. The Bradfords seem just as unsettled as Lucas and Jack -- there’s really no way to determine where this will end up.

Farkle: So yes. Lucas sucks. It’s not hard to prove that. But so do I. So does Maya. So does most of the student body. The way I see it, I think you need to reevaluate what this whole trial is even trying to determine. What credentials are you measuring Lucas against? Because if it’s like… merit or being a good person, then that’s not unique to Lucas James Friar. If you’re deciding whether someone should be allowed to stay because they’re a good person, then the school should just shut down. No one here is perfect, and you could put any one of us in that seat and debate for hours whether we deserve the right to be here.

The board takes this in, murmuring amongst themselves. Evelyn eyes Farkle with keen interest, obviously intrigued by what he has to say.

Farkle: And if you remove that element, well… [ plainly ] Then I’m not sure you’ve got a case at all.  

Okay, now there’s a strong statement. Missy narrows her eyes, not all that fond of this Farkle Minkus kid. He remains impressively calm though, not at all smug as he harpoons half of their case against Lucas.

But Anne Marie is a skilled lawyer, and she’s not going to let this knock her off her game. She waves him off, turning to the board.

Anne Marie: Thought-provoking perspective. [ with a shrug ] But hardly relevant.

Jack: Are you kidding me?

Lucas jumps, surprised by Jack’s outburst. He rises to his feet, leveling his glare with Anne Marie’s.

Jack: This entire debate has been matters of opinion! You can’t just dismiss one important testimony because it doesn’t align with your case.

Anne Marie: Well, I think then perhaps we should at least consider the suspiciously late addition to the schedule Mister Minkus demonstrated. One has to wonder what sort of last minute desperate maneuver… in a school full of actors, a favor or a bribe --

Jack, scoffing: Bribe? The Bradford prosecution is going to lecture the board about bribery?

Well, that escalated quickly. Evelyn regains control of the room before anything more can be said, hurting either of their cases. She urges them to maintain their professionalism, but it’s clear people are heated on all sides. Lucas looks like he’s going to be sick.

Evelyn declares that they will take a ten minute recess, and then come back together for closing statements. She personally feels they won’t need much else after all the other discussion they’ve heard today.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack and Lucas have regrouped in his office, Jack pacing and lamenting the tactics that the Bradfords and Anne Marie have stooped to in this process. This isn’t a fair process, this is a circus, that much is certain.

Lucas isn’t contributing to the vent session. He’s not fired up like Jack, but he’s no longer mutedly resigned either -- the reality of the situation is finally starting to hit him, and that resignation is bubbling into panic.

Lucas: I’m leaving Triple A.

Jack: It’s not over yet.

Lucas is pacing now too, but it’s not strident like Jack’s. He’s fretful, hands shaking, like an animal trapped in a cage. He’s been cornered, and he can’t hold back the fear no matter how badly he tries.

Jack: Lucas, breathe --

Lucas, shaky: They’re going to send me back to Quincy. [ choking on it ] I can’t go back. I can’t --

Jack: Lucas -- hey. Hey!

Jack crosses the room to meet him, taking his shoulders and forcing him to stop. He gets him to look at him.

Jack, fiercely: Listen to me! I am not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand? Anything!

Lucas stares at him, still trembling.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Eric is rushing through the halls, Charlie running in from the entrance. He tries to catch up to him, claiming he needs to talk to him. Eric states that things are a bit high pressure at the moment, and almost dismisses him, but Charlie pleads his case.

Charlie: Please, Mister Matthews! It’s important.

Eric hesitates, looking at him and contemplating. Then he nods, gesturing for him to walk with him. Charlie jogs to catch up.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Farkle has rejoined the performers, recounting his testimony and how the place basically exploded before he left. Isadora asks if he thinks that’s a good thing or bad, and he honestly has no clue. It’s all so arbitrary anyway, it’s just going to come down to how people decide to vote.

Maya admits that she’s surprised Farkle testified in favor of Lucas. Like, she does get it, but truthfully she’s not even sure she would’ve done the same. Farkle admits he wasn’t either at first, but he knows how much he’s changed in the course of a year. Maybe this time last year, he would’ve made a different choice… but that’s not who he is anymore. And he’d hate to be judged solely on the mistakes he’s made -- he doesn’t think Lucas deserves it either.

Zay nods in respect, giving him a solid low-five. Maya smiles and wraps her arms around Farkle’s, resting her chin against his shoulder in that way that’s starting to become an affectionate habit.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Back in the proceedings, Anne Marie is wrapping up the closing statement for the Bradford case. It’s obvious that Lucas does not deserve his place at Adams, and someone like her client has a fair argument against the way Mister Hunter runs the school. And Missy Bradford can pay to attend it, so why should she be barred opportunities due to an arbitrary rule? If the counsel views the situation objectively, then there’s a clear sense of right and wrong in this scenario.

Well, no arguing with that last statement. The board finishes taking their notes, Evelyn turning the tables to Jack. He glances to Lucas, who is staring at the table and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

Then he rises, walking around the table and thanking the board for the opportunity to make their case this afternoon. He starts by pointing out this whole situation is inane, considering he did make a decision in this regard that the Bradfords elected to ignore. He believes changing his stance on a rule for a few dollar signs would set a dangerous precedent, especially when it’s at the expense of another student -- regardless of the student. But hopefully, the board can identify that much for themselves.

Jack hesitates, contemplating for a moment. Speaking with confidence, he rounds out his statement.

Jack: Miss Winthrop is correct that there is a clear sense of right and wrong here. One that I feel strongly about, that I know will define my career regardless of the outcome this afternoon. So allow me to make that stance crystal clear. [ clasping his hands together ] Should you decide to remove Mister Friar from Adams Academy of the Arts for something as twisted as this, then I hope you’re prepared to find a new head administrator. Because I would resign and step down from my position, effective as soon as that decision is reached.

A ripple of shock runs through the room. Lucas lifts his head, horrified. The board is stunned by the stunt, not sure how to react -- although it seems as though Evelyn Rand might be holding back a chuckle. Anne Marie and the Bradfords are particularly incensed, identifying the emotional power play for what it is. Not logic, that’s for sure.

But Jack isn’t trying to act like it is. He maintains his professional demeanor.

Jack: That’s all. I’m sure you have plenty to consider moving forward.

Jack returns to his seat next to Lucas, not allowing his facade to crack even a bit. Lucas is still in shock, staring at him with dread. Unable to believe that he would go down on this sinking ship with him.

EXT. AAA - DAY

Isadora finds Riley in the crowd, claiming that the proceedings have wrapped and now they’re just awaiting final verdict. If Riley is going to address the press -- and Isadora clearly thinks she should -- now is the time.

She nods, returning to the spotlight section and taking the microphone from Nigel. Once she’s sure she’s gotten the attention of the media, Riley launches into her final speech of the protest. She reiterates all of the points that they and Jack have been making all afternoon, with that special spark only Riley Matthew can deliver.

Then she claims she wants to address the board, and the Bradfords, directly. She states that they can make whatever decision they choose, that’s obviously out of their control. But if they think they can remove one of their own and this will just go away, then they’re dead wrong.

Riley: This school is built on the power of our voices, and we will never stop using them. [ impassioned ] If you choose profit over the people, then mark my words, you will never stop hearing from the people.

It’s a compelling moment, and the passion with which Riley delivers it makes the threat damn believable. A modern day mockingjay…

Riley is done, but her classmates pick up the slack. The chant arises in the crowd again: People over profit! People over profit. People --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In contrast to the riot just outside, the auditorium is hauntingly quiet. All the energy that usually commands it day-by-day is being expended elsewhere, leaving it empty and hushed.

Which is precisely why Lucas is there. He’s seated on the floor in front of the center back section of the house where the techies usually congregate, arms wrapped around his knees. Absorbing the temporary peace and the strange belonging he’s always felt in the auditorium, regardless of how many highs and lows have occurred inside of it.

A door opens from behind him, and Isadora appears at his side a few seconds later. She doesn’t say anything, dropping down next to him and tilting her head back against the section panel.

After a moment, she reaches out and places her hand on his knee. She doesn’t offer anything more than that, but the message is loud and clear.

Asher: Mind if we join you?

Lucas and Isadora look up, Asher and Dylan walking hand-in-hand in their direction. Lucas nods and they settle down across from him, sharing in the silent support. Wanting to be with him in these last moments, regardless of where he goes from here.

Lucas, to Dylan: Heard you were a pretty good captain in my absence.

Dylan shrugs humbly. Asher smiles at him, but someone beats him to a confirmation.

Jade: He was.

Lucas looks to his left, and there they are. Jade, Nate, Jeff, and Dave, also having found their way to him. They join the sit-in without another word, completing the circle. All of them together in solidarity, a complete set for the first time in months.

They sit in the silence for a long time. Then Dave breaks it, releasing a sigh.

Dave: Fucking capitalism, man.

The declaration hangs in the air for a long moment. Then Lucas lets out a laugh -- exhausted, but acknowledging how ridiculous this whole thing is. Taking comfort in Dave’s unique brand of eccentricity, as he always has.

And when it starts, the laughter is contagious. Before long the entire techie crew is laughing, sharing a moment of levity in spite of how heavy the situation feels. Finding reprieve in one another, as they have for the last three years.

Isadora jostles Lucas’s knee, shaking her head as she chuckles. Asher leans into Dylan’s shoulder. Jade hugs Dave’s side affectionately, playfully nudging Nate’s foot away as he attempts to kick at Jeff and Dave across the circle.

Charlie, pre-lap: Say what you want about Triple A, but the best thing about it is the people. Even when they’re the worst.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Charlie is seated across from Eric, speaking with more certainty than he ever has in his office. This time it’s his choice to be there, talking through everything he’s been tossing around in his head for months. He’s in the midst of trying to provide full context for what he needs help with.

Charlie: I know that better than anybody, and that’s part of what made applying somewhere else so hard. Like, why would I leave Adams? Everything I care about is here. Everyone I love is here. [ a beat ] I mean, I know why. I applied because I was scared. At the time, I fucked up, and made choices that hurt someone I love. And I thought the only way to deal with that was to run from it -- because I’ve been doing that my entire life, for as long as I can remember. Running, rather than facing the truth.

Eric listens patiently, giving Charlie all the time he needs to process.

Charlie: The more I think about it, the more I think love in it of itself is inherently selfish. And that’s weird, because love is supposed to be the ultimate virtue, you know? But it’s so dangerous, when you let it get out of control. It’s… it’s looking at something or someone and saying I like that thing so much, I want it all to myself. I want it always, I want it to be mine. And that’s selfish. [ shakily ] And for a person who tries really damn hard to be good, and virtuous, it’s amazing how much of a contradiction I can be. Perfect and polished on the outside, but one crack from breaking to pieces on the inside. Acting like I care about Christian values, about helping others, when it took me way longer than anybody else to determine that even showing up for someone else could be the right choice if it put me in any sort of jeopardy. Being so consumed by this thing that’s supposed to be the most powerful good there is, consumed by love, but somehow twisting it into a selfish thing. Loving but with conditions attached, keeping it secret, holding that love so tightly in my grip that they can’t even remember how to move freely anymore. All because I’m selfish, and I’m a coward. I’m so scared of the truth -- of who I am, the selfishness and… and being gay --

The moment passes without consequence, but Eric doesn’t overlook the importance of the statement. It’s the first time Charlie has openly stated his sexuality, and the first time he’s shared it with someone by his own choice.

Charlie: -- that I’m constantly running, only now I realize I’ve been dragging everyone else along behind me while I do it. I’m running, and running, and they’re the ones getting the bruises and the scuffs and the dirt while I get to maintain my squeaky clean, inoffensive persona. [ a deep breath ] And I don’t want to be that way. I’m done being that way... but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.

Eric thanks Charlie for sharing all of that with him, and delicately states that he has to admit he thinks he is being too hard on himself. Everything Charlie is experiencing is a pretty universal human sensation, at one point or another. It’s definitely good to recognize you have faults, but to flip the script and make yourself the inevitable villain at every turn won’t help anyone either.

Eric: You’re not a saint, Charlie. You’re human, and part of being human is being imperfect. Making mistakes, hurting others, making the same mistakes again.

Charlie wipes at his eyes, not even realizing he’s crying until the tears are on his cheeks.

Eric: Acknowledging those mistakes is the first step -- and it seems like you’ve mastered that. What matters most is what you do to repair those mistakes, and that just comes down to a whole other series of choices.

Active choices. Choosing to be good, to care about others and help whenever you can. Charlie absorbs this, accepting the tissue Eric hands him with an embarrassed laugh.

All of that aside… Eric curiously asks what Charlie thinks about the Haverford offer. He went out for the opportunity at first because he was scared -- a mistake, it seems, in his eyes. But all that matters is what he does next… so what is he thinking about that?

Charlie lists all the pros and cons he’s been weighing in the last couple months. The chance to start new, to prove himself capable, to try something new and grow in a different way -- versus the home and family he’s built at AAA. The bananas chaos he’s grown fond of, and the people he doesn’t want to leave. Especially that...

Charlie: I started this whole thing because I messed up with the person I love the most, and I wanted to escape the consequences. [ a beat ] But now… I’m still being selfish. Because I thought I was setting him free, letting him go, but somehow I’m still holding him back. It’s like… as long as I’m here, and we’re together, I’m never going to let go of that leash. I don’t want it to be that way. I don’t want to leave, but… I don’t want to let this keep going.

Eric processes this. It’s a tricky situation, that’s for sure, especially while Charlie is in such a harsh emotional place.

Then, a lightbulb seems to go off in Eric’s head. He’s hesitant to speak on it, but Charlie can sense the change in his expression.

Charlie: You have an idea. [ expectant ] What are you thinking?

Eric pauses, still hesitant. Having this conversation with another student seems like a lot to ask… but all Charlie wants is to accomplish something exactly like this. Despite being torn, Eric forces himself to speak up.

Eric: I’m just thinking… no solution will be perfect. I can tell you that with certainty. But if you’re willing to consider it… I think we might be able to solve more than one problem if we work together. Are you good with that?

Silence hangs over them as Charlie contemplates, running through all of the possibilities in his head as he’s so well-trained to do. Then, something in his expression hardens.

Active choices. Helping others, even when it’s inconvenient for yourself. Especially then.

Charlie, with a nod: Tell me what I can do.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

The board has reassembled, Evelyn rising to address the room. It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Missy and her father seem relaxed, prepared for victory -- Lucas and Jack are experts at restraint, expressions neutral and braced for the worst.

Evelyn gives a short speech about how odd and unique this whole experience has been in the long history of her career as a school board member. She’s honestly had an opinion of her own basically since this story first dropped, but as top member of the board she places a deep value in letting each of her fellow delegates get the chance to speak their mind. It’s a principle she highly regards, a precedent she intends to set in stone.

That being said, both cases raised important and interesting points. There’s a lot of subjects raised during discussion today that might warrant more conversation in the future, and because of that it’s no surprise to her that the vote was so closely split.

Lucas grits his teeth, clenching his fist on his knee. Jack gently reaches over and touches his wrist, getting him to unclench his grip.

Evelyn: So, let’s allow this to set a precedent as well. In a 5-4 vote… the school board has voted in favor of Adams and Principal Jackson Hunter.

A wave of surprise crashes through the room. Lucas and Jack are both surprised, watching Evelyn with wide eyes.

