#and then he went to back to finland . sorry king... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hockeylvr59 · 5 years ago

Text

Life Changes Part 8 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.

Authors Note: Woooo!!! I finally got past my writer’s block and cranked this part out. I had been stuck on it for the past month and now we can move onto some more fun stuff but I needed to establish some connections and such here first for down the road.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Word Count: 2,654

Warnings: none really, some alcohol consumption (on Paul’s part)

________

“If nothing ever changed there’d be no butterflies.”

It was a short drive from the hotel to the Mandalay Bay Events Center. Though Paul’s fingers were entwined with mine during the drive, even his touch couldn’t quell the anxiety I felt as the limo slowed to a halt and the door opened. Paul carefully helped me out of the vehicle and his hand rested low on my back as we started toward the red carpet. The moment we stepped onto the red carpet, however, my anxiety reached its peak and I felt my body freeze in terror. The second Paul saw the look on my face he murmured for Brie to take me inside and that they would meet us there.

By the time the guys rejoined us, Brie had managed to get a glass of water into my hands and she was assuring me that everything was okay. Deep down I knew that we had breezed by the media so quickly and casually that the odds of anyone talking about us were slim. At the same time, I felt guilty that I couldn’t handle the few minutes of formalities of being Paul’s date without feeling like I was going to have a panic attack.

Paul’s arm rested along the curve of my lower back when he approached and he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“Sorry that took so long ladies.” He declared like he wasn’t at all fazed by what had happened. Opening my mouth to try and apologize, I was immediately silenced as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t. You’re fine. I get it...the media is a lot.” My second attempt at apologizing was also shut down when he declared out loud that we should head down to the floor and take our seats.

Though he hadn’t said it, I knew Paul was trying to get me to forget about the red carpet so that it didn’t dampen the rest of the evening. After all, we still had the awards themselves as well as the after-party ahead of us. As we made our way to our seats, Paul occasionally stopped to talk to someone he knew, taking a moment to introduce me as his favorite business manager and date for the evening to each person. The more introductions we got through with no one even noticing my baby bump, the more relaxed I became at the thought that maybe it wasn’t as noticeable as I feared. As Paul had assured me through his texts when he invited me, even if it was noticeable, now that we were mostly away from the media, no one seemed likely to bring it up.

Settled into my seat next to Paul as the awards started I couldn’t help but feel my natural smile returning, the forced smile I had plastered on in the car slowly leaving my face. The first trophy presented was the Calder and it was no surprise when Elias Pettersson was announced as the winner. He’d had such a stellar season and it was really cool getting to see someone so young experience their first career award knowing that it was likely to be the first of many.

Next came the Lady Byng award, and I couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out of me when Aleksander Barkov commented on there being more fans from Finland than from Florida present. It was a classic hockey chirp and I peeked over at Paul to find that he was looking over at me, a lazy grin on his face.

The GM of the year award was given to Don Sweeney from the Bruins and I felt Paul squeeze my hand a little tighter as he talked about his premature sons being his inspiration in his acceptance speech. The moment was heavy for me personally and it was clear that it was for Paul as well by the change in his breathing. As soon as Jason Zucker finished his speech for the King Clancy Award, Paul and Whit moved to slip backstage to prepare for their presentation and Brie slid over a few chairs to sit next to me.

The Norris was given to Mark Giordano of the Calgary Flames and I smiled as he thanked his wife and kids for always putting a smile on his face after a rough night. Hockey is about family after all and it’s always nice to see more of the behind the scenes people get the credit they deserve. Following the presentation of the Norris, Auston Matthews was named as the cover athlete for NHL20 and I couldn’t help but cringe at the fact that he had sweat through his suit.

Paul and Whit presented the Masterton Trophy, and knowing the struggles that Paul had with depression toward the end of his own career it seemed fitting. The award was given to Robin Lehner and his quote on the fact that being mentally ill doesn’t mean you’re mentally weak stuck with me because it was something that could apply to all of us at times. I could see Paul almost getting emotional on stage and it made it hard for me to fight back my own hormonal tears.

The Selke was awarded to O’Reilly and the Jack Adams to Trotz while we waited for the guys to return to their seats, Brie sliding back to her own after sending me a smile and squeezing my hand gently. As Paul settled back in beside me I felt the baby shift, a soft flutter followed by pressure against my bladder. Thankfully the show was more than halfway over and while I wished the baby would shift off of my bladder it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle.

Any thoughts of my bladder were quickly silenced as a discussion about Anderson Whitehouse’s prior meeting with Carey Price was brought up as the next segment for the NHL Fan Choice Feel Good Moment. I remembered having cried the first time I saw it and it was clear that I was going to cry again as tears filled my eyes when Anderson was brought onto the stage and the presenter cued up a video from Carey Price himself.

“Carey is here.” I leaned over and whispered to Biz who looked at me like I was crazy until the man himself appeared on the stage to surprise his biggest fan. The second the two embraced the tears poured and Paul had to reach over with his pocket square in an attempt to prevent me from completely ruining my makeup. At the same time, he was openly crying as well and my heart panged once more knowing that this was affecting him as much as it did me. Men not being afraid of showing emotion was something I loved and was clearly just another factor that drew me to appreciate Paul as a coworker and friend. As the whole audience gave them a standing ovation, Paul’s hand drifted once more to my back rubbing gently.

The Vezina, Messier, and Willie O’Ree awards were some of the last of the night and as each was presented, my growing need to use the bathroom lingered in the back of my mind, slowly becoming more urgent.

It wasn’t at all surprising that Nikita Kucherov won both the Hart and Ted Lindsay trophies for MVP after the season he’d had and I laughed softly as Paul whispered that they were working on scoring him for an interview at some point. As the award show concluded, we lingered in our seats for a moment before Paul moved to track down more people to talk to. He was such an extrovert that it honestly made me cringe sometimes and as he engaged himself in another conversation I moved to steal Brie from Ryan.

“I need to use the bathroom asap. Come find it with me?” I requested. With Ryan aware of where we were, the two of us headed off and by the time I finished using the bathroom given the bump and the dress, Ryan had texted that the guys were waiting for us in the lobby so that we could head to the after-party.

___

By the time we got through Vegas traffic to the after-party, music was already playing on the rooftop bar, alcohol was flowing, and trays of food were being passed around. Leaving me with Ryan and Brie, Paul went to grab drinks for the four of us and when he returned he passed me a cup murmuring that I should just trust him. There was never a doubt that I trusted him so while I had expected to be drinking water all night, I tried the drink Paul had provided and immediately I was hooked as a sweet fruity tang hit my tongue. Chatting with Ryan and Brie for a few minutes about the awards, it wasn’t long until someone approached to chat with the guys. For almost an hour I just stood, tucked into Paul’s side as he chatted with various players about the podcast, hockey, and any shared histories.

Eventually though, my back started to ache and my feet hurt. I didn’t want to interrupt so I didn’t say anything at first, but eventually, Paul leaned down to whisper in my ear that I should go sit on one of the many couches for a bit and just rest. Nodding, I sent him a soft smile before bowing out of the conversation and heading across the room toward an unoccupied couch.

I’d been just people watching for about ten or fifteen minutes when another woman approached.

“Mind if I join you?” She questioned and after assuring her she could my brain finally pieced together who it was that had joined me. Vero Fleury. While Flower hadn’t been nominated for any awards tonight, clearly they had decided to take advantage of their residence in Vegas to come hang out with friends and enjoy the party the NHL put on.

Though I knew who she was, she introduced herself after a moment.

“Leigh Thompson,” I replied. “I’m here with Biz.” I clarified knowing that she was probably wondering how I made my way into a private party.

“Biz’s date...how’d you get wrapped into that?” She teased and I laughed in response knowing that question was beyond accurate.

“I’m the business manager for the podcast and he knows I owe him,” I responded my tone light. “I just don’t owe him enough to endure a sore back and achy feet the entire night,” I added, causing her to laugh softly. For a moment I could feel her eyes on me and she shifted a bit closer so she didn’t have to speak as loudly.

“I remember those days.” She murmured. “It’s all so worth it though.” She assured me and realizing that she had noticed my bump I nodded.

“I sure hope so. Because this little one is wreaking havoc on my body already.” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong...I love them. But single parenthood is hard.” For just a moment I let my hand brush over my bump before resting it at my side again.

“I can only imagine.” Vero murmured and instead of dwelling on that she pulled her phone out of her clutch, opening it to pictures of her girls and their newborn son. For the next little bit, I chatted with her about what to expect with a newborn, the joys and hardships that being a parent brought. I mentioned having to figure out how to make a nursery look like a nursery without being able to paint or hang more than a few things on the walls and Vero immediately jumped into suggestions.

Eventually, Marc-Andre came over to join her and after pushing back my star-struck expression, he chatted about his son and daughters before diving into some stories I could use against Paul if I ever needed them. It wasn’t long before I was laughing with the two of them and had lost track of time. It had been nearly an hour since I had sat down before Paul appeared beside me, his brown eyes just a little glassy from the alcohol he’d consumed so far.

With Paul insisting that there was someone he wanted to introduce me to, I was pulled away from the couch...but not before exchanging cell info with Vero who had insisted that I reach out if I had any questions or just needed someone else to talk to about everything that was rapidly changing in my life. She added that she would send me product suggestions and ideas for the nursery once she was home and had more time to check some things out. I was absolutely interested in whatever advice she had to give because it had been almost two decades since my mom had my sisters and having a baby was certainly different now than it had been then.

With Paul’s guiding hand on my back again, any unease I’d been feeling from being by myself vanished. Crossing the room, Paul immediately butted his way into a conversation.

“Sid...this is who I wanted you to meet.” He declared and instantly a flush crossed my cheeks as I realized that I was now standing in front of the first player I’d ever had a crush on. “Sid. This is our business manager Leigh. She’s a lifelong pens fan.” A million different thoughts flooded through my body, the first of which being that I needed to kill Paul for not giving a girl some warning. Instead, though I did my best to compose myself, reaching out a hand to shake Sid’s outstretched one.

Sid was gracious as always, immediately inquiring about how I’d picked the pens as a team and after responding that it was just kind of what happens when you’re born in Pittsburgh he laughed and nodded, his familiar giggles even better in person than they are on video. Pausing, I commented on how I needed to thank him because it was his being drafted that had gotten me through some of the hardest times in my life and while the rest of the conversation was honestly a bit of a blur, at the end of it, Paul insisted that I take a picture with Sid for posterity's sake.

Sid was subsequently pulled away and immediately I leaned into Paul’s chest, trying to quell the rapid beating of my heart.

“I hate you. Give a girl some warning next time.” I mumbled, causing Paul to laugh.

“Do you hate me too much to dance with me?” He inquired, his gaze soft as he looked down at me. The song had just switched to something slow and without even really thinking about it, my hand accepted Paul’s extended one letting him lead me out to the dance floor.

Swaying softly, his hands fell to my waist and mine drifted to link behind his neck.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He questioned softly. Nodding in response, I bit back a yawn. “Good I’m glad.” He added. “Thank you for tonight. I know this isn’t really your scene but it means the world to me that you agreed to come.” We danced until the song came to a close and after talking with a few more people Paul asked if I was ready to head out.

Back at the hotel, Paul helped me with the zipper on my dress before disappearing into the bathroom to change from his suit. After changing, we readied for bed in a comfortable silence and then slid into bed together, Paul’s arms wrapping back around me, his hands stroking over my belly until my eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. Even more so than before, I felt safe, warm, and cared about while cuddled against his 6’2” frame. It was a feeling that was welcome but terrifying all at the same time.

Chapter 8 Social Media:

#paul bissonnette #paul bissonnette imagine #arizona coyotes imagine #arizona coyotes #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #former player #former player imagine #014.1 #gif courtesy of dougiesflow

44 notes · View notes

scarlettlillies · 6 years ago

Text

Hetalia- Early Bird (SuFin)

Drabble 3 of 3! Another one from the game put on by @hetaliawritersdiscord! Prompts were Morning, Birdsong, Luck, and Chance. I was cutting it very close with the timing so this cuts off rather abruptly. I’m sorry. ;;

Between the two of them, Sweden was always the early bird.

It was a blessing everyday to see Finland next to him whenever he arose from his slumber. It was like old times although the circumstances were different. His kings were rulers over Finland's home and they lived together because they had to. But his feelings towards Finland were just as real as they were now and he did his best to keep him happy, even at the risk of disobeying his bosses.

At the time, Finland did not feel the same way. And that was okay too. He was just grateful to call Finland a friend.

But the mid-20th century brought a change to their relationship. The day Finland told him he loved him will forever be burned in his mind for as long as lived. He will never forget the kiss Finland gave him while they were getting ready to part ways after a long meeting. Finland had later told him he had done it on the fly. He had a strong suspicion that Sweden's feelings hadn't changed since they were young and ultimately took a chance. Sweden was glad that he did.

Sweden got up to open the windows. A cool breeze rolled in and the birds greeted him to their usual morning song. It was going to be a lovely day, and Sweden could feel that strongly in his bones.

He made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen and got the coffee started, just as he had always done. As he went through the cabinet, he noticed all that was left was instant coffee. Not exactly what he had in mind but it would do the trick for the time being. They had plans on doing a grocery run later today anyhow.

Finland was still asleep when Sweden returned with the two cups of coffee. He left both mugs on his end of the bed while he slipped back into the sheets. He watched over Finland while the man quietly snored the morning away. Even in his sleep, he was just as beautiful. He truly was the luckiest man alive.

#APH Sweden #APH Finland #sufin #hetalia #Lilly's Writings

36 notes · View notes

thewnchstrs · 6 years ago

Text

The Vessel

Pairing: none

Disclaimers: none

Word count: 9.3K

A/N: Okay so this isn’t actually the first episode with Casifer but it was the first one that Sam and Dean found out Cas was possessed so there was a little bit more to work with. If you had a different episode for this fic in mind let me know and I’ll write it for you!!

Masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N and Sam sat in the same spot they were in the night before: hunched over books and piles of papers in the kitchen, their eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

Dean entered the kitchen, just past 8AM, rolling the sleeves of his shirt, eyeing the two at the table as he reached for the coffee pot.

“We’re all out,” Sam said, not even looking at his brother. Even with this, Dean held the pot over his empty cup before clambering it back into its dock on the counter.

“There was a half a bag yesterday.”

“We killed it,” Y/N said, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands before handing Dean her empty cup who took it exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, did you know the Nazis had a special branch devoted to archaeology?” Sam asked, looking up from his book for the first time.

“A little early for Nazi trivia,” Dean said, rummaging through the fridge, “Especially without caffeine.”

“It was called the ‘Ahnenerbe.’” Sam said, reading from the book, expertly reading the German, “There were sites all over Germany, and then as the Nazis increased their territory, they started popping up in- in Poland, Finland, North Africa-”

“Yeah, how is this more important than our coffee situation?” Dean asked, throwing the milk he’d just sniffed back into the fridge, shutting it angrily as he ran a hand down his face.

“Drama queen,” I muttered under my breath.

“’Cause Y/N and I found something. I mean, we need something- magic, a weapon strong enough to give us a shot against Amara.”

Sam was right. Our chances of bringing Amara down empty handed were just as slim as Dean actually giving a rat’s ass this early in the morning. I watched as he picked the coffee pot up once again, this time opening it as he peered inside, as if making sure we truly were out of coffee.

“So I’ve been looking outside the lore in history,” Sam went on, flipping the pages of the book in front of him. “And I found this, uh, ‘The Vichy Memorandums’.”

“The Nazi communications?” I asked, the information perking my interest.

“Yeah,” Sam’s eyebrows cinched together in confusion and shock, “You heard of ‘em?”

“They came up in my research too. Go on.”

“Well, they puzzle historians to this day, and they speak of a super weapon obtained by the Ahnenerbe, said to be strong enough to win the war.”

I raised my eyebrows at this, shooting a glance to Dean who was rubbing his eyes, “Yeah? What was it?”

