#like england is slowly becoming less and less safe for me to exist in as time goes on it's actually depressing

[reimu-enjoyer]

i hate england so much, transphobes here are getting more and more bold to such a degree that they’re being little shits on our internal workplace messageboard.  like these mfs are being bigots with their full ass names and stores they work at in their user info. they’re risking disciplinary just to punch down at us. this is genuinely fucked up.

[summahsunlight]

Worth the Risk, Part 8

Rating: Mature(18+only)

Word Count: 1881

Pairing: Army Pilot!Poe Dameron x Nurse!Reader (1940s AU)

Summary: It’s the 1940s, Army pilot and Captain Poe Dameron is flying on missions for the United States Army in Europe.  After being shot down off the coast of France, Poe wakes up in an Army hospital in England, to find you, a nurse, taking care of him. Throughout the process of his recovery, Poe finds himself falling for you, and even though you, for the most part, maintain a professional relationship with him–you’re falling for him as well. Both of you know the risks of falling in love during a war, but then again, both of you have never cared much for being cautious.

Warnings:  Angst, swearing, Ben Solo makes a cameo appearance

Taglist: @fanfic-addict-98, @thescarletknight2014, @blushingwueen, @americasass-romanoff, @ginger-swag-rapunzel​, @spider-starry​, @totelpoedameron​, @captain-america5​, @liadamerondjarin​, @m1rkw00dpr1ncess​

Taglist is still open! Let me know if you would like to be added☺️This time Reader is played by Haley Atwell. As always, likes, asks, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I love to hear your thoughts, so please don’t be shy❤️

Three weeks had passed since Poe rejoined the Army, but to you it felt more like a lifetime. You hadn’t heard from him since he left and you suspected you wouldn’t hear from him for a while; the mail was incredibly slow during war. Never-the-less, you checked each day to see if Poe had sent you a letter--in between preparing your unit of nurses for deployment. 

Hux was even more prickly than normal. Many of the nurses stayed clear of him, but you, being in charge of the nurses had to deal with him on a daily basis. You dealt with it though because you wanted your nurses to be prepared for the mission to France. Everyone was anxious and on edge-- Hux were just being downright cruel. 

You tolerated it because you were afraid if you said anything, Hux would inform the Army of your relationship with Poe and ship you back to America. You were more helpful here in Europe--so you kept your mouth shut. And when you knew Hux wasn’t around, you would take out the photograph you had of Poe and look at it, longingly. 

There was a void inside your soul without Poe around. You missed his arms around you, you missed the way he would gently kiss your nose when he thought you were being adorable; you missed his hand in yours as you walked around the hospital grounds. All you could do for now was pray that he was safe and that he stayed safe in the coming days. 

It was that night, you got your first letter from Poe. Locking yourself in your room, you read it, holding tightly to the photograph of Poe you kept with you at all times.

May 16, 1944

My darling, I miss you more than words can say. Being back at the barracks, with my boys is surreal. It was like being with you was a dream that I was forced to wake up from I know that this is where I need to be, that my country needs me to fight the tyranny that is Germany--but my heart just longs to be with you.

The boys keep making fun of me, of course. It’s all in good nature. I don’t mind it, really. They need an outlet, they need an escape from the hell that our lives have become since entering this war. Although, I did threaten Arana I was going to tell lies about him so you wouldn’t want to set him up with any of your friends. For now, that seems to have shut him up. I know that they mean and everyone is on edge with the talk of invading Normandy.

I keep hearing that the next mission might be the most important one we’ve undertaken to date. Some are saying that it we take Normandy, we’ll win the war. God, I hope they are right. I’m so tired of fighting in this war, sweetheart. I just want to go home--I want to take you home with me to meet my father. I think he’d loved you. Actually, I know he would love you.

Stay strong, love. I know I don’t have to say it to you because you are the strongest person I know, but it never hurts to hear it. I love you, I love you so much. One day, we’ll be together again. 

All my heart,

Poe

You closed your eyes, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks. Absentmindedly your fingers reached up to the chain around your neck and slid down to find the ring hanging off the end. It might be days before you heard any news on Poe and if he had survived the invasion. 

Finding some paper, you wrote back to him. Unlike Poe, you were able to let him know what was going on, that your unit was going to be deployed to France once the beaches of Normandy were secure. Of course, you understood that those words held a false sense of security. Enemy forces could still attack while your unit was treating wounded there. It was much more dangerous being on the frontlines than in a hospital, but for some men, medics and nurses on the frontlines were the best hope for survival.

It’s quiet here without you, my love. Please stay safe for me. I love you so, so, so much. You pressed your lips to the paper, leaving a perfect red impression of your lips there. Come back to me, Poe. 

Placing your letter in an envelope, you addressed it to him and put it down on your desk to mail in the morning.

Folding his letter up, you placed it in the jewelry box that you kept his photo in at night, along with some dried up flowers he had given you. Snapping the lid shut, you hugged the box to your chest. You had gone to church every Sunday with your parents as a child, but after everything you had seen you constantly questioned the existence of God. If he was there, if he was listening, then you prayed to him that he’d keep your pilot safe.

“Y/N?” Rey’s voice said on the other side of your door. “Are you in there?”

“Yes!” you called, putting the box down and wiping your tears.

“Can I come in?” “Yes, it’s unlocked.”

Rey stepped into your room. She gave you a sad look, like she knew you had been reading Poe’s letter and missing him. “I doubled checked all our supplies; we’re ready to leave when the Army gives us the okay.”

Slowly you nodded. “Listen, Rey,” you said, softly, unable to look her in the eyes. “I think you’re a wonderful nurse, but the Army is only sending my enlisted unit. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I just found out. Hux informed me. Only enlisted nurses are going to the front lines, not civilian ones.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “But I want to help! I can’t go just because I’m not a member of the U.S Army?”

“It’s not like you won’t be needed here.”

“But I want to go with you and Jessika; I want to go with my friends.”

“Please, Rey, don’t make this harder...”

“I thought you trusted me?”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I do Rey, but you’re a civilian nurse; you didn't sign up for the dangers of treating the wounded on the frontlines.”

Rey glared at you, furiously, before opening your door and slamming it shut in your face. You were left standing in your room, fists clenched, and hating yourself for how you had told her. You should have told her the moment you found out but you knew she’d be angry. She was passionate about helping, but because she was a civilian she wasn’t going to be allowed to go to the frontlines.

Part of you was happy about this. Rey was nineteen. She shouldn’t be going to the frontlines. There were already enough young men her age dying, you hated to think about the same happening to Rey.

That night you night you fell asleep, crying; crying over how far away Poe was, crying for Rey and crying because you knew the horrific future that was a head of you when you left for France.

----

“Dameron, wake up,” Snap said, shaking him.

“What’s going on?” Poe mumbled, opening his eyes. 

“Time to go.”

Poe quickly got out of bed. His crew had been preparing for this mission for the last three weeks. Looking at maps, training runs--but the day had finally arrived. June 5, 1944.  There mission was to fly paratroopers to a drop sight in Normandy over night, so the troops could be begin securing important locations prior to the invasion beginning in the morning. It had already been delayed a day, so Poe and the rest of his crew had been catching up on sleep in anticipation of flying overnight.

Slipping into his leather flight jacket, Poe followed Snap outside of the barracks towards the planes being fueled up for their trip. The captain of the paratrooper until that they were in charge of flying to Normandy stepped forward. “You the pilot?”

Nodding, Poe glanced at the boys loading his plane. Lord, some of them couldn’t be more than eighteen, nineteen years old. “I am. Captain Poe Dameron,” he said, introducing himself. “Welcome aboard my crew.”

“Captain Ben Solo,” the other man said, shaking his hand. “Get us to Normandy, Dameron, and you have a friend for life in us.”

“Gonna do my best,” Poe said, firmly. “I can’t promise a smooth ride; weather hasn’t been great over France the last few days--but I’ll get you there.”

Solo gave him a soft grin before boarding the plane himself. Snap glanced at Poe with a shake of his head. “And they say we’re the crazy ones for flying--what possess a man to strap a parachute on and willingly jump from a moving plane?”

Poe laughed and pat his friend on the back. He climbed into the cockpit of their C-47. His crew consisted of Snap, Iolo and a their radio operative, a young man from Oklahoma that Snap had affectionately nicknamed kid. “Ready?” he asked his crew.

Snap gave him a thumbs up. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Arana chimed in, “Let’s go leave the German’s a little surprise, shall we?”

His radio operative nodded and said he was just waiting to hear the word that they were given clearance to take-off.

Grinning, Poe started the plane up. He touched the photograph of you he had taped to his panels. He took a deep breath. This was his first mission since the crash and he felt butterflies in his stomach. If he crashed this time, there was so much more at stake--his crew, the paratroopers--you. He couldn’t fail. “Sweetheart,” he whispered to your photograph. “I love you. This is for you.”

“You alright, Dameron?” Snap asked, noticing his eyes on your photo.

“Yeah. Just hope I see her again,” Poe sighed.

“Hey, you will.”

“Wish I had your faith, Snap.”

“I have to tell myself that every time I get in the cockpit--that I will see Karé again. Otherwise, I’m scared shitless about what’s to come.” 

“Even if I think I’ll see her again, I’m still scared shitless, Snap. This invasion is going to make or break our chances for victory. And if we don’t win--I don’t want to think about what happens if we don’t win.”

Snap was silent. The truth was that he had the same fears as Poe. He gave the younger man a long, sad look before patting Poe confidently on the shoulder. 

Poe set his jaw. Yes, he was terrified, but he knew that they had a job to do. Glancing around at his crew, they were depending on him to get them back to the barracks safely. And the paratroopers, they were depending on this crew to pull through and get them to Normandy. 

The world was depending on them.

“Captain,” the radio operative said, “we’ve been given permission to take off.”

“Alright boys,” Poe said as he eased the plane onto the runway, “Let’s do this.”

[malereader-inserts]

Andante, Andante | Ch.I

“I’ll make you a deal,” Peter says, you tilted your head as he continues, “If I can make you fall in love with me by the end of the summer, then you don’t move countries.”

Word Count:  1,638

A/n: I forgot how hard it is when to start a story because I have the urge to start with, “Hi, my name is Peter Parker and I am eighteen years old...”  Also, Why hasn’t Tumblr made a setting to put text in the centre? Feedback will be appreciated!

Next> 

New York City. 

It is a place you only know your life to be in. A place that you and some of the Avengers have ever know, you weren’t like Tony Stark who could hop on a jet and fly wherever his heart desired. You were just average, a man of eighteen who was struck by lightning and now is on the Avengers team.

And you can’t complain, you were welcomed to the team as if you were just adopted. They were welcoming, you had each other’s back. 

But, there was just something that was nagging in the back of your head, you had to get out of the Big Apple. New York was great, but you didn’t want to be confined to the superhero life, no matter how selfish that sounds. There’s more to life than to risk it.

That’s why Peter Parker just fails to understand, sure, he’s heard it too much that with great power comes great responsibility, but who doesn’t want that serotonin feeling when you did a good deed? He just doesn't get it, you wanting to fly and travel the world, he even freaked out when he heard you apply to University at Cambridge in England, not Cambridge Boston at M.I.T. 

“But, it’s New York, (L/n)!” Peter exclaims as you scoffed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“So what?” You feigned annoyance, “If I recall, Parker, you’re going to M.I.T! That’s not exactly in New York.”

“O-okay!” Peter stutters as he throws his arms in the air, “That’s beside the point!” 

You scoffed, shaking your head, “I don’t know why you’re so angered by this, it’s not like you care about me.”

This was a fact that you were wrong about, god, if you only knew. Peter Parker was head over heels for you, that’s a fact, there are a few reasons to why he’s hasn’t acted upon it. 

You’re grumpy as hell, not the most approachable person on the team

You’re closed off, there’s not much you allow a person to know about you.

You’re so god damn pretty that Peter believes you are the sun, vibrant, and everyone knows the story of Icarus.

He wouldn’t consider each other as friends, more than strangers but less than friends.

So, Peter has resorted to staring at you, he tries not to be a creep about it. But, he can’t help to linger on your drawl of certain words. He can’t help but stare a second longer and he’s unable to stop the stomach acid from rising from his stomach to his throat. In conclusion, Peter is in love with you, as many would say, and he was pretty good at hiding it away since he’s always in Stark’s lab, out of sight. 

You don’t know much about Stark’s kid, Peter. Other than you like how Parker sounded when you say it, that Peter is a hyperactive puppy who you can’t help but just adore, though feelings come hard to you and to express, and that Peter Parker was a ball of sunshine, that if you were to stare at him for too long you would go blind. Not that you would stare at him, in fact, you barely register his existence. You like knowing about him, he’s a Queen’s boy, smart like Stark, and absolute dork whilst he knows the bare minimum of you.

Keeps you safe.

Whatever helps you sleep at night, you know?

You were questioning yourself, why did Peter care so much about you leaving? No one in the team would tell you, as if they were sworn to secrecy, either that or they know something that isn’t for them to tell you. As soon as the summer break started, you noticed how Peter was becoming all close to you, wanting to know more of you.

You brushed him off as best as you could, glaring him away or giving him no attention. But, he was persistent, you admit, there was some underlying determination in whatever challenge he had set himself. So, just this once, as you sat by the pond, your feet hanging off the wooden decking, just barely over the water.

“I wondered how long it would take you to find me,” You says, looking over your shoulder to see Peter carrying lunch for the pair of you, “Why are you so determined in getting to know me?”

“Well, you’re part of the team and I feel like everyone is supposed to know everyone,” Peter says, timidly placing the tray of plates of lunch in between you and him, “Steve cooked, says it’s your favourite.”

Bastard, you thought, Steve and Natasha were really the only ones you were closed to and they promised to give anything away about you even the smallest of things such as favourite food, favourite colour, etc…

“Well, thanks…” You answered, hoping that Peter would just leave you alone but you had noticed he placed his platter of lunch on his lap.

“Also, you seem like you needed a friend.”

If you could be any meme, you would be that open mouth Pikachu meme as you wondered why you entertained Peter’s curiosity with you. Steve tells you to play nice, Nat says Peter is a wonderful boy. They both expressed that you needed more friends.

“You’re setting off on the right foot,” You say, sarcastically as you shove some food into your mouth, “Do you have many friends?”

“Okay-” Peter looked embarrassed, as you waited for his answer, “That sounded so rude, didn’t it?”

“Trust me, Parker, you aren’t the first to tell me that.”

“Oh,” Peter says, trying to lighten up the mood, “Idiot then?”

“It was Steve and Nat,” You informed him, there was a tinge of amusement when you see Peter stop chewing, alarmed, “But, idiots? More like, functional morons at best.”

Peter’s eyes widen, “You have a sense of humour!”

You almost choked on your own spit as you were lost for words, looking at the boy, with a mouth gaping open at him. You become a stuttering mess as you just couldn’t comprehend what this boy was on.

“I am a human being, Parker!” You exclaimed, “You’ve just given me lunch!”

Peter shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know, man, you could have easily convinced me that you’re an Andriod, you know from that video game…”

You watched him slowly go off on a tangent, you tilted your head as you knitted your eyebrows together. 

“Has anyone told you that you talk too much?” You asked, interrupting him as he flushed red, “Because you do.”

Peter gives you a goofy smile as you huffed out an amused breath, your lips curving upwards as you look away from him. Peter almost forgets how to breathe because you’re natural state was glaring at everything but this was the first time he had seen you smile.

And my god, Peter thought, he would do anything to see that glorious smile of yours. You fall into silence as you finish your plate, Peter quickly turning his attention away from you - hoping that he wasn’t caught staring as he quickly cleans the last of his food.

“So,” Peter clears his throat as you look at him with a raised eyebrow, “England.”

“Ah, so we’re back to this conversation…” You mused out, at first, Peter was irking you with this topic but you convinced yourself to have patience with him, he was simply curious.

“That’s a long way from home,” Peter continues, placing his plate onto of yours on the tray, “Why?”

“Why what?” You questioned.

“Why so far away?”

Your shoulders tense, you hate talking about yourself, before you resorted to shrugging, “A new beginning? There’s a whole world out there, Parker, why confine yourself to one place?”

“Well, I think it’s stupid,”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “That’s not the only reason why I want to get away but thanks for your considering opinion that I did not ask for.”

Peter doesn’t miss the sarcasm in your voice as his cheeks turn red, now, you two were back to square one where you rather close yourself off. 

“Listen, we better get back in before Steve calls us in,” You continue as Peter was about to apologise.

You stood up, patting away the dirt from your legs as Peter slowly nods and gets up too. You both stood in front of each other, just staring at each other. 

Peter shifted his weight between the heels to his toes, looking at you awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him, his silence was unsettling, not once have you seen the hyperactive puppy just paused for a moment. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” Peter says, you tilted your head as he continues, “If I can make you fall in love with me by the end of the summer, then you don’t move countries.”

You straighten your back, “And if I don’t fall in love with you?”

“Then, you get to leave, leave the life you started here. Leave the people who consider you like family, I’m not going to stop you,” Peter licks his lips, his bitter tone goes unnoticed.

However, he stands proudly and for once he wasn’t just a teenager, he was a young man coming to a new stage of life. You lock your jaw and let out an unbelievable huff.

“So? Do we have a deal?” He lifts a hand out in between you two.

You stared at it before clasping it, giving him a firm handshake, “You got yourself a deal, Parker.”

He smiles at you, picking up the tray and dashing it back to the compound. You stayed by the wooden pier as you stare at the hand you shook with.

What have you got yourself into? 

Tagged: @locke-writes @yesthetrashbin  @blackirisposts @idwithoutthesuperego @screamingmuffinsunite @fifi550 @vydante @batfam16 @kpopchangedmylifesstuff @chaotictyler @delphicillusion

Wanna be tagged for the next parts, message me! I just tagged the people who responded their interest, want your name off, again, just message me!

[hellolittleogre]

Dusting off the Archives

Before the Magnificent Seven-Jane Eyre AU there was another unfinished Jane Eyre AU- the Eagle-Jane Eyre AU. I did not come up with this genius idea, it of course comes from Passion and Profession by Demon Rum.

Under the Cut: A Jane Eyre/ the Eagle crossover where Marcus is Rosamund Oliver and Esca is the Reverend St.John Rivers (occasionally channeling Maurice and a teetotal Brideshead Revisited).

Uncle Aquila is Mr Oliver and Marcus is sent to him in Morton when he is twelve and his mother has remarried and his stepfather does not want him around. She’s sent him away to protect him. St.John is maybe eleven or younger, they meet on the moor when St.John admires Marcus’ horse. His family’s financial difficulties has just started and all their horses have been sold, including Esca’s pony. Marcus shares the horse with him and they spend a magical summer on the moors before Marcus has to go back to school.

St.John eventually goes to Cambridge, makes friends with a group of young students, among them Amis Leash, a young student who is also going to be a priest.  They have a very close friendship, walking arm in arm, sleeping in each other’s beds, leaning heads on laps etc and St.John realises he is in love. Immediately tries to cut all emotional ties to Leash without disrupting their friendship too much. He is equally unhappy about the possibility that Amis might love him back as if he does not. Amis becomes engaged and is genuinely in love with his fiancé. They graduate and Amis marries and St.John understands that he loves his wife and spends the night in the church sincerely thanking god for sparing his friend’s soul from the same taint that his own carries. He feels profound relief and joy at the same time as being torn apart, his greatest fear was his feelings being requited.

St.John returns to Morton and the parish there, he yearns for glory and power. Meanwhile Marcus has become a soldier and lost the use of his leg in the war. Uncle Aquila/Oliver comes to ask St.John to come and talk to him and lift his spirits during his convalescence and when St.John declines he promises a donation to the church and school and effectively buys his services. 

Esca comes to talk to Marcus, who is very low. By this point St.John has schooled himself out of compassion and is very cold, made from marble. If Esca, with his horrible soul can live righteously then anybody should be able to do it, and he has no compassion for anyone who falters.

He tells Marcus: “God does not give us more than we can bear and he has made you strong.”

 Slowly, slowly they fall in love, each subtly responding to the presence of the other, St.John flushes and kindles and becomes more compassionate, less marble but understands his emotions and refuses to let them rule him. Declines the invites Marcus makes him, even when he is obviously stupidly in love. Marcus is much more oblivious to his own emotions and can’t understand why Esca treats him like his dearest friend one moment and so cold the next, and his refusal to extend their intimacy.

Jane Eyre arrives to Morton. A variation of the scene at the school where she realises that S.t John/Esca is in love with Rosamund Oliver/ Marcus. Esca can sense her shrewd eye seeing him but also that she understands him and his wish to live better and more gloriously than his circumstances. Jane Eyre inherits the money from here Uncle and finds out that St. John and his sisters are her relatives and shares her good fortune. When his sisters no longer has to teach he decides to go where his soul is not chafing at the bit, and become a missionary for the glory of God. Esca fails to persuade Jane to marry him, in the last minute she turns away from him and he mourns that she has gone to live in sin with Mr Rochester. 

When Marcus hears that Esca has decided to travel the next month without taking leave of Marcus he goes to the church in Morton and confronts him They fight it out in the church and Marcus lays out his emotions and demands that Esca answer him. St.John answers that he loves him but for the sake of their very souls he has to go or act on his feelings. It is precisely because he loves Marcus that he has to leave him. To his view it  would have been better if they had not spoken and not acknowledged their feelings. 

“So you do love me?” Marcus asks,the joy on his face cutting Esca like a knife.

“Like my soul is melted with yours.” Esca answers him

They kiss until St.John declares that they absolutely cannot. And then they kiss some more. St.John declares that they can never see each other again, if they see each other again they will only fall into sin, the physical rendering must be complete and total.  

“Every contact with me taints your soul, that I love so dearly.” he tells Marcus, who clings Esca, holds him and begs him to stay but he is like stone and can’t be swayed.