Evelyn: A decision was made, and to allow Miss Bradford into the school by the means presented today would set an example the school board ultimately does not wish to support. Lucas James Friar, enjoy your senior year at Adams Academy for the Arts. [ nonchalantly ] This meeting is adjourned.

Anne Marie is disgusted, obviously miffed that emotion was the winning maneuver. Missy looks about ready to throw a hissy fit, and Carson is already placating her.

Lucas and Jack both get to their feet, and for a moment, it seems as though they might do something insane like hug. But Jack settles for a bracing shoulder pat instead, the smile on his face wholly genuine.

Jack: Looking forward to one more year.

Lucas scoffs out a laugh, still stuck in disbelief. He blankly states that he has to go tell the others -- he’s got to tell Dora and Asher and Dylan. Jack nods him onward and lets him go, Lucas disappearing through the doors.

EXT. AAA - DAY

The crowd has grown restless, awaiting any sort of news. Zay has his arm around Riley, comforting her as her nerves start to overcome her resolve.

Dave pushes through the doors, all attention to turning to him. He pauses for a long second, and then pumps his fist in victory when he claims they won. Lucas isn’t going anywhere -- and the people prevailed!

It’s instant revelry. The assembled crowd erupts into cheers, transitioning right into celebration. Zay and Riley hug, the former picking her up and spinning her. The A class performers embrace and jump around. Maya lets out a theatrical war cry.

Farkle and Isadora embrace, only realizing that’s weird until they’re a few seconds into it. Farkle pulls back and clears his throat, Isadora stating she should text her mom the good news. He nods, agreeing that she should do that. She steps away, shifting her focus to her phone.

The last response she got from Valerie was a couple days ago, encouraging her to fight the good fight and to let her know everything that happens. Isadora has given her updates since then, but she sends this update with an excited flourish.

INT. AAA - LECTURE HALL - DAY

Evelyn approaches, congratulating Jack on a fight well fought. She had little doubt he would pull through, of course, and she’s always greatly admired his strong belief system... it’s a wonder who that deciding vote came down to…

Still, even in the midst of the celebration, Evelyn has to deliver a caution. She drops her voice down to a murmur, warning Jack that the stunt he pulled today isn’t going to just evaporate. The other school board members who voted against him are not pleased, and there will be consequences for the way he handled it.

Pointedly, Jefferson Graham and Harrison Yancy send a pointed glare in his direction as they discuss amongst themselves. Jack swallows, disappointed but not surprised.

Evelyn: Questions have risen as to how Adams is run, Jackson. [ empathetically ] You need to prepare for a whole lot of change.

Well, that’s pleasant and not ominous at all. Off of Jack’s bittersweet expression…

EXT. AAA - DAY

For how all-consuming the Bradford debacle was the day before, it’s impressive how quickly life returns to a state of equilibrium. The formerly crowded and riotous scene of student protest is calm and clean come Friday morning, the school year scheduled to wrap up as normal in the last couple of days next week. As if nothing happened, like life has proceeded as normal this entire time.

But it did happen. History was made at AAA, and no one is likely to forget it any time soon. As for what happens next…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Farkle is at his locker, getting the chance to clean it out this year. He takes delicate care to put his photos of his friends safely away in the front pocket of his backpack. As Nigel and Yogi pass him in the hall, they offer him friendly pats on the back and the promise to catch him in class. Still a couple performances and classes left to round out the year.

And boy, what a year it has been. Farkle takes in the halls around him, remembering how for a while there, there was a real chance he was never going to come back into these halls. Grateful, it seems, that he’s still there.

Isadora approaches, leaning against the locker next to him. She states how weird it is that so much can happen one day, and then school can just proceed as normal the next.

Farkle: Well, only a couple more days of that. For now.

Isadora: It’s just strange. How quickly things change. Instantaneous, really.

No doubt about that. After a moment, Isadora shifts topics and thanks Farkle for his testimony. She figures it probably wasn’t easy for him to come to that decision, given their history. Obviously, there’s no way to know if it really made a difference… but it was something. He spoke up, in a moment where it might’ve really mattered. Farkle shrugs, thoughtful.

Farkle: You know, this time last year, everything fell apart because I made a selfish move. I was thinking of me, just me, and I sure paid the consequences for that. [ a beat ] A lot has changed since then, but it’s easy to say things have changed rather than prove it. A theory needs evidence to be proven, after all.

Isadora: Naturally.

Farkle: Can’t know for sure without repeated trials, but… I figure choosing to make the choice that wasn’t directly beneficial to me is probably a good sample of evidence. My hypothesis is that things held together because we held together. [ certain ] And I’ll take that conclusion over last year’s any day.

Isadora examines him, a smile that might be described as fond creeping onto her face. Farkle closes his locker, raising his eyebrows at her before leading the way down the hall.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Delicate” as performed by Damien Rice || Performed by Asher Garcia (feat. Dylan Orlando)

Yes, classes are still in session for a few more days, and there are still some lingering final performances to wrap up. Asher performs the ballad as his final project, bending the rules just slightly so that Dylan can be up there with him to back him up. No one tries to argue him on it -- Dylan and Asher are undeniably better together, after all.

Dylan sits behind him on a stool, playing the acoustic guitar. Asher’s vocals are soft, imbued with a sense of peace it feels like we haven’t felt all season. As the other orchestration comes into play, Haley, Clarissa, and Nigel are backing him on the strings instruments for the full effect.

The performance also doubles as the score for the next scene, setting the mood aptly...

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - DAY

Riley is fighting with the protest signs, attempting to put them in the large closet in the teacher’s lounge for safe-keeping. But they’re hard to handle all on her own, and there’s a lot of them, and only so much closet space. The unglamorous part of an impassioned protest -- the clean-up.

Lucas pokes his head into the doorway, grateful to have found her. He asks what she’s doing and she jumps, just looking at him for a moment. Soaking up the fact that he’s still there -- that he gets to still be there, for at least a while longer. Then she clears her throat, explaining her battle with the posters and signs.

Riley: Eric said we should keep them, for posterity and all that, and also because you never know when you’ll have another student protest. Reduce, reuse, recycle.

Lucas: Sure.

Riley: And I was in total agreement, but now that I’m here actually trying to get them all to stay put…

Lucas: Do you want some help?

Riley blinks. Surprised by the offer, even though she doesn’t know why. She shouldn’t be, not from him.

Riley: Sure. Sure, that would be great.

Lucas comes over to join her, rolling up his sleeves and helping tackle the stubborn protest memorabilia. They manage to complete the task as a team, stuffing it all into the closet and shutting the door firmly to seal it inside.

Riley: Wouldn’t want to be the teacher who opens that at the start of next term.

Lucas laughs, earning a bashful smile from Riley. There’s a lingering moment between them, and then Lucas asks why Riley went to so much effort in the first place.

Lucas: You really didn’t have to do all that.

Riley: I know. I don’t have to do anything. [ off his eye roll ] But of course I did. I wasn’t going to just do nothing.

Fair enough, but not exactly an explanation. When Lucas eyes her expectantly, she sighs, crossing her arms and shrugging. Knowing he can tell there’s more to it, but not sure there’s a way to articulate it.

Riley: It just wasn’t right. Everything they were doing. Putting you on blast to gain something for themselves, exploiting your personal difficulties for themselves --

Lucas: Well, hard to say I didn’t get myself into that.

Riley: But you didn’t deserve it, Lucas. No one deserves to be treated that way, even you. [ a beat, then softer ] Especially you.

That’s certainly a new take. Lucas absorbs the sentiment, holding her gaze. Trying to believe, for the first time, that maybe she’s right.

She looks away first, overwhelmed by the moment. She shrugs her shoulders again, still searching for what to say. The longer she rambles, the softer Lucas’s expression grows.

Riley: And I mean, they were just going to kick you out. And for what? Again, no one should have to worry about something like that, but… I mean, it’s you. And this is your home. [ a beat ] This is your home, and I wasn’t just going to let them take it from you.

Lucas, thoughtful: … I don’t think home is a place.

Riley lifts her gaze, meeting his eyes. Lucas lingers in looking at her for a moment longer, really looking at her… and then he closes the distance between them, pulling her into a kiss.

It takes a moment for Riley to catch up with what’s happening, almost in disbelief. But that only lasts a second, and she initiates the next kiss with double the enthusiasm and zero hesitation.

It’s about damn time.

They get lost in it, Riley wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They stumble a bit and back into the closet door, taking a moment to ground themselves. Still close together, foreheads touching, breathing shallow as they catch their breath.

Riley opens her eyes, taking him in while he’s so close and right there in front of her. Finally in her grasp, after the longest wait in the world.

Then, she laughs. Quiet, relieved, genuinely happy.

Lucas mirrors her smile, looking away shyly. Riley tilts his head back towards her to give him another slow kiss, which he happily accepts.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Dylan finishes out the last few riffs of the song, Asher watching him fondly with his chin propped on the microphone. He plays the last chord, then lifts his head to lock eyes with him. Dylan gives him a loving smile, pride shining in his eyes.

As it should be.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack finishes throwing out the last of the Bradford materials, settling down in his desk chair. He takes a moment to look around at his office… and then releases a sigh. Finally getting to breathe, after holding his breath for what feels like months.

Eric knocks lightly on his door, leaning against the doorframe and congratulating him.

Eric: I didn’t know you were a lawyer.

Jack: Ha ha ha… so very funny…

Eric can’t help but grin. Jack thanks him for all of his help -- he would not have been able to get through it without him.

Eric: Well, don’t give me too much credit. I’m not exactly a legal expert --

Jack: I’m not just talking about that, Eric.

Oh. Well… oh. If that doesn’t sum up how joined their work is, how this place really only runs because of one another… Eric nods bashfully, accepting the compliment. A moment lingers between them, but it’s not heavy. It’s something light, refreshing… something new between them, even if they don’t quite know how to define it yet.

Even still, Jack claims the show must go on. He highly doubts Missy Bradford is just going to let this thing die out -- considering all the trouble she went to this time around, he doesn’t see her giving up the crusade so easily. What baby wants, baby gets…

As it turns out, that’s something Eric wanted to talk to Jack about. He actually may have discovered a different compromise while Jack was going to court… not ideal, by any stretch of the imagination, but… Jack straightens up, curious and concerned.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The A class is assembled, and it’s pointed just how different the energy in the room feels compared to the start of the year. There’s a real sense of camaraderie amongst them that was never there before, and the mood is light as they all chat before they’re dismissed.

That spirit only brightens when Riley and Lucas come through the door… holding hands. For a second everyone simply absorbs the sight… then Dylan gets to his feet, starting a slow clap. Dave joins in and before long the entire class is sarcastically applauding, Yogi wolf-whistling. Riley shakes her head and bites back a smile as she leads the way to their seats, Lucas flipping the techie crew off as they go.

Harper and Shawn take the stage, genuinely congratulating the class for getting through this hell year. It was tough -- for all of them, as the look Shawn and Harper exchange indicates -- but they survived it. They stretched themselves, they learned some hard lessons, and they grew stronger for it. They raised their voices, and it made a difference. The class breaks into applause again, Zay leaning forward to jostle Riley on the shoulder.

And with that, there’s not much more to say… except it’s a total mystery what the hell senior year will dish for them. There’s one more announcement they need to give… only it’s not their announcement to make. Harper passes the focus to Charlie, gesturing him forward as she and Shawn give him the floor.

Maya: [ under her breath, to Isadora ] I’m still trying to figure out when we gave him speaking privileges...?

The class is obviously at a loss for what Charlie could possibly be about to say. He’s never been one for grand gestures, but he’s up there now, addressing the full room of them. He starts by once again shouting out Riley and Isadora for the effort they put into the protest, and he mentions how inspiring it was to be a part of it and see what it really means to be selfless. To give so much of your time and energy to something you care about, not because it benefits you, but because it’s the right thing to do.

He’s also really happy that Lucas will get to stay at Adams.

Charlie: You’re a big part of the reason this class is as good as it is -- I mean, you all are. And God… is it a good class. Best thing I’ve ever been a part of by far. It’s no wonder Missy Bradford wanted in so badly.

From his tone, people are starting to get concerned. Haley and Clarissa are watching him curiously, wondering what’s going on. Riley frowns.

Riley: Charlie?

Charlie: Missy wanted to get into Triple A, and she wasn’t going to just stop at Lucas. I think we all know that. But the good news is, she’s not going to be coming after anyone else. [ a beat ] Missy isn’t going to come for anyone else’s spot in the senior class, because she’s taking mine. I’ll be transferring to Haverford Prep, starting in the fall.

The reaction from the A class is stunned, then uproarious. All of them protest, ranging from shocked outbursts to outright denials. Charlie tries to get them to calm down, trying to keep everything from derailing.

Dave: This rich bitch is begging to get egged.

Charlie shouts over them, getting them to pull it back together. He speaks with all the confidence he can muster, trying to be strong.

Charlie: It’s good, okay? It’s gonna be good. I think… I think the change will be good for me. And this way, no one else has to deal with the Bradfords --

Nate: Until we have to deal with her every day.

Clarissa: Yeah, Charlie, this isn’t fair. You’re part of the A class. You belong here.

Maybe so, Clarissa. Maybe so. Charlie’s facade cracks for the first time, hesitating when he tries to figure out how to respond.

Charlie, quietly: Sometimes the right thing isn’t always fair. But I want to do this. I’m making the choice… even if it’s not ideal for me.

It’s clear there will be no arguing this. He’s made up his mind, making the most selfless choice he thinks he possibly could by letting them go.

Charlie: But I asked Miss Burgess if it would be okay for me to do my final performance for you guys, even though it’s supposed to be one-on-one. If it was going to be my last one, I… I wanted to share it with you.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Take Care of Yourself” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by Charlie Gardner

And what a final AAA performance he gives. Charlie effectively uses his swan song as a goodbye, his gentle and unassuming tenor creating the exact right feeling like a comforting hug. Even though all of them are stunned and some of his classmates are in tears -- as is he, by the end of the rendition -- he gives the distinct feeling that everything is going to be okay. It won’t be the same, but it will be okay. And that has to be enough.

He shares small moments with each of his major classmates -- Yindra, and Nigel. He accepts a tight hug from Clarissa. He shakes his head fondly at Haley as he sings the lyrics “no more tears to cry, I’m out of goodbyes,” wiping some of the tears from her cheeks.

She’s not the only one in tears. When he gets to Riley it gets harder to get through the performance, his voice cracking on the falsetto a bit as he takes her hand. She squeezes it tightly, mouthing an I love you before he pulls away. She shifts and hides her head in Lucas’s shoulder, who is still in complete disbelief.

By the time he gets back to the front and swivels to face them all again, there’s only one person left to address.

Zay has been silent the entire time, totally out of words. He’s just staring at Charlie, tears slipping down his cheeks even though it’s like he doesn’t know they’re there. He can’t process it. He can’t believe it’s actually happening.

But Charlie looks right at him as he sings the last set of lines, the eye contact deliberate and full of meaning.

Take care of yourself, I love you.

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - DAY

In spite of the emotional whammy, there’s still plenty to celebrate. Another year around the bend, the fact that Lucas isn’t going to have to return to Quincy. No one is going to be absolutely decimated by Bradford money, so the junior A class has gathered at the local diner to celebrate the victory.

