#and now i’m like ‘look our stupid 3d men are together’

[arcadejohn127-9]

I read the Diavolos ball and angsty stuff, can I please please please get a happy ending to go with it?

This has been a highly requested and I must give my poor followers comfort after this straight up angst

So everyone, let's get into it! Some hurt and comfort to soothe your hearts

Warning: angst, long

I'll be putting this under readmore as it is long and I have had someone before say they wanted me to add it on long posts, I never really got any feedback about what I could do better and how this will help with people's viewing but I understand why, long posts can be annoying

If you guys think I should do this with all my long posts please comment or dm me or even state it in asks/requests - I wanna do what I can to make things enjoyable for people

Part 1 - beginning

Diavolo's ball aftermath

It's been a few days since they've seen you; they expected to find you in the dorm. Some fear you went back to the human world; there was no messages, no note - there was nothing. You were completely gone.

Everyone was losing it. The brothers got more aggressively with each other, no longer able to have you come between them. Your presence was so soothing to all of them but now you were gone. As soon as they realized you were gone the whole air of the dorm shifted. It wasn't right.

Mammon got desperate to know where you were. He handed one of his crows a necklace he got you, you promised to never take it off. His heart shattered when he saw it was on your desk. He wasn't sure what he did wrong - why did you take it off? What happened to you?

It wasn't long before the crow came back to the devildom; reporting that you were in fact in the human world. The brothers were devastated. They had to tell the others and they had to watch the hopeful shine in their eyes die.

They could all feel thankful you were unharmed but you were so far. You did this to get away from them. You didn't even leave a damn note!

Diavolo ordered everyone to go to the human world. They all split up into different parties to get you, whoever could get you first had to interrogate you. It didn't take a genius to understand that the Noble told you something horrible - why else would you have such a reaction? Barbatos was tasked to 'calmly discuss' that night with said noble but regardless of how rough and merciless he was; he refused to talk.

It was wasting time and energy. If he wasn't going to talk then they had to get the answer from you. A few were able to gather the gist of what he told you from your conversation before you disappeared; you were convinced you were being used and just a replacement, a pawn to them.

They wanted the full story. The whole reason. Anything! Just to understand why you would push them away and disappear like this. What have they done to make the nobles words feel so real to you? They needed to fix it.

The demon brother's split into a team of two; eldest and youngest, the royals stayed together and the elder exchange students were a double team aswell.

The crows lead the teams their way, splitting up to different routes to see if they could circle you so they could talk to you even if you decided to run.

In the end they found you, you were across the pavement, a train coming. The pedestrian stop dinged as it commanded people to stop but the men couldn't help themselves.

"(Y/N)!!!"

You whipped around, shocked. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you but there was the boys. Your boys. Tears bubbled in your eyes. You couldn't believe it. They followed you to the human world.

The world slowed down; the wind blowing against you as your eyes widened at the sight of them. They looked exhausted, some even with tear streaked cheeks. The more impulsive bunch being held back so they don't go running towards you. The street lights illuminated all of you; their appearance looked just as broken as their hearts.

The train rammed itself between you all. Disturbing the moment with its blaring horn, the screeching wheels ringing in your ears. It was the second you had to decide; do you run? Or do you stay?

To let them get you and finally face your emotions or run away, avoid everything and keep letting despair consume you.

You stayed. You couldn't move at all. It was if you were glued to the spot. But you knew it was just your heart aching for them; desperate to hold them and cry out your pain.

As soon as they could, they all rushed to your side. Hugging you, grabbing at your arms and head to pull you close to them. You choked on your tears as you let the 11 men hug you and check your face and clothes. All just wanting to make sure you were really there and unharmed.

You missed them all dearly and you were so happy they missed you too.

But then the big question was asked.

"what happened that night?"

"he said he was happy to meet me...asked for a dance and I said yes, I never should of, he kept telling me I was just Diavolo's pawn, Lilith's replacement and convinced me none of actually cared for me....I believed him.....I felt so unsure and he knew so much about us I just couldn't stop the doubts in my head....I'm so sorry-!"

Lucifer:

He couldn't believe that noble said that to you

He hastily grabbed your face, wiping away your tears

"You will never be and never have been her replacement, you are your own person, your connection to our sister means nothing other than comfort that she was able to be happy and that's it - I apologize if we have made you feel like you are a replacement and have compared you to her.... please understand we just miss her very dearly but we all want you in our life more than anything."

You buried your face into his shoulder

Sobbing your heart out as you kept chanting apologies and gratitude in a broken voice

He silenced you, holding you close

The prideful demon hid his face as best as he could and let tears drip down his cheeks

He was so relived to have you back

It seemed that noble wasn't only going to be visited by barbatos

Lucifer was not known for being merciful

Mammon:

He grabbed your arm and hastily tugged you towards him

His other hand cradled the back of your head

"Don't ever run away again, you understand?! I'm supposed to be the one protecting ya and how am I supposed to do that if you're off running in different realms without telling anyone??!! That noble doesn't know anything! I don't know how he knew about Lilith but you ain't her, you're (Y/N) And that's it! You are your own person - you gotta call out my dumbass-ary if I compare or make you feel that way, I would never do it on purpose! I like you and only you! I can't lose you again!"

He pushed his forhead against yours

A shaky exhale leaving him

You tried to apologize but he cut you right off, hugging you closer

He was going to make that Noble pay for ever making you doubt yourself like this

To doubt how much he loves you

Levithan:

He was already crying

He was crying before you even considered crying

He rushed to you and grabbed your hands

"I got so scared I did something, Don't listen to that normie! Normies are losers for a reason! There's no one else I would want as my best friend - no one will ever be a better game partner than you! You always make me feel happy and proud to be me-! I couldn't ask for anything more from you! I miss Lilith but I miss you even more! You're my favourite person, you're not some replacement, you're you! You're my player 2-! I'm sorry if I made you feel like you're not as amazing as you are, please don't leave again!"

It wasn't long after his speech he hugged you

Squeezing you tightly as he relished in having you back in real life 3D

since you were gone he kept playing as your game avatars

Using ai set ups to feel like he was with you again in VR

That noble will not stand a chance against his fury

Satan:

He wasn't sure if he was mad at you or himself

It was most likely both - mad you left and let someone just destory so much work and progression in one meeting

But mad at himself for not making you feel secure

He couldn't bring himself to hug you but that was because he was scared he wouldn't let go

"I knew that Noble was nothing but a menace-! You can't listen to people like him, he's just trying to get to you and tear us apart - I don't know why he would do that but he isn't right, he will never EVER be right! You are yourself and never will be Lilith, I didn't get to me her or really know who she was but I do know you will never be her and never were her! I care so much about you and I will make sure to keep my stupid brothers to never make you feel that way again, I've missed you so much (Y/N)."

In the end, he fell into your arms

Holding you tight as he let out his tears of frustration go

You apologized but he just told you to shut up, he didn't want you to be sorry for being the victim

He already had plans on what he's going to do to that noble, trying to push those thoughts away

Focusing on how wonderful it is to have you close

Asmodeus:

As soon as he could reach you, he pulled you into an embrace

Shaking his head as tears streamed down

His makeup already starting to to drip along work his tears

"No! No! No! Noooo!! Don't listen to that horrible noble! He isn't right at all, he doesn't know anything about us or you! He obviously doesn't know how much we care about you and like you as your own person, I never meant to make you feel as if you were some sort of replacement! Lilith was her own being and so are you, your connection means nothing! I i will always be happy knowing my sister got to live the life she wanted but you aren't apart of that, your life is your own and you are nothing like her! I love you because you're you! I couldn't imagine ever loving someone as much as I love you, please come back to the devildom!"

He nuzzled his cheek against yours

Thankful to have you back in his arms again

He didn't like getting his hands messy but no one was going to make you feel that way ever again

He didn't care about that demons status

Beezlebub:

His hand landed on the top of your head

You flinched not expecting such a gentle pat but it only broke his heart more

"That noble knows nothing about you or any of us, he's turned my sister into an enemy to our relationship and I will not let that go on for any longer! You are not her and not her replacement, how dare he make you feel that way! you're apart of my family and I'll have it no other way, I really love you and missed you everyday you were gone - I was scared I'd never feel full again, you make me feel complete and when you disappeared I knew I wouldn't be able to protect you, I would of never forgiven myself if you got hurt! I want to always be able to protect you and have you by my side and make you feel happy - I promise I won't fail you again."

He almost fell to his knees once he was done

He was ready to swear to you on one knee, like a true knight

But instead hugged you

Mindful not to squeeze too hard but let himself be selfish and hold you tighter than he would normally dare to

He was one prone to be violent unless it was in sports or he was starved - the Noble starved him of your touch and kindness

He'll break more than just rooms once he gets his hands on that Noble

Belphegor:

He spun you to face him

Demanding

Needing your attention on him

It was only a few days but it felt like forever since he's had your eyes on him

"You're no pawn and no replacement, you are you and that's all I want, I don't want any one else, I know I've made you feel like a replacement - i did something horrible to you and then tried to make it seem like it was all okay after, I'm always trying to make up for that day but I know that is something that will always effect us! I missed you so much....you are your own person and you've helped me be a better person, come back home and let me make this right......you're all I want and need."

He broke down crying

Hanging his head low and it dropped onto your shoulder

He loosely held your waist whilst you gripped onto him tight

If everyone thought choking you was bad, just wait until they see what he plans to do with that noble

He couldn't stand seeing you so upset anymore

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

He gently held your arm

Giving it a small squeeze as tears built up

"He said all that? I'm sorry he made you feel like that, to feel such confliction and dread, You are never will be or were my pawn, you're a fantastic student and wonderful person who's did more than I've ever imagined Someone could do, if I could have asked you myself properly to be apart of the exchange program I would of but the world is not yet ready to merge and be aware of our existence.... please you have my deepest apologies and regrets that you felt this way and I've allowed such a person in my court, I will do whatever I can to make this right."

The tears finally fell and he became selfish

Hugging you tight against him, his fingers brushing against any skin he could touch

He couldn't dare to think how he'll be when you finally do leave the program

But until that time comes he needed to make it a good experience for you

If what barbatos did to him wasn't enough to convince him then he will not go back on his word

He'll fix this and do whatever he can to make all the pain stop

Barbatos:

He sighed in relief seeing you in the flesh

Knees buckling as he stood before you

His knuckles bloodied and bruised under his gloves

"I should of been more comforting when I found you, if I had known that was what he said I would of never let him be apart of the lord's court or be at that party, believe me when I say you are not a pawn or someone's replacement - you are so much more than that, you are you and someone that's made me feel closer to the present, to act quicker and stop using endless time as a excuse, I will fix this and make him regret ever uttering a word to you, I promise you."

Your touch was as gentle as ever

He caved, leaning against you

Happy to be able to make amends and fix the situation

The nobles dealt with him once and no matter what he did it wasn't enough

But he was merely holding back to be a gentleman, even if that noble now looks like a beaten raisin

It seemed he will have to do much worse to send everyone's message across

Solomon:

His face was gentle yet scolding

He gently brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray tear

"don't run off next time something like this happens, your life is so short and I hate to think would could happen if I lost you because you felt isolated even from me, you though you could find solace as both of us are humans but I was slow to understand your needs - you are deeply loved by everyone, I envy how much love you get and that's why I can't stand to see you run! I also love you and your presence, you have been so kind to me and I still have so much to teach you- please believe me when I say you're no one's pawn or replacement, you're important because you're you."

You crumbled completely

He hugged you as you apologized, calling yourself an idioit

But it only made him tsk, rubbing your back as he filled your ears with praises

He was sure the demons were going to rip that Noble to shreds but he couldn't help but desire his own revenge

Seeing you like this hurt him so much

Simeon:

He was so quick and gentle you could of mistaken him as a feather

He embraced you, cradling your head and rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades

"I was worried about you, I took you home and then I learn you've completely disappeared! No warning or note behind, you ran away - your feelings are extremely valid and I understand why you did this, It must of been so conflicting and you needed space to think and reflect, you're so strong (Y/N)! but you are also smarter than this, I feel ashamed knowing I haven't showed you how much I appreciate you being in my life and make sure you feel secure in the Devildom, I want to look over you but I've failed you already, that Noble does not know what he's talking about regardless of the information he has! I would never let anyone use you or let anyone treat you as some replacement, we all care so much about you."

He slightly swayed with you in his arms

Overwhelmed by his fears and the emotions that were rushing through him

He promised to never harm an innocent soul

That noble did not have one

He will leave the more physically destructive rage to the others

Wanting to merely talk and show the noble the error of his ways

Bonus:

You were back in the Devildom, Everyone was making sure to spend extra time with you. So happy to have you back and wanting to work on making you feel more secure. You couldn't stop how fast your heart was beating from all the overwhelming joy you felt.

It felt so good to be back. But you nagging worry remained in your head; what was going to happen to the Noble? you wished you could go up to him and yell at him. Prove him wrong and make him regret ever making you spiral like that.

When you brought up the idea, the men all looked at each other. A knowing look in their eye.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N) but I think it's best you don't see him but rest assured, we've dealt with him on your behalf and understand your wishes - let us know how we can help you feel resolved from that situation if this is unsatisfactory."

Diavolo answered. If it weren't the state the noble was in they'd happily let you chew him out but your heart and mind have been through enough already. No need to add on to the hurt with seeing what was left of him. They couldn't stand to see you upset again.

But you agreed, thanking them for their support and handling the situation. Unaware of their true actions. They all wished you a great day before going back to their own private meeting.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #obey me beezlebub #obey me levithan #obey me luficer #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me demon brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me imagine #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanon #angst #obey me angst #cw: angst

[neerasrealm]

POV: Jeff the killer kidnapped you and is venting to you about his internalized homophobia

I COULDN’T THINK OF AN ACTUAL TITLE SO I WENT WITH THAT

Anyway hi this is a jeffxben fic told from jeff’s POV. a little bit angsty but mostly just cuddles and comfort. and one-liners. lots of one-liners. The ending is a lil messy and idk man I didn’t know how to finish the fic so- ignore that

Based on one of these story starters.

Word count: 1907

There are three things you need to know before you read this.

One; hi, I'm Jeff. Nice to meet ya.

Two; I killed my parents three and a half years ago. I know that's a lot to dump on you immediately but it'll be important later.

And three….I'm...gay. There. I said it. I like guys. I'm attracted to men. I want to kiss guys. Or specifically- one guy. 

He has blonde hair, dark skin and bright blue eyes. And also pointed ears. He's a ghost, specifically one that's latched onto a Nintendo 3DS and a cartridge of Majora's Mask 3D. He looks like Link- but I'm not attracted to Link. Link is a twink and that's not my style. 

His name is Ben and Ben? Ben is a bro. He's my bro. He's everyone's bro- he has that natural charisma that makes everyone like him. He's friendly, polite, funny and laid-back. He's always down to hang out with you or invite you into his room to play videogames. Everyone likes Ben. But me? I love Ben. As in- love love him. I want to kiss his goofy face. His lips probably taste like cheetos and beef jerky. Gross. I hate how much I think about how his lips would taste. 

So now you're probably thinking "hey Jeff, why are you just vomiting your gay thoughts on me? Go tell him you love him."

But There's A Problem.

My parents- the dead ones- were really homophobic. Being gay just wasn't something you did. And it still feels wrong to me- which is weird considering the fact that my new adoptive parents are two gay men and my foster siblings are mostly homosexuals. But it still feels wrong. No matter how much I'm exposed to it I still feel that slight guilt whenever I catch myself admiring Ben while he trash talks someone, and I want to punch myself whenever I wake up from a dream about cuddling him. 

So that brings me to this situation. 

Picture this, okay? I'm sitting on his bed with a controller in my hand. We're playing smash bros and having a great time. I'm having...not a good day. You remember the dead parents thing? The trauma I mentioned? Yeah that's been haunting me all fucking day and I'm not feeling good. At all. And of course I'm not gonna tell anybody about it, because that means I have to address the problem. And I never, ever, address problems. Ever. They'll fester in me till the day I die. Like maggots.

That's gross I apologise.

But- yeah. I'm not feeling good and I'm hiding this fact from Ben because he cheers me up way better when he doesn't know I'm sad. 

"Hah! Gotcha!" 

"Shit-!" I swear as my character (king k rool, in case you wondering) flies off the stage. Ben laughs and woops beside me in victory. I shoot him a glare.

"Man you suck at this game." He laughs.

"I don't suck." I spit back. "You're just really good."

"Suuure you are." The smug look he gives me makes me wanna punch him. My hand curls into a fist in my lap. I grunt at him in response. He laughs and nudges me. "Hey it's alright Jeffy," I hate that nickname with the burning passion of a thousand suns. "You'll learn how to play soon enough."

"Lay off, man." I mutter back. I drop the controller and he snickers.

"Aww c'mon don't tell me you're rage quitting on me."

"Shut up dude just-" I shoot him an agitated look. "Just shut your stupid mouth okay?"

His smile drops. "Hey, you okay man?" Shit. He sounds worried.

"I'm fine." I grunt back. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. "Get off."

The hand withdraws. I hear him shift on the bed next to me. "Hey, dude-" he frowns. "Are you feeling alright today? Do you- need to talk or chill or…?"

I glare at Ben. He's being nothing but supportive and kind and what am I doing? Being an ass. "No I don't need to fucking chill." I growl at him. "I'm fine, alright? Just fine."

"Alright…" it's quiet for a bit while Ben turns off the game. Eventually he speaks again. "You wanna watch a movie or something? I'm tired so…"

This is a trick. He's tricking me into taking care of my mental health. Fuck you Ben, I'll be as mentally ill as I want. 

‘’I’m gonna go to my room.’’ I stand up and immediately get YANKED back onto the bed by my hood. Ben’s noodle arms wrap around my waist and hold me tight. ‘’Dude-!’’ this is getting a little tOO HOMO-EROTIC, BENNY BOY.

‘’Stay.’’ he murmurs. ‘’I wanna keep an eye on you.’’

‘’Why?’’ I snarl. ‘’Because I’m a stupid kid that can’t look after himself?! Huh?!’’

Ben flinches. ‘’Jeff-’’ he murmurs. ‘’It’s not that I don’t trust you it’s because I know that you need the company right now.’’ he frowns. ‘’Just- lemme keep an eye on you, alright…?’’

Fuck.

Fuck.

fuuuuUUUUUCK.

Why does he CARE SO MUCH. I HATE IT. I’m gonna slam my head into a wall. Gimme a minute.

…

Okay wall slamming accomplished. Back to my predicament. 

‘’Fine.’’ I grunt. He (unfortunately) lets go of me. It’s silent. And uncomfortable. I pick at my fingers. He tilts his head at me.

‘’So- anything you wanna do?’’

I wanna hug you and kiss you and tell you I love you please Ben I’m gay and homophobic at the same time. ‘’Not really.’’

Ben puts a hand on my shoulder and scoots closer. He rests his hand on my other shoulder and...oh god I can fucking smell his hair from here- that’s creepy. Why am I creepy. Actually don’t answer that one. He looks up at me, bright blue eyes shining with kindness. ‘’You wanna talk about it…?’’ he asks gently. Normally I wouldn’t talk about my problems. Ever. But Ben is giving me puppy dog eyes.

‘’...I’m just thinking about mom and dad.’’ I mumble. He nods. ‘’They- treated me like shit. And I keep thinking about the shit they’d say to me-’’ I look down at him. He nods encouragingly. ‘’It’s like...they fucking hated me for all the shit I did- and now I’m here and people are understanding? And Slender- is actually trying to learn why I’m like this? Like- diagnosing me and shit to try and help…’’ I frown. ‘’And I’m just thinking like- if they’d sent me to a therapist would it be different? If I’d just gotten diagnosed or something-’’ I shake my head. ‘’I dunno man…’’

He sits up a bit. He hugs me, pulling me against him. My face goes fucking red. ‘’Maybe things would’ve…’’ he murmurs. ‘’But we can’t change the past...there’s no magic ocarina to take us back in time unfortunately.’’ of course he made a zelda reference. Of course. ‘’We just gotta accept what we got now,’’ he smiles. ‘’And we got each other, right? That’s something to be happy about, isn’t it?’’

Oh god Jeff don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of the man you love. 

…

And you’re crying. Good job Jeff.

I’m not a loud crier. But I am a gross crier. I get all snotty and stuttery and can’t get my voice out properly. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and silently roll down my gross scarred face. Ben reaches over and brushes them off with cold fingers. He feels cold as he hugs me but I don’t care. I wrap an arm around him and tug him closer. I can feel his breath on my neck as he gently shushes me. He sounds so caring, so...loving. Like a parent should treat their mentally ill kid. 

‘’B-ben-’’ I stammer out. He’s rubbing circles in my back. ‘’I lo-’’ wait what am I saying. ‘’I l-love-’’ WAIT HOLD ON- ‘’I love you…’’

SHIT

FUCK

NO

WAIT-

He hugs me tight and I shiver in the coldness of his body. ‘’I love you too…’’ his voice is soft and gentle. I believe him. I believe that he loves me. Genuinely- like I actually matter to him. He’d miss me if I was gone. And that- that’s a lot. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like it wouldn’t matter if I disappeared off the face of the earth. You wouldn’t care, my parents wouldn’t have cared. But Ben? Ben cares…

Which is why I proceed to squeeze the life (or lack thereof) out of him and sob into his shoulder. He holds me tight until I’ve (kinda) calmed down. He pulls away and tilts my head up to look at him. As gentle and as loving as I’d dreamed him, he wipes tears out of my eyes. I sob horsley and stare at him. He cups my face in his cold hands and smiles down at me.

‘’There you go…’’ he murmurs. ‘’See? I knew you just needed to get it out.’’ he smiles at me. I just- told him I love him. And he’s not making a big deal of it. That’s good, right?? That means he accepts me- right?

Right...yeah. Yeah, Ben accepts me. Ben doesn’t judge. 

‘’Yeah…’’ I gulp and look away from him awkwardly. ‘’Hey uh- do you wanna-’’ I fiddle with my hands again. ‘’Do you wanna...watch a movie or something? Together.’’

He nods and smiles. ‘’I’d love to.’’

And so- we end up watching not one, not two, but three movies, late into the night. And the entire time he’s curled up in my lap, comfy as can be. As the credits on our last movie roll, he looks up at me.

‘’Hey Jeff?’’

‘’Yeah?’’

‘’I love you.’’

My face goes bright fucking red. I don’t need to see it, I can feel it. I bury my face in my hands out of embarrassment. I hear him laugh at me like the bastard he is. I shoot him a glare from in between my fingers. I want to say it. I really do. I want to tell him I love him back but- it’s- it’s hard. He reaches up and pulls one of my hands away, letting him see me.

‘’You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay. I know.’’ He hugs my waist and rests his head against my chest. ‘’I can wait...until you’re ready.’’

It’s at this point I start crying. Again. 

Ben shushes me gently and runs his hand through my hair. And...as I looked down at him- it finally clicked. I don’t have to put the shield up- not around him. Ben is different. Ben...Ben is good.

Yeah.

Ben is good.

I guess...the reason why I’m telling you this- well...not telling, I guess- writing. The reason why I’m writing this is because...I feel like it’s something important. I need to remember it because...it’s a step. A step in me learning to accept myself. It sounds corny yeah but- fuck off okay? I’m full of trauma and insecurities. I’m allowed be a little sappy.

I don’t know who’ll end up reading this- I mean I’m literally scribbling it into a notebook I found in his drawer. There’s only two people who I really want this to be seen by. Ben, because he deserves to know how much he’s affected and helped me, and two...my brother. Though I doubt he’d ever find this- heh- 

I...love Ben. And that’s okay. At least- to me, I think it is.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fanfic #jeff the killer #jeffery woods #ben drowned #jeffdrowned #jeffxben #jeffben #writing

[joshslater]

Great Meadows

@jd07201990 just dumped a bunch of unfinished scripts. So, with a few tweaks here and there, here is someone else’s content.

Sitting here, staring down at my large palmed, clammy hands, feeling the burning warmth of new hormones rushing through me, I knew I was screwed. “What’s Ma gonna think”, I thought to myself, shuffling my large, sweaty sneakered feet. I kept having flashes from the trippy process popping in and out of my head. They said it’d take a few days for me to settle in. That such a big change is always rough, especially on girls. “I should’a just stayed home…” was my last thought before another skull-splitting migraine had me fall onto the stiff cot, passed out.

I’d been incredibly curious as to why my older brothers got to go to camp every summer, and I had to stay home, or enlist in summer gymnastics classes. They always came back at the end of summer, excited to tell of all the fun they’d had, all the cool activities, new friends. It sounded amazing! I had to sit there at dinner times, listening to them rub it in. Having only small accomplishments to talk about myself when it was my turn. I was tired of it. At the end of the school year, when it was time to sign my brother’s up, I made my move. I waited for mom to fill out their forms, and stealthily made a copy for myself, changing my name from Kari, to Kaeden. I know it is an all-boys camp, but once there, what could they really do?

On departure day I hid in the back of the truck, underneath my brother’s bags and gear, for the entire ride. It was awful, but I knew it’d be worth it when I got to see what the camp was all about. I’d been afraid my treasonous bladder would give me away, but the hot car had me thirsty in the trunk after the first hour. We arrived after a 4 hr drive, and while they got their papers handed in and sorted, I snuck out of the truck and into the grounds, finding a side door open along the main building. Once our parents left, it’d be too late for them to send me home, I figured, so I waited till all the cars left, and the sun started to set, marched up to the offices where the paperwork was handled, and put mine down on the desk. The man sitting behind it looked shocked, muttered a bit, then sighed, picked up my paperwork and read it over.

Name: Kaedan Atherton Age: 16 Height: 6’1” Weight: 154 lbs Hair: Blonde Eyes: Green Known allergies: none Dietary restrictions: none

He read though all of the false information I’d added, interests, past activates.

“Miss, Atherton. I assume you’re Heath and Daniel’s sister. Yes? Are you aware this is a boy’s summer camp?” I began to answer, but he cut me off, clearly not interested in having his rhetorical question answered.

“Aaaaa... This is going to create so much problem whichever way we go about to solve this… Are you really 16, or was that made up too?”

“No, I’m 16.”

He went silent and kept staring at the desk phone, as if he expected it to ring at any moment. He sat still uncomfortably long and then suddenly lurched forward, attacked the phone and dialed a three-digit number.

“Yeah, this is Robert. Are you still looking for a candidate for Moth 3?” Whoever was on the other side spoke quite a lot. ”Yes, I have a girl.” More talking “16” The line went quiet for a bit, then some more talking. “OK, I’ll bring her over if she agrees.”

Turning to me “Alright, there is something we can do. Spend an hour for science and then you are free to spend your summer here like any other boy. Would you do that?” I’m not stupid, so I knew there was a catch. Well, not stupid enough at least, but I made this bed. Time to sleep in it. “Yes.”

“OK, you are old enough to make a decision like this on your own, legally.” He stood up and walked over to a filing cabinet, opened the next to bottom drawer and rifled around a bit. Then pulled out a few papers, walked back and handed them to me. “So. Either sign this and stay, or I’ll call your parents to pick you up tomorrow.” The papers were dense legalize. Lots of cross references to laws and precedent, as if whoever wrote it thought all of this was self-evident, or didn’t want you to understand it. I thought of what the dinner table would look like the next time we all ate together. The stories we would share. How I would be a part of them for once. Damn right I signed the papers. While I did that he brought me a glass of water and a small dropper bottle. Brown glass with a rubber pipette in the cap. He poured some water in the glass, and added two drops from the bottle. “Last chance to go home as you are.” I emptied the glass in one go.

He took my arm and lead me across the camp, using side paths that went through the trees. I had a feeling he didn’t want anyone to see me. We’d barely walked a few buildings away from his office when the world started to sway. I was getting nauseous, having a creeping feeling of dread, and I think I saw a squirrel. When we got to a large, barn style building, we went to the back and he pushed a button on an intercom on the wall. “Code 91. Immediate response required”

He looked down at me and let go of my arm as the door buzzed, and opened. Two large men dressed in white scrubs came out, grabbed me by the shoulders and rushed me through. They looked eerily like Arnold Schwarzenegger, both of them. We went down a staircase as the door above slammed shut, and entered a room full of what looked like Frankenstein’s lab equipment. I panicked, pulling myself away from the men. I tried to run towards the stairs, following the fleeing squirrels. I only made it a few feet before they grabbed me again, pulling me to a chair and sat me down. Holding me down. Another man came out of a side door, dressed in double buttoned lab coat and goggles, pulling on a pair of gloves. He spoke in a hardcore, heavy German accent.

“Ah, Code 91. Haven’t had one of these in years. Wilkommen!” I tried to scream, but the orderly to my left clapped his hand over my mouth. They were both wearing world war two style gas masks now.

“No need to fuzz, it’ll only take a bit. I’ve gotten quite good at this particular physical! Now, Franz, Dözer, please take… Hmm” the German man headed to a computer and pulled up my file. “Please take Kaedan, to ze chamber”.

With my mouth still firmly covered, I fought and yelped as the two men carried me to a table, with what looked like a giant human shaped cake pan. They forced me into the mold, strapping my legs, torso, arms, and head down into the groove, and adjusted things until I was firmly stuck. I couldn’t move a muscle. I started screaming threats, until Dözer stuffed a gag into my mouth, with a hose attached to the ceiling. All the squirrels were lined up and just laughed. I was left in the cold metal mold while the Doctor set things up on a computer panel. I could hear him mumbling.

“Hm, Kaeden Atherton. Ah, yes, the Atherton boys! Good kids those two, talented, handsome. Hm, I think I know what to do here. Kaeden, says 6’1”, so shall it be! 154 lbs, check! Eyes and hair, no problem there. Now, details… details… I guess I’ve got free reign here. That is quite some athletic accomplishments you’ve listed here. Let’s use that as a guide for muscle development. Soccer. Lacrosse. Oh, climbing? Best make sure you’re a match to your strapping brothers, eh?” The doctor started typing things and using a 3D mouse, like one I’d seen in my graphic design class, to move something on the screen. Probably more squirrels. He kept rambling off little details as the top half of the human mold came down from above me, sealing with a harsh hissing sound and a cloud of gasses. I could feel my entire body slowly turning to strawberry jell-o.

“Now, skeletal and muscular systems… tall, thin, strong boned, muscle density upped a bit, rebalance muscle fiber composition. The brothers are quite fit, might as well match… Body fat needs to go down a lot. Oxygenation, cardiac development. There.

Hmmm, just a little more in the shoulders… that’s it, nice proportions, good shape.

Chest, check. Abs, check. Hips, check. Thighs, check. Calves, check. Oh… What about size 9? Yes, that ratio of fitting… no, let’s go 10 to be sure.

Now, for the secondary features. Would’ve been easier had you been younger, but I can fix this. I think, second to highest levels. Ah, definitely. Just like Heath, no, more so! May as well go full out. Dial it up to 10.

Hormone levels, highest. Ooh, right, must match the physical bits. This will be an interesting summer for you in an all male camp. I think Miss Atheron might be the new alpha in the family when this is all settled.

What settings have we left? Hmm... Looks like you’ll be a lucky lad! 8” to be proportional to the height… you know what, let’s go for 10 again… yes, yes, and hmm, a bit thicker and make those a bit larger… there, perfect! A well built young man. On those hormone levels we’ll probably see a lot of development during the summer as well.

Now, I think we’re set! Alright, Alright, here we go! Mr. Atherton, Welcome to Great Meadows Boy’s Camp!”

With that, he pushed one last button on the control panel, and I felt the metal mold heat up and start to vibrate. I tried screaming, tears welling up in my eyes as pain shot through my body. All the squirrels ran away.

When I woke up in the rickety wooden cabin I had a pounding head ache and was completely parched. I had no idea what was real and what had been hallucinations. I was pretty sure my raging hard on was real, and the implications of that wasn’t lost. I would definitively have something to talk about at our next family dinner.

[sixshooter664]

Panic Attack

“Well, Good morning, Olivia. Sleep well?” Tony laughed teasingly as I entered the communal kitchen of Avengers Tower. I rolled my blue eyes, ignoring him as I headed for the coffee pot on the far counter. “Ohhh, details.” Clint chimed in, from his spot on the island barstool beside my best friend, Nat. “Yeah, Liv. We wanna know.” The red haired assassin prodded, taking a sip from her glass of orange juice innocently.

I shot her a death glare that was involuntarily replaced by a playful grin. “I slept fine, thank you.” I replied pointedly, referring to last night’s group gathering for a movie. I’d fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Cuddled into my best friend/crush—Bucky’s—chest. “Ye-ah, you did.” Tony singsonged, waggling an eyebrow at me suggestively as I poured cream and sugar into my now full mug of coffee.

Hopping up on the edge of the kitchen’s white marble island, i swung my dangling legs gently and sipped some coffee. My three friends stared at me expecting me to continue. I didn’t. Only sipped some more coffee and used the purple mug to hide my growing blush. Even if it had just been cuddling, it made my heart rate spike whenever I thought of it. Which had been a lot over the past few hours when I hid in my room so I wouldn’t have to answer questions about it. Obviously, that failed when my coffee addiction became too strong and I found my way into this little trap my friends had just sprung on me.

“We’re just friends, Tony.” I reminded, hiding my disappointment behind my mug again. I wanted to be more with Bucky, but... ‘But that’s not going to happen, so take what you can get.’ My brain piped up unhelpfully. Across the room, a boisterous laugh erupted. We all glanced over to see who was entering the room. It was the twins. Wanda must’ve been the one to laugh because Pietro—as always— was stuffing his face with sugary food. “Just friends? You and Bucky?” The female Maximoff guffawed again. “Oh, that’s hilarious, Liv, sweetie. I mean, it’s so obvious you guys have some unexplored feelings for each other.” Flummox twisted and coiled within me like a snake. And, knowing I’d probably regret it, I asked what Wanda meant. With a grin, she opened her mouth to respond, but —of course—Tony jerked up and half ran/half fell towards the twins.

Startled, the younger twin stepped back. Automatically, Pietro started forward protectively, coming to a stop half in front of his sister. I smiled at the little display, took another swig of coffee. “Oh please, let me tell her! Oh please, oh please, OH PLE-ASE!” Tony begged, cutting off whatever Wanda was planning on saying. He didn’t even glance at Pietro. Rolling her eyes, Wanda detoured around the two men in her way and strutted towards us three assassins seated at—or on—the island.

“Fine. I guess.” She sighed dramatically, pouring her own cup of coffee. I snickered and she copied the action. “Ok! Ok, Liv—pay attention! JARVIS is going to play a video, but I want—no, no, I need you—to listen to the audio, ok? Listen to the audio!” Tony shrieked excitedly, racing to me and placing his hands firmly on my knees. His brown eyes bored into mine, a craziness igniting in both his irises and on his lips. Suddenly nervous, I agreed. Triumphant, Tony glanced up at the ceiling high above, calling out way to loudly for so early in the morning. “JARVIS! Play the footage!”