St.John leaves the next day, sees Marcus from the train, he’s riding along the tracks on a hill.

St.John goes to Kolkata, is a complete failboat, he finds that nobody wants to convert. Builds a school in a rural district, takes up the abolitionist cause, catches malaria and dies. 

Or nearly dies, on his deathbed Esca has a vision of being safe and sound with Marcus. The missionary reinforcement arrives and finds him nearly dead underneath the cross in the church. They take him back to Kolkata and then as soon as he is even slightly recovered they stick him on a boat to England (nobody likes St.John, he has a stick permanently up his ass and he makes everyone else look bad). Esca gets better when the weather becomes cooler but his health is ruined forever and he can never go back. He arrives back at Morton earlier than anticipated  and instead of waiting for the carriage he decides to walk, which is a bad idea. Halfway home he collapses on the moor and is found by Marcus out on a ride. “How did you find me?” he asks, he had asked his sisters not to tell anyone he was coming home.

“Didn’t you call me?” Marcus answers. “For the past six months I have heard your voice every morning calling me out of the house to ride the moor.”  Marcus puts him in front of him on the horse and they ride to the house, they snuggle. Esca is content, his soul is whole.

“I left a part with you and man cannot live without his soul,” he tells Marcus.

After his relapse on the moor Esca must convalesce, he finds out through gossip under his window that Marcus is likely to get married to a local lady, when Marcus visits and is surprised by his chill he makes a stilted reference to this. 

“I should not presume, and on the whole it is better for you” he says and Marcus laughs and assures him he is not getting married. They talk and kiss. St.John suffers qualms but the flesh is weak after like five years of pining. Now God has given him joy and he would be ungrateful not to take it. Marcus makes him see that they are not put on the earth to be unhappy and all creatures must exist as God made them. St.John writes to Jane to apologize for being an ass.

And then they are happy gay Yorkshire farmers.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

well it was supposed to be FCBD (yes i know “postponed”), and it’s been a terrible day thus far, so how’s about my plot outline/list for what was going to happen in Superverse before it went on hiatus...because at this point it would either be another time skip past all/most of this or a full on hard reboot if we went back to it at this point

to start off, the STT was going to continue with Chloe struggling to be leader since Tim’s around, and everyone keeps going to him a bit more than her...well half of everyone. it culminates with Time leaving to  go restart the Power pals, since well, he’s nearing 20 at this point. and the STT was getting quite a large roster, so the older members went with him, while the younger stayed and Chloe once again could be the leader.

Kevin would’ve met Junior at some point (because who doesn’t like amophus daemons). Trudy also got herself a girlfriend in the form of Susan C. Anthony, a bank heiress, who does not have powers.

Tootie was going to eventually come back (idk when or how) as Shadow Stalker. again, her return was farther down the line, so i don’t have the details that well ironed out...

Chester had already left Star Investigations because Mari had called him to a reading of Catman’s will. he did indeed inherit half of West Industries, as the young Adam was posing as a long lost son and thus was legally entitled to half the company too. Chester took over as Catman, while Mari stayed on to help Adam deal with the company. Chester would join Tim’s new Power Pals, thus finally fixing their broken friendship.

Trixie and Trini were going to head to Glamazon Island after they defeated Hair Razor. Trini’s lasso was destroyed in the fight, so they figured maybe she could use this reality’s lasso. Trixie’s powers were also starting to flare up, so they were also hoping to get some answers to that. once there they get to see that Goldenlocks has had her son, and they get to meet Hermia (whom Dwight was dropping off). they both end up going through a mystical trial of sorts that ended with Trini not getting the golden lasso of this universe, but her own silver one forged for her; Trixie on the other hand gets flashes of Cel’rey and Trisha, and the mystical voices tell her that she needs to go to England, leading into a Star/Sonic crossover event

over with Sonic and Paladin, it’s business as usual. however, CHATTY is starting to get hyper aggressive since Sanjay and Francis are starting to renew their romance.the team has to take her out, but in the ensuing battle their complex looses power for some time. this leads to 1) Sanjay learning that Britannia has blackmail over every member of Paladin and 2) it jump starts Molly out of her coma. Molly goes full Phoenix force though, as she absorbed the Light from Trixie at the end of Civil War (thus leading to her coma). this is when Trixie and Trini arrive more or less, so they help Paladin wrangle Molly back in and Trixie is able to reabsorb the Light, getting her powers back, and becoming Star-Gal once more. this also leaves Molly awake and permanently able to fly.

it would soon become revealed that BRAT, headed by Doombringer (the life hopping sorceress from King Arthur’s time), had been bankrolling Paladin (she also had a hand in funding Shallowgrave’s Civil War, and had the Summers killed, among other things). how is it revealed? because Crimson Lightning comes back into play once Sanjay and Francis are together again as the annoying jealous ex that he is. they manage to get him under control thanks to Molly’s help, but Alyssa ends up with the demon sword, becoming the Black Knight.

Trini goes and joins Tim’s Power Pals, while Trixie gets called back into space. First she finds and frees Hawkgal, then the two go out into space. Remember the ice guy Star Investigations helped out? well he sends a distress call to Trixie; her mentor Killgala is back some how...and the Darkness is also en-couching. Mark and Starfury also join up with them, ad they would in time find a version of Crash Nebula. the whole Light/Darkness mythos was also better explained, about how at the time of creation the cosmos split, thus leading to the Darkness and the Light; both energies became corrupted in different ways (the Light Corp imprisoning and using the Light, the Darkness going power hungry and creating the Eliminator drones, etc) and only by genuinely reuniting them could there be balance or something. that’s all cosmic stuff that i hadn’t fully fleshed out, since we needed to get past the Cosmic Cat stuff...

of course one minor subplot; Hermia would use Trixie and Trini’s existence as an excuse to escape Glamazon Island, claiming to go back to the mainland to go live with them, only to instead go shack up with Liam (the young Wet Willie). Trini, since she joins the Power pals, is the one to find that out, and gets royally peeved. but Hermia eventually takes over her spot on the team.

over in Eraserz, the team was going to get stuck going on a World Tour, being cut off from the Nexxus because some force was screwing up the multiverse. they would end up in a Mojoverse-like setting where they’d meet a half-editor entity (i forget who it was, might’ve been the April Fool or Puck). they’d pick up some temporary members, like the Franklin West Catman (who ends up staying in his reality), Charlie Hampton, the young Crimson Chin (who ends up on an alternate earth where the Power pals and STT had tehir age roles reversed, but there was no Chin, so he stays with that earth’s teenage Goldie) and some more permanent ones like RJ; specifically when they recruit RJ, Shirely stayed out of the Primeverse to do so (this was plot important) but so did Tony because he didn’t wanna risk running into Trini; RJ was recruited BEFORE Trini joined the Power Pals though. Tony would end up going missing while the team was hunting for an entity that was killing off alternate Trixie tangs, so they called in Trini to rejoin the team. somewhere along the line, RJ got stuck in a time displacement, and wound up on Earth 0 (the world that Shirely was exiled to) in the past; see, since RJ joined up, Shirely had been half avoiding, half flirting with him, and he was just starting to come around to it, but now he understood why, because from Shirely’s perspective they'd already dated. so RJ spends time with the past Shirely, is the one that convinces him not to be a prick and help the Eraserz when they come to him to take down Dark magician and co, and he ends up going back to his proper time, and the two of them pick back up tehir relationship where it left off. (this is all every important because as it would be revealed, Shirley and RJ are actually Tru Turner/Double T/FTT’s Masked Magician’s parents. Tim and Toot adopted her to keep her safe. that’s why she has such cosmic power, because she’s half Editor).

we were also going to learn more about Maggie’s backstory, since on the surface she seems like the only Eraserz member without a horrible tragic backstory, but as the plot progressed we’d keep getting hints to something. yeah, she has a Winter Solider!Kevin on her earth, and she kinda had to kill her cousin to save lives. but turns out she didn’t really kill him or something, because they end up on her world at some point and find out that she was manipulated to think she had?? something like that...i also had no intention to ever bring Kore back, so yeah, he’s dead-dead.

anyways, the Trixie hunting entity; that’s the Dark Star-Gal from that one special. she’s the Trixie that merged with the Darkness (since the Darkness wants to consume the Light, that we know she was the vessel for) and became self aware of the multiverse and started reality hopping to consume all Trixies. the Eraserz stop her...only to discover that the reason that Dark Star became aware of the multiverse was because the Showrunner gave her access...the Showrunner  that has been MIA since the Eliminatorz were stopped.

 the Showrunner was the one now causing the multiverse to start collapsing and breaking down because, to him, “this isn’t what the universe was supposed to be like”. he created one canon, and then another entity (the fandom) came in and started breaking it up, making spin offs, AUs, different versions, creating the multiverse. so he broke that entity up into pieces and scattered them across the multiverse, then created the Editors to police the multiverse to make sure the pieces couldn’t get back together (thus the universe rule of only 1 version of a person can exits there at a time) and slowly try to correct and remove the “wrong” universes. but the Editors grew out of his control as they evolved, so he created the Eraserz to, well, “erase’ the mistakes. but even they went against his plans, so he decided to just leave and just erase everything. but the pieces of the greater entity did find a way to come together, (a fragment of?) Omegus managed to hitch a ride with RJ when the Eraserz recruited him. Omegus then overtook Tony who bore the mark of Beteal, who went to Dark Magician to take the powers that Anosmotic, aka Zethran, had given him away, undoubtedly found a way to the Nega-verse to confront Alphane, and so on and so forth (if you hadn’t noticed, each reality that had an Omegus equivalent had a different name, and now you know why)...until all the pieces could be reunited, possibly in the body of CoT!Saber actually, into one being called Omnicron.

and the final confrontation of the Showrunner and Omnicron would be in the vast void as the multiverse was set on pause as it crumbled. the Showrunner claiming that Omnicron had destroyed the thing he had created, only for Omnicron to be all “i saw what you created and wanted to create my own. you helped me flourish, and then i helped others flourish. how can growth and creativity be the wrong thing to do?” because no, Omnicron did not destroy the multiverse, it was indeed the Showrunner; Omnicron took what the Showrunner had made and let it flourish on its own, while he just tried to contain it back into what he made it to be to begin with.

and so yeah, that’s what i had planned for Superverse. some thing were far more fleshed out than others, but those were the parts i’d had planned for YEARS. i had the Omnicron stuff planned before Civil War, while the Cosmic Cat i had planned since Civil War

[wordsnquotes-net]

N.K. Jemisin Quotes

Nora K. Jemisin (born September 19, 1972) is an American speculative fiction writer. Her fiction explores a wide variety of themes, including cultural conflict and oppression. She has won several awards for her work, including the Locus Award, and is the only author to have won the Hugo Award for Best Novel in three consecutive years.

In 2010, Jemisin's short story "Non-Zero Probabilities" was a finalist for the Hugo and Nebula Best Short Story Awards. Her debut novel, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, was nominated for the 2010 Nebula Award, and short-listed for the James Tiptree Jr. Award. In 2011, it was nominated for the Hugo Award, World Fantasy Award, and Locus Award, winning the 2011 Locus Award for Best First Novel. The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms also won the Sense of Gender Awards in 2011.

In 2016, Jemisin's novel The Fifth Season won the Hugo Award for Best Novel, making her the first African American writer to win a Hugo award in that category. Its sequels, The Obelisk Gate and The Stone Sky, won the Hugo Award for Best Novel in 2017 and 2018, respectively.

“Any woman can face the world alone, but why should we have to?” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Shadowed Sun

“In a child's eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“We can never be gods, after all--but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“For all those that have to fight for the respect that everyone else is given without question.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

“But love like that doesn't just disappear, does it? No matter how powerful the hate, there is always a little love left, underneath. Yes. Horrible, isn't it?” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“I think,” Hoa says slowly, “that if you love someone, you don’t get to choose how they love you back.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Stone Sky

“Tell them they can be great someday, like us. Tell them they belong among us, no matter how we treat them. Tell them they must earn the respect which everyone else receives by default. Them them there is a standard for acceptance; that standard is simply perfection. Kill those who scoff at those contradictions, and tell the rest that the dead deserved annihilation for their weakness and doubt. Then they'll break themselves trying for what they'll never achieve” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

“Home is what you take with you, not what you leave behind.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

“There's truth even in tainted knowledge, if one reads carefully.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“It is blasphemy to separate oneself from the earth and look down on it like a god. It is more than blasphemy; it is dangerous. We can never be gods, after all - but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“Fortunately, where reason failed, blind panic served well enough.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“And once upon a time I wondered: Is writing epic fantasy not somehow a betrayal? Did I not somehow do a disservice to my own reality by paying so much attention to the power fantasies of disenchanted white men?

But. Epic fantasy is not merely what Tolkien made it.

This genre is rooted in the epic — and the truth is that there are plenty of epics out there which feature people like me. Sundiata’s badass mother. Dihya, warrior queen of the Amazighs. The Rain Queens. The Mino Warriors. Hatshepsut’s reign. Everything Harriet Tubman ever did. And more, so much more, just within the African components of my heritage. I haven’t even begun to explore the non-African stuff. So given all these myths, all these examinations of the possible… how can I not imagine more? How can I not envision an epic set somewhere other than medieval England, about someone other than an awkward white boy? How can I not use every building-block of my history and heritage and imagination when I make shit up?

And how dare I disrespect that history, profane all my ancestors’ suffering and struggles, by giving up the freedom to imagine that they’ve won for me.” 

― N.K. Jemisin

“True peace required the presence of justice, not just the absence of conflict.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Killing Moon

“But there are none so frightened, or so strange in their fear, as conquerors. They conjure phantoms endlessly, terrified that their victims will someday do back what was done to them—even if, in truth, their victims couldn’t care less about such pettiness and have moved on. Conquerors live in dread of the day when they are shown to be, not superior, but simply lucky.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Stone Sky

“They’re afraid because we exist, she says. There’s nothing we did to provoke their fear, other than exist. There’s nothing we can do to earn their approval, except stop existing – so we can either die like they want, or laugh at their cowardice and go on with our lives.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Stone Sky

“This means, in a way, that true light is dependent on the presence of other lights. Take the others away and darkness results. Yet the reverse is not true: take away darkness and there is only more darkness. Darkness can exist by itself. Light cannot.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Broken Kingdoms

“The priest's lesson: beware the Nightlord, for his pleasure is a mortal's doom. My grandmother's lesson: beware love, especially with the wrong man.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“You are what your creators and experiences have made you, like every other being in this universe. Accept that and be done; I tire of your whining.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“Being useful to others is not the same thing as being equal.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Obelisk Gate

“Well, some worlds are built on a fault line of pain, held up by nightmares. Don’t lament when those worlds fall. Rage that they were built doomed in the first place.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Stone Sky

“This is why she hates Alabaster: not because he is more powerful, not even because he is crazy, but because he refuses to allow her any of the polite fictions and unspoken truths that have kept her comfortable, and safe, for years.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

“But for a society build on exploitation, there is no greater threat than having no one left to oppress.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Stone Sky

“Love betrayed has an entirely different sound from hatred outright.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Broken Kingdoms

“When we say “the world has ended,” it’s usually a lie, because the planet is just fine. But this is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. For the last time.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

“You're very lucky... Friends are precious, powerful things - hard to earn, harder still to keep. You should thank this one for taking a chance on you.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Broken Kingdoms

“But if you stay, no part of this comm gets to decide that any part of this comm is expendable. No voting on who gets to be people.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Obelisk Gate

“We aren't human."

"Yes. We. Are." His voice turns fierce. "I don't give a shit what the something-somethingth council of big important farts decreed, or how the geomests classify things, or any of that. That we're not human is just the lie they tell themselves so they don't have to feel bad about how they treat us.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

“...and when I lift my head to scream out my fury, a million stars turn black and die. No one can see them, but they are my tears.” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“So here is why I write what I do: We all have futures. We all have pasts. We all have stories. And we all, every single one of us, no matter who we are and no matter what’s been taken from us or what poison we’ve internalized or how hard we’ve had to work to expel it –

– we all get to dream.” 

― N.K. Jemisin

Once upon a time there was a Once upon a time there was a Once upon a time there was a Stop this. It's undignified. 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

“Any woman can face the world alone, but why should we have to?” 

― N.K. Jemisin, The Shadowed Sun

via wikipedia | goodreads 

[paradoxicalpondering]

There will be bluebirds

Nb. This piece was written as part of my final University submission.

The sickness is swirling in my stomach; it seems to roll over and over again as if I am falling thousands of feet from a plane but if that were the case, eventually I’d hit the ground. This feels like it will never end. All I hear is lethargic but still forceful retching; it highlights the cacophony of unsettling noises that monotonously reverberate around me. We all wear the same dark uniforms, united for the same cause but I don’t know these men. They may be friendly and some may still stretch a smile across their weary cheeks, but I don’t know them.

It surprises me how only now, only at this moment, have I begun to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. It had sounded like the most exciting thing in the world when I was told about the opportunity. Pictures had been painted to me of how fantastic England was: the rolling hills, the vast green lands and, of course, the white cliffs of Dover. Life at home was just getting that little bit boring; I suppose I’d reached that age when the ache for freedom and independence becomes almost unbearable. My mother’s voice had become a massive irritation: ‘Don’t leave that there, Jade,’ ‘Make sure you are in safe by 8, Jade.’ Mighty irritating. I didn’t tell them that I was going to leave; it just hadn’t seemed like a grand idea. I knew that they would try to stop me, that they just wouldn’t, couldn’t, understand. At this moment in time, as the waters get ever more violent and the blanket of cold darkness seems to expand to become inescapable, I wish they would, could, try to stop me.

*

Training had been minimal; in fact practically non existent for what slowly I was appreciating was going to be an immense task. We were only informed of the basics and that this would be a pivotal moment in the grand scheme of things but not of what to expect, what we would see. They droned on a lot about the work and skill that had gone into the equipment, how effective it was going to be and how apparently, a decoy had been sent so we shouldn’t encounter too much resistance. It had all sounded very straightforward and we were all very excited, we were thrilled to travel, to see a new country. I didn’t have any cause for concern.

We spent the few days prior to today in a tiny little hamlet on the southern coast. It was a dream and left me completely satisfied by the beauty of England that I had hoped to see. All of us camped out on a big cricket field for those few nights; they were warm evenings which made me feel less far from home, although I couldn’t get much further. There was a disco on the Saturday night, in a little village hall and there were many beautiful English girls in bright dresses with big skirts. They seemed so happy to see us; I suppose the time had been hard for them too. I made friends with the girl I considered the most beautiful, her skin the colour of the sweetest cream and just as smooth, plump lips of a subtle crimson. Then, it felt like the hardest thing in the world to string a sentence together, getting the words in the right order, getting the right words at all.

I know if I stood in front of her now, I would have the fluency of a poet, the courage of a lion. Nothing seemed harder than what I was facing right at this moment and I consider that he who reads this may not understand just yet. It was simply the oppression; I had never felt a fear of such an overwhelming power. I felt as though I had a hugely overfed boa constrictor slowly caressing my entire body and then gradually gripping until there is no breath left in my lungs, no moisture on my lips. It was the noise too, the sound of sickness was now not overpowering but the sound of something heavy falling into water in the distance. Almost like someone was throwing stones at us, but not pebbles; boulders. I watched a few of the senior chaps huddle together, leaning on each other to keep upright and then chatting in hushed but urgent voices. Others lay lifeless on the floor, overcome by vomiting, fear and fatigue. I sensed that whatever we were to face was coming soon; it was still a little too dark to see to confirm that though. I crouched down and sat on my feet, curled as tightly as possible and cradled my head in my hands. This helped to steady my stomach and calm my buzzing nerves. The sounds surged but I was growing numb, numb until the first words were shouted of the long journey.

“Listen up, all of you. The time is near and you must prepare yourself. Do not lose any of your things. Under no circumstances should you part with them. We had come to understand that we were to encounter little trouble but I’m afraid it ain’t looking good, lads. Just do what you can and remember how important this is.”

At the conclusion of the speech, he turned away from us and although many ran to his back and begged for information, for reassurance, he refused to face them and with that his ears ignored their pleas. I felt something wasn’t right but it was only when the noise of things hitting the water came closer and the noises were accompanied by fire. I felt a rush in my stomach and emptied the minimal contents of it onto my sodden boots. Uncontrollable shivers racked my whole body and my eyes, slowly reacting to the light, saw the end for the first time. I scanned the cliff top and saw it swelling with the bodies of thousands of men, ready for us, waiting. Time vacated me as the torso of a man in front of me, fell back. I thought he must have fainted in fear until I felt the unnatural warmth on my hands and observed the gaping gun-shot wound in his back. I instinctively fell to the floor, arms over my head and my ears reverberated with screams, shots and thuds, no one sound pronounced in the deafening melee. The craft lodged in the sand and as I tried to run forward, I stood on something soft and looked down to see a man under foot. Men everywhere. Soulless corpses strewn across the sand. Bodies bobbing on the water. With another sound of a bullet soaring through the air, the red flooded my eyes and the noises finally stopped. If only they would, if only they could, help me now.