“Well, uh, these memos refer to it as ‘The Hand Of God.’ I mean, that was sort of a catchall term for several objects he touched on Earth in biblical times and, get this,” Sam said, eyes wide, “they’re believed to contain traces of his power.”

Dean seemed more than unimpressed as he pushed off from the counter he’d been leaning against, “Yeah, well, the Nazis believed a lot of things.”

“Dean, Lucifer’s caged,” I began, not sure how he didn’t see this as an opportunity for us to finally have something that could potentially defeat Amara. “God’s M.I.A. the only beings strong enough to battle Amara are gone. I’m sorry, Dean but I’m with Sam on this one. If we’re gonna fight her, what better way to arm up than with an actual dose of his power?”

Dean sighed, thinking about it, letting a beat pass before he approached the table, plopping down on the bench seat next to me, “Okay, so you said the Nazis got their hands on one of these, uh...’hands’.”

“Right.”

“Well, if it was so powerful it could win them the war, why didn’t it?” He reached across the table, snatched Sam’s cup from where it sat. He threw his head back, desperate for just a drop of caffeine, bringing it away disappointed.

“Because they lost it,” I said, now reading from the book in front of me. “En route to Berlin, it was stolen. The Nazis searched high and low for the thief, but they never found their prime suspect: Delphine Seydoux.” I pushed the book into the middle of the table, the picture of Delphine staring back up at us. “She was a french mistress to a high-ranking Nazi, thought to be a french traitor ‘til she killed her German lover and made off with the weapon.”

“The Hand of God?”

“The Hand of God,” I confirmed, nodding.

“Allied spy? French resistance?” Dean asked.

“That’s what the Nazis thought, but their investigation led them to a different conclusion- that she was ‘un femme de lettres.’“ I watched them expectantly, waiting for them to catch on, Dean raised his eyebrows, waiting for the translation. I sighed, “A woman of letters.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Castiel held the green tablet in one hand, using his others to fight off the aliens on the screen, poking and prodding each one until they exploded into a thin sheen of dust. The music from the game like an old arcade played loudly in the all concrete room.

Numerous demons stood before him, their hands crossed waiting for orders, but Castiel continued to sit, one leg thrown over the other on his throne. They’d have to wait until he was ready to talk.

The demons stood, looking at each other in silent conversation as to not disturb Castiel, or, Lucifer, he now was. The group elected one of the demons, a young, scrawny one that was newest to the job. They’d convinced him it would get him a promotion when in reality, everybody knew how this would end.

The demon slowly made his way to the front of the group, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke, “Uh, sir? Would you like to hear the latest soul numbers?”

“No, because I don’t care.” Lucifer said simply, not bothering to look up from his screen.

The demon looked back to his coworkers who egged him on, nodding their heads in the direction of their new King. The demon cleared his throat, “How about an update on Amara?” Instantly, the noises from the game quieted as Lucifer looked up at the group. The demon shifted on his feet nervously as he continued, “Well, the update is, well that there is no update. We still haven’t found her.”

“Sir, if I may,” another demon began, she walked forward in front of the group, hoping to save the situation. “Since you’ve claimed the throne, we could use some direction. Any direction. We could deploy a force. Real boots on the ground, shake the trees to find her-”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, obviously uninterested at her attempts to make him communicate with them on something he really could care less about. He clicked the tablet back to life, the noise of the game filling the room once again.

“...W-with you leading the charge, of course.” She continued, “We have had a coward and a fool at the helm for too long-” From the other side of the room could be heard muffled groans from their previous King who found himself to be in a pretty...tight situation. “Perhaps it’s time to-”

Lucifer held a finger up to the demon, looking in the direction of where Crowley was caged. “Doggie wants to speak.”

A gate was rolled open, the platform Crowley was secured to, pushed out into the open, his hands a feet bound to chains.

“How dare you.” Crowley snarled to the demons, “The impudence. The lack of humility. That’s no way to talk to your master...Lucifer.”

Lucifer smiled, “That’s a good doggie.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Who knew the Men of Letters had European chapters?” Dean said, pulling a large book from one of the numerous shelves in the library.

“Maybe it wasn’t an entire chapter,” Sam suggested from the other side of the room, balancing a number of books in his arms that Y/N continued to pull from the shelves. Everything they could possible need to know about the Hand of God had to be somewhere in one of these books. “Just some assets, you know?”

“Yeah, and letting women join way back in the ‘40s?” Dean asked to which Y/N shot him a look over her shoulder, warning him to watch what he was about to say. “I just never got the impression that they were so big on gender equality, that’s all. You know, it’s right there in the name: The Men of Letters.”

“Well, it was World War 2,” Y/N said. “Kind of an all-hands-on-deck situation, you know?”

“Yeah, Rosie the Riveter,” Dean said, smiling to himself. “Cool.”

“Here you go.” Sam said, reading from one of the books, “This report was written by Clifford Henshaw, a bunker-based Man of Letters back in 1943. It’s the right era.” Sam carried the book to one of the tables in the middle of the room, setting it down with a large thud. “But it’s in French.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N scanned the pages of the book, a blue light emitting from the long device. The door behind her opening and then closing, Dean’s voice echoing through the room, “Well?”

“So it’s definitely about Delphine,” I said, reading the words that were coming up on the computer screen, the French quickly being translated into English. Sam stood over my shoulder, taking notes. “Her name’s at the top of every page. And check this out.”

Dean sat beside me, sliding the papers in front of him, “What are these?”

“Transcriptions,” Sam said, his eyes bouncing between the computer screen and the notebook in his hands. “From transatlantic cables between Clifford and Delphine.”

“What do they say?”

“Give me a second,” Sam clicked through the translations, “web translation’s kind of buggy.”

Dean nodded, taking a drink from the beer resting between his fingers, “Seriously Dean?” Y/N said, eyeing the bottle. “It’s like, noon.”

“Yeah, well you and Sasquatch drank all the coffee, so what am I supposed to drink? Water?”

“Look at this,” Sam slid the laptop in between Dean and I, pointing at the screen full of translated words. “They were making arrangements to get the artifact out of Europe to keep it safe. Uh, Henshaw pulled some strings with a Man of Letters in the O.S.S. to requisition an active U.S. submarine to transport Delphine and the weapon back to the states...back to here.”

“Wait, the bunker?”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s been here the whole time?” Y/N questioned. “Don’t tell me all of this was for nothing-”

Sam quickly typed something neither Dean nor Y/N could explain before pressing enter, an article about the USS Bluefin popping up with a picture of a large ship.

“No.” Sam said, shaking his head as he read the article, “Never arrived. Uh, the U.S.S. Bluefin came under German attack midway through its trip across the Atlantic. The sub was sunk.” Sam quickly tapped for the next page, this time, a black and white picture of a man in a US uniform popped up. “The ship and its contents haven’t been recovered to this day.”

Sam ran a hand down his tired face, closing the laptop in frustration.

“Great.” Y/N nodded, feeling more defeated than ever. “It’s lost.”

“Or is it?” Dean asked, eyeing the two of them.

“Well, yeah, I’d say so.” Sam said, gesturing to the closed laptop.

“It couldn’t have made it out of there,” Y/N shook her head, recalling what the article had said, “I mean, tides took the wreckage. Submersibles have been trying to locate it for years. I mean, if James Cameron and his “Avatar” billions can’t find it-”

“Yeah, but...we have something that James Cameron doesn’t have.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The weaponry Lucifer had requested was rolled into the room on a large cart, the spears and swords dangerously sticking out in mid air. Lucifer stood from his throne, careful not to step on Crowley who was seated at the foot of his chair, his hands and feet still bound.

Lucifer reached for one of the spears, sighing deeply. “That’s all of it?”

“Yes, sir. The requested weaponry from your crypts.” The demon said, eyeing Lucifer as he examined the spear in his hand. “Does it...please you?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes before turning on his heels, “Spare me.”

Lucifer gestured for the demons to leave the room, leaving only him and Crowley who couldn’t even look into Lucifer’s eyes without shaking profusely.

“How are your wounds, doggie?” Lucifer mocked after the door behind the last demon had closed. He turning the spear in his hands.

“They are...no less than I deserve.” Crowley muttered, choosing his words carefully as Lucifer scratched the top of his head, making him wince in pain.

“Aww,” Lucifer chuckled, obviously enjoying every minute of this, “You’re scared of your master. That’s a good doggie.” Lucifer continued to rub Crowley’s head before yanking him back by his ear. “But it’s an act. I broke you, but, um...yep! I can still smell it, you’ve got that delectable little whiff of defiance. You’re just playing, huh?”

Lucifer tugged harder at Crowley’s ear. “You’re just waiting for your moment to retake the throne. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucifer let off of Crowley’s ear, “Well, then...tell me, uh, once and future, King of Hell,” he laughed as he mocked him, “you’ve been watching my rule. What treasonous thoughts do you have brewing in that little head of yours, huh?” He waited a beat and when Crowley didn’t speak he lightly toed him in the side, “What are you really thinking hmm?”

Crowley sighed, knowing that if he wanted to get this over with that he’d have to play at his games. “The truth, sir?”

“Yeah.”

Crowley turned slightly to look up at who he once knew as Castiel- the Winchester’s best friend, who was now the person he feared most. “You’re not strong enough.” Lucifer listened in interest, watching his every move, “You’ve had your weapons delivered. You realize they won’t be enough. If you thought you could be Amara, you’d be taking the fight to her...right now.”

A beat passed before Lucifer reached out a hand, making Crowley flinch away only to have Lucifer pat his shoulder, “You’re a clever little doggie. You’re right. At the moment, I-I may be a bit underequipped. Maybe defeating Amara was a bit more of a team effort than I led certain people to believe. You know, all that said...” Lucifer lifted Crowley’s face using the spear so his eyes would meet his, “I’m still your master. Did I let you out of that kennel too soon?”

Crowley held back his fear as he whispered his answer, praying to God he wouldn’t be subject to the small cage again, “No.”

A ringing came from inside the pocket of Lucifer’s trench coat. Keeping the spear tucked under Crowley’s chin, he picked up the phone, examining the contact that flashed on the screen. “No barking. It’s showtime.”

Lucifer released the pressure of the spear off of Crowley’s neck as he returned to his seat on the throne, accepting the call as he held it up to his ear, managing his best Cas voice, “Hello, Dean.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“There were several God-touched objects, but it never occurred to me that any had survived the flood, let alone the 20th century.” Lucifer said, looking at the pictures that Sam, Dean and Y/N had taped to the walls. Lucifer kept his voice low to fool them into thinking Cas was still, indeed, Cas.

“Do you think we can use it against Amara?” Sam asked.

“It’s perfect,” Lucifer said, mainly to himself. Sam, Y/N and Dean glanced at each other, waiting for him to go on. “I can get you back there.”

“Without wings?” Y/N questioned, her eyebrows cinched together. “Cas, you can’t even teleport.”

Y/N was right. The fall of the angels had done a number on Cas.

Lucifer thought quickly for an excuse before turning on his heels, “Time travel is a whole different system.”

Dean snapped his fingers, “Told ya.”

Lucifer began flipping through a packet that had been stapled to the drawing board. “So, uh, these the last coordinates?”

“That’s the Bluefin’s last transmission to shore, yeah.”

“Alright-”

“Wait a second,” Sam began, still not too thrilled on the idea of time travel. “Cas, aren’t there still risks with time travel? I mean, aren’t there consequences that could create, I don’t know, a ripple effect?”

“Sam’s right,” Y/N nodded, “So many things can go wrong-”

Dean brought his hand down onto the tabletop, turning to Sam and Y/N. “Hey. This is the ideal scenario.”

“What?”

“That sub’s a tin can floating in the middle of the ocean, doomed to go down. You can’t really mess with history at 20,000 leagues.” Y/N listened though she didn’t agree. Her eyes traveled up to Lucifer who watched the exchange intently, something putting her off about the way he smirked at the argument unfolding. “So we get in, get the weapon, get out. It’s a milk run.”

“Well, that’s not a very good plan,” Sam argued.

“Well, if things get out of hand, then Cas’ll just zap me right back.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say that would make Dean realize how bad of an idea this was turning out to be. Y/N thought about what Dean had just said, throwing it around in her brain. “You?”

Dean paused, realizing he’d just revealed the big kicker to the plan. “You two ain’t going.”

“I beg your pardon-” Sam started, leaning in close to his brother before Dean cut him off.

“You need to stay here.”

“Stay here?!”

“Just in case things go sideways, at least two of us need to be left standing to take care of the darkness.” Dean shook his head, already dead set on the idea. “We can’t risk the three of us, and at the moment, I’m the least valuable player. You both know that I can’t kill Amara, so the least I could do is get the thing that we need so that you can!”

“So you expect us to sit here and ride the pine while you and Cas go play Jules Verne?”

“Yes!...No. Uh, who?” Dean said, confused.

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” Lucifer said, instantly putting Y/N on edge. There was something very wrong going on here.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. Y/N could practically feel how torn he was, “You’ll stay by his side the entire time?-”

“Now wait,” Y/N said, holding a hand out to Sam, not believing his was allowing this. “You can’t be serious. Dean can’t go- I’ll do it.”

“Y/N, stop-” Dean tried, rubbing his eyes.

“No, Dean! I-” I sighed, not sure how to put this lightly, “You can’t die out there. Okay? You can’t. This world...it needs you, Dean. It needs you to kill Amara. This world will go on without me if this plan goes haywire-”

“I said, stop, Y/N!” Dean nearly shouted, his face becoming red. “I will not let you sacrifice yourself for a mess I have to clean up. I won’t let you think this world doesn’t need you as much it needs Sam and I, alright? We’ve lost too many people and I’ll be damned if we lose you too.”

I sat back in my chair, silence settling over us like a blanket.

“Let me do this,” Dean said, leaning over the table. “I need to do this.”

“Be safe.”

“When am I not?” Dean questioned, eliciting scoffs from Sam and I. “Let’s do this, Cas.” Dean stood from the table, Lucifer coming to stand next to him. “Bon Voyage.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One second, Dean was standing in front of Sam and Y/N in the bunker, the next, he found himself in small confines, the only light coming from a single hanging light bulb.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, a snore coming from one of the bunks next to him, startling him into a corner. “Cas?”

The boat swayed from side to side, making Dean uneasy on his feet. He searched the room for Cas, hoping he’d made it on board.

Heavy footfalls began coming toward the closed door ahead of Dean, making him drop to the floor and roll under the set of bunks to his right, holding his breath as they entered the room.

“See, I enlisted to sink German ships.” A man said, pushing the heavy door open, a white towel resting over his shoulders. “You’re up.” Using the towel, he smacked the sleeping shipmate. Another man in uniform followed the first one.

“Let’s go. Vacation’s over.” The man with the towel said. Dean watched from between the bed posts. “Now we got zip running patrols in the bay. Now Captain’s got us going the wrong direction? To run some mystery mission for some broad? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Get some rest.”

“You know I can’t rest.”

Dean watched from under the bunks the feet of the soldiers on board as they climbed into their sleeping quarters. He scanned the room, wondering just how long he’d have to be in here when he spotted a red marking on the wall ahead of him. He cinched his eyebrows, focusing on the symbol in hopes it would help him find the Hand of God.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam held the open book in his hands, staring at the picture of a drawing of the Bluefin, trying to imagine his brother on board.

Y/N kept her worries at bay by scrolling through her phone, trying to keep every bad thought about how horrible of an idea this time travel mission was. However, there was still something in the back of Y/N’s mind that had been bugging her. “Sam?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, not looking up from the book.

“Have you noticed anything strange...about Cas?”

Sam looked up to Y/N now, thinking hard about the last few hours. “I mean, no, not really-”

As if on cue, the entrance to the bunker door was pulled open, a loud squeak of rusty hinges catching the attention of Y/N and Sam, looking up from their distractions.

Water sloshed over the metal stairs, squeaking in Lucifer’s shoes as he slowly descended down the stairs, every inch of him soaking wet.

“Cas?” Sam asked, “Why are you all wet?”

“Where’s Dean?” Y/N asked immediately, standing from her chair.