The tower’s AI responded instantly, bringing up the requested recording in a holographic display in the middle of the room. It was of last night’s movie-watching event. It showed mini 3D versions of all of us entering the media room and putting on a movie. Of Bucky and I cuddling on the couch together. Of me eventually falling asleep in his strong arms. “Skip forward, skip forward!” Tony ordered.

I took another sip, watching the screen as it skipped forward. “Here!” Tony half screeched as the footage he wanted got to a certain point. JARVIS played the recording, turning up the volume so we could hear the sound. For a second, my eyes wandered around to look at the half of my friends that were in here. They were all grinning like kids in a candy store. Except Tony—he was beaming and bouncing up and down.

Then, a quiet voice coming from the recording yanked my attention back to it. It was the on-screen Bucky, murmuring as the rest of footage us slept. Eyebrows drawing downward, I leaned forward to hear better, my legs coming up to rest in a crossed position on the marble countertop I was seated on.

The volume increased again, allowing digital Bucky’s voice to clearly reach my ears. I couldn’t be sure due to all the shadows of the room, but it seemed like Bucky was speaking to himself. Thinking out loud to himself. Disinterested, I chugged some my coffee, reaching over and preparing more for myself once the mug was empty. Until I heard my name. I set my coffee cup down and refocused on the recording. On what my best friend was whispering in the darkness.

“...feelings...help me be who I used to be, Livvie....I’ll always be here for you..” Bucky’s gentle tone continued. The recording zoomed in, clearly showing how computer Bucky was pressing his lips to my forehead tenderly. My heart soared. Then dropped. This had to be fake. Bucky would never do this. I wouldn’t let myself believe anything else. “Oh, are those wedding bells I hear?” Tony enquired. Wanda shushed him instantly. Pietro laughed jeeringly, only to have Wanda shush him just as harshly a second later.

“I—I don’t know how to say this to you, Livvie. Which is why I guess I’m telling you this now... I—um, I—” I leaped off the corner, charged through the holographic display so it wouldn’t be able to form anymore and told JARVIS to shut it off. The AI complied instantly, apologizing. I waved it away. It wasn’t his fault. “This doesn’t m—mean anything. Please—I just—don’t li—” I cut myself off, not sure what to do. Shakily, I exhaled. I couldn’t think straight through the pain. This couldn’t be real and it was cruel of Tony to play this kind of prank on me.

A sharp inhale and retreating footsteps sounded from behind me. I saw the eyes of those in front of me widen. I whipped around, scared that I’d be right in my prediction as to who had been standing there. My heart fell as my suspicions were confirmed. Bucky. He’d heard my lie, I could tell. He slowly backed away, a hurt expression on his handsome face and his breaths coming out as heaving gasps. A moment later, and he darted away. He was having a panic attack. Because of me. ‘Oh my god, it was real.’

Throwing a dark look over my shoulder at Tony, I bolted from the kitchen. Chasing after my best friend. Wanting to catch up to him. Wanting what? To apologize? To explain? I didn’t know. Bucky’s longer legs carried him out of sight quickly, but I knew where he was going—the training room. He’d take the stairs, he always did. His claustrophobia acted up in elevators. “JARVIS! Get me to the training room!” I huffed out once the doors opened enough for me to slip inside the enclosed space.

Bucky was already disappearing around the corner towards the punching bags when the doors finally dinged open on the right floor a couple minutes later. “Bucky!” I rushed forward. But so did he. “Bucky, please! I was lying to Tony because I thought he faked the recording! Bucky I know you can hear me—just listen!” He stopped suddenly, heaving as he collapsed to the safety mat-covered floor under our feet. Fear jetted through my body as Bucky mumbled something in Russian. He was remembering again. Remembering his time with HYDRA.

Everything that had just transpired flew from my mind like a caged bird when it sees its first chance at freedom. My best friend needed help. I dashed closer, falling to my knees in front of him. I grasped him by his forearms tightly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. HYDRA can’t hurt you anymore.” I soothed with wide, worry filled, eyes. “Get out—Please—I don’t wanna—hurt you.” Bucky wheezed, weakly reaching up and pushing on my knee. I said the first thing that came to my mind, “I’m not leaving you, Bucky. Not ever.”

“Pl—ease, Doll. I c—can’t—breathe. I—c—it—hurts—s.” I inched closer, moved my hands up to grip his shoulders. “Shh, Shh, Bucky. Look at me, ok? Focus on my voice.”

“I—”

“Hush, Bucky, listen. Just—just listen to me.” Bucky nodded. It was all he could do at the moment. Encouraged, I continued, “Okay, I want you to remember—remember us, ‘kay? Remember when we first met—yeah? At Tony’s party. Someone roofied me, tried to hurt me, and you stopped them, remember? You saved my life.” My best friend grunted, his metal hand clenching and unclenching on the floor beside him. I inched a little closer. “Or the time you and me had a mission in Norway. And we had to pretend we were married and on our honeymoon as our cover?” Bucky let loose a strangled laugh. I grinned, gaining confidence. “You remember when we built that blanket fort together? And stayed up all night watching Disney movies to get you caught up?”

“And that time we pranked Clint by putting rubber cement in the vents so he couldn’t use them—how it took a month for him to get them all cleared out?” Bucky nodded, his breathing slowly starting to even out. I went on, not noticing the way he was looking at me as he fought for air. “Remember that time we got lost in IKEA and Steve and Nat had to come and rescue us? Or the other time we got lost in IKEA and we were stuck in there ‘til morning? We gave that new part time employee quite the scare, didn’t we?” I laughed. Bucky grinned. It was working! His panic attack was going away!

“Remember all the thunderstorms we got through together? And last night—during the movie when we cuddled? You’ve always been the best cuddler, Bucky.” That was the wrong thing to bring up—the cuddling. I was so stupid—that’s why we were here in the first place! Bucky’s panic attack returned full force. As did my worry for my best friend. I inched closer once again, brought my hands up to cup Bucky’s cheeks gently. “Oh, Shh. Shh, Bucky. It’s okay. It’s okay.” His dazed, scared, eyes locked on mine, two shades of blue, both alight with a strange mix of concern and—something else? Bucky’s eyes dipped down to my lips and his breathing picked up in panic.

I have to slow his breathing, before he passes out! My own panic washed over me as I tried to figure out how to calm my best friend down. Talking wasn’t working this time. My mind raced. My best friend gasped. Abrupt calm slid over me like a blanket. ‘Get him to hold his breath.’ My brain was right. But how? ‘You could kiss him.’ My brain offered. If I wasn’t so worried, I would’ve blushed. Instead, I scooted forward for the final time, brushed my finger tips down Bucky’s cheek bones. His steel blue eyes dipped down again as he shivered under my caress.

I swallowed. Leaned in. And, without a second thought, pressed a slow kiss to the super soldier’s soft lips. He made a tiny noise of surprise—but didn’t hesitate to kiss back. Fireworks exploded through my head, followed by butterflies. My heart cried out, breaking itself open, only to fill itself back up with a wonderful, overpowering—feeling. Love. This is love, I realized. I love my best friend. After another moment, I pulled away to check on said best friend. His panic attack had stopped. I breathed out in relief, shutting my eyes for a second. ‘Thank the gods,’ I thought, my eyes flickering back open and looking to Bucky.

He was staring at me, his expression a mix of shock and something else. “D—did you just kiss me, Doll?”

“I—” wasn’t even sorry. I was in love. “I think— I’m in love with you, Soldier. So, yeah, I guess so.” I inhaled, nervous. “But I guess now I’d like to know—if you feel the same—about me?” My best friend was silent as he stared. My brow furrowed in concern, “Bucky? Are you okay?” He started, then, emerging from his daze like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

“Livvie?”

“Yeah?”

He inhaled, grabbed my hand in both of his, held it like it was a lifeline. “Falling in love with you wasn’t apart of my life plan—but I don't regret it. Not for a second, Doll.”

“Really?” Tears of joy prickled in my eyes and I happily blinked then away, beaming brighter than the sun. “Yeah, Livvie.” He murmured, reaching up and tucking a strand of my long blonde hair behind my ear. My smile dropped a tiny bit. “I—I’m sorry I lied about last night to the others. Last night meant so much to me, every moment with you does, Bucky. I just wanted Tony to stop because I didn’t think what I was seeing was real. But it is, I see that now. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky chuckled. “It’s okay. I don’t even care anymore. I only care about you, Olivia Rachel Hensen.” My smile returned to its original beam, one that matched Bucky’s. “Do you, um, would you be mine? If you’ll have me, I mean. Please?” Nerves mixed in with his elation. I laughed in delight. “I’ll be yours until the whole galaxy dies, Soldier.” With love burning like a fire in his eyes, Bucky pulled me in for another sweet kiss.

#whump #whump fic #whumpblr

[robronsecretsanta]

Fanfic: The Before-Presents

My gift for @mrshiftyafsugden

Summary: A tradition that grows in the Sugden/Dingle/Flaherty family shown over 5 different christmasses

24th December 2018

„Can you just do what I tell you for once?” Robert asked. His voice wasn’t loud, but everyone who knew him could hear the edge, the annoyance.

“I am just doing that,” Liv bit back and cleared the kitchen table of her school stuff.

She stumped up the stairs like an elephant and Robert called after her. “And come back down after, we need your help.”

Aaron came down with a box just as Liv had disappeared.

“Okay, this looks like half the stuff is broken,” he said and plopped it on the kitchen table. “But we can use the lights maybe. Do we really need more decorations though?”

“Yes, we do,” Robert said shortly. “It’s all the Dingles tomorrow morning, at our place, having Christmas breakfast. You know it will be over the top and they will expect over the top.”

He turned on the mixer to mix the pancake dough he was preparing for tomorrow.

“And you know you don’t have to impress anybody, right?” Aaron said.

Robert huffed out a laugh.

“That’s funny, you’re funny,” Robert said. “We both know your family hates me.”

“They don’t,” Aaron said. “They’re just… a bit protective.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Robert said. “Not that I blame them. But even more so I want to make it perfect.”

“Well, if I know one thing about the Dingles, they don’t give a toss about perfect,” Aaron said. “They want a lot of food and maybe booze.”

“Okay, but still, could you just humor me and put more lights up, please?” Robert asked.

The Mill was already decorated quite heavily, the tree was set up in the corner. Liv had decorated it and so it was very mixed, lots of ornaments, no lametta, she thought those were dumb, and quite a few lights. You could see little christmassy things scattered all around the Mill and it looked quite homey.

Robert had been upstairs, making sure all his presents were wrapped when he remembered he had a snowman family that they could put out on the kitchen counter.

He tapped down the staircase, but stopped before he could make it all the way down. He saw and heard Aaron and Liv in the kitchen.

“Why is he freaking out so much? It’s driving me crazy,” Liv said.

“Because,” Aaron said. “This is important to him and we support him. I want him to feel the most comfortable he can when having to face the Dingle clan, don’t you?”

“Suppose,” Liv grumbled. “I don’t know why he cares so much. They tolerate him, isn’t that enough? He got us.”

Robert didn’t hear the answer to that, instead he slipped back upstairs and put the snowman family away again.

When he came back down, he had two presents in his hands.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I think we done enough for tonight. Would you mind coming over here.”

He sat down and waited for Aaron and Liv to join him.

He handed them both a present.

“What’s this for?” Liv asked.

“I know I’ve been driving you both a bit crazy, and I’m sorry,” Robert said. “So I thought as a thank you for putting up with me, you each get one present a day earlier. Christmas Eve.”

“Dankeschön,” Liv said with a laugh.

“What?” Aaron asked.

“They do it like that in Germany,” Liv said. “Paddy told me. They hand out the presents on Christmas Eve.”

“Well, I didn’t know about that, I just wanted to give you one present ahead of time,” Robert said.

“Hold on,” Aaron said and got up. He came back a few minutes later with two presents that he handed out.

“Oh, fine,” Liv huffed and got up.

They all opened their two gifts; Liv tried to not show how much she liked the new backpack Robert got her and Robert looked confused when he unwrapped two hooks to screw in a wall.

“For the new bookshelf I’ll buy you,” Aaron said. “So you can have some of your books in the bedroom and not in one huge pile next to the bed.”

Liv scarpered off after the little exchange and Robert and Aaron laid on the couch together, facing each other, feet tucked away under.

“That was a nice idea,” Aaron said. “With the presents. Where did it come from?”

“Liv,” Robert said honestly. “I heard you two talking and she said it should be about us and I figured she’s right. This is our first Christmas together. Well, our first in this house and I figured it should be about us, not the crazy Dingle clan.”

Aaron smiled at that and Robert smiled right back.

24th December 2019

“Do we really have to go tomorrow?” Robert asked as he got the pie out of the oven.

“It’s just breakfast,” Aaron answered. “And Belle is so excited to host her first Dingle Christmas breakfast together with Jimmie.”

“I know, I know,” Robert said. “It’s just… I’d rather have breakfast here, with you and Liv. Just us.”

“We’ll have the evening just us,” Aaron said.

“You know I’m gonna be drunk by the time we leave,” Robert said. “There is no other way to survive a Dingle get together.”

“You just love the snowballs, don’t blame it on my family,” Aaron laughed.

“I do, yes, but I also love spending Christmas with my family,” Robert said. “You, me and Liv.”

“Oh, you big softie,” Aaron laughed, but his face grew tender.

“It’s Christmas,” Robert argued. “I’m allowed to be soft.”

“Of course you are,” Aaron said quietly. “Oh, but do you remember last year? Our little gift exchange? That was nice.”

“You two are both just big old softies,” Liv said, coming in the kitchen and trying to pick at the pie.

Robert playfully slapped her hand away. “That’s for tomorrow, leave it. And I don’t remember you complaining about getting two presents early.”

“Let’s do it again,” Aaron said. “It was nice and calm and us.”

Liv sighed and rolled her eyes like she couldn’t believe she was stuck with these two mush balls, but she was the first to go and get two presents from her room.

They met in the living room. Liv shoved her present at Robert and said: “Open mine first.”

It was a book. “Wild”. Robert couldn’t believe she remembered.

“Yeah, I actually listened to you when you kept complaining about that it wasn’t realistic when we watched it,” Liv said. “And I know you like to read and research, so I figured, maybe the book is better.”

“Thank you,” Robert said.

“Well, my gift fits with that then,” Aaron said and Robert unwrapped a small night light.

“For your reading in bed,” Aaron said. “So I can actually sleep, when you read ‘just one more chapter’.”

“These are perfect,” Robert said with a smile.

24th December 2020

“Okay, tell me again, why are we watching this?” Aaron asked.

He was half lying, half sitting on the couch, his back against Robert’s chest, a bowl of cookies on his lap that they both ate from, and they were watching “Love Actually”.

“Because it’s a classic,” Robert said. “And Colin Firth is hot.”

“Knew it,” Aaron laughed. “It’s because you have an insane amount of hot people in this movie.”

“Oh really?” Robert teased. “I just said Colin Firth. Who do you think is hot?”

“Liam Neeson, of course,” Aaron said. “And Alan Rickman.”

“You have horrible taste in men,” Robert said.

“I know,” Aaron laughed.

And it was due to their relationship, to the work they put in ever since they reunited in 2018, that this comment didn’t sting, that they could joke about this, about being horrible, about finding other people attractive.

“So, who would you prefer? Liam Neeson, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant or Alan Rickman?”

“Hmmm, what about that Walking Dead guy?” Aaron said. “Can I pick him?”

“Oh, now you’re just being difficult to annoy me,” Robert laughed.

Aaron had just opened his mouth to reply when Liv came in, she looked like she had hurried up to get home.

“Hey you,” Aaron said. “Why the hurry, you’re 18, you don’t have a curfew.”

“I know,” Liv said, looking around the room. “I just thought… well… is everything done for tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Robert said, looking a bit confused. “We finished everything this morning.”

“So, no panic, no chaos, no break downs?” Liv asked and Robert could have sworn she sounded disappointed.

“No,” Robert said. “Not unless you want to have one. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she said. “Can I join you guys without getting sick?”

“Course you can,” Aaron said and Liv plopped down on one of the armchairs.

“So, who do you think is the hottest?” Robert asked.

“Robert!” Aaron chided him.

“Sorry, never mind,” Robert said.

They continued to watch in silence for a few more minutes. When Robert and Aaron laughed at a joke Liv didn’t.

They didn’t pay it too much thought, Liv was like that sometimes, in her own head, not really paying attention to what was happening around her.

“So there’s no stress about tomorrow?” she asked again, out of the blue.

“No,” Aaron said. “It’s the usual Dingle Christmas breakfast, at Cain and Moira’s this time, we swing by Diane and Doug’s for lunch and then head home for tea. Everything is sorted. What’s going on, Liv?”

“Nothing,” she said again. “It’s just, you’re usually way more stressed and panicked and… well… need something to calm you guys down.”

“Ha,” Robert called out. “You want a present early! That is what this is about! You’re greedy.”

He laughed, but Liv’s face fell. “I’m not greedy,” she said and her voice dropped.

“Oh no, Liv, I didn’t mean it… I was just joking,” Robert said quickly. “I thought you said we were soft for doing that last year?”

“Yeah, well, you are, but maybe I don’t mind being soft every once in a while,” Liv said.

Aaron smiled and turned the TV off.

“Let’s do it! Everybody get one gift for each,” he announced and they all got up to get their presents.

24th December 2021

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Robert argued.

“You don’t…. seriously?” Aaron huffed. “You made that decision without me!”

“It was one call, Aaron,” Robert said. “She called, asked if we wanted that 3D scan and I said yes. I didn’t know you would be so against it!”

“I am not against it!” Aaron shot back. “I want to be included!”

“You are seriously mad at me for agreeing to something you would have agreed to as well?” Robert asked.

“Yes!” Aaron scoffed.

“Well, that is just stupid,” Robert said and rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you just be thankful that I handled it?”

“Handled it? HANDLED it?” Aaron’s voice got louder now. “This is OUR baby, Robert. OURS! Not yours. Not hers! OURS! I am not your nanny or the uncle or whatever!”

“Of course not,” Robert said, still not getting where the problem was. “So if she would have called you and asked, you wouldn’t have said yes? Even though you would have been pretty sure this is something I would have wanted? You would have said, no, I have to ask Robert first?”

“Of course I would have!” Aaron said.

“But the other day when she called and said she would have to push the appointment to another day, you said yes without asking me,” Robert started.

“Oh my God,” Aaron said and shook his head. “I have access to your calendar. I know when you’re free and when you’re not. This is different.”

“Really? Is it?” Robert shot back. “Why don’t you write me a list of what is okay and what’s not, so we can make sure I don’t mess up again. Because apparently that is what I do, right?”

“Oh, that would be a short list: Do not be an idiot and do ask your husband about stuff concerning your baby,” Aaron shot back.

“Stop it!” Liv bellowed, coming down the stairs. “Both of you!”

Robert looked at Liv and Aaron stopped pacing as she came to a stop in front of them.

“You are gonna be dads soon! Both of you! Real life dads, not pretend to be like you did with me, you are gonna be responsible for a little, tiny, human being and you are fighting over something you actually both want? It’s Christmas, pull yourselves together and be happy and together and think about how different next year will be! You can’t keep fighting about stupid stuff like this!”

Robert looked at her in surprise, then carefully at Aaron. Aaron looked at him and pulled at his sleeves. He shot him a half smile.

“I guess that is us told,” Aaron said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have got so upset.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Robert said. “I should have asked you.”

“Now kiss and make up,” Liv said with a grin.

They all laughed at that and Aaron shook his head.

“What now, family? Order food and Love Actually on the TV?” he asked.

“Only if you two don’t fight about who is hotter again,” Liv said with a grin.

“I’m in, but just hold on a second,” Robert said and disappeared up the stairs.

He came back with two presents and Aaron smiled.

“Are we doing this again?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Robert said. “I mean, if you guys want, but I really wanted to give you these.”

“All right,” Aaron said.

Aaron and Liv went to get their gifts and they all sat down together.

Liv unwrapped her gift from Robert, a t-shirt that said “Keep Calm because I’m gonna be an aunt” and Aaron got the first ultrasound in a little frame as a key chain. They both loved it, even though Liv was saying that she was never gonna wear it.

Robert just grinned at that, because he knew she would.

When the two of them were cuddled up on the couch, with Liv on the armchair, Aaron turned a bit and whispered in Robert’s ear. “I can’t wait for the 3D one, see our little girl as real as possible.”

“I love you,” Robert whispered back and Aaron smiled at him.

24th December 2026

Robert heard the key in the lock and walked from the kitchen towards the door to greet Aaron.

“Did you get everything?” he asked.

“Yeah, eggs and milk, but barely,” Aaron answered. “David said everybody seems to be needing milk last minute.”

“Thank you,” Robert said and took the bag from him before giving him a quick kiss.

“Eva is still asleep upstairs, I hope,” Robert said as he walked back to the kitchen. “Would you mind checking up on her while I finish this cake real quick?”

“Sure,” Aaron said as he kicked off his shoes. His jacket was tossed on the sofa and then he headed upstairs.

He came back down after five minutes.

“Still asleep and looking like an angel,” he said with a smile. “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m good,” Robert said. “We got everything else ready to go for the Dingle invasion tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Aaron said, stepping up to Robert from behind. “And even if not, you know they always come with food.”

He slipped his arms around Robert’s waist and docked his head on his shoulder.

“You’re distracting me, Mr Sugden,” Robert grinned.

“Are you complaining, Mr Dingle?” Aaron asked and kissed a spot on his neck.

“No, not at all,” Robert said. “Just let me get this in the oven.”

Aaron let go of him and Robert put the cake in the oven, adjusted the temperature and set the timer.

He turned around, leaned against the kitchen counter and pulled Aaron towards him by his belt.

“Now, where were we?” he asked with a smirk and their lips met in a soft kiss.

“Daddies! I’m awake!” Eva announced as she trotted down the stairs, one hand on the banister and the other one holding her favorite stuffed animal,  a monkey that Liv had given her.

Aaron pulled back from the kiss and said with a smile. “Hold that thought.”

“You bet I will,” Robert smirked back before he turned around to their daughter.

“How is that possible?” Robert asked with a smile. “Daddy just checked on you.”

“I tricked him,” Eva said proudly. “The trick is to close your eyes and don’t breathe too fast.”

“Well done you,” Robert said proudly. “What a great little actress you are.”

“Are you encouraging our daughter to lie to us?” Aaron asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, of course not, she was just pranking you, weren’t you?” Robert said and went over to pick Eva up.

“Yes, I tricked him,” Eva said proudly.

“Very much your daughter,” Aaron said and couldn’t help but smile.

Robert just shrugged his shoulders and walked to the oven so Eva could look inside.

“See, I made some cake for tomorrow,” Robert said. “You looking forward to having the whole crazy family here?”

“Crazy family!” Eva giggled.

“Stop teaching her that,” Aaron said, but couldn’t help a grin. “You’re hungry, Eva? Want some fruits?”

“No,” she said and laid her head on Robert’s shoulder. “Can I have my before-present now?”

“Oh, the before-present,” Aaron said with a smile. “No, not yet. And do you know why not?”

Eva pouted and shook her head.

“Because we need the whole family here for that,” Robert said. “And who’s missing?”

“Livi!” Eva announced, proud that she figured it out.

“Exactly, we wait for your Aunt Liv before we do the before-presents,” Robert said and let her back down. “And now your dad is gonna make you some apples, because you need to eat something, okay?”

“Fine,” Eva said. “Robbo wants banana though.”

“Then it’ll be apple for you and banana for Robbo,” Aaron said with a grin and started to wash the apple.

An hour later Liv came and was greeted by a cheering Eva who ran into her legs to hug her.

“Daddy, Livi is here, we can do the before-present now!” Eva announced.

“She did not get this materialistic streak from me,” Aaron laughed.

“Watch it, you, or you’ll get no presents this year,” Robert teased and nudged Aaron.

Liv laughed, hugged them both hello and went upstairs to get settled before they all sat down in the living room together.

Robert handed out his gifts first and when he gave his to Liv, she grinned and said: “Dankeschön.”

“Every year,” Robert grinned.

“Every year,” Liv said.

“Every year!” Eva called out and jumped on Aaron’s lap.

“Every year,” Aaron said with a smile.

#robron fanfiction #Robron #aaron x robert #emmerdale

[brod-anthropology]

This weeks watch

-Twilight

banging, absolute masterpiece, the best one in the franchise.

-Rebecca

Incredibly good! It’s a classic story and they really stuck to it, they didn’t deviate too much and it was well acted. It was just really well done! The costumes were great and unexpected, like they were period accurate (as far as I can tell) but they weren’t the normal drab and dreary that they could’ve easily gone for. And honeslty OOF!! I could go on about how beautiful it was, the cinematography was *chefs kiss*. It helps that they had a great set but even so, the angles, the way they used colour and lighting, so good!!! Would defintily recommend.

-Megaconda

It was uhhh, interesting. Enjoyable. A classic in its own right, but maybe not the highest quality one. But no in all seriousness it’s not a serious film, it’s not even a B movie it’s like a C movie- but it’s fun! And that’s what counts, it was enjoyable and even if the camera work was terrible and the graphics, editing, acting, writing and story all left much to be desired you can’t really blame the film itself, it’s not serious and I enjoyed watching it!

-Sharknado

Now if we’re talking about masterpieces, you’ve found the right film. Alright camera quality, terrible continuity and downright awful but incredible acting, it’s the film of a generation. It’s fun and stupid and silly and it doesn’t really make sense, the plot is one entire plot hole but it’s enjoyable! The ridiculousness makes it worthwhile, if not for the terrible CGI and A+ plus action scenes. Really not a serious film but defintily a classic to watch, it really speaks for itself- it’s literally a film about a tornado full of sharks, what do you expect from a film with such a banging plot.

-Sharknado 2: the second one

It’s just Sharknado 2. That’s it. This time he’s in New York not LA and they try and give some backstory, but it’s just Sharknado 2. Actually I lied, Billy Ray Cyrus plays a surgeon for all of 4 minutes, and it’s the performance of his lifetime, and it’s not so painfully dominated by Cis White men (though they still have a govern, VERY heavy presence).

-Bearcano VS Nazi Sharks

Really, you don’t want to know. Not the best thing to ever be made.

-Black books

Classic! Favourite series! It’s about an Irish alcoholic who owns a bookshop and his best friend who runs a shop next door and the guy that he hired to help around, it’s a lot funnier than it sounds I promise, there’s nothing spectacular about the editing or the shots but it’s hilarious and it’s my favourite comedy series and defintily a comfort- the writing and visual gags are banging. it’s not particularly serious but has a certain early 2000s charm that I don’t think would be allowed to be written into a show nowadays. But yes! Bill bailey and Dylan Moran!

-Treasure Planet

Classic childhood film! Watched it with Ellie, she’d never seen it!! Honeslty I remember it being great as a kid and if anything it’s only better now I’m older and I get more of the references, I think it’s one of those hidden gems from that experimental period dreamworld and Disney had (you know like the prince of Egypt, Atlantis, ferngully, etc...). It’s just crazy cool! The attention to detail is amazing and so is the worldbuilding, the animation and cinematography is crazy and honeslty it deserves a live action remake so much more than the Lion King or the Jungle Book and you can’t convince me otherwise.

-the grinch

This is actually one of the few Christmas films I’ve seen and I watched it with Ellie whilst having our little farewell Christmas decoration meal thing together. It’s just a classic really, there’s not much to say- the costumes are amazing, I feel sorry for Jim Carrey for the hell he went through for that look, and the whole design of it is phenomenal.

-home alone

Never seen it before Ellie showed me and it’s surprisingly good! For some reason I’ve never seen it and my family avoided showing it to me but?? It’s not bad!! I see why people like it so much, I can imagine if you watched it when you were younger it would’ve had a real big nostalgia feel to it and it does stand the test of time fairly well. The writing is decent and the gags are funny, and it’s a bit of a feel good so it ticks all the boxes for an alright Christmas film.

-Staged

Very good! Another favourite! David tenant and Michael Sheen try and rehearse a play over zoom in lockdown, it’s very witty and well written and it’s very very cool to see how well they managed to work with the limited filming options and adapt it to actual zoom calls and such, like there’s very little in person bits and even then its clear that it was done on like a phone (or at least not a professional camera) and I just think it’s cool how well they managed to adapt a narrative to not only fit around how awkward working over video calls is but make the entire plot essentially be that. Plus I think its kind of a testament to how good the acting and writing/plot is, like the fact that it’s so good and about 85% of it happens via video calls just kind of shows that you don’t need flashy cameras and sets and costumes, they made it good just by focusing on the narrative and acting out what they could in character (I know they don’t play characters in the show but they’re like caricatures or characterised versions of themselves you know)

-the Christmas chronicles

Surprisingly! Another good Christmas film. Santa’s a bit if badass won’t lie, and it has very thing you need: Santa in a leather coat, an annoying brother sister duo, a car chase scene involving the police, a dead dad, and elves that look like if rats developed into humans and not primates. It’s really a festive classic. (I know this sounds scathing but this was actually quite an enjoyable watch it was just a very weird plot,internally the brother and sisters dad is dead and that’s killed the brothers Christmas spirit and then the sister decides to video record Santa on VHS even though it’s set in 2017 and then they accidentally stow away in his sled and cause him to crash, jeopardising Christmas- that’s the exact plot). It was actually well done, the kid actors weren’t the best but again they’re child actors but overall the plot was interesting and it was well choreographed and shot, it’s a Christmas film it’s not a masterpiece but it was enjoyable!

-Disenchantment

A rewatch but still good, thought the 3D perspective in 2D animation does make me queasy soemtimes but we’ll ignore that. It’s very funny and quite tongue in cheek but what do you expect from the dude who made the Simpson’s and futurama, it’s quite a smart play on merging modern culture and references into a fantasy medieval setting though sometimes it does come across like they’re trying too hard, but don’t we all try too hard sometimes. It’s well made, not incredible but it’s well thought out, well written and well planned and it’s a real fun and easy watch and Im rewatching it so clearly it’s at least alright

-Hilda

Incredibly good!!! So so good!!! Like I literally can’t sing the praise of this show enough! I ya on Netflix it’s like a kids animated show it’s about a girl and her pet deer fox and they move to the city, and it’s like her with her friends going on little adventures and being a scout and whatever except it’s set in a world where like folklore and stuff is real- it’s more Scandinavian folklore so it’s like giants and vittra and trolls and druegens but it’s so cool!! The writings kind of simple because it’s aimed for kids but it’s still solid and the plots are crazy cool, the characters are very loveable and oddly well-rounded and they develop as the show goes on, the storylines are also super cool and interesting and they have really good continuity. And I really can’t tell you how cute the animation is, it’s really simple and Patel but it works so well for the theme of the show and the actual sequences are so fluid and dynamic it’s so cool! Cannot even describe how much I love this show and how happy I am season 2 just came out!

#101 #102 #104 #general

[jbinbcn]

North Trip

06-09.12.2018

Pamplona - San Sebastian - Zumaya - Bilbao - Vitoria

Long weekend trip with ESN! I had never visited the North of Spain so when I saw the opportunity to go there with ESN, I bought the ticket :D And I needed to take a day off on Friday (6.12 is a holiday in Spain). SO GOOD SO GOOD!

4 days, 5 cities, more than 1300 km !

And I could see my lovely ocean after 2 years! <3 But for sure I’ll come back there! Still so many places to visit! Asturiuuunuuus are waiting XD So let’s start from the beginning.

06.12.2018 Valencia -> Pamplona

The meeting point was at 5 ! I slept 3h... and when I was walking to the bus I passed so many drunk people enjoying the night xD Why so early? Because it’s around 6h in the bus, we could leave Valencia even earlier to have more time for visiting. I slept like dead.. I got used to it, I just sit in the bus/train/car and I sleep. The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere for a break. There was a huge restaurant-shop to enjoy breakfast. I liked that place. Nice to have something like that, not only McDonalds and Orlen hot dogs.

At 8 I enjoyed from the bus the sunrise. It was really cool one, but yeah, photos through the window...

A few words about spanish landscapes. What I noticed, Spain is sooo empty. I mean, when you drive a car on the highway, there is nothing, no buildings, no forests, nothing. Just mountains in many parts, and windmills. I mean, for me is totally different from this what I see in Poland ;) Especially those mountains, but this in -> Chulilla.

We arrived around 12:00 to Pamplona. Our first city. ESN guys took us around the center doing their best city tour. 

---In the brackets I’ll write the name in BASQUE language!--- Probably you know about Cataluña, independence and catalán language. Spain is even more crazy. In the North of Spain there is a Basque Country (es: Pais Vasco, Euskadi) - yes, we are still in Spain. It’s an Autonomous Community (one of 17). But they have own language, spanish and basque are co-official languages there. You think, yeah sure language, probably it’s just dialect, he he, no xD Euskara It’s one of the languages which the etymologists can not find origins. For sure none of the European and is a language isolate to any other know ones. It’s like magic. My personal feelings (don’t take it serious): for me it’s a language of wildness, of woodsmen, of Vikings! Like big bearded guys xD sorry 🙈

Still don’t believe me?  So let’s have a look at the examples of the words, english - spanish - euskara

my favorite one: butterfly - mariposa - tximeleta  others: hello - hola - aupa  yes - si - bai no - no - ez kiss - beso - musua beach - playa - hondartza xDDD restaurant - restaurante - jatetxea father - padre - aita  I love you - te quiero - maite zaitut ❤

Sooo? Do you agree with me that is like viking? XD BASQUE MAN TRUE MAN!

If you still think that I chose only really different words, go to wikipedia, find some article (like famous one) and change the language to Euskara and enjoy ;)  BTW, The girl from Bilbao said that Eusakara is a difficult language to learn. There are 12 gramatical cases !!!! Ok hungarian still wins - 29...  For spanish speakers:

 For others, from 1:30:

----------

But let’s back to the trip. 

Pamplona (Iruña) 06.12.2018 In polish - Irunia - is a cute version of a name Irena ;)

It’s a capital city of Comunidad Foral de Navarra (Nafarroako Foru Komunitatea). So it’s not a “basque” city - I mean, autonomous community, but it’s in Basque Country as a region (Euskal Herria).

It’s really easy to notice when you passed the border of Spain and Basque region. Unfortunately we didn't stop to take some breathtaking photos, and from the window.. you know..

Mountains appearing in the fog...

For me it was amazing! But not on the photos. Sorry not sorry.