[thetechnicallylegendary]

A Supernaturally Good Omens Wedding

Sitting at a little pastry shop in France, Crowley realized something. After 6,000 years, the Armageddon that wasn’t, and trials by both angels and demons, he had no idea what he would do if he lost Aziraphale. During the end of the world he tried multiple time to get him to run away with him, so he didn’t have to imagine life, no, existence, without him (cause if Aziraphale wasn’t with him it wasn’t living). But every time he brought leaving up, Aziraphale would immediately shut it down, “No, Crowley. We have to find a away to stop it, not run away from it.”  After all the hufflebuff of the end of the world, they still had to cover their arses, both knowing that there would be hell to pay for not letting either side go to war with each other. During all that time, Crowley tried to push out the one thought that kept coming in, what would have happened if he couldn’t protect Aziraphale? If something happened and he wasn’t there for him? Hell, when he thought that his angle went up in that bookshop, he lost it, only being saved when Aziraphale popped into the pub that he was sulking in to snap him out of it.  So, in the sunshine of the spring, with thousands of people bustling around, Crowley knew what he had to do. “Angel,” he said to get Aziraphale’s attention, “what would you say if I asked you to marry me?” Aziraphale, who was busy enjoying his second love of his life, crepes, stops midair, his fork hanging in the air, his mouth open, shock written across his face. Aziraphale slowly closes his mouth and sets his fork down, not breaking eye contact with Crowley. “I- I’m sorry, what did you say?” he stutters out. Crowley smirks, knowing he caught his angel off guard, “I said, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?” Clearing his throat Aziraphale replies, “Well, if you were to actually propose, I can’t see why I would say no, I’ve already spent all of my life with you, it’s not like it would be much different from how we have been living as it is.” Crowley expected this answer, prepared for it actually, so he had backup questions to ask Aziraphale, “You know we would be living together, of course we can figure out who wants to move where, I can always make space for your books and such in my apartment or you could clean out a space in the clutter of the shop for me.” That didn’t seem to bother Aziraphale, “Of course, it would be nice to have you around more often anyway, I always feel safe when you’re around.” Crowley nodded his head slightly, “And you would have to get used to my house plants being around, we’re a package deal.”

“I’ve been thinking about bringing in some plants myself, add some color to the wallpaper.” “Already thinking about moving me in with you I see.”

“Not intentionally, just stating a fact.”

“And you would have you kiss me, in front of all the guests at the wedding.”

That made Aziraphale pause for a moment. Of course, they have kissed before, that isn’t what startled him, being the celestial being that he is he has never been one on public displays of affection, not seeing it as a bad thing, just as a unnecessary action, “Ok, that’s tradition right? Sealing the vows with a kiss? Not a problem.”

“And we would have to consummate the marriage, tradition and all.” Crowley smirked. He knew that Aziraphale had never done the deed. He was the purest being you would have ever met, not a blemish on him. Of course, after all their time down on earth, you can’t really call him entirely celestial anymore, the human had rubbed off onto him, causing some changes to pop up. Aziraphale reacted as Crowley might have expected, his face turning bright red and his forehead getting a light sheen onto it. “Well that’s one way to get him hot and bothered.” Crowley thought to himself with a smirk. “W-w-well, it’s not that I have any objections that it being you that I would be doing that with, it’s just that, well, I don’t want to sound pathetic to you, but-“

Crowley stops Aziraphale before he can even finish his sentence, his face becoming serious, “Angel don’t ever think for one second that I find you pathetic, I know who you are and where you have come from, I didn’t expect anything less. I just couldn’t resist seeing you turn red.” Crowley says with a smirk coming back to his face.

Aziraphale, for the first time since this conversation started, smiles slightly before going back to what he was saying, “You would have to be gentle with me, I don’t know how much more, experienced you are than I am.” Crowley kept smirking, not enlightening his angel on that piece of information. Changing the subject Crowley asked, “Ok, well, we have to have witnesses, but we don’t seem to have the biggest fan club right now so who do you want to invite to the wedding?” Aziraphale paused for moment, “You are being serious about this aren’t you? I thought it was just another one of your jokes to rile me up” Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand from his lap where it has been resting and placed it on his heart. There he could feel the rapid pulse quicken with each beat, “Angel, I’ve never been more serious about anything gin my whole life. Marry me. Spend the rest of your life with me and I promise you will never regret a second of it.” Crowley could always predict what his angel would do before he did it, but not this time, cause the next thing that Crowley knew, Aziraphale was kissing him, in public, leaning into his crepe. When Aziraphale pulled back there was a bright smile plastered on his face, “Well, there is someone that I think wouldn’t mind coming to the ceremony. I haven’t talked to him in a while though, he went rouge a while back and hasn’t reported back to the main office since.” Crowley met his angel’s smile with just as much light, ���Well, send him an invite and let’s hope for the best.

           Over in America, where none of the average citizens had any idea what had taken place in England, a group of three men had just gotten back to what they considered home after an exponentially difficult hunting trip.  “Dean, I had that vamp! If you would have just let me finish it, we wouldn’t have been stuck with the rest of the nest! But no, Dean had to be the macho hero and take charge.” Sam exclaimed as the entered the bunker covered in dirt and vampire blood. Team Freewill had just take on a nest of about 40 vampires, not knowing exactly who the original creator was. “Sam, you didn’t even have the right one! That was just a creepy guy that the chick turned to cover herself! It was the redhead in the green jumpsuit. Who in their right name wears a jumper in November? Someone who doesn’t feel the cold, that’s who!” Dean always did have the eye for fashion out of the three of them. As the two brothers continued to bicker at each other, Castiel made his way over to the table in what would be considered the study area. On top of the table was a perfectly white envelope. As Castiel opened the envelope, he immediately recognized who the letter was from. Inscribed in the letter was the following:

Castiel,

If you don’t mind, your presence is requested in London for the union of myself to Mr. Crowley. If it fits your convenience, the location will be at the bookstore that I own in Soho, Wednesday 14, 2019, Noon. Bring your friends if you would like.

Thank you,

Aziraphale.

To say that Castiel was surprised would be a lie, he knew that those two would end up together. They made disobedience popular, always lying to Michael and Beelzebub about what was actually happening between the two of them. Of course, Cas would also be lying if he said that they didn’t give him courage to follow how he feels towards a certain Winchester. Speaking of, the brothers had noticed that the angel that they have grown to call a brother had disappeared while they were bickering. “Cas?” Dean called, not sure where his angel had went. “In here Dean.” Cas called back. Dean led the way into the study, find Cas reading over what looked to be letter, “Whatcha got there Cas? Letter from the President asking for some heavenly assistance in running the country?” Dean asked walking around to look over Cas’s shoulder. “No, a couple of friends of mine are getting married in London. They invited me to the wedding.” Dean and Sam shared a glance as Cas continued to look at the letter. “Like friends from the pearly gates?” Dean asked. “Well one is, the other is from Hell.” That took the brothers by shock as well. At their silence Cas looked up from the letter to see the looks that were being passed between the two of them, “What? One is an Angel and the other was one for a while. Politics got in his way and he sauntered down from Heaven. Let’s say he helped me while I was struggling with who I should side with, Heaven or you guys.” Cas explained. Still shocked that Cas had friends that he never talked about, Dean decided that it wasn’t the weirdest thing that has happened to them, “Well ok, when’s the wedding and will they have pie?” Cas looked back down at the letter, “Four days from now, plenty of time to get the three of us over there.” “Whoa Cas, are they gonna be ok with us going with you? They don’t know us.” Sam asked leaning against the table. “They know you Sam. You all are well known among the Angel and Demon communities.” Dean just laughed and shook his head, “Well then, what’s the happy couples name?” “Aziraphale and Crowley. Not our Crowley, this one is just as annoying and pompous, but he means well by it.”  Dean continues to laugh as he shakes his head at Cas’ words, “Looks like we’re going wedding gift shopping. Get the champagne and lace ready boys. We’re going to London.”

[galactibabe]

The Night Comes Down - A Brian May Comfort Fic

Pairing: Brian May x f!reader (but as pals)

Warnings: slight angst, light swearing, alcohol consumption, talk of suicide/self-harm

A/N: I’m having a garbage time and I just need Bri to tell me he’s happy I’m alive.. This is set after BoRhap won their Globes. 

Word Count: 1.65k

You went home with Brian after the Globes, but not for the reason you’ve wanted to since you fell for him all those years ago.

He spotted you, sitting alone, clutching your second glass of wine, looking at the floor and quietly letting the tears fall. His heart just couldn’t let him walk away from you in this extremely vulnerable position, and he knew you trusted him to never judge your emotional days.

He slowly approached you, sitting next to you and leaning his head to your ear to talk over the crowd of people. “Are you alright, love?” he clearly hadn’t noticed you crying, he had only seen you sitting alone. When you looked up to him, your mascara running and your face red, it damn near broke his heart. You didn’t respond, just choked out a small sob, and he set his phone in his lap, pulling you into his chest. He rested his head on yours, rubbing your back, simply letting you cry into his jacket.

“I- I can’t...” you began, clutching the lapels of his suit jacket. He shushed you, sensing you were crumbling right beneath his fingertips and not wanting you to continue hurting yourself even more by talking about your situation.

He ran a hand over your hair, taking a glance around the room to make sure none of the cast were coming around. You had recently become friends with them and he knew you didn’t want them to think of you in a negative light. They had just brought home two stellar awards for the film, you didn’t want them to think you were ruining the night by falling apart in the corner of the room, with Dr. Brian May as your tissue box.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah? It’s late, let me take you home, make sure you’re alright?” He pulled away from you, still with your hand grasping his jacket, knuckles white from how tight you were holding on, and used his thumb to attempt to wipe away your tears. They kept coming, though they were a bit slower now from his heartfelt gestures. You gave him a small nod and he patted your cheek. “Wait here, I’ll get a car around, say goodbye to everyone. I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and that I’m making sure you get home safe.” You smiled for the first time since you sat down, “That’s not entirely false... thank you, Bri..” He leaned down and briefly kissed the top of your head, rubbing his thumb on your shoulder and leaving you.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell apart again, feeling your only support beam disappear. He wasn’t going to get a car, he wasn’t saying goodbye to the others, he was leaving you here because he was far too old to be dealing with this. The thoughts swirled around your head, your vision blurred from your tears, and your head hung low once again. Your mascara was no longer existent from the crying, any foundation on your cheeks washed away as well.

You looked up and saw Lucy in your vicinity. I can’t let her see me like this, she’ll think I’m such a downer. But just when you thought she’d turn and see you, Brian came into view again, holding her elbow and laughing with her. He leaned down and spoke in her ear. Pulling back, she smiled, hugged him, and turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

Brian made his way over to you, pulling a tissue from his pocket and leaning down to wipe the new tears from your cheeks that had made their appearance after he had left to do exactly what he said he would. “Gwil’s staying with me at my place here in LA, but he’s not coming back with us, okay? With how much he looks like me, I’m not his father and it’s not my responsibility to take him home when I leave.” The joke made you laugh, it sounding like a sob but your smile betraying the sound. He stood, taking your hand in his, happy enough he could bring you a bit of joy in these moments and snuck you both out the back door of the room, bringing you to the car out front like he’d promised.

Ever the gentleman he was, opening the door for you and scooping up the small train of your dress as you sat down, placing it on top of your feet so it wouldn’t get caught in the door after he shut it. Getting in the driver’s seat, he slowly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, resting his hand on yours for the journey. It wasn’t romantic in the least, he was happily married, but he was taking care of you in a way you desperately needed. You didn’t care what the label for it was, there was simply pure love in the gesture and you knew you’d never be able to thank him enough for it. 

Soon, you arrived in his driveway. A simple, quaint home for when he spent long periods in the area, whether it be for recording, media days, award shows like tonight, or other things of the sort. He had told you it made more sense financially to buy a small house than spend money on hotel rooms every time he came out this way, which was quite a lot lately. He also didn’t mind the weather contrast to England. It almost became a sort of vacation home for he and Anita to come relax when the rain got to be overwhelming. Family photos lined the walls, of both his kids, grandkids, and Queen. He considered them as much a part of his family as his wife. 

He walked you into the master bedroom in silence, making your face go red at how many times you’d had those thoughts about him. He gestured for you to sit on the bed as he opened a couple drawers, rummaging through what you soon found out to be his and Anita’s things, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a shirt so you didn’t have to stay in the dress all night. Your “thank you” came out almost as a whisper, but he gave a small sound of acknowledgement and continued to pull out more clothes, you’d guessed for himself. Slowly, you made your way into the master bath, admiring the beautifully clean white tile and porcelain sink, and changed into the clothes. 

You came out, with your dress folded in your arms, legs of the sweatpants coming fully over your feet. The sight made Brian laugh, and you swear you’d seen the face of a man in his 30′s again breaking through for that split second. “Look at you! Roll those up, safety, my dear.” he wagged a finger at you, still smiling. These sweats were definitely his. The legs so long that you could sew the ends and turn them into feety-pajamas. You set your dress down and he pat the space on the bed in front of him, “Now, come tell me what’s bothering you, yeah?”

The both of you sat opposite one another, legs crossed, knees touching, his hand resting on yours whenever you had said something that really hurt. He never once interrupted you. He only spoke when you asked him why everyone in your life had left you, why everyone seemed to get tired of you so easily, why you were always a second choice or not even a choice at all. You poured your heart and soul out to Brian through tears that could choke you if you hadn’t been told to breathe by him every few pauses you took. So much so, that you’d admitted to wanting to hurt yourself, to disappear for good, to save everyone else the time they’d be wasting with you. 

That broke him. 

Your eyes flicked up to his, and a single tear fell down his cheek. The thought of losing such a dear friend again? He reached over and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tighter than anyone ever had in your entire life. You felt, if he squeezed you hard enough, all the pieces of your damaged soul would be forced to go back together. He held you, then. For what seemed like hours, but was barely one. The silence spoke volumes. He cared for you in a way you couldn’t understand. More than a friend, but less than a lover. A comfortable, caring space in between. 

Then, he finally spoke. “I’m so sorry...” he gripped you a little tighter, rubbing his hand over your back, wrapping his other hand in your hair. “I’m so deeply sorry that life’s put such a lovely soul like yours, well, through the ringer. You bring so much light to our little family, and having you around truly is a blessing.. I’m so proud of you for still being with us. I’m so happy that you’re still here. You are stronger than you know, love.” he pulled back afterwards, bringing his hand to your cheek and kissing your forehead. He wiped away your tears for the hundredth time tonight, but this time they didn’t fall again. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, him rubbing your back softly, lowly humming what sounded like ‘39 to calm your spirits.

He patted your knee after a bit and moved to get up, forcing you to sit upright. “Tea?” he asked with an outstretched hand. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen, drinking in sweet silence until Gwilym stumbled in through the front door, absolutely sloshed. Sharing soft laughter at his entrance, you helped him care for Gwil and eventually took your place on the plush sofa. The smell of honey and the muffled sounds of Gwil’s light snoring in the room upstairs to lull you to sleep.

[shookethbrooketh]

stars

chapter 10

they looked into each other’s eyes for a split second, and dan caught a glimpse of phil’s eyes. he’d grown used to them, and it was the first time since they’d first met that he’d truly taken in the beauty of his eyes. even in the dark, he could see the yellow glint that shone through the blues and greens he knew blended into the tiny orbs in front of him.

summary: dan grew up in a normal 1930s london family with his parents and little brother. everything was completely and utterly normal… until the bombs started dropping. When dan was fifteen his father went off to war, and when he was sixteen he and his brother hayden were sent off to a foster family in rural england. he looked up at the stars and couldn’t help but wonder how something that beautiful could exist in such a broken world. just when he thought things would never get better, dan met phil, and he became the shining star of his life. but when phil turned eighteen and went off to war, dan couldn’t help but wonder when, if ever, the stars would twinkle the same way again.

rating: t

genre: angst, fluff, history au, strangers to lovers, teenagers

whole fic warnings: warfare (not descriptive), bombings, fire, panic attacks, ptsd, seizures, homophobia, death chapter warnings: panic attack, ptsd 

chapter word count: 2.2k total word count: 14.5k

read it on ao3 read it on wattpad fic masterlist

“I can’t believe you managed to fall out of a tree, get bitten by fire ants, and break an entire toenail in a matter of fifteen minutes,” Phil laughed as he walked into Dan’s room with a breakfast tray the next morning.

“Don’t remind me,” Dan joked, rolling his eyes. He’d been awake for a while, but his foot had swelled to almost double its size, and he couldn’t bear to put any weight on it. “Thanks,” he added sincerely as Phil set the tray on his lap.

Phil flung himself on the bed beside Dan and grinned cheekily at him. “First day of Spring Break. What do you want to do?”

Dan was a bit taken aback by this. “It’s your last year! You haven’t made any plans with your friends?”

“Nope! You’re the only friend I want to hang out with this spring break. Besides, there’s two weeks of it! If we get sick of each other by the end of the week, I can spend next week with my friends.”

“Jeez,” Dan said, stopping to think about it. “I think I’d go mad if you left for a week.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“There really isn’t much of a plan; I can’t even walk!” Dan said.

A puzzled look appeared on Phil’s face. “This is true.” He turned abruptly and left Dan’s room, leaving him to burst out laughing at the impromptu exit. “I’ll be back!” he heard Phil say as he made his way down the hallway.

Dan sighed and took a bite of his toast. He definitely wanted to spend spring break with Phil, but he could barely move, and as much as he loved sitting by the radio with Phil, he didn’t want to do it for--however long it took to heal fire ant bites.

“Hey, Dan!” Phil said, peering his head into Dan’s room. Dan jumped, almost knocking over his glass of milk. “Sorry,” Phil said, chuckling as his cheeks blushed a bit. “Mum sent me with some ice for your foot. Said it’ll make the swelling go down.” Phil set the ice pack down on his foot, and an icy, wet rush of pain shot through him. He winced, and Phil immediately went wide-eyed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, peachy keen,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry...” he trailed off, glancing to Dan’s empty tray. “I’ll take that downstairs for you and be right back!” he said with a smile.

After he left, Dan took a deep breath and calmed himself from the pain of the cold on his foot. He could tell Phil felt horrible about what happened to him, and he couldn’t help but feel bad about it himself. It wasn’t Phil’s fault Dan decided to shove his foot in a mysterious hole in a tree.

Dan heard Phil’s footsteps coming up the stairs, and a moment later he was back in his doorway. “Do you want to do something?”

Dan just stared at him for a moment before cracking a smile. “Do what?”

“I don’t know...” Phil said, rubbing his toe into the carpet. “Listen to the radio?”

“Sure, but it’ll take me a while to get down the stairs.”

Phil contemplated that, biting his lip a bit. “I can carry you?”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Carry me? Phil, we’re practically the same weight.”

“Come on, jump on my back!”

He walked over to the side of the bed where Dan was sitting and leaned over, exposing his back for Dan to climb onto. Dan raised an eyebrow at this, even though Phil couldn’t see it. “Are you sure about this?”

Phil nodded, and Dan pushed his weight onto Phil’s back. He heard a grunt from underneath him as Phil bent to a position Dan was confident human spines weren’t supposed to, and Phil straighted up, Dan clinging on for dear life. “I cannot believe this is actually working.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Phil said, grinning as he made his way slowly down the steps. After about thirty seconds, they reached the living room, and Phil slung Dan down in his usual chair.

“Ouch! I’m a human being, not a rag doll.”

“Suck it up; you’re a big boy,” Phil said absentmindedly as he turned on the radio to their favorite jazz station.

The two sat in silence listening to the radio for hours, with only the occasional conversation. Hayden popped in once or twice wanting to go play outside and then immediately remembering Dan was immobile for the day and leaving, appearing disappointed. In all honesty, Dan was bored out of his mind, but even just having Phil’s presence made the day a bit less miserable, so he wouldn’t even think of mentioning his boredom. Phil even brought him lunch and carried him to the dinner table and back. All these gestures didn’t exactly help him fall out of love with Phil, but they sure did help him get through the day.

The sun had set, Dan was full from dinner, and he was sitting in his armchair, fully content with his day. Jazz played in the background, filling out his warm, cozy world.

But then the jazz suddenly stopped.

“We interrupt your program to bring you breaking news from London.” Dan leaned forward in his chair and glanced at Phil, both of them immediately alert. “We’ve just received word that bombs have fallen on the city for the first time in over a month; if the current pattern continues, it may very well be the worst bombing since the Second Great Fire of London on 29 December of last year.”

The man kept talking, but Dan didn’t hear him. Dan only heard the sounds of bombs falling and foundations rattling. His warm, jazzy haven had been destroyed by the explosives dropping on his previous home. It was as if every horrific memory he’d ever had from the city was rushing back into him at once along with fear for his mother’s life, and it was overwhelming him.

Dan’s eyes darted wildly around the room, and everything was shaking. The chandelier on the ceiling was rattling from the bombs he heard overhead, and Phil was in front of him, bobbing up and down along with the rest of the house.

“No-no-no-no-” Dan mumbled in between rushed breaths, his body rocking back and forth.

“Dan!” He heard a shout off in the distance. It sounded like Phil, but Phil was standing right in front of him. More explosions went off, and they sounded closer than the last.

“Not here. Not here too!”

“Dan! Come on, let’s get you out of here!” Phil picked Dan up and slung him over his shoulder, carrying him outside into the cool April darkness.

“No! We can’t go outside! The bombs! Hayden!”

“It’s okay, Dan, it’s okay.” Phil said, his breaths speeding up as well as he ran to dump Dan in the passenger seat of his truck.

Dan looked around the vehicle for a moment before hearing another blast go off. He shrieked and attempted to hide himself under the glove box, the small area acting as his only protection from the bombs falling all around him. He heard a door open, and then Phil was in the driver’s seat beside him. “Get up, Dan, it’s okay.”

“We shouldn’t be here. We’re going to get hurt.”

“No we’re not, Dan.” Another bomb went off, but it sounded more distant. “I promise.”

“But-the bombs-” Dan eked out, his voice rattling.

“There are no bombs. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

When he heard that, it was as if Dan snapped out of a trance, but the remnants still made him feel queasy. “There’s no bombs?” he asked, the sounds of the explosions having disappeared.

“Nope. Not here, at least.”

Dan took a deep breath and climbed back into the seat. He looked down at his shaking hands and then over to Phil, who was halfway up the hill towards the tree.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. Just try to relax yourself back into the real world.”

Dan looked around, taking in the minor details of the truck’s dashboard and watching the blades of grass become illuminated by the headlights. Everything seemed to be moving slower than it was supposed to.