“We made the leap.” Lucifer said simply, his hair sticking to his forehead. He tried his best to sound somber even though he couldn’t have been more pleased with how his plan was unfolding. “He got on. I didn’t.”

“What?” Sam asked quietly.

Lucifer nodded, not meeting Sam’s eyes, trying to make it as believable as he could, “I couldn’t make it past the hull.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A quarter rolled out into the middle of the room, spinning until falling on its side. The soldier who’d been wearing his uniform raised his eyebrows, coming off of his bunk to pick the quarter up. He held it close to his face as he read the year. He shook his head, “1996?”

Instantly, Dean came up from under the bunk, putting the soldier in a headlock. The soldier gasped, gripping Dean’s arm in shock. “Where’s Delphine? Where’s the broad?”

“I-I-I don’t know what your talking about.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Someone must have warded the ship.” Lucifer said as he entered the library, Sam and Y/N on his heels. He threw the trench coat onto a chair, using a towel to dry his face.

“Delphine.” Sam said, “It has to be. I mean, she’s protecting the weapon, right?” Lucifer ignored him, drying his pants with the towel now. Y/N watched him in confusion at his lack of concern for Dean. “Cas. Just go back to their last port before she boarded, leave a message so Dean knows.”

Lucifer shook his head, trying to remain calm. It’s what Cas would have done. “Where? Where would Dean see it that the crew wouldn’t? He’s as likely to find the warding as he is any message I’d leave.”

“Then send me.” Sam said. Y/N’s eyes widened at this, grabbing his forearm.

“Sam, no!”

“Dean got past the hull. I have to go help him-”

“Right,” Lucifer said sarcastically, “We’ll double down on what screwed us the first time. You’re really bringing your ‘A’ ideas today.” He whipped the towel that had been around his neck as he sat at the table in the library. “I can’t believe I lost it...Him, I mean. Dean. Can’t believe I lost Dean.”

Sam glanced at Y/N, both of their eyebrows raised.

“Well, it’s up to him now to find and clear the warding,” Lucifer said, folding his hands in front of him.

“No.” Y/N shook her head, “We can help. There’s got to be something in magic or angel lore!” Sam watched Cas closer this time as he rolled his eyes, resting his head in his hands at Y/N’s words. “You know, some way to clear the sigils from the outside.”

“Cas,” Sam said as he watched Cas, mistaking his annoyance for fear. “We’ll bring him back. Don’t worry.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dean tucked his shirt into his pants as he came from the sleeping quarters and out to where the rest of the soldiers were, either sitting at round tables or working at computers. Dean made sure to keep his head low, not to make eye contact.

“Look out. Coming through,” A man called from behind Dean, coming through the small walkway with a bag of laundry. Dean pressed himself against the bunk next to him, keeping his head even lower.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“When can I smoke?” Delphine asked, coming out of the bathroom.

“When it’s your turn, I’ll let you know.” One of the soldiers said.

“Surely some of you boys take breaks in the engine room?” Delphine made her way past him and into the kitchen, one of the only few rooms she was allowed to be in.

“Captain wants you stayed put,” he said, setting a tray of food down in front of her.

“Let me guess,” Delphine smiled. “He fears I would distract his men? Does not want a skirt roaming the decks? Give me the light.” She rested the cigarette between her parted lips.

“But, ma’am, uh...You’re wearing pants.” He laughed before plucking the cigarette from her lips.

The soldier made his way back into the kitchen, nearly running into Dean. He patted him on the shoulder. “Rich, ain’t it? Frog’s sittin’ pretty like Queen of Sheba, getting room service in the wardroom. And I can’t even gripe ‘cause...well, have you seen that dame? The gams on her?”

Dean stayed pressed up against the counter, not facing the soldier. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s a hottie.” Dean chuckled, glad for some conversation he could actually follow. The soldier looked at Dean confused, but Dean counteracted what he’d just said quickly, “Yeah, those gams, huh?”

Dean continued on his way, going through to the wardroom where Delphine had pulled out another cigarette. At the sight of him, she sat forward, confused, “Who are you?”

“Delphine...You might find this hard to believe, but-”

In an instant, Delphine had sent her foot soaring through the air, straight between Dean’s legs, bringing his head slamming down onto the table before holding him at the throat against the wall. Dean groaned in pain, trying to breathe around the death grip on his jugular.

“Not a soul on this ship knows my name, so I repeat, who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Clifford Henshaw,” Dean said calmly, hoping to get her to understand. “I’m a Man of Letters.”

Delphine squinted her eyes at him as two soldiers barged into the room, the first one the one that Dean had just finished talking to, and the second was the one that Dean had put in a choke hold. “That’s him! That’s the guy, Captain.”

The first soldier pulled Delphine away, throwing her back into her seat at the table as the Captain entered the room.

Dean was forced onto the table, his hands held tightly behind his back. “He took my clothes and he hog tied me in the head, this guy.”

“What should we do with him, Captain?”

“Search him.” The Captain said, watching the scene unfold.

The soldiers began patting Dean down, feeling the sides of his uniform when he reached into Dean’s pocket, pulling out his cell phone.

“Petey, this yours?” the soldier asked, handing it off to him.

Petey examined the phone before holding it up, “What the hell is this?”

Dean sighed, knowing would take a lot of convincing. “It’s a phone.”

“Right. A phone in your pocket.” They scoffed.

“Next thing he’s going to tell us is he’s from space.” Petey laughed.

“Yeah, or the future.”

Dean glanced at the two before back down to Delphine, begging for her to understand. “I...I am.” Delphine watched him with suspicious eyes before he turned to the Captain, “Captain James Dearborn? My name is Dean Winchester, and I am on a mission from the future, the details of which I am not at liberty to discuss. But know this- within the hour, a German destroyer will find and attack this submarine, and you will go down.”

“Okay, you’ve said your piece,” The Captain said, not believing a word of Dean’s story, “now let me tell you what I think.”

Delphine whipped around to him, “Captain-”

“I think you’re a soldier that’s gone A.W.O.L. You’ve hopped a ride home, and this cockeyed story is some loony attempt to keep your cover as a civvie. That, or you’re a spy. Deciding which? I’ll leave that to the court martial.”

“I need to speak with this man alone.” Delphine tried again.

“Not a chance.” The Captain pulled a gun from his waistband, handing it over to Petey.

“Captain, there are things, things about this mission that you don’t know-”

“Flash Gordon here will remain under guard until we reach the shore.”

“Gladly.”

Delphine scoffed, frustrated that they weren’t even considering the possibility that Dean was telling the truth, “What if we don’t reach shore? What if he’s right?”

“The odds of a German attack from a surface ship, this far west, hunting down a lone submarine?-”

“Captain?” A soldier interrupted, coming from the front of the boat. He gestured his head toward a secure area to talk, the four people in the wardroom watching them.

“Sonar’s picked up a surface ship on steady bearing, closing.” He said to the Captain.

The Captain was taken aback but tried his best to hide the shock, “Understood.”

“Harris, back to your station.” The Captain said to the first soldier. “Giraldi, watch our guest.” He said to Petey, who simply nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“The Germans, they’ve come for it.” Delphine said.

Dean slid into the booth opposite of her, “Delphine, the warding on the hull? The sigil? That’s not like any I’ve seen.”

“My mentor in the Men of Letters, he taught me the symbol before he died.”

“World Series, 1944.” Petey began, talking to Dean. “Go.” Dean watched him, confused as he wanted from him. “You’re from the future. Tell me, who won?”

Dean rolled his eyes, this not being at the top of his priority list, “Um, the, uh, The Rangers.”

“The Rangers?” Petey said in confusion.

“He believed it would keep me and the artifact safe on our journey-” Delphine went on.

“Who are The Rangers?”

“-from supernatural interference.”

“And angelic interference.” Dean said, understanding why Cas hadn’t made it on board.

“Angels?” Delphine said, “They’re not real-”

“Who are The Rangers?”

“Look, kid, I don’t follow baseball, okay?” Dean said. “And, yeah, angels are real. In fact, one of them is my ride off this ship. Now look, the warding that you put up to block the magic, it must’ve blocked him, too. I cleared the one. If there’s any more, we gotta clear those, too otherwise I’m stuck here.”

“Okay, then. The next president.” Petey went on.

“Delphine, you wanted the weapon to be at a Men of Letters safe house, right? I’m from the bunker. That’s how I knew how to find you, from your communication with Henshaw. Now if you clear the way, I can get it there for you.”

“And that’s why you came,” Delphine questioned, wishing she could say she trusted him like she so desperately wanted to. “to protect the object, the weapon?”

“You gonna answer my question?” Petey asked, leaning against the wall.

Dean was beginning to become fed up, laying his hands on the table as if to ask what more he wanted of him, “Eisenhower, okay? No. uh...Truman. Now would you please shut up?” He turned back to Delphine, “No. This sub is going down. But the allies do win...But from Man of Letters to Man of Letters? I’m fighting a war in the future. It’s not like your war. It’s big. Biblical, end-is-nigh big...And I need your weapon to win. That is why I came.”

“But we all die?” Petey asked softly. Yet another question of his Dean didn’t want to answer. “Me, the girl, the rest of the crew? I’m just trying to get your story clear.”

Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw, knowing it would come down to the truth sooner or later. “Yes...Look. I know it’s a lot to ask, especially from a complete stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Delphine shook her head. “’Man of Letters to Man of Letters’. I trust you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Wait a second. I think I have something.” Sam said, reading from a book he’d been looking through for the past half an hour. “‘The spell of gathering’. It’s an incantation used to...’focus the power of celestial beings’- angels- ‘against all drawn forms of evasion’.” He brought the book over to the table next to Lucifer where he was sitting across from Y/N who hadn’t taken her eyes off him for the past twenty minutes. “The spell was designed to clear all mystical or occult blockages.”

“That’s some pretty highly theoretical magic,” Y/N said.

Sam nodded, a smile playing at his lips as the thought of getting Dean back loomed closer and closer. “Exactly. And, it’s never been used before, but it sounds like it could work.”

“Do we have the ingredients?” Y/N asked as she pushed the chair back, jogging toward the cabinets where they held most of their supplies for incantations.

Sam read off the list as Y/N quickly gathered them, but the last one threw her for a loop. She checked and double checked twice with nothing to show for it. “All but one.”

Sam sighed, “That’s why its never been used before. It requires the power of an archangel.”

He closed the book, running a hand down his face. Y/N slowly shutting the cabinets, her hands coming to rest on her hips. There had to be another way.

“Well, Sam, we may as well try.” Lucifer said, looking over to him.

“We don’t have time for long shots, Cas. Even at full power you’re not strong enough.”

As Sam stood from the chair, Lucifer balanced his options in his head before grabbing the book and opening it to the incantation to save Dean, and, most importantly to Lucifer, the Hand of God.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“That’s the Hand of God?” Dean questioned, staring at the lump of what looked like a piece of polished wood inside the wooden box Delphine had placed in front of him. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. It must have been more impressive in its complete form. The Ark of the Covenant.”

Dean’s eyes slightly widened at this before a grin broke out on his face, “Oh, so full-on ‘Raiders’. That’s...okay.”

As Dean reached for it, Delphine quickly stopped him, “Don’t touch it bare handed. Its power is potent and unstable. No mortal can survive long with direct contact.” She covered it back up with the cloth it had been wrapped in before closing the latch of the box, pushing it toward Dean. “I’ll remove the warding.”

As Delphine left the room, Dean stood to leave, the box in hand as Petey pointed the gun at him, ushering Dean to sit back down, “Whoa whoa whoa! You’re not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” Dean said, choosing to pick his battles as he sat back down, hands tapping atop the box.

A beat of silence passed before Petey spoke again, “When?”

“When what?”

“When do we win? Months, years, decades? Got a lot of friends and family on other ships, in other branches. I want to know what their chances are.”

“Years,” Dean nodded, looking up at the young soldier. “1945...You believe me?”

Petey thought momentarily as if he himself still hadn’t made up his mind. “I read a lot of Flash Gordon.”

In an instant the room was swamped in a red light, the PA system crackling over the boat. “General quarters, man your battle stations. All hands, man your battle stations.”

“Okay, lets go boys, lets go!” A voice called from outside of the wardroom, Dean’s heart racing as he watching numerous soldiers run quickly toward the front of the ship.

A few beats of silence passed, the only sound coming from the commotion of the soldiers loading the weapons, muffled voices in panic before it went quiet, boat shifting downward making Dean nearly slide out of his seat.

It was so quiet Dean could hear the pipes in the ship rattling, “What’s happening-”

“Shh!” Petey shushed him, pointing upwards, signaling to Dean that the ending was coming. The German attacker was right above them. Dean could only pray Delphine had finished clearing the sigils.

As if on cue, Delphine came quietly into the room, Dean standing from his seat, ready to get out of the boat before all Hell broke loose. Instead, Delphine began unbuttoning her top, pulling it away to reveal the last sigil, engraved on her chest. She pulled a knife from behind her, handing it to Dean. “Kill me.”

“Wait,” Petey said, his eyes wide. “You can’t do that.”

Delphine glared at Petey, making him back off as she passed the knife to Dean who gently took it from her hands.

“Kill me.”

“I don’t have to kill you, okay?” Dean said, “I Can just cut it. It’ll work.”

“Not with this,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s spell bound- to my blood, my heart. Its power lives and dies with me. Do it.”

Dean held onto Delphine’s shoulder, bringing the blade to her chest, just piercing the skin as the ship was suddenly rocketed to the side followed by several more explosions, chaos erupting from the deck once again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Cas, what is that?” Sam asked, watching Lucifer as he crushed something, throwing it into a metal bowl.

“It’s your spell of gathering,” he said, adding a feather.

Y/N and Sam stared wide eyed at each other as they watched him, “Are you nuts? You’re not strong enough, Cas, you could get hurt!”

“You find a better option?” Lucifer continued cutting up ingredients, everything from a piece of brain to the spine of a rat.

“Well, no,” Sam said, “but without a serious boost of your angel power, that spell won’t even work.”

“My strength may surprise you.”

Y/N continued watching Cas, her stomach knotting as he handled the large butcher knife. “Mind explaining what you mean by that?” Lucifer stopped mid chop, glancing at Y/N. “I mean, you obviously don’t have much grace left. We know that, so, so what do you mean-”

“Wait a second,” Sam interrupted, making Y/N roll her eyes. It seemed like she couldn’t get out an entire sentence these days without somebody interjecting. “I remember Bobby told me, when you needed strength to retrieve us from the past, you used him to power up. You- you touched his soul, right?”

“That’s right. I did that. But that- that, uh, procedure...it can be fatal.”

“Use my soul.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me-”

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I have to save him, no matter what it takes.” Sam said before turning back to Lucifer. “That way, maybe you’ll have enough power to wield the spell.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“It’s worth the risk.”

“Um, no, really it’s not.” Y/N tried.

“Cas, Dean needs our help. I trust you.”

Y/N watched with wild eyes at the thought of both of them thinking this was a good idea. Her and Sam watched Lucifer, waiting for him to say something, anything, at this point.

Lucifer paused, holding a jar of green liquid before he sputtered out a laugh, nearly throwing his head back.

“I think he’s lost it,” Y/N whispered to Sam. She took a step toward Lucifer, “Is this situation funny to you?”

“Oh, it’s ju- I don’t- I don’t need you two anymore. I mean, Dean’s the one with the link to Amara, why have I been trying to spare you?” Sam and Y/N watched in confusion, both of their hearts sinking at the sight of whoever this was. Y/N knew she should’ve said something, Sam knew he should’ve listened better. “I mean maybe it’s because together, you two are like the girl who kept turning me down at the prom.”

Before they could even react, they were both thrown to separate concrete pillars, their body bound to the hard walls, grunting in pain.

Lucifer tapped his chin, sauntering between the two of them. “I will touch your souls, just because you asked so nicely. And I’ll use your spell to blast through the warding and retrieve Dean and the, uh...Hand of God.” He gestured to the table where the incantation was almost complete. “And then when Dean comes back and he finds this place decorated with your guts, I will tell him the truth! I’ll just say, ‘Dean’-” he paused, holding up a finger before making his voice much lower, Cas’ voice seeping through, “’Dean...they knew the risks. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.’”