Do you know what Pamplona is famous for? ---Running of the bulls (encierro)--- During 9-day festival of Sanfermines (6-7 of July)  First run is on 7th, at 8 am. And then day by day till the end. It’s a good time to visit Pamplona second time ;) Then I can describe the whooooole tradition. Right now just some words. Origins: 14th century, men wanted to be faster and faster with transporting their bulls to the market square. They noticed that the best way is to make the bulls excited and frightened. After a while young boys and others started to making a competition between each other - who will be the fastest in the pens without being injured and overtaken. Because spanish people are crazy, the tradition expanded popularity and nowadays it’s preserved in many spanish cities. In Pamplona tradition is more touristic now, so maybe is better to go to another city to enjoy the old tradition. Enjoy - maybe it’s a wrong word, I don’t know if I would be strong enough to watch people running and getting injured and those poor bulls which will finish at the arena for a fight and dead at the end with a long way. In 1910 they began record-keeping and since then 15 people died. Last one in 2009. On wikipedia you can check exact data if you are interested. ----------

Step by step how we visited in few hours Pamplona (with many photos).

We started at the Plaza del Castillo, center of the city, social life, concerts, markets, events. The buildings around are really beautiful and reminded me Krakow ;)

The weather was like warm autumn.. ahh <3

El kiosko is a heart of the square.

Then we just followed ESN and enjoying the city. Of course we chose city tour in spanish, si si!

Around the cathedral there was a nice terrace to have a view of Pamplona from one side.

ESN guide tour we finished at Ayuntamiento. Baroque style, lions bearing coats of arms and a trumpet-blowing angel.

FREEEE TIME, means exactly food time.

---And now food story--- Vasco Pais is known as a land of pintxos. What’s that? Do you know tapas? Yes, the same “style”, just smaller. Pintxos - small “finger” foods. Like small sandwiches (takie kanapeczki koreczki). Slice of bread with a toothpick in the middle holding the rest together. They can be warm or cold. You enter the bar and in front of you there are all available pintxos, sometimes in the menu you can find more, which have to served warm. How to order? Depends, there are 2 ways. If the plate is on the counter and pintxos are easy to take, take the plate and put there whatever you want. If there are no plates or pintxos are behind the glass, just walk around, choose what you like and then ask a waiter to serve you them. In some bars they are all in the same price so you pay for how many toothpicks you have on the plate after all, or just you pay at the beginning when they are served. Funny fact: you enter the bar and you see it a little bit (or veeeery) dirty, like the floor is full of napkins. It means that the bar is good one, visited by many locals. Wtf?! It’s more hygienic to throw it than to keep it next to your food. In pintxos bars there are not places to sit. Pintxos are for standing socializing. You have a pintxo, you talk, you enjoy, you drink txacoli (sparkling, very dry white wine). You change the bar. It’s like pintxos crawling. Of course there are competitions which bars serve the best ones. ----------

So we knew what we want to eat - pintxos - claro que si. And the best for that is street called: Estafeta (on this street bulls run during the festival). But we found “the best ones” which won some prizes last year: Restaurante Baserriberri.

When we saw the prices there… 3e for a small pintxo xDDD

But then we saw that the waiters are serving something really interesting. In the menu we checked that this pintxo - bOOmveja -  won last year some prize. Look:

The form is not eatable. It’s printed in 3d printer. Inside I tasted some parkerhouse rolls (???? butter bread?) with (as we said) sheep cheese. It was amazing, so delicious, mmmm <3 

What I found about the ingredients? Read that xDDD But I can recommend. 3,5e, smaller than appetizer but was good XD

Then we went to the plaza de castillo to eat what we still had in our backpacks :D

Uncle Google recommended us to visit Ciudadela - 16-century fortress which from the top looks like an extraterrestrial star. In 18th century it was a prison, now it’s a park to chill. We took some stupid photos and it was time to come back to the bus. 

On our way we passed Baluarte Palacio de Congresos y Auditorio de Navarra - cultural center, modern art, art art art. And we stopped on Plaza de Toros next to Bullfighting Monument to take such an awesome video (I’m wondering how many people had the same idea).

So there was nobody! Finally some old people appeared so I asked them (I knew that it’s stupid idea) if some of them can take a short video of us (because I wanted to be in the video as well…). I prepared my phone, the old man, how to stand, what to click, we did our performance.

I checked what he had recorder... eh yes.. one more time please, again, preparing everything I even clicked the start… but he clicked the stop to early xD 

Well… at least he helped!

So bus time again. Pamplona - thank you and maybe see you in July. All day should be enough if you (like me) don’t visit all museums from inside. Next city!

San Sebastian (Donostia)

My favorite city in the northern Spain !! I’d live there just because of the view and location. The other aspects I don’t know ;)

We arrived to the “hostel”. Exactly we arrived to some place in the middle of something. And behind the hill we found our hostel. If you have a car or money for the taxi - is ok, they are able to reach the place. If not, like we, only big bus, we had to climb and then go down to find the hostel. It was already dark so even we didn’t know what we are doing, darkness. Of course, mess at the beginning who is with who in the room (sorryyyy Carlyne!). But finally we managed it to be together (5!) and 6th one scotch-italiano new friend ;)

Some free time and then all the group took a public bus to go to the center for a dinner, before party, party and after party depends on your strength.

So it was night sightseeing in San Sebastian.

Of course we went to eat pintxos. So much tourists. We entered to Senra Zaharrean.

Pintxos calientes ;)

It was a little bit crowded, but we waited like 5min to get a table. In this restaurant you take a plate, put what you want, pay. If you wanna beer, the waiter will bring you. Or if you’re going to the table you can pay later.

Next step we decided to buy some % and enjoy on the beach side. Of course hiding, drinking from the plastic bag.. 🙈

And then ESN and others came and we went to do BOTELLON ---------- I think I’ve never explained what is botellon. So it’s before party. Like we meet somewhere outside with a lot of alco etc, we enjoy, drink, have some social life before going to the clubs. Clubs in Spain are open mostly after midnight, people appear there more around 1-2 because during that time you don’t pay for the entrance, or you pay less. ----------

So our botellon was on the beach, under promenade. Good place, I recommend you to visit it during your stay in San Sebastian xD

And because I love the ocean so much I was in heaven. I haven’t seen it for 2,5 years! Ocean is the power, strength. It keeps me calm but gives me the energy at the same time. I’m in trance like I wrote once on fb ;)

I spend I think 1h looking at waves, were good/big enough. Satisfying ;) But because in Dec I didn’t have any winter clothes with me and north is quite cold during “winter” I started freezing so I came back to the Botellon. It was first and last time when I could see the ocean during the night. Hope to come back soon :D

To be honest I was so tired after this first day and night in the bus. Or I’m getting old too fast. :( But when ESN said that we have a free beer in the bar Bataplan, I went there to enjoy it xD #cebula

But it was one of the worst beers ever. Ble.. Carlyne took wine and it was even worse xD So it wasn’t worth but at least was warm. Erasmus had a karaoke party there and later they were supposed to go to the club to dance but no idea.

We decided to come back to the hostel. But because it was sooo f. away we had 2 options. Walk 3,5km oooor take a taxi. The problem was that we were 5 and nobody wanted to take us, and 2 taxis - too expensive come on xD So we walked xD 40min, up and down. I felt like in Porto od Gdynia, we go up, we go down, do it again again again, do it again again again. But it was ok, I did my steps. 

The hostel was ok, just the shower “perfect size”, like you enter and don’t move. And localization - terrible. For sure not for me, but for the big group works well.

Morning we started with of course breakfast but then city tour in San Sebastian. We had to move out, take our things to the bus, leave them there and enjoy San Sebastian during the day - the weather was perfect <3

So now it’s time for photos ;)

At the beginning we had a city tour with ESN. We started next to the beach to go up for the view.

Parte Vieja - old town, just walking and enjoying. 

Rumbo! XD Better version of it. (Rumbo is a club in Valencia which I don’t like and I don’t recommend). Una mierda.

Can you see a heart?

I read on the internet about this basque dessert so we tried. Like sweet rice pudding - good one!

Ayuntamiento - It’s kind of masterpiece, no? Before it was casino, you know, politicians, businessmen, etc. 

And around:

Urgull Mendia is a hill by the ocean. It’s a perfect chilling spot for enoying the view. AMAZING!

The flag of Basque Country.

Mamma mia !

ahhh my stupid pink-eye-make-up... Sad story behind :(

Heheszki

Yes, I’m happy :))

Museo de San Telmo - the oldest and the biggest in Basque Country. From prehistory to modernity. The original part of the museum it was a Dominican convent (XVI) so it’s like mix of the styles. Yes, I haven’t visited it inside.

Unfortunately we didn’t have time for many things!!! But I’m pretty sure they are worth a visit. :(

Monte Igueldo - The view has to be amazing. You can reach it by the antique funicular railway. On the top there is amusement park and tower - El Torreón.

La Catedral del Buen Pastor - 10 000 whistles in the organ - one of the biggest in Europe.

Isla de Santa Clara - to be honest - I’ve NOT seen it !!! Writing this I’m reading some stuffs and then I see on the photos the island, I’m like wtf, there was not any island! I checked my photos, yes, on mines the island “doesn’t exist”, because I was on the other side and for me it was just one land, one coast. Eh :(  Another reason to come back! 

There is a small cafe and a lighthouse. But you can access it only between 1th June and 30th September via ferry.

Paseo Nuevo - fuck my life. Another thing which I haven’t seen! It’s a new promenade around the Urgull hill, starts in Kursaal, and finishes in the port. It’s famous for the photos with huge waves. Come on, it’s my element (no byłabym w swoim żywiole!). Who wants to join me?

Peine del Viento - one of the best-known works by sculptor Eduardo Chillida. If you wanna a postcard from Donostia, probably it will be with those sculptures. We were supposed to go there, it’s on the opposite side of the beach (Playa de Ondarreta) but we didn’t have enough time so we came back to the old town. AND if we had gone there, we would have seen also the island… so bad so bad JB. Those sculptures are so heavy and there is story behind them, but I’m not gonna write about it, not yet! I’ll go, I’ll explore, I’ll learn, I’ll take pictures, then I can tell you more - my version :D

So when we noticed that there is no time for the sculptures,  we went to eat pintxos, how it could be different. And to be honest we found finally cheap <more or less> and good ones! Oh yeah! So I recommend this place in San Sebastian - Bar Gorriti.

On the floor there were a lot of napkins so it had to be good! In this one you say what you want and the waiter will put it on the plate, what has to be served warm, he will give you in 2-3min. Here I tried txicoli, yeah, sparkling and sour. But the way how they serve it, look!

I took some bowl, it was warm pintxo and really good one! It was my favorite one I think. Inside there was kind of mixed meat, maybe some smashed potatoes and it was fried - recommend!

Next step was - to chill xD I could see so many things but what I did? I went to sleep on the beach xD It was really good siesta, I just lied down on the wall and I was enjoying my dreams. And from there we had a view on the surfers - this is surfing, not like in Valencia, minimal waves, no adrenaline, etc (but they do it in Valencia! lol).

When I wake up (15-20min, true afternoon siesta), I went to say goodbye to the ocean. Calm me baby.

Then the bus and let’s go to another city!

Zumaya

We went there only for like 45min. Why? There is an amazing view spot. Some scenes of Game of Thrones were recorded there (I don’t know which ones, I don’t watch it, sorry not sorry). But maybe you can guess from photos:

But it was the only place where was raining and was soooo f*ck… windy! Omg xD 

But it was worth it. You know, act like nothing is happening, just for photos, and then run away before you fall off. But amazing, amazing! Basque landscapes - wow!

zmokła kura.

Next city!

Bilbao 07.12.2018

We arrived when was dark already, so like always, just run away from the bus (because it stopped where it shouldn’t), take the luggage and enter the hostel. This time the hostel was more or less in the center so walking time (probably we would have walked even if it had been located somewhere outside xD). We had some time to prepare, do shopping, before leaving for botellon.

So we did. A good shopping. Just look xD We wanted to be prepared, not like in San Sebastian, just one beer. HE HE XDD

That night ESN prepared for us a dinner, like tortillas de patatas, chips chips chips, chorizos, jamones, etc.

After that we had some drinking games and then let’s go! Botellon spot was next to Guggenheim Museum - artistic botellon! And here will be the story of Bilbao xD

I left my phone in the hostel, because I’m with big group, we have a lot of vodka, just to be sure that I won’t lose it. The hostel had 3 doors to pass, entrance - code, room area - code, room - code. Better because we were 12 (!!!) in the room so impossible to share one key (like in San Sebastian). I hadn’t known that, and when receptionist saw me fighting with the “room area” door, he gave me a card with all codes and with the address of the hostel. I put it to the pocket with thinking - it will be useful. We (5 of us) started drinking during the way to botellon (you know, like there is no time). And yes, for 2 of us it was a little bit bad idea XD And when ESN said that we have to go to the club to enter before 2 (because for free), I decided to take a friend home, another 2 stayed, one left with ESN. So it was like 15min walking, more or less 2 big streets. To remind - I didn’t have my phone with me, and the other person phone didn’t work - wtf! Like just stopped, all apps from Google just stopped. We were left without a map… I just knew one street at the beginning and that’s all. So ok, we will ask on the streets. I even didn’t remember the hostel name xDDD Buuut yes, a had an address!!! <3 First person to ask - young dustman. When he showed me the map, I was like, fuck, we are lost already, after 10min we were somewhere else than we were supposed to be. Ok, he said, go straight and at the end ask someone else. But I really needed to use the toilet, like really. And then I saw some cafe in the middle of some park, it looked like private party, but the door was a little bit open, I entered like without touching, like I’m matching perfect to this open door hole. I said - HOLA, my instinct just knew were to go to find a bathroom, I used, I came back to that door, I said - ADIOS. Easy xD We asked again some people in this park about the way. Then we again asked some young guys, they look at the map and like - oooookeeeey, maybe we will take you there. They knew about crazy Erasmus life. They understood those feelings. We were walking walking walking, then they said that it’s at the end of the street. You even can’t imagine how happy we were. But then we were lost again xD My friend because of hiccup was hiding behind - glass lift xD when I was asking some group of old people (+60) about the hostel. They were like, it’s here… And then I look around, I noticed Carrefour (where we did our lovely shopping). I can not explain those positive emotions which I had that time… That happiness! When I entered the room, the rest of the group was sleeping already.. how?!?! We were walking for 1,5h hour… Love you Bilbao ;*

In the morning, breakfast, shower (we had 1 shower for 12 people, good luck), and let’s explore what we explored during the night. No idea how was our path. I tried my best, but yeah.. We went first to Guggenheim Museum. Ok, I was fascinated (I think first time) because I read a book of Dan Brown - Origin (Początek) last Christmas and there were some of the actions.

Solomon Guggenheim was crazy about abstract art, his flat started being to small for all his collection, so he set a foundation up and established museum - Museum of Non-Objective Painting. But the place was also too small. Frank Lloyd Wright designed a new building. When you think about museum, probably you think about old building, you know artistic, wow, photogenic, wow, art, wow, majestic! This one was different, was destroying all the well-known rules. The collection was growing and growing and in 80s the contemporary director Thomas Krens decided to set branches up. That time Bilbao was a dying city. There was an economic crisis, the big industrial companies crashed. The Basque government asked Krens to build of the branch in Bilbao, he asked Frank Gehr to construct it. It cost a lot of money, but was built on time and budget. Has it helped Bilbao? A lot! Maybe that’s why you know that city. ~9000 workplaces, during first 2 years more than 2 600 000 people visited the museum!

The building is made of titanium and glass. You can see there fish, flower or a sailing boat, depends from which side you are looking at (or how “creative” you are ;) ). Around the museum you can find:

Puppy - West Highland terrier, 13m, 16 tonnes, tens thousands of flowers.

Maman - “mummy”, spider, almost 10m, includes a sac with 32 eggs, meaning: mother’s protection - soft for children, dangerous for others - many interpretations.

Fire fountain - from time to time 5 fountains blast flames into the sky - I haven’t seen :/

Tulips - bunch of 7 large tulips (5m) like a baloons.

Tall Tree & The Eye - 73 reflective spheres, too deep to write.

Fog - it appears from time to time.

The entrance: 16e, 9e (students <26). Better to check the hours and if that day is open. 

We had a headphones with the guide (in english). You clicked the interesting number and you could hear the story. Take the map with you. 

It’s really big but accidentally I went first to the room with sculpture of THE MATTER OF TIME. For me it’s sooooo fascinating! It was in the book of Dan Brown and it’s not art which you should go deep in, like think why it looks like that, what the author thought, no! Richard Serra is known as an artist whose sculptures you can’t feel, you can’t get them with your eyes only, you can’t look at them and understand them. It’s all about physical feeling. When he started, people didn’t like his art, it was ugly for them. It’s impossible to show his sculptures on the photos, because they mean nothing then. You have to walk through them, they will work for you physically (no w sensie, że nie fizycznie odczujesz co ziomek chciał przedstawiać, zacznie Ci się kręcić, w głowie, albo jakieś inne takie efekty specjalne). Maybe you know those blocks in front of the Museum of Holocaust in Berlin? He designed them. On the photos - hmm you don’t know wtf, but when you walk through you should start feeling lonely, uneasy, lost. This art I appreciate :D So what about The matter of time? 8 sculptures, the lightest piece weights 44 tons and the heaviest 276 tons - wow - together - 1034 tons - wow! In the room next to it you can find everything explained and small version of it to have a better look at the construction.

After the previous night I was a little bit dizzy, but when I passed all those sculptures I wanted to die. It seriously works! It makes you dizzy, you feel like it’s closing you inside, you lose the orientation, you are lost in time. Maybe it’s better to visit this room at the end, to feel better during walking on the 2nd and 3rd floor.

One more room was quite interesting on the 1st floor. In the middle there were kind of bowels (flaki, wnętrzności, takie jelitka czy ciul wie co). In one corner just phone recording you and showing it on a big screen - lol. Kind of strange tent - no idea. Some flying big balloons, salt xD

And 3 figures of dogs. Here I listened to the record carefully but when the guide said that it’s Maria and Jesus.. well.. I changed the channel.

Next floors (2nd & 3rd) - omg so boring (sorry art lovers). Paintings, paintings… no sense, no feelings, no. Aaaaa and it was forbidden to take photos :/ I noticed it too late xD

But this painting... wtf ! Or there was one, totally black, with one white corner. No.

And then we went to eat! Pintxos, claro que si! We just were walking with ESN, but because the group was too big, we entered to the next bar. Also recommended! I liked it.

Plaza Albia

I saw that they also have those balls so I took one. Hmm it was different, not that delicious buuuuuut

The sauce was so so so f. spicy! But good at the same time, like you keep eating mmm it’s perfect, but when you stop... better to not stop XD

mniam mniam mniam!

Napkins on the floor!

Then we walked a little bit and decided to come back to the museum (there was our meeting point) and chill there.

Bilbao’s architecture:

Then we had a city tour with guys from ESN Bilbao so we learnt more about the city from true basque people :)

Beautiful sunset!

We decided to eat for a dinner CAROLINA! It’s like another basque dessert. But on our way we found bubble wafer which I always wanted to try in Krakow so... (szału nie ma dupy nie urywa).

And we found carolinas! In Poland we have something similar for winters and we call it - warm ice creams - ciepłe lody. Mniam :D

On our way to the hostel... we passed the street to the right and we noticed 10min later when we were on the top of the hill... Bilbao <3

So this night was our! Like finally we wanted to end up in the basque club! Por favor xD But this time we needed to take metro and walk a little bit (~40min in total) and we had botellon just in front of the club. But what it was a club! xDDD When we were walking from the metro we were like in the worst part of the city, between some industrial buildings, garages etc. Like wtf. And then we stopped on the parking, and we were playing games and drinking (more careful than the day before). When I asked ESN where is the club they showed closed door to one of the garages XD And yes, it was this, around midnight the door opened and you could see that this can be a club. How it was? Typical spanish club, maybe not enough of reggaeton and music to dance, like to many songs of electro something, but at all - not bad. I was thinking to walk to the hostel but when I saw the area and everything, nope, metro. Even taxi doesn’t go there xD And when we were waiting for the club, spanish people started arriving and it was like “village need for speed shows” XDD You know chicos in the cars showing their best screech of tyres (no powiedziałabym sądeckie dresy popisujące się paleniem opon, no poczułam się jak w Nowym Sączu przez chwilę).

So party in the North - checked. At least once xD

In the morning, zombie packing and let’s go to the next city!

Vitoria (Gasteiz) 09.12.2018

It’s a capital city of Basque Country (nope, not Bilbao). It’s not big one but it’s cute. We started next to the new cathedral, again we had a city tour with a girl from ESN Vitoria. It was a good tour!

This place is like social life center. During the summer old people (like +60) meet here to dance. It has to be so cute :D When I pass my 60 I’ll go to Vitoria to dance the whole night :D

This is the new cathedral. Why? Where is the old one? The old one was damaging and the city needed a cathedral so they build new one. But as I heard they are not proud of it - it’s ugly.

We started a sightseeing from a new part. Look at the architecture.

Iglesia de San Miguel

Plaza Nueva It’s like Sunday spot for locals. In the past it was a market place and bull arena. Now it’s a place to meet, grab a drink, etc. Every Sunday children come here to exchange with some posters, stamps, coins etc (pamiętacie wymianę karteczkami? XD).  

Plaza de los fueros Before it was Plaza de Abastos - for selling fresh products. New one exist for >30 years. Fuero - forum, open spacec used as market.

In basque cities they have a cool way to put the names of the streets. I like it.

In the wall on the right (second photo on the left) there is a girl. She was walled up and people say that you can hear her sometimes, well.

El Portalon c. XV, traditional basque food, not cheap one.

In Vitoria you can find some nice graffiti.

We finished out tour. Free time for food and it’s time to go back to Valencia. This time I’ll surprise you, for the lunch we ate - kebab! XDDD Because it’s big enough for 6h in the bus and it costs like 2 pintxos so.. xD

Then we walked throught the city, enjoying it last time.

Locals call it - pussy.

In the Florida parkea - the park - there was a kind of Bethlehem. We were looking or a Jesus like 15min xD asking locals if they know, they didn’t, but we found it, it was so hidden!

Nice pig XD

Like in Barcelona.

Sooo that’s all from basque cities. We took a bus to Valencia.

Super trip! I’ll come back, for sure to San Sebastian! Thank you guys! :D

And you did it, you survived till the end XD CONGRATULATIONS!

//whatHappenedInTheNorthStaysInTheNorth

#erasmus #trip #valencia #basque #pamplona #sansebastian #zumaya #bilbao #vitoria

[mittensmorgul]

7.15: Hey, this one takes place in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho... the same town Cas was looking for Dagon and Kelly in 12.15... and where Eileen was following up looking for signs of CAS after he stopped answering his phone in 12.17...

PARALLELS!

I KNOW we’ve talked about this episode and not only this fact ^^, but also the THEMES of the episode--> revisiting a case from the PAST and finding out they’d been fundamentally wrong about having solved it, and then finding the truth and finally solving it properly, understanding the entire reality of the situation, and stopping the REAL monster.

The real monster wasn’t just the demon they’d exorcised in the past, BUT THE HUMAN WHO WAS IN LOVE WITH THE DEMON WHO WAS POSSESSING HIM AND WORKING WITH HIM WILLINGLY. He was the real monster.

But this is also the episode where Sam’s “coping mechanism” for his Hell-O-Vision fails him. Because he ACKNOWLEDGES the hallucination and that’s how it gains power over him. Squeezing the scar on his hand doesn’t work anymore, and this is where everything begins to fall apart for him. He can’t keep up the performance that he’s holding it all together.

We finally also get a glimpse of the inside of Sam’s head, and are led to believe that he’s been seeing Lucifer EVERYWHERE all season long.

DEAN: All right, well, we can take a swing at it. But you know it's all about the Leviathans now, okay? They're the ones we need to be hunting. SAM: Yeah, but, no – I mean, not right now. This one's ours, Dean. It's unfinished business, apparently.

UNFINISHED BUSINESS. And they’re going back to finish it.

Sam and Dean have to remember their aliases from four years ago-- Bonham and Watts... and revisit the entire case they were sure they’d solved. The witch who’d helped them track the demon before has opened up an online wiccan supply company, and she’d tried to contact Sam and Dean again for help when the murders started again but of course their old numbers aren’t working anymore.

At the halfway house where Jeffrey lives, we open on a group discussion:

MAN 1:I want to talk about Cinemax. We're grown men. We pay rent. Why can't we get Cinemax? MAN 2: Skinemax.

(Dean in 12.11)

Meanwhile Jeffrey adopts a cute lil doge in a cone of shame.

(for what he does to the dog Jeffrey should be the one in the cone of shame)

Jeffrey tells Sam and Dean that he knows who the demon will go after next, because he had a list that he used to recite all the time. Sam goes off to the library to research and Dean stays with Jeffrey to protect him from the demon.

Meanwhile Sam’s left alone with his personal demon (Hallucifer), and Dean’s left alone with a HUMAN demon-- and they’re both sneak-attacked...

Lucifer persists in needling Sam and being slightly useful until Sam cracks and tells him to shut up, which was the end of his control over the hallucination.

Dean lets Jeffrey lead him to the demon’s “nest,” (and he brings A DOG in THE CAR!) (and he’s concerned it’s gonna pee in there) Dean keeps Jeffrey behind him as he investigates the warehouse. He finds a boy chained to a chair, and while he’s trying to help the boy, Jeffrey sneaks up behind him and injects him with something that knocks him out.

Sam tries to call Dean, and he’s not answering (because Jeffrey knocked him out). 

HALLUCIFER: Oh, no. That's every cellphone Dean's got. One of them should've picked up, right? Big brother's probably dead. SAM: Shut up. SAM grabs the reports and leaves. HALLUCIFER: He said "shut up" to me.

Sam scrambles to find some evidence of where Dean and Jeffrey went, and Hallucifer only offers him “help” that builds off info Sam ALREADY KNOWS. Because it’s not actually Lucifer, it’s just a part of Sam’s own brain.

That worry that Dean was dead? Sam. Finding all these “clues” to what’s happening and spurring memories? Just Sam’s own thought process brought out in 3D.

Which gives us UNPRECEDENTED ACCESS into Sam’s personality, because Hallucifer IS JUST A DARK PART OF SAM’S OWN MIND:

SAM: Nora, tell me what is going on. HALLUCIFER: Sam, shake her up. She knows what happened to Dean. Get this stupid cow to focus, will you? SAM crouches down and speaks very close to NORA HAVELOCK’s face. SAM: Nora, listen to me! Whatever it is, you should be a lot more scared of me right now because I'm two inches away from you, and I can make you talk. Do you understand me? HALLUCIFER nods approvingly. NORA HAVELOCK starts to cry.

Tell me that’s not fucking dark, like MoC Dean dark... the crap that Dean was desperate to dissociate himself from. Everyone thinks DEAN’S the one with anger management issues, but hell if Sam doesn’t have a streak of ruthless anger in him...

And speaking of the absolute darkest mirrors:

DEAN: So, demon comes along, rides co-pilot in your skull... Teaches you how to kill. The list... that's yours. JEFFREY: For years, it was just a game I would play. Every time I'd walk by one of them in the street or see one on my mail route... There's a sound that comes from their brains. You know that? Only I can hear it, like an evil, little steam whistle. Every time I saw one, I'd follow her, take down her address. JEFFREY picks up DEAN’s knife from the table. JEFFREY: But I was never gonna do anything, not till he came along. He's the one who saved me. And you sent him to Hell.

Long story short, Jeffrey makes himself out to be the antithesis of Dean, willing to do anything to get his demon back (two episodes before Dean gets his angel back).

JEFFREY KILLS HIS DOGGIE. And the demon possesses Nora’s son.

DEMON: He had all the raw material... just bubbling in there. All I had to do was loosen the lid on his jar, show him some practical know-how.

Just like Sam and his hallucination, it was all him...

SAM: So, Jeffrey was just pretending to be the victim. Way back in that farmhouse during the exorcism... h-he was just... acting. DEAN: He was a psychopath, Sam. That's what they do all the time, is act. Act like they're normal, act like they're not balls-to-the-wall crazy.

(Sort of like Emma was in 7.13, sort of like Howard had made himself believe in 7.14... )

#spn 7.15 #s12 meta rewatch #demons i get people are crazy #spn 12.15 #spn 12.17 #face your past head-on and FIND ANOTHER WAY a BETTER WAY #performing dean #lies and damn lies #using your words

[captainbrieontoast]

Time and Relative Dimension in Space

Summary:

Billy runs into someone on the Tardis she's never heard of before and ends up reuniting the Doctor with someone he hasn't seen since he had big ears and wore leather.

“So, what I can just spend as much time in here as I want? Like I’m at some sort of resort or something?” Bill asked breathlessly looking around the room she was in.

“Sort of,” the doctor replied distractedly. He was leaned over the center console of the Tardis, looking at one of the screens. He always seemed so busy, so distracted.

“I’m going to wander off,” Bill announced turning her head to look down one of the halls. The Doctor didn’t regard her and thankfully the man he was usually around wasn’t there or else he might have complained about it.

Bill glanced back at the doctor once more, watching him as he studied the screen before him, considering not even going exploring in such a foreign space. But then she heard a crash. Bill spun around just in time to see the end of the hall moving. Bill sucked in a breath and darted down the hall, but before reaching where she could have sworn the hall led, the hall abruptly just ended.

“But-” Bill put a hand on the wall. “There was a door here, just a second ago.”

She stepped back from the wall and stared at it for a moment. There was another crash, one that made Bill jump and she noticed a pink door to her left. She stepped towards it and it darted up across the hallway to the other side.

Bill squinted and whipped around, this time lunging for the door knob of the pink door. She successfully grabbed it but the door still moved, even if she was holding on to it. It zoomed to the roof of the hall, and down the hall, trying to shake Bill off. She screamed, clinging to the door for her life.

“What’s going on out there?” Bill squinted, holding tight to the moving door was weird enough but it seemed as if someone were talking from the inside.

“I hear someone screaming.”

“Screaming! I’m screaming!” Bill blurted suddenly. There was another crash from inside the room- whoever was in there must be clumsy- and then the doorknob was twisting.

“The door is heavy, sexy? What’s going on?”

“Sexy?! Who the bloody hell is sexy?!”

Finally, the door slammed to a stop, throwing Bill off the door knob. She hit the ground with a dull thud that knocked the air from her lungs. The pink door swung open and a bright light shone down on Bill. She looked up.

“Oh, my god.”

There was a woman standing here, dressed in a pink shirt and some blue jeans. She had trainers on, and short blonde hair and in the light of the Tardis she was illuminated in a golden aura, even her eyes… they shimmered like little golden orbs.

Bill clambered to her feet, for once caught without words in her mouth.

“Oh, my god, hi.”

The woman tilted her head.

“You aren’t the doctor, are you?” She asked. She tilted her head and leaned towards Bill. “He said he could regenerate into anything…” “He’s…. He’s down that way.”

Bill pointed half-heartedly down the hall. The woman glanced down it.

“You’re the new companion then?” She asked. Bill gulped and nodded.

“I-I’m Bill.”

“Rose.”

Another crash went off and Rose whipped around. “I’m a bit busy. Come in?” She said, but she dragged Bill inside as she moved in, clearly not intent on giving her a choice in the matter. She was walking forward, towards a small box that seemed to be momentarily on fire. “I’ve got this thing, meant to be a cloaking sort of device but also a safety machine. Keeps short circuiting.”

Scattered across the walls of the room were various pictures of this woman with a number of different men with her on the wall. One an older man with black hair, big ears, and a large smile. There was also a black man, with a clear jealous look on his face, another man with black hair and a cocky look to himself, and a younger man with brown hair and a nerdy smile. Rose could be seen with all of them, looking like the happiest woman in the world. It looked like she had been married to brown haired man, she could be seen with him in numerous pictures: them in their home, them with children, them at their wedding, and then a picture of Rose in black at a grave. There were three of those.

“See it’s supposed to be a bit like a sonic screwdriver but not nearly as practical and more for people like you and me. Helpers.” Rose darted across the room and held up a small metal object triumphantly. She then pointed it at her box, staring in delight as it buzzed to life.

The box rumbled and crashed again, making Rose groan. She went over to the box and opened it. She started to mess with the wires inside.

“Who are you?” Bill blurted. Rose glanced up at her.

“I told you. Rose. I’m like you,” she said.

“What?” Rose blinked and shook her head.

“Oh, god I’m sounding too much like him aren’t I? Just assuming you know what is happening… You must be new, I’ve been thinking about him a lot… Here, sit down, I’ll explain myself. Do you want any tea?” Bill was sat down on a bed involuntarily and she shook her head.

“Right. My name is Rose Tyler. I used to travel with the doctor when he had a different face- “

“A different face?!” “He’s alien remember?” Rose elaborated. “Anyway, something happened and I had to leave him. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Battle of Canary Warf?” “Who hasn’t?” Bill snorted.

“I was directly involved in that and got stuck in another universe with a duplicate of the Doctor at the time. Together we lived a lovely life, but sadly enough as it turned out something had been changed in me. I’m forever linked with the Tardis, and the Tardis, well, she is linked with the Doctor. All three of us are connected but by the time I was back, the Doctor had a new companion.”

Rose smiled brightly.

“So, I’ve been staying here in secret, with sexy here to keep me safe and hidden.”

“Who is sexy?” Bill asked uncertainly.

“The Tardis… Does he not call her that anymore?”

Rose pouted a moment and ran her fingers along the walls.

“Now I know why you talk to me so much, does he talk to you at all?”

There was a moment of silence and Rose tilted her head again.

“What an old geezer.”

She turned her attention back to Bill.

“The Tardis, she is a telepathic machine, living being, she can talk to you if your telepathic in anyway. Lucky me, I can talk to her.” Rose stood up suddenly, her head whipping around.

“You have to get out of here,” she blurted suddenly.

Bill blinked.

“Wha- “

Rose grabbed Bill by the arms and began to usher her out of the room. She threw open the bedroom door.

“The Doctor can’t know you were here. Don’t come back. I don’t exist okay?”

Bill opened her mouth but by the time any words were prepared to come out of her mouth Rose had slammed the door in her face. Then the door whizzed down the hallway, leaving Bill dazed and confused.

“Bill?” Bill turned slowly to face the Doctor who was standing in the middle of the hall.

“What were you doing?”

“I… I was…”

Bill gulped.

“Who is Rose Tyler?” The Doctor’s eyes widened and he furiously looked around.

“Where did you hear that name? Were you in a room you weren’t supposed to be in?” The Doctor demanded. Bill gulped.

“Uh…”

The Doctor can’t know you were here. Don’t come back. I don’t exist okay?

“I saw the name in a room. Is all.” “Well forget it,” the Doctor spat. “It’s not for you.” “But- Who was it?” Bill pressed. The Doctor frowned deeply, and his eyes studied Bill hard.