The techies share in a group toast, cheering the fact that the original odd octet are going into senior year still a united front. Dylan and Asher make a special toast to Lucas, eternally grateful that their fearless leader wasn’t brutally taken from them by the claws of capitalism.

Dave: A-fucking-men.

Jade also adds an addition to the toast, signaling out Isadora for all the effort she put into the protest effort. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed, and while things aren’t completely all right and in order between her and the techie crew, it seems as though they’ll be able to repair things in the end.

She’s pulled from the moment by her phone ringing, recognizing Valerie’s number and eagerly going to take the call. She tells Lucas she’ll be right back, going into the back to answer.

They’ve made a great victory… but a victory they really only have because Charlie took the fall. Zay says as much, not nearly in the same high spirits as he sits across from Riley. She’s torn, caught between the elation of Lucas not having to leave and the reality of her good friend volunteering to sacrifice his spot instead. Charlie, pointedly, is not in attendance.

She questions if Zay really had no idea, if Charlie really didn’t say anything. He shakes his head, obviously embittered. Nothing about Haverford, nothing about the possibility, and definitely nothing about actually making the decision.

Zay: No. No, he didn’t. And now he’s not even here to face it. [ sharply ] He’s just… gone.

Oof. Riley reaches across the table and takes his hand, offering whatever comfort she can.

Still, celebration. Lots of things to celebrate! Maya makes her way over to Lucas, pithily congratulating him on still somehow managing to evade cosmic consequence for his overall general existence.

Maya: It seems you and I get to enjoy one more glorious year of barely tolerating one another.

Lucas: Oh, just what I was looking forward to the very most.

Maya: It’ll be even better now, considering you’ll be swapping spit with my roommate whenever possible. [ off his disturbed expression ] Yeah, speaking of, it would be peachy if you two could not do that in our shared bedroom. Just, you know, common courtesy.

Maya lecturing anyone about courtesy is a laugh riot, but Lucas just wants this conversation to end. As he points out, maybe they’ll get to avoid it anyway, right? If all goes as planned, she’ll be moving in with Isadora, and they’ll never have to cross paths outside of the AAA auditorium. Ever. And they should never speak of this again.

Speaking of, Maya asks where Isadora wandered off to. Lucas nods towards the back room, claiming she said she’d be back after she talked to her mom.

Well, it’s been a hot minute since she left to do that. Sure, there’s a lot to fill her in on, but Maya is nothing if not nosy. Besides, she’s not going to pass up the chance to jump in on a conversation with Valerie De La Cruz. Maya makes her way towards the back to look for her.

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - BACK ROOM - NIGHT

Maya pokes her head in to the back area, peering around for Isadora. She manages to find her sitting on an overturned bucket in the corner of the room, no longer on the phone. She questions what she’s still doing back here when the party is out there -- and did she miss the call with Val?

Isadora doesn’t respond. She’s staring into space, expression totally blank. Maya grows concerned when she realizes her phone is at her feet, screen shattered after hitting the concrete flooring.

Maya: Izzy?

She comes over to kneel in front of her, asking what’s wrong. Isadora still doesn’t speak, almost like she’s frozen. Maya gently touches her knee.

Maya: Izzy, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.

For another long moment, silence. Then she manages to speak, the words coming out numb.

Isadora: My mom is dead.

The words hit like a freight train. Maya stares at her, stunned, the revelation slowly sinking in.

END OF EPISODE.

[pollylynn]

Title: Camera Ready WC: 1100

She has a rough night. Not the fun kind. She’s not exactly sleepless. She nods off in that utterly exhausted sort of way and jerks awake every few minutes. And every time, she feels like she’s in the middle of running a marathon—a naked marathon, and her hair is wet, and that’s a huge, terrifying problem. And she’s on a mud track that’s also a down escalator, when she needs to go up, and her phone won’t dial, and anyway, she has no idea who it is she’s supposed to be calling. 

In other words, she’s riddled with anxiety dreams. 

She rolls over and punches the pillow, hard, at the very thought. He stirs beside her and there’s some hope for a brief moment that she can turn this rough night around, as it were, but he abandons her. He simply grabs a fistful of blankets, hikes them up defensively to his chin, and huffs as he rolls on to his side, away from her restless shenanigans.  

Anxiety dreams. It’s ridiculous. She doesn’t do those. She does full-on, soul-excavating, wake-up-howling nightmares about her mom, about the shooting. A cast of characters rotates through those scenarios—her dad murdered, Castle shot, Ryan, Lanie, Esposito, all of them dead one way or another, ultimately at Bracken’s hand, and the bastard smiles smugly out at her on a live Oval Office broadcast. So yeah, she does nightmares, and she does deep, dreamless sleep. She does not do anxiety dreams. 

Except tonight, she does. Nudity features prominently. Her own, certainly—and once again, not the fun kind—but everyone else’s too. Butterly is freezing on the tundra in her ratty bra and panties and she—Kate—can’t find the horse she needs to save the poor young woman. Esposito’s shirt keeps dissolving, or stretching into shreds, Hulk style. He keeps asking everyone why the Hulk can’t be brown. Lanie’s revealing top reveals all, mid-autopsy, and absolutely no one should operate a bone saw in a push-up bra. 

It cycles like that all damned night. When she runs out of fingers and toes are going fast, she stops counting the number of times she’s started awake with a shout caught in her throat. It finally hits the tipping point where it’s not even worth trying again. 

She tears the blankets from her body and hisses at the cold air of her bedroom. She slams her hand against the clock to cancel the alarm and rips her phone from the charger roughly enough that she’s probably bent the cord. 

She goes to the kitchen for coffee and there’s no coffee. There will be coffee . . . sometime  that is not now. It’s set to auto brew and the stupid machine is about as complex as the Large Hadron Collider to operate, and no amount of button mashing will make it brew now, or even reveal to her the mystical time he has it set to brew so that her feet never hit the floor before the steaming mug is safely in her grasp. 

She snarls something nonsensical at the damned machine and stomps off toward he shower instead. She shuts the bathroom door tight and cranks the hot water on. She wants it steamy. She’s still shivering, and now that she thinks about it, that’s his fault, too. He had one of those stupid “smart” thermostats installed, so the heat won’t kick on until . . . whenever she usually gets up? She stands, holding the towel bar, almost literally unable to summon the energy to step into the stream of water that’s just the pleasant side of scalding. 

She finally musters the will to swing her leg over the tall edge of the tub, but she shrinks back from the water. She’s suddenly seized with the memory of wet hair provoking a horrible sense of dread. She manages to get a hold of herself, though. She manages to shower like a normal person. 

She whisks the shower curtain back and he’s there—he’s right there—with his hair sticking up every which way and her coffee in his hand. 

“Up early,” he yawns. 

He’s still too heavy with sleep to have much of a reaction to the Whitney Houston–range scream that exits her body. It’s a good thing, considering the coffee, but it annoys her. The obviously solid night of sleep he’d managed to get annoys her. 

He waits patiently for her to wrap the towel around herself, then presses the mug into her hand, 

“Preening?” He asks with a waggle of his eyebrows. He crowds up behind her in the mirror. “Ready for your close-up, Detective Beckett?” 

She’s downing coffee too quickly for it to be sensible at that temperature. She’s yanking the brush through her wet hair with brutal force, and he is definitely not reading the room. She slams the mug down hard enough on the vanity that she fully expects her life’s blood to start seeping out through hairline cracks. She whirls to face him. 

“No. I am not ready for my close up.” She gestures with the brush, violently and close enough to his face that he staggers back a step or two. “I am not pulling out my extra low-cut top or my three-sizes-too-small henley. I’m not going to strip down to my underwear and lock myself in a closet so a camera crew can find me. I am not preening for some VH-1 Behind the Music wannabes.” 

Her pitch, her intensity, her volume, climb and and climb until it’s all gone. The rage is gone and she just feels anxious, and she hates it. He blinks at her for what feels like a full half minute. She can hear the wheels churning through images her rant has called up. A dreamy expression flits across his face and she knows—she knows—he’s thinking about Lanie’s top. 

She’s going to kill him. She is just about to spring into action and kill him, when he has her suddenly around the waist. 

“Definitely not preening,” he says, his voice low and seductive. With some deceptively simple flick of his fingers, her towel falls away. “But you know what’ll really show those wannabes?” He backs her into the vanity. He hooks a hand under each of her thighs and hoists her up on to it with a move that ought to be incompatible with how sleepy he still looks. “If you show up downright  . . . disheveled.” 

“Disheveled,” she repeats faintly. He’s already on the job and it’s hard to think. “That’ll show ‘em.”  

A/N: Wardrobes are objects, right? Hmmm. 

images via homeofthenutty

[theoddores-archive]

ALEX FITZALAN? No, that’s actually THEODORE BURKE  from universe 6. You know, the child of MERRICK BURKE and ESME BURKE (NÉE FLINT)? Only 18 years old, this RAVENCLAW alumni works as a CLERK/MANAGEMENT TRAINEE AT BORGIN AND BURKES. HE identifies as CIS-MAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be FLIPPANT, BOISTEROUS, and EGOTISTICAL but also STAUNCH, VIBRANT, and ARTISTIC. — &&. ( CAMI, GMT+1, SHE/HER, 20. )

“ i hope you’re proud of me. i took all the awful things they did and turned them into empathy. i hope you’re proud of me. i may have let their poison under my skin, but i let it drip out of my fingers as poetry. “

depression tw, drugs tw, suicide tw

THE BURKES

old money, old names, old houses - although their name was proudly featured in the list of sacred pureblood families, kept pure throughout the ages, the burkes were never truly a part of that group. their ancestry was foggy, with no dusty records of alliances and ministry positions. their wealth was sufficient, yes, but never in the expected way. the oldest record of a burke they could relate to the present family was a healer of little consequence, and the rest mostly worked for others, especially under the great names they supposedly considered their equal. to marry a burke wasn’t treason, but it was a step down, the acceptance of an insignificant and middle-class life.

the family wealth grew when, in 1863, they partnered with the borgins to establish a shop in knockturn alley. their business? buying and reselling wizarding artifacts, mostly belonging to other more reputable families. the burke’s most potent claim to fame and respect was to be the money-hungry keeper of the deeds and inventories of their superiors. that stigma still accompanies the family to this day, anchoring them in a position of clerkship to the other great families - the burkes are not able to make their own history, so they buy and sell others’ for what they’d consider small change.

nevertheless, it has put them in the public conscience, even if negatively. the shop has grown over the last nearly two centuries, but has remained strongly in the families’ hands, leaving at least two people per generation stuck with the store. borgin and burkes is where people from all walks of life can attempt to sell their latest steal or inheritance, and where one may find the cursed objects capable to cause all sorts of pain, death, misery. the burkes may be inferior, but they are resourceful and plenty useful. their contacts with the criminal underground of the wizarding world and their possession of dark magic objects turned them into a desirable addition to extremist movements, even if never in positions of high power. grindelwald’s army did lead to half the family being imprisoned, some dying while evading capture. and some years later, the remaining burke’s gave a chance to a young man who would not forget the name he had worked under for nearly a decade. the job gave tom riddle a public justification for his search of knowledge in areas of magic so nefarious that no other place would allow for them to be explored but borgin and burkes. when he finished his ascent from man to power, he kept in mind those names. the recently graduated children of his employer, who he’d watched grow up, got the promotion of their lives, with a mark on their arm and a mask over their faces. and later, when their dark lord returned, it was their children’s turn.

merrick burke didn’t share the devotion of his elders, but certainly felt the same gratitude. to be picked, from all possible choices, to join the forces of the new era was, once again, the promotion he would have never dreamt of. in a perfect world, he’d have remained in the store, mostly dealing with finances as he’d always preferred, a quiet life that would leave barely more than a footnote in the writings of history. but how could he refuse such an offer? the man took the mark immediately, ready to pledge his all to the cause. but when their second attempt failed and died at hogwarts, merrick retreated to the store, forever hiding the lines on his skin. his girlfriend, esme flint, did the same, and their short-lived part in the second rise of the dark lord faded from memory. between then and the reformation of the death eaters, the couple married, devoted themselves to the shop and to evading association with their previous criminal activities, vowed to never speak of the darkest things they’ve done, and had two children.

BEFORE

born on august 13th, 2008, theodore talbot burke was brought into a peaceful world. the small cottage in upper flagley made up most of his existence for a few years. the world of impressive estates and ancient manors was the stuff of books and the occasional wedding or birthday celebration of some family friend, or acquaintance from his parents “old job”. the young boy’s loud personality made it possible, however, for even those encounters to grant him friendships he held dear, even when he was stuck in his small village. 

while upper flagley was mostly wizard populated, a handful of muggle families had settled there as well, and sometimes lines would be crossed. he’d climb a tree with a child that needed plasters and doctors should they fall. some kid from down the street would ask him to come play video games. while theodore didn’t mind them much, it was a chore to keep up with the other kids’ references and be mindful to not mention his parents’ store or words such as ‘wand’ and ‘spell’. his parents seem to share the same feeling, often mentioning during dinner that their realities were simply too different for such close-quarters coexistence. as such, theodore preferred the wizards in his village and in the big houses far away from upper flagley, with whom talking and relating to was simply EASIER. 

hogwarts was the adventure theodore had been craving for ever since he could remember. it was bigger and much more interesting than the broken clock that was upper flagley. it was a place where he could spend all of his time with the types of people he actually liked, those whose experiences were the same as him, with no fears of saying something he should not say. in many aspects, it was a reinvention. at last, he could attempt to become the person he’d rather be, full-time. one single train ride was enough for him to make sure most people his year at least knew his face, as he popped in to chat for a while. the sight of the castle came with a clear indication: he was finally somewhere big enough to contain all of him. 

his energy quickly had him dubbed as the wannabe class clown, evidenced in the story of how the burke boy, while playing around in the small boat that’d led them across the lake and pretending to be their legendary sea captain, tripped and fell into the water.

theodore was sorted rather into the ravenclaw house without much pondering by the hat, and that made sense to him. his mother was the smartest person he knew, and she owned more books than he could recall. his father was a genius with numbers. he’d certainly get his chance to prove his intelligence at hogwarts. the first year was a rude awakening.

try as he might, the boy seemed to lack behind in most things. in a highly individualistic group such as the ravenclaws, he found himself more and more alone in times of need. sure, theo was funny, he’d make the entire classroom giggle; he’d entertain the dorm room until near dawn; yet his connections felt hollow. he wasn’t very book smart. his house felt less and less like home - perhaps the hat had made a mistake. maybe he was a gryffindor like his mother, or a slytherin like his father. 

during his second year, theo was louder, more boisterous, a bit too much for some people’s tastes. what he lacked in grades and proper friendships, he made up in STAGE presence. it was near impossible to not notice when theo was sitting right next to you, or even in the same room. he tried out for the quidditch team (and failed), and ended up joining a few extracurriculars to fill his time with things he could actually be good at, since education was certainly not it. years of learning the violin with his neighbor, an elderly witch who’d done some tours with some forgotten orchestras, came in handy when he joined the hogwarts orchestra (although he only ever got truly good at it during his third year, with intensive practice - something he learned rather late was needed if he was to succeed, and yet he rarely applies to anything else). the debate club became one of his favourite activities, it being an outlet for the endless bite in him, to the constant need in theo to say something back until only he could have the final word. without realising it, he expanded his skills into things he could actually do. creativity. music. spontaneity. an ability to think on his feet at all times. a pompous nearly-suave way of being.