Sam’s voice shook as he realized who it was for the first time, hoping desperately for his sake, and for Y/N’s that he was wrong. “Lucifer.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as she stared at Cas, finally understanding.

Lucifer smiled, “In the flesh...Now, who wants to go first?” He stood between Y/N and Sam, his head bouncing between the two of them before rolling up his sleeves, “Well then, how about two for the price of one, huh?”

Lucifer rested the tips of his fingers against each of their chests before pushing deep through their skin, into their flesh, past their bone. The two of them screamed, the pain like a million hot pokers digging their way through their sternums, the concrete walls of the bunker echoing their blood curdling screams.

The pain was so intense it created white spots in both of their vision but Lucifer only pushed harder, his fingertips reaching out until he felt the heat of the human soul. Quickly, he retreated his hands, Sam and Y/N quickly falling to the floor unconscious.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Petey escorted them onto the main deck, Dean making sure to hold the box containing the Hand of God close to his chest. He looked around the room, the metal door shutting behind them.

“Go ahead,” The Captain said to a man wearing headphones, switching numerous tabs until a voice came over the P.A. system.

“Hello, mein liebchen.” the voice said in a heavy German accent.

“It is not possible,” Delphine whispered to herself, “I killed you.”

“A little advice, Delphine.” The voice continued. “If you want a friend of the thule to stay dead, burn the body.” Dean listened with wide eyes, this had to be the German Nazi lover Delphine had supposedly killed. “A word for the captain. You may have noticed you are up against a warship and a crew possessing, let us say, extraordinary abilities. And you have taken damage that you cannot recover from. So I offer you a choice- surface now, relinquish the girl and her cargo, and I can assure you and your men the highest of P.O.W treatment.” Dean closed his eyes momentarily, knowing that if it were between life and death, surely, they would give up one life to save the rest.

“Or,” he went on, “you can protect her, and we will depth charge you and your boat right into the seabed and recover the cargo ourselves. You have three minutes to surrender.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Delphine said to the group, “but this cargo, the Germans can’t have it. You need to believe me.”

“Our orders were to protect you and your cargo,” the Captain said. “we wouldn’t even consider a surrender.”

“You had better reconsider.” Delphine said, turning to Dean who watched her in confusion. “Killing me is your only way off this ship.”

Dean looked down at the wooden box in his hands when an idea, so absurd and crazy he wasn’t even sure how he’d thought of it, “Maybe not. Teach me how to use it. It’s the power of God. Maybe I can use it to save you, save the sub.”

“And your war?” Delphine questioned.

“I want to help you now.”

“Two minutes, Captain.”

“You save the ship, get us to the surface, and then what? The power of God will consume you, and you’ll have merely brought the weapon closer to the Nazi’s grasp.” Delphine exhaled deeply, knowing how her story ended. “We’re supposed to die. Let us do it with a purpose.” She opened the box, turning to the crew, “How long can you keep the boat steady?”

“Not long.” the Captain admitted, “And once they resume their attack-”

“Give me every second you can.”

“Delphine, what are you doing?”

“One minute.”

“I’m going to get you home,” she said, looking up to Dean. Her fellow Man of Letters. “And I’m going to get you and your men your first German ship.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam groaned from the floor, slowly picking himself up as Lucifer fell before him, making Sam cower away from him, “No, no-”

“Sam, it’s me.” This time, the voice coming out of Cas was genuine as he struggled to regain his body.

“Cas?” Sam groaned in pain, glancing to his left where Y/N still laid unmoving on the ground, “Why?”

“I wanted to be of service to the fight,” he answered simply. “And only Lucifer can beat Amara.”

“You chose this?” Sam asked, realization hitting him, “You have to fight, Cas. Eject him now!”

“I can’t!” Cas groaned, “It’s taking all my strength to keep him from killing you guys. And besides we need him-”

“No, Cas, we don’t.” Sam said, shaking his head, checking on Y/N again. “We’ll find another way to stop Amara.”

Sam watched his friend struggle with trying to fight Lucifer off, reminding him how it was when he himself was possessed by Lucifer, how it nearly killed him inside.

Cas breathed heavily, his grip on Lucifer becoming weaker. “We need him to save Dean.”

“You can’t time travel.”

“Only Lucifer can.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“How fast is your ride back?” Delphine asked.

“Fast.”

“Good.”

“It’s time!”

Delphine pulled the Hand of God out of the box, holding it in her hands. Explosions immediately began to rock the boat, sending everyone on board flying in several different directions. Delphine slowly came to her feet, the Hand of God glowing in her palms.

The light from the Hand of God trailed up her arms, the glowing red moving to her neck then to her face until even her eyes changed color. Slowly, she turned to Dean, her eyes glowing white as she slid the Hand of God toward him. He picked it up, placing it back into the box.

Delphine’s eyes glowed so bright nobody could even catch a glimpse of them. Explosions continued to rain down on either side of the boat, panels in the control room popping down the line.

Panic filled the room once again as a fire erupted from the engine room, but Dean could only focus on Delphine who arched her back, throwing her head backwards, another bomb coming down on the bow of the ship, sending everyone flying just as-

The room finally stopped shaking, Dean’s feet finally meeting a ground that wasn’t bobbing left and right on water.

He was home.

“Dean.” Sam said, struggling on the floor. Dean looked behind him to where Y/N was holding her midsection, the palm of her hand held over her sternum.

“Dean, that’s not Cas!” Y/N shouted, her voice hoarse as she pointed to Lucifer who still had his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Slowly, Dean turned his head toward Lucifer, his eyes wide.

Lucifer smiled guiltily, “Cat’s out.” Grabbing the back of Dean’s shirt, Lucifer threw him over the library tables, knocking him to the other side of the room. “Mm! I feel a burden lifted!” Dean groaned as he rolled over onto his back, holding his side where he most definitely cracked a rib or two. “You know, this whole ‘deep cover’ thing, it just wasn’t- it wasn’t terribly well thought out.”

Sam, Dean and Y/N struggled to sit up straighter as they listened to Lucifer’s monologue.

“...Donning this...this Cas mask? This grim face of angelic constipation? Just, ugh.” he groaned dramatically. Sam slowly inched his hand toward his back pocket where he held his pocket knife. Sliding it out of his jeans expertly as he switched the blade open, cutting deep into his hand. “And then teaming up with you three? I mean...I thought you guys were insufferable as mortal enemies. But working with you? Ugh. That’s the soul crusher.”

Dean and Y/N slowly stood to their feet, buying Sam more time but were only thrown back to separate walls again, grunts of pain escaping their lips as they connected with the concrete.

“What’s with the long faces? You should be cheering. We have a common enemy! With this,” he said, holding up the Hand of God. “Amara will be no problem. I mean...I will have killed you both by then, but still...come on.”

Lucifer unwrapped the cloth surrounding the Hand of God, making the three of them stop in their tracks.

“No,” Dean said, remembering what Delphine had said about the potency of it.

“Don’t touch it with bare hands”

Her words echoed through Dean’s head just as Lucifer plucked it out of the cloth.

“No!”

Lucifer held it, gripping it tight as they watched, unable to do anything. However, the Hand of God didn’t flash bright fancy lights, it didn’t even sputter.

Lucifer’s lips twitched in anger as he looked at it, “It’s kicked.”

“Well,” Y/N said, laughing lightly. “Who’d have thought the Hand of God would turn out to be a one-hitter?”

Lucifer glared at her, throwing what was now just a piece of stone onto the library table as he advanced toward her, coming closer and closer until a bright flash of light filled the room. And as it dimmed, Lucifer disappeared with it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So,” Sam began, sitting next to Y/N and Dean on a concrete bench on the dock of a lake.

“So.”

“Cas,” Dean said, exhaling through his nose.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I- I should’ve listened to you when you said you knew something was up.”

Y/N shrugged. “Doesn’t matter...what do we do?”

“What else?” Dean asked, making Sam and Y/N turn to him. “We hunt Lucifer, trap the bastard, and save Cas.”

“Like I said, Lucifer may be in control now, but Cas may not come back willingly.” Sam said, hating that he was admitting something he so badly didn’t want to believe. “I mean he chose it.”

“No,” Dean denied, “no, not possible.”

“So how’d you get through today?” Y/N asked, trying to change the subject. “I mean, what did you do?”

“Nothing,” He said simply. Dean shook his head as if trying to forget all that had happened in the last few hours. “I mean, they...I was just a witness.”

A beat of silence passed before Sam spoke up, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Dean looked down at his hands, shaking his head again. “No. Story for another day.”

Sam nodded, understanding that what Dean had seen must have been bad enough. Neither him nor Y/N would prod any further than Dean was ready. Sam began to stand, walking back to the car as Y/N followed but was stopped by Dean’s voice.

“The German ship that sank the Bluefin, what happened to it?”

“It went down,” Y/N said, recalling the book she’d read. “Unlike the sub, its wreckage was found. Um, there was a giant hole that’d been ripped through the entire thing. And something must have hit the fuel tanks and exploded. But it burned. Sank.”

Sam and Y/N retreated to the car, leaving Dean as he sat on the dock, holding the Hand of God, smiling.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Forever Tag List

Want to be notified when I post a oneshot? Let me know by sending me an ask to be tagged to the Forever Tag List!

39 notes · View notes

hetalia-tlw · 6 years ago

Text

Hetalia: The Lost World Part 3

“So you basically cursed Iyong ju, because he killed his own brother” said Oliver. “Yes I did. In fact it didn’t took long for Iyong ju to realize what I did to him, that he managed to gain his independence from Ivan” said England. “So he when did he actually discovered the curse?” asked Oliver. “I really don’t know when, but during this time, I managed to go back into South Korea to find some clues in Yong Soo’s house. I did find some blood on the floor of his living room and did some sampling. It turns out that the moment when he slapped Iyong ju on the face, Iyong ju managed to give the poison to his own brother” said England. “You mean Iyong ju gave Yong Soo the poison by having it rub from his face to his brother’s hand” said Oliver while figuring it out. “Apparently yes” said England.

Before England can say anymore, a timer went off and Oliver went over to the oven. “Oh, my cupcakes are done! Now let’s see what condition these cuties are in” he said. Oliver took out his cupcakes just to find that there’re fine. He then carried the tray with him down the basement stairs, as England follows him. England kept following Oliver until he reached the same room where they left Roland. “Uh lad did you just followed me?” asked Oliver while he turned around thus surprising England.

“Uh, yeah I just did. Tell me where’re you going with those cupcakes and why” said England. “Oh I was just coming down here for feeding time” said Oliver with cheerful look. “Feeding time? Let me guess, you’re feeding 2P Austria cupcakes?” asked England with his arms crossed. “Yeah you got that right, poppet” said Oliver while turning back around to open the door and going inside, with England going in after him. “Lad can you do me a favor? I would like some help to removing that handkerchief off his mouth” said Oliver. “Fine! I’ll help you” sighed England in defeat.

England then went over to Roland to remove the handkerchief that’s covering his mouth. “Argh! Finally it’s about time zhat I can talk again!” said Roland in excitement. “Since you’re so happy, it’s your feeding time” said Oliver smiling. “Feeding time? Zhanks but I’m not hungry for cupcakes, I’m hungry for pizza” said Roland. “Now now Roland, you are hungry and you need something better than pizza” said Oliver. Before Roland could anything else, Oliver was pulled by England.

“Uh Oliver just give it up there is no way you can give him cupcakes” whispered England. “Oh of course he will! Just watch, I’ll using my secret method on him” whispered Oliver with a sinister smile. ‘Did he just used a sinister smile? I’m not sure what my 2P would do to another person or 2P. However since he’s the opposite of me, what could go wrong? Who knows what he’ll do’ thought England as he watched Oliver walk over to Roland and stopping in front of him. “Now listen up Roland. I have been such a nice and caring person, since the day we first met. But there are some people who get on my nerves, especially when they turn down my friendly offers” said Oliver still keeping his smile, while England stands watching the whole scene unfold. “Now Roland, if you try to turn down my offer of cupcakes I’ll be forced to grab you by the base of your neck and with a knife, I’ll slice your throat till you bleed and I’ll start shoving cupcakes down your throat of your already dead body” said Oliver with a creepy smile and a venomous voice. “Okay, okay I give up! Not because I’m hungry, but I’m afraid of vhat jou’ll do to me!” yelled Roland while panicking.

“Now that makes me happy! Here, pick whatever one you want” said Oliver while holding out the tray in front of Roland. Roland is trying to pick one until Oliver cut in saying “Go on ahead poppet, pick your poison” “I’ll guess I’ll chose zhe red one, since it’s mein favorite color” said Roland. “Good choice poppet” said Oliver with a smile. “Actually I can’t move mein hand to grab it, so can jou give me a hand?” asked Roland while trying to move around proving his point to Oliver. “Oh of course! Here let me help you” said Oliver. Soon Roland finished his red cupcake that was made by Oliver, the next thing was both England and Oliver walking out of the room and were heading to the stairs.

“What was that weird atmosphere that I just witnessed?” asked England. “Oh that? Well it counts as your dark side and since 2Ps are created off of your painful and dark times, we even act as the opposites of your personality as a 1P” said Oliver. “When you were talking to Roland, was it true that you have been a nice person to the other 2Ps?” asked England. “Of course I was lad! I’m still am. but however when people turn down my offers to them, even though I was being nice and if they keep giving me a hard time, I’m forced to kill them, by either using a knife to slice their throats or but putting poison in their cupcakes” said Oliver. “Okay, I hope the red cupcake you gave to Roland wasn’t poisonous” said England. “Oh it wasn’t, but I was about ready to drive him into insanity” said Oliver.

“Okay then, if you need me I get ready for a world meeting” said England. “World meeting? I haven’t been to one for a long time. Is it okay if me and Roland tag along with you?” asked Oliver. “Wait… what!? Hold on you just can’t-” England was about to finish his sentence, until he noticed Oliver doing the puppy eyes. “Fine, you guys can come with me. But don’t cause any attention on yourselves. Got it?” said England. “Why thank you! You’re too kind! It’s a deal! Let me go get Roland” said Oliver as he turned back around and quickly came back with Roland behind him. “Okay then, let’s go to the meeting” said England. “Yay!” yelled Oliver in excitement.

~Meanwhile With The Axis~

“And that’s our story” said Norway who was done telling a story to Germany, Italy, and Japan. “So you’re saying that North Korea just scared you to death when you saw him?” asked Japan. “Yes, he did. In fact he even scared Simon way too good” replied Sweden. “I-I wasn’t scared of him! What are you guys talking about? I was so awesome” said Denmark while standing up in a spotlight. “Oh yes you were. In fact you were so scared of him after he sliced your axe in two” said Finland. “Hey what are you doing!? Quit making a mess! If you…. ahh!” yelled Iceland.

“S-Sorry! I-a was trying to-a make-a pasta, but my-a fingers slipped when you-a scared me!” yelled Italy while trying clean up the mess. “Sorry Berwald about the kitchen even though I should clean it; however, it’s Simon’s turn” said Iceland. “What!? The king of the Nordics doesn’t do chores! Instead his royal and most trustworthy subjects do the cleaning” said Denmark while crossing his arms. “Technically kings also do everyday chores, they even do chores when it’s just their own privacy” said Sweden. “What!? So I’ve been doing chores during my conquering days!? How could I’ve not known!?” yelled Denmark in defeat. “Looks like somebody needs to go to the box of shame” said Norway.

“Seriously!? Do I have to?” asked Denmark. “Yeah you do. For only ten minutes so you can clean up the mess. Then it’s back to the box for about twenty minutes” said Finland. “T-Twenty minutes!? Well then I better get it over it” said Denmark while standing up and having Iceland lead him to the box of shame. “Japan ve need to go, ve got a vorld meeting” said Germany while looking at his phone. “Another worrd meeting? Who is it being run by?” asked Japan. “It’s by England. Verdammt, it better not be about France or America” said Germany.