“You’re sure you didn’t see anything?”

He pushed into a random room door beside them.

“This exact thing happened with Clara, all of a sudden she’s just asking about Rose Tyler. She’s just curious. I don’t like being lied to Bill and I certainly don’t like it when things are hidden from me.”

He stepped into Bill’s bubble, his nose centimeters from hers.

“Either way, I always find out what I need to know.”

“Even if it takes you a while?” The Doctor squinted his eyes.

“What?”

“I mean you said the same thing happened with Clara, and your eyes tell me it happened before that even. That means it’s been years and you still haven’t figured out why your companions have suddenly been talking about older ones. I may be new, but I’m not completely stupid Doctor.”

The Doctor leveled her with a look of defeat and turned around briskly.

“Well then, where are we off to?” He asked. “Whole universe at our finger tips where should we go?”

The Doctor continued to babble on and on, his feet taking him farther down the hall, back towards the console room. Bill watched him for a moment, following behind him thoughtlessly. Then she turned around and looked back towards the pink door. She couldn’t see it anymore but she could tell it was down the hall somewhere.

“Bill?”

“Coming!”

Bill turned, trying to erase all thoughts of the beautiful woman she had seen from her brain.

“That was… That was amazing!” Bill laughed, darting into the Tardis, clutching her side. She ached all over, she was sweating and her breaths came in short pants. “Is everything you do always so dangerous?” The Doctor grinned back at her.

“Always.”

Bill giggled.

“And those alien women… Ugh, I need a shower. I must stink.” “Down the hall.”

Bill smiled.

“Thanks,” she said and stumbled down the stairs, towards the bathroom. She had just reached the door knob when a pink door caught her eyeline.

“Rose?” She whispered. A smile broke out across her face and she darted down the hallway, throwing open the door.

Rose was sitting on her bed, a pair of 3D glasses on her face just staring at a wall. As Bill stepped into the room Rose jumped up pocketing the glasses and turning to face Bill

“Uh, Bill, right?”

Bill smiled and nodded.

“Yeah… Uh how are you doing? Do you just hang out all alone?”

“It’s me and sexy,” Rose replied with a shrug.

“Must be lonely. I’m surprised it hasn’t driven you insane.”

Rose fell silent her fingers clasped and relaxed.

“What was it like? Your trip with the Doctor?”

Bill sighed dreamily.

“It was amazing. Other planets are so cool! Other aliens, are amazing I just- and the life and death- I mean we were almost killed- I shouldn’t be so excited everything hurts and yet I am, I am so excited!”

Rose smiled, and Bill could just see the stars in her eyes.

“I miss that... I haven’t been out of this room in…” She trailed off. “Really that long? I’m getting old.” Rose turned to glance in a mirror. “How’s the Doctor?”

“A showoff, a bit too excitable, but also way too quick to anger. He’s touchy.”

Rose chuckled.

“Same old Doctor.”

“Why are you locked up in this room all alone?” Bill asked. Rose looked up and smiled.

“The Doctor isn’t ready to see me again,” Rose explained. “And he’s got you, and he’s so much older now… I don’t know, sexy and I are good.”

The Tardis jolted and Rose gritted her teeth, barely jolting as Bill got thrown up against the wall.

“Okay so sexy thinks I should go out too, but she’s always helping keep me hidden anyways, unless it’s a Companion with too much ambition. Such as yourself. Then I get a good chat.” “But, if you want to talk to the Doctor and you guys are in the same place, why don’t you just go talk to him?” Bill reiterated. “I don’t get it you both clearly miss each other- “

“You think he misses me?” “-And you are driving yourself crazy! Just go talk to him.” Rose sighed and plopped down on the bed in her room.

“I- “

“Honestly, you’re like a hormonal teenager.” Bill grabbed Rose by the wrist, sick of her excuses. She dragged her out of the bedroom, which is about when Rose started to really protest. In sharp whispers, she began to chant again and again about how she couldn’t see the Doctor, but luckily Bill was physically stronger than her. She continued to drag the blonde down the hall until they were in the console room.

Rose froze as soon as they reached the stairs that led to the center console. The Doctor was talking, rambling really. He hadn’t even noticed that Bill was with someone else. He was too busy trying his best to be impressive.

Rose meanwhile was barely breathing. A hint of a smile flinted across her face, and all the anxiety that Bill had previously noticed on the beautiful woman’s body was gone.

“Doctor.”

The Doctor froze, leaned over the console his hand on a lever.

“Rose.”

The Doctor didn’t turn around to face Bill and Rose, he stayed completely still and so did Rose.

“Rose Tyler. Rose Marion Tyler.”

The Doctor finally turned around, and when his eyes landed on Rose they both smiled.

“You’re old now,” she chuckled. “Older then you were…” She gestured to her ears and the Doctor laughed.

“Yes, well. I’m also older age wise, not just appearance. My last regeneration wore a suspender and bowties. Started reading with reading glasses and I was so very domestic.”

Rose broke into an uncontrollable laughter.

“It’s your nightmare! Must have been so lonely.”

“Not anymore,” the Doctor replied.

Rose slowly made her way away from Bill, not that it really mattered cause to the Doctor and Rose, Bill may as well have been invisible. Rose carefully took the lapels of the Doctors coat and stared at his shirt, then lowered her eyes to his blue pants.

“You know, I always thought you’d dress up more in your old age. You know, keep the tux pants. But instead you wear these,” Rose commented.

The Doctor smiled an affectionate smile, and put his hands around Rose’s waist. He shook his head.

“This body is much too old for you,” he whispered. Rose chuckled.

“I’m much older then I used to be Doctor. I’ve got two hearts now.”

The Doctor moved one of his hands to Rose’s left chest, and then her right.

“How?” He asked with a confused look. Rose gave him a coy smile and a shrug.

“Bad wolf,” she whispered. It meant nothing to Bill but a knowing look crossed the Doctor’s face.

“But what happened to…”

“He died, old age. I watched most of my family die out before finally I tried to get here. I haven’t died yet or anything but if I did I think I’d just regenerate,” she explained.

Hundreds of questions flew through Bill’s mind but she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to ruin this moment.

“Which means… You can travel with me… Us and you won’t grow old,” the Doctor said. He stooped down and pressed his lips to Rose’s lips. He pulled back after a long moment. “Rose Tyler I-“

Rose put her finger to the Doctor’s lips and smiled.

“I know,” she whispered. “Now… I think you owe Bill something.”

Both the Doctor and Rose turned to Bill who whistled and turned in a circle, pretending not to know that they had been previously having a moment together.

“All of time and space,” Rose said with a bit of mirth in her voice. “Anywhere you want to go, where will we go first?”

Rose laughed and threw a lever forward. It jerked the group and Bill screamed in surprise.

“What?” The Doctor said. “Do you think you’re impressive?”

“I am impressive,” Rose replied with a tongue in cheek smile on her face. She shoved her hands into her back pockets and the Doctor pulled her into another deep kiss. Bill stumbled across the room to the console and twisted, pushed, and lifted the lever closest to her. It was bronze and round and somehow it made the Tardis stop twisting and spinning.

“Alright love birds,” Bill said with a deep breath. “Less kissing and dazzling. If you two are so impressive let’s prove it.”

The two pulled apart and smiled at Bill in a way that nearly made her fear for her life.

“What is it I used to say?” The Doctor asked putting his hand on a lever. Rose placed her hand on top of his and at the same moment they threw the lever forward more and screamed:

“Allonsy!”

#Doctor Who #doctor who fanfiction #Doctor Who fanfic #Fanfiction #Doctor Who Fandom #the doctor and rose #Rose Tyler #The Doctor and Rose Tyler #12th Doctor #12th Doctor and Rose

[shockcity]

HP #3D - Temeraire Crossover

Rating: T Summary: Harry finds himself stranded in an alternate universe in which the Napoleonic Wars are fought with dragons. Yeah. He thought it was weird too. Category: M/M Pairing: John Granby/Harry Potter Warnings: none

THIS IS PART IV

Note: this is the end! I’m not sure if there will be another installment. I’ve edited this fic for what seems like years, and still there’s segments that need work. My dyslexia is especially noticeable in some rough areas here and there, and my writing skillz (what writing skillz?!) three years ago are not what they are now. But hey, if someone enjoyed this then I call it a win. Thanks for reading!

---

Part IV

.

“No, Remy, sorry,” Harry was saying. “I’m afraid old Boney’s dead here. We trounced him.”

Remy looked at his company, whom, despite the strangeness of the situation, seemed quite at ease with him. Or well…after a few hours of going to pieces, before the shock of meeting a well-spoken and sort of but not really non-violent dragon had worn off that is. Remy had used that time to coddle his captain for a bit, poking at him and snuffling his hair to make sure that Harry was quite well. And of course, to interrogate him.

“Who should we fight then?” Remy asked, put out but also satisfied that Napoleon had met a sticky end. “Perhaps those machines in the sky? They’re dreadfully loud. Can I eat them?”

“I see where Potter gets his violent habits from,” Draco said, very grouchy that he had been dragged out of bed for this meeting. Beside him, Bill looked overwhelmed but much calmer than when he had first run to Harry with the news. Teddy was helping Charlie wash Fred, who was purring quite loudly at the sensation.

“It might be the other way around,” Bill said. “If Harry’s older.”

“We have the Ministry to fight, and that will do,” Harry told Remy. “And those are planes. You shouldn’t like the taste of them, I don’t think. You’ll never believe how the Ministry has bollocksed things up–”

Bill shushed him for some strange reason, so he went on in a quieter voice, “but we’ll need to hatch more like Fred, if we’re to beat them.”

“And then we can have our own Aerial Corps!” Remy said excitedly. “Yes, I quite like that idea.”

“I don’t,” Bill muttered just as Draco said, “Are you mad? These are Ministry sanctioned Dragon Preserves, Potter. If you think they won’t notice eggs missing, or you training an army of bloody dragons, then you’re more stupid than I thought. And mad. And suicidal–”

“Actually,” Charlie suddenly spoke up, trying his best to dislodge Fred’s tail from around his neck. “The Ministry doesn’t often come here. You won’t find many Romanian sympathizers, either. Though they won’t go to war for us, I think.”

“What about the dragon keepers in Wales?” Harry queried, ignoring Bill’s increasingly panicked expression.

Charlie frowned. “What mates I had there are gone,” he said. “There was a strike when they brought the dragons to Azkaban. We had just got them out of Gringott’s, see, for their poor living conditions. They heard Azkaban was even worse, that the first hundred they took starved to death. My mates had a bit of a riot, were locked up, and never seen again. The Ministry reckoned they had better keep their dragons alive, so none have starved, but I don’t think they’re treated well at all. In any case, the Welsh Preserve went silent. No one wants to speak out. But some of my friends were well-liked, Harry, we may find a fair few allies there.”

Harry nodded. “Well, that’s settled then,” he said. “We’ll have to talk to the Romanians, see if they’ll let us have a few eggs since they don’t seem to be doing much with them, and then we’ll test the waters back home.”

“And what? Train dragons to fight? We’re outnumbered, still, you know,” Teddy pointed out.

Fred lifted his head and blinked at them. “I can breathe fire,” he said, as if Teddy were slow. “And most dragons can’t be hurt with magic. A hundred dragons against a hundred men, and I’m afraid you are the ones that are dreadfully outnumbered.”

“That’s right,” Remy agreed. “And I have fought twenty-two gun frigates, Grand Chevaliers, and Napoleon’s army, and have taken many of them as prizes. If you still think I’m no match for a bunch of crusty old wizards, pray tell me now, so I will know who to eat for my next meal.”

“Now, Remy,” Harry said, patting Remy consolingly. His amusement was hard to hide, however. “You aren’t allowed to eat my godson.”

“Oh,” Remy exclaimed, perking up. “So you are Teddy! A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I shan’t eat you. For Harry. You know, my capitaine was terribly upset to have left you behind, when he went to fight Napoleon. He was very sad–”

“Yes, Remy, thank you,” Harry cut him off, his face red. Teddy was laughing though. “I think we should get started. First and foremost, it is Fred that should have our undivided attention. He will be the deciding factor of whether or not this can be done. He will need to be taught about rigging, of course, and the maneuvers–”

“Oh, I already know about most of it,” Fred told them, nuzzling Charlie. “I should like a crew to protect my captain.”

“I beg your pardon,” Remy said, somewhat sheepishly. “But I’ve told him quite a bit about our home. I hope you don’t mind.”

“On the contrary, this makes things much easier,” Harry said. “Though I am a bit skeptical as to how Fred turned out so very different from the others.”

“Remy talked to me,” Fred blurted, as Charlie took on the expression of the shamed.

“Harry, we never thought to speak with the eggs,” he said. “We mostly kept them in the saunas, or in fire pits while the mothers fussed over them. And I definitely didn’t think to talk English to them, I rarely do it enough as it is, besides to Barnaby, the cook. He’s English. But they haven’t learned Romanian, either.”

“Of course they have,” Fred interjected. “They can talk to you, but they don’t want to.”

“I think he’s quite right,” Remy nodded. “I have learned some of their dragontongue, and they are not unintelligent. It is their first language, absolutely, but I would not be surprised if Romanian were their second. They are also horribly lazy. You feed them too much, and they cannot hunt or fly very much. And you are kind to them, do not think I am critical, but they see you as silly, but also their captors. It is easy not to want to talk to humans here. I suspect their language is all they have to keep them apart from humans. Or cattle, as it were.”

Charlie looked away from Remy, deflating visibly. “I would not have spoken to you if I was not assured of your character,” Fred reminded him. “And the mistake can be remedied, my Charlie, if we speak with them now.”

“They would want to be set free,” Draco pointed out. “Can you imagine it? Fire and death, everywhere.” He laughed without humour. “Some rethinking about this sorry plan might be in order.”

Remy swiveled his head around to stare at Draco, effectively making him nervous. “We had the same problem back home,” Remy announced. “Most dragons were happy to fight for England, because they had captain and crew as their companions. Spoiled by them, more like.”

He ignored Harry’s snort that very blatantly said Remy was a hypocrite, and went on to say, “But in some countries, like China, dragons roamed the streets, had their own capital, and worked for their food. If the lot here were not intelligent, this would be an impossible endeavor. But they are, you see, and though vengeful of their captivity, if we point out the blame is not on their caregivers here, they will see the fault of your government and want to fight for manumission.”

“Perhaps we should focus on one rebellion at a time,” Bill said in response, where the others were silent.

“Why?” Harry retorted. “Why? I made the mistake of not speaking out overly much about the conditions back home, and though it is an objection that some would find selfish at a time of war, it cannot be ignored. Especially here, Bill, where no one is happy with their lot. Not even Hermione and Ron. They are not happy. I know it.”

“Why shouldn’t we show our strength?” Remy continued. “If you want us for allies, I’m afraid your assumptions of our self-control and intelligence will have to be put out to pasture. And there is no equality shown better than between comrades at arms, fighting together for the same right of living.”

Harry wrapped his arm around Remy and stood to face any more arguments come their way. Yet none was brought forthwith. Charlie, in fact, decided for the rest of them by saying, “Well, that’s torn it. I suppose we have some negotiating to do.”

“You suppose right,” Harry grinned.

:::::::

Getting the eggs from the Romanians was dreadfully easy. The notoriety of Fred’s intelligence was spread quickly, and their plans (vaguely and subtlety intimated) were approved if only because Charlie confessed the Romanians thought it some grand experiment. And they did not much like the Ministry for Magic, anyway, which helped in some small way. They chose from twenty eggs to take five, and Harry cast the strongest, most long lasting heating charm upon them before they were safely ensconced separately from the others.

Charlie had, during this time, also exchanged words with his old friends at the Welsh Preserve. The unspecified, mysterious overtures of attempted alliance were well met, so much in fact that the Preserve was very keen on meeting with their group as soon as possible. This cast suspicion in Draco’s mind, and if Harry were to admit an accord with him, in Harry’s as well. But Charlie was very sure that his friend, a Mr. Martin, was an enthusiast for the resistance, however quietly and carefully. Charlie claimed that he had never known a more anarchical man.

With their eggs safely acquired (and Remy on the job of teaching them, post hatching), and the upcoming meeting with the men at the English Preserve, all that remained was speaking with the dragons. They chose to talk with the Romanian habitants, by way of trial and error before they would do the same in Wales. Remy lead them out to the squabbling groups, their suspicious eyes alighting upon the would-be diplomats the moment they entered the field.

“Hello,” Remy said in stuttering dragontongue, which, much to his offense, inspired a tittering of laughter.

“…can’t speak, the blackie…” said one.

“Who does he have with him?”

“More wizards, he might be working with them…chain us up again…awful two-legged murderers…”

“Please,” Remy said, switching to very unpolished Romanian. “They won’t murder anyone.”

The dragons did not respond to this, though Remy knew they understood. “We’ve come to negotiate your release.”

This made them sit up, some hissing, but all betraying their understanding of the tongue. “If you’ll talk to Charlie, the red caregiver, here,” he said, extending his nose to the man. “He’ll tell you what’s afoot. He wants to free you all, because he along with the other caregivers, think it is right. He is not free, either, you see. The government has chained all of us.”

The dragons did not speak, or move at this proclamation. “Perhaps they are too wary of humans,” Remy said to Harry sadly. “We may be too late.”

“If what you say is true,” one of the dragons interrupted in perfect Romanian. “We shall listen to this human’s speech. But if you are lying, I shall gut you and fry your innards with my fire.”

Remy fidgeted. “I’m not lying,” he said, not wanting to provoke them now that he had them talking. “Just listen, if you please. Charlie is very kind.”

“What is that dragonet about?” another asked, inspiring chatter of agreement and curiosity from his fellows.

“I have chosen Charlie as my captain,” Fred answered, showing well the efforts of his tutelage from Charlie in Romanian. “We will fight the government together, and never be parted.”

A red and gold dragon of medium size hissed at Fred. “You should be ashamed,” she said. “We are dragons. They are humans. They have killed and captured us for hundreds of years. A companion,” she spat. “Chains more like. Murderers!”

Remy made to protest, afraid all would fall into chaos, but Fred, the dear, merely sat up and said imperiously, “You are stupid and lazy. You would complain and complain about your lot, but won’t do anything at all about it. A captain will help you. The humans that feed us are not like the others. They regard us with respect, with affection, and you would call them murderers when they have treated you so well. They too, have suffered, for fighting for you. Charlie’s friends were killed, in your defense, revolting against the government. Yet you disregard them and spit upon us, when we will fight for the rights of humans and dragons everywhere! It is you who should be ashamed!”

Charlie looked to Harry and whined, “What has your Remy done to him? He’s a politician!” Remy, however, looked ridiculously proud of Fred, as Harry shrugged in response. He would have Remy tell him what Fred had said later.

The dragons were silent after this admonishment, and Fred seemed to have lost his patience. “Fine then,” he said, turning his back on them. “You will stay here and complain all your days, doing nothing. It is the only thing you seem to be good at. Come, Charlie, they are hopeless.”

“Now, wait a moment, youngling,” an older, white dragon spoke up. “You are very presumptuous, calling us hopeless. What would you have us do, mind, when groups of wizards shoot at us and kill us for our blood? We know that it is safe here, and that our caregivers are kind. We are not stupid. But out there, youngling, where you have not been, is a terrible place ruled by men who would murder us.”

“Has it not occurred to you that you should fight?” Fred responded dryly. “We are dragons. We breathe fire and rule the very skies. And with our allies, with captains, we can learn to fight better than humans. To fight with our cleverness and our strength, both. They will guard our backs, battle with us and die with us, and when we are free we will have them always. As comrades, as partners and as friends.”

“Idealistic rot,” another dragon huffed, though he gazed a bit closer at Draco, as if to see where this perfect companionship came from. Draco backed away accordingly.

“And you need not have a captain, if you are willing to forgo the happiness of it. But the humans will help. They want to be free as much as you.”

“Will there be no more chamois?” one spoke up, though he was nudged silent by the elder just as quickly. Remy caught this and thought, rather helplessly, of the character of all dragons from one world to the next.

“You might have cows,” Fred speculated, and this caused murmuring to start among them. The hushed conversation did not last long, for it was smothered fast due to their worry that Fred would leave again, and the promises lost.

“I think this acceptable,” the older dragon said. “We shall go with you to fight.”

“You will need to allow the humans to touch you, to protect you,” Fred pointed out, not showing any assumed joy at the success of his negotiating.

“I should like a captain,” one of them said, a young, bright green. “I saw your Charlie bathing you yesterday, do they all do it?”

“They shall,” Remy put in. “And my Harry has got me jewels to wear, back home. He is very attentive. Invaluable, really.”

More murmuring, until finally, the eldest said, “When are we leaving?”

And thus, without any words from Charlie, Fred managed to negotiate the transportation of twenty dragons to the Welsh Preserve.

“I can’t imagine how Fred did it,” Charlie said to Harry, the night before their departure. “Where did he even think of it? He’ll speak for me from here on out, Harry, since he does it so bloody well. This is mental.”

Harry could only laugh, pound him on the back companionably, and say, “Welcome to the Aerial Corps.”

:::::::::

Travelling with so many beasts threatened to be an ordeal, and Harry very briefly worried for it until he was quite soundly reassured. Charlie’s Portkey, a massive cage much like the one used to transport the four dragons for the Triwizard Tournament, was as efficient as it was a trial. They needed a fair few of them, and their enlisted dragons were quite put out to be locked in them. When Harry and his fellows travelled likewise, however, and after Fred made a show of not caring about the accommodations at all, they went forward silently enough.

He wondered at the ability of wizards to transport the dragons so easily with a mite of wistful envy. Harry and Remy remembered, in some disgruntlement, the long days of flight from Loch Laggan to Gibraltar. Though they knew, if they should travel likewise here, there would be a hullabaloo of some measure, considering how witless even a flying car was in the presence of so many Muggles. Their arrival, and it was rough due to the space of the cage, was met by a smiling man who looked only a year or so older than Charlie.

With him, there was an elderly wizard in quite resplendent robes, though he seemed too old to be awaiting them in the often chilly Welsh grasslands. A team of Keepers immediately set to letting loose the frazzled dragons, offering cows (of all the luck) to them despite the short journey and the group having eaten an hour previous. As they took to the meal with ridiculous satisfaction, the man grasped Charlie’s hand and shook it with immense pleasure.

“Charlie,” he greeted. “You’re a sight for bloody sore eyes, mate.”

“Alright, Sam?” Charlie grinned. “Everyone, this is Samuel Martin. Sam…this is everybody.”

His short glance, obviously wary, at the old man was caught by Mr. Martin after a moment of consideration. In contrast, the elderly Wizard seemed fixated on the ground, his eyes half-lidded in lethargy as he smacked his lips together as if preventing a hacking cough.

“S'alright, Charlie,” Mr. Martin said, softly but not in a whisper. “Poor old Bondon is going on a hundred and ninety. Can’t hear a thing, and wouldn’t be bothered to hear it if he could. Sir. Sir!” Martin waved a hand at the old man. “Transfers, sir!” He shouted.

“Very well, very well,” Bondon said gruffly, once startled enough to pay attention. “Carry on, Maurice.”

“Daft,” Martin condemned the wizard, shaking his head with a grin. “He’s our boss, and the best one a man could want, I’ll say. It was Trenchant you had to worry about. He’s our resident Enforcer. While Bondon can’t be bollocksed to watch us careful-like, Trenchant has the eyes of a bloody hawk. He got Hadley a couple months ago.”

“What for?” Charlie asked as they marched across the grass toward the enclosure. Remy and Fred were with them, though Martin seemed not to have noticed yet in his enthusiasm.

“Smuggling,” Martin said with a grimace, and Harry nearly gaped in horror. That a Keeper, likely selling the remains of the older dragons once dead, could be capable of such an atrocity was astounding to him. But all was clear when Martin went on to explain, “His mother was that tabloid writer, Paula Hadley. Was safe writing wot robes were in fashion and which Portree seeker had holes in their pants, but when she imagined an article on the disappearance of her cousin would slip by, they made to put her in nick. Poor Hadley went and tried a desperate run to Sydney, but they caught them before they left port at Liverpool. Bad business.”

“Should we be talking about this here?” Bill suddenly put in, having jogged to catch up with Charlie and Martin, who were in the lead.

“It’s not a problem,” Martin said, smiling at Bill. “You did come here for what I think you came here for, right?”

“That would depend upon how many Enforcers are waiting for us in your quarters,” Draco snapped. The cap upon his head (and Harry wore one much like it) did little to hide him now that he had spoken. That haughty tone could only be pureblood, and if they were hoping for subtlety it was a foolish idea from the get go. Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, taking off his cap with resignation.

Martin frowned at them, as if not understanding how they could be suspicious at all, before his face cleared of confusion. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Alright, then, lads, stand down. Trenchant is out of our hair. We’ve tied him up and put him in the dung pits. Here. See?”

A detour slightly left of the housing revealed a giant heap of dragon waste, where a man in the soiled robes of an Enforcer sat, gagged and magically tied at his hands and feet. The group stared down at him, and then at Martin, who looked very pleased with himself. “You’re bloody mad,” Draco said. “How long has he been there?”

“Oh, only a few days,” Martin responded. “After I got word of you, Charlie, we decided to finally be rid of him. He put up a fight, but we were only too happy to boot him to the head. Literally too. Hawkins knocked him flat. But-” he abruptly stopped, and in a very alarming difference to his friendly, incessantly chatty character of before, he went silent; going so far as to back away from Charlie entirely.

“You did mean for us to fight, Charlie? We’ve been waiting and waiting for something to happen. And you’ve come with your brother, who you said was perdu. And Harry Potter too. Was I…was I wrong, Charlie?”

His hand was very obviously on his wand. “No,” Charlie was quick to reassure him. “You weren’t wrong. Are all of you wanting to fight? How did you know Harry was a sympathizer? What have you been waiting for?”

Martin’s amiable demeanor returned, and he laughed and put up a hand. “Easy, mate, I’ll answer you. Yeah, all of us are wanting to fight. We’ve lost friends and family, you know. And Dragon Keepers are born militants, you know that. We figured Potter was a sympathizer, on account of him being wanted by the Enforcers and all. Quite a bounty on his head. And we’ve been waiting, Charlie, for the army I hope you’ve got hidden somewhere.”

“You’re looking at it,” Harry said, moving forward and making himself known to Martin, who gaped. “Well, for now. We’re actively recruiting for men willing to work with…a special sort of weapon.”

Martin licked his lips. “Such as?”

“Dragons,” Draco was the one to answer, and did so with a frustrated sigh. “Ferocious, fire-breathing, surprisingly whiny dragons.”

“We mean to fly them, in armed formations,” Harry put in.

“They’re very intelligent, Martin, if we can get them to trust us enough to talk, and the lot we brought from Romania want to fight for their own freedom,” Charlie said.

“But we need to negotiate with the ones here, and hatch more that can be taught Harry and Remy’s strategy,” Bill provided.

“And I am Remy,” the dragon said, craning his neck forward and imposing upon Martin’s personal space. The silly man, himself, seemed to have just noticed the dragon. His jaw dropped with absolute awe. “And yes, before you ask as everyone else has; of course I can talk.”

“And complain, which is what most of them do,” Draco muttered.

“That’s twice now that you’ve called them grousers, Malfoy,” Harry said. “I wonder at it, given how often I hear of the travesties done to your person.”

“Oh, piss off, Potter.”

Martin threw his head back and laughed.

::::::::

Eryri was a land of high mountains, yellow-grass veldts and most importantly - cows. There was more than enough room at the Preserve for twenty more dragons, and Harry was happy to find the quarters just as spacious. If on holiday, Harry would have preferred Eryri to any place, if only for the vast green mountains that were so suitable for Remy. While cold and misty, the dragons seemed to keep themselves warm enough. And it was nowhere near as biting a dry chill as Romania, nor as expressly hot as it could manage in those Easterly mountains.

Most of the inhabitants, from conservationist Muggle scientists (mostly in Snowdon) and the Dragon Keepers themselves, spoke a dialect of Welsh that Harry couldn’t make heads or tails of. While most locals, out of the Preserve and otherwise, would find immense fault with his ignorance of their tongue, the Keepers were sympathetic. In fact, the main reason Charlie had gone to Romania instead of Wales, had to do with his inability to learn the language. He was not surprised, due to his rare encounters with Welshmen, that mastership of their language was a necessity if a Keeper should want to work there.

So it was that the dragons of Eryri spoke Welsh as their second tongue. They found most of the dragons on the plains there to be sulky and lethargic, but certainly not as intolerant of humans. It had to do, largely, with the temperament of Welsh Greens, whom populated the majority of the Preserve. Their lot from Romania had two Hungarian Horntails, a whopping eight Romanian Longhorns, three very persnickety Swedish Short-Snouts, two Greens of their own, and five Norwegian Ridgebacks. The only variation in Eryri was a small pack of Hebridean Blacks and a community (full of nosy elders, of course) of Chinese Fireballs.

Remy was of interest to the Common Welsh Greens, for he was of an unknown breed and willing to talk to the Keepers. It was not very hard to persuade them to communicate, and it was likely they had done so before, for when Jordon, one of the Greens, spoke for the first time, his Keeper Brown shouted out, “I knew he could talk! I knew it!” Though it was quite obvious none of his fellows had believed him. The hardest shells to crack were the Chinese Fireballs, whom, so set in their ways, would not deviate from dragontongue. Remy translated their skeptical and stubborn communication to the best of his ability, but told Harry in private that they would not be of much help.

The reason for their reluctance was startling but positive. Hadley, the aforementioned man likely executed tragically, was their Keeper and an expert in Chinese Fireballs. When he had gone, the group of them had withdrawn completely, never going to the enclosure, not breeding, but living off of cows and sleep in a husk of their former selves. Here was the possessiveness of humans by dragons that Harry was afraid was not a feature of this world. The Fireballs would take to no other Keeper, and according to Remy, were still pining for poor Hadley months after his disappearance.

And it was seen in most of the Greens, as well. A rather enthusiastic dragon named Emily had a friend in a Keeper named Frank Sutch, and was more than happy to bridge the language gap between them when it was finally accepted by their community. Some of the dragons, mostly the older ones, were wary of speaking and convinced that any attachment to humans was out of the question. “Seems to me they’re being killed,” one said, a burly-chested Green who was blind in one eye. “And now you say the caregivers go to war. Well, good for them, they have a right to fight, but most of them will die, and I won’t be sad about it. I hate being sad.”

“But you are already sad,” Remy argued. “You do like the caregivers, no, don’t deny it. You would be pleased to be friends with them.”

“If I were young like you, perhaps,” the dragon had retorted. “But I am not. And I see how you depend upon your young Harry. If a human of mine were to die I reckon I’d go with him.”

There was no changing the minds of the eldest, and Harry consoled Remy by saying that they would still benefit from the fight, with or without their participation. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind, after all, that they would win. Yet, seeing this explosive knew relationship between dragon and keeper, the Romanian group decided to pick out their own captains. And the choosing began without any provocation on their part, for the Romanians, quite chuffed at knowing the basics of the Aerial Corps due to Fred, suddenly became the biggest supporters of their plan among them.

“Well, I’m for Brown, of course,” the Green, Jordon said, nudging his new captain and the man that had been sure Jordon could speak. “Just as Emily is for Sutch. We all have our secret favourites, you see.”

And they did have favourites. Though the Romanians were hard-pressed to choose from Keepers they didn’t know. But they didn’t care for a transfer of those they were familiar with, either. “Finicky things,” Remy scoffed to Harry. “And we did offer the transfer, which would be dreadfully risky. They cannot say we are not accommodating.”

Harry reckoned they mostly cared about cows, and if there remained a steady supply, there would be no revolt. “I suppose they just want cows, anyway,” Remy sighed, mirroring his thoughts.

But though the Romanians were the last to pick captains, pick them they did. Of the twenty men, most were not Keepers at all, but groundsmen. A squib named Poker (and if it was his real name, no one would say with surety) had been paired with Kreet, a grouchy Romanian Longhorn, and Melbourne, an often drunk and belligerent Scotsman was paired with Maltak, the most volatile of Hungarian Horntails.

“We should find all of the disreputable men in England who aren’t frightened of dragons, and send them to the Romanians. If it’s what they truly want, as I suspect,” Remy had said.

The vast majority of the dragons chose wisely, though it was hard not to. Harry was pleasantly aware of just how different Dragon Keepers were to most men. The acquisition of a companion in these majestic beasts was forever a brilliant gift, and one they were immensely grateful for. And even though the joyous circumstances had come about under the shadow of war, none of them were low in spirits. Mr. Martin, captain now to a ridiculously amiable Green named Desmond, proved to be the center of the celebration. As the illegitimate leader of them, his happiness and pride set the mood for every rank.

Harry did like Martin, and a few others including Frank Sutch and a forever laughing man named Ackerson, who reminded Harry very much of Chenery. There was Gordon, Mercer and Hallywell, Fobbs, McKinney and Reynolds; all men so easy to get on with Harry could not help but think of home. And Granby.

Remy chose to mention him (and with it, the possibility of returning home) one night a month into their stay in Eryri. “Do you miss him, so?” Remy asked, watching Harry carefully for distress. “I miss Temeraire and Laurence, and Iskierka, she was very nice-”

Harry snorted at Remy’s flattery. Iskierka nice…hah, “And Maximus, I miss him, the lout. But Jane and Excidium mostly, you know. Our wonderful formation. Faversham too, though he was always so dull,” his dragon continued. “But I did not have a love there, when you did.”

Harry was silent for a time, wrapped snuggly in Remy’s arms. “I miss Bee more than I can say,” Harry whispered. “Martin smiles like him, but the eyes are all wrong. Bill is his height, but Bee might be taller. That scruff, McKinney, makes me want to admonish him with soap and razor, before I realize he is not a close enough friend of mine. There is a scar on Charlie’s arm, similar of shape to Bee’s. I see him everywhere, my dear, and I am mad with longing.”

Remy nuzzled him to comfort, but said nothing. Which was just as well, for Harry was struck with a thought that would not stay in the safety of his mind. “Am I betraying him?” he asked Remy. “Staying here, fighting another war? Would an outsider think I have forgot him?”

“What does it matter what they think?” Remy huffed. “And we’re needed here, my Harry. We are.”

“But we’re needed back home, too,” Harry couldn’t help but argue.

Remy gazed down at him with acute eyes. “I do not think the suffering of one is more important than the suffering of another,” Remy said so wisely and philosophically that Harry was suddenly absurdly proud of him. “We will help here, and then find a way home. How do you expect us to fiddle with strange magics when a war is on?”

This did well enough to soothe Harry, though he kept a thought in confidence from Remy. It was a feeling that could hardly be expressed, and with it the question of his abandonment of Granby remained. For Harry thought that he knew how to get home, and unlike Remy, remembered the particulars of his arrival here. As all things eventually lead to, the answer to his return to Granby alarmingly though unsurprisingly enough, began with death.