Dan felt a lurch as Phil stopped the truck by the tree and got out. Dan opened the door and hopped out himself, immediately feeling a sharp pain in his foot. “Ah!” He jumped on his other foot and put all his weight back against the truck. “Fuck. I forgot about my foot. I think it’s just covered in blisters now, and they did not enjoy that.”

“Here,” Phil said, picking Dan up and carrying him over to the truck bed he didn’t notice Phil open. The surface was cold and hard, but Dan was still content solely because his view was of the stars.

Phil climbed up on the bed beside him and turned his head to face him. “Are you alright? That was really scary.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I guess,” he said, trying his best not to think about it. “Do you ever look up at the stars and realize that they’re all already dead?”

“What?” Phil asked, in an outburst of laughter.

“The light takes so long to reach us that there’s a good chance that most of them have already exploded. Burned out. We just can’t see them yet.”

“That’s dark.”

“I learned it in science last year.”

“Apparently your London schools are better than ours.”

They sat in silence for a moment. “But really, do you ever look up at the stars and realize that they’re the same stars that are shining over London right now? The stars we look up at and marvel at the beauty of are the same stars that you’d see in London right now after this tragedy, if there was a bit less light and a bit less smoke. That-that did happen, right?” Dan turned to look at Phil, and he nodded. Dan felt a pang in his chest; he was really hoping it was all part of the hallucination. “Can you believe that?”

“The stars?” Dan nodded. “Yeah, I can. I always try to remember to, honestly. Reminds me how small the world truly is. Brings me down to earth, I guess.”

There was another moment’s silence, each of them lying on their backs and gazing up at the stars.

“I’m cold,” Dan randomly said. “Why is it cold in April?”

“Do you want to go inside?”

Dan sat up and glanced down at the house, and he couldn’t help but remember the night’s earlier trauma. “Not really.”

Phil paused, appearing in thought. “Do you want my jacket? I was cold after dinner so I put one on.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh well,” he said, taking off his jacket and putting it around Dan’s shoulders. Dan hesitantly slid his arms through the sleeves, and he immediately felt Phil’s warmth around him.

“Thanks.”

“You know you’re going to have to go back down there eventually, right?” Phil asked, rolling over to face Dan.

Dan turned to face him. “We’ve only been here for ten minutes!”

“Still.”

Dan sighed. “I know. I just...” he trailed off, not even sure what to say. “It’s got bad memories now. You wouldn’t understand.”

He tried to roll back over, but Phil grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Of course I do. I don’t have memories like yours, but I do have bad memories. I mean, do you really think I’m ready to go back to the Easter egg hunt next year?” Dan chuckled, but he still refused to make eye contact with Phil.

“I don’t know anymore. It’s just been so long.”

“I know. No news is good news.”

“Exactly. They waited until London let their guard down and then they struck. Everyone in the city had gone back to their lives; they’d repressed the memories, just as I had. If that happened to me, I can’t even begin to imagine what happened to them...or to my mum...”

By this point, Dan was struggling to hold back tears, and Phil took immediate notice. “Dan...” he whispered, pulling him closer with the sound of clothing scraping against the truck bed.

In Phil’s arms, Dan finally broke. “I was doing so well!” he bawled into Phil’s shoulder. “E-everything has been so g-great for the last few months, a-and now I’m f-f-f-f-falling apart.”

“It’s okay, Dan. It’s only human.” Phil let Dan sob into his shirt for a while. Eventually the tears ceased and Dan raised his head, finding himself a mere inch or two from Phil’s face. Phil pressed his forehead against Dan’s. “You’re okay. You’re safe here.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a split second, and Dan caught a glimpse of Phil’s eyes. He’d grown used to them, and it was the first time since they’d first met that he’d truly taken in the beauty of his eyes. Even in the dark, he could see the yellow glint that shone through the blues and greens he knew blended into the tiny orbs in front of him. And then, suddenly, under the array of stars, their lips connected.

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

Au Cafe Pequod, Chapter Nine and Epilogue

Previous Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight

ORADOUR-SUR-GLANE, HAUTE-VIENNE, FRANCE LATE MAY, 1944

Under any other circumstances, Mulder would have found that spring, the months after his and Scully's secret marriage, to be a time of unabated bliss. The weather is fine, the countryside around him is beautiful, and he spends nearly every evening alone with a woman so perfect, Pygmalion himself could not have dreamed her into existence. With the first difficult months of her pregnancy behind her, Scully is entirely suffused in a healthy glow, her hair shining and her pale skin luminous. Her belly remains relatively flat, even as she is about to begin the fifth month, with what little roundness there is hidden easily by her voluminous work skirt and apron. It's a relief to both of them, as it has bought them some time to prepare for their next step. Scully has begun selling more of her extra butter and cream, rather than trading for goods, and has been slowly decreasing the size of her menu. She claims to her patrons that the food shortages are beginning to affect her at last, but in truth, she is hiding the money away. A bag sits packed in her bedroom wardrobe, ready to go at a moment's notice.

Before Scully's pregnancy has the chance to begin to show, she and Mulder are leaving.

Mulder has had Frohike pay a contact to forge French identification papers for him. With his perfect, unaccented French, he can easily pass for a native-born Frenchman. He has also paid for a new set of papers for Scully, under a different name, in case an arrest warrant is put out for her once she disappears. They have set a definite departure date- June fifteenth- but both are ready to leave immediately should the need arise.

They do not discuss their plans often, however, because Scully is completely destroyed by the idea of leaving her beloved cafe, not to mention her mother's farm, to be taken over by the Nazis. She and Mulder are both well aware that once they disappear, Oberst Spender will first ransack her home in search of evidence, and then, most likely, divide up the spoils amongst his men. She has packed what few priceless possessions can be carried easily- her parents' wedding photograph, pictures of herself and her siblings growing up, her father's love letters to her mother, her brothers' letters from sea- but still, many family heirlooms will be left behind. And no family heirloom is more precious to her than the Cafe Pequod.

Mulder wishes badly that they could chance telling someone in the village of their departure, some trusted friend who will take over the running of both the farm and the cafe, but he and Scully have agreed that it would be too risky. The only people who know all of their their plans- including their marriage and Scully's pregnancy- are Frohike, Langly, and Byers, who will meet them at a prearranged place on the night of June fifteenth. They are in daily contact now, with the time of departure so close, so that if Mulder and Scully need to change their plans, to move the date, their friends will be prepared.

Hauptmann Skinner is aware that Mulder and Scully will be leaving soon, but that's the extent of his knowledge. Mulder had debated telling him more, but Skinner himself had demurred, insisting that the less he knows, the better. Even without knowing about Scully's impending motherhood, Skinner has no trouble understanding why Mulder feels he must leave, and leave soon. The atmosphere around them- the sense of waiting, of foreboding, of flat-out dread- speaks for itself. There is only one topic of conversation in the camp these days.

Invasion.

They know it's coming. It is inevitable that, at some point, Allied forces will cross the English Channel and attack the German-held beaches of France. Mulder knows, from the rumors that abound- which Skinner has confirmed- that intelligence believes it will be very, very soon. And when it happens, their regiment will cease to be part of an occupying force and will instead become part of a defending army. The regiment will likely be sent west, to the new front, into what is sure to be a long and bloody battle. There is every possibility Mulder will not return. It's a possibility that would have been horrific enough to Scully a few months ago, but now, it's a chance they cannot afford to take. Mulder is adamant: he will be with Scully to see their child into the world.

With the Allied invasion so clearly on the horizon, activity within the Resistance has ramped up considerably. Scully is no longer seeing as many Allied pilots- they're being dropped well north of Oradour-Sur-Glane, in anticipation of the beaches being attacked, and the Resistance is trying to keep them in the area so they'll meet up with the invading forces- but with the German army's attention focused so intently on the west, more and more refugees are taking advantage of the smaller numbers of troops in the south and east, and are making their way to Spain and Switzerland. The non-military refugees, as a rule, are not often injured and as such do not typically pass through Scully's apartment, but her help is still necessary to organize their transport. She is in church often, passing messages to the priest, and when she is not there, she's out at her mother's farm, talking to the farm hands, or in her kitchen, baking endless pies. Mulder worries that she's overexerting herself, but he knows well enough how she'll react if he suggests that she slow down. He consoles himself with the knowledge that, in barely two weeks, they will be on their way to a place where all of this will no longer be Scully's responsibility.

The plan, at this point, is to move in the opposite direction of the fleeing refugees Scully is helping to hide, and to make their way north and west, towards the new front that will be opened any day now. They will slip behind the advancing Allied troops and travel to Calais, then try to find transportation across the channel to England, where they will meet up with Maggie Scully, if she is still there. If they are caught by Allied soldiers, they will identify themselves as Resistance, which should guarantee their safe passage. If they are caught by Germans, they will show their forged identification papers and claim to be a married couple on their way to fetch Mulder's elderly mother and escort her east, away from the coming conflict. It's not a foolproof plan, but it's the best they've been able to come up with.

--------

On the evening of June third, as the cafe is emptying out for the night, a dark-haired man in civilian clothing strides through the door and approaches Scully at the register. He's not someone Mulder has seen before, which is unusual in a town this small. By the look on Scully's face, she doesn't know him, either.

"I want to place an order for a pie," he says brusquely, and Scully nods, reaching for her ever-present notepad.

"What kind would you like?" she asks politely. If she's thrown off by the man's manner, she doesn't show it.

"Cherry," he says. "To feed three people." Scully writes this down.

"And when do you need it by?" she asks.

"By the thirteenth of June," says the man. Scully raises her eyebrows.

"That's quite a distance in the future," she remarks.

"Will that be a problem?" The man's tone is surprisingly cold, and Mulder tenses, ready to intervene if necessary.

"No, of course not," Scully replies. "Come back on the eleventh of June, and your order will be ready." The man nods and turns to go without another word. As he passes, he turns his head slightly and glowers at Mulder before sweeping out and into the night.

The hairs along the back of Mulder's neck are suddenly standing on end.

Frenchmen, certainly, have no cause to like Mulder, or any other German soldier. But most of them, particularly in this small town, are timid, unwilling to risk any sort of direct confrontation. And the glare this man has just thrown at Mulder clearly says that, had Mulder taken offense, the man would have been quite willing to fight back. Something about this does not feel right.

"Scully," he says later, with the cafe door closed and locked against the outside world, "I think we should move up our departure date." She looks up at him from where she's slicing up meat for tomorrow's sandwiches.

"Because of that man?" she asks. "The one who ordered the pie right before we closed?"

"There was something about him that spooked me," he says. "Call it gut instinct, but I don't think he's what he seems."

"He spooked you badly enough to want to leave early? Really?" She transfers the sliced meats to a large tray and carries them to the refrigerator, which Mulder opens for her. "It seems a little extreme to change everything on just a hunch." She closes the refrigerator and turns, leaning against it and looking up at Mulder skeptically.

"Just... trust me on this, okay, Scully?" he asks. "Please?" He reaches out and takes her hand, drawing her closer, and rests his other hand on the tiny bulge that is their child. It's barely noticeable under her skirt, but Mulder has spent hours running amazed hands over it while she's naked, and he knows it's there. "I just... I don't want to take any chances if we don't have to. There's too much at stake." She sighs and covers his hand with her own.

"I'll get word to Frohike," she says. "What should the new date be?"

"Let's make it the tenth," he suggests. "That way, we'll be a good distance away before he comes back for his order... or for whatever else he's after."

Mulder very rarely stays the entire night with Scully- it's dangerous to risk sleeping late and missing morning roll call- but tonight, he makes an exception. He doesn't think the dark-haired man will return, but he's not taking any chances, either. He sleeps poorly, waking at every tiny sound, and before the sun has risen, he is sitting on the edge of Scully's bed, lacing up his boots. He bends to kiss her, and she stirs sleepily. He lowers the duvet and presses a gentle kiss to her stomach, as well.

"It's not like she can feel that, you know," murmurs Scully without opening her eyes. Mulder grins.

"Doesn't matter," he says. "I can feel it." She gives him a sleepy smile and reaches up, pulling him down for a proper kiss. "And how do you know it's a girl, anyway?"

"I don't," she says. "I just have a feeling, that's all."

"Isn't there some way for you to tell?"

"There are a bunch of old wives' tales," she says, "but every last one of them is complete and utter nonsense." She opens her eyes, finally, looking up at him. "You're just going to have to be patient, I'm afraid." He bends to kiss her one more time.

"I'll be back this evening, all right?" he says. She nods and closes her eyes again, already drifting back to sleep. She will get up in another hour, he knows, and walk out to the farm to milk the cows, before going to the church to see the priest, who will get a message to Frohike. By the time he sees her this evening, with any luck, their date of departure will have officially changed to June tenth.

The encampment is still quiet when Mulder returns, shrouded in a pre-dawn fog. He has several hours before he'll be required to muster for roll call, and he decides to try and get a little more sleep to make up for his restless night. Creeping into his tent, he finds both of his tent mates snoring loudly, and he climbs into his cot, hoping they'll wake up, find him here, and assume he came in late. He dozes off at once.

When he wakes, hours later, the camp is full of noise and panicked energy. Mulder's tent mates are long-gone, and he realizes he's likely missed morning roll-call, though in this excitement, his absence may have gone unnoticed. He leaves his tent, deciding to find Hauptmann Skinner and make his excuses for oversleeping. The atmosphere in camp is positively frantic, and Mulder knows there is only one thing that can be causing it. Somewhere to the west, he is sure, the Allied invasion has begun.

Skinner is standing in front of his tent, looking for all the world as though he has been waiting for Mulder to show up. He says nothing, only beckons for Mulder to follow him into his tent. He lets the flap fall behind him as soon as they enter, and turns to face Mulder.

"Early this morning, in Normandy," says Skinner, before Mulder can even ask the question. "No word on how it's going yet, but...." He shrugs. "It's only a matter of time, really. If it doesn't work today, they'll regroup and try again. They can't win without opening up a western front and they know it." Mulder asks the only question that truly concerns him at this point.

"Are we moving out?" he asks, his heart in his throat.

"Not yet," says Skinner. "We're to remain here and deal with the local Resistance as best we can. They've been playing havoc with the rail lines, and command doesn't want the supply lines interrupted. The western coast is already heavily fortified, so unless the Allies progress much more quickly than expected, I estimate we have at least a month here before we're ordered to move on." He fixes Mulder with a pointed stare. "I'll understand, of course, if you feel you need to change your own plans, if you need to leave earlier." Mulder swallows.

"I think we'll be safe with our current timetable," says Mulder carefully. He knows Skinner doesn't want an exact date.

"That's good," says Skinner. "I don't want to know anything ahead of time... but tell me when the time comes, Mulder, and I'll do what I can to see that you get away clean. I can do that much for you."

"Thank you," says Mulder, touched. Skinner doesn't have to risk himself like this, but he's a good, decent man. "Sir..." says Mulder hesitantly, "why don't you come with us?" He feels certain that Scully will be all right with him extending this invitation without asking her first. Skinner has been a staunch ally to them, and it doesn't seem right to leave him behind. His offer clearly takes his captain by surprise.

"I appreciate that, Mulder," Skinner says, "but it would be wrong for me to leave now. Most of my men aren't here by choice. I can't abandon them to the likes of Spender. If we're in battle, he won't hesitate to sacrifice every last one of them no matter how impossible the situation... if I'm there, I may be able to surrender on their behalf and save their lives. I have to do what I can to protect them." For a moment, Mulder feels ashamed, but Skinner seems to sense this. "I'm not judging you for leaving, Mulder. I know it's what you have to do. You have other responsibilities now... I'm in a completely different position than you are. I don't have children." It takes a moment for his words to penetrate... but when they do, Mulder looks up in shock.

"Did Scully tell you?" he asks. He doesn't believe that she would have, not without letting Mulder know first, but....

"No, she didn't," says Skinner. "But I started paying attention the moment she told me she was planning on leaving, because I couldn't imagine anything else that would make her step back from the fight. And recently, she's starting to show." Mulder is suddenly terrified.

"Has anyone else noticed?" he asks. "Should we leave now?"

"Nobody else knows, Mulder," says Skinner. "I'm confident of that. I've only noticed because I've been watching, because I've been expecting to see it. If anyone else had, I promise you, it would be all over the camp by now. I don't think you need to take off immediately... but I would make it sooner, rather than later."

--------

Saturday, the tenth of June, is the longest, most stressful day of Mulder's entire life.

He wakes in the morning feeling as though he has not slept at all, which is closer to the truth than he'd like it to be on a day when he knows he'll need every last bit of energy he can muster. He had stayed late at Scully's the previous night, both of them assuaging their terror of what they are about to do in endless bouts of urgent lovemaking. Back in the camp, he had been too full of nervous energy to sleep properly, and now, with the day of departure finally upon him, his nerves are buzzing with fear and adrenaline. His duties are interminable, his meals are like sawdust in his mouth, and though he knows it's wise to go into tonight with a full stomach, he has difficulty eating anything at all.

In the early evening, Mulder catches sight of Hauptmann Skinner from across the mess tent and gives him a pointed look. His captain nods shortly, and Mulder follows him back to his tent at a distance.

"It's tonight," he informs Skinner quietly. "I'm going to the cafe now, like normal, and staying after Scully locks up. We'll meet our escort at midnight." Mulder has not packed anything; all necessities are in the bag in Scully's wardrobe, except for the forged identification papers, which are tucked into Mulder's uniform jacket. Mulder leaving camp with his rucksack would be tantamount to announcing his plans to the entire regiment.

"All right," says Skinner. He looks down, his hands in his pockets. "Do you... would you mind much if I came to the cafe with you, just for a bit?" he asks. "I'd very much like to have a cup of coffee with the two of you, after the cafe closes for the night. I don't want to impose, but...." He leaves the rest unsaid. After tonight, it's highly unlikely that Skinner will ever see Mulder or Scully again.

"We'd both like that very much," says Mulder. "Is there anything you need to do, or are you ready to leave now?"

"I'm ready," says Skinner. "Let's go."

The two men leave Skinner's tent and make their way through camp. Mulder thinks, with no small amount of joy, that this will be the last time he winds through these tents, the last time he tries to ignore the glares of men that he knows hate him, the last time he avoids meeting up with Jeffrey Spender and his sidekicks.

And speaking of Spender....

As they pass the farmhouse where Oberst Spender makes his headquarters, Mulder spies the man himself standing out front with his son, several officers, and two men in civilian clothing, whose backs are to Mulder and Skinner. As they draw level with the farmhouse, one of the men turns his head so that Mulder can see his face. Mulder freezes in place. His blood runs cold.

"What is it?" whispers Skinner, stopping and leaning close to Mulder.

"That man, talking to Spender," hisses Mulder. "He came into the cafe two weeks ago." He looks at Skinner, suddenly terrified. "He ordered a pie. Something felt off about him... he's the reason Scully and I changed our departure date, the reason we moved it up." Skinner's mouth narrows into a thin line.

"Mulder," he says, his voice low and tight, "I think you should go get Scully and leave. Now." He puts a hand on Mulder's arm. "I'll go with you to the cafe. Get her to go to the kitchen with you, leave from the back door, and hide out until it's time to meet your escort." He looks back up towards the farmhouse. "Something about this doesn't feel right." But at that moment, Oberst Spender catches sight of them. He strides over, flicking ash from his cigarette as he walks. Mulder turns his back to the farmhouse quickly, not wanting the dark-haired man to recognize him from the cafe.

"Hauptmann Skinner," says Spender. "You will need to assemble your company and proceed immediately to the center of town. We've received a report that a captured German officer from another regiment is being held hostage by the Resistance somewhere in the village, and I intend to find him, release him, and deal with the perpetrators." He casts a sidelong look at Mulder. "I have an excellent idea about where the officer is being held, and I'm sending my son and his men ahead of the main force to try and confirm my suspicions and bring him out before the traitors have a chance to move him." Mulder cannot breathe. He knows for sure that Scully is not holding anyone captive in the cafe... but he is equally certain that the cafe is exactly where Jeffrey Spender will be heading.

"Sir," he says, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking, "might I go with him?" Mulder is reasonably confident that, given the right circumstances, he could easily overpower the younger Spender and get Scully away. It's not the clean escape they were hoping for, but right now, it's looking like the best option. "I speak better French, and I believe I could be of assistance in questioning-"

"You will remain with your unit, Obersoldat Mueller," says Spender shortly. "I do not foresee that there will be a need for much... questioning." Mulder opens his mouth to argue, but Skinner takes his arm firmly and leads him away.

"You say anything, you're just going to get yourself locked up," hisses Skinner, as Mulder tries to fight him. "The best thing we can do is get into town. You may be able to steal her away in all the confusion."

"But you heard him," says Mulder. "They're going to kill her." Skinner shakes his head.

"He's saying that to rile you up and you know it," says Skinner. "They're not going to find any German officer being held hostage in her apartment, are they?"

"No," says Mulder.

"Which means they'll know they've got it wrong... so they will need to question her. I don't know where this imprisoned officer is being kept, or if he's even real- for all we know, this could be a diversion set up by the Resistance so that they can hit us somewhere vital- but I do know that until he's located, they will keep Scully alive."

When Mulder's company arrives in the town square, the scene that greets him fills him with dread. The square is full of frightened villagers, some in their nightclothes, many holding terrified, crying children, all clutching their identification papers. More are being rounded up- the entire town is being gathered together. Soldiers are blatantly looting every shop and home Mulder can see, smashing windows and throwing people's goods and belongings out into the streets. His stomach clenches painfully: there will be no going back from this. What is going on right now has a definite feel of finality about it, of all the stops being pulled out.

If Oradour-Sur-Glane still stands by morning, it will be a miracle.

Skinner calls the company to a halt, but makes no move to join in the melee. Throwing caution to the wind, Mulder breaks rank and runs to his captain's side. He can see by Skinner's expression that he has reached the same conclusion as Mulder: the town is about to be destroyed.

"We have to get to her," says Mulder. "She must be here somewhere." Skinner nods. He turns back to his men, raising his voice in a commanding shout.