Germany then went into the Nordic’s kitchen to get Italy and was surprised by the mess. “Mein gott, I need to teach Italy how to clean up after himself” said Germany. “No, not the pasta! Let-a me fix this-a bit” said Italy. “Italy! Ve need to go! Ve got a-” Germany was soon cut off by Italy who pulled out a white flag and started to wave it around saying “No no no! Don’t-a hurt me! I-a surrender!” Germany then made Italy turn around to face him and Italy then stopped waving his flag. “Oh, Germany! When-a did you-a get in-a here?” asked Italy. “Zhis isn’t zhe time to be playing games, Italy! Ve need to go, right now! Ve got a vorld meeting!” said Germany. Soon Italy, Germany, and Japan then left the Nordic 5 territory and are heading to the United Nations in New York.

~Meanwhile At The United Nations~

“So this is your United Nations headquarters? I like it” said Oliver while holding a rope to Roland. “I vas hoping it vill have a lot of shades of red” said Roland who was disappointed with the colors of the walls. “Anyway we’re almost getting closer to the meeting room. When we get there I want you to take a seat by the window” said England. “Isn’t there suppose to a lot of seats for every single country of the world?” asked Oliver. “There is. However, since a lot of countries aren’t around and some of them are dissolved there are a lot of empty seats” said England. “So if they are empty seats that belonged to countries that are dissolved or busy doing their own thing, then is it okay if we seat in them?” asked Oliver.

“Find you may. But you and Roland must be together so people won’t get confused” said England. “Okay, thanks” said Oliver as he and Roland found two seats and sat down in them. Soon all the countries came and sat down, even the Axis came along with the rest of the Allied Powers came (expect for America, cuz’ he’s late again). Canada who was one of first people to come in and went unnoticed sat down between Oliver and Roland. “Ello there lad! You must be Canada! Nice to meet you!” said Oliver while smiling at Canada.

“Uhh… t-thanks y-you’re too k-kind. Wait… Arthur you know me, so why are you saying that I must be Canada?” asked Canada. “Oh lad. I may be England, but I’m 2P England and my name is Oliver Kirkland. The gentleman next to you is 2P Austria” said Oliver. Canada then turned his head over to 2P Austria and waved a hello sign to him, which to his surprise he heard 2P Austria saying “Hallo zhere! Nice to meet jou! I am 2P Austria, but jou call me Roland Edelstein und I like rock ‘n’ roll” said Roland. Soon America then came in late, while trying to catch his breath. “Jou’re late, America! Vhy iz zhat?” asked Germany while looking at America who was sweat dropping.

“Hehe! Sorry Germany, I was just running from trouble and coming from McDonald’s. In speaking of which, I’m gonna chow down on this delicious Big Mac” said America while unwrapping a Big Mac and began eating it as he went to sit down. “Okay zhen vith zhat out of zhe vay, let’s get down to business” said Germany. France who got up without being asked said “I got a vhole lot of text messages from Arthur, some of zhem said 'bloody frog’ and vat vas zis about an old friend vho returned?” asked France. While everyone was talking about this, America was having a moment with himself.

*Flashback*

“Damn it! The hero just got a whole lot of text messages from Arthur. Oh! What’s this? Holy crap, I gotta get going!” yelled America as he gotten a message from England to come to another world meeting. While America ran out of his house, cut through the woods to get to the United Nations (and McDonald’s) faster.

In the woods, America kept running, until he was suddenly stopped by a North Korean swat team. At first America couldn’t make out the flag design on their arms until he realized what country they’re from. America was about to say something until he was tackled to the ground by a mysterious person wearing a full black military uniform, that looks similar to Germany’s. While America was on the ground he yelled at the person who tackled him saying “Just who are you and why would you tackle the hero like that?” “Geuligo dangsin-eun geuleon na hante eotteohge silhaeng gamhi (And how dare you run from me like that)” said the man. “What? Umm… dude I don’t know what you just said. Do you have a translator or can you please speak English?” asked America. Just after America finished talking a man with glasses came along with a woman wearing a military uniform.

“Well of course he has a translator and you’re even looking right at him. What he just said was in the language of Korean and he was asking you why were you running from him” said the man. “Uhh… I was going to a world meeting and I’m even more late because of you guys. By the way can I get some names here?” asked America. “Well umm… sorry about that. I am North Korea’s private translator and my name is Hyeon” said Hyeon. “I am North Korea’s leader and commander of the both North Korean army and swat team, but you may call me Chung-Cha” said the woman standing next to Hyeon. “Okay cool dude and dudette! I am Alfred F. Jones, but I’m known as the hero, but you may call me America!” said America with smile and giving a thumps up on the ground. “Hello America hero” said Chung-Cha with a stern expression.

“By the way who’s North Korea? I thought I heard Arthur saying that he dissolved” said America while giving a puzzled look. “Dangsin-I wi ui hananeun, dangsin-eun babo (The one who’s above you, you moron)!” yelled the man who’s atop of America. “Uh… dudes I need some of that translation here” said America. “He just said that he’s North Korea and he’s the guy who tackled you” said Hyeon. “Oh you mean this guy who’s on top of me? Umm… dude can you please get off? I would like to stand up now” said America as the man the did what he was asked/told and allowed him to stand up. America then got up and started to do superhero poses, as a form of checking his circulation.

“Geulaeseo migug eun hangug jeonjaeng e daehae alh-eun nalaleul gieog (So America remember the country whom you battled against in the Korean War)?” asked North Korea. “He asked if you remember battling against him during the Korean War” said Hyeon. “Well I do recall helping South Korea in order to stop North Korea, but I never knew who was the actual personification of North Korea” said America. “Geuleom dangsin eun yeojeonhi hangug-i jug-eossdaneun geos-eul deudgo gieog haneunga? Nuga geuleul jug-in geos gat-ayo? Geugeos-eun jeoleul haessada-eun jeoleul haessda, bughan (Well do you still remember that Korea died? Guess who killed him? It was me, North Korea)!” said North Korea. “He asked you if you remember getting a letter saying that Korea or also known as South Korea died” said Hyeon. “Well technically it was China who got the part that his own brother died. But it didn’t say who killed him” said America.

“Well you’re not gonna like it when I tell you who did it” said Hyeon, while bringing down his head and putting it back up in order to look at America. “You mean you know who killed South Korea? I don’t care who did, but at least I should know so I can give him something on his memorial plate” said America. “It was North Korea himself” said Hyeon as he looked away. “What? Why would you kill him North? Why would you kill South Korea?” asked America. “Iyu ui won-in-idoebnida. Annyeong amelika! Geugeos-i majimag i doel geos-ibnida e daehan dangsin-ui jag-eun segye hoeui leul jeulgil su (Cause for reasons. Goodbye America! Enjoy your little world meeting for it will be your last)” said North Korea. Before Hyeon could translate, North Korea did a hand gesture for his North Korean swat time to head back to North Korea.

Hyeon even got grabbed by Chung-Cha along with North Korea following behind them and his swat team taking different routes. “I’m glad that they left, but the hero feels bad of how they treat Hyeon. He seems to be a nice guy, but why does he work for the person who killed South Korea? Oh my god, I am definitely going to be super late! I need to get to the meeting before Germany kicks my butt!” yelled America as he started to run.

*Flashback Ends*

After America was done a moment to himself, he looked up just in time to see both England and France in a wrestling ring who both began fighting as a bell dinged. “VHAT DID I TELL JOU TWO DUMMKOPFS ABOUT FIGHTING DURING ZHE MEETING!?” yelled Germany at the top of his lungs. “Sounds like someone needs a cupcake” said Oliver with a smile. “More like a punch in zhe face” growled Roland.

“Excuse me? Now zhat doesn’t sound very nice” said a Austrian voice. Canada, Oliver, and Roland looked over and saw Austria. “A-Austria!? H-how long h-have you b-been standing there?” asked Canada. “Vell I’ve been here listening to jour conversation and I just vanted to know if England created zhis look a like of me” said Austria while pointing to Roland. “How rude! I have jou know zhat I’m perfection” said Roland. “Excuse me kind sir, I’m sorry that this lad has been trying to give you trouble. I’m sure it won’t happen again” said Oliver while smiling nervously.

“It better not happen again or else I’ll have resort into using mein anger to play on a piano” said Austria. “Vell zhen, I’ll be using mein anger into playing on mein awesome rock guitar” said Roland through clenched teeth. Austria then let out a angry grunt and walked away, while Canada was trying to find the regular England who was seen fighting in a wrestling ring with France. England managed to punch France so hard, that he flew out of the ring and came crashing down on Canada. “Finally, I’ve managed to beat up that bloody frog!” yelled England in victory, while Sealand who came unnoticed grabbed chips from the snack table. When Sealand turned to leave he was stopped Roland who said “Vell look vhat ve got here, a little boy stealing chips. How cute”

“Oi! Hey you punk rock reject, how dare you scare this child like that? Hey there little lad, are you okay?” asked Oliver who came behind Roland. “Yeah, I am. Hey, Arthur why are dressed up like that and since when do you care about me?” asked Sealand. “Oh lad, I may look like Arthur but I’m-” Oliver was soon cut short when England came and said “Sealand, what did I tell you about coming into the meetings and stealing chips?” Sealand then gave a confusing and questioning look, while looking at both England and Oliver. “I see you’ve met my 2P counterpart, Oliver Kirkland and yes I know, I just couldn’t keep both of them away from trouble” sighed England in defeat. “Both of them?” asked Sealand.

“Yes, I mean both Oliver and Roland” said England. “Roland is a 2P? If Oliver is your 2P, doesn’t that mean I have a 2P as well?” asked Sealand in excitement. “Well apparently you once did lad. Until the Great War came and nearly caused a lot of deaths. However, there are a few 2Ps left” said Oliver. “Speaking of which Sealand, Roland is Austria’s 2P counterpart” said England. “What he means lad, this is the punk rock reject, who’s standing right next to me” said Oliver with a smirk. “Vhy jou little… jou are so lucky zhat I can’t put jou out of jour misery in front of zhis child” said Roland with his arms crossed.

“Uh okay. If you guys need me I’ll be swimming with the Nordics at the water park in Disney World” said Sealand before running off. “F-Francis!? C-Could y-you get o-off of me please?” asked Canada while France wakes up and gets off of Canada’s back. “Japan what’s that, aru?” asked China. “It’s a grassed rose. Itary found it in the forest” said Japan. “Ve~! I-a even showed it to-a both Germany and-a Japan. When it-a opened it was-a big surprise!” said Italy. “When it opened, we got shocking surprise from South Korea or how I rike to carr him Korea” said Japan.

“Really!? What did he say to you guys, aru?” asked China. “Werr he said that North Korea is back and has returned for unknown purposes” said Japan. “So North Korea came back for a reason that we don’t know, aru?” asked China. “Werr maybe we courd get more information if the rose opens up for a second time” said Japan. “Does Romano knows about this, because he currently grew afraid of North Korea during his rise, aru?” asked China. “Knows about-a what?” asked a voice.

Japan, China, and Italy turn there heads to see South Italy aka Romano. “Ve~! Romano! Do you-a mind telling us-a your experience with-a North Korea?” asked Italy. “What!? There-a is-a no way, that-a I’m-a telling you-a idotas about that-a bastardo. He’s-a worse than-a the potato loving bastard!” yelled Romano. “Vho are jou relating me to, Romano?” asked Germany who came behind Romano. “N-Nothing! Get-a way from-a me!” yelled Romano as he turned to look at Germany. “So I’m guessing zhat jou told China about South Korea?” asked Germany, while both Italy and Japan nodded in agreement.

“Yes, yes they did, aru” said China. “I suppose ve talk about zhis after everyone has left” said Germany. Soon after seven hours had passed everyone soon left the meeting, while the Allied and Axis Powers remained. “Say it’s getting late, ve should be going home now” said France before yawning. “There is plenty of leftover food on the table, da” said Russia, while standing next to the snack table. “Ello there everybody, how’s everyone doing?” asked Oliver who got on top of the table until he was dragged off by England.

“Uhh… Arthur who’s that?” asked America while pointing at Oliver. 'Oh just great, someone just had to noticed’ thought England until Oliver said “Well I’m 2P England and my name is Oliver Kirkland” said Oliver with a smile. “Oliver? Vat kind of name iz zat?” asked France. “You bloody frog, I’ll have you know that Oliver is a popular boy name yet its barely used as a name in real life” said England. “Okay then who’s that?” asked America, while pointing at Roland. “That’s the rock punk reject 2P version of Austria. His name is Roland Edelstein” said Oliver.

“Quit calling me a reject, jou cupcake loving freak!” yelled Roland. “Okay then nice to meet you dude! Quick question: who’s that standing next to Francis?” asked America while pointing at Canada. “I’m Canada!” yelled Canada. “Who are you again exactly?” asked America. “Your brother!” yelled Canada. “Oh sorry about that dude” said America who then begins laughing.

“2P? What is that?” asked Japan. England then turned off the lights in the room and turned on a projector. He than placed a piece of paper in the middle. “This paper here is a list of the 2Ps, who were created after us. We are called 1Ps” explained England. Romano then raised his hand and asked “Excuse me? But why-a I am-a called Flavio?” “Well lad, it’s because your 2P calls himself fashionable and decided to name himself that” said Oliver.

“Also since 1Ps and 2Ps are different from each other, we have the same appearances and body shapes. However our personalities are different” said England. “So my 2P doesn’t call himself a hero?” asked America while giving off a sad expression. “Well yes. For an example: 1P England is serious and likes making scones, while his 2P which is me, is always so happy and loves to make cupcakes” said Oliver. “Since I’m 2P Austria, I like wearing punk leather outfits and I like rock 'n’ roll music, while my 1P wears fancy clothes and enjoys classical music. In speaking of classical music, I find my 1P so…. boring” said Roland while ending his sentence with a yawn. “So does my 2P rike to tark more, whire I don’t unress I have something to say?” asked Japan. “Well actually no lad, your 2P only talks when spoken to and when you walk by him, he doesn’t say a word but he thinks of something perverting” said Oliver.

“So my 2P is rike the regurar France. I show respect, but my 2P shows royarty” said Japan. “Does-a my 2P still likes-a pasta?” asked Italy. “Well he still does. However, unlike you being so nice and kind, your 2P is actually ruthless and mean” said Oliver. “WHAT!?” yelled Italy, while panicking and running behind Germany. “Also Germany or should I say 1P Germany, since you’re serious and a neat freak, your 2P well he’s sorta lazy and most of all messy” said Oliver. “Say vhat!? Does mein 2P like do anyzhing, like train or fight?” asked Germany.

“Well he does. He mostly sleeps all day, but still makes wurst, trains, and most importantly he still can fight with a AK-47” said Oliver. “I actually meant does he like fight in hand-to-hand combat? Zhat’s all I need to know” said Germany. “Apparently he can, unless he’s provoked or forced to. Otherwise he’ll fall asleep in battle” said Oliver. “Hmm…. zhat sounds pretty lazy to me. I’m surprised zhat mein 2P can get zhings done or else I’ll just have to kick his ass” said Germany. “There was a time that he was a heavy drinker and a smoker. In fact one time he was so depress, I caught him before he committed suicide” said Oliver. “Ve~! Why-a would-a he want-a to do-a that?” asked Italy while coming from behind Germany.

“Because he was suffering from loneliness” said Oliver. 'So mein 2P has been suffering from Einsamkeit?’ thought Germany 'I’m surprised zhat I didn’t zhink about doing zhat, till zhe day Italy und I became friends’ “Germany, Germany…. Oliver is-a going to-a tell us more about-a the 2Ps” said Italy while waving his hand to snap Germany back into reality. “2P Russia has been a quiet and depressed person after since the Soviet Union times. But however, he does have a brutal personality” said Oliver. “So you’re saying that my 2P and I both share the same tragic past, da?” asked Russia. “Yes I am. Moving onto 2P China, he is rude and mean unlike 1P China who’s nice and polite. In fact 2P China dislikes anything that’s cute” said Oliver.