theodore’s path in life seemed to finally be taking shape. to add to the joy, after over a decade of struggling, the burkes at last brought to the world another child and, for the rest of the school year, that was all theo could talk about. philippa, philippa, philippa. to this day she’s his favourite being in the whole world and he cares about her so much!!

understanding that there’s more to him than just academic failure was truly the beginning of a constant discovery process of who theodore burke really was. the only class he usually got better than passing (or even failing) grades was DADA, which most attributed to all the knowledge he’d gain by working summers at his family’s store, or simply by living in a house decorated with priceless dark arts artifacts. he’d always showed a lot of curiosity in his family’s line of work, never as an ambition but as a hobby - magic, in all its glory and power, regardless of the confines of the law, always seemed to put a smile on his lips. being in possession of such items was a slippery slope of power and a rush he never really understood.

a big part of that self-discovery was a conversation his parents had with him during one summer, when he asked them in the middle of the store why they hid their dark marks. while not the most astute of people, a fourteen year old theo knew enough about the dark lord who’d terrified the world, and his many followers. he’d seen enough pictures from trials and attacks in some books, even heard incredible and terrible stories of their deeds. knew and cared about people whose families had been tremendously impacted by the dark lord. the kernels of ideology he’d been catching all his life came together at the kitchen table later that day, when he was told of the generous and righteous man who’d attempted to make a new world time and time again, for which the rest were simply not prepared. it wasn’t exactly an hostile story, but rather one of a rebel that kept being taken down by the establishment. the darker deeds the burkes themselves had been involved in? necessary evils. an escalation of events easily preventable had the ministry done something more. there were certain ideas and needs for separation that some refused to accept and, tragically, they’d forced their hands. esme and merrick were not proud, but what soldier doesn’t carry guilt? that does not deem their cause unworthy. 

it was a stark contrast. the loud boy that played the violin and made paper planes with his unfinished exam sheets. the legacy of a revolutionary line that was waiting for its new leader.

he digested it the only way he knew how - by sharing his experience to those who understood him. that group kept getting smaller, and by the middle of his seventh year, it was mostly those who carried the same expectation to join the ranks as soon as their leader returned to continue the war. some bits of it all made sense, but the main attraction for theo was the sense of belonging. he wasn’t really absorbing the ideology or the notion that voldemort had been the good guy. instead, he was understanding the feeling of comraderie his family had felt and he longed for it more than ever. he believed they were all misguided, on both sides, and generally put little thought into it. war, violence, hatred, anti-muggleborn laws? all terrible concepts to him, but that didn’t stop him from being drawn to the people within it all - always for their human side.  and he was also fulfilling a role that had started many years before, making his family proud. for once, he didn’t need to be louder than life to be heard, even if there was a clear hierarchy he refused to see - breaking an illusion was indeed a hard task.

the dissonance caused him great confusion. still struggling to understand his very own moral compass, theo finished his final year at hogwarts with tragedy. suddenly the big question was no longer what the orchestra should play for the christmas concert or what he’d do after hogwarts before he resigned to his faith of working at knockturn alley. no. it was who to turn to as his world shifted more than it ever had. there was little room for choice. the ones he’d gotten the closest to in the previous few years, those who understood the weight of his burden. the stakes were so damn high.

by trying so hard to fit into the pureblooded elite group, he’d pushed away most other people. some had also simply turned around when it was clear he was too far gone. in many aspects, theodore felt as if the world around him had become rather narrow, pushing him towards a single path with no way back ( despite the fact that a lot of that had been his own doing during his downwards spiral). he tried to quickly adapt to his role as support: theo wasn’t the brightest, the strongest, the fastest, but he trained like his life depended on it, as it probably it. above all, he provided the connections long desired in a burke, and the knowledge of dark arts no seventeen year old should possess. 

how could he justify murder? outside of a battle, where it was every man for himself? he’d met some of them. he knew their children. theo struggled with the true implications of the heroic stories of rebellion that his peers and family lived off of, and that uncertainty was visible. given how he wasn’t seen as a death eater powerhouse, theo had some manoeuvre room and wasn’t held accountable quite as much as the big guns, but enough was enough. his fraternizing with whatever enemies still remembered him as a kinder boy, his shaky hand during attacks, how he always held back, even faintly protested? something didn’t seem right.

weeks before graduation, he attempted to change it all. theodore tried to subtly feel for support within his peers, with very little success, which was disheartening. his old friends weren’t much of a solution either, as he could barely look them in the eye, let alone ask for a hand getting out of the grave he’d dug. theo even tried to get some guidance from professors, but fear held him back from proper help. in his last resort, he turned to lily potter, but his attempted betrayal was discovered before he could get any sort of protection from the other side. theodore was quickly taught that treason was frowned upon, and a simple thought ingrained in his mind: if he left, there was nowhere to run to, no one to go to. was he willing to let them all go? what did he even have but them? the prospects that came with the movement? the connections, the friendships? the lesson came with a few bruises and cuts, and a lot of broken trust he has not been able to fix. the cuts healed slowly, as he was told to not use magic on them - a mark of shame for a traitor, let the world see what happens to those. feel their stares. the trust even slower. the following day they walked with him to class, a reminder of WHO was there to help him on his feet the previous night, clean the blood off his face, bring him for class even though he’d spent all night imagining what it would be like to never leave that bed alive again. who gave him class notes as they saw he’d done nothing but stare at his own hands, head far too low to even see the blackboard? who gave a shit about his sorry little treacherous self? they did. they always would. 

NOW

his total loss of direction at the very end of the year (typical) came coupled with the personal downward spiral, and theodore left hogwarts with very few friends, many enemies, and a measly Acceptable NEWT in divination. he wasn’t aiming for much anyway, but it was still quite the slap in the face. although he could understand why he’d gotten zeroes in the other two: scribbling down his name and then staring at the parchment for hours, nothing in it, his head preoccupied with anything but question number six. not showing up to the DADA oral examination. staring at his hands rather than professor lupin during the charms oral exam, as he mumbled under his breath how he didn’t know how to do what was being asked of him (somewhere forgotten inside him he swore he did, but that would have required too much of him), storming out after 15 minutes. he got lucky with divination, mostly because his oral examination led him to predict a life of empty sorrow and loneliness, collapsing into a horrible death and an unmarked grave. for a few minutes he thought he was projecting until the professor assured him that he was somewhere in the vicinity of right. while he’d talked the big talk before about all he’d do with his life after hogwarts, he ended up behind the counter at borgin and burkes a few weeks after graduation, once his dad finally managed to get him out of his room. 

in all accounts, theodore gave up. he gave up on trying to better himself, to fulfill little dreams, to get out of a group he could no longer justify. it was a brutal reality check, and one he’s not quite recovered from yet. 

due to his mishap in the recent past, theodore’s role within the now formal death eater movement is a lowly one, mostly as an errands boy who needs constant surveillance; or disposable. some of his friendships fell apart after the fact, but the few that remain still have enough pull to keep him in. in fact, up until the collision of realities, he’d been on a quick crescendo, attempting to prove himself worthy of their companionship, their trust and their acceptance. theo devoted himself to the tasks given to him, even dared to show hints of a ruthlessness that does not belong in him - but there are many lines left to cross and many people he still cannot bear face, let alone fight. 

now he’s surrounded by all the ideas of what could have been. the most jarring group of people around is the real death eaters, with their original ideology and an unbroken line to the dark lord. in many ways, they feel much more nefarious and there is nothing shrouding their agenda: no more blood impurity, even if by means of murder. he acknowledges now that the movement he’s in is flawed, wrong even (depending on the day you ask him), but at least they are nothing like them!! slowly, it is sinking in that they are all born out of the same goal and their means are quite similar. their existence is breaking the spell, as is the knowledge that other versions of him exist and might not all be hopeless. theodore is slowly realizing just how sinful his actions have been, yet he doesn’t believe he has any sort of bravery or will left in him to risk it all once more.

MORE

he found himself in verse 8 with no money but the few galleons in his pocket and no access to his vault. he panicked BIG and i’m unsure what he can do afterwards so some DE hit me up from tbh any verse that can give him a hand while he tries to convince v8 burkes to give him any job at the shop because ‘that’s all i know how to do, that’s all i’m good for’

during 6th and some of 7th year, theo dated lily potter. they’d been friends for quite some time, explosive little things that needed to have the last word and a mess from the start - but full of heart and genuine love and friendship. however, she could feel him slipping away to a group of people so morally wrong, especially in 7th year. he knew she was distancing as well, like two high speed cars doing their very best not to collide, even if their fights were incendiary. eventually, it was clear that their paths could not merge, and they broke up. in all senses, they were never made to last, but the personal changes they suffered during their time together truly made them into all different people now. he reached out for her help once, but ended up regressing into his old ways. sometimes he considers asking for it again, but how often can that hand be there? 

lily was the biggest threat to his credibility in his group before they broke up, as she came with a whole lot of friends and relatives he’d decided to care about, even if many saw his attempted true colours. she was also certainly used as proof by his betrayed peers of how the other side would always leave him. very fresh wound, very messy, he hates how much he still cares about her and her family and friends

big classical music nerd!! ever since third year he’s realised how much he loves music and his violin is truly something that brings him immense joy. he’s dabbled into other things, mostly piano, but he always comes back to his preferred instrument. there’s also a musicality to him? he enjoys adding little rhymes to sentences, or good rhythms to casual enunciation. tapping his fingers to a song in his head. that was truly the most ravenclaw thing in him, a very deep creative passion that was so often unexplored~

also musicals. he’s even gotten into some muggle ones but that’s top secret now.

there’s something quite sophisticated about him that makes his background in a vaguely established pureblood family hard to forget. big words make up his vocabulary even though he’s seen as not that bright, his posture is fixed every time he snaps out of his own mind and his collection of robes is to be admired. the biggest tell is just how disconnected he his to muggle culture, no matter how mingled both realities are by now. 

he’s quite angry? theo is not very good at dealing with his own emotions, but he’s learned with some. if he’s too happy, he doesn’t hold back, despite knowing he’ll likely crash or become too full of himself. if he’s too sad, he’ll turn off, retreat into the covers of his bed for a few days, probably cry a lot (theo is very much not afraid to cry). but if he’s furious, he simply storms, which often gets him in trouble. he’s full of fire and bad coping mechanisms. in most circumstances, theodore picks the fight, the rush of anger, the ringing of loud voices and high stakes, the attack. one word could easily make him leap into an argument, and with those he despises? wands will come out.

the MOST dramatic. has read lots of theater plays (the only thing he’ll read) and he’s that bitch. probably tried to put on some plays at hogwarts with the help of the orchestra, which he’s tried to take control over many times with little success (theo, walking into the choir room: hi this is a coup). 

he has been introduced to glee, the iconic class old tv-show and in a better verse, he’s actually watched all of it and reenacts scenes with only a little bit of sarcasm. but yall should know he’s a bit of a rachel mix with brittany and i hate him for it

argue with him. he LIVES for the chaos of an argument! but also for long soft discussions - theo could sit on the floor and talk for hours, exploring different sides and opinions. despite being dumb as rock when it comes to academic things, he functions only with curiosities and if he finds interest in something, he can become incredibly well versed in it! 

big slut nowadays and i love him for it. hello hi he needs to feel the thrill of being alive through any means possible. 

loves soft aesthetics? flowers in his messy hair, picnics in the sun, glitter on his face as a party look

has a couple piercings in his ears and likes to put dangly dainty earings on. very rare to see him without painted but incredibly chipped nails. an aesthetic

clumsy as hell. tries to be suave, and sometimes does manage it with his words, but his body language ruins it all. although in general he’s more of a funny clowny sort of guy and just very lame

theo is 120% impulse and he truly doesn’t put that much thinking into his decisions, which often leads to mess

"theo was born w no thoughts, head empty, it's his life goal to keep the streak going for as long as possible" - chewie

no reflexes

listen the burkes had money, alright. they had no fortune but they did have money. except they didn’t spend it on a bigger house or any of that, but rather in savings for later in life and for philippa and theo, stuff like wedding savings and first house help. they went on nice vacations every summer for like 1 week. they invested back into the store. but they didn’t have full to the brim vaults of gold or a manor ya know

he cared about quidditch once in his life, for approximately 10 minutes during his incredibly failed tryout for the team at hogwarts, and then it was no longer a valid topic. he’s not once watched a professional game, and was mostly secretly drinking during matches in the stands at hogwarts once he finally started going to them. he also tried to become the commentator for matches at school and was denied based on the fact that he knew the name of no pass and wasn’t sure about who even was in the ravenclaw team

has an owl since hogwarts named amata and she’s the most ill tempered animal ever. he treats her like royalty and yet she attacks him at the slightest chance she gets, and hurts others as well. he adores the little thing regardless. 

little. treasons. theo was always made up of those, unaware or not of the lines he was crossing. even now, after learning his lesson from proper betrayal, he still dabbles into little treasons, and they’re ways to make him feel a bit more in control even though he has lost most of it by now. 

he has very addictive tendencies and bad coping mechanisms. ever since he was quite young at hogwarts, he realised things like alcohol or drugs could break him out of funks, even if just temporarily. he’s yet to give that proper attention

BEAUTIFUL handwriting, has no business being that nice

(SUICIDE TW) very shaky mental health. definitely non diagnosed depression and has had it for quite a while, before the war was really an issue over his head, although it has worsened it all so damn much. he’d often miss class, have to be dragged to it by friends, just struggle man. oh well. but also has this sort of nonchalant approach to dying? just a very vague suicidal ideation at times that he throws in as a joke oops. or as very serious but ‘eh it is what it is’.

i have described his character development/regression as those wavy crafts scissors

this fear of being all alone and irrelevant is a great button to push. as well as his own lack of self worth - theo has a very strong mindset of ‘you break things, you fuck up every good thing that comes your way’. 