:::::::::

The next few weeks after the choosing of the captains were hectic and frustrating for Remy and Harry. More so for Remy, who was not a born leader. Or at least, a patient one. Unlike at the covert back home, Remy did not get on with every dragon, and he was gravely aware that he was no Celeritas. Thus arguments frequently broke out, and his confidence in the maneuvers they taught was wavering. Harry tried to tell him that he was doing brilliantly, despite some of the dragons that could not follow directions, though his comforts were often undone by Maltak, who took a special pleasure in slagging his brethren.

Harry got so tired of trying to make the Horntail see sense, that first, tedious week, that he came to the beasts on that Thursday and went completely undone. Remy had been arguing with Maltak about flying with his formation, and was looking more and more flustered as the minutes passed.

“I want everyone in a line!” Harry shouted, so loudly and forcefully that the dragons started. “You there! You lot! This isn’t a hen house. Stop the tittle tattle. In a line!”

His bellowing startled them into moving, their basic understanding of English just enough to follow orders. Though reluctantly. “A straight line, damn you!”

Maltak began to hiss something to the others, likely mutinous, and Harry turned his wrath upon him, “Maltak, I will have order or you shall go back to Romania and lose every chance of the gold and glory you seem to want so badly! And don’t you dare try and attack me, you bloody brute! Get in line!”

With much grumbling, the Horntail edged in among his fellows, who stared at Harry with wide eyes. “You have been recruited by this army to fight for your freedom,” Harry said to them. “Where Remy and I are from, the dragons are respected for courage and for strength. Just as you once were. But it seems to me you are a loss to your species. Your intelligence is on the verge of extinction. You shame me, you shame our Aerial Corps, and most of all, you shame yourselves.”

They fidgeted and looked away from him, though a few had not the decency to be ashamed. Harry picked them out with his eyes and kept them in memory. “If we cannot learn these basic strategies, we will lose, and our enemies will have you killed, do you understand? They will kill you. Did you think that Remy was merely ordering you about, showing away, and not trying with all his heart to save you? You are fools. You disgrace your brethren. That is why this will not work. I will tell your captains that we are better off without. We shall go to war without you. I’ve had enough.”

“No, no-”

“You can’t take my captain away!”

“We were supposed to get jewels and be free, Remy said-”

“No, we want to fight!”

The clamour of their shouting attracted some of the men from the enclosure, but Harry ignored them in favor of shouting, “Why should you deserve captains or jewels or battling!” They went silent again. “You cannot even fly in formations, which will keep safe your captains and assure our victory! We have overestimated you! Almost a week of training. A week wasted. Bah! Nothing done but squabbling and disrespect. You don’t deserve freedom, if you cannot learn to fight for it!”

More disagreements and a few offended hisses. “Harry,” Remy whispered to him, casting a cautious look at the furious Maltak. “Harry, perhaps you shouldn’t say any more.”

“I’ll have my say!” Harry yelled. “All of our hard work has been for naught! They are not smart enough for this kind of thing, though I have seen beasts topple three nation armies! I’m sending them back, with dishonour, sir!”

“Please don’t-”

“He’s scaring me!”

“We’re not stupid! We’re not dishonoured!”

“I don’t want to leave!”

“No,” Maltak said, coming forward out of the distressed line. “We can learn the formations. We can.”

Harry glared at him. “Prove it,” he demanded.

There was a very long silence, and Remy tentatively ordered, “Eight and come about, Maltak’s formation.”

Maltak waited for his formation to come forward, and then lifted off into the air. They did a slightly wobbly figure eight, though they were synchronized, and dipped lower to the sky from a good height, opening their jaws but not shooting fire. It was a common and basic maneuver known to any fire breather back home, and one that Iskierka had used often. When they landed, Maltak gazed at Harry smugly.

“Well done,” Harry said. “Your starboard turn was shakier than a lyre string. You turned your head forward too slowly, your fire would have caught Henry. The landing was lackluster, dragging your belly would have killed your crew if they were aloft with you. It needs work. A week of basic formation training and this is all that is shown for it. You have proved nothing.”

“No, Harry, they have,” Remy said. “They have proved they can learn. If they put their minds to it, most definitely we can be ready in a year.”

“We don’t have a year!” Harry told Remy, rather harshly. “And what of their consideration for their captains? What of the training do they take seriously? None of it, I say!”

“Then we shall master them in three months!” Remy snapped back, quite angry at his captain. “You are not giving them any credit at all. Maltak lead his formation quite brilliantly, and he has proven he can improve!”

“I see,” Harry said with narrowed eyes, looping his hands into his trousers. “I see. You vouch for them then?”

Remy glared back. “I do vouch for them,” he said decidedly.

“Fine,” Harry snapped. “You have three months.”

“And if your men are not ready then?” Remy challenged him boldly.

Harry, who had been in the process of leaving, turned back with a raised eyebrow. “They have two. Shall we see who is the fastest?”

His dragon very nearly snarled at him. “Stakes?”

“An extra ration of cows for every dragon in training,” Harry negotiated. “And of course, bragging rights. And if you fail, which you very well could,” here he leveled Maltak with a smug smile. “You will give over a ration of cows to the men. They’ve not had beef stew since the Romanians came.”

There was a flurry of noise at this, all of them particularly pained at the thought of less cows. Remy straightened his back and looked down at Harry. “We shall see who is the fastest,” he said. “You shall see.”

Maltak came up and whacked Remy with his tail companionably. “I look forward to the extra cows,” he hissed. “Shall we practice now, Remy?”

“I think we shall,” Remy concluded, turning his back on Harry, who headed to the enclosure.

Later that night, after Remy was done ignoring him, the dragon sought him out with all the blustery indignation he could manage. “That was a nice trick!” Remy said angrily. “You might have told me! Now the others are convinced you’re a tyrant.”

“And they’re convinced you’re their superior, who will fight for them,” Harry pointed out. “How did training go?”

Remy sniffed and said, “Well. Extremely well.”

“And was Maltak arguing with every order you gave?”

Remy blinked, before looking at his captain closely. “Not at all. His formation was perfect. He even got the others in line when their flying was not the best. Harry-”

Harry waited for him to speak, but Remy had to think for a moment of what to say. “Harry…” he choked. “That was positively sly of you.”

“Why thank you, my dear. And I do apologies for being short with you,” he said, stroking the side of Remy’s neck. “But I’m afraid it had to be done.”

“Yes, yes it did,” Remy agreed, his eyes bright as he nuzzled his captain. “I think I had forgot how smart you are.”

“Rather you forgot your own brilliance,” Harry countered. “You can teach them, you know, and you can lead them into battle. You deserve their loyalty, and their obedience. Remy, I don’t want to ever see you doubt yourself again.”

Remy curled him close without responding. Harry sat on his arm and relaxed, tired from his own day of training crews and captains. “Thank you, mon capitaine,” Remy whispered to him eventually.

“No need,” Harry returned. “You’ve done wonderfully all by yourself.”

::::::::::

“Port, to port! Blast it, what is that? Quicker, quicker!” Harry was shouting. “Mr. Martin, these pilfered grenades would do wonders if your men could actually use them!”

Their ammunition, magical grenades stolen and bought from some rather shady gentlemen (the friend of friend, indeed) was a right side better than the grenades and muskets of the eighteen hundreds. If in the hands of his own crew back home, Harry could without a doubt depend upon the advantage. But the Keepers that served as a makeshift, small crew for the dragons, were unused to weaponry. Wands were good for only destructive, close range spells, and the grenades were a dependency Harry was wary of promoting. But little else could be done about it, and once the weapons were mastered, it was all about timing.

They were still too slow. Yet, their afternoon training aloft and on dragon back may yield better results. It was no surprise that the Keepers felt more comfortable on a twenty tonne dragon rather than on the ground.

Their performance was not that shoddy, in any case. Harry had to admit that four months hard work had paid off. Any of these men, if it were possible, would be learned enough for the Aerial Corps back home, though they were not as polished. Not as polished at all, Harry thought, as a topman, Wilkes, tripped over the netting.

So far, their training had remained largely under wraps. The holes in their crew had been filled by able-bodied refugees, provided by a suddenly hopeful Neville. There was underground talk of the beginnings of a true fight, and it lifted the spirits of the men. Neville had told of an unprecedented, slightly cautious joy in the camp, for whispered word of their efforts had reached the limestone city. Harry worried it would come to the ear of an unfriendly, but resolved that the benefit of hope was more important. He also resolved to speed up their training, so that when the Enforcers came to inspect the rumour, they would be ready.

It helped that training men to fight on dragons was a mad idea, serving to lend a mythical quality to talk. If Harry told Neville to insert that they might just be gathering Leviathan beasts and training them to fish with the help of wild-eyed troll nomads, then it was only for the better. The less likely, in Harry’s case, had always been the likely.

After four months, the bet had borne a winner. Remy, rising above his initial insecurity, had whipped the dragons into shape. Harry was the first to tell his men that they had lost the bet they had no knowledge of, and the lack of beef stew made up for the tight formations. Together, they could right well serve as a proper Aerial Corps. But it had taken long enough, with much hard work to get there. And their time to prepare was coming to an end.

The next step in their plan was perhaps the most dangerous. Getting around the fortifications of the Ministry and leading enough of them out of the safety of London would be a challenge. Harry resolved that they would divide their initial attack, and draw the Enforcers out with smart rumours and subtly made challenges. Yet for this they would need spies. A team of rabble rousers directly tied to the Ministry. Provokers who would lead their enemies into a perfectly sprung trap.

And Harry knew where to find them.

::::::::::::

When Ron woke up he was next to his wife. Every morning she was beside him, and generally, they both rose at exactly the same time. There were two differences about today. Ron was not in his bed at home, and Hermione did not wake when he did. He found that he lay on mushy, mucky ground. It was cold and dark, and the only way Ron knew Hermione was there was by the sound of her very familiar breathing. And there were others with them. Other inhales and exhales less familiar.

He scrambled to his feet, bringing up piles of moss in his clenching fingers. He had been laying on his stomach, so the front of his pajamas were covered in dew and dirt. Ron grimaced, before kneeling down to shake at Hermione’s shoulder. She murmured a bit, but did not wake. What little light the forest provided (and he was in a forest, Ron saw) illuminated two others beside him. One was his father, thankfully and unfortunately. Ron did not know who had captured them, but his father was deceptively resourceful. They may just get out of this unscathed.

Ron had to look closely at the other man, who he recognized suddenly as Kingsley. His eyes widened. A number of theories ran through Ron’s head, all them more fantastical than the next. He remained calm, he was proud to say. Ron had never been one to handle pressure or fear well, that was Harry’s forte, but he found himself far from panicking, as he would have thought. Perhaps it had to do with his suspicion that the resistance was at fault for his kidnapping.

And he hadn’t been tied up. None of them were. And- he checked his pocket-yes, his wand was still with him. Ron breathed a bit easier. Whoever had stunned them and dragged them out of their beds did not want to hurt them. Maybe they wanted to talk? Ron thought, scratching his head. But why Hermione and Kingsley? They won’t listen. They never do.

Kingsley groaned. Ron went over to him and turned him over as gently as possible, given Kingsley’s bulk. The man immediately reached for his wand when he was aware enough, and pointed it right between Ron’s eyes. “Whoa, Kings, it’s Ron. It’s Ron,” he pled, backing up with his hands raised.

The man mumbled a bit, thankfully recognising a friend, and got up from the ground. Ron saw Hermione shake herself awake, and his father sit up. “Where are we?” Arthur croaked, as drowsy as all of his son’s were in the morning.

“I don’t know,” Ron said, moving to Hermione and helping her up. “Some kind of forest, I reckon.”

Kingsley turned around and around, looking through the darkness. “We’ve got our wands. Hermione, check for yours,” Ron told her.

“Yes, it’s here.”

“Strange,” his father said, before rising to his feet. “Do you know where we are, Kings?”

“The Forbidden Forest,” Kingsley informed them, his hand tight on his wand.

“What’s that?” Hermione suddenly asked. Ron looked around, but saw that she wasn’t staring at anything, but listening. He focused on his own lackluster hearing but noticed nothing. “I hear it,” Kingsley said.

It took a minute for the sound to come closer. It was a strange noise, like gigantic wings on the wind, and for a moment none of them knew quite what to do. Kingsley bolted into action a moment later, shuffling them closer, back to back in the middle of the small clearing. The sound grew louder, and the tops of the tall trees whistled and shook with the wind. Ron breathed heavily, frightened and confused, until he heard a voice that made his heart near stop.

“You can’t do this to me!” the voice howled over the torrent. “I am Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic! I’ll have you broken for this. Let me down!”

And Percy was let down. He fell through the canopy and into the clearing, briefly spilling light onto the forest floor. Before he could land with a sickening splat, his momentum slowed and he thumped to the ground. Arthur and Ron went to him quickly, while Kingsley raised his wand to the sky. But the canopy had closed over just as fast as it had opened for Percy.

“The audacity! I can’t believe him! Where is my wand?” And as if someone had heard his complaining (hard not to, with Percy’s caterwauling), his wand fell to the ground beside his feet.

“Who’s kidnapped us?” Hermione demanded at the same time as Kingsley asked pensively, “Why give us our wands back?”

“I don’t think they want us hurt,” Ron put in, though skeptical

Percy scoffed, looking down at his soiled robes. “Of course he doesn’t!” he said. “I told you he was mad!”

A crash interrupted Percy’s tangent. The wing beats were back, and they bent the trees before them like twigs. Two fell over, one in their path, and they scrambled away from it. “Sorry!” the unmistakable voice of Harry Potter shouted to them. “Oh, whoops. Remy, careful there.”

Another tree fell. “Harry!” Hermione shouted. “Harry, this is ridiculous!”

Ron wanted to laugh. Of course Harry was behind this. His wand fell to his side, and a knowing smirk stretched his face. “You could have just come over, mate-” Ron started, but then he was gaping. The last tree brought down by Harry’s clumsiness had brought with it sunlight. And before him was a dragon, wedged in between the fort of trees like a great, conspicuous shadow.

“Oh my g-” Hermione gasped, and Ron understood. Harry was atop the beast, of all things, looking perfectly comfortable. He slid off its neck and unhooked himself from what looked like a harness.

“Not our best landing,” Harry said sheepishly, patting the dragon on the neck. “Well, now, let’s-”

“You are out of line, Potter!” Percy interrupted, moving forward to poke Harry in the chest. “If you think kidnapping Ministry employees is lawful, then the Enforcers will have a bloody surprise for you! I don’t know what barbaric world you went to, but here kidnapping is always unacceptable-”

Harry was looking at Percy as if he’d grown two heads. “Alright mate, alright,” he cut him off. “Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“That a threat, Potter?” Kingsley asked, raising his wand.

That special expression of absolute confusion went to Kingsley now. “God, no,” he said to Kingsley. “And there’s not much you could do to me, I’m afraid. Nor your ham-handed Enforcers.”

“Still think you’re Merlin himself, don’t you, Potter?” Percy said, smiling smugly. “We’ll see. We shall see.”

Harry patted Percy on the back. “Steady on, Perce,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t have brought you here, you always were a bit strange,” he went on, looking at Percy closely as if a telling disease or mental deficiency was obvious on his face.

Ron coughed to cover his laugh. “Now, listen up, you lot,” Harry said. “I’ve called you here-”

“I think you kidnapped us, Harry,” Arthur pointed out sheepishly.

Harry looked at him askance, before glancing around himself. “So I did,” he amended. “Now, listen. I’m not too happy with the Ministry. You’re all a bunch of pigheaded lack-wits, and whether you’ll care or not, you’ve killed thousands of innocent people in the last nineteen years. This won’t do, chaps. This won’t do at all.”

Hermione sighed. “It’s only understandable that you would mistake our efforts, Harry,” she began, but Harry was bold enough to speak over her.

“And since you’ve mucked it all up quite brilliantly, I have no choice but to kill the Minister, usurp this totalitarian rule, and fight fire with fire, as they say. In other words, I’m going to destroy your happy little fascist government, and I would like your…cooperation.”

They gaped at him, though Ron felt something like bubbling laughter threaten to take hold. “You’re mad,” Percy breathed. “Absolutely mental.”

“So they tell me,” Harry said, before he frowned. “I hear that a lot, actually. It’s not very nice.”

“You know we won’t cooperate,” Kingsley said. “You and the beast are hoping to kill us?”

“Remy? No, what?” Harry waved a hand at him. “I won’t kill you. Maim you, perhaps. Obliviate you to the point of invalidity. Maybe tie you up and throw you somewhere for safe-keeping. But you were my friends at one point in time, so no, I don’t plan on killing you.”

“Then try it. We won’t cooperate. And I won’t let you incapacitate me without a fight,” Kingsley told him.

“Well said, Kingsley,” Percy approved pompously.

“Oh, this is just silly. Harry, if you’ll only listen, we’ll clear this misunderstanding up, you’ll see-”

Harry sighed, and Hermione went silent. It took a moment for Ron to realise that he had silenced them all. The flash of his wand was too fast for Ron to even see. He tried to speak, saw that the others did as well, but no sound came from his mouth.

“I shall tell you my problem,” Harry said to them. “This is where we either realise our dreadful mistakes, or I take you out of this fight for your own safety. The choice is up to you, and it is the only choice you have. Now you will listen.”

Kingsley must have tried to cast silently, because his wand was suddenly in Harry’s hand. “This won’t do,” Harry told him, glaring now. “I gave your wands back to keep the peace, not so you could attempt to stop me. I’ll warn you. You won’t be able to stop me. Not now, and not when I destroy your beloved Ministry.” He threw Kingsley’s wand back at him.

“I was carried away to another world nineteen years ago without my consent. But I found family and friends there, and an entirely new sort of strength. I would not have given up that journey for anything, until I came back here and found my original home vastly changed. And not for the better. I wonder at my dying that day, in this very forest, and why I chose to sacrifice myself for people like you. I’m ashamed of you. Dreadfully, horribly ashamed.

"You’re murderers. And even if you have not killed in cold blood, you are an accessory to murder. You are guilty of genocide. You are the ignorant politician we fought so hard to usurp. You are ugly, disgusting people who have let the world go to the dogs for pride and ambition. My efforts to help your mortal souls, as it were, might just be madness to others. What redemption do you deserve, I wonder? It is perhaps, an even worse crime that you were good people once. That you fought for the freedom you now restrict from others yet covet for yourselves. What can be said for you now, I wonder?”

Ron didn’t know about anyone else, but his stomach was curling into itself, like a worm drying out in the sun. He had known all of this before, in his own mind, yet to hear it spoken aloud was more painful than he had imagined. He did not have the courage to look at Harry, who stood stiffly in front of them.

“But I shall try to speak for you anyway. I have hopes for some of you. I know that you are unhappy. Guilty about the crimes you have committed. I also know, Percy, that you despise and misunderstand me. That you think that I am little more than an arrogant, self-righteous nuisance, come from nowhere to wreak havoc on your perfect life. I know that you, Hermione, judge me now. Looking for logic in my betrayal. Assured of your own righteousness and little else. You are wrong. Desperately, sadly and stupidly wrong.

"I would have never imagined the brilliant Hermione Granger wrong in anything, much less in the case of murderer. I would pity you, perhaps, if I had not seen first hand what your ignorance has done. And somewhere in that big brain of yours, where there was once cleverness but is now filled with hot air, you know that I am right. You should also know, that though I can destroy you faster than the thought of it, and the fear of it, can settle in, I am not God, and my judgment is not what you should ultimately be worried about. If you’ll pardon me for showing away, I’ll tell you that I have seen the afterlife, and judgment is there, and waits for you with cruel anticipation. In other words, you’re- how do they say it in America, Remy?”

“Screwed?”

“Yes. You’re screwed.”

Percy’s arm whipped to point in the dragon’s direction. “It talks!” he shouted, either breaking the silencing charm or Harry had lifted it without them noticing.

Harry stunned him. “I shouldn’t have brought him here,” he said, thoughtfully looking at Percy. “I’ll Obliviate him and send him back, never fear.”

“Harry, please, if you’d just listen-”

“Hermione,” Harry looked to her. “You’re a bloody idiot.”

“Now, Harry, you know she’s not-” Ron started.

“She certainly never used to be,” he said to Ron, fixing his bright green eyes on his best friend. “But she is now. And worse, she’s a murderer. She’s dangerous in her ignorance, you know. If she cannot cooperate, she will be tried and unmercifully disposed of, for all the cruelty she’s caused. Do you understand? She is more hated than even the Minister. My clever Hermione. Little more than a political rat, destined for the gallows by her own making.” He shook his head, looking so sad that the anger Ron felt was vastly diminished.

Hermione was looking at Harry. “You can’t possibly think you’ll tear down the Ministry, Harry,” she said.

“You know as well as I do that I can do it,” he said to her. “You know what I’m capable of. Negotiating will not work. You may skip the pleading altogether. Your choice is clear, Hermione. And even if you do cooperate, I do not know that it will be enough in the end. You are despised, do you understand? Hated by good people. And I must confess that I don’t blame them, though I am more sad than anything. Sad for you. For my Hermione, and my Ron, who I missed more than anything in that other world.”

He stared at them each, softly but coldly.

“Cooperate or hang. The choice is yours,” he said, and then waited.

And waited; in almost perfect silence.

Ron looked at him and raised his hand. It was a silly thing to do, he realised, and he blushed but kept it up. “Put your hand down, the war’s over,” Harry joked.

Ron licked his lips, meeting Hermione’s wide eyes. “I’ll help you,” he croaked, and then stronger, “I’ll help, Harry.”

“And I will as well,” Arthur said, stepping forward.

Hermione suddenly burst into tears. “I don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Ron, Ron, how could you-?”

She fell to the floor, stunned, and Ron’s body jolted toward her. But he stopped himself.

“I’ll erase her memory,” Harry told him, comfortingly. “You’ll have to keep her safe, when the time comes.”

Ron nodded. “Well, Kingsley,” Harry addressed the man next. “Is this the parting of the ways, I wonder?”

Kingsley stood before them and Ron was glad to see a thoughtful look on his face. “What you’re proposing is another war, Harry.”

“I am, yes. Though I hope it won’t be a long campaign.”

“I wanted peace,” Kingsley said. “I wanted to be done with fighting. You want us to join you, join the resistance, and I am not stupid enough not to understand why…but I hate you for asking me. I won’t let you erase my memory.”

They both knew Kingsley would rather die than be Obliviated, for his own self-control and that singular awareness of oneself was of the utmost importance to him. They were a lot alike. Here, though, Harry most definitely had the upper hand, but he would not kill Kingsley, to be sure.

“I joined Robards for a reason,” Kingsley went on. “At the time, his agenda made sense, Harry. Do you know that not all of the Order agreed?”

“Killed, were they?”

Kingsley nodded. “Vanished. Killed. Gone.”

“Do I have your cooperation, Kingsley?”

The man raised his wand and looked at it. He kept his eyes down as he said, “Yes. Yes, you do.”

A breeze picked up, heavy with magic, and settled over them. A part of Ron sizzled disturbingly, as if he was put out after being set afire. “Sorry,” Harry said with a grin. “The binding won’t hurt you if you don’t betray us.”

Ron had no time to marvel at Harry’s power, for Harry was stepping forward to speak. And he noticed how changed Harry was, really noticed it, for the first time.

“Now,” his once best friend and now stranger began, the smile for them devilish and energetic. “Here’s the plan–”

::::::::::

“Potter!”

Harry was in the middle of slagging poor Montrose, a Keeper-made-Lieutenant by an overly sympathetic Sutch, and so did not hear Malfoy’s call.

“You couldn’t use a musket or throw a grenade farther than your grandmum, so we got you a wand, but you can’t even cast a stunner, Montrose, and what practice we’ve scheduled for you –and our schedule is abominably tight, mate– you’ve skived.”

“Potter! We’ve got a problem!”

“Really, Montrose, what on earth do you think you’re doing? Or not doing? I don’t know, explain yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter,” said Montrose. “But it’s the noise that does it. Rattles me something terrible. I won’t be a Lieutenant, sir, if you think I shouldn’t. Pendry would be better. I’ll only ruin things,” Montrose told him sadly.

“Well, a gun-shy officer won’t do, that’s the God honest truth,” Harry agreed, his hands on his waist. “But I don’t worry so much about Sutch’s crew, they can take care of themselves. The fact of the matter is, Montrose, that I won’t send a man into battle who will turn away. It’s as good as a death sentence. What do you want to do?”

“Potter, for Merlin’s sake-”

Montrose looked behind Harry with a wary eye. “I think Malfoy wants to speak with you,” he acknowledged.

“Yes, Potter-”

“What do you want to do?” Harry repeated rather forcefully over Malfoy.

“Ground crew would suit me, sir, and Pendry for Lieutenant,” Montrose said immediately.

“Done,” Harry obliged. “Now, what the devil is it, Malfoy? I’m mutt n’ jeff after your howling.”

Malfoy glared at him with the utmost hatred and said, “Mercer’s been caught as Trenchant.”

Their resident Enforcer, happily locked away in the enclosure and an unwilling participant in their deception thanks to Polyjuice Potion, was supposed to visit the Ministry on a monthly basis to report the goings on of Snowdon. Mercer had taken his place on those vital occasions, and so far, in their six month steady training and preparations, the disguise had held. It was thanks in part to Ron, Arthur, and Kingsley, that what (if any) rumours of their actions had made their way to the Ministry were snuffed out as soon as they gained life. Discovery remained unlikely, thanks to these efforts. But their secrecy may as well be for naught if Mercer was found out.

“Has he talked?” Harry asked him intently.

Malfoy sneered. “Should we assume he has?”

Harry nodded. “Ron told you this?” He asked, and said at Malfoy’s assent, “Good, then he’s already trying to draw them out. Between him and Kingsley, things might just go to plan.”

Malfoy scoffed. “Right, Potter,” he rolled his eyes. “We’re not ready.”

“We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Harry countered. He suddenly smiled and turned to the unashamedly listening Montrose to say, “Good thing we’ve got you sorted before going to war. Though it seems the war is coming to us.”

::::::::

“Weasley’s got them outside Hogwarts, and Kings managed to insinuate our position here. We’ve contacted Neville, he’s bringing volunteers. A hundred maybe.”

“A proper scrum, no doubt about it. Ha, ha, ha. Roland would have me broken for this rabble. Ha, ha, ha. Beat to quarters then, Charlie!”

Charlie was looking at Harry askance, and turned to Bill to ask, “What did he say?”

“We’re fighting, Charlie, dear,” Harry said exuberantly, lifting himself atop Remy with much more precision than his makeshift crew. “We know the plan, we’re a tight enough formation. Beat to quarters.”

Still no comprehension lit Charlie’s face, and he shrugged after a moment of contemplating Harry. “Alright, mates,” Charlie said to the waiting Keepers. “Let’s do this.”

Harry frowned at Remy and whispered, “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

It was an impressive sight; a flurry of action, of men running to the waiting dragons in full-rig, for while they waited for word of Ron and Kingsley Harry had them make ready. They were no where near perfection, and never in their wildest dreams could they work as smoothly and as adeptly as the Aerial Corps back home, but their manning of the rigs was a thing of pride, considering. Staggered shouting of ‘all lies well’ rang across through the field, and Remy’s last signal to go brought them to the sky.

Their heavyweights would hide in the shadow of Snowdonia, a marked half of the force, and the rest, lead by Remy, would make way to the grounds of Hogwarts, a scene of battle familiar to them all. The option of Harry’s former school as a battle ground was one he could not pass up. It had turned summer holiday a week ago, and thanks to prayer, the school was largely uninhabited. The unexpected early beginning of the war was not something Harry was peeved about. They were ready enough, and though he was sure most of the Keepers would find their hearts heavy with the coming violence, Harry knew this to be the correct course of action.

They flew for barely an hour, fast and high. Behind them the Enforcers took to Eryri ten minutes before they came upon the force at Hogwarts, and both battles fought with every man available. Somewhere else, where fire and destruction had not yet made the news, the calm Ministry shuddered with a foreboding they did not understand. And in the underground of the many ill-used refugees, beaten rebels and hidden sympathizers– hope sprang eternal.

::::::::::::

MacArthur was a man that made things very hard for Captain Laurence. The rebellion couldn’t have come at a more terrible time, in Granby’s opinion. They had their orders, none of which mentioned their involvement, and the misfortune of being caught in the hullabaloo had spread distemper among them. The eggs were their foremost priority, though Mr. Tharkay’s search for the smuggling business (conveniently running through the whole of Australia) was a second matter of high importance.

Granby was aware of Laurence’s ambivalence. He was imbued with the situation here, due to his own morals and loyalty to the crown. Bligh was about as awful as MacArthur, and both were of the opinion that Laurence and Granby, along with their crews and the hopeful Captains, were a sort of reinforcement for each cause. But the Admiralty sent orders after the first package, addressing the rebellion as a minor disturbance they should not concern themselves with. Yet, they had no real idea of the extent MacArthur’s hold. By the time they reached the Chinese port, the aggravating circumstances could only come to a climax thanks to the absolute pomposity of Nesbit Willoughby.

Granby was aware that when the crown butted heads with poor Laurence’s sense of right and wrong, there was trouble. And they suitably embroiled themselves in the fighting, going against direct orders to have the port destroyed. When all of the rather blustery hubbub was said and done, Laurence worried day and night (with no help from that ridiculous Rankin) of the consequences of his near-treason.

It was a huge relief that the Allegiance would come for them with new papers, and bring Hammond to their doorstep. They were to make the journey to Brazil, as soon as possible, to form alliances with the forces attacked there by the Tswana. No word was mentioned of MacArthur, or of Laurence’s defense of the port. Though, in confidence, Jane Roland sent a rather critical letter to Laurence, speculating on his want to go the way of Potter. This was immediately apologised for, in writing, but it had hurt Laurence quite badly.

As a friend to them all, the absence of Harry and Remy still pained them, but it was well-known that Laurence and Granby had held Harry in higher regard than all else. Roland herself was silent enough about the affair to assure them of her own sorrow, though her concern for Laurence had loosened her tongue, in this case. The loss of a good captain and friend only exasperated the aggravation in regards to the situation in Australia, and when they left they were glad to see the back of it. Granby received his orders before Laurence, so that his cruise in India was cut short and they would meet before boarding the Allegiance. Time was of the essence, and so their passage to Brazil began with little panoply.

The loss of Captain Riley put Laurence into a state of quiet servitude to his own distress. Granby could see it, despite Laurence’s very able restraint, and he worried for his former captain as only a friend could. But the subsequent marooning was handled with noted impressiveness, as only Laurence could so brilliantly remain level-headed during such circumstances, and the loss of Granby’s arm made him forget his concern for a while. It did nothing to help Laurence’s guilt no doubt, but Granby did well not to blame anyone or harp too long on his handicap.

Poor Iskierka likely meant well with her fixing the Sapa Inca’s sights upon him. She knew of his preference, but the selfish desire to see Granby wedded to an empress was too much for her. He had had to speak sharp with her, unfortunately, and the memory of his confession to Laurence was still a source of embarrassment. He thought of it now, of Iskierka’s guilt for pressing him and her terrible sorrow at his poor stump of an arm, and of his words with Laurence. Camped in Paraty, after a long night of consultation, Granby lay beside Little and found he could not sleep for all the chaotic thoughts running through his head.

He felt for Catherine, who had been informed of Riley at their camp that night. But he had not missed Laurence’s flush at Little’s attentions to him. It would be said, however, that Laurence (dear, Laurence) was not intolerably put out by Granby’s confession. He thought of that conversation now:

“I am very sorry,” Laurence had said, apologising for Granby’s preference in the only way a good man of the times could. Granby had shrugged, but for all his loss he was sorry as well.

“So you see, I cannot marry her, if she’ll have me,” he said in regards to the Sapa Inca. Some jolting of his heart bade him then, to admit, “I would be a terrible man in mourning should I consent, though my betrayal of him with Little is enough to shame me.”

Laurence’s eyes widened. “B-but of course,” he stuttered. “My God, John, if I had known��I’m so sorry,” he said.

This was the first anyone, having known of Granby’s attachment, had been so sincere in their sympathies. Roland could hardly look at him, those years ago, for her own pain. He felt the sorrow take hold, and was humiliated to find his eyes wet. “I,” he paused, casually covering his face. “I have taken up with Little, and I know it is a terrible misuse of Harry’s memory, but worse for Little. Much worse. I do not…I cannot love anyone else. Never again.”

“Does Little,” Laurence awkwardly cleared his throat. “Does Little assume your affections?”

“It is hard to tell, of course, Little is very…quiet.” Granby suddenly laughed bitterly. “Harry was never so. Harry spoke his mind. The difference is startling, Laurence, so very huge, between them. Little’s comforts are appreciated, I assure you. He is a good man. But Harry can have no superior. Imagine it, only realising quite how enchanted you are with someone once they’re gone. A part of me is broken without him. He was so very…so very wonderful.”

Laurence fidgeted a bit, but managed to say, “You need not assure me of that, I beg you. Harry, though I would have never thought him of the taste, would do any man a world of good. As my friend, I could find no other as understanding nor so wholly genuine as he. I miss him so, John, though I cannot rightly empathise with your loss.”

This was as far as Laurence would flatter, for his regard was in action instead of word. Granby appreciated it, just the same. “Temeraire and Iskierka are bitter with me,” he revealed, though he was sure Laurence had not noticed. “Their loyalty to Harry and Remy prompts disgust in how easy I have turned to Little. I am ashamed of myself, they need not feel that I am indifferent. But this is making you uncomfortable, Laurence, I am sorry.”

“I am glad you told me,” Laurence had said. “Pray, do not think you should remain silent on my account, especially if you are hurting.”

These good words from a good friend had carried Granby on until now. Yet, while in Little’s presence the guilt arose once more. And Little was awake to hear his thoughts, however unspoken.

“Do not think I expect anything more,” Little whispered to him.

Granby started but turned to him as Little gathered his words.

“I must confess to you that I dearly loved Harry,” he went on. “He was so very kind. And he was for you, John. Simply for you, as you were for him.”

“I have treated you badly,” Granby said, filled with pain at Little’s words.

Little smiled in the dark. “I wanted to be a friend to you, and to Harry,” he said. “Though I never expected to share your bed. It is a nice thing, sharing your bed, John, but I am quite attached to Chenery.”

“Chenery!” Granby gaped, but by God was he relieved. He felt a sort of laughter try to take hold of him. “Has he any idea of your affections?”

“None whatsoever,” Little sighed. “I have tried, heavens how I’ve tried, to give small hints of my heart. He is bullheaded and oblivious, as only my Chenery can be.”

“My Harry was just the same.”