“Well that sounds kind of right to be honest, aru” said China. “2P America calls himself even more superior than anyone and he’s a huge fan of baseball. He also calls himself the best gang member and street fighter” said Oliver. “I guess my 2P does kinda mentions that he’s a hero” said America. “2P Canada usually talks, but remains silent during a battle. He uses his quietness to sneak up on his victims and kills them without anyone noticing him. In fact he’s a huge hockey fan and often hangs out with 2P America. 2P Canada also has polar bear named Kuma, however Kuma is larger than 1P Canada’s bear” said Oliver. “So my 2P uses his quietness to kill people without them noticing him? I bet he isn’t even nice and polite to people who he crosses paths with” said Canada. “Hey you black sheep of Europe, vat about my 2P?” asked France.

“Stop calling me the black sheep of Europe, you bloody frog!” yelled England. “2P France is depressed and doesn’t wear fancy clothes. He is even a dangerous pervert and he has a lust for more love” said Oliver. “So my 2P has a bigger lust of more love zhan ze 1P country of love?” asked France. “Okay my lads, since I’ve told you about your 2P counterparts, what are you planning to do next?” asked Oliver. “Vell ve’re going to talk about a glassed rose zhat Italy found” said Germany. “Si! Here-a it is! Isn’t it-a beautiful?” asked Italy while putting the glassed rose on the table.

“Cool dudes! Where did you guys find it at?” asked America. “We found it deep in a forest. It opened up and it was unberievabre” said Japan. “It was a message from South Korea or should I say Korea, aru” said China. “Korea?” asked everyone who were all shocked. “It’s-a been-a long time since-a I heard about-a Korea” said Romano. While everyone was looking at the glassed rose and talking about Korea/South Korea, England noticed that America was staring off into space.

“Alfred, what’s wrong. It looks like you’ve seen a ghost” said England. “A ghost!? Why no Arthur, it’s just I ran into something when I was running late to the meeting earlier today” said America. “What exactly happened before coming to the meeting with a Big Mac from McDonald’s?” asked England. “Well I was running through the woods which is like a faster route to the meeting, I sorta ran into trouble. I tried to run away from a swat team, until a man tackled me. He then spoke in the language of Korean and he did had a translator with him, who told me that the man who’s speaking Korean says that he’s North Korea” said America. “What? You ran into North Korea?” asked England in shock. “Yeah I did, but it seems that you know him. So do you know anything about North Korea?” asked America.

“Well of course I do, because he was my former friend and ally. He was even the man that you were hanging out with and was responsible for ambushing me” said England. “You don’t mean…. that was the man I was hanging out with during my childhood?” asked America. “Yes, it was. Listen to me Alfred, the North Korea that you fought was once the older brother of Korea and was the capital Seoul. He was responsible for killing his own brother” said England. “I know he killed his brother, because he already told me. But he never told me how he killed him and we’ll never know to this day” said America. “You want to know how he killed his brother? Well I tell you how. He killed his brother by poisoning him through his hatred” said England. “What!? North Korea poisoned his own brother and did you really placed a curse on him?” asked America.

“Of course I did! But I didn’t bother to tell anyone. In fact I thought the curse killed him years ago” said England. “But even though that curse was suppose to kill him, he’s still alive to this day” said America. “But how can he still be alive!? There was someone who probably saved him, before the curse could kill him” said England. “Kesese~! Zhe awesome Prussia has arrived, just in time to party!” yelled Prussia as he came through the doors. “Wait Alfred, I think I know who probably saved North Korea from his own death” said England. “You do? So who is it then?” asked America. “Why are you such a bloody idiot at times? It’s obviously Prussia, just take a look” said England. Soon America and England were facing Prussia who made his way towards the snack table.

#hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fan series #hetalia the lost world #hetalia characters

2 notes · View notes

solrosan · 7 years ago

Text

Great Coat of Arms of Sweden

First I want to say “I fucking knew it!” The coat of arms shown at the end of Eggsy and Tilde’s wedding is the actual Great Coat of Arms of the Kingdom of Sweden. Then I suppose I have to admit that checking this was one of the main reasons I went to watch it in cinema for a second time...

And now when I’ve finally got my DVD + time to do this, let me bore you with some information about it and tell you how this proves (against all my personal headcanons) that Tilde is a Bernadotte and part of the longest reign royal family in Swedish history (celebrating 200 years this year).

The first picture is the best screengrab I managed as the camera swept past it in the church and the second is the Great Coat of Arms of the Kingdom of Sweden. As you can see, they are the same!

A coat of arms is, in simple terms, a symbol of a person, family, or organization. Sweden has two official coats of arms, a greater one (as seen above) and a lesser one. (you can see it here) The greater one is the personal coat of arms of the Head of State. In other words, it’s the monarch’s coat of arms. The lesser one is, in lack of a better way of phrasing it, ours. Never mind that it’s used for the government, the police, the military etc. It belongs to all Swedes, not as in “we all have a coat of arms” but as in “we’ve claimed the symbol of the three golden crowns and you can try stopping us from using it.” Like... our national hockey teams which just landed in South Korea are officially called “The Three Crowns” and “The Lady Crowns” and wears them on their uniforms.

Moving on, you’re not interested in that... and I wasn’t supposed to talk about the lesser one. The lesser one is, however, part of the greater one, so I’m allowed.

How much Swedish history can you stomach? None? Okay. Sorry, I can’t do that.

I can, however, start with the actual Kingsman fandom relevant part.

As I said, the greater coat of arms is the monarch’s personal coat of arms. It represents the reign king or queen -- in this case, Tilde’s dad -- and by extension their family.

The crown, the lions, the four quarterings, the collar of the Royal Order of the Seraphim, and the golden cross are all pretty generic symbols in Swedish royal heraldry tradition. The inescutcheon (which I like to call the heart shield, but have been told it’s not called at all) on the other hand is used to show hereditary arms. Which means, going by how they use the actual Great Coats of Arms of the Kingdom of Sweden, that Tilde’s dad is a Bernadotte.

What this means in terms of inverse reality, I don’t know. It goes against all my headcanons and makes me low-key sad since I’m going with a counterfactual history where Prince Karl Adolf didn’t die and actually became king making the inverse royal family of Holstein-Gottorp. I might get back to exploring how to shoehorn Tilde into the Bernadotte later. ETA: I thought about it! Here it is! Short story: our currently king was never born, Prince Bertil is Tilde’s grandfather.

Now, let’s get back to the coat of arms if anyone is still interested!

To the left of the inescutcheon is the coat of arms for House of Vasa. The first Swedish king of this house, Gustav Eriksson Vasa, is the reason thousands of idiots travel 90 km on skis between Sälen and Mora each year and the rebel who made his country leave a union 500 years before David Cameron was born.

(Side note to all the Danes out there: if you honestly believe Sweden was Danish during the Kalmar Union then you can’t claim that Denmark exists anymore since Denmark is a part of the European Union.)

Gustav Eriksson Vasa was a rebel, a reformer, a businessman, a tyrant, an oath breaker, a child wedder, a murderer, and... the one who lay the foundation of the Lutheran protestant tax loving Sweden we see today. He was also the person who decided that the Swedish crown should be passed on from father to son. And that’s his family coat of arms.

The right side of the inescutcheon is the coat of arms of Jean Baptiste Bernadotte as prince of Ponte Corvo and Marshal of France (which -- and this I had to look up -- apparently is a combo of Napoleon Bonaparte’s and Ponte Corvo’s coats of arms). Those of you who knows your Swedish history, knows that Jean Baptiste Bernadotte had a tattoo on his chest that said “Death to kings” which is ironic since he died as King Charles XIV John of Sweden. (If you really know your Swedish history you know that the part about the tattoo is untrue, but it’s a good story.)

The first and fourth quartering (I want to say third, because math, but sure) are the coat of arms for Albrekt of Mecklenburg who was King of Sweden in the late 14th century. He created it after overthrowing the House of Folkung and deciding that it wouldn’t do to use their coat of arms as his own.

Why he decided on three crowns or what they might symbolize has been debated over the centuries, but it’s likely that it’s either the three wise men or the three kingdoms Sweden once was. Or why not both? Either way, it’s ours now.

Also, tough luck, Albrekt! Guess what! The second and third quartering are the coat of arms of the House of Folkung -- the golden lion on three silver rods on blue background. (If anyone has watched the Swedish movie Arn - The Knight Templer then it might interest you to know that he’s a Folkung.)

The collar around the shield is the collar of the Order of the Seraphim which Tilde’s mum and dad wears at the dinner with Eggsy. The crown is there because it’s royal and the lions... there are always lions. I’m sure there’s a fascinating story somewhere but I can’t be arsed to look it up.

Lastly, the golden cross. It is, unsurprisingly, the cross from the flag. There is this lovely myth about Saint Erik, king of Sweden back in the day when we were Catholics in the 12th century, being away at a crusade in Finland (because it’s what you did back then) and seeing a burning cross in the sky and hearing God’s voice telling him that under this symbol, he would be victorious. In a more atheistic version of the story, it’s an old rebel flag when Charles VIII of Sweden (that’s Karl Knutsson Bonde for all the Swedes out there) went to war against the Danes in the 15th century, using Albrekt and the House of Folkung’s colours as inspiration for a remake of the Danish red and white flag.

Even if all of the things in the former paragraph can and should be taken with a grain of salt, known is that Charles VIII was the one who designed the coat of arms shield that is used today and that the Swedish flag is considered the second oldest national flag in the world, the Danish being the oldest.

(Last, I just want to say that I’m sorry, I know it’s often preferred to call House of Folkung the House of Bjälbo these days to avoid confusions, but I honestly wouldn’t know who I was talking about if I did. #oldschoolhistory)

#kingsman meta #kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #swedish stuff

9 notes · View notes

cece2046 · 7 years ago

Text

Close the Curtains - Chap 3

Thank you my beta @reynardinepttr! for loving the direction this is going!

Teddy Lupin × Hermione Granger

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12748991/3/Close-the-Curtains

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12922338/chapters/30119079

@sissannis Come on here and rant to me and ask your damn questions about that song!

It surprised me a bit that I never met her in this house again after that night. It shouldn’t, but it did. I know all the facts. She’s back for a reason. Since she’s back for Harry, then good chances are she’s back for some serious shit that’s going down in the background that we innocent citizens have no clues about. In that case, she must be busy, so it’s perfectly reasonable that she’s never at home for dinner, never home before everyone went to bed, and never home after everyone got up. If it weren’t for the soft footsteps I heard in the midnight from my room, I’d say that she never came back, ever.

Sometimes I sit on my floor beside my bedroom door and just wait. I can hear her. My hearing ability is quite impressive. Not like dogs or something. I can’t predict earthquakes. No. But I can hear her movements in this house. She’s opening the front door. She’s stepping into the house. She’s closing the door. Silence. What’s she doing? I imagine her leaning on the wall and staring blankly, exhausted from all her work. Whatever that is. I want to go down there and comfort her, maybe get her a cup of tea, but something’s holding me back. I can still feel her on my fingertips. I can feel her whenever I close my eyes. Was I overstepping? Would I be overstepping again? She’s obviously busy. Is this really the best moment to make my move?

Timing is a mystery.

Ah, she’s coming upstairs. She moves slowly, almost contemplatively. I rest my head on the wall and watch clouds flowing past the moon outside my window. She walked past my door. No, that’s not quite right. She walked to my door, paused, and continued down the corridor. Yes, that’s better. Somehow this moment, this pause, is more intimate than anything else I’ve ever shared with her.

I can’t stop thinking about the fact that our rooms are on the same floor. If I tear down all these walls between us, would this become a little easier?

I’m still the king of calmness, though it’s not like there’s anyone here to witness this incredible achievement. James and Albus and Lily are all back at school. Harry’s too busy. Ginny’s too occupied with her magazine career and strengthening her bond with Harry, as if three kids are not enough. She visits him almost everyday. At least that’s the impression I get since whenever I go to the Auror Office to chat with Harry for a bit she’s always there.

She’s here today. He’s happy about that, I can tell.

I chuckled. Harry gives me a confused look.

“Nothing.” I said, “Just thought of someone and their problem with happy endings.”

“Who’d have problems with happy endings?” Ginny asked absently.

“Realists?” Harry suggested.

“Sounds bitter to me,” Ginny teased him.

I can’t help but get defensive. “Well you got your happy ending years ago, but not everyone has your luck.”

Ginny snorted. “People don’t need luck to find their happy endings. They need to fight for it like hell.”

I stood up and turned to leave. “I think I know one person or two who fought as hard as you that never got their happy endings. Like my parents.” I raised a hand as a goodbye. “See you later, Harry.”

I walked to the Minister’s Office. Time for the weekly briefing from all departments. Our Department Head recently developed an illness that made him unfit for this routine. The symptom includes cursing verbally, hexing, and attacking physically, all towards the Minister. Not good at all. No one knows what happened. Might be related to the rumour that his daughter loves politics, but loves politicians more. I don’t even want to know. You’d think after so many years leading the Department of International Magic Cooperation, he could be more… diplomatic about it.

Am I angry? Nah. I admit that I could’ve backed off for a bit in Harry’s office, but for a split second I decided not to.

Maybe that’s because deep in my heart I know that someday I need to stand up to them for a more serious matter. Hermione. I don’t know the origin of my confidence. I just know that there’s something there even when she has given me zero reason to believe it. How arrogant is that? I’m preparing to fight for her before anyone mentions a duel. Before the reason for a duel happens, really. At this point, I don’t know what’s making me more excited - the possibility of her becoming something more than a friend to me, or the prospect of wreaking havoc?

I don’t want myself to sound like a cheesy romantic novel, but the wolf in me is pacing.

Oh my fucking Merlin’s in-laws, scratch that. That’s worse than I expected.

“And the DIMC? Any issues you want to address this week, Mr. Lupin?” The Undersecretary asked.

“Not really,” I responded. Since the instruction for me is simply “kill him off Teddy when you get the chance”, I guess there’s nothing especially important happened. “The Norwegian Diplomatic Department still refuses to have a nice and long talk about the dragon blood import clause, despite our efforts. We’re prepared to explore other options from Russia or Finland. The proposal will be submitted to the Minister within one week.”

“Very well. Have a nice weekend, gentlemen.” The Minister dismissed us.

Ms. Lou from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes seems extremely displeased, but she didn’t say anything until we’re all outside the Minister’s Office.

“He wouldn’t forget the ‘Ladies’ there if I’m representing the DMLE,” she said acidly.

“You, darling?” Oliver Wood laughed, “You won’t survive DMLE for one week, believe me.”

“You’re saying a woman wouldn’t qualify for law enforcement?” Her voice got a little shrill.

“Of course not!” he said, “But you have to be extra intelligent and ruthless to be there. I’ve only known one or two witches who can do it without years of struggle.”

“Oh, like who?”

“Hermione Granger, for one,” he said. I adjusted my steps to fall behind them discreetly. “That girl could’ve become the Minister if only she stayed.”

“The Golden Girl, huh? I heard she’s back?” Ms. Lou asked, the wisp of hostility gone.

“Yep. I wonder why, though. I hope she’ll come work in the Ministry. It’ll be nice to have someone with that sharp a mind as a colleague.”

“Even if she’s back she won’t be working in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Wood.”

“Hard to say. She’s always got an eye for Quidditch players.”

Interesting.

“Why did she leave anyway? She had a future here, didn’t she? War heroine and all that.”

He shrugged. “Do I look like a gossip expert?”

She laughed. “I bet you’d know all about it if she played Quidditch.”

He turned back suddenly, “Ain’t Hermione living in your place, Teddy?”

“Harry’s house, yes.” I nodded absently as if I wasn’t listening in their conversation just moments ago.

“Tell her Oliver Wood said hi, alright? And if she wants to try her out-of-the-world organisational skill in my department, I’ll be so grateful.”

I highly doubt Hermione will be willing to become a secretary, but I said okay anyway.

It’s not like I know what she’s planning to do.

Or rather, what she’s been doing.

It must be over a month before I saw her again. It was two o’clock in the morning. I was planning to get a drink from kitchen because I couldn’t sleep, and imagining her smile doesn’t help. Reading the dullest report doesn’t help. Jerking off doesn’t help, either. I was on the top of stairs when I heard someone talking quietly in the kitchen.