"You men are to remain here, in formation," he orders firmly. "You will serve as backup should the companies already in action require it. Obsersoldat Mulder and myself will seek out the commanders and obtain further instruction." Without waiting for a response, Skinner turns and strides away, Mulder hurrying to keep up.

"Will they listen?" he asks Skinner.

"I have no idea," says Skinner. "I imagine the ones who want to join in, will... and the ones who don't will use my ordering them to stay put as an excuse to stay out of it. It's the best I can do right now." They are nearing the edge of the square. "I don't know if Spender and his goons will still be at the cafe, but I think we should start there," he says. "Keep your eye out in case they're already brought her out to the town square." Mulder nods agreement... but ten feet into the crowd, it's easier said than done. He and Skinner are quickly separated as the panicked townspeople press between them, and spotting one small woman amongst them seems nearly impossible. German officers are striding amongst them, checking identification papers. It takes far too long for Mulder to get to the other side of the square, and the high street on the other side is just as crowded and chaotic.

The lights at Cafe Pequod are all off, but the front door is standing open. Whether it's from patrons being dragged out to the square, or from Spender rushing in in search of Scully, Mulder doesn't know, but either way, he is terrified of what he'll find inside. There's no sign of Skinner yet, so he flies into the cafe without waiting, his pistol drawn and held ready.

The main room is completely empty- and completely demolished. The soldiers have already been through here, which means it's unlikely Scully is inside, but still, he has to check. He harbors a faint, but persistent hope that the commotion outside began before Spender's arrival, that perhaps Scully has had time to flee and is even now making her way to their meeting place. If her bag is gone from her wardrobe, he'll know that's what's happened... but he doesn't think it likely.

The kitchen is just as empty as the dining room, and Mulder only pauses long enough to be sure that she's not hiding anywhere before barreling upstairs to her apartment. It is also empty, though it doesn't appear to have been looted- yet. There is no sign of Scully anywhere... and his heart sinks when he throws open her wardrobe and sees her bag lying exactly where she had left it.

They have her.

Mulder grabs the bag, throwing it over his shoulder, and tears back downstairs. As he rounds the kitchen door and enters the dining room, he nearly smacks into Skinner, who is running towards the kitchen, in search of him.

"She's not here," pants Mulder, panic beginning to set in now.

"I know," says Skinner. "I got one of the other captains to talk to me- he says they saw Jeffrey Spender heading back towards camp with her just as all of this was kicking off." Mulder is aghast.

"Back at camp?" he moans. "I could have just hidden myself and stayed behind!"

"Well, we'll need to get back there now," says Skinner, "and we need to take the back route. We can't go back the way we came." Outside, there is a sudden cacophony of desperate screaming, coming from the square.

"What's going on?" asks Mulder.

"They're separating the men from the women and children," says Skinner grimly. Mulder freezes in horror.

"Skinner...."

"I know, Mulder," he growls. "But there is nothing we can do, do you hear me? Either you run out there, try to put a stop to things, and get shot, and Scully gets killed back up at camp, or we get her out of there and you flee and maybe someone will be left to tell the world what's happened here tonight." He grabs Mulder by the arm, rushing him out the back door. They pass very few soldiers on the side streets- most of them are in the square, almost the entire village having been emptied out by now, and those soldiers who are left are more intent on rounding up stragglers than on Skinner and Mulder. As they pass the street that leads to the church, the same place where Scully has passed on coded messages under the guise of attending mass and confession, the same place where, months before, he and Scully stood before the priest and promised to love only each other for the rest of their lives, Mulder sees a line of women and children being herded roughly through the church's front doors. For a moment, he is unable to go on, and he actually takes a step towards the church before Skinner grabs his arm.

"Mulder, come on!" he insists. "There is nothing you can do, do you hear me? We need to go!" Still, Mulder does not move, and Skinner finally steps between him and the sight of the children being forced into the church. "Mulder, Scully needs you! Let's go!" The sound of Scully's name brings Mulder back to himself, and he turns and continues on, doing his best to block out the sound of the frightened sobbing behind him. As he passes, he catches sight of Oberst Spender, standing off to the side, calmly smoking a cigarette, watching the proceedings with an expression of supreme detachment.

Mulder has always suspected that his father's friend was evil, but it is not until this moment that he realizes that he is beyond that. He is not even human.

The camp is empty when they arrive. Skinner wastes no time with checking tents; rather, he leads Mulder straight to the farmhouse headquarters. Glancing through a downstairs window into the sitting room, they can see Scully, her hands bound, kneeling near the center of the room. Jeffrey Spender stands before her, and behind her stand two of Spender's men, their guns drawn, as well as the dark-haired man from the cafe.

"Can we shoot them through the window?" whispers Mulder. Skinner shakes his head.

"We can bring down two quickly enough, but not all four... and if we miss, we can't stop them from shooting her from out here. We need to get inside." Mulder follows Skinner around the side of the house to the kitchen door. It mercifully does not squeak as they ease it open. Both men drop low and creep through the empty kitchen, towards the hallway to the sitting room. Mulder can hear Spender's smug voice as they draw nearer.

"Do you really expect us to believe you have no idea where the kidnapped officer is being held?" Spender is asking. "We know you've given aid to the Resistance. We know your mother has hidden criminals at her home. We've seen your 'friend' buying medicines and bringing them to you."

"I'm a doctor," Mulder hears Scully say, not a trace of fear in her voice. "I treat whomever is brought to me; I don't care what side they're on. That's what all of the medicines are for."

"You're a cafe owner, not a doctor," says Spender derisively.

"People can be more than one thing at once, you know," says Scully. "I'm a doctor and a cafe owner. Just like you're an idiot and an asshole." There is a crack of a hand meeting flesh, and Mulder hears Scully cry out in pain. At this, he cannot wait any longer, and trusting that Skinner will follow him, Mulder charges down the hall and into the sitting room. He fires off two rounds quickly, killing two of Spender's men. The third man, though, gets off a shot the instant before Skinner takes him down, and behind him, Mulder hears Skinner grunt in pain and surprise. He whirls to see his captain stumbling and falling, blood pouring from a wound on his leg. He lands on the floor behind a sofa, his gun slipping from his grasp and clattering across the floor, out of his reach.

Mulder's momentary distraction is all the time Spender needs. In a flash, he is behind Scully, hauling her to her feet, and when Mulder turns back, Spender is behind her, his pistol held to her head. Mulder is no marksman: he cannot guarantee that if he fires, he will hit Spender and not Scully... and in any case, Spender will pull the trigger the moment Mulder does. He is stuck.

"You have a long habit of falling in with the wrong crowd, Fox," sneers the younger man. "I keep hoping you'll grow out of it, but I'm starting to think you'll never learn."

"What the hell are you talking about, Spender?" demands Mulder. If he can keep Spender talking, he can buy time to figure out a way out of this mess.

"I'm talking about your choice of company," says Spender. "This lying French whore, for one. Your traitorous schoolmate from Berlin- what was his name? Rolf? That coward with his precious newspaper full of lies." Spender's lip curls. "And of course, your stupid sister." Mulder's blood boils. His hand begins to shake.

"Don't you dare say a word about my sister, you pathetic little rat," he growls. Spender laughs coldly.

"That's rich, you calling me a rat," he snarls. "You know, I hoped, for months, that you would wise up and turn your sister in before she got completely out of hand. That's what I would have done... but then, I understood that loyalty to country is more important than loyalty to family." He smirks. "So I turned her in for you."

For a moment, the rush of rage in Mulder's head is so great, he forgets where he is and what is going on. He forgets the conflict outside, the need to escape, even forgets that he is holding a gun. He has actually taken a step in Spender's direction before Spender presses the gun harder into Scully's temple. Her sharp intake of breath is all he needs to bring him back to himself again.

"Now, this is what we're going to do," says Spender. "You're going to drop your weapon and kick it over here. I'm going to tie you up, and we're going to wait here for my father to come back and deal with both of you. I imagine, if you beg nicely enough, he'll kill her quickly and you won't-"

BAM.

The gunshot takes all three of them by surprise, but none so much as Spender. The bullet hits him directly in the forehead and he collapses in a heap, Scully falling to the floor near him. She rolls to the side and leaps to her feet, her balance hampered slightly by her bound hands. She and Mulder turn in the direction of the shot.

Hauptmann Skinner is barely visible lying on his side behind the sofa, with only the top half of his head and the arm holding the gun protruding into the room. While Mulder had distracted Spender, he had crept, slowly, to his fallen gun and, unnoticed by everyone else in the room, had taken aim and fired.

He is, thankfully, a much better shot than Mulder.

"Mulder, cut my hands loose," says Scully, and Mulder hastens to obey. Scully runs to Skinner and rolls him on his back. She gently probes his thigh, locating the wound, reaching around the back. "It went through clean," she says. "I need something to bind it to stop the bleeding."

"Scully, there's no time," says Skinner. "You and Mulder need to leave now!"

"You have to come with us," says Mulder. Skinner shakes his head.

"I'll only slow you down," Skinner says. "You'll never get out of here in time if you're carrying me."

"But Sir...." Mulder swallows. "If you stay here, they'll know you helped us escape. Your life will be forfeit."

"I'll tell them I chased you up here and you shot me," says Skinner dismissively. "It's not like any of these four are going to contradict me."

"They may not believe you," argues Mulder.

"Mulder, GO," Skinner all but shouts. He is already removing his own belt, preparing to apply a tourniquet to his leg. "I'll be fine, I promise!" Mulder stands, Scully rising with him. He wants to say something, to thank Skinner for all he has done, for his support and protection, and he opens his mouth to do so... but now Skinner really is shouting. "Oh, for God's sweet sake! All the thanks in the world are going to be meaningless to me if you two don't get your asses out of here right now!" At last, Mulder nods.

"Take care of yourself, Walther," is all he can manage, and then he and Scully are gone into the night.

----------

They skirt the edge of the town, staying well out of sight... but it's not far enough away that they cannot hear the screaming. Near the square, Mulder can see a great gout of flames that he knows must be the church. Sporadic machine gun fire echoes from the same direction. In the distance, on the horizon, another enormous fire is pluming up towards the night sky. Scully clutches at his arm with a distraught moan.

"That's my mother's farm," she whispers, her voice broken. "Spender told me they were taking the men there, to the barns." They don't have much time, they need to keep moving, but Mulder cannot stop himself from putting his arms around Scully and holding her close. "The women and children were in the church, weren't they?" she asks, her voice muffled against his chest. He nods, and she squeezes him. There's no time to linger, though; at any moment, Oberst Spender could discover their escape. Mulder unshoulders the bag he took from Scully's wardrobe, and from within it, retrieves a set of men's clothing. He strips off his uniform pants and jacket and replaces them with the civilian clothing. Scully removes her blouse, stained with Jeffrey Spender's blood, and slips into a fresh one. They hide their discarded clothing under a pile of leaves and continue on their way.

The journey to the meeting place does not take long, in reality, but to Mulder, it seems to take ages. They say nothing, partly out of fear of getting caught by a patrol- though really, they don't expect anyone to be out here- and partly out of horror at the unspeakable smells and sounds that rend the night air. They meet no one until they arrive at their rendez-vous point, a mile north of town, but still well in sight of the fires. At the top of a small rise, under cover of a copse of trees, Frohike, Langly, and Byers are waiting for them. Frohike steps forward and embraces first Mulder, then Scully... but none of them speak. The grief and shock are too great. Together they turn and watch as the flames on the horizon expand, spreading away from the church, into the rest of the town.

Oradour-Sur-Glane is gone.

EPILOGUE

GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D. C. AUGUST 1946

The Cafe Pequod is almost always busy around lunchtime, and today is no exception. Mulder has had his hands full chopping meat and tomatoes for sandwiches, preparing coffee, and washing dishes. If things keep up the way they have been, there really will be no way they can get out of finally hiring a dishwasher. Luckily, with business being what it is, they can afford it.

The locals love the cafe's authentic French charm, the rich coffee, the hearty sandwiches and, of course, the delicious pies. All of these things explain business being brisk during rest of the day, but Mulder strongly suspects that the markedly larger noontime crowd has more to do with the number of businessmen who drop by on their lunch break, hoping to get a glimpse of the lovely young proprietress.

Scully has done the best she can to make the little restaurant look as much like home as possible. Prior to opening their doors, she has spent months sifting through thrift shops and estate sales, snapping up any and all furniture, crockery, cutlery, and decor that reminded her of the place she was forced to abandon. Before finally settling down here, they had traveled so far and stayed in so many strange places that anything that smacked of home, of stability, was a balm to their souls... even something as small as a set of plates that reminded them of the first slice of pie Scully ever served him.

After weeks making their slow, laborious way to the coast and bartering passage across the Channel, Mulder and Scully were faced with the daunting task of locating Maggie Scully. Mother and daughter had arranged ahead of time, should they ever have to flee, to meet in London, but still, it took nearly a month of combing shelters and information centers before they were finally reunited. By then, Scully's pregnancy was perfectly obvious... but in her overwhelming joy at being together again with her daughter, Maggie was all too happy to simply smile and nod at Scully's story of their being married before the baby had been conceived.

Mulder is relatively certain Maggie didn't believe a word of it.

After the war had ended and travel by sea was once again safe, they had booked passage to America, staying first with Scully's brother Bill in Boston, then with her brother Charlie in Norfolk, before finally finding, falling in love with, and purchasing the shuttered restaurant in Georgetown. Unlike its French counterpart, this cafe has two floors above it with an apartment on each. Maggie Scully lives on the top floor... but most days, she's kept plenty busy in the second floor apartment.

As Mulder clears stack of dirty dishes from an abandoned table and turns to carry them into the kitchen, he catches sight of a pair of bright blue eyes peering at him from behind the counter. He smiles in spite of himself, darts around the counter, and scoops the giggling little girl up into his arms.

"Did you sneak away from your grand-mere again?" he asks her, and she gives him a nod and a mischievous smile in response. Shaking his head, he carries the wiggling child into the kitchen, where Scully is assembling a tray of pastries to bring out to a customer. "We've had another jailbreak," he says, and she looks up, sighing.

"Again, Claire?" Claire responds with another giggle. "Maman is going to have to put a leash on her before long," Scully says, dusting her hands off on her apron. "You won't have as much time to be chasing her back upstairs come September." In just a few weeks, Scully will only be working in the cafe in the evenings and on Saturdays. During the day, her medical school classes will be keeping her plenty busy... and soon enough, she won't be working in the cafe at all. Mulder and Maggie have promised to keep the cafe running once Scully is practicing medicine, which was the only way she would agree to resume her studies.

In the evening, when the last cup of coffee has been drunk and the last customer has left, Scully goes out front to roll up the awning and lock the door. Mulder takes one last stack of dirty dishes back to the sink, then returns to close the front drapes. As he approaches the window, he sees Scully outside, leaning against the doorframe, looking up at the cafe's sign, visible to them now with the awning rolled back. Mulder steps out the door and stands with her, his arm around her shoulders. She leans into him and they both gaze up at the white wooden whale swinging above the front windows.

They had left a forwarding address every time they had moved on, but they had never really expected to receive any letters. Nearly everyone Scully had known perished that night in Oradour-Sur-Glane, and Mulder knows better than to expect to hear from his parents ever again. So when the large, flat package had shown up six months ago, it had taken them all by surprise. The postmark originated in France, and showed that it had arrived in London and had been forwarded to each of their subsequent addresses before arriving on their doorstep in Georgetown.

The contents of the package had been nothing short of a miracle, in more ways than one.

The sign was no longer white, the paint having bubbled and flaked off in the heat, but the wood itself was relatively undamaged. Mulder and Scully had sanded off the few burned patches, painted it white, and carefully stenciled on the sign's original inscription. There had been no letter accompanying the sign, but they both know exactly who sent it.

Somehow, whether by convincing Spender that he had been shot by Mulder, or by escaping all together, Walther Skinner survived.

A wooden sign and a surviving spy are, in the face of so much loss, relatively small victories, but with the nightmares of June the tenth still haunting them, Mulder and Scully are grateful for any victories at all.

"Ready to go in?" Mulder asks Scully now, pulling her out of her reverie. She smiles up at him and nods, then stretches up to kiss him. Together, they switch off the front light, shut the curtained door, and lock it behind them.

Cafe Pequod is closed for the night.

[abunchofbadchoices]

Michael's Song

HSS Michael x MC (Jordan) in Midnight Sun AU

*Disclaimer: Most of the lines and scenes I got from the movie the Midnight Sun and all the rights belongs to the creators and writers, as well as the characters from PB. This is merely a converted fan fiction*

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Part Five

"That is so romantic it disgusts me." Maria mumbled from Jordan's bed, facing the ceiling with the book covering her face. She sits up suddenly, having been reminded of something. "What did he say about your XP?"

Jordan looks hopeless. The blonde had been sitting on the swivel chair this time, staring at the distance as she bites her lip to stop from smiling too much. The girl managed to respond after a few seconds, frowning. "It didn't came up."

Maria scowled. "What do you mean it didn't come up?"

"I-I didn't bring it up." Jordan shrugged. "I'm not gonna just randomly be like, 'Hey, dude, by the way, the sunlight's gonna..." She makes exploding gestures with her hands. "Like, look when you tell someone you're sick, then you start to become more like... a disease and less like a person. It's--"

She gazed at her pointedly.

"I'm gonna tell him, I promise, but I don't know when I'm gonna see him again."

"I do." Maria sighs in dismay, though she tried to hide it. "You know that annoying guy who works at the ice cream shop?"

"The nerdy one you're annoyed with? Well, scratch that, you're annoyed at everyone." Jordan rolls her eyes playfully, then points to herself. "Except for Jordan."

Her face feels like burning at the statement her best friend dropped. Does Jordan knows? Maria brushed it off and threw a pillow at Jordan. "Whatever, J. But yes, Aiden, his name. His parents-- a strict bunch, mind you-- are out of town tonight and he's throwing a party and he told me to bring friends. So, I'm gonna bring you--"

"No, no, no, no..."

"And you're gonna bring Michael."

"No!" Jordan stands, holding her hands up while shaking her head profusely. "He's gotta, like, you know... Doesn't... I have to wait till he texts me first, right?"

"Yeah, totally!" Maria smiles. Oh, Jordan, why are you so innocent... Usually, Maria wouldn't suggest such a forward move and what does she even know about dealing with a guy when she hadn't even get past her previous first dates but well, if it means putting this innocent bundle of dorkiness out of misery then hell yes, Maria will do something. She sits straighter, crossing her legs in a no-nonsense way and look at the girl with the most serious expression. "And then, you know, his squire will send a note via carrier pigeon asking if you'd like to merge your kingdoms. What is this, 18th century England? Listen, Jordan, you're a gorgeous, young, uh...badass woman. You're gonna text him whenever you damn well please."

The blonde stares at her. There is a blankness on her face.Maria dives through the pillows and locates a phone, then hands it to Jordan. "Be confident, okay? Give him the facts..."

"Okay." Jordan takes a deep breath and opens her message app. She follows Maria's instructions to be confident and... among other things.

Down at the town's shipyard, Michael hears the ping of his phone while he was in the midst of scrubbing the stains from the side of his uncle's boat. He wipes his hands on his shirt, which was already drench in sweat after working for hours on that boat under the blaring sky. There is a message from Jordan. Michael couldn't help the smirk on his lips.

Hey. My friend is having a party tonight if you want to come.

"Play a little hard to get." Maria whispers.

Jordan starts another message. "All right."

Michael receives another message before he can even type a reply.

I don't care if you come or not.

He raised his eyebrows.

Maria scoots closer to her. "Make sure that he knows he's not the only reason you're going."

"Okay. Alright."

Back at the shipyard, Michael receives the third message that made him laugh louder than he intended to.

I have lots of friends.

- Jordan

The messages stops coming so he takes that as a cue to answer back.

Maria took the phone from her best friend to see the messages she sent and instantly freezes as soon as she reads them. "Oh, no. What's this??"

Hey. My friend is having a party tonight if you want to come.

I don't care if you come or not.

I have lots of friends.

- Jordan

Maria doesn't know where to face palm or something, but before she dies of second-hand embarrassment, a new message came to Jordan's screen.

I'm in.

▪️▪️▪️

"This is gonna be a tame, safe, parent-friendly party." Maria called after Scott. Jordan has been trailing behind the two as they walk from the kitchen to the living room.

"Ha!" Her Dad turns as they reach the door. "It's a totally lame party. You know what we should do? We should stay here. We'll get Hunan Chinese. You guys love Hunan, right?"

She and Maria groaned.

"Put some Netflix on. It will be perfect!"

The three of them went on full circle around the house until finally, they ended up in the kitchen once more. Scott open the fridge to check for snacks. But Jordan reached out and pushes it close. She musters a determined look on her face. "Dad, you know I'm a good kid. You know I'm not gonna do anything crazy, but I swear, if I spend one more night here-- just listening to everyone else outside my window, living their lives-- I might... go... crazy!"

Scott knits his eyebrows, then look at Maria for back up but the raven-haired young woman simply shrugs.

Jordan continues. "Tomorrow night, we can order way too much chow mein, and have a movie marathon."

Her father's eyes move from her to Maria then back. Probably calculating the consequences before he lets out a heavy breath. "All right."

"Yes!" Jordan hugs her father tightly. "You're the best Dad in the world."

Maria gestured for her to follow and they rush upstairs to her room and the girl starts rippling through her clothes.

"Okay, um, Michael's gonna meet us at Aiden's around 8:00." Jordan reminded her.

"Then we have to get ready."

"Girl, what are you talking about? We have like three hours."

Maria suddenly turns and glare at her. She almost forgot her best friend has been Student Council President at Oliver Berry High for two years. She was all about organizing stuffs, especially parties. And Jordan knows better than to counter her when in the midst of looking for an appropriate attire for her. "Danielle Jordan Lee, we're already behind."