VERY needy. very touchy as well. and above all, a big romantic? his heart yearns for love so so so much all the time and has a hard time moving on always and forever. he really clings onto memories of feelings and a need for love uh

northerner boy but god does he HATE upper flagley and yorkshire with all his heart?? it feels stifling and he always compared himself to friends living in much more interesting places, and felt like maybe only a big city like london could fit him

 loves complaining

sees big acts of bravery as usually stupid, or reckless, or a martyr complex oops

probably went to the library 4 or 5 times during all his years at hogwarts, truly doesn’t understand how it works

“i’m not a traitor, i’m just dumb”; “i’m not a liar, i’m just a coward”

highkey seems himself as a very pathetic figure oops

he LOVES the fact that voldemort once worked at borgin and burkes. “me and the dark lord are more alike than you think”, which isn’t as funny of a joke anymore

some stats, which you can find HERE.

click HERE for a bad pinterest board.

some character parallels: jake peralta (b99), eliot waugh (the magicians), quentin coldwater (the magicians), albus potter (cursed child, i know), josh chan (cegf), richie tozier (it), oberyn martell (asoiaf), nick miller (new girl), diana barry (anne with an e), vanya hargreeves (umbrella academy), percy jackson (pjo), felix dawkins (orphan black), jaime lannister (got), haley dunphy (modern family), jason mendoza (the good place), klaus hargreeves (umbrella academy), eleanor shellstrop (the good place), harry bingham (the society), brittany pierce (glee), rachel berry (glee), tom haverford (parks n recs), rebecca bunch (cegf), plumbella (the simmer, yes, i have discovered they share an accent and i love this)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

childhood friends: so we’ve got two options here. someone who was also raised, at least partially, in upper flagley. OR one of the pureblood kids around his age that he’d visit with his family. either way, people who knew him before hogwarts and had seen his changes over the years.

friends in low places: of those childhood friends, he’s grow closer and closer to those more affiliated with the pureblood ideology. it started in 4th year when he finally got out of the dark about his parents’ death eater past (maybe even pushed by some of these friends first?) and he sort of just narrowed his world to people who understood that experience more and more. it got extra intense in his last year and due to his attempt at betrayal, some dislike him and probably scare him (sign up to be the one beating up theo lets go) while others are truly close friends. his attachment is more to the expectation and to the PEOPLE, not to the ideology. real friends, betrayed friends. 

ex friends: joining the DE kids led to two main scenarios, as theo had always befriended people regardless of affiliation, family or blood. he started pushing them away for their and his safety but shit! does he still care! OR they walked away when they saw who he was becoming and his selfish ass likely resents that. 

bonus ex friends: people he’s secretly kept close or they’ve decided to stay, but they no longer acknowledge each other’s existences in public, or go full ‘i hate them’ sort of narrative. 

bunch of haters: people who have never liked him. that’s about it. could be from school or not, but theo is certainly not the most easily likeable person. extra points if its someone from hogwarts that always got in shit with him, ended up in detention, wands were drawn, stupid shit. 

old tutor: at various points during his time at hogwarts, theo needed a little help. but since OWLs preparation he started paying a sum of his allowance to another student to help him understand stuff better. he’s a slow learner, a distracted one at that, but he pours all of his loyalty and care into those who help him out along the way. but also makes them want to bang their heads against the wall. by late seventh year, however, he stopped asking for help. 

artsy people: music was one of the few things he discovered pretty soon he’s great at, so he can often be seen practising, listening with heart eyes to others’ music, or testing out instruments he does NOT know how to play and thus sounds horrible. music pals !! could be connections starting in hogwarts or not but that’s always his happy place. could also be other arts, painters and writers, poets at heart, theater nerds. people who fit into all these types of intelligence that isn’t exactly academic

fam: i’m open for relatives!! his mother is a flint so that’s wide open, bring all the flints!! as for burkes, i like to hc that the family is very small, which in a way helps keep the shop ownership more contained. so i’m open for burke relatives but would def appreciate talking about it first! theo puts family first always in anything so :eyes:

a borgin: anyone, just someone who works at the shop or has ownership over it, or a kid of those people. make borgin & burkes complete. 

borgin & burkes clients and traders: the biggest claim the burke family could make within the DE was always that they have the connections to be good supplies, and so they did. the same applies to theo until now, who used the knowledge of cursed and dark artifacts he learned at his family’s shop, and the connections they’ve gained throughout the ages, to be of use. his face is was a staple there during the summers and until the realities collided he worked there full time, so many characters would have dealt with him in v6.

helping hand: being thrown into v8 with no money on him, he’s in a tight spot and unsure of how to proceed. some pureblood, especially DE, from any verse who give him a hand while he tries to work something out, further making it clear in his head that he owes so much to ‘his people’.

other me’s: i don’t have super set plans on what’s up with theo from all verses but i know that they aren’t around osidfhbdsnkj i’m saying most of them just were not in london when it all happened. i do know that v5 theo made good decisions and got the hell away from bad people and is out there, living okay, being good but a shithead. v3 theo is BAD at being a DE and it’s the worst version of him out there, his heart?? don’t know it, exists somewhere way too burried. v8 theo doesn’t exist because his parents went to azkaban after the second war oops. SUICIDE TW (v1 and v2 theodore are dead. verse 1 due to suicide. verse 2 was a DE and suffered an overdose that was likely not accidental. v6 theodore was not surprised to hear any of this and he hates that oops). so people from other verses!! who have interacted or known these other characters i’m not writing and now have this poor excuse for a theodore oof

one nights: he’s A Slut and sad and lonely. another eh coping mechanism but oh well, at least he’s pretty

friends n lies: someone from another verse who has no clue about who he his and his life, never saw each other before. and they befriend each other, while theo exercises his improv skills and makes up lies to cover the ugliest parts of him. he knows it’s a ticking time bomb but he does love reinvention. perhaps they are lying too? :eyes:

[thirteenthspirit]

Not a Very ‘Organized’ Organization (XIII)

I thought hard about this week’s topic of choice. Brexit was on my mind - I pondered about doing a comparison between parliament’s never-ending struggle with delays and failed agreements, vs Harvest Moon’s unending gameplay, farming and shipping and eventually marrying and digging in the mines and COLLECTING ALL THE DAMN SPRITES in that DS one. But that’s as far as it goes… I didn’t think I’d be able to milk it like those cows (hey!).

Speaking of Hey, I still want to get Space Channel 5 in there somewhere, those Chu’s and Hey’s have been on my mind like crazy…

So I settled on writing about one of my favorite topics – Organization XIII!

Organization XIII was always one of my favorite parts of the Kingdom Hearts series. They are cool and mysterious and (debatably) heartless, ranging everywhere from the mute heavyweight champions (*cough* Lexaeus *cough*) to the twink rockstar wannabes.

So, Organization XII is, like the name implies, a group of 13 nobodies – wait, scratch that – a group of 14 nobodies (eyeroll) who have banded together to… um… depends on who you ask. And in which game. Their primary goal was to be whole, to be granted a heart/soul, even if practically EVERY ONE OF THEM had a different agenda and there was a whole underlying separate reason for the creation of the Organization. NO WORRIES, let’s stick with that, because it’s more fun.

Ok so, breaking down the members, should we go by number? Order of appearance? Relevance? Element of choice? Maybe click (you know, high school clichés)?

Well – first you have the Mains. Roxas (no. XIII), is the counterpart of Sora, the main character in the whole series. So you know he’s gotta be pretty high on the list. The most interesting thing about Roxas is surprisingly NOT that he’s voice by Jesse McCartney, but the duality of elements he controls. Light and Darkness are everywhere with this guy – his outfit has chess squares on it and he wields both Oathkeeper and Oblivion, not to mention having an incredibly sad and traumatic origin story! He’s like, a slightly smarter and moodier Sora. I like Roxas, I’m sad they didn’t give him anything to do in KH3. Dual-wielding keyblades is pretty awesome and his light attacks can hit pretty hard. One of my favorite moments of the series will always be his fight with Riku in the secret ending of KH1, over 10 years ago! Seeing Roxas clash with Riku in mid-air in front of that clock tower (not to be confused with the one from Neverland – I mean England) really made my heart race as a kid. He can also boast to having shared quite a couple of awesome struggles (go Vivi), with Sora in that “Station of Awakening” place where Destati usually plays, and then with both his best friends - while trying not to be kidnapped by his “Flurry of Dancing Flames”, best friend Axel, and when dispatching Xion.

Xion (no. XIV) is a “puppet”, made to take over Roxas’s place and role in the Organization, should anything happen. She is an interesting character, tragedy befalls her and her journey with coming to the realization that she must sacrifice herself for Sora’s behalf (in order for him to become whole again) is a beautiful one to see. Vector to the Heavens plays when you’re fighting Xion for the last time, ending with Roxas effectively killing her and is a beautifully crafted piece. Xion suffers a bit from that ‘unintentional retcon’ where she didn’t really have a place, story-wise, and was created solely for 358/2 Days. So she was effectively written-out of the main storyline until the later games, with every character practically forgetting about her (literally losing their memories of her).

Rounding out the trio is one of everyone’s favorites – bad-guy good-guy Axel (no. VIII). Axel’s portrayal changed throughout the series. In CoM, he is responsible for unmasking a conspiracy and dispatching rogue members of the organization. He is the de-facto assassin. With not a hint of remorse. As his friendship with Xion and Roxas builds, he regains access to some degree of emotion – perhaps it’s caused by the (stick with me on this one) Lea-Ventus-Sora-Roxas-Axel connection, or perhaps he grows a heart, sitting on that clock tower overlooking the (ALWAYS SETTING) sun of Twilight Town and eating sea-salt ice cream. Eventually he turns on the organization, proving his loyalty is to his friends and even joins the main cast as a Keyblade wielder, turning the tides on some occasions (he really makes the end of DDD worth it). It helps that he has a wicked-cool design. His element is Fire and he wields twin Chakrams, boasting two tear tattoos and incredibly spiky hair. His relationship with Kairi is a cute element to the story, I wish (aside from some more combat or like ANY AT ALL) they had more scenes together and overall relevance to the main storyline. My favorite moment, aside from him rescuing Sora from his peers in DDD, has to be when he executes Vexen in Castle Oblivion.

From Axel, the most closely linked member, aside from Roxas and Xion, is SaÏx (no. VII). SaÏx is a warewolf. The moon sends him into a trance and he is often plagued with anger management issues. Berserk is his Nirvana. Him and Axel go way back and there is still a storyline to be uncovered there, judging from the secret reports found in KH3. In the end, his motivations aren’t really clear and fully explored, so his presence is not much more than Axel’s right arm, who happens to have a big “X” scar on his face. Sorry SaÏx – maybe see a therapist. At least you got a happy ending! SaÏx was one of the last Organization members to fall, in KH2. One of the last defenders of the Castle in (one my my all-time favorite KH worlds), The World That Never Was.

Another of the final defenders and members of the Organization to be vanquished at Sora’s had is – *drumroll* arguably MY FAVORITE OF THEM ALL, the incredibly hot and suave Luxord (no. X). Now – this guy is blonde. Has facial hair. Earrings. A British accent (maybe that’s just in my mind) and makes me look up his voice actor just to drool over that sweet sweet voice. He is the “Gambler of Fate” and shows up in the POTC world to basically taunt you and play a few games. Everything’s a game to this guy, even fighting. Which I can’t say he is great at… For someone able to control the element of Time, he’s kind of a pushover. But he’s still got a place in my heart – and maybe we’ll get to see him again, since he was the one who gave Sora that “wild card”… “Parlay!” more like “Let’s play strip poker pls”.

Who next… well let’s round out the oddballs with this guy. Ladies and gents, fans of the underground metal, garage bands and mohawks – I give you… Demyx (no. IX)! The Melodious Nocturne! …although there is nothing ‘nocturnal’ about him. This guy irradiates happiness and excitement and joy. I suppose he is just pretending, since Nobodies can’t really feel, rather they remember what it was like. Dem-dem too is a fan favorite. He is very young and has a different disposition than the rest of the members, he’s just your lazy, average Joe that just wants to spend his days jamming out on his Sitar. He is the first Organization member to fall in KH2, and is considered “not much of a fighter”. I would obviously disagree with this BECAUSE DANCE WATER DANCE MOTHERF***** is hell. Hell! Still, Dem-dem brings some lightheartedness to the game and the entire group, so he is a welcome addition. He is shunned even in KH3 but that’s just a side note of his… personality traits, I suppose. Never forget when he ‘drops the act’ just before turning on Sora, before what would be his final battle. Demyx controls the element of Water.

And since when it rains, it pours; and when it pours, usually it thunders (at least here in Portugal), that seems like a decently-crafted segway to the next member – Larxene (no. XII). Larxene is… a bitch. I don’t say that lightheartedly, I consider myself a feminist and I never forget that quote “when a man is assertive, he’s called a Boss. When a woman is assertive, she’s called a bitch.” But Larxene is just MEAN. She’s the mean girl of the bunch – together with her GBF Marluxia. Larxene poses some of the hardest fights in CoM but sadly, and like most female characters in this series, she’s shunned in favor of other members. This is a critic I have with the entire KH series – Aqua is virtually my favorite character but she’s really the only female character that is given storyline, relevance and overall strength. And like most fans I was DYING to see Kairi kick ass in KH3, but… we all know how that went. Not much to say about Larxene, her lightning-fast attacks and knives give her a pretty sharp demeanor and she’s not afraid to play every trick to her advantage. Standout moment is, unfortunately, her demise in CoM, fading into darkness. Oh and that laugh.

Larxene’s ‘somebody’ appears in KH: Unchained, together with Marluxia’s somebody. Marluxia (no. XI) controls the attribute of Flowers.

Yes.

Flowers.

He also boasts pink hair and – the best part – a huge pink scythe. His nickname is “The Graceful Assassin” but aside from plotting to overthrow the Organization and posing as the main antagonist in CoM, he doesn’t really do a lot of killing. The fights against him in KH2: Final Mix are among my favorites, especially with that countdown as he swings about the field. It seems he has quite a role in the Mobile game, so maybe we’ll get to see more of his backstory in the future. His final parting words were somewhat mysterious. Together with Larxene and a sneaky Axel, Marluxia betrays the Organization and his fellow members in Castle Oblivion, for his own agenda.

The assignment to Castle Oblivion introduces us to 3 other members of the organization – Vexen (no. IV), Lexaeus (no. V) and Zexion (no. VI). And 3 character tropes. The mad scientist, the jock, and the emo kid.

Vexen, aka “The Chilly Academic”, controls my favorite element, Ice. He is, ironically, killed by Axel in a flurry of flames, in a very dramatic moment in CoM. Vexen merely wants to conduct his experiments in peace – he doesn’t care who rules, what happens to the worlds, even who might or not be possessing him. He only cares about his “Replica” program. The Replica program consists on the creation of “puppets”, bodies able to function who are only missing a heart. He plays quite the role in KH3, effectively redeeming himself. Vexen is one of the creepiest characters around – he has long blond hair and green eyes, but really that ‘mad scientist’ vibe is all that transpires. Shout-out to his English voice actor, Derek Stephen Prince, for giving him a creepy vibe. He’s not much of a fighter, with his weapon of choice being an icy shield called “Frozen Pride”.

Zexion is one of the younger members of the Organization – perhaps even younger than Demyx. He is also arguably one of the smartest. Like Vexen, he cares mostly about his research and specific topics of interest *cough* Riku *cough*. However, his young demeanor reflects some innocence – he is the only member you don’t fight against in CoM, ending up murdered at the hands of Axel (with a little help from a Replica…). I really like Zexion, to battle he wields a book (the Lexicon) and would rather dazzle the opponents with some crafted illusions than hit them hard. He is one of the most prominent figures in KH3 and his reunion with his Master, Ansem the Wise, is very touching and reveals once again his innocence. He is often accompanied by Lexaeus, who is essentially a shadow of Zexion, a silent guardian to the smaller member. It is suggested he has been protecting Zexion since the latter was a small child.

Lexaeus fights Riku at one point, effectively forcing Riku to unleash the darkness in his heart just to defeat him. The Organization member is a towering figure and barely ever talks – he is just muscle, but emanates a safe and caring feel outwards, especially in his interactions with Zexion. To battle he wields a huge hammer-like weapon (which totally reminds me of Rikku’s weapons from FFX) called the Skysplitter and commands the element of Earth.

These 3 members are one half of the initial 6 apprentices, who formed the Organization. These founding members all worked together under the tutelage of Ansem the Wise and range from the scientists like Vexen and Zexion to the guardians like Lexaeus and Xaldin.