“You can’t expect me to let you do this alone,” Harry said.

“It’s no big deal, Harry.” That’s Hermione.

“How is that not a big deal? It’s dangerous.”

“You say that like it means anything.”

“What, dangerous? Of course it means something, Hermione. I don’t want to lose you again. Ron doesn’t want to lose you again. He’s with me on this, you know.”

“Of course he’s with you. He’s always with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I’m just so tired.”

“Take an assistant. Take an Auror with you. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I don’t want to, Harry. I have to build trust with them and that’s just so damn much work.”

“Why can’t you just trust them first until they give you a reason not to?”

“Because trust-worthy people are so rare, Harry.”

“I trust my men.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sounds incredibly sad, “I’m sure your men are loyal to you.”

Silence.

“Are you saying the loyalty to me doesn’t necessarily equal to the loyalty to you?”

“Are you angry?”

“No.” He paused for a bit. “No. I think I understand.”

“It was good, wasn’t it? Our old days in school.”

“Yeah.” There’s smile in his voice. “So dark and dangerous, but you two were always there.”

“We’re never going back, Harry. You know the moment my blind loyalty to you ended.”

“I know.”

I walked down the stairs softly and sat down on the last step. There’s flickering light filtered out under the kitchen door. I imagined them, two best friends, sitting on the opposite sides of a table, years and years between them like a river.

“So you know after that every time I stand with you, I make that choice consciously all over again?”

“Oh.”

“I’m with you, Harry. I made that choice before I came back. I make that choice everyday here. I’m not doing this for old time’s sake. I’m doing this because I choose to. You can trust me.”

“I know.”

“I wish she knew that, too, years ago.”

“Hermione - ”

“I know. I know. Merlin almighty I’m not starting that again.”

“You just started it.”

“I’m sorry. Okay? Just forget it.”

“I never asked you to leave! She never asked you to leave! You left me when it was so bloody hard to cope so you don’t get to come here and accuse the person who got me through the funerals and heartbreaks!”

For a long while she didn’t say anything.

And then I heard her sigh.

“I don’t want an Auror with me because I’m an independent consultant. I will be making my own decisions, which you may or may not agree with. I’d rather not kill my assistant every time that happens just so he wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

“I would never spy on you - ”

“Oh you would, Harry, you definitely would. Twenty years ago you wouldn’t, but we’re here and this is now. If you don’t spy on me, you are not a competent Head Auror. I’m just sorry that I can’t make it easy on you. I really do.” The scratching sound of a chair against the floorboard. “I will find an assistant from independent resources, though. I’ll give you that.” A kiss on the cheek. “Good night. Love you.”

“Love you.”

I didn’t move. I had plenty of time to creep back up the stairs and into my room, but I didn’t move. I was still processing all the things I’ve heard. So many questions without answers. So many questions that I’m not sure I want answers for.

She didn’t see me until she’s directly in front of me. She didn’t jump or yelp. She just paused for a bit, and proceeded to walk past me.

My left hand circled her left ankle at the last moment.

She didn’t say anything.

“Do you need an assistant?”

“Yes.”

“May I apply?”

“Teddy - ”

“May I?” I asked again, for the first time looked up to her face. She looked calm, composed, and determined.

“No.” Not one ounce of apology behind the word. This woman can be admirably hard and cold when she wants to.

Thankfully I can feel her pulse, which might be the only thing that’s keeping me sane. Her quickening, mad, erratic pulse. In my palm. Like a dying butterfly struggling for life.

My sign. My revelation. My reason for a war.

#Teddy Lupin #Hermione Granger #fairestoftherare #hprarepairnet #Teddy Lupin×Hermione Granger #I... have nothing to say #happy 2017?

15 notes · View notes

espejonight28738 · 7 years ago

Text

Hetalia Secret Santa Present

For @kirani56

This is from the Secret Santa organized by @i-would-sell-my-soul-to-hussie

Here is your America-centered one-shot :D

I hope it's not too OoC or too little Alfred-centric, I'm not very familiar with the character. Also, sorry if there is any mistake, english isn't my native language and all. But I really hope you like it :3

Merry Christmas!

Michelle- Seychelles

Matthias- Denmark

Sigurd- Norway

Erikur- Iceland

Ned- Netherlands

Emma- Belgium

Louis- Luxembourg

"So," he started asking when he was half his third beer in, "what are you doing on christmas?" Alfred usually spent this holidays with Matthew, Francis and Arthur. Sometimes Michelle would join too, but this time was different. Arthur lost a bet and he would have to spend christmas with his brothers. Francis had a meeting with his boss the next day so he would stay at home, and Matthew said he would join him. So that left the american nation by himself this holidays. "I think Ludwig will go and stay with Italy, and I don't really feel like being the third wheel, so I'll stay with Roderich and Elizabetha", responded Gilbert, who was far too drunk to do a joke about his brother and the minor of the Italys. "And the other Italy? The grumpy one" asked Matthias, looking the beer with desire. Apperently he had made a bet with the swedish nation about him being sobber until christmas. "Lovino is staying with Antonio. I think Ned, Emma and Louis are staying there too." "Yeah, I think I heard Mexico saying Antonio tried to invite him and the rest of the latinos too, but none of them were in the mood to "escuchar al viejo borracho echar de menos sus días de imperio hasta en la jodida navidad", or something like that." Alfred added. We all laugh at that, Antonio was a really funny drunk, he would pass from crying for his glory age to dancing the macarena in about a minute or less. "I'll take you're celebrating with the nordics, Finland do is Santa after all" was Gilbert guess about Matthias' plans. "Of course! This year is tourn to celebrate in Erikur's house, and he was so cute trying to persuade Sigurd and I not to find excuses to end up staying more than two months with him this time," a smile covered his face. "We'll do it anyway, and when Berwald told that deep inside Erikur loves being bebied by Norge and I he turned red and started babbling and look so freaking adorable. Tino took a photo, I swear I'm framing it soon." Gilbert started laughing again and Alfred shook his head with a smile. Matthias actittud towards his family, and specially towards the icelandic and norwegian nations, will never stop to amuse them. A few beers, or in Matthias case just water, later, each of them went back to their home. Alfred have had the hope that after this reunion with his friends, he would feel happier, but he didn't. In the last years, he started to feel very lonely, even though he would never admite it. And now, a few days away from spending his first christmas alone in more than two centuries, the feeling was worst than ever. Of course, he could just join Matthew and Francis, or even Arthur and his brothers. There was even a chance he coud ask the latinoamericans to go to their celebration and the would say yes. But it someway felt wrong. Being with his brother and Francis without Arthur, being with the british nations without his brother. Or being with none of them at all. Maybe he was just too accostumed to his traditions, or maybe it was something else. The increasing feeling of solitude. His country have made mistakes, his own people weren't as happy as they used to. So many disagreements with other countries, he has problems with looking some of them at the eye after what his leaders have said and done. It isn't his fault, he knows that. And he knows nobody blame him. They don't have power now, not like they had centuries ago. In a time Alfred wasn't his own country yet. Gilbert and Matthias talk about that. Gilbert tell how he was the only one Federick the Great would completely trust, and sometimes he commended complete armys by his kings side. Matthias will talk about doing diplomacy by themself, to the grade of him chosing the wars he wanted to fight. But Alfred never proved that, he has always been an advicer, ready to be ignored. Some times they would ask for his opinion, but most time the would just have him hear endless proposes that will be done even if he like them or not.

That new feeling didn't leave him for days. When christmas finally arrive, he calls everyone to wish them happines, and they sounded all so happy. Matthew told him how Michelle. appeared at them door with presents and, because of greeting her, they almost burn dinner. Arthur said that his brother organized the biggest party he have been since the '60. "It seems I'm not too old for this shit yet" were his words over the phone. Gilbert said Roderich did a dessert almost as awesome as him. And he manage to behave enough for Elizabetha to not bring out her pan. Matthias said something about winning a bet and Berwald finally calling him storebror, and about Finland being the best Santa ever. Alfred spent Christmas with his people, and that should have been enough. That was almost enough. But almost is not enough, and now Alfred prepared himself for being alone one the New Year too. Usually, he would go to the Empire State, but he didn't feel like it. He wanted to just stay at home and prepare for calling everyone in his time zone. He had tried to call his family in their respective new year, but none of them answere the phone. He asumed they just went out to party, so when few minutes before midnight someone knock on his door, he didn't knew what to think And he opened the door. Matthew was there with some take-out dinner in hand, Arthur had a few bottles of champagne, and Francis was already hugging him. The horrible feeling of loneliness disappeared. Because he knew that it didn't matter what was going to happpen, or how many fight they had, they were a family. And for Alfred, that was enough.

#hetalia #aph america #awesome trio #hetalia secret santa #aph prussia #aph denmark #face family #aph france #aph england #aph canada

16 notes · View notes

tarzaposts · 7 years ago

Text

Leadership & Respect with Animals

I got this brain storm, and though I’d write about it too...

Since I’ve had all kinds of animals all my life..surely I’ve trained them all.

I have had dogs, parrots, parakeets, cats, guinea pigs, fishes, and the main thing with animals are..you need to talk their language, all animals learn by energy and pressure., different motions and ques. You just need to know HOW!

When I was under 20 I moved out to U.S, I’ve always felt more to be American than Finnish..I felt so at home there than.

I started out as an Au pair..oh, boy..totally not my thing..the family I stayed at had 5 parrots, 1 doberman and 2 kids that were so spoiled brats that .. I could not handle that kind of attitude... money talked..bullshit walked..sorry...

oh..boy..well, surely you can imagine how it turned out.. :)

Yes I found myself spending time, by training the Blue and Yellow Macaw..we fell totally in love..it came walking to my room in the mornings, knocked on the door and climbed up to my bed and started to kiss my face..nibble at my ear rings that got all twisted .. he was so funny..and he came everywhere I went, we drove to the pet store by car and got its feed...etc,..he came by the pool when I was outside... it was my buddy, and we totally understood each other..

Well, macaws usually have 1 owner and that’s it, either they like women or men..hardly both..since it’s hard to know what sex they are you need to make an DNA test..but ., they surely choose the owner themselves.

They are like a 4 y kid that wants all your attention and does all kinds of things to get it.. if not they they do a lot of harm, destroy furniture or what ever they can get their beak to, and it they are depressed..they pull out their feathers..yes, I have seen it too..poor things

People don’t understand the responsibility that comes along with an parrot/ animals, it needs care taking 24/7, My macaw had a room of it’s own :)

well back to my point...

Well, as.the other parrots were jealous at the attention it got from me and they tried to mingle along, but the macaw saw it differently.. there was a Aratinga solstitialis, that kept screaming all the time..it has a terrible noisy scream..and it was mean..tried to bite every time it got close to you.., it had this thing going one that it wanted to be close to you, but not petted..so I left it surely alone. Also Amazona oratrix, don’t recall which amazon it was ..and a Psittacus erithacus ..since its a long time ago don’t remember that clear.

Of course there was this doberman..well guess who was taking it out and trained it as well...it comes naturally to me , I understand and love animals to the bits..they hear me and we communicate with understanding.

All my parrots and parakeets was free in my house, they sat on my shoulder, went outside for a car drive, store etc..if I said them to go to bed, they went to their cage and closed the door behind them..yes..believe they did it ...and more..

I remember 1 time I had my Baby , the name of the Parakeet with me to a grocery store when I lived in Florida..this customer service lady came to me and sais, “Mam, you have a beautiful parrot, but sorry you cannot have it in here..well surely at that time my Baby, was jumping all over the water melons ha haaa.. and I totally agreed than..oh well one funny story..of many more..

It’s all normal to me, I see an animal..I communicate..

I’ve had a doberman here in Finland as well, but not my breed, I have had Cavalier King Charles spaniels, Chinese crest and now also 2 puppies that I train now....

I am so thrilled that I can help people, with animals

I just had a client that had a Chinese crest with fear issues, it had bit twice the neighbor and its son, it was on its way to put down, “‘cause of bad behavior.”

I call it misunderstanding..dogs and horses they all need an SAFE but FIRM Leader!

Happy Ending

We’ll I trained that dog, but mainly the whole family, as they are the owners..the dogs needed 2-3 times of my time and coaching the family to be a leader. All problems cleared and they are a happy family with a dog that has an perfect happy personality as a Chinese crests should have..sorry to say, but this breed is very sensitive and have a lot of misbehaving IF NOT understood!!! Easily turns into fear and aggressive attitudes if not safe.

Here are my precious some of them that I had photos of..since there was NOOO Digital cameras at that time..heres only a few of my darlings..

I used to work with an magician, and there I got my Blue and Yellow macaw.., the other Macaw belov is from the U.S times..

Enjoy..this is just a short inside story of many many more...

This is MY beloved LOUKI that I had in the U.s he slept under covers in my bed with me, it was SO SMART..he was stolen when I left back to Finland and attacked this one guy who came to our apartment when I was away... also BABY that was a parokeet like the one sitting with my other balck cavaljier nose to nose :)

1 note · View note

philiprolz · 7 years ago

Photo

CHOOSE YOUR FRANCHISE By Philip Rolz Nov 7, 2017

I was lucky enough to go to a couple of Orlando Magic games back in the 90′s and 2000′s and fell in love. But living almost 2,000 miles away from the nearest NBA city made it hard for me to really root for a team, a city, a franchise. But like a drunken, low self esteem college girl with daddy issues I gave myself to the first one that wooed me... a Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway led expansion team in Florida. I’ve stuck with them ever since.

But it got me thinking, how do you choose a team? Are some teams more likely to be a fan favorite than others? What’s their fan-ability? Before I make my case I gotta tell you what I took into consideration making this list: how cool or uncool the city is, how good-looking their uniforms are, GM decisions over the years, iconic players, fan base, the culture of the organization, overall success or lack there of, team history. OK, here’s my list:

Atlanta Hawks

You can’t NOT love a place people refer to as “The dirty south”, I mean it sounds fun and rappers made it cool to root for Atlanta based teams (specially the Hawks and Falcons).

Dominique Wilkins and Spud Webb were the first real iconic players that put the Hawks on the map with their amazing athletic abilities. The rivalry with Jordan and the Bulls was real (both in real games and in dunk contests at All-Star Weekends) and people noticed them. They were fun to watch.

Ever since the “Dominique era” the franchise has been kind of a letdown though. Always underachieving and kinda disappearing in the clutch. 2014-2015 was a clear example of a roster that made a lot of noise but crapped their pants when it got real in the playoffs.

Currently they’re probably one on the top teams looking to tank this season to get a franchise defining rookie in this apparent “loaded” draft, so the Hawks aren’t really a team you root for this year but they have been fun to watch largely in part of high flying young players like John Collins and Taurean Prince.

Fan-ability: B-

Boston Celtics

The Celtics are one of the most successful franchises in sports. Their fan base is extremely loyal, somewhat violent and friggin’ loud. They might be responsible for starting the whole “superteams” trend some seem to hate, but when it comes down to it, it’s just good management and recruiting. Then there’s the legendary Celtic players from oldies Bill Russell and Larry Bird to not so oldies Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce. These guys are deified by the hardcore Boston fans and man have they come through with epic playoff performances and hard nosed triumphs. Nowadays they seem to expect a LOT from the young roster GM Danny Ainge put together majestically and guess what? They are they fun to watch. Kyrie Irving has the most insane handles in the league and I haven’t seen a small guard finish as efficiently in the paint since Tony Parker’s best days. The Celtics are also very similar to the Spurs when it comes to drafting well which is a big thing for fans looking for franchises to root for when there’s youth and potential. Will Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown be the NBA’s next studs? Will Markelle Fultz be a complete bust? (therefore making the Celtics even smarter) The Celtics are NBA Elite and that makes them either really loved or really hated. Fan-ability: B+

Brooklyn Nets

Brooklyn, New York. Home of everything cool in the world, right? Wrong! The Brooklyn Nets seem to be a forced fed team (notice the cheesy SI cover above) completely divorced with the whole swagger of this New York borough. Nobody wants to be associated with failure, and the Nets have been failures in so many ways during the last years it’s embarrassing. They basically gave away all their draft picks, they over-hyped a Deron Williams that was arguably one of the biggest free agent busts of all time. Their iconic players? Dr J? Jason Kidd? Kerry Kittles (just kidding)? Kinda feels weird picking guys who did play for the Nets, just not the Brooklyn Nets. I feel bad for them though, playing in one of the biggest markets in the country and not being known for enticing big name free agents, not even with Jay-Z helping them out for a little while. I’m pretty certain HOVA wanted out before the stink rubbed off on him. They haven’t drafted well, they’re not fun to watch, they’ve become synonymous with losing. The only good thing they have going for them is the fact that Brooklyn is a tourist destination and there’s a chance some tourist will buy a Nets ticket before a Knicks ticket.