“How did you persuade him?” he asked, rolling onto his back and staring up at the stars. “I am at wit’s end, John, I tell you.”

Granby let his laughter come up. “I confessed, and I was lucky enough to have my love returned.”

“But that was Harry, wasn’t it? He was not nearly so unaware of others as he seemed. And he had a great capacity for love.”

“And so does Chenery, my dear,” Granby told him, feeling better than he had in so very long a time. “Come, if we cannot sleep we shall plot. You will win Chenery with my help, you’ll see.”

They spoke into the night of the matter, and when sleep finally took them a turn of a glass to dawn, they fell into dreams with the knowledge that their affair was over. And something in Granby’s heart, holding out for the impossible, let out an excited tremble at the resilience of love.

::::::::::

Two months. Two deadly months of scrum. Harry collapsed on Remy’s forearm and gave a prelude to a snore. “Do not sleep just yet,” Remy said, yawning widely. “Bill’s coming.”

Harry lifted himself up with tired dignity, and met Bill’s weary eyes. “The Butcher’s bill, then,” he murmured, before calling to him, “How goes it?”

“Better than Tuesday,” Bill said, sitting down. “Six wounded. None dead.”

“We’re doing well, you know,” Harry told him, shifting to sit cross-legged. “It might be close to that time.”

“The final stroke with half the men we had before?” Bill contemplated sarcastically. “If you think so.”

“Bill,” Harry said, with slight admonishment. “We’ve got better. The Ministry has got worse. What more could you want?”

“An end to it,” he answered, covering his face with his hands.

“This is a short war, William,” Harry reminded him. “A very short, very important war. And before you insert that you thought the Second War was shorter, I’ll remind you that there was hardly any dilly-dallying in this campaign. We began strong, and I find it very likely we will end strong.”

“You sound like Robards,” Bill laughed, in a better mood than before, thankfully. He sobered quickly, however. “Don’t you think this is a bit more…brutal…than we had thought it would be?”

Harry thought on this for a moment. To Bill, it was likely a very high-priced endeavor. The loss was nowhere near extravagant, but still quite expensive. He could find no pain in himself for the loss of Percy, though he was sad, infinitely sad for the Weasleys. Hermione and Ron had ducked out of the war early, thanks to Ron’s cooperation, and Arthur had done the same for the rest of his family. No other Weasley besides Charlie and Bill were involved.

There were friends gone, poor Mercer tortured to death, Brown and McKinney dead in battle, and the Welsh Green named Henry fallen to death along with his captain and crew from a grenade from the ground. There was an immense loss in the refugees and volunteers that had come out of hiding to take their stand. Many had paid the price. And even though this would be a short war, it would not be an unbloodied one.

“All war is brutal,” Harry finally said. “But yes, Bill, it is…it is always hard. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t know what you’ve got to be sorry about,” Bill said, rising to his feet. “We wouldn’t have fought if not for you. And we wouldn’t be winning neither. And we are winning. You’re right.”

Harry grinned. “Let’s have another week of wearing them down. Get the last of the Enforcers. Make Robards a little more desperate.”

“Then the Ministry?”

“Then we take her for a prize,” Harry grinned and winked.

Remy yawned again and said, somewhat mockingly, “I like prizes.”

::::::::::

“Well, this is fortunate,” Harry said into the curve of Robards ear. Around them, the invasion of the rebels took the closest Enforcers, would-be warriors in office, and straggling civilians as prisoner. Their team of dragons waited above, prepared to capture anything running. The Muggle world just outside the lift was sadly unaware of Harry’s most impressive, most subtle victory to date.

“You think this is the end, Potter?” Robards said over the blood his mouth. He had been punched, very discriminately, by an excited refugee. “The Ministry will not be brought to heel by a bunch of useless inbreds!”

Harry laughed at him, and sat him very kindly in the chair for his guests. He gestured to Teddy, who, with much flourish, sat in the Minister’s seat. “If you don’t surrender we’ll kill you,” his godson said happily. “Sorry.”

Robards looked to them both and sneered. “You cannot take me and expect those loyal to me to stand down. They won’t.”

“We’ve captured or killed most of your loyal subjects,” Teddy said with a roll of his eyes. “Get it together, Robards, you’ve lost.”

Harry coughed out a laugh. With his wand trained on the man, he said, “Listen, it won’t be that bad. We’re not tyrants. We’re just putting a stop to your rule. You’re really not all that good at this job, sorry to say.”

Robards merely snarled at him.

“We shouldn’t kill him,” Bill said, coming into the office. “All accounted for. No one’s left.”

“Do you hear that, Robards?” Harry asked, turning his gaze back to the man. “There’s nothing left of your Enforcers. It is truly over.”

“I will not surrender!” Robards bellowed. “This is my Ministry!”

“Throw him in Azkaban,” Charlie yelled from the door. “We’ll try him after the election.”

“Election? Election?” Robards howled.

Harry stared at him askance. “Why of course an election,” he said, shrugging. “This is a democracy, sir. Sort of. I’m afraid you’re a bit confused as to who is the villain is here.”

They escorted Robards out of the Ministry, though it wasn’t quiet. “This is MY Ministry! I am the Minister for Magic! The Wizarding World belongs to ME!” He rambled.

“Alright, mate, alright,” Harry said, leading him out amidst the wide-eyed stares of the prisoners. “It’s your ministry. The world belongs to you. Let’s calm down a bit. There’s a good lad.”

It was now clear to all (despite the assertions of a distressed, slightly unhinged Robards) that the war was over. A year and a half, or close to, of fighting, and their efforts had proved a success. Behind him, the cheers of the refugees, of their men, of quickly adaptable politicians and secret advocates carried them out of the beaten Ministry.

Yet the noise in his ears could not compete with the noise in Harry’s heart. For he was that much closer to going home.

:::::::::::

The election came about just after the other open positions in the Ministry were filled. The interview process for reasonable Ministry personnel, done by an overworked Mr. Weasley, took the better part of two months. With hurrying. In the meantime, most of the still living Creatures banned by the regime came back to take advantage of the new order of things. Harry hadn’t quite realized just how many had been driven away by Robards policy, until they returned.

The upheaval had spread to India, where Sushanta was leading his own rebellion. Dragon Keeping was swiftly becoming an Aerial Corps, adopted by countries Harry was surprised to find were very relieved that Robards had been overthrown. They called Harry a genius commander, a man of legend for his quick work to take over the Ministry; a dangerous adversary and a profitable ally etc, etc.. Harry was less than impressed with these titles, but didn’t much care otherwise.

Slowly, but surely, the British Wizarding World managed to persevere. It was lucky there was less damage, this time, than in the aftermath of the Second War. And it was a much happier time, according to Bill. They felt settled, whereas the warriors of the last struggle had been wary of the new policies. Harry was not a fool, and so did not think there would be no wars after this. Yet it felt like the dawn of a new age for the tired resistance, and Harry would not lower their spirits with his pessimism.

To Harry surprise, Kingsley ran for Minister alongside a perpetually innocent looking Brewster (the same man Harry had met with a head full of wonky morals). Kingsley, being a turncoat to Robards, was regarded as a hero, and his win of the position of Minister was pretty uncontested. His apparent desire for fair rule had not stopped Harry from warning him that if Robards shadow still lived on in Kingsley’s policies, then Harry would be the one to put Kingsley down. This warning was taken seriously.

Ron and Hermione did not come back to England. Last Harry had heard, they were settled in Sri Lanka, of all places, ignoring the overthrown Wizarding Britain with single-minded (and hopefully peaceful) determination. Percy’s death had made Mrs. Weasley old and weak, and Harry was full of remorse for it. But Bill, Charlie and Mr. Weasley had come to regard their own involvement in the matter as the only blame; and they handled all responsibility despite Harry’s protestations.

Of the changes, Harry was most glad of the Ministry approved Aerial Corps. Harry’s Right, a humorously named law that was put into effect shortly after Kingsley’s promotion of Minister, was to do with the dragons and their new status. It consisted of a number of humane rights for dragons, and made the Corps an approved section of the military. Which was needed, considering Robards’ Law Enforcement was quite destroyed.

There came a time, nigh on two years since Harry had arrived, that the reconstruction settled. All seemed to be well, after the ballyhoo of new laws and shifting politics, after a scrum with a group of seven Wizards loyal to Robards had been taken care of. The last event to provide closure was Robards trial, and those of his compatriots. None of which had been put to death, even though they deserved it. Kingsley brought with him a new tolerance, easily adopted by the self-loving public. The outcry of appeasement was minimal. They were a tired world much weary of bloodshed, and it showed.

And like a cat that had spent a long time catching mice, Britain finally curled up and slept in peace. Harry watched it happen with a satisfied Remy at his side. Thus, Harry judged the time right to finally commune with death, one night in the winter of 2017. He lay beside Remy and struggled to clear his mind, snorting at the memory of Snape and forcing out silly thoughts that stayed to spite him.

-you only call- death said, while he was on the edge of sleep, making Harry’s previous efforts null.

“Well,” Harry huffed aloud. “You know what I want to ask.”

-you go where death goes, master- death answered.

“So it’s possible?” he questioned, not daring to hope. Not daring at all.

-possible-

::::::::::

Harry waited, deliberately, for Remy to be occupied with his breakfast. It was a cool morning, punctuated by a north easterly breeze coming up from the mountain range, and the pleasant echo of chattering dragons in the background. The Eryri meadows had developed a sheet of the purest snow overnight; the tips of their surrounding peaks dipped in white ink; beautiful against the clear blue sky. Harry took in the air with more attention than usual. His cheerful mood spread to Remy, to Charlie and Fred and was contagious to any he spoke with that day.

“Remy,” he said, watching a particularly bloody leg of cow slide down the dragon’s gullet. “I think we shall go home soon.”

Remy sputtered, spitting out a bloody mess toward Harry.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Harry whined, flapping his arms to get the meat off.

“That’s what you get for surprising me, you fiend,” Remy huffed, picking a piece of his food from his teeth. “Are you mocking me, Harry?”

Harry was honestly shocked at this. “Beloved, why would you think that?” He cried.

Remy looked suitably excited now, shuffling closer to him and nosing his soiled clothes. “I am sorry,” he said. “Only, I want to go home so very badly, mon capitaine. I was afraid you joked.”

“Never, darling, not ever,” Harry assured him, running his hands down Remy’s snout. “I want to go home just as badly.”

“I had hoped you would,” Remy said tentatively. “But, I thought about it, and I wondered if you wouldn’t like to stay now. We won the war here, and at home there is still fighting. And the men here were so happy to see it done. I wondered if you couldn’t be happy here too.”

Harry gazed at him fondly, though with a pinch of concern. “Is this why you’ve said nothing of home, these months?”

Remy nodded. “You could like it here, Harry. If we stayed. And I could learn to like it too. Pray, worry not that I would object. Fred is good company, though he is young. And Charlie likes you just as much as Granby.”

He gave an astonished laugh. “Charlie?” Harry repeated with much surprise. “Charlie Weasley? What on earth are you talking about?”

“He likes you like Bee likes you,” Remy said, slightly irritated. “You are very silly when it comes to other’s affections, you know. Charlie is always watching you.”

“My heart belongs to another, even if Charlie did fancy me, my dear,” Harry reminded him.

Remy snuffled his hair and said, “But you could be happy here, if you wanted.”

“Never,” Harry said immediately, holding Remy’s head still for a proper hug. “This isn’t my home any longer, Remy, and you would not be happy. Do you think any part of me would ever be content if you were heartsick? But besides that, and I see you are ready to object– I miss my Bee, and the war, which has been ours from the start. And we will see it finished there, my love, because it is a part of us and we cannot abandon it.”

“But you have been at war all your life,” Remy countered. “Aren’t you weary of it?”

“Are you?”

“Well, no, because our friends are fighting, and because our home is threatened.”

“Yet you can stay here, and rest,” Harry pointed out. “Do you want to stay and try to be happy? No one would fault you for it.”

Remy looked at him closely. “No, capitaine,” he finally responded. “I would not.”

“Me neither. And I am not tired of the war. Tired of death and bloodshed, of course, but of battle, of fighting for our home? Never, my dear, never. So you see, we are alike in mind. Whatever is there to prat about?”

Exuberant and cheerful, Remy gathered him close and snuffled into his shoulder as Harry stroked his lovely scales. “Oh, I’m so happy,” Remy confessed, rather quietly. “Home,” he said wistfully.

“Yes,” Harry agreed, with his heart and spirits lifted. “Home.”

::::::::::::

The few people he told of his departure were sad to see him go, though Malfoy smiled a bit too much when wishing him a safe journey. Since he did not say much of anything about how they would get home, it was likely Bill thought him mad, but Harry was used to this opinion and took no offense. Charlie came to him on the eave of their leave-taking, in private but for Remy and Fred.

Harry raised a hand to greet him, and was entirely taken aback when Charlie quickly grabbed him and soundly kissed him on the mouth.

“Sorry,” Charlie said when he pulled away. “I’ve never wanted kiss anyone more than you. Thank you, Harry, for everything. You’re ridiculous, you know? Magnificent and overwhelmingly wonderful and just mental.”

He opened his mouth- his thoroughly kissed mouth- to make some awkward, dreadful apology, but Charlie stepped back from him and said, “No, I know you’ve got some bloke in that other world, and I’m mad jealous of him. But he must be something else to deserve you. Anyway, Harry, I wanted to say goodbye properly, and tell you that we’ve got eggs for you.”

“Eggs!” Remy exclaimed, recovered from his snickering fit with a very amused Fred. “You cannot mean it!”

“Twenty-six of them,” Charlie said with a grin. “Six Welsh Greens, Fireballs and Longhorns, a Ukrainian Ironbelly and two Horntails (good luck with them) and five lovely Short Snouts. If our Keepers are correct, I mean. We’ve so many eggs lately we’re getting a bit lazy. Did you know that post battle stimulates the libido?” He waggled his eyebrows at this, making Harry burst into laughter.

“I’m afraid we’re not for la dolce vita, where we go,” Harry chuckled. “But these eggs, Charlie…prodigious kind of you. Capital, indeed. More than you think.” He was so overjoyed, in fact, that kissed Charlie passionately on the cheek.

“So you say,” Charlie said, blushing. “Wherever you’re off to, I wouldn’t mind going myself. What charming vernacular; you’re a regular gent,” he teased, making fun of Harry’s adopted way of speaking.

“Berk,” Harry laughed. “If you wanted to go with us, you could,” he offered, quite seriously.

Charlie grinned. “And leave my new post? Haven’t you heard? I’m Admiral of this lot. I’m in clovers. You’re mad.”

“Passed over for money!” Harry exclaimed, acting offended. He smiled wildly a moment later. “But really Charlie, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Remy nuzzled both Charlie and Fred with enthusiasm. “You might have won the war for us, you know,” Remy told them.

“Well then, you’ll think of me wherever you go now, and maybe give us another kiss if you ever come back.”

Harry kissed him on the other cheek, and hugged him close. “I owe you nothing,” he joked.

The next morning, they stood before Bill, Charlie, Malfoy, Teddy, and Neville. Their going away party was just as Harry wanted it; small and without fanfare. He would have wanted Ron to be there, and even Hermione, but the letter he had handed to Bill would have to do. They said their goodbyes, short but with much affection.

“Well, we’re off,” Harry said, waving an errant hand.

“Bon voyage,” Neville told him with a smile.

“Good luck, mate,” Bill grinned.

“Lose an eye for me,” Teddy winked.

“Bye, Harry,” Charlie said with affection.

Malfoy grunted.

They went aloft, the eggs and other essential materials in the rig below Remy’s belly. They flew over the highest peak, looking down at Eryri with a fond farewell. Behind them, the group of people who knew Harry, who in time and once his disappearance was known would become almost as much of the legend as he was, sat back on their heels and smiled at his back.

“Er,” Neville said, breaking the silence. “Does Harry know how to travel to other dimensions?”

“He must,” Bill answered, scratching his head. “I guess?”

“We’ll know soon enough, anyway,” said Malfoy, and when they asked for an explanation he retorted, “If it stays quiet, you can bet he’s gone, Weasley. If there’s fire over Scotland he’s failed. Potter causes havoc wherever he bloody goes, for Merlin’s sake.”

And this, they supposed rightly, was Malfoy’s way of saying goodbye to a friend. They watched Remy until he was a speck on the horizon, before going back into the enclosure.

:::::::::::::

-does master wish-

Harry sat back on Remy’s neck and faced the specter with narrowed eyes. They flew steadily, almost tranquilly, over the vast expanse of ocean before them. The Highlands lay at their backs, the swarming clouds- a cold front on the Atlantic- on the horizon, separated in sight by the frothy grey sea.

Master does wish, Harry thought, a bit sarcastically.

There was a jolt, a westerly gale, and they were suddenly in a waterspout and turning, turning. Then they stood neither here nor there, facing death who, if not for his lack of a face entirely, Harry could swear was smirking at them. Remy’s groan of displeasure at being thrown about so made Harry glare and say aloud, “You could have gone easier on us. We’ve precious cargo, you know.”

Death’s head swiveled to the side; inquiring. -master wishes to go back- it said.

“Yes, I do,” Harry answered, giving up on his glower. “To home, understand, no place other, alright?”

-I can take you to death-

Remy’s eyes widened. “We don’t want to die,” he said, turning to Harry. “Tell him that.”

Harry opened his mouth to relay but death cut him off saying, -I can take you where death is-

“Helpful fellow, isn’t he?” Harry sighed to Remy. “Just so long as we’re alive, the eggs are alright, and we’re home, mate…er…death. Alright?”

“Does he have trouble talking?” Remy asked in a hush. “Is he…Harry, is he like Volly?”

Harry covered his laugh with a hand, before sobering rather quickly at the flickering shadows, which he assumed were signs of irritation in the specter. “No offense, meant, mate,” Harry said to him. “I’m sure you can talk fine.”

Death sighed, and it was such a human sound of impatience that Harry felt his laughter bubble up again. Tired of them, Death said -master wishes- and they were off in the waterspout again.

They emerged over the ocean, though in a warmer clime than before. Harry coughed, having got a mouth full of sea foam, and Remy lifted up into the sky to get away from the spray of water.

“That was exceedingly unpleasant, mon capitaine,” Remy told him. “But are we here? Are we home?”

It was hard to tell. Before them lay water, an immense amount, and the dying sun of the afternoon. The breeze was warm- too warm for the Atlantic.

“I don’t have our charts,” Harry murmured to himself. “But it is ghastly warm. I wonder, I wonder….”

“Harry, Harry, look!” Remy shouted very suddenly, rising higher above the ocean. Harry stared at where Remy gestured, frowning until his face cleared with shock. Flotsam was pock-marking the sea, barrels and scorched wood as well as netting and what looked like hammocks. They flew over the wreckage and saw, to their sorrow, men drowned and held fast in rigamortis to the floating debris.

“Lower, Remy, we shall check for survivors,” Harry said quickly, his stomach plummeting as they dipped. He jostled the nearest man, who came loose from the flotsam and sunk into the sea. The next did the same, and onward, and there were no moans or cries for help across the floating precession.

“Well, he said he would take us to death, didn’t he?” Harry muttered to himself, unhappy to see so many sailors dead. They rounded the bobbing dead a few more times, listening for any signs of life. “They are all dead, dearest, I’m sorry to say,” Harry told Remy, after a good hour of searching.

“Oh, I wish I knew where we were. Do you think the ship has sunk?”

He started. “It might not have, just yet. I count two hundred men in the sea, perhaps. It would have to be a considerable frigate for all of them. It may still be foundering. We shall follow the debris, Remy, and see what there is to find.”

They flew until the sun began its quick descent into the ocean. What little light was left provided the scene of the foundering ship at dusk. Harry saw that its colours, drooping slowly into the froth turned up by the steady sinking, were sadly English. It looked as though an explosion had sunk her, for there was little seen of the quarterdeck. A gaping hole had gutted her poor underbelly. Bales shimmied out of the wreckage, resilient where men were not, and the flotsam continued to pop upward as the ship disappeared, quickly now, until only the stem breached the water. It was an uncommon stem on a vessel, rounded into a vast deck that was very familiar to Harry’s eye. Her large bottom swayed in place, vertical with the dying sun, and a sinister bubbling took the ship down, down, into the abyss of the ocean.

And then over Remy’s wing beats, and the hollow loudness of the sea eating up the huge ship, Harry heard sputtering. Sputtering! A man, likely having caught his hand on a shooting bale, had emerged from the ocean vomiting water. But he was close to the suction of the sinking, and there, there another man was swimming towards him on his back, reaching for his surviving companion; though they would be sucked in soon if Harry did nothing.

“Remy-!” But Remy had already seen. Diving as if they were a massive gannet, Remy scooped up the lone survivors like mackerel. The sputtering continued as Harry hoisted them up, using every bit of strength he could manage to swing them toward the netting.

“Damn your eyes, hook on!” Harry shouted as Remy cleared the sinking deck. The rough looking sailor had grasped the netting tightly, but the officer looked ready to fall. Harry unbuckled his harness and swung down Remy’s side to support the man, who had too much sea water in him to find the strength to pull himself up. He and the sailor, together, managed to lift him into the rig, though Harry felt as though he weighed a hundred stone to a tonne.

He climbed up again and sat at Remy’s neck, patting his worried companion to say that all was well. They circled the ship again, by unspoken agreement, but no other man found his way to the surface. “Basson, sir, coxswain,” the rough sailor introduced himself. “Thankee sir, for saving us.”

“Not at all,” Harry said, distractedly taking another solemn glance over the sea. “Do you know our coordinates, by chance?”

Basson nodded enthusiastically, likely shaking out what little teeth he had left. “45°s 130°w about like when she blew. Hands got inna the stores n’ start afire. Damn 'em to hell. Parding, sir. Capin manage out, though he’d wanted go down wit her, bless him.”

“45°s 130°w,” Harry repeated, disregarding the rest of the coxswain’s blubbering for the moment. “The forties! What for?” he murmured to himself.

“On ways sou'west, sir,” Basson said. “Allegiance Sydney ta Sou'merica, sir.”

“Allegiance!” Harry cried, as Remy swung his head about to look into his netting.

“Harry! It was the Allegiance!” he exclaimed. “That was a dragon deck I saw, gone under!”

And Harry was absolutely shocked to find that the officer now so sick and half-drowned, was none other than Captain Riley.

::::::::::::

“Closenuff to tha coast, methinks,” Basson was saying, mopping away the sweat on Captain’s Riley’s brow. “But we mightent go east for him,” he said, gesturing to Riley. “Don’t know that ther surgeons like, in sou'merica.”

“No, you’re right, Mr. Basson,” Harry agreed. “We’ll have to find New Zealand. There is a compass in my chest, there. Pray, bring it to me.”

“Wess by sou'west, sir, you’ll find her,” Basson said, handing him the compass. “Beg parding, sir, but youse a capin?”

Harry started at this question, busy with navigating. “Three points south, my dear, ” he said to Remy, before turning to glance at Basson. “I am, Mr. Basson, or I was. Captain Potter of the Aerial Crops, your servant.”

“Why! Potter!” Basson cried, surprisingly though not for the reasons Harry assumed. “The one whose went inter Paris and destroyed the covert? That wot Potter, sir?”

“Am I so renowned?” Harry frowned. “Did we destroy it, Remy?”

“Oh yes,” Remy answered. “Lien was badly injured too.”

“Tell me what you know,” Harry implored. “I’ve been away for a while.”

“Whys they say you were dead, sir,” Basson revealed, looking at him strangely. “But youse a hera-like, they gave you a medal n’ everyfing.”

His jaw dropped. A medal? For treason? Though, perhaps the politicsof the Admiralty had called for it. He had known men, in his time here, to be dastardly but awarded for it, if another death besides one by law had taken him. Harry was not fool enough to assume a pardon, but if the public thought him a hero, perhaps he would get out of a hanging? It was likely the Gazette had not revealed the circumstances with which Harry had found himself destroying the covert in Paris. In any case, he and Remy had settled on privateering if there was the law against them, and he would not let himself be hanged anyway.

“Well,” Harry muttered. “Well.” He shook himself out of it and said, “There are vials in my chest, Mr. Basson, place them out presently, if you please. I am coming to you.”

He spent the night sifting through the medical supplies he had brought, checking his compass and adjusting Remy’s path. They were flying the distance of a continent across solid ocean, though Harry knew that Remy’s endurance would hold. In the morning, they had only gone off course by two points, and with Basson finally asleep Harry thought it prudent to speak with Remy as they went.

“It is prodigious luck that we’re heroes, Harry,” Remy was saying. “We can see our friends now! I wonder if they were on the Allegiance?”

“They escaped, most likely, beloved,” Harry reassured him. “But a heading of South America is very queer. What could they possibly be doing there? I suppose we’ll find out, in any case. But we’ll get Captain Riley sorted first.”

“Is he very ill?”

“Half-drowned, Rem,” Harry told him, looking across the ocean, without a hope of seeing land soon. “Are you thirsty? We’ve still a bale of water from the rain last night. No? Ah. Don’t worry. He’s not very ill. I gave him a pepper-up, though it was a shoddy dose. Just enough to give him some blush. But he’s taken with fever, and his arm is cut a bit. There’s no sign of gangrene yet, I’m happy to say. I put a poultice on.”

“I did look forward to privateering,” Remy sighed, after a while of silence. “I would like to have as many prizes as Iskierka, though she is greedy for them and must have heaps of gold since we left.”

Harry smiled and patted his neck in comfort. “If we’re back on the post list, my dear, we shall have our prizes soon enough. We’re bringing six and twenty fire-breathers to them. Do you think that is enough to buy a pardon?”

Remy laughed into the wind and Harry joined him, if only because the day’s events had finally caught up with him. They were home. In the clutch of a seemingly never-ending Pacific and a gale away from being hopelessly lost; but home at last.

::::::::::::

“Oh, I’d murder for a cow,” Remy whined, but snatched up the dried chicken quickly. Their stores of dried meat held up in the humidity of the south Pacific, and their bale of water, sparingly used already, had been replenished by a morning rain shower. Their luck had continued, these last five days flying, though Remy was tiring now.

“Land ho!” Basson cried, an hour into the morning. There, straight across Remy’s head, was New Zealand. Harry looked to Captain Riley, who had not woken but for a few delirious mutterings, yet seemed not as close to death as Harry had feared. His fever had peaked the day before, and he was taking in water and food, though only after much persuasion.

“Well done, sir!” said Basson, climbing up the rigging to face him. A life at sea gave him no fear of heights, but five days aloft had made him a proper Corps officer. He monkeyed upward and pointed to the coast, saying, “I woulda thought meself taken by the sea, sir, she be kind enough. But I thankee kindly for saving me. Thankee, sir.”

Harry grinned at him. “Nonsense, Basson. No thanks are necessary.” He was affectionate toward his companion, despite his constant chatter, and so clapped him on the back. “Will you stay with Captain Riley when we reach port?”

“Aye, sir,” Basson nodded. “There won’t be a lady for 'em at home,” he said sadly. “Didn’t make post, sir. He mighten beg you ta take 'im as a guest onna dragon deck, if ye’d be kind.”

Harry blinked. “He’ll face a court martial in England, eh?” he said, reminding himself. “Blast this business. And blast your drunkard sailors.”

“Aye, sir,” Basson agreed.

They landed without problem, and Harry set to work immediately. There was no hospital but a sick-bay at the port, with one solitary surgeon in commission. They hauled Riley out and set him on a bed, lifting him toward the bay. Harry ordered a cow brought to Remy, guineas passing hands, and set about getting himself some dinner. He would have it sent to him, for the parcels of eggs (though disguised as worthless cargo) were too precious to leave unattended.

There was nowhere for Remy to comfortably stay, though the warm beach would do well enough. Remy finished his cow and lay on his side, and Harry moved to unload the rig. “Pray, do not move them,” Remy entreated quietly. “I shall sleep on my side.”

Harry was not bold enough to ask if Remy might accidentally turn over and crush them, and said, instead, “As you wish, dearest, I worry for them as well. The heating charms have held, though I’ll have to recast them tonight.”

“They are warm enough beside me, anyway,” Remy said sleepily. “I am happy to be on land again, though I do so love flying.”

Harry laughed. “Not for five days, I don’t think. You did wonderfully. But sleep now, my dear. Basson watches over Captain Riley, and will bring me news when he is recovered.”

The money Harry had brought with them would perhaps carry them across the Pacific, though he traded a few dried fruits and meats with the skeptical settlers for a little more. New Zealand was a beautiful place, though not many inhabited it at the time but tradesman and the Māori. There was much luck in a surgeon being at port, and Harry was grateful for it. For three days they lounged on sand and stone, keeping close to each other as Basson went to-and-fro the town and sick-bay.

On the third day, after a lackluster tea with some of his own stores of preserved biscuit, Basson came to them aflutter with happiness.

“Capin’s much better, sir,” he said, panting after his run across the sand. “Surgeon says he’ll be up by the 'morrow, good as new. Says youse gone and saved his life, whatever ye did!”

“Basson, it was you who stayed with him below,” Harry said, quite joyfully. “Captain Riley owes his thanks to his coxswain, not me!”

Captain Riley arrived the next afternoon, walking slowly but not taking up Basson’s offered arm. He was smiling, though it was strained, as he came toward them at a soft pace, though not as weakly as Harry would have thought.

“Captain Potter,” Riley said, moving forth to grasp his hand. “It is wonderful to see you. We thought you were dead! Though where you’ve been hiding, I can’t imagine. Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

“Basson kept you alive,” Harry laughed, looking at him fondly. “But we’ve a lot to speak about, I think. Please, sit down, Captain. I apologize for my dress.” He had bathed a day ago and changed clothing, though it was in a sad, wrinkled state. Riley looked clean and much healthier, and his clothing had been washed and pressed. The epaulette on one side, marking him as commander, gleamed merrily in the sun.

“Now,” Harry said when Riley was settled. “Are you well? The water didn’t damage your head, did it? Not your lungs? Basson, he is very pale. The doctor did say he was alright, yes?”

Riley smiled at him. “I’m quite well, Captain Potter, I assure you,” he said just as his coxswain sulkily exclaimed, “I dinnit steal 'em away, sir, doc what says he’s fine wif food an ress!”

“Good! I’m glad to hear it,” Harry told them, very honestly happy Riley was well. Remy snuffled Riley then, who was not at all shy of the dragon and proclaimed, “Why, it is good to see you, Captain Riley! Though I’m sorry about the Allegiance.”

“Yes, damned sorry. To the devil with your men, sir. Straight from gaol, were they?” said Harry.

He immediately regretted encouraging the subject of Riley’s lost ship, however, for the man looked enormously down.

“Lubbers they was, sir,” his coxswain answered for him with his usual enthusiasm. “Ifin they was alive we’d hang 'em righ from the mizzen, sir, righ from. Ifin she’d not sunk too, sir.”

“Well,” Harry coughed, sorry for bringing it up. “Just as long as you’re well, Captain Riley. That’s what matters.” He realized shortly that this was equally insensitive. Harry was sure a Naval Captain would rather anything but his vessel foundered, and likely the weight of its loss was far greater than other things; even Riley’s life.

Luckily, the Captain saved him from further embarrassment. “Were you following our journey, Captain Potter?” he asked gently. “Laurence hadn’t mentioned a rendezvous….”

“Ah, well, yes. You see-” Harry tried to find a way to put his situation into words that didn’t arose concern for his sanity. But every ship had a lunatic, and Riley was likely used to some form of crazy or another.

“You might say that I…spent quite a long time asleep…without memory, if you like,” he settled for saying. “And might I ask for the date, the happenings of the war, and what orders the Allegiance were bound by? Please, and thank you.”

:::::::::

“I can fly it!” Remy said over their overlapping consultation. “It was five days to New Zealand, and a day or two away from the coast! I flew that. I can make it.”

Harry turned to him, not even trying to hide his concerned expression. “Cuzco is far north, my dear, and another week worth of flying.”

“Might you chart a few stops along the way?” Remy persisted. “There are islands on that map, see? We’ll stop there and rest, and then fly to the coast, and stop again.”

Skeptically, Harry looked at the charts they had laid out on the sand. The only ship in port, the Dutch Whaler Madelinus, had refused to carry them to the Incan Empire. It was a large vessel, for a Whaler, yet from Captain Riley’s stuttering translation of their panicked dialect, Remy was too, too big and she would sink under the weight. Money had done little to persuade them. It was also well-known in port that Riley’s ship had foundered, and so he was now a Jonah to them and forbidden from coming aboard.

The only other ship, cruising north of their location, was the HMS Resolute. She was a sixteen gun sloop nowhere big enough to transport Remy, and the intelligence off her had her shadowing a French frigate in southern waters. Riley had absolutely refused imposing upon their orders.

“These islands are not mapped to exactness,” Harry countered. “What if we should not find it off chart, and you should tire and drown yourself? No-”

“Then we’ll find another island,” Remy argued, shuffling in the sand to display his irritation. “We won’t delay long, and you’ve charts now, and Captain Riley says he’s a good hand at maths. He can read Mercator, he says. Can you do it?”

“Don’t be a scrub, I figured out the variations and got us here, didn’t I?” he said, offended.

Remy could not be convinced though, and eventually, their disagreement reached a standstill. Though Harry was close to giving in, of course.

“I leave it at your discretion, Captain Potter,” Riley said, looking irresolute. His coxswain was asleep right on the sand, and a peculiar looking crustacean was tumbling over his coat.

“Well,” Harry deliberated, fixing his eyes to the charts to avoid Remy’s glare. “I suppose we don’t have any other choice,” he said, and over Remy’s triumphant bragging he asserted, “But we’ll have to gather plenty of food and water. We can’t trust on another squall. And if I may make use of Captain Riley’s mathematics, we should chart our journey to the moment. To the moment, Remy! I’ll not have us stranded aloft. Oh, you zealous lout. To blazes with you.”

“We shall be fine, Harry, just see,” Remy told him, though it was in no way comforting. Harry could only hope that fortune favoured the bold.

They settled on leaving the next morning, after a hearty tea of salted crab, goose that was probably stuffed leg of lamb, and goats cheese with wine and mango. Harry’s funds were much depleted by then, as he had spent the previous day buying food to carry them over and other necessities, including medical supplies. He didn’t let himself be persuaded of the importance of beer on their journey, despite Basson’s persuasive argument. Harry gathered three bales of fresh water the next morning, loading them in Remy’s rigging to try its weight (“It’s not heavy at all, Harry, really. Stop fussing so!”) and after a solemn breakfast of citrus fruit and crumpet they were off.

It went to show, for Remy must have all the fortune in the world on his side, that his island was just where the map had left it, and their journey (which not as perilous, weather-wise, as Harry had thought) was as smooth as they could wish. And so, after six days and one morning of travelling, they arrived on the coast of the Incan Empire.