Xaldin (no. III) is very much… wasted. His virtually only appearance is in KH2, in his vain attempts to turn The Beast into a heartless. His most evident feature is his sideburns. Xaldin’s sideburns are thick, dark and intimidating. He also wields a lot of lances – like, more than 3, which he uses his wind powers to attack you with. He has a really cool attack where he forms a dragon out of wind and blows you to pieces with. Other than another “werewolf” look, that’s pretty much it. Mickey to the rescue!

Then we get to Xigbar (no. II). Xigbar, or Braig, or Luxu, OR ONE-EYED PIRATE, I’m not sure there is much of a difference, became a usual presence throughout the series. Apparently he’s been around for a loooooong time, ever since the forgotten time of the mobile game. He is a cool dude. His “As If” will go down as a pretty cool quote. Xigbar’s nickname is The Sharpshooter and he immediately stands out from the bunch. We are still unaware of his agenda and interests, not knowing to what extent he is controlled or, rather, he is controlling the narrative. He is overall an awesome character, essentially sniping you from afar with his stylish gun-like weapons. He even fakes his own death in KH3! In what is one of the best moments from the final act. His interactions with the rest of the Organization are always funny to watch, especially with his on-and-off younger lover, Demyx. The standout moment against him is undoubtedly that moment during his fight where he corners you and forces you to run around trying to avoid the millions of blue bullets being aimed at you. One of the best members overall.

And then there was I. Mr. Xemnas (no. I) aka “The Superior of the In-Between” (seriously bro, that’s the nickname you’re gonna pick?) aka “MANSEX” among the fans, aka “Xehanort’s nobody”. He is the man behind the Organization, the one really pulling all the strings. I’m gonna skip the part behind his motivations, they’re murky and the writers decide to change them between games, and I’ll get right down to the cool bits – THE SWORDS. Yes, Xemnas wields two red lightsabers. No, he is not Darth Maul, just a fan. He is calm and has a raspy voice, never really getting too flattered (that one’s yours, Axel). The coolest interaction with Xemnas is the final battle against him. Besides his black and white coat, he eventually summons a plethora of red projectiles which surround Sora and Riku, as they (in a very realistic, grounded and believable moment), deflectem with their respective keyblades. Xemnas ends up falling a bit short when compared with Ansem, Seeker of Darkness… He was just never that menacing of a villain, especially with his always calm behavior.

And that’s it. That’s the full list of the organization members. This turned out to be more of an exposé on each of the members, than anything else. I thought about trying to find real-life personalities to match each of the members, but eventually came up short on that. Organization XIII’s struggle to “be whole” and regain the part of their humanity they had lost – their soul, the ability to feel, always struck me as a really interesting motivation. For quite some time, the idea that you could shed the part of you that is able to “feel” struck me as something good, something to be envious of. I was, of course, wrong – even the dark feelings within us are what gives us the ability to connect and empathize with others.

So be sure to deflect those projectiles, and someone PLEASE give my number to Luxord,

                                                                                               -João A. (Pachiren)  

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia: Chapter 19

My on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fan-fic!   Chapter 19, presented raw and unedited and featuring Shota Shinso! Chapters 0-18 (plus an interlude) can be found here

“Yow!  Look out and shout, listeners!  This is Present Mic and the time is 0630 on this beautiful Tuesday morning!  If you’ve got work today in Hosu City, better give yourself extra time, because there’s a Villain attack downtown that has everything all tied up!  Fortunately, new outlets on the scene are reporting that Ingenium and his sidekicks are on the case!  We’ll keep you updated when we know more.  But for now, here’s the latest hit from Jiro and the Jamming Wheys!”

Shota’s sleepy fingers prodded at his alarm clock until he found the volume button, lowering it to something less likely to jolt him out of bed.  He’d stayed up too late (again), reading through the various Hero News sites and watching videos of Heroes in action.  He always paid for it the next morning, but he always considered it worth it.

He threw back the covers and put both feet on the floor, blinking his eyes for a few moments as he adjusted to being awake.   Pro-Heroes stared back at him from every corner of the room, from the posters along every wall, to the statues and action figures that covered nearly every other available surface.  It had been a real challenge deciding what to bring to U.A. with him, but he’d somehow managed.  But maybe he’d trade a few things out the first time he went home.

As he set his phone to voice response mode as he started to get dressed.  “What’s the current Top Ten Hero Rankings?” he asked it, one of his pre-programmed searches.  While the Official Billboard rankings only came out biannually, there were plenty of other Hero-fans and communities out there using similar algorithms to track on a more regular basis.

A hologram popped up of the results:

1)     Deku

2)     Lemillion

3)     Shoto

4)     Ground Zero

5)     Nejire-chan and Suneater

6)     Ingenium

7)     Rodeo

8)     Gale Force

9)     Froppy

10) Red Riot and Real Steel

Most of those weren’t surprising.  Deku and Lemillion traded off spots fairly frequently and both had been working overtime in the advent of the Quirk Virus outbreak.  Shoto had pretty consistently held the Number Three spot for a number of years, though Ground Zero occasionally rose to the Number Three or Two spot for about a day or two before dropping down.  Ingenium had been pretty solidly Number Six for even longer.  

Neijire-chan and Suneater both worked at the same agency they’d founded with Lemillion after he’d gotten his Quirk back, and typically worked together still, even when his duties drew him apart from them.  Even without him, they’d racked up a number of impressive victories, rescues, and captures to their name.  Hero couples usually did.  His parents frequently worked together too and had similar results, her Quirk complimenting his quite nicely.  Even if they were largely Underground Heroes, operating below most people’s radar.

The only real surprise on the list was Rodeo, Mika Mineta’s mother.  After he fixed his tie and slipped on his jacket, Shota opened the article associated with the most recent list for more information.   She’d previously been hovering in the low to mid-teens, but it looked like a victory against the Villain group known as the Rustlers, she’d been propelled up several notches. It looked like the Villains had taken a bullet train hostage and she’d pulled off the rescue single handedly.

Unfortunately, there weren’t very many video clips of the rescue, just a couple of hastily taken and shaky cell phone videos.  There were more when the train had pulled in the station and she’d walked out with them all tied up, but those weren’t nearly as exciting.

On the other hand, a linked article showed that a newer Pro-Hero, Wreck-It, was rapidly rising in the ranks following his fight with Fullmetal last week, having hit Number Twenty-Seven already.  Most people were speculating he’d crack the teens by the end of the year.   Looking at the time, Shota saved a video of Wreck-It fighting Cy-Bug for later.  If he wanted breakfast, he’d have to go down now.

There was never enough time for the important stuff!

***

Shota came out of his room at the same time that Isamu Haimawari was coming out of his.  Tall and skinny, Haimawari had a good six inches or more on him. Shota gave him a wave.  “Morning, Haimawari!”

“Oh, morning, Shinso,” he said.  “You, ah, you look tired.”

Shota shrugged. “Stayed up too late again watching Hero videos.  I’d watch one, and then it just kept suggesting more!”

Haimawari laughed. “You do know that’s just what it does, right?  For the clicks and ads?”

“Yeah, well… they shouldn’t have so much cool stuff if they’re gonna do that!”

He laughed again as they headed for the stairs.  “If you say so, little dude.  Just don’t let Aizawa catch you napping.  I don’t think it’s be pretty.  He’s really scary.”  He held open the door to the stairwell for Shota.

“Oh, I don’t worry too much about that.   Uncle Shota’s not nearly as scary as he seems.”

Haimawari missed a step and began skidding down the stairs, only stopping himself by throwing out his hands and using his Quirk to brake himself.   He got uneasily back to his feet.  “’Uncle Shota’?” he asked, sounding as if he didn’t really believe what he was saying.  “How do you two have the same name?”

It took Shota a minute to remember that Haimawari hadn’t grown up with the rest of them.  It had only been a week, but he’d already gotten completely used to having him around.  “I’m named after him,” he explained.  “He’s my godfather.  He was my dad’s mentor, back in the day.  Helped get him into the Hero Course and everything.”

Haimawari tilted his head. “That’s a thing?”

“Oh yeah!” Shota said. “Lots of Pro-Heroes started off in the General Education Department but got to transfer to the Heroics Course after they made their mark in the Sports’ Festival!  It’s pretty much a U.A. tradition!  There’s the Negotiator, and the Safari Samurai, and Iron Blood, and Life Sewer, and…”

“Wow,” Haimawari said. “Too bad more schools don’t do something like that.  Dad applied to a Hero school too… but missed the exam.  He might have made it up after.  Course, if he did that, he probably never would have met Mom, so…” He shrugged.  “Guess things work out.”

“Your dad was gonna be a Hero?” he asked.  “Awww, man! You said he’s got the same Quirk as you, right?  Your Quirk is so cool!  I bet he could have made an awesome one!”

That got a smile out of Haimawari as they reached the bottom of the stairs and headed into the Common Room. “Yeah… well, guess it’s up to me then.”

“You’ll do great,” Shota said.  “I know it!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude,” Haimawari said.  

The Common Room was abuzz with activity, with most either eating breakfast, fixing their breakfast, or otherwise engaged.  Shota saw Toshi sitting with Takuma Sero and the Iida Twins on one of the sofas.  Sora Iida was sitting very close to Toshi, practically in his lap, while Takuma and Tensei Iida were sitting close, but not as close, though both looked rather relaxed with each other.  Everybody had already known about Sero and Tensei Iida, of course, since Kimiko Ojiro had blasted it to the farthest corners of the internet, but Toshi and Sora Iida was new.  Good for them, though.

“Haimawari!”  Chihiro Kaminari’s voice cut across the room, from where she was sitting with Mika Mineta.  “Your mom’s a music reporter, right?”

Haimawari looked over in their direction, maybe looking a little pale from the attention.  “Ah, yeah?” he said.

“Then get over here! You’ve got to have the inside scoop on these Double*Pop girls!” Kaminari said.

“Bunch of wannabes,” Haimawari said, looking disgusted for the first time since Shota had known him. “Hang on, let me get a Pop-Tart and I’ll give you the real gossip.”  

He gave Shota an apologetic grin.  “Sorry, I’ve gotta get in on this.  Just… come check on me in about fifteen to make sure they haven’t kidnapped me to have their way with me,”

“Oookay?” Shota said. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he’d still check up on him anyway.  He’d grab some cereal and then go join Asuka, Izumi, and Kirishima-Bakugo for some quick breakfast before class.

Hopefully the morning wouldn’t drag on too long.  He couldn’t wait to get back to the USJ!

***

“Go, Shinso!” Akaya Koda directed, pointing with one massive hand.  “My trees have grown strong, but they will not hold back rubble’s collapse for long!”

Back the USJ, they were continuing their Urban Rescue Training.  Yesterday, they’d been training with Doc Clock (she wasn’t very high in the Hero Rankings, but Aunt Eri was definitely one of the top Heroes in his book), and today they were working with All Might himself!  The former Number One Hero in Japan and the world! The Symbol of Peace!  And he was still teaching after all these years!   It was the coolest thing in the universe!

He was working with Akaya Koda, Takiyo Aoyama, Takuma Sero, and Izumi Todoroki.  The cityscape around them was in ruins, with numerous small fires and many of the buildings in states of significant collapse.  They’d already cleared three buildings and were on to a fourth.  Koda had used her Quirk to fast grow trees from seeds (decades of growth in seconds!), shaping their growth enough to reinforce a collapsed section of a building. But they wouldn’t hold forever. So they had to know how many people were inside to be rescued.

Shota took a deep breath and concentrated on his Quirk, sending out as high a pitch as he could manage, almost past the range of human hearing.  Invisible waves of sound penetrated the building, bouncing all around it, until they bounced back to him, painting a perfect picture in his mind. He could see every nook, cranny, door, pipe, light fixture, and “person” inside.

“Five people inside,” he said.  “Two on the ground floor, three on the third.”

He had spent a lot of time with Quirk Specialists and Quirk Counselors over the years.  His was a true, rare, once in a family line mutation, completely different from anything anyone else on either side of his family had.  They were still figuring out everything he could do.  He just knew he could make a lot of things happen with different sounds.  And every time he found something new, it meant it was a new way he could help people. But sonar was really useful here. Not that it didn’t have its drawbacks. There was the time he’d used it when Kimiko Ojiro was around…

“I can take Todoroki up,” Sero said, pointing to the third floor.  “I can get there, but I can’t get past the fires.  You up for that?”

Izumi nodded.  She looked a little tired; she’d been making lots of ice to fight the fires, only occasionally and carefully letting out little puffs of her own flames to balance herself out.  The silver pieces on her costume were flashing yellow. Shota knew they did something to help regulate her temperatures, but he didn’t know what the flashing meant.  He hoped she was okay.

“I can manage,” Izumi said. “Just get me close enough.”

“Guess that leaves us on the ground floor!” Shota said to Aoyama.

Aoyama shrugged, his glow bright and partially obscuring his features.  “I suppose they shall be grateful for the rescue,” he said.  

“Best hurry,” Koda said. “I shall do what I can to reinforce what I have already grown, but I fear providence shall not be with us for long.”

They moved.  With Todoroki on his back, Sero fired a strand of his Acid Tape upward, pulling them towards the third floor.  Shota sprinted inside, Aoyama hot on his heels and soon passing him.

He probably could have navigated with his Sonar—though the picture it had given him was fading fast from his mind—but Shota was grateful for Aoyama’s light.  With the power out in the ruined building, it cast a soft glow over everything.  

“You said there were deux,” Aoyama said.  “Where?”   He held up a hand and concentrated, focusing his light through the reflective armband he wore as part of his Support gear.  The armband focused the light into a powerful spotlight beam, which he traced over the dark corners of the room.

Shota pointed a little to the left of where Aoyama’s spotlight had fallen.  “One there… one further in the back.”

The ground began to shake and pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling.  Aoyama let out a frightened yelp and jumped to the side as one nearly fell on him.  “Then let us get them and get out as soon as possible,” he said.

Swiftly, they checked the first of the animatronics.  There was a fallen filing cabinet pinning its legs and the vital signs meters displaying on its chest told a story of a great many injuries.  Shota grabbed onto the cabinet and tried to lift it, grunting and straining with all his might, but it was too heavy.

Aoyama let out a sigh. “Allow me to show you how it is done.”   He pointed a hand at the filing cabinet and made some adjustment to his arm band.  A beam of light as wide as his fist shot out, striking the cabinet and slicing through it, splitting it into the portion that was over the animatronic’s legs and the portion that wasn’t.  The beam continued on and went into the wall behind it, leaving a smoking hole and red hot edges on the cabinet.

The lights on the animatronic lit up like a Christmas tree before shutting off completely.  Shota reached a hand towards it and pulled it back. The animatronic and the air around it was still hot from Aoyama’s laser beam.  No wonder it had…  died? Was that the right word for what had happened?

He knew Aoyama was powerful, but he also knew he mostly relied on his Support gear to control his Quirk.  Shota’s eyes went wide as he looked at his classmate.

“Non…” Aoyama said.  “I did not mean…   We… we must have been too late already!”  He gave his cape a flick.  “Let us see about the other one, Shinso.”

Shota was very sure that they hadn’t been too late and that it had been Aoyama’s fault.  But after seeing the horrified look on his French classmate’s face, he wasn’t going to push it.  Maybe he’d be a little nicer after that.