She watched helplessly, but after about ten minutes, Maria raised a light-blue lacy dress from her closet that she doesn't even know exists. Their eyes meets, then their faces lights up in agreement. Two hours and fifty minutes later, they are both dressed up and perfectly groomed for the night. Her father's expression as soon as she steps out of her room was priceless, but also a bit of longing in his eyes as Jordan was aware how much she resembles her late mother.

They said their goodbyes quickly and outside the door, Maria stops her and looks at her up and down. "You look beautiful. Good."

"Aren't you looking good yourself." Jordan smiles back, taking her best friend's hand then ran to the car already parked at the curb.

It was a short drive to the Zhou Family house and at exactly 8:00, the two girls are making their way up the decorated porch of the two storey house. For a party, Jordan finds it weird that the house seems quiet. Parties were never quiet, according to the teen flick movies she watched, but maybe this one haven't really started.

The door open just as they reached it, an Asian guy grinning at the sight of them both. "You came." His face falters soon after, looking at Maria nervously. "Is there any chance that you, or your hot friend, hey, know how to get beer... out of a keg?"

"Oh, no." Maria's smile dissolves. She shoves past the guy and looks even more furious to see the house is empty. "You didn't get a tap??"

Aiden scratch the back of his neck, following them inside. "I-- I didn't realize they were separate things-- why would they sell me a barrel of beer I can't even access?"

This party is a complete disaster, Maria fumed. She went to the kitchen and glances back to see Jordan touching the colorful decorations in awe. Aww, this sweet sweet girl... But still, Maria couldn't believe she entrusted Aiden to plan a party by himself. And worst, she actually showed up and dared to expect something good.

At the kitchen, they find two other people she recognized were from Music club at Berry High. Myra and Luis are busy tinkering the keg to open...to no avail. They glance up and waved awkwardly.

"AIDEN!" Maria called sharply. "What the hell? This is a tame, safe, parent-friendly party!"

Aiden backed away slowly. "Do tame parties have sundae bars?"

"I think it's cool." Jordan joins in, beaming excitedly.

"No, don't listen to her." Her best friend hissed at Aiden. "Okay, she's never been to a party before. She doesn't understand how dire the situation is. We gotta go, Jordan." Maria grab her hand and turns to go.

"No, no, no! I just made a huge thing of chili." Aiden reasoned.

"Aiden, chili is not a party food."

Their conversation was cut off by the sound of car engine shutting off and its door opening and closing.

"You see?" The Asian points outside. "The party's just kicking off."

They all rushed down the stairs to see who actually decided to show up. A blue pick-up truck was parked outside and a guy in a green bomber jacket is walking towards the house.

"What's Michael Harrison doing here?" Aiden wonders in disbelief.

"My God..." Maria rubs her face in frustration just as she felt someone came up behind her.

Michael stops for a second as soon as he caught sight of Jordan, a genuine smile lighting on his face and even blink a few times, as if he couldn't believe what he is looking at.

"Hi." Jordan greets, a bashful smile on her lips.

▪️▪️▪️

Another hour passed and the trio still hadn't managed to open the keg.

Michael and Jordan sits on porch chairs, just making small talks while Maria stays not far from them like a guarding hawk.

His eyes studies every detail of the beautiful face just inches away from him. "You look really amazing."

"Um... it's all Maria." Jordan said quietly, looking down on her lap and it makes him think that maybe, him acting weird makes her shy.

Michael isn't much into praising people, or voicing out opinions in general. Usually, he goes to a party, hang out with people regardless if they look good as long as they don't bother him too much. But he couldn't help it if she happens to look so amazing this night. Or every night for that matter. Whether Jordan is dressed in sweat pants or oversized clothes, or designer dress... She manages to make it all look really good.

"No... I don't think so." He whispers.

"For you, good sir!" Aiden's loud voice interrupts. The guy hands each of them some bowls.

Michael clears his throat and imitates the Asian's tone. "Ah. Thank you! Beef chili, huh?"

Jordan thanks him as well. She watch Maria taste the beef chili and almost burst out laughing at the disgusted look on her best friend's face. Feeling kinder, Michael scoops some mouthfuls and shoves it into his mouth. He makes a show of enjoying it. "That's top shelf, buddy. Really fresh."

He turns to Jordan with a sour face, forcing the chili down his throat. The blonde let out a quiet giggle.

Aiden takes a seat across from them. "You know, I really thought we'd have a big turnout but--"

"I told you not to go up against the cheerleader." Myra scolded from the corner.

"What cheerleader?" Maria asks.

Luis fixed his eyeglasses. "It's the mean blonde one with a convertible."

The girl rolls her eyes. "Giselle Collins? Ughhh."

Now that it was mentioned, Michael was indeed invited over by Giselle to her major graduation party which must have been tonight. He had completely forgotten about it as he was not really planning to go anywhere that night. That was, until he received the certain messages this afternoon.

"Yes." Aiden pouts. "She's having a party tonight as well. Must have dinged our turnout."

Michael puts down his bowl. "Do you guys wanna go there?"

To be continued...

▪️▪️▪️

Giselle's party coming next 😆😆

[carlylexwheeler-blog]

The Chaser I Seek

Summary: Muggle-born Anne Wheeler is thrilled when she receives her Head Girl badge in the mail the summer before her final year at Hogwarts, and so is Pureblooded Phillip Carlyle when he discovers he is to be Head Boy. Neither Phillip or Anne knows much about the other, except for what they have learned from afar. Phillip has been watching from the Slytherin side of the stands for years as Anne leads the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team to victory after victory. Anne, on the other hand, has listened to the whispers about the Carlyle family and their obsession with Pureblood lineage, and she knows along with the rest of the school that the Carlyles are instrumental in Voldemort's slowly gaining success.

Neither is prepared to be jarringly thrown together their very first day by a food-fight blown out of proportion.

As both students struggle to balance new responsibilities, they will begin to see new sides to one another-- sides that Phillip has been taught never to look for, and sides that Anne is not ready to explore. But with the wizarding world taking new steps every day towards war, Hogwarts must cling to unity stronger than ever... Especially the two students who are the face of it all.

Word Count: 3,036

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Basically It’s Gonna Go How You Expect It To Go

Chapter: 6 of ?

Read it on Wattpad or AO3.

Playlist

Song of the Chapter: "Whole Lot of Heart" by Tegan and Sara

Chapter Six: The Patronus Charm

Phillip and Wheeler spent most of the rest of the afternoon moving around the Common Room together, silent as they could be around one another. It was not uncomfortable, but it was slightly charged... Just enough to keep Phillip from retreating completely into his own mind. Both had a massive amount of work to do, and if they did manage to finish all of their homework and Head duties, there were Quidditch plays to attend to. As they sat at their desks, Phillip thought about how much he had to attend to. It should have been easy to focus.

But it wasn't, and it was the fault of the Ravenclaw who was currently sitting at the desk across from him with a mug of her disgustingly strong tea and a smudge of ink on her nose.

Everyone knew that Anne Wheeler was an exceptional player, and there countless passes that she had made that were incredible. Many people had seemed to think that these passes were too difficult to even be possible, and with good reason. Many involved her rolling her broom completely upside down to catch a pass, while she held on with only her legs. Phillip had never before understood how she could do such things, but he did now, and it mesmerized him. He had never seen anyone fly like that with a broom... It was as if Anne Wheeler had taken something that had been done one way for as long as it existed and made it her own.

His mind replayed what he had seen. Every movement was fluid and graceful, and she kept each inch of her body under control. He remembered the way that, even when she was holding on with her feet dangling in the air, they were perfectly pointed and held in graceful stance. His mind replayed her descent towards him, where she seemed to walk down invisible steps as she closed the distance between them like some sort of angel. Her soaked curls, which had framed her face like a halo, only added to the illusion of Wheeler as some sort of seraph. As he tried to focus on Herbology, his mind instead returned to the Quidditch Pitch.

When it returned to the pair of them, rolling in the sand until he was above her, inches from full lips, he stopped it suddenly.

He did not know what he was thinking. He had only just gotten out of hot water with Wheeler, and they were still working through tension following the Quidditch Pitch. During the day, he spent time with his group of elites, listening to their gossip and rants and steering the conversation away from Wheeler whenever possible. Yes, they were partners now, but she had made it clear that there wasn't anything more.

Did he want there to be?

Wheeler went to bed before him, leaving Phillip alone to struggle through Potions. They were studying Amorentia, which meant that they soon would be making an attempt at creating the devilishly tricky potion, so he needed to understand it. When he finished that, he pulled out his wand in order to practice for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

They were supposed to be practicing the Patronus charm, something that was rumored to be able to earn them a massive amount of points on the exam if it was corporeal. Phillip had succeeded in producing his before, the year previous when it was mentioned that it would be necessary to know the spell for their exams. It had worked for him then, but he had not attempted the spell for several months now, and he knew it took extreme effort. He did not want to look like a complete novice in class, not when it was the Seventh Year and it was more important to be prepared than ever before.

Not when the things they were studying were becoming more and more necessary for survival.

Dementors were almost completely out of the control of the Ministry of Magic now, at the Dark Lord's prerogative. They prowled the streets of England and were slowly becoming less concentrated, drifting into Wales and beginning to float across the seas, stopping only to seize a wayward seaman's soul. This kept the Aurors occupied while the Dark Lord focused on what he wanted to. It was much harder to stop that attacks on Muggles when the entire force of wizard fighters was struggling to contain the creatures of darkness and devastation.

Phillip was safe, he tried to remind himself sometimes. But he wasn't really, because after this countless members of his class who had been the main instigators behind the attacks on Muggles would be joining the side of the Dark Lord. And he would be expected to join them.

Phillip swallowed hard as he clutched the handle of his wand in his palm, ignoring the thought.

Instead, he pointed the wand in front of him and murmured, "Expecto Patronum." A spurt of silvery mist left his wand, but it went no more than an inch from the tip. When the mist settled around his hand it provided a cooling sensation that faded quickly, along with any of the light. Phillip furrowed his brow and raised his hand, saying it with more determination this time. "Expecto Patronum!" He fed the spell his happiest memory steadily, as though he were feeding kindling to a fire. The memory involved his first night at Hogwarts, having the hat set onto his head and the whole room burst into cheers. He had been so terrified that it would send him anywhere else, that he would be in the same position that young Edison had without any way of explaining to his parents what had happened. The relief had been the most powerful thing that he had felt to that point in his life, and maybe since.

Silver left his wand again, forming a cloud of mist that would surely provide a slight layer of protection from a dementor so that someone else could take it down. But there was no hint of anything within the mist, not the form of any shape that would be capable of driving the creature off on its own. Phillip let out a groan of frustration through gritted teeth, and the cloud dissipated quickly.

"You're too calculated." Phillip stiffened, and when he turned, he found Wheeler standing on the stairs that led to their dormitory. She was wrapped in the blanket from her bed, which was a deep blue over what appeared to be a men's t-shirt and old flannel pajama pants. Wheeler's curly hair was pulled up into a ponytail, but it was a mess from sleep and little portions stuck out all over the place. Her eyes were sharp, but lines of sleep surrounded them, and her lips appeared slightly dry the way anyone's were when they woke up. She looked amazing.

What would she look like in one of his shirts, he found himself wondering?

Phillip shook his head quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. "I've done it before, and I did it just like this."

"I remember, I was in your DADA class," she retorted, waking over to the kettle. She put water on, and he watched her move throughout the kitchen to fetch the tea he knew she liked for bed. Sometimes, when he woke, he knew she'd woken up in the night because the jar of lavender and chamomile tea was still out on the counter, because she had forgotten to put it away. He was keeping a mental note of the amount in the jar, and he had a bag of the stuff in his room shoved under the bed. When he was sure she would not catch him, he added a few inches more.

"I know you were, so you saw me," he countered. "I can produce a corporeal Patronus, and this is exactly how I did it."

"So can I, and maybe it worked for you before, but something's changed. Your corporeal was never animated enough anyway, it was stunted by your memory."

"My Patronus is not stunted!" he huffed.

"It's alright, Carlyle, men all over England struggle to put out," she said in a sarcastic voice that mimicked the smooth tones of a Healer. He shot her a look, and she looked satisfied with herself. "It never moved very far from you, and if it's going to chase off a dementor, it has to. It was never as bright as it could have been, either."

"Says who?'

"Fine, you want the blunt version?"

"I wasn't aware that you were capable of giving anything but the blunt version."

His quip produced a sleepy smile from Wheeler, but a smile nonetheless. He wished he could bottle it up, the smile that he had put on her lips. Still, when she spoke, it was with the same grit she always had. "It was never near as bright as mine."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand..." he said slowly. "I've never seen you produce a Patronus, much less a corporeal one."

She shrugged. "Better just to do it for the examiners, have a trick to keep up my sleeve," she replied. "But the point is, your approach to the spell is wrong. It will give you the bare minimum results, but if you want to succeed past that, you have to change it."

"I don't get what you mean," he confessed. "I've been doing everything the way we were taught-"

"I'm not talking about something that can be taught," she said seriously. He stared blankly at her, and Wheeler let out a soft sigh. She fished her wand out of the massive pocket in the flannel pants, and his eyes widened. Was that why she clearly wore guys' pajamas, so she could have her wand on her while she slept? But then, Phillip remembered finding her curled up on the chair, her face streaming with tears and twisted in pain as she let out silent screams. Maybe it made sense.

Wheeler lifted the gleaming handle of her wand, which he noticed was carved in a manner that appeared to be by hand. If he looked very closely, he could see vines of roses curving up the wand's handle with leaves, thorns, and all. She levitated a piece of paper off of his desk, and the Seventh Year school supplies list drifted over to her. "Watch," she instructed. She moved the paper so that it was over the fire, and then, with a murmured spell, it began to shred itself at a rhythmic pace above the fire. The flames leaped a little to claim the paper, but past that, there was no drastic change.

"You aren't using a strong enough spell, which is why you're faltering. Because when you try to give it steady, calculated amounts of your happiness, it isn't going to work. You create a little bit and it falls flat."

"But if I give too much, won't I just exhaust myself?" he said slowly. He understood where she was going with the visual, but there were still points he needed to process.

"That's the point," she hummed. "Dementors... What do they do, Phillip?" Her tone was not derisive as she asked him a question they both knew he could answer.

"They feed on happiness," he said slowly. "They take it all, everything, and then leave a shell."

"Exactly," Wheeler said, and her voice sounded almost proud. "Which is why you have to give it to them without leaving a shell. Everything... An explosion of it, given freely. Because it isn't the lack of happiness that turns you into a shell, it's having it ripped away from you without properly letting go." She raised her wand again, and this time, a massive stack of papers from his desk flew into the fire. The flames roared in a shower of sparks, several of which landed dangerously close to the rug. "You need to completely let everything go if you want to generate the explosion of energy you need."

"That was the revisions to the student handbook I was making."

"But it was for magic." When he saw the mischievous look on her face, he started laughing, and then a truly strange thing started happening... She was laughing too, and they were both relaxed and at ease together in the slightly overheated room.

"Alright, then, Wheeler. Show me how it's done if you're such a pro," he challenged, leaning against one of the chairs.

"Challenge accepted," she retorted, lifting her wand. Wheeler took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and then she murmured, "Expecto Patronum." He was surprised by the quiet take she had on the spell, but he came to the conclusion that she did not need shouted words or gestures of the hand.

Immediately, from the tip of her wand, thick strands of silver fog began to roll into a shape. Wings formed, and then a beak, and a proud chest and a pair of intense eyes. It was a buzzard, a proud one with a hooked beak that looked sharp enough to take out Phillip's eye as it soared through the room and left a trail of mist in its wake. He found himself mesmerized by the animal, watching as it circled up above the vaulted ceiling. The bird seemed to sense his gaze, and it turned its piercing gaze onto him. It was just like looking Wheeler in the eyes.

He turned to look at her, with the ghost of a laugh on her lips and satisfaction in her eyes, and then before he knew it he was lifting his wand and repeating the incantation. He did not feed it the memories of the relief of having met his parents' expectations, the feeling that had been mixed with the fear that he would be just like them. He fed it her smile and their banter and the way her laughter made him feel, and he fed it the uncertainty he felt when he looked at her as he questioned every beat of his heart. He fed it the way she had looked, spiraling through the air like she was a breath of wind and then descending as though she had come from the heavens, in spite of her soaked clothing and wild curls.

From his wand, thick clouds of silver smoke began to flow freely, rolling into the massive shape of an animal-- a bear, with massive, hulking shoulders and a lumbering gait as it began to prowl the common room, peering up at the buzzard above. The creature shocked him as it moved away from him, seeming to take on a mind of its own in a way it never had before. It glowed, bright enough to burn its silhouette into his gaze if he looked too long.

"See?" she hummed, turning to look at him with the hint of a smirk. "Now, just do that in DADA and Professor Barnum will be falling over herself to praise you."

Phillip looked at her for a moment, staring. His eyes were wide, and he did not know what to say. His lips did not seem capable of forming words. "I- Thanks, Wheeler," he finally managed to fumble. His tone caused her to raise an eyebrow.

"Merlin, you need to go to bed, Carlyle," she commented as she poured the hot water from the kettle into her mug, the same one she always used. "It's an exhausting spell, and your body heals when you sleep. Your ego will need it tonight to recover from such a brutal loss to me." She gave him a sweet smile as she picked up the mug and left the room, leaving him alone.

Phillip watched as the buzzard circled the bear, causing the creature to tilt its head and stare. The bird was fading, but Phillip watched its every move until it was gone. His own Patronus turned an expectant gaze on Phillip, and he blinked back at the creature, stunned. His previous Patronuses had been a mere shadow of this... The massive creature had come alive in a way that it never had before.

It had come alive with her, the same way Phillip was starting to wonder if he was.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had gone exactly the way that Wheeler had predicted, with Professor Barnum thrilled to no end by the creature that burst free of his wand. The N.E.W.T level class was smaller, a mix of students from all of the houses, so Wheeler was there as well. Across the room, she had tossed him a smirk that unsettled him because of the way it caused his heart to leap. Rowle and Rosier, who were also in the class, had sat at his side with massive sneers as other students attempted the incantation as if his success somehow carried over to them. When Wheeler went, however, they could find no reason to sneer.

Her buzzard soared through the air for a few moments, seeming to enjoy being the object of awe for the moment. But then, it spotted the bear that Phillip had produced from the night before. The creature opened its beak and allowed a caw to escape as it flew to the familiar creature, and then it perched on the lumbering shoulders of Phillip's Patronus, which had yet to fade. His bear let out a bemused huff, but it made no move to brush off the creature. It was Phillip's turn to give Wheeler a smug grin, and she had quickly looked away from him.

The feeling of success carried over all throughout Phillip's morning, and into the lunch hours. He had not even minded, so much, listening to Fawley and Avery ramble on about some attack on a Muggle building in Cokeworth. He had the full feeling in his chest of knowing he had improved, that he had done well... But part of him wanted to explore why.

Why had Anne Wheeler's presence been the thing he reached for to fuel his Patronus charm? And more than that, why had it worked so well?

[agreateryesterday]

Stucky - Mpreg

Bottom!Steve

Day By Day by orphan_account

(Last updated Oct 18, 2015) 3 chapters

Have you ever wondered what might happen if Captain America never existed? What would the future have been like if Steve had never gotten his wish, had never entered the war? Who is alive...dead...different? But most importantly of all why is it that only Director Fury of SHIELD has a clue in the world that everything has gone wrong? Maybe he can fix the timeline before it is too late...but when a very precious gift is bestowed upon Steve and Bucky are they going to be willing to set things right?

Kept Safe by lionessvalenti

*Finished* One Shot

Steve is pregnant. Bucky has some concerns.

here in the body truth grows palpable by seinmit

*Finished* One Shot

Nine moments of making a life in Wakanda.

you can break everything down to chemicals (but you can't explain a love like ours) by orphan_account

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Steve and Bucky get their happy ending. Plus, lots of sex.

Something New But Needed by ReadWithMePlease0

(Last updated March 30, 2020) 12 chapters

So Civil War was a disaster that hurted everyone mainly Tony who found out the truth of his parents and lost his friend second brother in arms and his avenger family. Bucky simply wanted to keep running but realized that he can’t keep running from the past and ran towards the ice. Then there’s Steve who thought he was fighting for love only to lose his first love and his best friend and brother. But what if as everyone left and went back to their regular life he wasn’t as lonely as he thought he would be. What if he got something I always wanted but know he wouldn’t get.

And Baby Makes Three

Little Family by Merlin_OhMy

*Finished* (Last updated Feb 25, 2018) One Shot, 9 chapters

It's been eighteen months since Civil War, Bucky has his memories back and they're living in Wandka under T'Challa's protection. Steve is heavily pregnant and the boys are about to become parents.

In fact, Bucky thinks they should've had the Avengers Assemble for a baby shower instead of the Accords.Nothing makes peace more than new life in the form of a squishy new baby. And Tony meets Baby James "Jamie" Rogers- Barnes

Once Upon An Us by Stuckylover4ever

(Last updated Jan 24, 2020) 6 chapters

Civil War is over, and the Avengers are trying to get back to normal. Things are still rough at the tower, but Peter hopes everything will work out in the end. He wants the team as a family. Secrets are bound to come out, and lines will be drawn. Clint isn't happy being back at the tower, even with his family there. He is still angry at Tony while everyone else is trying to work through their issues. Follow the Avengers as they learn things about each other and themselves that they never knew. Peter wants everyone to be happy while Tony wants to get through this in one piece without losing his mind.

A new addition to the family. by VitaminBucky

*Finished* One Shot

"Today is the day." Sarah patted her sons shoulders looking at him through glazed eyes. Steve looked handsome in his suit, he wore a traditional black suit that was tailor fitted for his small and fragile frame. "Now that I'm dressed for the occasion I feel nervous, It felt surreal until now." Steve smoothed down his chest hands slightly shaking from the nerves. "Come on, honey, you can't get cold feet now. Bucky's waiting for you on the aisle." Sarah kissed her sons cheek giving him a tight squeeze before leading out of the dressing room.