:::::::::::::

Their luck could not stay. It was after the exceedingly bold success of flying so far that the fortune allowed to the small party suddenly ran out. A series of ill things happened then: they came upon a village ravaged by plague, no witnesses in sight to perhaps assure them of a glimpse of Temeraire, and shortly thereafter ran afoul of sickness. There was a moment when Harry was sure Basson had caught plague, but Riley was quick to point out the jaundice and the miniscule twitches of Basson’s legs.

“Scurvy, damn him,” Riley had said once they were sure. Harry, aware of the cure, had reassured Riley that they would not leave his coxswain to die, and privately, thought he could not with his secret supply of modern medicine. “Damn you, Basson, we cannot delay,” he cursed the terribly ill man.

But Riley was a soft touch, and had real regard for the man, and so he returned the favour and nursed Basson back to health. Harry spent those long days observing the wildlife of the Inca, which consisted of incurious llama and very quiet puma, as well as flying Remy over fields in search of wild citrus. Sweet oranges were found not a mile from their camp, and by the end of a week aground, Basson’s fever had ceased along with his twitching limbs. Yet it took another three days (with one spent aloft) to increase his strength to that of a newborn.

And then, of course, the eggs decided to mutiny. Four of the six and twenty were set on hatching, and they landed in a hurry with Remy’s one-sided argument ringing in their ears. The eggs shook and titled, wanting out, and Remy was shouting, “No, no, not now! We haven’t any captains for you!”

Basson had dragged himself away from the vibrating eggs, his wide eyes betraying his desire to keep his current job.

“Should we prepare something, Harry?” Riley was saying, panicked and upset.

“We haven’t anything for you at all, no food, no captains, no prizes! You cannot come out now!” This stopped three of them from their clamouring. “You must wait,” Remy said, gentler now. “That’s better. Be still. Good chaps.”

Yet the fourth was not to be persuaded. The cracking of the egg was as loud as the shot of a pistol, in Harry’s ears, and of course a young Hungarian Horntail poked his head out and shook away the slime and shell stuck to his scales.

“Stubborn, disagreeable brutes,” Harry muttered. “Well, come out then, if you’re sure,” he said, louder.

The Horntail hissed in displeasure as Remy helped him out of the egg, showing exactly how trying he intended to be.

“You are very silly,” Remy said, barely keeping himself from hissing back. “There are no captains to care for you.”

“I’m going to find my captain!” the Horntail told Remy, agitated to the extreme. “Get off me,” he said of Remy’s coddling. “No, I don’t want llama. I’m going to find my captain.”

“Oh, you-”

“Now, let’s calm ourselves. Here-” Harry started, but was shocked silent as the dragonet suddenly went aloft. It shot north, swift as a bird, and they stood watching it flee, frozen and flabbergasted.

“Did that just happen?” Harry exclaimed, running forward to do what, he had no clue.

“Good god!” Riley said as Basson started laughing. “Harry, should we-?”

“Let’s go, let’s go,” he hurried them. Remy was springing about in place to get them to go faster. They flew after the dragonet, who was fast, too fast, and Remy shouted back at the other eggs, “If any of you others decide to hatch I’ll drop you! Oh, what a little scrub!”

“That scrub is at least going in the right direction,” Harry said. “But if he chooses a frog, I’ll go ahead and hang myself.”

::::::::::::

The dragonet went right past Cuzco, to their disappointment. They had followed at a steady enough pace, though far behind, and were resigned to play this game until the Horntail landed, when they were abruptly attacked. A patrol of dragons, too many for Remy to conceivably defeat, weighed upon them in an attempt to bring them aground.

“Riley, Riley,” Harry said in a hush as one of the dragons conversed with Remy in simple French. “Hide the eggs. Hide them, damn it.”

“Harry, they say we have to land,” Remy told him, sounding aggravated and rebellious.

Harry patted him. “We must, Remy,” he said. “We cannot risk it.”

They could not risk damaging the eggs, and so they landed in Cuzco with their aggressive escort surrounding them. And to Harry’s absolute shock, and Basson’s exclaimed, “Ole Bone, Ole Bone!” Napoleon came out to greet them, along with a furious De Guignes.

::::::::::::

Napoleon was a cordial man, and very interested in Harry. “One wonders how a man can retain his bravery in my presence,” he was blathering. “But De Guignes has told me that you are the bravest soul from here to hell!”

De Guignes didn’t look as if he had complimented Harry at all, with that glare. They sat at the Sapa Inca’s table, Harry at Napoleon’s right, and an aghast Riley to the left of De Guignes and the Sapa. Harry rolled his eyes at De Guignes and said, “We’re fugitives, sir. If you think England has condoned our journey here-”

“No, no,” Napoleon said with a laugh. “Why, you would have come with Captain Laurence and his Celestial, if you were. Come now, do try the mullet, it is exceptional. And tell me about your journey!”

Harry vaguely answered him with tall-tales, worried about Remy and the eggs and unwilling to familiarize himself with the man. It was hard not to like Napoleon, though, so this was indeed a lesson in restraint. He had left Basson with Remy, making him vow that upon his life he would guard the eggs and his dragon, disregarding Remy’s insistence that he could protect himself. He tried his best to steer the conversation to Temeraire and Laurence, wanting information of them, but Napoleon was difficult to manipulate.

Finally, it seemed that they were allowed to address the elephant in the room.

“Do you mean to catch your friends?” Napoleon asked. “They left four days ago, without much courtesy, I tell you. Not a word of farewell!”

Escaped, more like, Harry corrected privately. “No,” he denied. “As I’ve said, we’ve been privateering, Remy and I, with an appetite for pirates.”

“Oh, yes, fiends as they are,” Napoleon said, wiping his mouth and draining his wine. “Why not stay here, Harry-?”

And God, Napoleon said his name as if they were regular bosom buddies.

“The Inca are charming people, very hospitable, or pray, come to France. We treat courage well there.”

Harry did not like this slight to England, did not like Napoleon’s faux familiarity, was tired of their bad luck and irritated with De Guignes, who would not stop glaring. “The last time I was in France we all suffered for it, I recall,” he said boldly.

There. Now De Guignes was gaping. But Napoleon did not get offended, for anything, it seemed. “Brave indeed, brave indeed!” the man laughed, pouring Harry another glass of wine. “Why must you be English, eh? I can see the advantage of your loyalty! Come to France, Harry, be my courage when it should fail!”

Harry raised his glass. “To England,” he provoked, and over Napoleon’s laughter De Guignes shot to his feet shouting, “I will duel you, sir! Vive L'Empereur!”

Napoleon gave De Guignes a frosty glare and said something in French which made De Guignes flush. “He will not insult you at your table, my emperor,” yelled De Guignes after his sputtering apologies. “I will have satisfaction, sir!” He challenged Harry.

“I am sorry, very sorry for him,” Napoleon began, but Harry interrupted him. He shot to his feet, threw his wine glass at De Guignes’ head, grabbed Riley by the sleeve, and ran.

It took a moment for the Incan guards to follow, and a moment more for an absolutely shocked De Guignes to stumble after them.

“Go get Remy aloft!” Harry shouted at Riley. “At once, Riley, quick as you please, and meet me outside of the walls. If the patrol comes after you, by God fly. Tell Remy to fly faster than he ever has!”

“But-”

“Damn you, Riley, go!” Harry bellowed, turning about to face the oncoming guards. Riley went, running as fast as he could to Remy, and Harry backtracked and flew down a golden corridor. The men before him made him laugh with their spears and he took out the Elder Wand to swipe them clear off their feet. De Guignes was at the crossroads ahead, looking awed but still irate. He cried France’s name and struck out with his sword, but Harry shoved him aside with a burst of magic and stunned him. He would worry about the honour of a fair fight later.

Harry circled the enclosure, moving through groups of guards with an invigorated grin, and came to the clearing once more to see no Remy in sight. He glanced at the walls, debating how far he should run to hop over, but was stalled by the patrol going aloft. Harry’s worry cut short his pumping adrenaline, and he thought quickly of what to do to keep them from Remy. “No pressure,” he whispered. “No lift.”

The Elder Wand, so attached to his will and so much a part of him; obeyed. The flight of the patrol stuttered, and they were aground once more. Harry grinned, making ready to leave, but there were footsteps, unhurried on the stone path. He thought at first that more guards had come, and swung around with a savage sneer.

Napoleon smiled at him. “I would not have ordered them to kill you,” he said. “You are too valuable to die.”

This was so absurd, given his own circumstances that Napoleon did not know, and of course, the pretentiousness of it- that Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Lien came toward them, then, walking from her clearing and looking at Harry closely.

“Who are you to control the wind?” she asked, frowning at the stillness of the air.

Harry ignored her. “You cannot stop me from leaving,” Harry said to Napoleon. “Not with your men, your guns, or your sword.”

“I am beginning to understand that, yes,” Napoleon observed. “I would ask you what you are, but I doubt it matters. I must query, however, if England knows that she has this advantage.”

Harry smirked at him. “I’m rather ordinary, mate, what would she need to know?”

Napoleon smiled. “Ordinary,” he mused. “How strange a word for you to use. But I see I will not be able to sway you. Alas, think me a friend despite it. If you should need anything, think me a friend.”

Lien looked as though she would dispute this, but Harry raised his eyebrows at her and she settled for glowering with dislike.

“Thanks,” Harry said to him, simply. He did not try to hide his amusement. “I feel I must warn you though– as a friend– that if any more of my people are hurt by your hand, I’ll have your head.”

“How dare you-” Lien began, but Napoleon raised a hand to stop her.

“You know how easily I could take it, I trust,” Harry finished with a wink at the furious Lien.

“I do yes,” Napoleon answered. “I think I do, sir. And as your friend, I feel I must remind you of man’s normal reaction to the unknown. And their fondness for capturing the rare and exotic.”

Harry watched him carefully. “Then pray, let me show you why captivity does not concern me,” he said, before Apparating out of the clearing.

Remy waited for him a mile or so away, worried to death by the time Harry showed an hour later. He assured Remy that he was fine, checked on the eggs, and took off. The setting sun over Cuzco was not as lovely, with no escaped Horntail in sight.

:::::::::::::

“It will be another few days flying to Rio De Janeiro, Remy, perhaps-” he stopped himself and cast a hesitant glance at the eggs.

Riley seemed to read his mind. “There will be ships at Rio, maybe even a mail carrier,” he said, tapping Harry’s arm. “If I may, Harry, I can write to the Admiralty.”

“Is there a chance they may let the eggs stay in Sydney?” Remy asked, tearing into a llama without savoring the taste. He wasn’t complaining about the long, coarse fur, though Harry knew he wanted to.

“A new covert like Sydney, surrounded by rebellion with men in and out of gaol, is no place for treasures of such value,” Riley countered. “Laurence was skeptical of its efficiency as well.”

Harry shook his head. “They won’t let us linger south. It will be straight to Loch Laggan, at our earliest inconvenience. And then they’ll likely put my neck in a noose,” he snorted.

“Oh, but they can’t!” Remy argued. “You said yourself, Harry, that all these eggs may buy you pardon.”

“I’m afraid I was merely jesting, dearest,” Harry said, rubbing his neck.

Riley cleared his throat, adjusting his posture on a log in the small clearing they had stopped in. “I beg your pardon,” he said, frowning. “But why on earth would they hang you? I had wondered, with your talk of being a fugitive, and of privateering…”

“I’d forgot they’d mummed their dubber,” Harry sighed. He looked at Riley closely.

This was a man he had not known very well when they had come upon him half-drowned. Harry remembered that he was an opinionated man, an efficient captain, and once a close friend of Laurence. He judged Laurence’s taste in friends trustworthy, based on his own respect of the dear man, and said, “For treason, Riley.”

He told his story with a few adjustments, of course. Riley and Basson (who had stopped chewing dried meat and a spotted orange at the word 'treason’) listened intensely. When it was done, Remy shouted in their stunned faces.

“My Harry did the right thing!” he said. “And we stopped Laurence from going instead, which was very good. Very much the right thing to do!”

“Laurence?” Riley choked. “Treason? But what-”

“Ifin ya think it twas righ’, an England didn’ suffer for it, then youse still a hero, sir,” Basson said decidedly.

Harry nodded to him. “Thank you, Basson.”

“Wait,” Riley stopped them. “You brought the cure to France, saved the lives of their dragons including Lien, then killed half the covert and injured the dragon you cured?”

Harry thought about it for a moment. “That sounds about right,” he said.

“But that’s madness!” cried Riley. “Completely mad! I don’t say what you did was wrong…well, it was treason, one cannot dispute that, but why on earth did you do it if you meant to destroy the covert all along?”

“We didn’t mean to at first,” Remy said a bit weakly. “Only, we got there and realised we couldn’t go home after disobeying the government, and that De Guignes meant to have us imprisoned-”

“They weren’t hospitable at all, very rude,” Harry interjected, not even meaning to be funny.

“Or they would try to make us fight for them, but who wants to fight for France? And well, we figured we would be killed sooner or later, and we decided we would go out fighting. Right, Harry?”

“Right.”

Basson raised his eyebrows at Riley. “Mad he be, sir, but a hero juss the same.”

Riley gaped at them, but seemed to come to terms with this revelation. Harry thought that maybe he would ignore what was said in favour of keeping the stability of his own mind. He was well aware just how mental he sounded, ever since this dimension travelling business. Malfoy had claimed that happiness made him crazy, and Harry actually saw some truth in that.

In any case, their priorities were rendezvousing with Captain Laurence and ensuring the security of the eggs. Riley had gleaned important information from a distracted De Guignes and the shrewd Sapa Inca. The English party were for Rio De Janeiro, to meet the Tswana, who were attacking the Portuguese in their endless campaign to reacquire their family members. Harry had rolled his eyes at this, wondering if he’d ever be shot of enthusiastic radicals. But their friends would need help, and a ship would likely be in a port big enough to carry Remy, and they could send word to the Admiralty, who may or may not want to hang him-

“Oh, buggering hell!” Harry exclaimed, making Riley blush. “We forgot about the Horntail.”

His outburst was met by Remy’s disgruntled huff. “We can’t be running about willy-nilly all over South America to find him,” Remy said. “I hadn’t forgotten him. I say what’s done is done.”

Riley immediately protested, “We can’t just lose dragon eggs, their English capital…the value-”

“I beg your pardon, but they’re not England’s,” Remy corrected him. “They are ours. And not capital at all. Besides, I did the same thing when I hatched. I escaped from Napoleon.”

Harry blinked. “I had not thought of the parallels,” he said, casting a keen eye on Remy-the-escape-artist. “How curious.”

“I didn’t tell him to do it,” Remy denied, knowing that suspicious look his captain favoured. “Only he must have sensed his captain and we weren’t likely to take him to where his captain was. We’d have given him over to Riley or Basson for harnessing. Captain Riley needs his ship, and I mean no offense, Basson, but you’re for the sea and it would be a shame to displace you. The whole ruckus would have made dragonet extremely discomfited, as well.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Harry agreed, looking out at the sky on the off chance the dragonet was near. He sighed. “Well, five and twenty eggs for a pardon, then.”

“Juss so long as the others don 'atch too,” Basson pointed out philosophically. “Can’t say as we need any more bad luck.”

Riley, overruled and overwhelmed by all that had happened, gave his coxswain a sardonic look and knocked his fist on the log.

::::::::::::::

The next day, after negotiations with Lethabo were tentatively secured, Laurence stood with the other Captains observing the building of the houses for the Tswana. Hammond was as negative as usual, saying what they were all aware of; that if the Portuguese went back on their word to free the slaves, the Tswana would not remain peaceful. Paper contract, for dragons, meant very little, according to Hammond.

Talk of taking the French frigates at Rio had took up most of the morning, and a rough foundation of a plan was put forth. Yet, a commotion broke their tired meeting, and Laurence and his party recognised that it was coming from the clearing where their dragons and crew camped. They came upon Temeraire using low, careful tones with someone they could not see, and Iskierka near frothing at the mouth in indignation.

“You are a scrub! A common thief of a scrub!” Iskierka was howling. “And you are ugly!”

“Pray, do not tell him that, Iskierka!” Temeraire said, losing his patience. “Only, there are other captains for you. You cannot have one of my crew.”

Laurence moved forward to hail them, but was shocked silent at the scene. A dragonet, half the size of Temeraire, was curled around Emily Roland and hissing at Iskierka. He was covered from crown to tale with spikes, where it ended in a deadly sharp club Laurence never wanted to see the end of in a fight. Emily did not seem distressed, but was smiling widely and patting the dragonets brown and grey scales.

“This is my captain!” the young dragon said. “She is not part of your manky crew. And I’ll burn the red one if she comes any closer!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Iskierka screeched at him, absolutely irate. Granby came forth with the intention to calm her, but had to jump quickly to the side as a blast of hot fire shot toward them. “Oh, you!” Iskierka cried, shooting her own volley. “Leave Granby alone!”

Laurence went forward and said loudly, “That’s enough! Iskierka! Do you want Roland hurt? Stop that, this instant.”

“But Laurence, he called me horrible names! I only asked what he was doing and he said it was none of my business!” Iskierka cried in aggravation.

“Well, it wasn’t your business,” Temeraire put in. “Roland is one of my crew.”

The dragonet coiled tighter about Roland. “She’s my captain,” he hissed. “You have your own!”

“If you please, sir,” Emily said, slightly muffled by the dragon’s hold. “He is very hungry, and he will need to be harnessed.”

“Are you sure, Roland?” asked Laurence, looking at the dragonet cautiously. “However did this come about? Where is he from?”

“An egg,” the dragonet answered, with much dry sarcasm. This was immensely amusing to the captains, and Laurence could hear Berkley choking with laughter behind his back. “I had to find my captain! I am hungry, and I don’t want llama. Give me a cow.”

“Oh, you are a scrub,” Iskierka hissed.

Laurence chose to intervene, for it looked as though the dragonet would shoot fire again, and said, “Pray, do you know what breed you are?”

“I don’t have a name yet. May I have a cow? Emily will feed me, and name me. Emily, have you a name for me? Can I have one? But none of you are getting me a cow-”

“I will get you a cow, Spartacus,” Roland said, climbing out of the dragon’s hold. “Is Spartacus alright?”

“Apropos given the circumstances,” Granby muttered to Laurence, meaning to lighten the mood.

Roland went to fetch the newly dubbed Spartacus his cow, which turned into four cows in a matter of thirty minutes. Laurence decided to ignore the slaughter the dragon was making of it, and said, “Captain Roland,” he waited while her glowing smile widened. “Perhaps you can ask Spartacus where he flew away from, and beg him to answer seriously this time. And also…also may you explain the service to him if he is to have a captain?”

“I know all about it,” Spartacus told them, interrupting Emily’s relay. “We’re to fight the frogs and defend England from invasion. The other dragon told me all about it.”

“You’re English?” Granby asked, quite bewildered. “But…are you from Loch Laggan?”

“I have been flying for a week to find Emily. I hatched in some stupid clearing, where there were only llamas to eat. I don’t want llamas ever, Emily. And of course I’m English!” he said, as if all dragons were English and they were the fools for asking.

Laurence blinked. “You were hatched in South America? Pray, tell me if an officer was with you. Another English captain?”

“They were all English. Three men and a dragon. But I left them because I had to find Emily,” Spartacus revealed. “And they wanted to feed me llama!”

“There, there,” Emily said, patting him. “No llama for you.”

Spartacus nuzzled her. “I have a better captain than all of you,” he claimed. “Look how lovely she is? And we will have more prizes than the red one, you’ll see.”

The captains, now quite sure that the dragonet meant no harm to them, reconvened to talk over this new intelligence. Granby moved Iskierka away, but Temeraire chose to remain and sulk over the loss of Roland.

“You don’t suppose Jane is fragrant? She’ll need an heiress for Excidium,” Berkley said, and Laurence blushed with mortification. “No? Well, good on Emily. Good for her. Harry would be proud-”

“By God, Harry’s Remy did the same thing, didn’t he?” said Warren. “Suppose it’s common with some dragons?”

Laurence shook his head. “I do not think it is. In any case, we have a fire breather among our company now. An English one. But to be sure, I am more worried about who is following us.”

Someone was following them, that much was absolutely sure. It was comforting that it was obviously and English officer, but strange (very, strange) that the officer should be in South America with a dragon egg and only two men for a crew. “It might be a carrier,” Granby spoke up, having gone silent at the mention of Harry.

“It wouldn’t be the first time the Admiralty had orders for us that we don’t know about,” Chenery agreed. “But it is odd. Extremely odd. Why was the egg not bound for Sydney? Do they mean to take it back to England?”

There was little they could do about it, in any case. Gradually, the realisation of another fire breather in the corps lifted their spirits enough that the queer circumstances of its arrival could be ignored for the time being.

Spartacus was a trying thing, endlessly irritated with everyone but Emily, and yet his bad temper did not make the other captains like him less. He was constantly on about fighting 'the frogs’ and bringing glory to England, and how lovely Emily was that even Temeraire had to admit to Laurence, “He will be a good addition to our formation, though I wish he was a bit less prickly.”

Laurence coughed down a ridiculous laugh at Temeraire’s unintentional witticism and agreed wholeheartedly. Besides the new arrival, the captains were preoccupied with the taking of the French frigates, and put the subject of Spartacus aside for later. They meant to take the vessels while the dragons slept– a risky endeavor but almost foolproof. It would likely incite indignation among the ranks of dragons, but Laurence was willing to deal with it, just as he was willing to pull rank with Captain Galloway in order to acquire more men for the mission.

And it did indeed have them disgruntled. Iskierka woke them to her howls of their captains taking the ships without them, and they were aloft. The four French frigates were under steady attack, a wash of men as black as ants in the dark of the night were fighting pell-mell on the decks. Temeraire roared, dropping down upon the ship where Laurence was battling and began to pick off the French sailors as they hung about the ratlines.

Temeraire went aloft again, when he was sure Dulcia would watch over Laurence, and called for Iskierka. They may have enough men, enough dragons to take them for a prize, but it would be close, and they needed- but Temeraire could not speculate anymore, for he was jostled in the air as a cannon ball whizzed past his wing. He knew the men were running toward the guns, to stop them firing upon the dragons, but he was not sure if they would be quick enough, and Maximus was beside him, catching one with a hiss of pain.

A loud tearing sound broke over the ruckus of the battle. The ship was raked, Temeraire saw, the offending guns fallen into the sea with their men attached. And there went another, with that awful wrench, and Maximus was going down with Berkley to take one ship. Another. The ceaseless pounding of the guns stopped; a rousing cheer from their men rising into the air from the captured frigates. And Temeraire made for Laurence on the Polonaise but stopped in the air with surprise.

“Remy?” he said, before shouting, “Remy!”

It was Remy, with no crew and nearly invisible in the night but for the blue and green moonlit streaks on his wings. Temeraire thought he should have known. Raking ships was Remy’s signature maneuver; always effective and always reckless as it was. Remy came alongside Temeraire and circled him, “Oh, it is so good to see you!” Remy said. “I missed you, Temeraire! I missed you so much!”

“But they said you were dead-!” Temeraire could not help but sputter, just as Iskierka came up to see what kept him. She gasped. “Remy! You’re alive!”

“I certainly hope we are,” came a voice from Remy’s neck, “And it seems you’ve found our missing dragonet.”

“Harry! Oh, Harry, I can’t believe it!” Temeraire laughed, catching sight of Remy’s captain there. And he was so overjoyed! Temeraire hadn’t felt happiness like this in so long, it seemed.

Iskierka gave a strangled noise and suddenly left, but Temeraire did not think much of her rude leave-taking and said, “Wherever have you been?”

“It’s a long, rather fantastic story,” Remy answered. “Only, we have to go check on the eggs. We’ve left them at your camp. But tell me how many prizes Iskierka has got? We’ve decided to match it and then some.”

“Not so many,” Temeraire grinned, and then started. “Eggs?” he asked, but Remy was already wheeling away with a whoop of farewell.

::::::::::::

Granby wasn’t aware of their flight, short as it was. Iskierka’s quick speech to him was near incomprehensible as well, but Granby understood. By God, Granby understood. And they were landing at camp once Temeraire had told them where they had gone, after unreasonable panic had taken Granby’s breath away when he did not see them. They came aground ungracefully, with Granby dragging his feet on the grass while Iskierka still moved. And there was Harry. There he was.

He had the man in his arms. He had Harry with him, breathing against his shoulder, his heart beating in Granby’s ribs. Harry was whispering that he was alive, that he was sorry for being away, that he loved Bee. Bee, Bee, Bee. He pulled away from the man and stared down into those green eyes.

“Hi, Bee,” Harry said to him. Harry spoke. “Your poor arm.”

But none of that mattered. Nothing mattered but that Harry was alive. And in front of a giggling Emily and a man he did not know, Granby kissed him deeply.

“Never woulda thought ita the captain, bein of the taste,” Basson said, raising his eyebrows at the two men.

“Hush up, Basson,” Remy said brightly, his gaze soft. “They’re madly in love.”

::::::::::::

“Well now, what have you to say for yourself?”

Granby would have liked to say the same to Harry, but he was simply too happy to be accusatory. Harry had promised, once they’d stopped grasping each other for dear life, that he would tell Bee everything. Bee. Granby’s face was aglow with joy at hearing that teasing nickname once more.

Berkley, Laurence, Harcourt and Warren landed just as the dragonet (who Harry was addressing) answered, “I didn’t want to stay with you. I had to find my captain!”

“To the devil with you,” Harry cursed him childishly. “But congratulations, Captain Roland, good luck dealing with that brute.”

Spartacus hissed at him.

“Harry?” Berkley said, coming toward them. “Harry, you old lunatic!”

He grabbed up Harry in a hug, both of them laughing and pounding each other’s backs. Laurence went forward to shake his hand, his face alight with joyful surprise, and Harry hugged him too. Catherine was crying.

“Now, don’t cry,” Harry said to her, holding her for a moment. “Your Riley is somewhere around here. Why, there he is.”

Riley, having gone to bathe once they had landed, was standing before them without a shirt on when Catherine yelled, “Tom! Tom!” and sprung into his arms. His pleasantly surprised face made Granby laugh.

“Mad old Harry,” Berkley said, shaking his head. “Where in the damned hell have you been?”

:::::::::::

“There’s things you should know about the company you keep,” Riley said to the captains around the fire, Harry and Granby beside him and sitting very close together. “He toasted England at Napoleon’s table, threw his wine glass at De Guignes’ head and ran out of the room. I’ve never been more shocked in my life,” he said over the uproarious laughter. “He’s insane.”

Harry huffed. “De Guignes deserved it. And Boney was going on and on about some philosophical rot, like I was his best mate, and De Guignes had this look on his face like he would kill me. I can’t be blamed for losing my temper.”

“There was no wrath,” Riley countered promptly. “He was quite unaffected. I think he just did it because he was bored.”

“If I had to hear one more word about the exceptional brilliance of France and about that disgusting plate of mullet the Inca gave us, there would have been wrath, Riley.”

“He’s completely mad,” Riley told them. “So there you are. I thought you ought to know.”

Berkley, the loudest of all in their crying amusement, slapped his thigh and said, “We’ve known it! And we missed the nutter, missed him something awful.”

“Consider all the battles we’ve missed, unsuccessfully privateering,” Harry sighed. “We’re to be pitied, Remy and I. Pitied.”

Laurence grinned at Harry from across the fire. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “But I don’t pity you at all. The Admiralty will knight you for those dragon eggs.”

“Sir Harry!” Berkley toasted him with his grog, his fellows following suit. Their laughter carried on into the night.

::::::::::::

“China!” Harry said, whistling in appreciation of a new adventure. He was wrapped up in Granby’s good arm, sailing on the Potentate now headed for Asia. The morning of their departure, the Cassius had taken Chenery, Warren and Little to England with the dragon eggs, the only solution available now that their plans had changed course. “I think it’s marvelous,” Harry went on. “It’ll get me out of a court martial, in any case.”

“Or reimbursement from the crown for bringing them so valuable a present,” Granby countered, kissing his head. “You could have gone with them,” he said, quieter.

“I’ve just spent two years in my original dimension picking up the pieces of their shenanigans, training an Aerial Corps and saving the bloody world,” Harry said. “If I want to be with my Bee, God grant me it and send dissenters straight to hell.”

The reference to Harry’s extraordinary journey made Granby smile into the darkness of their cabin, for he had been gifted with Harry’s absolute trust by knowing. The others, none so close to Harry, had got a measly explanation of escape and wallowing about in the Pacific. But his pride that he now knew the truth was soon edged with remorse.

“I took up with Little, when I thought you were dead. It meant nothing, I beg you to believe me,” Granby pled, his voice a desperate whisper. “It meant nothing.”

Harry was silent for a minute. “Charlie kissed me,” he confessed. “It meant nothing.”

Granby looked down at him. “A kiss, well, who could blame him? But Little is for Chenery, anyway, and Little wanted– he wanted to comfort me. I’d been…poorly, Harry, after they said you were dead. I was, well, in a bad way.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured, his tone tinged with sorrow. He laid his head back on Granby’s chest and said, “I will thank Little, when I next see him. I am returned to find you whole and happy. Due to him, no doubt.”

Granby’s relief made him laugh and raise his stump of an arm. “Not quite,” he said.

“Oh, Bee, you could have no limbs whatsoever and I would still love you,” Harry told him. “I cannot help it. I’m mad for you.”

They both chuckled quietly. “And I for you, Harry,” Granby said, running his hands through the soft mess of Harry’s hair.

Dawn found them curled in a peaceful, dreamless slumber. The sea broke apart in their wake, arrowing toward a new place of intrigue and adventure. Yet still they slept until morning-come, secure in the closeness of friends and lovers. Aboard the dragon deck, Remy and Iskierka dreamed of prizes, and Temeraire and Laurence of their returned companions. And theirs was a quiet peace, for however long it lasted.

—

Finis.

#Hp fic #crossover #temeraire fic #hp3d

[twinflameshardcore]

Post eclipse sensations - happiness and fullness

I loved this solar eclipse in my zodiac Pisces - the energy in the aether was amazing before and after 02/26. It has felt so balanced, good, blissful, light in the body, love in the air. Gaia has been rising its vibration and the Universe has been pushing its own from above so the entire amalgam feels incredibly delightful.

The same day I also participated in a group (remote) meditation for the first time in my life to release Africa from harmful masculine energy and victimized energy of females. I set a little bonfire, imagined that the (violet) flames of passion and love burn over the continent and that they make men and women come together again - that men understand and respect women’s love & surrendering as women give love naturally so men could learn how to open themselves and love the same way too. Love is everything humans need. Men cannot do without women, and vice versa (unless they’re both gay). Both parties will come asking for love in the end. I’m a fiery being, a fiery dragon and angel so I heal with, and through fire/passion. It’s a self-balanced passion without jealousy which can heal every relationship and this is what I commanded the fire to bring to Africa. Other people were meditating using the violet flame and pink light of the goddess but I’m not good in an idle meditation as most of Draconians & Reptilians (too reactive to the environmental distractions), so I just used something physical to focus on, outdoor ;) It looks like the meditation was a big success when a few thousands of people meditated at the same time and the vibration increased on Earth, thanks to humans this time; results are yet to come.

I’ve also felt very spiritually ‘full’ in the body, as if my spirit added more of itself to the human body and I’m more present here on Earth than in other dimensions. Or my bottom chakras healed/balanced or upper chakras made some important connections with lower ones, whatever the case, it feels very very pleasant, as if I matured! I’d explain it that my angelic/higher self’s essence (which has been existing somewhere up there, guiding and preventing from taking stupid actions) has ‘settled down’ in my human body-host better so now ‘the advanced I’ can live as an angel in the detoxified human body on Earth. This means we’re not going to the stars but we’re actually returning from the stars down to Earth, to healed Gaia, and our bodies are opening to permanently host our angelic selves, while the old human-related essence has been leaving us for good.

I’ve been experiencing 4D timelines, atmosphere and energy merging with 3D & 5D all together which results in dreaming awake. I’m visited in dreams by my deceased now soul mate who was never a spiritual person but seems to know what’s going on now with the Ascension. I was completely in love with him in a college, but he never chose me for his gf, we were too immature and shy to complete this ‘relationship’ so it stayed unfinished. Then he died in a car crash when he was 21 and he’s been visiting me in dreams on a few occasions since then. But only lately these dreams have become very conscious, his actions are as if deliberate, we express feelings for each other to feel liberated from that stuck love. I feel him excited and happy that he can feel me so directly and strongly once we’re going through the 4D zone. In dreams, he calls me by my back then nickname, asks me how I am. I can feel his energy assisting me during some days too, when I’m awake, to the point that I cut my finger twice when I felt him as if sitting inside of me, just like I feel my TF! It never happened before. I also realize that he can literately see me from where he is and it’s only that thin veil between dimensions which disallows us to see each other. But it’s OK, he’s not for me anyway ;) I often wonder how he would react if he was alive and saw me during a class-mates meeting after all those years, since I’ve changed for better, also visually. Back then I was almost invisible, I disliked myself for how 'unformed’ and ‘different’ I was, while other class mates were fully present, enjoying themselves. Overall, it’s like the entire atmosphere as experienced in my most common dreams is accessible now when I’m awake and some old dreams which I had 10 or 20 years ago then forgot, they pop up out of the blue.

I also come across synchronicities such as giants, cyclops, Minotaur, Merlin, djinns, and numbers such as, again, 11:11, 54, 55, 17, 22, 000 and 999.

My twin’s absent again, but I don’t blame him as he must figure out what he wants to do with his life next, he needs to say yest to a big desired change so he could feel personally happy, professionally wanted and overall to build himself a new future based on realistic ideas only. A new spark in everything. I’ve discovered my past and worked on my issues, but he was too busy with his job (or lack of) and survival to let the Universe touch his heart. Now he has time, he’s in a safer place, and I believe the Universe will be triggering him so he could discover and learn about himself better.

The Sun has been producing what seems an incredibly colorful light, full of blue, yellow/gold and red strips lately. I captured it several times in pictures taken near the eclipse days - it holds a very happy energy; if you open and grab it with your heart, you will feel it.

Yesterday, 03/01 I felt totally happy, 100% internally pleased for no apparent reason, as usually. My chakras felt aligned, healed and happy, filling up the body with a sensation of stability, grounding, yet passion and independence. All that emotional neediness towards my twin seems to fade away and I finally act ‘on my behalf’, planning, trying various things, opportunities, still digging into my soul & heart about my life purpose here etc. Obviously, the main purpose means living & doing things with the twin sometime next, but until we get there, there must be a new side-quest to do which I’ll enjoy doing alone :) In fact these new sensations felt in the body may be linked to the twin since we keep merging, so while I embody his attributes (said independence of doing things on one’s own without sharing, or looking for any acceptance, plus creative ideas) then he embodies what’s been mine so far :) It all calls me to BE, RADIATE AND FEEL with my heart that what is pouring from outside. The brain has no job right now, it must surrender to the heart so it can feel, feel, feel and feed the entire body with that amazing energy!