As they headed to the back room, the ground shook again and more of the ceiling began to fall.  A big piece of the ceiling fell near Aoyama, causing him to shriek and Shota to flinch at the noise of the crash.  More started to fall, but when Aoyama tried to move, he couldn’t!   His cape had been caught under the rubble that had nearly hit him.  And more was falling…

Shota screamed.  The air around the rippled with the sonic energy he had unleashed, forming a protective dome around both of them. Several more pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling, but they bounced off the dome.  Finally, it stopped and Shota could breathe again, coughing until his throat felt right again.  That had been longer than he typically used his Quirk for.  He was best in short bursts and could only keep it up as long as he could draw in enough air to make sound.

Aoyama looked at him with wide eyes.  “You saved me,” he said, his voice soft and quiet.  “Merci.”

“You’d have done the same!” Shota told him, even if part of him wondered if that wasn’t true.  “And they wouldn’t let us really get hurt, not during training!”

“Still…” Aoyama frowned and tugged at his cape, until it came away from the rubble with a long riiiiiip.  “A pity. My poor cape.”

Shota was going to tell him that he shouldn’t wear it, that very few Heroes wore them these days, exactly because of what had happened.  He even remembered reading about an American Support Gear and costume designer who had campaigned very hard for the international Hero community to outlaw capes in their entirety, though she had not been successful in that. Too many people thought they were too iconic to give up.  But Shota could quote a lot of statistics on why they were a bad idea…

“Aoyama!  Shinso!”  Koda’s voice rang out.  “The structure is becoming unstable!  You need to get out!”

Both turned and ran for the door.  Shota hated leaving the exercise incomplete…but it looked like they had no choice.

The second they hit daylight, the building finished collapsing, taking Koda’s trees with it. “Thank you for your sacrifice, my woody friends,” she said quietly.  “Rest well knowing the lessons I have learned here will mean it was not in vain.”  Her rocky features were tired and a little sad. Shota knew she took it hard whenever her plants were hurt, even in training.

“You two okay?” Sero asked. “You were in there a long time.” Soot covered his costume and he held his helmet in the crook of his arm, scrubbing at the faceplate with a cloth.

“And your cape is torn, Aoyama,” Izumi said.  She was letting flames dance over her fingertips, the blinking lights on the silver pieces of her costume fading from yellow to green.

“We just ran into un petit bit of trouble,” Aoyama said, putting on a proud grin.  But he only held it for a minute, Shota bet he was remembering that they’d all be reviewing the video later. “But… Shinso was quite good at getting us out of it.  Even if we did not complete the rescue.”

“An unfortunate truism of being a Hero,” All Might said, as he left the safe zone he’d been monitoring them from.  Shota had seen plenty of videos of him in his prime, but there was something captivating about the man he’d mostly known as Toshi’s grandfather.  He’d been a Hero longer than almost anyone; and Shota knew he was lucky to learn whatever he could from him.

“Sometimes,” All Might continued, “you cannot save everyone.  Sometimes… you will be pushed to your limits and it will still not be enough. We hold tremendous power and responsibility in our hands.  Our profession is an unforgiving one, one which demands perfection of us, when the slightest misstep or wrong choice can cost lives. But if you train your minds, bodies, and Quirks…  You can at least ensure those moments are as few and far between as possible.

“I think you all know where you can begin to improve, but that being said…  You are all showing great progress!  We will discuss the specifics later, but the other groups should be finishing up and Water Spout and Doc Clock will be wanting to continue your first aid lessons.  But know that I am very proud of all of you!  You are truly showing you know what it means to Go Beyond… Plus Ultra!”

Shota was pretty sure he’d never felt happier.  All Might believed in him!

***

“Remember, kids, playing by the rules is super manly!  If you see someone cheating, let them know that’s not fair!  And that’s what Red Riot Sayz!”

Shota turned down the volume on his computer while the ad between videos loaded.  Someone had uploaded a bunch of Public Service Announcements that Red Riot had done more than a decade ago and he just had to watch them all!  He wouldn’t be up too late if he did that…

“Shota, go to bed.”

He looked up from his computer to find Asuka, Izumi, Toshi, and Haimiwari in his room.  He must have been watching so intently he didn’t even hear them!

“Go to bed,” Asuka repeated.

“Sorry, dude,” Haimiwari said, an apologetic smile on his face.  “But you looked really tired this morning.  I had to call in the heavy artillery.”

“I’m only gonna watch a couple more,” Shota said.  And he was! Probably.  Sometimes they were just too tempting!

“Those’ll probably get taken down anyway,” Toshi said.  “That’s not an official video channel.”

They might?  Then he had to watch them all tonight!  He started to turn back towards his computer.

“Maybe not the best thing to say, Toshi, *chirp*” Asuka said.

“…Ooops?”

“Shota,” Izumi said.  “It is only Tuesday and you’ve already been tired both mornings this week.  This is not healthy for you or your future as a Hero.”

“Dad doesn’t sleep that much,” he tried.  

“But you are not your father,” Izumi continued.  “And besides… your godfather would tell you to rest whenever you are able.  We must insist you go to bed.”

Shota became uncomfortably aware of the four sets of eyes on him.  And of the fact that despite her soft voice, there was a firmness to Izumi’s words that meant he wasn’t going to win this argument.

“Okay,” he said, dejectedly, getting out of his chair.

“Turn the computer off,” Asuka said.

“And no using your phone either,” Izumi added.

They’d really thought of everything!  He was definitely trapped.  Well… one day without too many videos probably wouldn’t kill him.

He’d just have to watch even more tomorrow!

[feelingsdusk-writes]

The life and times of Hatake Kakashi, the long-suffering jōnin-sensei

Kakashi is being trolled. He doesn’t know how that can be, but he knows with utmost certainty that he’s being trolled somehow.

It started when he went to pick his hopefully (not) future team on a beautiful Monday morning -Er… afternoon? He was really late after all… Oops?- and he got greeted by an eraser to the head and his three blank faced (not) cute future mini baby ninja.

““How sad,” duck-butt hair, Uchiha Sasuke, says.

“Maybe he’s hurt or something?” pinky, Haruno Sakura, says with wide open baby deer eyes. “So sorry, sensei!”

(Kakashi is pretty sure she’s not.)

“Still sad,” Sasuke sneers.

“See why I told you no kunai?” She frowns at blondie… whom is completely out of it and actually snoring face down in his desk.

“Wha-” said blondie, Uzumaki Naruto, blurts out as he startles awake when she slaps him on the back of his head. “Oh, it… worked? How sad.”

“Naruto!” she scolds him horrified, shooting a worried look at Kakashi.

(Again, Kakashi is pretty sure she’s neither horrified nor worried.)

“Exactly,” Sasuke agrees, ignoring her.

“My first impression of you…” Kakashi finally speaks, earning their full attention. “How should I put this?” He feigns thinking about it for a second. “I hate you. I’ll meet you at the rooftop in a minute.”

“I think my heart just broke,” he hears Sasuke deadpan he hears Sasuke deadpan as his shunshin carries him away in a whirl of leaves.

They take forever to get to the rooftop. So much so, in fact, that Kakashi considers looking for them, but they show up before he makes up his mind.

“Ah, sorry sensei,” Sakura apologizes demurely. “We got waylaid on our way.”

“Waylaid?”

“Secret mission for the good of Konoha! That cockroach couldn’t go on living!” Naruto exclaims boisterously.

“Cockroach.”

“A really big one,” Sakura explains earnestly.

Sasuke, who has remained blank faced and silent since they reached the rooftop, simply nods.

“Right,” Kakashi says, inwardly questioning how the hell did these idiots pass the initial cut. Then he remembers that nowadays they only have to pass a couple of exams and moves on. It’s not like he will have to bear much more with them anyways, because after tomorrow’s test they will be toast. “Ok, why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

“An introduction?” Sakura inquires unsure. “What should we say?”

“Your likes, dislikes, dreams and hobbies,” Kakashi explains. “Mah, something like that.”

“Ano sa, ano sa,” Naruto intervenes. “Why don’t you go first, sensei?”

“Me?” Both Naruto and Sakura nod in unison while Sasuke remains silent and seemingly uninterested. For a second Kakashi has the strong feeling that he’s being teased somehow but he can’t quite put the finger on why he does. “My name is Hatake Kakashi. I have no intentions of telling you my likes and dislikes. As for my dream… I have few hobbies.”

They share a grin. Well, Sasuke smirks, but still, color Kakashi confused.

“My name is Uzumaki Naruto,” the blond plunges in before he can dwell on it. “I love ramen and…” He blushes and grins. Sakura giggles and Sasuke looks heavenward as if asking for patience. “I hate the three minutes that it takes the cup of ramen to be ready and cockroaches. My hobby is eating, training and experimenting.” Both Sakura and Sasuke visibly shudder at the last one. Interesting. “My dream is to become Ho-” Sakura coughs something that sounds suspiciously like council and Kakashi would swear that Sasuke murmurs paperwork. Naruto pales dramatically. “-nored and respected in this village and someone that can protect his precious people.”

“Next?” Kakashi motions smoothly as if he hasn’t noticed anything.

“I’m Haruno Sakura,” she chirps sweeter than candy. Kakashi can already feel the cavities forming. “I love relaxing with a cup of tea and some sweets, training and …” She blushes and fidgets. Naruto giggles and Sasuke looks heavenward again. “I hate idiots and cockroaches. My hobby is baking and cooking in general.” Both boys shudder dramatically, becoming pale as chalk, and she rolls her eyes. “My dream is to protect my precious people.”

“Next.”

“My name is Uchiha Sasuke. I like some things,” the peanut gallery giggles and Sasuke looks heavenward for the third time, “and dislike a lot more, especially cockroaches. My hobby is…” He rolls his eyes and the other two giggle again. “My dream is to restore my clan’s honor and to fulfill my duty to my family.”

Kakashi was supposed to get the bookworm fangirl, the prankster hokage-wannabe and the acerbic avenger and he feels cheated because he only got one half of the deal. Either the academy instructors are shit at information gathering or he’s being trolled by three kids.

“Well, you three have very different personalities. I like it!” Kakashi announces after a second of awkward silence. “Tomorrow we go on a mission.” No reaction. “But before that we will do some survival training, because out of the twenty-seven academy graduates, only nine will remain.” Still no reaction besides a nod. Kakashi gives it up as a loss and pouts inwardly because they have taken the only fun this whole situation has. “We’ll meet at 5 A.M. Come prepared and don’t have breakfast or you’ll regret it.”

So it started this morning (afternoon) and it continues now. Normally one of the beauties of being forced to evaluate hopeful genins is to scare them the day before. But not only they didn’t even react to his announcement of their genin title still being pending, but they are sleeping like rocks.

Kakashi is really confused.

Then he remembers he didn’t actually tell them where they would be meeting tomorrow and he shrugs. It will be as good a time as any other to test their tracking skills… and perseverance, of course, because he isn’t planning to get there until several hours later.

(Serves the cheeky brats right.)

—

They are waiting for him at the correct training ground and for a moment Kakashi thinks that maybe he did tell them where to meet? But no, he has a pretty good memory and he’s sure he didn’t. But then again, he always does this test here, with the memorial stone right at hand in case the impossible happens and he passes a team so…

He sighs. They really are taking all the fun from this, dammit, and for a moment he considers going to a different ground, but in the end he decides against it.

He observes them for a moment before showing himself, though. Sakura is talking to Sasuke, voice soft and relaxed, and he occasionally answers back, equally soft. No sight of fawning or fangirlsm on her part at all or of higher-than-thou attitude on his part. Naruto is dozing between them and neither of them seems to mind. For a moment Kakashi thinks that it may be because they want some peace that they can’t have when the hyperactive blond is up and running, but then Naruto slides down and his head comes to rest upon Sasuke’s shoulder and neither the Uchiha or Sakura bat an eye.

All right, that’s it. Either the information gathering of the academy is shit or they have been acting up until now. Kakashi is inclined towards the former after the Mizuki incident, because those kids aren’t being subtle at all and they have to know that he’s bound to show up eventually and he’ll see them. He decides here and now to forget about the reports he has about them and to start from zero in his assessment.

“Good morning, everyone!” he chirps finally deciding to show himself and eager to get this farce over so he can get on with his life. He doesn’t care if it’s the last Uchiha or not, he won’t pass them if they don’t deserve it. The Council can go hang themselves for all he cares. “Ready to start?”

“If after three hours we aren’t ready to start we deserve to be killed,” Sasuke deadpans. Then he looks towards Naruto. “Oi, dobe, time to wake up.”

“Wait, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura interjects softly before looking at Kakashi. “Are we actually going to start, sensei? I’d hate to wake him just for the sake of it.”

Ouch, Kakashi thinks, that was even sharper than Sasuke’s indirect comeback and she said it with such an angelic face that for a moment Kakashi had doubts of it being an intentional jab at all.

(Who is he kidding? It is. It totally is.)

“We’re going to actually start indeed, Sakura-chan,” he tells her plastering a fake smile in his face.

“Ah, ok,” she smiles at him unperturbed. “Ramen.”

“WHERE,” Naruto exclaims jerking awake and then tears up when there’s no ramen in sight. “That was so cruel, Sakura-chan!”

“Effective,” Kakashi mutters.

“Always,” she nods flashing a victory sign at him and Sasuke snorts. Naruto continues wailing in the background.

“Let’s get moving, shall we?” Kakashi motions to them towards a clearing. “Here are the rules,” he starts dangling the two bells in front of them before tying them up to his waist. “You have to get these from me before this alarm sounds. If you fail, you go back to the Academy, if you get them, you pass. Simple, right?”

“Sensei, you forgot one bell. There’s only two,” Sakura points out helpfully.

(Sasuke blinks and Naruto fidgets. Kakashi is pretty sure he’s missing something.)

“Only two of you will pass, Sakura-chan,” Kakashi explains, voice milder than milk, and then waits for the sweet outburst.

It never comes and he doesn’t even know why he’s even surprised at this point. They frown, they look at each other, they tilt their heads consideringly and then go back to looking at him. Then Sakura holds up her hand.

“Yes, Sakura-chan?”

“Um, sensei,” she fidgets. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“How do these numbers work? It doesn’t really make sense… Because you said yesterday that only nine out of the twenty-seven would pass? And that means that two people of each team should fail? And I mean, what if only one person gets the bell? And-”

—

“Team 7?”

“Pass.”

—

“Report.”

“Mah, for starters, they accidentally broke the clock because Naruto’s accuracy under duress is… well, not very good. Sakura seized the opportunity and pointed out that since the alarm wouldn’t sound, they had all the time in the world to complete the mission.”

“Smart.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi nods. “That good impression was lost afterwards, though. If it wasn’t ridiculous, I would have bet that they were competing for the honor of being tied to the pole.” Or more like Sakura and Naruto were and Sasuke had to join in because he hated losing at anything and couldn’t help himself. “Naruto won.”

“Yare, yare,” Sarutobi groans rubbing his face exasperated.

“I was going to fail them right then and there, because neither Sakura or Sasuke made a move to feed him after I forbid them to do so, but when I was about to, I noticed that Naruto had a rice grain near his mouth. I don’t know how or when, but they fed him.” Kakashi had been near the whole time and he hadn’t seen a thing. Sure, he had been reading the whole time and having his own lunch, but… “In any case, I let them try again and they finally worked together so I let Sakura get the bells. When I told them to choose…”

Sakura blinks and looks at the bells in her hands. They look at each other, they look at Kakashi. Then she comes to him, extends the hand with both bells and when he takes them, she goes back to her teammates. The three of them bow down in unison.