****Fix****** below is abo

Mistaken by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

He was supposed to have been a Beta. That was supposed to be the end of things. Steve hadn't had a rut or a heat by his 13th birthday, so the only conclusion was that he was a Beta.

Once Upon A Time And Long Ago by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

So here they were, back in their apartment, Steve lying prone on the bed while Bucky pattered about in the kitchen doing who knew what. There was little Steve felt he had the energy for; his entire body felt heavy and his joints ached, and it all came with a strange sense of nostalgia. He’d spent so much of his youth cooped up in his bedroom, small and sickly, that being so weak and tired was quickly making him spiral into a strange headspace and he wasn’t sure he liked it so much.

The one where Steve gets his period by chilibabie07

*Finished* One Shot

Steve is on his period and Bucky is his usual dedicated, protective self.

Enough by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

Bucky had been over the moon when Steve had told him that they were expecting. They’d been afraid that even after everything they’d gone through and all the effort that had gone into their recovery to get them both to this point of being mentally and physically in a place to have a family, that the things HYDRA had done to Bucky would have left him sterile. It had taken a while, but eventually it had happened for them, and though Steve found himself less enthusiastic with all the morning sickness and fatigue, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Especially with how doting Bucky was now, it was endearing, really.

Stay Alive by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

“Bucky, please,” Steve was begging now, tension and fear curling harshly in his gut, “You have to get out of there now.” There was a beat of silence, and then, “Yeah, okay, on my way back out now.” Just as Steve gave a soft sigh of relief, there was distant gunfire that crackled over the comms. And then the line went dead, the building exploding on the screen before Steve’s very eyes, and he was positive his heart stopped beating.

Painting the clouds with sunshine by Royal_Ermine

(Last updated June 5, 2020) 50 chapters

Second World War bomber pilot and native New Yorker Bucky Barnes gets dispatched to the ancient city of York in England, where he falls desperately in love with a gorgeous local boy called Steve Rogers.

Surprise by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

“Stevie, what’s the matter?” he asked, coming to sit beside Steve. “I- I don’t know , Buck, it hurts so bad,” he gasped out, the pain peaking before slowly ebbing away, “It hurts.” It alarmed Bucky to see Steve so distraught over pain -- Steve was never a complainer, to the point where it was detrimental to his health, really. Hell, there were so many instances where Bucky wished Steve would complain more. So the fact that Steve was all but whimpering had to mean that the pain was excruciating.

Bouncing back by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

“This one’s just so active, I can barely stand it.” she huffed. Steve gave her a look of sympathy, but before he could tell her he knew exactly how she felt, she spoke again, “So when are you due?” He knew she meant well. That it was just small talk, something they had in common. But it just made him want to sink into the floor. He curled in on himself just a little, in an unconscious and futile attempt to hide his swollen middle. “Ah, um,” He swallowed, trying not to get too overwhelmed by the burning humiliation in his chest, “Almost two months ago, actually.” he admitted, his voice small.

Loving You Hurts by AngelsofGlory666

(Last updated May 12, 2019) 12 chapters

James Barnes thought Steve Rogers was his everything and that they were meant to be together forever. It seemed that fate favored him, having made his first love his true mate. They’d bonded and married young. Then the war happened. Steve became Captain America and Bucky became The Winter Soldier. Bucky never thought they would be thrown into a different time, or that Steve would step out on their bond and marriage. Steve Rogers isn’t the man he knew. No matter how messed up in the head Bucky might be, this betrayal can’t be ignored. Now, Bucky isn’t sure he can be with Steve when his senses make him revolt.

Make My Day by Coop_Scoop

(Last updated March 28, 2018) 5 chapters

Bucky saw him across the dance hall and he had no idea what asking for a dance would get him. He would fall in love, go to war and loose everything. But even with all of that he still gets back to Steve.

Taking Care Of You by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

“Stevie.” It was kind of amazing how Bucky could put the entire phrase of ‘relax-you-idiot-it’s-fine-so-stop-worrying’ behind the way he said his name. It was all Steve could do to offer an apologetic look. “I’m fine.” he said. “If I didn’t think I could handle being around you right now, I wouldn’t have come.” he added pointedly as he knelt down at his bedside, to which Steve could only nod concedingly. He wasn’t about to argue, not when having Bucky here was so reassuring. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

The Wild Cradle by Stuckylover4ever

(Last updated April 20, 2019) 7 chapters

It was an eat or be eaten world. Everyone was out for blood. Two mobs had taken over New York, The Starks, and The Bartons. Both of them were out for blood. It was plain to see that they would do anything to take the others out. Barton had Natasha Romanov while Stark had Barnes. Both of them were good at their jobs, and neither of them missed a kill that they were set out to kill. The two hated each other in school, and nothing was going to change that. Now they were forced to work together on a kill while trying to survive. Barnes had a family to get home to while Romanov had no one at home or so she thought. Bruce loved her, and she loved him even if she didn't know it. Both loved to have sex with each other. Let's see how well they work together and can they make it home in one piece without killing each other first.

Bucky has a belly kink, but Steve doesn’t mind in the least by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

“Can’t tell if I want to keep you in this outfit and just look at you,” Bucky murmured, pulling back just enough so he could look Steve in the eye as he ran a hand over the bralette. Not too long ago, Steve’s milk had started to come in, and his chest had begun to fill out though not by much. However, it was enough to strain the lace cupping his breasts, and he knew very well how good it made him look to Bucky. “Or if I wanna rip it right off of you.” “Don’t you dare rip this, I spent good money on it.” Steve teased, his own hands coming up to ghost up Bucky’s sides. “But I also think it’d be a waste if you just looked at me.” He chuckled. “I’m yours to have, Buck.” he added meaningfully.

Neglected Happiness by truleedevastating

*Finished* 17 chapters

The journey of Steve and Bucky's relationship.

Best Laid Plans by Crematosis

*Finished* One Shot

Bucky is determined to have sex with his omega without knotting him. Too bad Steve's not on board with the plan.

The Worst Thing

The Best Thing by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shots

‘Next time,’ Bucky would always say, ‘We can try again next time.’ But Steve didn’t want to have to keep trying for next time. Bucky shouldn’t have to keep trying. There was no question that this was Steve’s fault -- no question that he was the defective one. The frustration and self-loathing festered and stewed, getting worse with every failed heat.

He had to read the result aloud several times before it really sank in, and even then, he felt like the joy he was feeling was somehow subdued, muted almost. Two lines. A little plus sign. Pregnant. Steve’s voice was strangled when he called out for his mate, but Bucky had appeared in an instant, the worry evident in his eyes, but as soon as he saw the stick of plastic Steve held in shaking hands, he gathered Steve in his arms and held him tight. He said nothing, but Steve believed that Bucky knew the strange and almost reluctant feeling of conflict in his chest. He wondered if Bucky felt it too.

These Days by moonythejedi394

*Finished* 35 chapters

"It’s like a newsreel in his head, continually scrolling across his mind’s eye: LOCAL TWINK SUGGESTS BENEFITS TO FRIENDSHIP, ACCIDENTALLY FALLS IN LOVE. WHEN INTERVIEWED, THE CONSCIENCE OF THE SELF-PROCLAIMED SLUT ONLY HAD ONE THING TO SAY: “Whoops???” As a wise man once said, Steve will keep all his emotions right here and then, one day, he’ll die. He’s Irish and everything, so the quote completely applies to him…" Meet. Date. Fall in love. Get married, buy a house, get a dog/cat/bird/ect, discuss children either because you want to have them or you’re going to have them (whoops), have said children. Watch said children grow up and go to college and make some of the dumb mistakes you once made. Get some grandkids along the way. Grow old together and romantically die in your sleep on the same night. But, the most important thing is this: Meet, date, fall in love, then have kids. Steve never was good at following the rules. Bucky's just along for the ride.

Slick by thisisalljustsin (buckybarnesismyhusband)

*Finished* 2 chapters

Steve seeks out help for his heat and ends up meeting Bucky through Natasha.

The Scent of Home by cleo4u2, xantissa

*Finished* One Shot

The Soldier tracked his Target, Nicholas J. Fury, to the apartment complex. He had seized control of the security systems. It would be an easy kill. It should have been an easy mission. If only there wasn't that hauntingly familiar scent...

In Memories and Details by ThottyBarnes

(Last updated Jan 15, 2019) 1 chapter

In which Alpha!Bucky Barnes and Omega!Steve Rogers get through life through memories and details.

Collared by Milk_Tea_Fantasy

(Last updated Dec 11, 2017) 2 chapters

Steve finds the box wedged under the mattress with a couple of dirty mags and a box of cigarettes. He’s not snooping- he’s not- it’s just, Bucky’s been acting awful suspicious lately and three nights ago when he thought Steve was asleep he snuck home with something in his jacket pocket and hid it right here, between the mattress and the wooden slats of the bedframe.

Love Comes In On Little Cat Feet by Space_and_Thyme

(Last updated May 25, 2020) 7 chapters

When Steve ends up confined in his apartment due to a massive blizzard that hits New York, he finds his world completely up-ended by a knock on his door. Everything that he thinks he knows about himself, the world, and the works of the universe are about to change... In which Steve is lonely, living on his own in Brooklyn, and Bucky is a Tiefling (and an Alpha) from a parallel world who accidentally crosses over and decides to try and win the affections of the smaller man. Plenty of humour and ridiculousness to ensue.

lift me up by greenbergsays

*Finished* One Shot

Steve worries that Bucky preferred his smaller, more Omega-appropriate body to the new, bigger, more Alpha-like body of Captain America. Bucky finds that thought utterly ridiculous.

Take You With Me by howdoyousleep, the1918

*Finished* 2 chapters

“Okay, yeah, s’okay,” he shushes, tries to calm him, “thank you. I want it too, and I’m so happy you asked, sweetheart.” Another sweet name, and Bucky just can’t seem to hold them in anymore. “But I’m going to ask you a question, okay? And I need you to be honest with me. No matter what you answer, I promise that I’ll still want to do this.” Steve looks wary and still nervous but also a little curious. He nods, signaling for Bucky to continue. Bucky draws in a long breath, and lets it out. “Has anyone ever taken you before?”

Sergeant Hot Pants by cleo4u2

*Finished* One Shot

When Sergeant Bucky Barnes is assigned to temporarily take over for Maria Hill, Steve can't quite keep his shit together. Not around Bucky, who is the hottest Alpha Steve's ever seen.

Bare My Soul. by BeautifulWriter

(Last updated May 13, 2020) 3 chapters

"I'll follow him til the end of the line."

Lost and Found by DelphiniumLily

(Last updated Oct 4, 2017) 1 chapter

Steve's been captured by Hyrda and he's undergone more trauma but, as usual, Bucky comes to the rescue.

Finding Sunlight by angel_with_a_nuclear_bomb

*Finished* 2 chapters

Captain America is an Alpha. His figure impresses everyone, even the opinionated politicians who never seem to agree on anything can agree on that. Steve Rogers however, is another matter entirely. On one fateful mission with a sorceress with a... specialized... power turns Steve's life upside-down. With the return of his long-lost Alpha Bucky Barnes, how will Steve adjust to the world -Or is it the world that will have to adjust to Steve?

Like Sugar by jellygrass

(Last updated Sep 29, 2017) 1 chapter

“Wait!” Steve repeats, calling out to the empty hallway when he finally gathers his wits and pushes himself up to his feet. “Where are you going?” His heart is thumping rapidly in his chest, and he feels even more at a loss than he did when he woke up from the ice alone and utterly confused. He doesn’t know why it feels like a part of him is missing— he doesn’t even know the man’s name; the man killed someone, but he holds his breath all the same and wants. There’s no reply, however, only silence and the lights dotting the hallway that seem to stretch on forever.

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham

*Finished* One Shot

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name. Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City. He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Synchrocity by LadyAngelique

*Finished* One Shot

After a multitude of hardships, healing, loving, and planning--they’re finally here. Their impossible dream can finally come true…to start a family.

A gift that I can't (will) give you by nonotwithoutyou

*Finished* One Shot

Steve Rogers lives in an almost perfect life. But the only thing he wants the most, is the only one he can't get.

Always Been Yours by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

Steve goes into heat. Bucky helps in the only way he knows how, and he remembers that this is how it used to be.

once we've settled by HgF_Atc

*Finished* One Shot

What if Bucky didn't fall from the train, and instead he crashed the Valkerie together with Steve?

I Got You

In Which Steve Rogers Learns He's Pregnant by skvsolo

*Finished* (Last updated Aug 14, 2017) One Shot, 18 chapters

A year into searching for Bucky, Steve finds him.

It's been roughly ten weeks since Bucky fucked him senseless in some abandoned HYDRA facility. The team is getting tired of how moody he is. Or, the life and times of Steve Rogers as he deals with an unplanned pregnancy, and Bucky Barnes discovering himself again.

Lifting Shadows Off A Dream by ShippersList (part of a series that isn’t strictly Stucky)

*Finished* One Shot

To Steve, family is the people he cares about the most. And family sticks together, no matter what.

One for My Baby by seidrlightning

(Last updated Aug 2, 2017) 14 chapters

Steve flopped down on the toilet seat, his wide eyes still glued to the little plus sign. "So," Sam shifted from foot to foot. "What are you gonna do?" Steve continued to stare at the test. Natasha raised a fine brow. "Only you would get pregnant by the first decent male alpha you've met." Steve groaned.

Sticky Situation by thisisalljustsin (buckybarnesismyhusband)

*Finished* One Shot

Steve teased Bucky all day with the promised idea of rough sex.

Some May Say (Love Without Touching) by capforgetful

(Last updated June 10, 2017) 2 chapters

Steve is an omega, headstrong and loud, too firm in his beliefs, and doesn't know how to back down from a fight. Navigating the world as an omega (and not a very good one) is one of the harder things Steve's had to do. But Bucky has always been his support system, even if Steve didn't belong to him. And then the war.

Betrothed Before Birth by cleo4u2, xantissa

*Finished* One Shot

To say Steve was anxious on his wedding night didn’t quite paint the right picture. It didn’t explain the overwhelming pressure to be a dutiful son, a dutiful Prince. The overwhelming responsibility to be a good match, to bring prosperity and safety to his lands. They’d promised him to Prince James if he was an Omega, as the Princeling was an Alpha. There was another deal with another family if he was an Alpha, but… here they were. This union, this chance of providing military power to their small country was a unique chance, and Steve wasn’t going to fuck it up.

I Do, I Don't, I Die by prisma134

*Finished* One Shot

Steve Rogers was not bonded to Bucky Barnes. He was not in a relationship with Bucky Barnes anymore. Bucky had no obligations towards him except a pewter ring that was so faded and rusted that hung on his dog tags. Bucky had no promises to break, because he didn't remember them. Steve was okay with that, he really was. He would have to be, because Bucky wasn't his anymore to have. Instead, Bucky was Natasha's to cherish and Steve was not going to stand in his way. Steve was going to let Bucky go, even if it killed him and even if his heart was shattering into a million pieces to see his best friend--his soul mate--be in a relationship with someone else.

Something to Prove

I’m Over the Moon for You by Cryo_Bucky

*Finished* (Last Updated Nov 9, 2016) 5 Chapters, 1 Chapter

Omega!Steve is the surrogate for Alpha!Bucky's baby, and he is definitely not going to fall in love with a man that wants nothing to do with a mate. It's just his job to provide a baby. He can do this, right?

Steve is still emotionally constipated and Bucky is still completely head over heels for him. David is nearing 4 months old now, will his parents ever pull it together? Maybe Bucky doesn't have his PTSD totally under control, and maybe Steve will finally realize how much Bucky means to him.

No Doubt

No Fear by 4captains

*Finished* (Last updated May 2, 2020) 16 chapters, 11 chapters

Disabled omega Steve Rogers is an employee at a bookstore and cafe run by Omega Clint Barton and Alpha Natasha Romanoff, longtime friends of his. He does deliveries to an assembly shop of Tony Stark's, where prototypes are assembled and improvements are made. This is where he meets strong and capable alpha Bucky Barnes, whose scent is overwhelming...and who feels the same way about Steve.

In the aftermath of the birth of Steve and Bucky's twin children, they have to start asking themselves some serious questions. Do they want a beta? How do they choose? Should they at all? With Steve and Bucky both wanting to spend time with the pups, but preparing to go back to work, they need to decide quickly. What's more, there's serious panic on the horizon as an alarming series of events occurs. If a local pack war isn't prevented, Bucky and Natasha may have to put themselves in harm's way to defend their families.

The Watchful Eye by Shinigami24

*Finished* 20 chapters

A secret society pulls the strings on Capitol Hill. When a potential bill strips Omegas of their rights, Steve, Bucky, and their team delve deep into the inner workings of Washington D.C. for answers.

Not So Bad by Cryo_Bucky

(Last updated Oct 24, 2016) 1 chapter

Arranged marriage AU! Tiny and high-strung Omega Steve is given away into an arranged marriage to Alpha Bucky. Steve has no love of Alphas and is prepared for the worst. Maybe Bucky can convince him otherwise?

Mission: Steve + End of the week = Boyfriend. by yvngp

*Finished* 3 chapters

Bucky is a 6'2 hunk of man that's scared to ask a 5'2 Steve Rogers out. Cue Tony, Thor, Clint, Jarvis, and Wanda to try and help a fellow Winter Soldier get a boyfriend by the end of the week.

But words can wait (until some other day) by Liyah_Ayerst

*Finished* One Shot

Stubborn as he was, Steve refused to believe that Bucky wouldn’t come home to him after the war was over. Not even when his entire division was declared missing in action did he stop waking up expecting Bucky back. Steve never stopped waiting, but neither was he prepared for when Bucky did come home, for what it was he had gone through in the years he was missing. Bucky doesn’t remember his name. Doesn’t remember where he came from either, but he somehow manages to find his way back. Instincts screaming for him to find the mate that They couldn’t quite burn out of him. Bucky may not remember him, but he will protect him.

Best Laid Plans by isabelbarret

(Last updated Aug 28, 2016) 3 chapters

Life's never been simple of Steve Rogers, though he usually only has himself to blame for that. When his mothers dies and he's forced to get an Alpha life seems to get a little more complicated. What he can't seem to figure out is wether or not that for better or for worse.

You Get Me Every Time by Remy_Writes5

*Finished* One Shot

Steve is excited to be able to attend college even though he's an omega. He's surprised to find that the nude model in his art class isn't just an alpha, he's also someone Steve knows.

The House of Winter by kolis10

(Last updated Aug 17, 2016) 4 chapters

In a world of magic & mystery, Steven is the hero of Levram known as the Captain. Unfortunately the country of Der Schädel, led by the mysterious organization known as Hydra has their own ace. A man of terrifying presence & the strength to match the Captain's. He is known as the Winter Soldier. In order to defeat Hydra, Steven volunteers to temporarily revert back to his smaller form in order to infiltrate the Winter Soldier's stronghold. As he searches for anything that can be used to bring down Hydra, Steven makes allies & enemies. All he has to do is survive the increasingly mysterious Soldier who can't seem to decide if he wants to mate with Steven or kill him. Steven can't seem to decide either. But the House of Winter has secrets of its own & the only one who seems to know them all is the Soldier himself.

Glitter on the Sea by mariegarnier

*Finished* 3 chapters

Steve knew Bucky didn't find him attractive or desirable in any way. He wasn't expected to present any time soon, and even if he did turn out an omega, his body couldn't birth children. That didn't stop him from hoping. Bucky knew everyone expected him to find a mate soon, a nice pretty gal to call his. After all, he was a strong, healthy alpha in his prime. If only they knew.

The First Time

My Long Lost Dream

My Little Pup by jedormis

*Finished* One Shots

Steve and Bucky wake up to two things: Steve suddenly leaking slick like a faucet, and Bucky's hard dick.

Steve goes into heat when he's fifteen, and Bucky is sixteen. They mate, and he gets pregnant, but Bucky's father forces them to give the baby up. Years later, now married, they're reached out to by a show aiming to connect families split apart by adoption.

5 times Bucky talked to his pup(s) before they were born, and 1 time Joey talked to his.

A Proper Omega by orphan_account

*Finished* One Shot

Steve is a 1940’s omega. His idea of what it means to be an omega is very different from modern ideals.

Battlefield Triage by MashiarasDream

*Finished* One Shot

Tony doesn’t snoop. He really doesn’t. It is always accidental that he finds out shit that he never wanted to know. Or: the one in which the battlefield triage does not go quite as planned.

Bond To Soul by layzicfish

(Last updated April 5, 2016) 4 chapters

Basically just re-writing the Captain America 2: The Winter Soldier plot in an ABO dynamics AU, where Bucky is an Alpha and Steve is an Omega, they are a bonded pair, where their bond still exist even after Bucky fell of the cliff, and how is Steve dealing with this after coming out from the ice.

Lost and Found by Kellyscams

*Finished* One Shot

After losing his place to live, Steve Rogers moves in with his Alpha best friend, Bucky Barnes. But after a hectic two weeks of packing and rushing around to move across town, Steve wakes up one of his first mornings in his new home in an unexpected heat and unable to find his normal supplements. With hormones, scents, and feelings being thrown around... there's no telling what'll happen.

Remedy by earthseraph

*Finished* One Shot

It’s been said that mates can feel each other’s emotions if the bond’s strong enough. That they can feel distress, happiness, even when their mate’s cycle’s coming. That it’s almost like the mate’s souls have become one with each other, unable to be split by the universe, and Bucky knows this to be true.

Afterglow by earthseraph

*Finished* One Shot

“How can I help you, Natasha?” He side eyes her as he swipes on deodorant, watching as she files her nails from where she’s perched atop a shorter row of cubbies. “I think the question is how can I help you, James.” “And what do you think you can help me with?” “Steve,” she says simply. He turns to look at her, his mission to find his hoodie momentarily delayed, “I don’t need your help with Steve.” “Yes,” She flicks her eyes up from her nails, “you do.” (Or: The One Where Bucky and Steve are Actually Mates and Bucky Doesn't Know It.)