I noticed it a long time ago that there’s an axis of love-work between us - when he works a lot, my love gets stronger and I need him more. On the other hand, when I have more things to do, I feel his energy stronger, a sensation that my passion and activity fills him with pleasure and excitement thus he’s energetically attracted to me more. So after the solar eclipse on 02/26, for the first time in many years I felt ‘full’ and happy, as if some cycle of my life has been completed and there will be no return to it. Of course I never know what the hell it’s exactly about but I believe my soul handles all that stuff so I just let it happen. I believe I’ll learn more around the mid-March or in late April. I was hanging in the garden last night looking at Orion, Sirius, Big Dipper, Pleiadies, Arcturus and Aldebaran. Orion, a place of many galactic battles feels healed now and radiates a happy energy too. I sent my love to Alnilam star (the middle one in the Orion’s belt). Looking at the constellation’s shape almost brought a new re-memory of something, like a sign, a rune I could know a meaning of but again, my human memory couldn’t help me with it, yet. Blockage!

I’ve felt a big acceleration today 03/02 but it may be also due to a huge geomagnetic storm (the solar wind is blowing like 750km/sec now!) The energy is that of rushing, impatience, acting without hesitation: “I want it, and I want it NOW”, “Let’s DO it (and if you’re not ready, stay where you are and I’ll do it myself”, and similar themes. This is a perfect astro-weather for the ego to rage but if you’ve done your ego training like I did in previous years, you will be just productive, creative, uplifted, inspired, and active without having the ego triggered by any negative energies.

Venus is retrograding in Aries (March 4 until April 15, ends in Pisces again) which is also partly my zodiac (I’m on the cusp) and I always feel anything Aries much stronger than Pisces. Current energy as it feels is that of having an urge for excitement, for the newer and simplified, for taking charge of own (or somebody else’s, like an elder family member’s) things, for leading the way, carving a new path boldly and courageously without looking at too many details or blockages. It’s the physical energy calling out to ‘jump over’ the collective, leave them to their own devices and to focus on doing things which only interest own self, the spirit, the heart! If you’re driven by this sharp and get-things-done energy and have things to do, you’ll do them immediately instead of prolonging decisions for weeks. There’s no place for boredom now. I even thought it was a sexual energy because the Earth is also waking up (spring time) strongly in the northern hemisphere where I live, but it’s not sexual. It’s calling out for taking action physically but I verified its purpose by imagining a situation that my twin was with me in the physical and we were to make love driven by this high vibration. Then honestly it felt as if we would probably stop moving after 5 minutes realizing that we wanted to do something else, not with our bodies but with that energy :) Thus, it’s not sexual. It has qualities of turning on the solar plexus and sacral chakras but only for self-love and unconditional love for the other half, to make us feel good inside our bodies, happy in our environment, prompting us to make desired changes in own lives when we finally don’t worry, doubt or fear at the time being. It’s the energy of creation, of making things, materializing, ending stagnant issues which the heart no more resonates with, and jumping over problems leaving them behind as non-existing since they were illusions. This vital energy can be mistaken though, so you may be mislead to quit with the TF and enter another relationship, or to cheat, because people seem to be very attractive now when they felt lighter, happier, more liberated, wanting a big change. Gaia is almost liberated from the old, tired, repetitive energy, the love energy of goddess is also here, and every plant, animal and human can feel it, so we transmute and radiate around. I can already imagine how it’s going to feel when plants will start making leaves and they will be releasing love energy (that delivered by Gaia to their roots and other parts) outside around April and May! We’ll feel as if we’re doped! :) So if you’ve with the twin flame, then you know whom you belong to and keep it like that. This is time when the end meets the beginning, an old victim suffered/experienced enough and is forgiven then resurrected, Phoenix rises from ashes, the last and ignored becomes the first and most wanted, just like when an ouroborous eats/learns about itself completely - it is ready to be shifted on another level of self-mastery to start growing until it can eat his tail again. Unless there’s no more growing or repeating cycles and the humanity is entering one permanent cycle :)

Until next time.

This post is copyrighted by the author of this blog who prefers to remain anonymous. My posts must not be used for commercial purposes of any kind. Respect my work - ask first before you copy, always include a link back to my site when you quote a part of my writing!

#the new cycle #venus retrograde aries #4th dimension #energy update #march energy

[badmonblog]

Big boys & Mini figures

Have you ever heard of Warhammer game? If you haven’t, this is your chance to have a glimpse into it and a store where Warhammer products are sold. During my short time in Halle Saale (Germany), I crossed by a game shop a lot and gained curiosity about it after I saw this sign at the window display:

Being interested in the background story of this store, we decided to set up a short interview with the Store Manager – Sascha Porsch (“Unfortunately I’m not an heir of Porsche :P”, he jokingly said). This 26-year-old guy comes from Halberstadt, Germany and has been the manager of Games Workshop store in Halle (Saale) for 1,5 years.  After having broken the ice a little bit between us, I got down to “interrogate” (just kidding!) him about his job and this vibrant store.

Sascha Porsch(e)

Q: You told me that you studied sociology in the university. How come did you get a chance of becoming a store manager at Games Workshop? And is your study beneficial to your current job?

A: After my graduation, I had to decide whether I want to have a “normal job” like public services or a job of my specific interest, and I chose the latter. Games Workshop always search for new store managers so I applied to them and succeeded. After 2 trial weeks in Leipzig, this store in Halle was ready for me. I have been playing Warhammer by myself for 7 years now, so being able to make my hobby into my profession is great.

And yes, my study is a help for my work now. My study was about how society, groups, cultures work, so I have a glimpse of how people behave in specific situations. It makes it a little bit easier to put impact on their behaviors by manipulation. Though it doesn’t sound so nice, but it is what it is. But most of time I just observe and analyze the situations.

(During our interview, a lot of customers dropped in the store and Sascha still did a good job of greeting them and giving all the help they need. One customer even joined our interview with a warm hug to Sascha: “We love him!”.)

Q: How did you get into this hobby with Warhammer? Did you read novels or just accidentally know about it?

A: My first contact with Warhammer 40,000 was by playing Dawn of War game  and after that I got my hands on some novels and also research on the Internet. In Dresden, I entered a Games Workshop store for the 1st time and got a chance to talk with an amazing store manager. I was like “Yeah, I wanna do that!” and at the same day, I bought my first box of Chaos army. Right now I have 4 armies, mostly Chaos. The world is evil, and it is not like what the good guys say!

(Long story short, Games Workshop is a British miniature wargaming manufacturing company. They produce loads of fantasy tiny and super detailed figures in the tabletop wargames: Warhammer Age of Sigmar, Warhammer 40,000 and The Lord of the Rings Strategy Battle Game. In Warhammer universe, the Imperium of Man rules most of worlds across the galaxy and they continously fight against a number of forces including the forces of Chaos – which is Sascha’s favourite.)

Chaos miniature  force in Warhammer: Age of Sigmar

Q: How long has Warhammer been existing?

A: Warhammer 40k has been around for appx. 30 years, and Age of Sigmar has been around for half a year. Before that, the Warhammer Fantasy is the oldest one with 40 years since the 1st publishing.

Unboxed figures

Q: In the past, the miniatures were made of metal. However now the ingredient is plastic. What was the reason for this change? Is the plastic recyclable?

A: Well it is obviously cheaper. In the past, the details were better with metal material, but now far more details can be made with plastic thanks to the advanced technology. Also, it is not as heavy as the metal miniature. Furthermore, since the miniature is plastic and if it gets broken, you can always glue it together easily.

The plastic models are totally recyclable, however just unpainted ones. If you want your miniatures to be recycled, try to remove the paint by yourself and then bring them to the nearest Games Workshop.

One of the Warhammer boards at the store

Q: It has always been fascinating for me to watch you guys – really big men with big fingers – paint the miniatures. I think it must have been a risky decision when the Games Workshop company was founded based on wargaming miniatures because usually people relate men to something “manly”, “big”, but not the miniatures and painting.

A: It is a hobby, like any other hobbies like stamp collecting, building mini cities or fixing your own car. It is a pleasure when the miniature looks good. Sort of an achievement when you can paint a natural looking-like eye and “Yeah, look, I did it!”.

The whole wall full of laquer paint boxes

Q: But you need to have skills and talent to paint, right?

A: Actually no. It is a process of learning and practicing. Of course if you are gifted, it is easier. But gradually you can become really really good if you are really into it. Besides painting miniature, you can even create the figures by yourself, no matter how big you want them to be, with the materials that can be found in any Games Workshop store.

Some unpainted figures waiting for their colorful coating.

Q: Do you think there will be new trends in tabletop wargames?

A: I think in the future everyone will have his own 3D printer. The quality of this printer becomes better every year, so that will be an opportunity and also an obstacle to Games Workshop.

One game in action

Q: Do players here (in the store) have to pay for membership fee or they just come here with their armies? Every time I cross by the store, I have feeling like a home inside here.

A: No, they don’t have to pay any fee. You immediately become a part of this community when you come in and say: “Hi! I paint/I play the game!”.

Q: Well now a side question. I can see that all players here are male. Have you ever known any female player?

A: I meet more girls who paint than those who play. There are several people who just enjoy painting the miniatures. I wish there were more female players, because I think they could become so good at the game!

Q: It’s going to be a long run, but I do hope so too. Another side questions: is your life or personal interest affected by your current job? Is it sometimes too much because it is your work now?

A: Yes. Since I started working for Games Workshop, I don’t usually do as much hobby as before, because it is now my job to talk about it, paint models, and show new products. But I’m still very interested in it and I even have a closer look into the game, which is a good thing. I play the game less but more intense. Before any game I am like: “Wooo yeah, I can play a game now!!”.

We ended the interview with a photo of him and several photos around the shop. Then, some little boys entered the shop to buy some brushes. Sascha was pleased to share that he likes this hobby and this job, because the kids, instead of doing stupid things, they come here and have socialization with mostly academic people here, have a nice painting hobby. The adults too, instead of watching TV, come to the store and join the community with their hobby.

[meralee727]

Dumb characters are a television staple. Characters who just don’t always seem to have it together, whom you wonder how they manage to live, survive and basically not die. Characters that despite their intellectual deficiencies, we root for them to maybe figure out or not.

Back in 1983, Dr. Howard Gardner discovered that there were eight levels or eight different types of intelligence. Later, existential intelligence and moral intelligence were added and will be added to this blog to determine the ultimate truth behind two of my favorite television dumb guys–the characters, not the actors who play them ’cause I don’t know the actors who play them and that would just be mean even though I’m sure they’re lovely individuals.

Now, given my Bachelor of Arts in Media Studies and my Masters in both Marriage and Family Counseling and Elementary Education, I am basically an expert in my own head.

So who is smarter?

Subjects:

Joey Tribbiani

Place of birth: Queens, New York

Age: 48

*While Friends ended in 2004, I am giving him the age he would likely be now, as It’s Always Sunny is still going and it’s just easier for me. 

Occupation:  Actor most notably for playing Dr. Drake Ramoray on Days of Our Lives

Vices: Food

Brief Background:

Joey Tribbiani is an Italian American, Caucasian male who grew up in a large family where he was the oldest and the only son. He has seven younger sisters whom he is close to and is very protective of. He has a close relationship with both his mom and dad. There has been no notable childhood trauma although when he was twenty-five years old, he discovered that his father was having an affair with a pet stuffer. His parents still remain happily married with his mom deciding the affair would simply be looked at as a hobby.

Charlie Kelly

Place of birth: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Age: 42

Occupation: Janitor at a bar in Philadelphia called Paddy’s Pub

Vices: Drinking, eating cat food, huffing inhalants, drinking paint, eating chalk, stalking, sniffing glue

Brief Background:

Charlie Kelly is a Caucasian male who was raised by a single mother in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Not much is known about his father though it is assumed that his biological father might be Frank Reynolds, a man whom he is currently sharing an apartment as well as a bed with. Charlie discovered at the age of thirty that he was the survivor of an abortion his mother had soon after she had a sexual relationship with Frank Reynolds. His mother often supported herself and her son through prostitution. One of Charlie’s most vivid childhood memories is of Christmas Day, opening the door to a series of men dressed as Santa who would “visit” with his mom. Despite this, there is some severe denial on Charlie’s part as to what was happening. There is also some suggestion that Charlie may have been the victim of sexual assault as a child at the hands of his Uncle Jack.

 Gardner’s Levels of Intelligence

Spatial Intelligence: Visualizing yourself in a 3D world, excels in figuring out puzzles and maps. Does well when presented with a construction project.

Joey: He does have some background in construction and did build an entertainment unit for his apartment, though he incorrectly measured the size of the unit which ended up being too big for the wall it was placed on. He is not skilled with puzzles and doesn’t quite understand maps. During a trip to London, he needed to lay his map down on the ground and step into it in order to find his way around.

Charlie: He is not clear on what 3D means, once wearing a pair of 3D glasses outside and wondering why they didn’t work. With assistance from his friend, Mac, he was able to successfully glue the pieces of a broken beer bottle back together and drink beer out of it which was required during a game of Chardee MacDennis, a game created with his friends and coworkers at Paddy’s. He is also not strong with reading maps, during a trip to the water park, he struggled to understand North, East, South and West and relied on Frank to show him where he needed to go.

Winner: While it is impressive that Charlie was able to successfully put together a broken beer bottle, Joey takes the point here. Despite being the wrong size, he did build an entire entertainment unit without assistance and was able to retile the bathroom floor in the apartment of his neighbors–Monica and Rachel. Joey’s construction background gives him the edge here.

Intrapersonal Intelligence: Understanding your needs, wants and desires. Understanding yourself.

Joey: His strengths, although not always successful, are in acting. While at times, he has been plagued with self doubt about his talents as an actor, he seems to come back to it. He seems to understand where his strengths lie and has a strong desire and motivation to make it as an actor, going so far as to beg for his job back at Days of Our Lives after he had embarrassed himself with the producers. He knows what he is good at and tends to go after those things. He did try to move into his own apartment in order to get in touch with his thoughts only to realize he didn’t have a lot of thoughts.

Charlie: He is a simple man who is happy with who he is. He has no desire to move up in life and is content to remain a janitor at a bar and continue living in squalor in Section 8 housing. He doesn’t have the drive or motivation to better himself because he understands who he is and likes who he is. That being said, there is not a lot of self reflection and there is a sense of delusion to some of his activities such as believing he is a lawyer who specializes in bird law without ever having attended law school.

Winner: Joey. Charlie’s needs and wants are more primitive and while he is content with who he is, there is a lack of self awareness and a lack of an inner thought process which often causes chaos in his life. He acts first, thinks later. Joey does seem to have a more advanced view of himself and while his inner thought process may not be deep, his desire to move forward or at least try gives him this point.

Linguistic Intelligence: The ability to understand spoken and written language as well as the ability to speak and write.

Joey: He is an actor so his ability to understand the words on a page is a strength. He has also shown an understanding of poetry, being able to decipher the meaning behind a poem a man had written about his friend, Monica. While he may not always enjoy writing or reading, he is able to do so. With encouragement from his friend, Ross, he did try to write a play although got bored doing it and instead wrote quick stories for his friends to act out. His favorite things to read are comic books, the backs of cereal boxes and pornographic magazines.

Charlie: He is unable to read or write and his friends have often stated that he has a learning disability, though he has not officially been diagnosed. During a group intervention at their bar where they staged several interventions for various reasons, they had suggested one of the interventions be about Charlie’s illiteracy. At one point, Charlie accidentally offered the bar up as a prize in a dance marathon after misreading “pride” as “prize”.  He is a song writer but instead of using lyrics, uses pictures instead. His writings are a serious of random words that are strung together in incoherent sentences. He also has difficulty pronouncing words with more than two syllables. When his friend, Dee, asked to take him to a spa, he thought she was asking him for a spaghetti day. There is also some suggestion that one of the reasons he struggled with working in a mailroom which he had done for a brief period was because he read Pennsylvania as Pepe Sylvia. He also seems to be in denial about the severity of his illiteracy problem, often blaming his friends or brushing it aside.

Winner: Joey. Joey may just be lazy when it comes to motivation in this area but Charlie’s illiteracy as well as his denial about said illiteracy gives Joey the edge here. Also, Charlie needs to be enrolled in some sort of Special Education reading program for adults but his lack of awareness regarding this problem may prevent him from doing this.

Bodily Kinesthetic Intelligence: the ability to use your body to convey feelings and ideas. They have good hand eye coordination and their gross and fine motor skills are above average as well.

Joey: He once broke his arm jumping on his bed. He is average at playing flag football and does seem to possess an average level of athletic ability.

Charlie: He jumped out of the back of a moving van without injury. He also took a shot at a Phillies Hockey game and while he missed the shot, he still showed skill as an ice hockey player and taught Mac how to skate. He also jump kicked Mac out of the way of a falling piano. He is a skilled baseball player.  After drinking seventy one beers on a cross country flight from Philadelphia to Los Angeles, he was able to hit a baseball out of the park on the first try. Of course, he did have some trouble walking straight but his abilities to hit the ball were above average.

Winner: Charlie. While both men seem to have average athletic abilities, Charlie’s ability to knock a ball out of the park after seventy one beers gives him the edge here.

**Disclaimer: It is not advisable to drink seventy one beers in one sitting because it is stupid and you will die.

Interpersonal Intelligence: The ability to understand others and make meaningful connections with others.

Joey: He has close, dependent friendships with five people in particular: Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Ross and Chandler. While not often discussed, he does seem to be able to maintain friendships with others outside his core group. He often hosts a party for the people he works with on Days of Our Lives and moved to Los Angeles in 2004 by himself and fostered a new set of friendships. He is protective of his sisters and his friends. He genuinely cares about their feelings and supports them when he can.

Charlie: He is also part of a very close knit group. He is incredibly close with his co workers at Paddy’s: Dee, Dennis and Mac. He also shares a bed with Frank Reynolds and at one point, married him so he could get on Frank’s health insurance. They have since divorced. He saved Mac’s life once when he jump kicked him out of the way of a falling piano and enjoys smoking breaks with Dee. While it’s not always obvious, he does care about those friends in particular. This unfortunately has not extended to outside the group. Ignoring all restraining orders, he continues to stalk a woman known only as the Waitress. People who seem to come into contact with him and his group often end up with their lives completely destroyed.

Winner: Joey. While both men are part of two very codependent, fused groups, Charlie’s group is far more toxic. Joey seems far more capable of making meaningful connections with others both in and out of his group.

Existential Intelligence: People who are able to see the big picture and use intuition to understand that world around them. They seek meaningful learning experiences in understanding the world.

Joey: While he prefers to live in the now and doesn’t seem interested in deeper learning, it does seem that he does have the ability to think beyond himself. He does believe in ghosts and has a fear of little girl ghosts. When his agent passed away in 2004, he did believe that she was calling him from beyond–this was later revealed that his friend, Phoebe, was calling him pretending to be the agent to spare his feelings.

Charlie: He is a man with very primitive and basic needs and does not seem capable of meaningful learning. He does not concern himself with questions of life and death. He does not look at the big picture and how it relates to the world, but focuses on immediate gratification.

Winner: Joey. While neither man is that deep, Joey’s thinking is a bit more advanced than Charlie’s which gives him the edge.

Logical/Mathematical Intelligence: Skilled at deductive reasoning, detecting patterns and logical thinking. They excel at abstract and complex ideas.

Joey: Math is not a strong suit as he is often in dire financial straits, relying on his friends to bail him out. His thinking is not always based on logic and is not always linear. He struggles with basic arithmetic and confused his phone number for the amount due on his phone bill.

Charlie: He struggles as well with logical and linear thinking. He does not understand complex or abstract ideas but when presented with a scheme or a scam, without being told, he can understand the steps of the scam as when his friends were trying to run a contaminated chicken scam on a day of a surprise health inspection.

Winner: While this could end up in a draw as neither one excel in logical thinking, Charlie takes the win by a rat’s hair. When his friends doubted whether or not he had an understanding of the scam they were playing on the day of the health inspection, he got it immediately and was also able to help the gang pull off the scam while at the same time figuring out the steps needed to pass the inspection.

Musical Intelligence: The ability to understand pitch, tone and an enjoyment for making and playing music.

Joey: He does have ballroom dancing skills as he worked with his superintendent Mr. Treeger to teach him how to dance but does not show a skill for more complicated dance moves. When he got a drum set once, he seemed more interested in banging on them and throwing the sticks up in the air more than actually playing. He does not seem to posses a natural singing ability.

Charlie: He seems to be a prodigy in this area, having written a musical called The Nighman Cometh which his friends performed. He also wrote and performed  several songs for a bar industry night when important bar people stopped by Paddy’s to see if the gang had finally done enough to make them eligible for an award. He also wrote and performed a song at Frank’s Little Beauties kids beauty pageant.

Winner: Charlie. His skills to create catchy music and to be able to pick up an instrument and start playing put him far above Joey in this category.  Charlie is incredibly gifted in this area and seems to be self taught.

Naturalist Intelligence: The ability to understand the patterns of living things, understands animals and plants.

*it is important to note that this skill also comes with the ability to record and chart scientific data when it comes to plants and animals but we are just going to ignore that because I would like to.

Joey: He loves animals but doesn’t quite understand them. He believes that animals eventually go to a farm, showing a lack of understanding when it comes to the life cycle of plants and animals.

Charlie: He is a janitor who lists “rat basher” as part of his job description where he also has a special bat with nails as his rat bashing stick. He also created a line of mittens to put on kittens and through a speciality of law he invented, he seems to have an understanding of birds.

Winner: The whole scientific data part aside, it might be Charlie. He seems to feel an intense sadness when he has to kill rats, a feeling of remorse he surprisingly does not have when he interacts with other people outside of his core group.

Moral Intelligence: Ability to understand right from wrong, understanding of values

Ummmmm……

Well, this is awkward.

Joey: When he began a relationship with the ex of a best friend, he told his friend he would not pursue the relationship with her if the friend did not approve. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, cares deeply about his friends and family and expects the same honesty and loyalty from them.

Charlie: At this time, Charlie has committed the following: stalking, harassment, violation of several restraining orders brought on him by the Waitress, breaking and entering, public intoxication, illegal drug use, assault and battery, eating Santa Claus, grand theft, shop lifting, faking his own death, selling drugs, destruction of property, kidnapping and torture, fraud, false reporting, etc, etc….

Winner: Joey…..no explanation necessary

Final Score:

Joey: 6

Charlie: 4

Final result: While neither man would ace an IQ test, this very scientific and quite honestly pointless blog will put to rest the question absolutely no one asked.

Joey Tribbiani is more intelligent BUT Charlie Kelly does make some lovely music.

                            Using Gardner’s Levels of Intelligence to discover who is smarter: Charlie Kelly VS. Joey Tribbiani Dumb characters are a television staple. Characters who just don't always seem to have it together, whom you wonder how they manage to live, survive and basically not die.

[sixshooter664]

Panic Attack

“Well, Good morning, Olivia. Sleep well?” Tony laughed teasingly as I entered the communal kitchen of Avengers Tower. I rolled my blue eyes, ignoring him as I headed for the coffee pot on the far counter. “Ohhh, details.” Clint chimed in, from his spot on the island barstool beside my best friend, Nat. “Yeah, Liv. We wanna know.” The red haired assassin prodded, taking a sip from her glass of orange juice innocently.

I shot her a death glare that was involuntarily replaced by a playful grin. “I slept fine, thank you.” I replied pointedly, referring to last night’s group gathering for a movie. I’d fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Cuddled into my best friend/crush—Bucky’s—chest. “Ye-ah, you did.” Tony singsonged, waggling an eyebrow at me suggestively as I poured cream and sugar into my now full mug of coffee.

Hopping up on the edge of the kitchen’s white marble island, i swung my dangling legs gently and sipped some coffee. My three friends stared at me expecting me to continue. I didn’t. Only sipped some more coffee and used the purple mug to hide my growing blush. Even if it had just been cuddling, it made my heart rate spike whenever I thought of it. Which had been a lot over the past few hours when I hid in my room so I wouldn’t have to answer questions about it. Obviously, that failed when my coffee addiction became too strong and I found my way into this little trap my friends had just sprung on me.

“We’re just friends, Tony.” I reminded, hiding my disappointment behind my mug again. I wanted to be more with Bucky, but... ‘But that’s not going to happen, so take what you can get.’ My brain piped up unhelpfully. Across the room, a boisterous laugh erupted. We all glanced over to see who was entering the room. It was the twins. Wanda must’ve been the one to laugh because Pietro—as always— was stuffing his face with sugary food. “Just friends? You and Bucky?” The female Maximoff guffawed again. “Oh, that’s hilarious, Liv, sweetie. I mean, it’s so obvious you guys have some unexplored feelings for each other.” Flummox twisted and coiled within me like a snake. And, knowing I’d probably regret it, I asked what Wanda meant. With a grin, she opened her mouth to respond, but —of course—Tony jerked up and half ran/half fell towards the twins.

Startled, the younger twin stepped back. Automatically, Pietro started forward protectively, coming to a stop half in front of his sister. I smiled at the little display, took another swig of coffee. “Oh please, let me tell her! Oh please, oh please, OH PLE-ASE!” Tony begged, cutting off whatever Wanda was planning on saying. He didn’t even glance at Pietro. Rolling her eyes, Wanda detoured around the two men in her way and strutted towards us three assassins seated at—or on—the island.

“Fine. I guess.” She sighed dramatically, pouring her own cup of coffee. I snickered and she copied the action. “Ok! Ok, Liv—pay attention! JARVIS is going to play a video, but I want—no, no, I need you—to listen to the audio, ok? Listen to the audio!” Tony shrieked excitedly, racing to me and placing his hands firmly on my knees. His brown eyes bored into mine, a craziness igniting in both his irises and on his lips. Suddenly nervous, I agreed. Triumphant, Tony glanced up at the ceiling high above, calling out way to loudly for so early in the morning. “JARVIS! Play the footage!”

The tower’s AI responded instantly, bringing up the requested recording in a holographic display in the middle of the room. It was of last night’s movie-watching event. It showed mini 3D versions of all of us entering the media room and putting on a movie. Of Bucky and I cuddling on the couch together. Of me eventually falling asleep in his strong arms. “Skip forward, skip forward!” Tony ordered.

I took another sip, watching the screen as it skipped forward. “Here!” Tony half screeched as the footage he wanted got to a certain point. JARVIS played the recording, turning up the volume so we could hear the sound. For a second, my eyes wandered around to look at the half of my friends that were in here. They were all grinning like kids in a candy store. Except Tony—he was beaming and bouncing up and down.

Then, a quiet voice coming from the recording yanked my attention back to it. It was the on-screen Bucky, murmuring as the rest of footage us slept. Eyebrows drawing downward, I leaned forward to hear better, my legs coming up to rest in a crossed position on the marble countertop I was seated on.

The volume increased again, allowing digital Bucky’s voice to clearly reach my ears. I couldn’t be sure due to all the shadows of the room, but it seemed like Bucky was speaking to himself. Thinking out loud to himself. Disinterested, I chugged some my coffee, reaching over and preparing more for myself once the mug was empty. Until I heard my name. I set my coffee cup down and refocused on the recording. On what my best friend was whispering in the darkness.

“...feelings...help me be who I used to be, Livvie....I’ll always be here for you..” Bucky’s gentle tone continued. The recording zoomed in, clearly showing how computer Bucky was pressing his lips to my forehead tenderly. My heart soared. Then dropped. This had to be fake. Bucky would never do this. I wouldn’t let myself believe anything else. “Oh, are those wedding bells I hear?” Tony enquired. Wanda shushed him instantly. Pietro laughed jeeringly, only to have Wanda shush him just as harshly a second later.

“I—I don’t know how to say this to you, Livvie. Which is why I guess I’m telling you this now... I—um, I—” I leaped off the corner, charged through the holographic display so it wouldn’t be able to form anymore and told JARVIS to shut it off. The AI complied instantly, apologizing. I waved it away. It wasn’t his fault. “This doesn’t m—mean anything. Please—I just—don’t li—” I cut myself off, not sure what to do. Shakily, I exhaled. I couldn’t think straight through the pain. This couldn’t be real and it was cruel of Tony to play this kind of prank on me.

A sharp inhale and retreating footsteps sounded from behind me. I saw the eyes of those in front of me widen. I whipped around, scared that I’d be right in my prediction as to who had been standing there. My heart fell as my suspicions were confirmed. Bucky. He’d heard my lie, I could tell. He slowly backed away, a hurt expression on his handsome face and his breaths coming out as heaving gasps. A moment later, and he darted away. He was having a panic attack. Because of me. ‘Oh my god, it was real.’

Throwing a dark look over my shoulder at Tony, I bolted from the kitchen. Chasing after my best friend. Wanting to catch up to him. Wanting what? To apologize? To explain? I didn’t know. Bucky’s longer legs carried him out of sight quickly, but I knew where he was going—the training room. He’d take the stairs, he always did. His claustrophobia acted up in elevators. “JARVIS! Get me to the training room!” I huffed out once the doors opened enough for me to slip inside the enclosed space.

Bucky was already disappearing around the corner towards the punching bags when the doors finally dinged open on the right floor a couple minutes later. “Bucky!” I rushed forward. But so did he. “Bucky, please! I was lying to Tony because I thought he faked the recording! Bucky I know you can hear me—just listen!” He stopped suddenly, heaving as he collapsed to the safety mat-covered floor under our feet. Fear jetted through my body as Bucky mumbled something in Russian. He was remembering again. Remembering his time with HYDRA.

Everything that had just transpired flew from my mind like a caged bird when it sees its first chance at freedom. My best friend needed help. I dashed closer, falling to my knees in front of him. I grasped him by his forearms tightly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. HYDRA can’t hurt you anymore.” I soothed with wide, worry filled, eyes. “Get out—Please—I don’t wanna—hurt you.” Bucky wheezed, weakly reaching up and pushing on my knee. I said the first thing that came to my mind, “I’m not leaving you, Bucky. Not ever.”

“Pl—ease, Doll. I c—can’t—breathe. I—c—it—hurts—s.” I inched closer, moved my hands up to grip his shoulders. “Shh, Shh, Bucky. Look at me, ok? Focus on my voice.”

“I—”

“Hush, Bucky, listen. Just—just listen to me.” Bucky nodded. It was all he could do at the moment. Encouraged, I continued, “Okay, I want you to remember—remember us, ‘kay? Remember when we first met—yeah? At Tony’s party. Someone roofied me, tried to hurt me, and you stopped them, remember? You saved my life.” My best friend grunted, his metal hand clenching and unclenching on the floor beside him. I inched a little closer. “Or the time you and me had a mission in Norway. And we had to pretend we were married and on our honeymoon as our cover?” Bucky let loose a strangled laugh. I grinned, gaining confidence. “You remember when we built that blanket fort together? And stayed up all night watching Disney movies to get you caught up?”

“And that time we pranked Clint by putting rubber cement in the vents so he couldn’t use them—how it took a month for him to get them all cleared out?” Bucky nodded, his breathing slowly starting to even out. I went on, not noticing the way he was looking at me as he fought for air. “Remember that time we got lost in IKEA and Steve and Nat had to come and rescue us? Or the other time we got lost in IKEA and we were stuck in there ‘til morning? We gave that new part time employee quite the scare, didn’t we?” I laughed. Bucky grinned. It was working! His panic attack was going away!

“Remember all the thunderstorms we got through together? And last night—during the movie when we cuddled? You’ve always been the best cuddler, Bucky.” That was the wrong thing to bring up—the cuddling. I was so stupid—that’s why we were here in the first place! Bucky’s panic attack returned full force. As did my worry for my best friend. I inched closer once again, brought my hands up to cup Bucky’s cheeks gently. “Oh, Shh. Shh, Bucky. It’s okay. It’s okay.” His dazed, scared, eyes locked on mine, two shades of blue, both alight with a strange mix of concern and—something else? Bucky’s eyes dipped down to my lips and his breathing picked up in panic.

I have to slow his breathing, before he passes out! My own panic washed over me as I tried to figure out how to calm my best friend down. Talking wasn’t working this time. My mind raced. My best friend gasped. Abrupt calm slid over me like a blanket. ‘Get him to hold his breath.’ My brain was right. But how? ‘You could kiss him.’ My brain offered. If I wasn’t so worried, I would’ve blushed. Instead, I scooted forward for the final time, brushed my finger tips down Bucky’s cheek bones. His steel blue eyes dipped down again as he shivered under my caress.

I swallowed. Leaned in. And, without a second thought, pressed a slow kiss to the super soldier’s soft lips. He made a tiny noise of surprise—but didn’t hesitate to kiss back. Fireworks exploded through my head, followed by butterflies. My heart cried out, breaking itself open, only to fill itself back up with a wonderful, overpowering—feeling. Love. This is love, I realized. I love my best friend. After another moment, I pulled away to check on said best friend. His panic attack had stopped. I breathed out in relief, shutting my eyes for a second. ‘Thank the gods,’ I thought, my eyes flickering back open and looking to Bucky.

He was staring at me, his expression a mix of shock and something else. “D—did you just kiss me, Doll?”

“I—” wasn’t even sorry. I was in love. “I think— I’m in love with you, Soldier. So, yeah, I guess so.” I inhaled, nervous. “But I guess now I’d like to know—if you feel the same—about me?” My best friend was silent as he stared. My brow furrowed in concern, “Bucky? Are you okay?” He started, then, emerging from his daze like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

“Livvie?”

“Yeah?”

He inhaled, grabbed my hand in both of his, held it like it was a lifeline. “Falling in love with you wasn’t apart of my life plan—but I don't regret it. Not for a second, Doll.”

“Really?” Tears of joy prickled in my eyes and I happily blinked then away, beaming brighter than the sun. “Yeah, Livvie.” He murmured, reaching up and tucking a strand of my long blonde hair behind my ear. My smile dropped a tiny bit. “I—I’m sorry I lied about last night to the others. Last night meant so much to me, every moment with you does, Bucky. I just wanted Tony to stop because I didn’t think what I was seeing was real. But it is, I see that now. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky chuckled. “It’s okay. I don’t even care anymore. I only care about you, Olivia Rachel Hensen.” My smile returned to its original beam, one that matched Bucky’s. “Do you, um, would you be mine? If you’ll have me, I mean. Please?” Nerves mixed in with his elation. I laughed in delight. “I’ll be yours until the whole galaxy dies, Soldier.” With love burning like a fire in his eyes, Bucky pulled me in for another sweet kiss.

#marvel #bucky fic #writing #fanfic #marvel fic #sebastian stan #bucky x oc #fluff #angst with a happy ending