“Thank you for today, Hatake-san,” they chorus before turning to leave.

“I’m still hungry.”

“You’re always hungry, Naruto.”

“I’m a growing boy, Sakura-chan! Ramen?”

“We had ramen yesterday, dobe.”

“So what? Ramen is a complete meal. It has protein, carbohydrates…”

“Yakiniku-Q.”

“Teme!”

“Dobe, it’s my turn.”

“Ok, ok! Yakiniku-Q, dammit. But tomorrow-”

“It’s my turn and I want to try Shushuya.”

“Sakura-chaaan!”

“Oi, you three.”

“Yes, Hatake-san?”

“Huh,” Sarutobi manages to get out.

“Huh, indeed,” Kakashi agrees and wonders if it’s too late to become a missing nin.

—

For two weeks, everything is relatively normal. They meet at training ground 3, Kakashi is really late and his cheeky little genin are sassy in return. They train for a while before taking on a D-Rank mission, they file the report and then go home. Rinse and repeat.

They have very interesting dynamics, Kakashi comes to find out. Sakura plays the cute innocent little girl, Naruto the boisterous idiot and Sasuke the haughty genius, and all of them do it masterfully. In reality all of them are manipulative and devious little shits to some degree or another and really protective of each other. If something happens to one of them, the other two will subtly (and/or creatively) intervene while the offended one rolls their eyes exasperatedly but fondly at the same time.

Kami help him, but he’s starting to like them, Kakashi thinks as he eyes them over the rim of his book. Just as he does so, Naruto grins deviously at Sasuke, whom just blinks in response which an equally devious glint in his eyes. Their employer’s kid appears again to ogle at Sakura where she’s bent over to reach a particularly stubborn weed that just refuses to be plucked. Before Kakashi can do anything to make the little twerp scamper, his face falls into frown and he starts absently scratching himself. He starts softly and then it evolves into a frantic scratching before he disappears inside the house again calling for his dad. Naruto and Sasuke smirk subtly and Sakura is none the wiser. After a little bit, when she apparently notices her stalker hasn’t showed up again, she looks at the boys suspiciously (both look at her as if butter won’t melt in their mouths) and then rolls her eyes.

Yes, Kakashi’s starting to like them all right.

Much later, after finishing their mission and on their way to the Hokage Tower to submit their report, a hawk flies over them a few times in circles and then leaves towards the commercial district. Kakashi frowns and edges the kids into a faster pace. He leaves them submitting their report (they have proved their capacity to do so unsupervised) and takes the stairs towards the Hokage’s office.

Turns out elder Shimura Danzō is dead.

“Poisoned,” the ANBU commander explains to the whole room. All former ANBU operatives have been recalled. There are people in this room whose face Kakashi is seeing for the first time despite having worked with them more than once. “There are no leads on that front, but there are more pressing matters to attend at this point.”

Kakashi has a feeling that he’s not going to like what comes out of the man’s mouth next.

(He doesn’t.)

—

It’s dark when he finally leaves the Hokage Tower. Despite having been released from service not long ago, Kakashi is sporting his mask once again because the truth is that one never stops being an ANBU (not even after retirement).

He’s been given half an hour to settle his things before undertaking a month (possibly two) long S-Rank mission with an entire platoon and as much as he’d love to have the cheeky little brats thinking he’s testing their tracking skills again (ahhhh, those were a fun couple of days) it may be pushing it a little too far in this case, so he has to inform them and at least set some kind of schedule so they don’t fall behind. It may be cruel, but the best he can do with so little forewarning is to give them a letter for Gai so that they can train at least two or three days a week with a proper sensei.

(If he comes back to see his cute little monsters clad in green spandex he will kill Gai.)

But to actually give them that letter he has to find them first. Sakura wasn’t at home and when he tried Naruto’s apartment he found it completely empty. That only leaves Sasuke and if he’s missing too, he’s going to have to leave Pakkun with both the explanation and the letter and leave.

He finally gets to the Uchiha district and to the house Sasuke is inhabiting. Last time he was here was before he tested them to become genin and it hasn’t changed much. From the rooftop of the house he wonders if he should go through the front door or just knock on the window. Before he can make up his mind, the window just below opens and Naruto’s sleepy voice comes out.

“Senseiii,” he lets out through a yawn, “stop being a creep and get inside already so I can go back to bed.”

“Mah, Naruto-kun,” Kakashi croons after letting himself fall to the windowsill, “you shouldn’t be so careless, I could have been an enemy.”

“Ehhh? But, sensei, I knew it was you,” Naruto whines rubbing his eyes.

“Mmhm,” Kakashi hums. He looks inside briefly and he spots a big futon. Sasuke is curled like a kitten around Sakura, both of them deep asleep. Well, at least that answers the question about where both Naruto and Sakura went, and if what he sees is any indication, this is a regular occurrence, so next time he’ll come here directly. “I’ll be gone on a mission for at least a month, Naruto-kun. Maybe two if things get complicated. In the meantime, you won’t be able to take missions since you don’t have a jōnin with you, but I expect you to keep training, understood?” He smiles threateningly for good measure and Naruto nods grimacing. “If you need any guidance, look in training ground 10 for Maito Gai and give him this.” He hands him the hastily scribbled letter and Naruto takes it hesitantly. If the shudder that shakes him is any indication, the blond already knows who Gai is. Kakashi’s lips twitch in amusement. “Ja ne, then. Be good or don’t get caught.”

“Wait, sensei!” Kakashi turns again to look at his student, only to see him leave the room running.

While he was talking to Naruto, both Sakura and Sasuke have woken up and are staring blearily from the futon. She disentangles from Sasuke and crawls to grab something from her backpack. She crawls towards Kakashi and without even getting from the floor she hands him a box. After he takes it, she lets herself fall to the floor and just curls there, dozing. Sasuke rolls his eyes and gets up with a sigh. He grabs a tantō and gives it to Kakashi before bending to pick up Sakura with a grunt and carrying her back to the futon.

Kakashi studies the tantō curiously. It looks like a conductive blade, which is good to start with, but it also has seals carved on the handle. Nice. As for the box, he opens it to find what looks to be homemade soldier pills. Also nice… if they actually work. He hears Naruto come back just as he closes the lid and he looks up.

“Here,” the blond says passing him a box that smells heavenly. Kakashi’s belly chooses that moment to remind him that he hasn’t had anything substantial since lunch and Naruto grins. “Don’t worry, Sasuke made them.” An aggravated grumble comes from the futon and Kakashi smiles amusedly. “Take care, sensei, and kick some ass.”

Kakashi really, really likes his cheeky little brats.

—

It’s a horrible month and seventeen days. Out of all the missions Kakashi has taken in his entire shinobi career, this ranks high on his top ten of the let’s-not-repeat-this-again list and his whole platoon agrees. It’s a shame that for the sake of appearances Danzō’s deeds will be forever kept secret, because more than one of them would like to cut his body into tiny little pieces just for the pleasure of seeing his blood run (now that he’s already dead and his screams can’t be heard).

The brats’ presents were more handy than he’ll ever be able to let them know. The soldier pills Sakura gave him tasted, by popular consensus, like something that crawled out of a rat’s arse to roll around pig’s shit before being peed on by a dog, but they were incredibly effective (the best he’s ever had and with none of the aftereffects) after you managed to stomach them down and he doesn’t have even one left. As for the tantō, that thing is magnificent. It conducts lightning inclined chakra like a dream and the seals on the handle make it so that the chakra escapes the blade slower than any other conductive weapon he’s ever had. It took a while to get used to the potency (he nearly fried Genma and Raidō… twice) but once he had it down? It was amazing and useful in a life-saving way.

He never thought he’d say this, but he missed his cheeky little brats and is looking forward to seeing them again.

Hopefully not clad in green spandex.

Kakashi shudders.

—

Kakashi is going to kill his brats.

Gai hasn’t heard of them, they are nowhere to be found and he has to learn from Anko of all people that apparently they took his order to train or else way too seriously because they have been doing survival training since he left in training ground 44.

“Damn, Hatake,” Anko crows admiringly. “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

“Mmmm?” Kakashi simply hums because he doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

“You’re growing them up to be little monsters, aren’t you?” Anko continues. “I’ve never seen fresh genins survive the Forest of Death! What the hell are you feeding them?”

Say what.

“WHAT? THAT WASN’T VERY YOUTHFUL OF YOU, MY ETERNAL RIVAL!” Gai shouts horrified.

“Mah, some hardship is good for the spirit, Gai.”

“Exactly!” Anko laughs maniacally. “They were still alive a week ago, by the way.”

He’s going to kill them.

If they aren’t already dead, he’s going to kill them.

“Do you think it’s edible?” Naruto is asking just as he finds them, pointing at a spider that’s bigger than Kakashi that he assumes they have just taken down. The three of them are filthy and covered in scratches and half-healed wounds.

“Ugh, so gross, Naruto!”

“Tch, dobe.”

“What, teme! I’m hungry!”

“You’re always hungry!”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because we want to make Kakashi-sensei proud?”

They totally know Kakashi is here.

“Ah, my cute little genin!” he exclaims showing himself and the three of them turn, feigning surprise. “How should I put this…”

“Kakashi-sensei, you’re back!” they exclaim happily.

“… I’m going to kill you.”

“Uh-”

“Run.”

They look at each other, they look at Kakashi and they look at each other again.

They run.

—

Jiraiya-sama and Tsunade-sama appear and close themselves with the Hokage in the man’s office for three hours straight. Sandaime-sama is seen smoking furiously at all hours after that meeting.

Kakashi wonders about it but knows better than to ask.

—

Over the next month he trains them until they drop in exhaustion and they also take two D-Rank missions a day until they catch up with what they would have done if Kakashi hadn’t been sent out on a mission. Secretly he’s pretty proud with how they take their punishment for their Forest of Death escapade, but he doesn’t actually say it directly. Instead, he lets them take a C-Rank.

A C-Rank that turns into a A-Rank halfway through.

“Report,’ Sarutobi says frowning.

“We encountered Kiri missing nins Gōzu and Meizu on our way to the land of waves. Team 7 performed admirably but the demon brothers fled the scene before we could take them down,” Kakashi reports dutifully. “Then we encountered another Kiri missing nin, Momochi Zabuza, and we engaged in a fight. Again, Team 7 worked together to defeat him. Before we could take him down, though, what we thought to be a hunter-nin did it and took the body away. I was suffering chakra exhaustion and lost consciousness then.” Kakashi needs to restart his serious training again, dammit, because that was embarrassing. “When I woke up I realized that the false hunter-nin had hit non-vital points and that Momochi was most probably alive.”

“So you were attacked again.”

“No. Momochi refused to engage, as well as the other missing nins. He claimed that Gatō (his employer) was dead so their contract was null and void and they left.”

“Huh.”

“Huh, indeed,” Kakashi agrees. “We did get attacked by the rest of Gatō’s mercenaries, but between Naruto and my kage bunshins we drew them off.”

“And they named the bridge The Great Naruto Bridge?”

“Well,” Kakashi sighs, “apart from driving the mercenaries off, he did use the clones to help them finish the bridge faster.”

“Right.”

Kakashi is pretty sure he has missed something and he has the sudden urge to drop his brats in the Forest of Death (this time knowingly) for the next month because he remembers them waving happily at the leaving missing nins.

—

The chūnin exams come and Kakashi nominates his team. It seems to serve as incentive for Kurenai and Asuma to nominate their teams too but he pays it no mind.

(He’s too busy betting on his team’s favor. He’s going to make a fortune.)

“Keep your head clear and you’ll do great,” he tells them simply. “No torturing the examiners either. Remember they can fail you just because you pissed them off.”

They pout.

Cheeky little brats.

Kakashi leaves chuckling and joins the peanut gallery in the observation room. Bets are still running and when Anko assures him she bet for his team of little monsters he beams at her.

The first thing Naruto does is to hug the kazekage’s son, to his siblings' horror. Kakashi inwardly groans and the rest of the shinobi present look at him.

“The promotion of a good relationship with our allies is key,” he says simply and Anko explodes in laughter while Gai starts shouting about the springtime of youth.

It doesn’t get better from there.

In the first exam, instead of trying to copy or answer the questions, they use the time to take out the competition. Meanwhile, Naruto doodles happily (Kakashi spots Ibiki’s caricature), Sakura paints her nails and Sasuke sharpens his kunai. When the time for the last question comes and Ibiki starts playing his mind games, Sasuke is the one to speak out to call out the bullshit in the most sarcastic way he can find. It’s even beautiful, really. Sakura and Naruto seem surprised at first (and knowing them as he does, Kakashi is pretty sure this was another of their stupid competitions like when they fought to see who got tied to the pole) but then they fight to not break out laughing.

In the second exam, they ally themselves to Suna. It’s a little bloodier than Kakashi would have liked but it gets the job done. Sandaime-sama has faced worse political nightmares than two entire teams being annihilated in an exam so Kakashi is sure that he will be able to deal with Otogakure without any problems.

They also pass the preliminaries just fine. As they leave, Naruto convinces the Suna team to go to Ichiraku’s and try their ramen.

He debates what to do for the month before the final exam and then decides to just train them to the best of his abilities. Also, Jiraiya-sama and Tsunade-sama are still in town, so maybe he can convince them somehow to help. He manages and they do help. Kakashi is a little terrified about the results.

Needless to say, after the third exam is done, he finds himself with three newly minted chūnin.

Well, that was fast, Kakashi thinks with a twinge of sadness.

(He needn’t worry, though, because the brats won’t ever leave him alone, just like strange and unexplainable happenings won’t leave him alone either.)

—

Much time, redemption and a war later, with a world-wide shinobi alliance and as Rokudaime hokage after Tsunade left the post, Kakashi thinks. He reflects about all the unexplainable things that have happened since he became a jōnin-sensei and about their timing and he thinks huh.

“Done for the day, Hokage-sama?” Shikamaru questions when they cross paths.

“Yes, I’m having an early day. You should too, Shikamaru-kun.”

“Mah, I still have some things to finish.”

“Any urgent ones?”

“Not exactly, but-”

“Then you’re done for today. Hokage’s orders.” Kakashi smiles. “Go cloud watching.”

“Hah,” Shikamaru snorts. “I haven’t done that in a while…”

“Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi leaves and takes the roofs towards the Uchiha district. When he arrives, he doesn’t even bother with the front door and slips through the window.

He finds Naruto lying on in his back on the futon, holding a comic book over his face. Sakura is sitting on his stomach painting her nails black and Sasuke is in front of her with her feet in his lap, painting her toenails. There are various plates of snacks within reach and they occasionally reach to take a bite.

“Hi, Kakashi-sensei,” they chorus happily but not taking their attention off of what they’re doing.

“Question time,” Kakashi chirps. “Have my cheeky little brats been time travelling?”

“Took you long enough,” Naruto grins, his eyes darting minutely towards Kakashi before returning to the page.

“How sad,” Sasuke says without even looking from Sakura’s toenails.

“Naruto, Sasuke!” she reprimands them without looking from her nails either. “So sorry, sensei.”

(No, she’s not.)

Kakashi lets out a long-suffering sigh, comes near to sit on the floor and grabs a plate. Then he unceremoniously pulls down his mask because he figures that since they have never shown any interest in finding what’s underneath, they must have seen his face already.

Gasps ensue.