Beyond the End of the Line by nagapdragon

*Finished* One Shot

Steve Rogers wakes to a world unlike the one he left: a world in which, thanks to his fame, omegas work side by side with alphas and betas and where Captain America has become far more than Steve Rogers can hope to be. He wakes to a world where it's been two weeks going on seventy years since his bond broke, but he's still feeling the effects of his loss.

But Tonight I Need To Hold You So Close by xXxClassifiedxXx

*Finished* 6 chapters

Steve is an omega but he doesn't scent like one. Bucky knows it's there because he always has his nose against Steve's neck when they share body heat when it's cold out or when Steve is sick. Like right now.

Lost and Found

In Repair by GraduateGraduate

*Finished* (Last updated May 18, 2019) 10 chapters, 5 chapters

Omega!Steve has adjusted to life in the 21st century without his mate, Alpha!Bucky. But his life is turned upside down when a certain assassin comes for him.

Steve’s found Bucky, but he’s not entirely his old self. They turn to Natasha and Clint to help Bucky work through his trauma. Bucky has a long road through recovery ahead.

The Season of Honey by notallbees

(Last updated Sep 1, 2015) 4 chapters

Steven is Prince of his kingdom, and according to tradition, royal omegas are deflowered by the champion of a tournament on their sixteenth birthday. Ser James is a knight returning to the capital for a chance to compete, and though it's been years since he last saw the Prince, his heart belongs to Steve still. But before the tournament can take place, the castle is stormed by invading barbarians, who abduct Steve with the intent to sell him at a Southern slave market. Will the rescue expedition, led by Ser James, arrive in time to avert disaster?

Friends Close and Enemies Closer by xXxClassifiedxXx

*Finished* One Shot

Steve Rogers hasn't had a proper heat in over seventy years due to being frozen and losing his mate. However, Steve still feels like an inadequate mate because he could never give Bucky a child before the serum. But when an assassin called the Winter Soldier appears, Steve will realize that all is not lost and that there is still hope.

Coming home by Gonardo

*Finished* One Shot

Steve finding Bucky and rescues him from Dr. Zola

Worth Saving by Prentice

*Finished* One Shot

It’s a cliché thing to admit but Steve remembers his Alpha’s knot the best.

Bite marks by Faychen (not strictly Stucky)

(Last updated Nov 3, 2018) 1 chapter

Its Halloween and everything peter wants is to go home, but little does he know, that two man are watching him. The Omega-gene is going extinct and the public doesn’t even know anything about it. But Tony Stark isn’t willing to give up. He´s looking for a way to rescue the Alpha/Omega - Dynamic in a world over flood by ignorant Betas. He is willing to do everything and take it one or two steps to far.

Morning Delights by himawri45 (kotaka_kun)

*Finished* One Shot

When Steve woke to the mouth-watering smell of his Alpha’s rut, his first pulsing thought was ‘Want,’ only for it to be quickly followed by a terribly urgent ‘Now.’ He could feel the insistent press of his Alpha’s cock nestled neatly against his ass, and he took a moment to arch his back, pressing into it some more until he coaxed a breathy groan out of his mate. Grinning sleepily, he turned over in bed, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss to Bucky’s lips, only to be stopped halfway there by a loud snore. Steve blinked. Bucky, with his lips parted just so, a bit of drool dribbling down from them, was still fast asleep.

Life Happens by savepowbuckybarnes (Wholocked)

(Last updated Sep 29, 2018) 1 chapter

It was crazy to think that just a few weeks ago Steve had thought his life couldn’t get any more interesting. After waking up in the 21st century, though, everything that happens to him seems to be more and more unexpected. Fighting aliens, discovering he was pregnant... it was all pretty overwhelming. Just when he thought that he has being a single parent figured out, a group of hikers find Bucky at the bottom of a ravine, frozen but alive. Or: the process of Steve and Bucky finally getting the life and family they deserve in the 21st century.

Post: Part 3

[twopoppies]

I got a fic request from one of my followers to give her a list of Larry fics with “a touch of art, medicine, and/or magical creatures". 

It got awfully long mostly because I love magic fics, so I’ll put the recs under the cut. Also, I’m ashamed by how few Medical fics I’ve read! 🙈 Anyway, I hope you find some you enjoy!

Magical Creatures

May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home by loadedgunn

Harry thought he had a handle on things. He hasn’t gotten papped in over a month, even the most zealous of fans have given up on finding his location, the Fortress is starting to look hospitable, and Niall just learned how to make shrimp bisque. Even having a massive crush on a gorgeous mythical woodland creature was working out for him.

Most of the time.

On March 31st, Harry Styles disappears. Though many speculate, only two people know where to find him: Niall, his former guitarist, and Zayn, who follows where Niall leads.

The fact the biggest boy band in the world broke up two weeks earlier might be related to the disappearance. The fact Harry meets a fairy named Louis in the woods is a whole other matter.

(Liam is a centaur.)

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore @mediawhorefics

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

Coax The Cold by MediaWhore @mediawhorefics

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

The Devil You Know by Awriterwrites @a-writerwrites

Harry walked slowly to the door, an eerie sense of déjà vu rolling over him. “Who is it?” he called out through the varnished maple.

“Can Harry come out to play?” The voice on the other side of the door was light and airy, musical, with a raspy edge.

Louis.

Harry felt his pulse race a little before he found words. “Harry’s not home right now.” He smirked.

There was a pause and then a light tap-tap-tap on the door, right at Harry’s ear. “Bullshit.”

**** Louis is a vampire. Harry is probably too curious for his own good.

Waiting On You by emma1234 @lads-laddylads

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there. 

love is divine by stylinsoncity ( @alienproof )

Being a witch doesn't help when it comes to unrequited love.

as we move slowly by snsk

"You know what color your wings are?" Harry asked conversationally, on his stomach at the tattoo parlor, while Louis played absentmindedly with one dangling hand and flipped through some designs.

// Alternatively: Louis grows wings. Harry is the only one who can see them.

Domestic Monsters (series) by @g-uttertrash

Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.

And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.

(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren't exactly what they seem...

I Will Never Rust by stylez

What was Harry meant to say? Yes Louis, I’d date you. I want to make you come repeatedly so that must mean I have a thing for you yeah? No. Because it doesn’t mean that, because Harry refuses to get attached to anyone he wants to fuck.

or

Harry wants to suck more than just Louis’ blood but Louis refuses to sleep with Count Dickula.

Among The Humans by @the-cheshire-pussy-cat

A gothic, modern day vampire romance between a young human named Louis Tomlinson, and Harry Styles, ancient vampire and gentleman.

Creatures of the night come with more trouble than they wish to make it seem.

finding you was hard (but loving you is easy) by togetherwecouldbealright

An incredibly shameless vampire!AU filled with stupid jokes, endless dates, flappy bird, a bro man dude pal sleepover thing and there also might be some sex in strange places.

Also known as the one where everyone is a vampire, Louis is oblivious and somewhere along the way it becomes a bit too much like Twilight.

Then a string of thoughts make themselves clear in Louis’ head. First, Harry is a vampire. Second, Louis is a dumbass. Third, Louis is also unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. Fourth, he’s pretty sure he just quoted the back of the Twilight book.

We’ve got the world in our hands by sarcasticfluentry

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

Magic

because I don’t know that many magical creatures fics, but these ones are magical and are so good as well!

ain’t had none like you in a while by istajmaal

It kind of sucks that instead of using time travel to go back and kill Hitler, Simon Cowell chooses to use it to get his clients to advise younger versions of themselves. Sixteen-year-old Harry's not bitter, it's just that his relationship with Louis was complicated enough before he saw him with hot dad hair.

One day to believe in you by mediaville

A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it's really inconvenient.

Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. "You think about me when you get off?"

"Yes," Louis says. He wonders how hard he'd need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.

"Often?"

"Yes, Christ, Harry," Louis groans. "Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I've been visiting family. Anything else you'd like to know?"

the bearded stranger by @juliusschmidt​

Harry wakes up to a bearded stranger in his bed.

(Make You Want To) Scream by @lululawrence​

While Louis' left hand plays with his nipple, his right reaches down and wraps around his dick and that's when he really knows something is wrong.

The dick in his hand does not feel like his own.

like a boomerang by @youwill​

AU in which Harry gets trapped in a lift, Louis gets stuck in a Wednesday, and it's always February 2nd. Until it isn't.

I’ll Know My Name As It’s Called Again by pukeandcry

Louis wakes up in Harry's body. This is a problem for several reasons.

the impossible now by stylinsoncity @alienproof​

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Come Along With Me by darkofthenights @jimmytfallon​

"A little magic can take you a long way." — Roald Dahl or An AU where Harry is a magician and Louis doesn't believe in such a thing.

Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry

A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes by Teumessian

Louis is just 18 and ends up in 2015 for one day at Harry’s request, one day to make sure his spirit is strong and hopeful enough to take him to the X Factor and end him up where he’s supposed to be. Aka, the one where Harry makes sure Louis knows how amazing he is.

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright

“Alright, alright. No need to bite,” Harry says, holding his hands above his head in a general gesture of surrender.

Louis quirks an eyebrow and his foot nudges Harry’s as he moves to sit straight. “If that’s what you think biting is, you’ve got another thing coming, Styles.”

Harry blinks at him before he feels his face flush and inside the marrows of his bones there’s pulses of heat, pulses of fire spreading through him. “Is that a threat, your Highness?”

“That’s a promise,” Louis answers just as the car halts to a stop. “One I intend to keep.”

Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.

Art 

I included one where the art involved is writing/poetry because the fic in question does such a lovely job of discussing art as a concept that I just couldn’t resist...but otherwise, I only included ones where the art referenced is painting/drawing etc. I’m sad that I don’t know more!

Little Technicolor Things by @tekhnicolor

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

I would name the stars for you (I would take you there) by impetuous

"Harry Styles is a poem waiting to happen, Louis thinks, eyes tracing peach flesh and the undercurrent of blue veins. He wants to write him all down, to capture the image of green eyes and red lips and skinny wrists... dark ink spilled across the page."

Or a vaguely Notting Hill-like AU (or that made for TV Disney movie Starstruck if you’ve seen it… no? Just me?) starring popstar!Harry and bookkeeper/soulful poet!Louis; and including guest appearances by Fate, a wise elderly aristocrat, and lots and lots of pining.

Starry, Starry Night by xxSterre (WIP)

Artist AU based on a tumblr prompt by youngandmadeof.

AU where Harry’s getting a degree in fine arts but he’s always envied street artists their freedom and the thrill coming from illegal activity. One day, he notices a particular graffiti and decides to paint into it. Louis does graffiti. One day, somebody starts messing with his murals.

Medicine

why do I only know one?

Lonesome When You Go by 13ways @13ways-of-looking

Harry, Louis, Niall, and Liam are surgeons-in-training at the most prestigious program in the United States.

More than that, Harry and Louis have a history unknown to the others, a history that involves dogs and God, anatomy lessons, food fights, vinyl jazz records, and one hell of an oyster tour.

A story of trust and friendship, of poetry and rock and roll, pink-tinged dawns and the darkest nights.

A tale of portraits, tattoos, and everlasting love.

Edit: How did I forget you @afirethatcannotdie?

Do Not Go Gentle 

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

[viewfromthedrumstool]

Sri Lanka Diary, Part 1/4

London to Kandy to Nuwara Eliya

It’s early on a rainy Thursday afternoon in January when I leave Oxford. Even under grey skies it still looks beautiful but I’m glad to getaway all the same. As per tradition, my January is fairly empty work-wise — the musician’s quiet month — so Harry ‘Deaco’ Deacon (bass player with Razorlight and Willie J Healey, among numerous others) and myself are heading east to Sri Lanka!

Two weeks of freedom in ‘The Land Of Serendipity’ is a tasty prospect – even without mention of the food. So to Heathrow I go, where a Thai waiter called ‘Servinio’ serves up my final taste of England - a passable fish pie - at The Curator before I board Sri Lankan Airways flight UL504 and we soar up to 31,000 feet.

↑ For your own safety and comfort please stow your bongos securely

It only takes American Sniper (better than expected) and half of Django Unchained (I‘ll be back for the rest) before I pass out. Deep in slumber I remain for the duration of the 10-hour flight before waking to a tasty Sri Lankan fish breakfast and a rapid descent into Bandaranaike International Airport.

Inside the airport it’s clinical and clean and the staff all wear white – though ominously a solitary Pizza Hut greets us before even reaching Passport Control… hopefully not a sign of things to come.

It’s early on a sunny Friday afternoon as I emerge from the terminal, dazed and disoriented, into the frenzied bustle and hustle of a Sri Lankan street. A hundred tuk-tuk drivers spy my pale skin and circle like vultures... airports are heady hunting ground for grifters the world over and it takes a feat of negotiating to convince a rickshaw driver to take me to the nearby bus station for less than the cost of my return flights...

Deaco has been out here for a few days already and has journeyed as far as Kandy, a small city in the middle of the island. It’s a four-hour passage to get there by bus and we meander along at a fair pace, slowly picking up elevation as the journey progresses. I’m a little weary but it’s an enjoyable ride – and very cheap too at 162 rupees (70p)!

There’s barely a junction or a turning to be made on the route east, just a long winding road up into the mountains, flanked by huts, houses, schools and shops. As they say in Asia: Same same but different. And despite being on another continent, many of the characters on the bus are familiar: a group of young mums gossip, school kids play, and my new friend and seat-mate Hashan, on his way to visit an Aunt, promptly falls asleep in my armpit.

The bus pulls in at Kandy station and Hashan peels himself from my underarm. I disembark and hop in a final tuk-tuk up to the pre-emptively named ‘Best Hostel’ where Deaco awaits. It’s his Birthday today! Many Happy Returns to the chap, and after a joyous reunion, we enjoy a celebratory dosa in town with a third travelling companion, Tom, from St Louis, MI.

Kandy is a vibrant little city popular with tourists and centred around a man-made lake. There’s a wiggly road that skirts its perimeter and I can’t help but think it would make for a great tuk-tuk Grand Prix – or at the very least a Kandy Lake track level on Mario Kart.

Harry takes me to see all the tourist attractions – which is kind, given he’d already been to see them before I arrived. We start at the Botanical Garden, a scenic spot with an impressive suspension bridge and a beautiful display of different grasses (who knew there were so many). We bump into old friends of his too: an odd pair of Russians with whom he shared a hostel earlier in his trip. The tourist trail is a well-trodden one and bumping into familiar faces hundreds of miles down the road is a common occurrence ... I suspect it isn’t the last time we’ll see them.

Next we enjoy a display of ‘Kandy Kultural Dancing’ (plate-spinning, back-flipping, fire-walking and some enthusiastic drumming) before heading over to The Temple of The Tooth, the centrepiece of the city and one of the biggest attractions in Sri Lanka.

As the name suggests, the focal point of the large Buddhist temple complex is a single tooth mounted atop a magnificent gold shrine. And not just any tooth! Indeed, the famous fang is allegedly one of the Buddha’s very own, pulled from the funeral pyre of his body back in 543 BC. It has a chequered history and the controversial canine has already been responsible for more than one war...

We barely catch a glimpse of the shrine, let alone the tooth itself, which as it turns out is safely tucked away inside a box within a box within a box within a box within a box within a box within a box. Only a handful of people have ever seen the holy fragment which leads one to wonder whether the tooth is literal or simply more a state of mind...

Tooth or no tooth, there’s a lively atmosphere in and around the Temple as night falls, while tourist and Buddhist alike are harmoniously integrated in a melange of worship, ceremony, prayers and music.

Feeling a little more spiritual, we rise early the following day and head to Kandy station for the 0847 train to Nuwara Eliya. It’s another small city further south in the hill country of the Central Province. The scenic journey that will take us there is apparently the stuff o’ legend and needless to say we aren’t the only ones with the idea. The platform at Kandy station is soon teeming with tourists – including a pair of familiar Russians!

First Class has long since been reserved by the coffin-dodgers on the package tours, so it’s a tight squeeze in the Second Class compartment. Not concerned with seats, we locate ourselves by an open door for the duration and take it in turns with our fellow travelling companions (the usual suspects – Aussies, Germans and more Russians) to hang out the side, take pictures and wave at those who call this beautiful land their own.

↑ Third Class can be found at the rear of the train, attached by rope

The train canters along at a pleasant pace, weaving in and out of tea plantations while the native folk enjoy their peaceful Sunday in the beautiful Sri Lankan hill territories. With much more rain up here, the scene is more colourful than the sandy beige of the lowlands, with plants, trees, grasses, shrubbery and foliage in every shade of green. Many of the quaint little stations (my favourite is called Ohiya) along the way have a distinctly English feel, reminding me with fondness of the Malton-Scarborough route oft ridden in my youth.

After 4 idyllic hours watching the country scroll by and chatting with new friends, we disembark at Nanuoya Station and our friendly cab driver Pryantha (+94 778 880213) takes Harry, myself and a handful of Aussies into Nuwara Eliya to drop us at our respective hotels.

At least that’s the plan, except Pryantha nor anyone else that he asks has actually heard of the ‘King’s Lodge’ and when we eventually arrive at the hotel in the picture the staff there don’t recognise the name either.

All the same, it’s such a pleasant spot overlooking the town that we decide to stay anyway. They show us to their last remaining room, a ‘triple’ which one presumes would surely contain at least two beds given that a triple bed doesn’t exist. In Sri Lanka however, it does, and it looks like tonight Harry and I will be sharing a bed, albeit a large one. (It’s good to know that the liberal Sri Lankans consider a three-way relationship quite normal and are prepared to cater to that in the design and manufacture of both beds and bedding.)

We wander into town for a bite, passing a sign for Grymsby Holiday Bungalow. As a Mariner myself, it’s nice to feel close to home – despite the misspelling – and a passing stranger poses with me for a photo, insisting that it was his Uncle who named the hotel and that it really is named after “Grymsby City in Engerland”.

We’re rapidly becoming fans of the cheap local eateries where the food is always fast and fresh (and there are lots of vegetarian options too). In Nuwara Eliya town we spy a vibrant spot teaming with locals and lay out a mean £1.70 on a dinner of vegetable kotu, egg rotis and dhal curry.

Nuwara Eliya isn’t called Little England for no reason. That night an almighty rain unleashes an unrelenting torrent that bounces off the roof and fills our room with a resonant 80dB of white noise. It’s not until daybreak that the downpour ceases – apparently this happens most nights – and I grab 6 minutes of uninterrupted sleep before heading down to breakfast.

We’re taking a tour of the surrounding area before training down to Ella later in the afternoon and our friendly hosts have hooked us up with their friend Hamza to show us the sights.

He rolls up bright and early in his well-kept rickshaw complete with rain flaps, CD player and anti-marijuana stickers. He’s the happy-go-lucky sort, with enough spoken English to get by and a friendly demeanor. It’s only when he smiles his generous smile that I first glimpse the most rum set of gnashers I’ve ever seen. There’s a section of ill-fitting false teeth, a couple held together with string, and some that barely look like teeth at all. If the Buddha’s canine was anything on Hamza’s I can see why they keep it locked up inside seven boxes.

First stop: Ramboda Falls. The journey alone is a thrill: an endless vista of tea plantations as far as the eye can see. These hill territories are carpeted with them and it’s easy to see why, after the overnight downpour.

Our rickshaw winds its way along the mountainside on a road peppered with pretty stalls selling fresh vegetables: aubergine, potatoes, curry leaves, onions, green chillies, carrots and unexpectedly to me, leeks, which it turns out are a delicious feature in many Sri Lankan dishes.

We swing a final right in a sharp descent and are suddenly confronted by 109 metres of sheer waterfall, a magnificent sight, and in fine thundering voice after the long nights rainfall.

Ramboda Falls holds the claim of being the 729th highest waterfall in the world, a fact which massively undersells what is actually an impressive spectacle. There’s a dangerous and slippery path which snakes up the rocky mountain face, and Hamza insists that it’s well worth climbing for a closer view of the natural wonder. Thankfully I had my Loake brogues only recently re-soled...

While our nature-loving guide takes a moment to scrawl our initials into a tree, an elderly native appears in the undergrowth. The water supply to her village some 5kms away unexpectedly stopped, so she traced the pipe halfway up the mountain to the spot where it was broken and is undertaking a repair job.

The descent is even more deadly, made all the more tricky when two Chinese schoolgirls wearing flip flops execute a reckless overtake and I almost lose my footing. Luckily I needed no dramatic rescue because Hamza’s attention was entirely on Harry. “I like your hair” I overhear him say to my friend. “You look like Robin Hood...”

The next stop on our tour of the Nuwara Eliya district is the Blue Field Tea ‘Factory’. It was opened in 1921 and has changed very little since. Everything is still done by hand and much of the machinery originates from Lincolnshire, Birmingham and Belfast. It’s atmospheric and rich in Colonial, vibes which I love!

Our tuk-tuk swings into the ‘Damro’ factory next but we’re done tea-tasting and ready for something a little more substantial, so Hamza takes us to his favourite buffet. The food is delicious, however, our respective understandings of the term ‘buffet’ are quite different. After sampling a little of everything on display (dhal, different kinds of rice, mackerel, swordfish, curried aubergine, egg curries, sweet and sour vegetables) it’s to our dismay that we’re charged the full price of a meal for every dish! Thankfully the food is so cheap that it doesn’t amount to much.

Finally we’re dropped off at the train station. It’s been a fine day in the company of our friendly tour guide and his willingness to shuttle us around from place to place without constantly asking us for more money is refreshing. Your teeth may be among the worst I’ve ever seen, Hamza, but we’ll miss you.

Part 2/4 follows shortly!

Mike