Fan-ability: D+

Charlotte Hornets

Remember those big flashy Starter Jackets with the Charlotte Hornets logo plastered all over them? Those were the days! The Hornets used to be good and/or fun. An Alonzo Mourning team alongside Larry “Grandmama” Johnson, Muggsy Bogues and Steph Curry’s dad (who apparently could shoot very well, too) was a fun thing to watch.

Several years later it all went straight to hell with the Bobcats. Let’s face it, when you think of the Bobcats you think of a bunch of scrubs and Adam Morrison. Good God!

Now they’re back to being the Hornets, although, they’re still not that fun. They don’t have Zo they have Dwight Howard, one of the least likeable players out there. They don’t have LJ, they have Frank Kaminsky (crickets chirping). They don’t have Muggsy they have Kemba Walker... ok that’s better. And instead of Dell Curry they have a rookie who I’m really rooting for: Malik Monk.

They’re ok. They’re not super exciting but they have some star power. Hopefully this year the young guards can do some damage down the stretch and maybe be a sneaky team in the playoffs.

Fan-ability: B+

Chicago Bulls

You think Bulls, you think MJ, his Airness, the G.O.A.T.

For younger fans you think D.Rose being drafted by his hometown team and making them a force to be reckoned with in the East and dethroning the King with a 2010-2011 MVP award.

But it’s 2017 now. The face of the franchise is a blonde kid from Finland named Lauri Markkanen and the face of Nikola Mirotic was obliterated by fellow teammate Bobby Portis. Well maybe not obliterated, but I hear it was a heck of a knockout.

It really doesn’t matter how bad GM Gar Foreman and owner Jerry Reinsdorf have been, because what Michael Jordan did for the NBA he did for this NBA franchise as well. Fans crave for the second coming of Michael and until that day comes (I’m pretty sure it’ll never happen) the first thing you’ll think of when you see a red Bulls jersey is #23.

Fan-ability: A-

Cleveland Cavaliers

I’ve never been to Cleveland. I don’t think I’ll ever go there. Not really a bucket list destination. But I have to admit, LeBron James made Cleveland relevant since the day he was drafted by his hometown team. He was the chosen one entering the league and did not disappoint. He carried a really weak team to an NBA Finals versus a really strong San Antonio Spurs team (and lost). Took his talents to South Beach making everybody in the league feel sorry for the Cavs. As soon as he ditched Miami to go back to “The Land” they were legit once more. LBJ is no MJ however. Some people seem to dislike his demeanor, question his clutch gene and doubt his leadership. He is a little whiny sometimes. Yet no one has denied that LeBron is still the best player on the planet and has been for the better part of his career. I mean it feel like its been 30 straight NBA Finals for him. He’s great. He made Cleveland great. Even if he leaves this upcoming season, Cleveland should be forever grateful for everything King James has done. And because people enjoy experiencing greatness the Cavaliers are a fan favorite. (Me personally, not really a fan) Fan-ability: A

Dallas Mavericks

A lanky slow-ish blonde forward from Würzburg, Germany made the Dallas Mavericks NBA champions against, non other than, the chosen one (or as Skip Bayless likes to call him “the frozen one”). But aside from being lany, kinda slow and uh... blonde, Dirk Nowitzki is one of the top 20 greatest players of all time, one of my personal favorite players and proud owner of one of the sweetest fade away jumpers ever. 2010-2011 was the Mavericks championship season and man was it a well constructed team that no matter if you love or hate outspoken owner Mark Cuban, you gotta hand it to him. Combining veteran leaders like Jason Kidd and Jason Terry with defensive anchor Tyson Chandler and freaks of nature like Shawn Marion was the recipe for success under the brilliant mind of one of the most underrated coaches, Rick Carlisle. You felt glad they were champions. It wasn’t a “super team” but it was really really good and they were underdogs against a Miami team that promised not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, etc. championships. After the ‘chip they remained relevant until maybe last season. Dirk is rapidly aging and this really seems like it’s gonna be his last season. To be honest I’ve stopped watching Mavericks games because this is not the Dirk I want to remember. I do watch a lot of highlights though, mostly because of rookie Dennis Smith, Jr. Holy cow! That kid looks like he was made with the same stuff Russell Westbrook was made from. DSJr is another rookie I’m really rooting for, specially because he’s in great hands with old man Dirk to guide him and Rick Carlisle to coach him and get the best out of him. It’s a winning franchise in a hip warm weather city, with a wild celebrity owner, an iconic international player and champion, with a lot of young talent. Nuff said. Fan-ability: A-

Denver Nuggets

I think the Nuggets’ greatest moment in franchise history was the improbable win against the #1 seeded Sonics in 1994. Big whoop. There were other highlights in franchise history like drafing Melo (who later demanded a trade outta there). They did have Allen Iverson on their team, but then they traded him to Detroit because he wasn’t the 76ers Allen Iverson of old. And this is the part where I want to talk about Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf. He was a muslim player (duh!) and was unbelievably good. But he was a muslim. Many compare his game to Steph Curry’s. But he was a muslim. He had crazy handles, the highest basketball IQ and one sweet jumpshot. But he was a muslim, and he started the whole Colin Kaepernick thing where he protested during anthems. Oh boy. Can you imagine a guy named Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf protesting in front of thousands of proud americans back in the 90′s? Yeah, that was the end of that. It’s really sad to wonder how good he would’ve been. At least Ice Cube gave him a shot in the BIG3. Anyway, back to the Denver Nuggets franchise comprised of young exciting talent but not a clear cut superstar. Nikola Jokic is really entertaining but is enough to make the Nuggets relevant? Millsap just joined them, but let’s face it he’s a really good boring player. Garry Harris was supposed to have a breakout year and it’s still early but he’s been a little too quiet for my taste. Jamal Murray, Emmanuel Mudiay seem a long way from being relevant and Kenneth Faried hasn’t been traded after 1,864,227 times it’s been rumored. The biggest indicator the Nuggets are in trouble is the fact that their own fans don’t show up as they finished last in attendance last season. Yikes! Fan-ability: F

Detroit Pistons

Personally I can’t really talk about the Bad Boy Pistons from the 80′s because I didn’t really get into the NBA until a little later. But from what I’ve heard and read, I really dig it. An uber-defensive team that wasn’t scared of anything or anyone. Hard nosed defenders, clutch shooting, trash talking and an iconic coach kinda sound like... hey! The 2004 champion Pistons! The comparison just goes to show that a culture within a franchise can go a long way. The 2004 Pistons were tough, smart and had the winning mentality that I’m sure legendary coach Larry Brown implemented in the locker room. Big Ben was scary big even though he wasn’t as tall as your traditional center. ‘Sheed was a bad man with a sick jumper and a f*ck you attitude. Rip and Chauncey were the smart and offensively skilled guard combo. Okur, Tayshaun and McDyess played their roles just right. To this day I can’t believe they beat Kobe, Shaq and another “superteam”. The Pistons of 2017 however lack some of that old school attitude. It’s well coached (shout out to Stan Van G) but no very well managed (sorry Stan Van G). Drummond is a huge piece of human who can block shots, dunk over anyone and has kind of improved the free throw issues of the past. Reggie Jackson seems to be a conflictive dude lacking the leadership of a Chauncey Billups. Tobias Harris who’s good but would’ve been better in a different era. Today’s NBA doesn’t really work for a guy like him. It’s not a roster you can nip and tuck and turn into a legitimate force in the NBA, to me it feels like it’s either this group of guys to maybe get past the first round of the playoffs or blow it all up and tank away to get younger and better. Can we send Avery Bradley to the Celtics, please? Overall, it’s a city with a lot of heart and a franchise with a lot of history but right now who knows what they are? Fan-ability: B-

Golden State Warriors

My first memory of the Golden State Warriors is Chris Mullin’s hair and short shorts. Tim Hardaway’s crossovers. Latrell Sprewell’s angry two handed dunks (also angry head coach chokings) and an underachieving Chris Webber. But that’s all in the past. Even the good stuff like the Baron Davis and Stephen Jackson Warriors that made a lot of noise in the 2006 playoffs. That’s all irrelevant now because things changed in the bay area. Mark Jackson started coaching a young group of really promising guys and started a style of play that later Steve Kerr, who replaced him as head coach, perfected and made history. I don’t need to talk about how good Steph Curry is and how he revolutionized the game or how good of a shooter/defender/heat check guy Klay is. Or how Draymond is the new villain and best defender in the NBA or how Durant made this team virtually invincible... because everybody knows it. The only thing that worried me was if I would ever get bored of this team; short answer: NO. Again, people like greatness and the bar set by these basketball juggernauts is so high it’s become ridiculous. People call them “bandwagon fans” but it’s really just a matter of wanting to feel part of something as special as this group of future hall of famers... that and they’re totally bandwagon fans. Bandwagon fan-bility: A+

Houston Rockets

Probably not gonna be on the same page as a lot of people here but I’ve always found Rockets players kind of douchey. Maybe not the championship Rockets Olajuwon, Drexler, Horry or Cassell. More like Steve Francis, the worst version of Dwight Howard, and now James Harden AND Chris Paul. Yes, I said it. James Harden is a douchebag. He gets a lot of points, has become an elite point guard but his game isn’t really that exciting... and he’s a whiny flopper.

They have a lot of history and a bunch of iconic players but ever since the championship years in the mid 90′s we haven’t gotten a dominant conference shifting team. Today’s roster is a poor man’s Golden State Warriors and they’ll eventually find out (the hard way) that in a 7 game series you won’t outshoot or outscore the Dubs. OK, I’ve really bashed the Rockets here, but don’t get me wrong I have to give credit where credit is due: James Harden is an MVP caliber player and Chris Paul is the point God but nobody likes ‘em. Fan-ability: C

Indiana Pacers

Back in the day the Pacers of Reggie Miller, Mark Jackson, Rik Smits, Derrick McKey and Antonio & Dale Davis were for real. They had shooting, rebounding, star power, coaching ...they had it all! It’s a shame that Michael Jordan and the Kobe/Shaq combo never let Reggie and the Pacers win a championship. A decade later the Pacers found themselves with a very strong group of talented players that made LeBron and the Heatles a little nervous. Paul George the emerging superstar along Lance Stephenson, Roy Hibbert and company were battling LeBron down to the last second but eventually falling short. Paul George broke his leg got better and basically told everyone in Indiana to go screw themselves because he would leave them for his hometown Lakers. Now he’s in OKC as a rental and Indiana has highly motivated Victor Oladipo (fan favorite in Indiana) Arvydas Sabonis’ son and what’s left of Lance Stephenson. They should be tanking this year but they’re not in large part because of phenom Myles Turner and a rejuvenated Thad Young. So, what are they? Good? Mediocre? Bad? At this point, we don’t really know. It’s a small market team with no real superstar anymore and a lot of young talent that could either shine or implode. Fan-ability: D

L.A. Clippers

CP3 leaving means the Clippers are now terrible, right? Nope. Point Blake is for real, DeAndre looks like he’s having fun again and all the role players seem engaged. Oh! And this guy with the scruffy beard is their 30 year old rookie point guard who’s soooo fun to watch. What about the history of the franchise? Well, it’s no pretty. The Clippers were synonymous with failure for a long time. They were terrible at attracting free agents, terrible at drafting (i.e. Michael Olowakandi) until they put together what would become Lob City. It was fun but not very successful. Los Angeles is sexy and cool but you don’t really think Clippers, you think Lakers, even when the Clippers have clearly been the better basketball team for the last 3 or 4 years now. With the Lakers making a comeback it’s becoming more obvious that the the Clippers should just move north and become the beloved Seattle Sonics. Fan-ability: C+

L.A. Lakers

Showtime is back in L.A.! Not particularly because of their style of play but because of all the buzz the young players have caused and the circus surrounding Lonzo Ball, who in his first month playing in the NBA looks... different from what Lavar promised. It’s okay, nobody really expected Lonzo to be better than LeBron, Steph and God in his first games. The bottom line is Lonzo not bad and could become really good! Ingram is looking pretty good (just needs an extra 50 lbs) and I’m predicting he could become a Greek Freak type of superstar. But enough about the Baby Lakers, who we know are gonna be alright eventually, let’s talk about the incredibly successful franchise throughout the years. Ugh! Can’t believe I just said something nice about the Lakers. Wilt Chamberlain, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Magic Johnson, Shaquille O’Neal and of course Kobe Bryant are one of the biggest names in the history of the league and they’re all Lakers (shout out to Nick Van Exel, one of my favorite players ever). I was blessed to witness the early 2000′s reign of Shaq and Kobe (even though I kept thinking what would’ve happened if Shaq stayed in Orlando) and their epic battles with the Spurs. Let’s face it, the Lakers are the Yankees of basketball. People love the city of Los Angeles and they root for what the Lakers were and what they could eventually become once again. Fan-ability: A+

Memphis Grizzlies

They’ve come a long way from those Vancouver days when their best player was Bryant “Big Country” Reeves. They established a culture of hard work reminiscent of the city they play for. They created “Grit and Grind” and should be very proud of it. The history of the franchise is a little iffy since they were really bad for a really long time (normal for an expansion team in small markets). Marc Gasol, Mike Conley, Tony Allen and Z-Bo put the league on notice and transformed a joke of a franchise to a legitimate contender. The roster has been almost completely revamped but Gasol and Conley are keeping the “Grit and Grind” very much alive. For how long? Only time will tell (hopefully as long as possible). Fan-ability: C+

Miami Heat

Fun fact: Did you know the Miami Heat won a championship without LeBron James? Yup! Here’s another one for you: Did you know the Miami Heat and the New York Knicks hated each other and had a bunch of epic playoff battles back in the 90′s and early 2000′s? Hell yeah! My point is Miami has had a lot history before the LeBron and Heatles “superteam” nonsense. Pat Riley is largely responsible for all of it. And this post LeBron phase hasn’t been as terrible as you’d expect because this well oiled machine of a franchise keeps drafting, signing and getting all the right pieces to be contenders in a very weak Eastern Conference. They’re still a couple of moves away from being the top dogs so don’t be surprised if they make some moves during this season or once the season is over. The city of Miami is fun and sexy and so are the Heat fans. As long as Pat Riley is there they’re gonna be relevant and in the conversation. Fan-ability: B+

New Orleans Pelicans

As Tony Montana famously once said: “Manny, look at the pelican fly. Come on, pelican!” refering to some flamingos he was watching on TV. I kind of feel that way when I’m watching these guys play... I think I’m watching two of the best big men in the game along with some decent role players but I’m really just watching a franchise with no idea of what they’ll do when they inevitably lose both their big men (AD & Boogie) and return to being bad (worse). My second thing about this franchise: how are we supposed to root for a team called the Pelicans?! Wait... their arena is called the “Smoothie King Center”? OK, I’m done.

Weird to not root for a team that has 2 of the top 15 players in the league. Fan-ability: F

New York Knicks

New York IS basketball. When you walk around this magnificent city you breathe basketball. Some of the best street ballers are New Yorkers. Yet, the Knicks haven’t been as great as Knicks fan expect them to be (not in the last 3 or 4 seasons anyway). Owner James Dolan is not exactly a fan favorite, Phil Jackson left without accomplishing what he was hired to accomplish, Charles Oakley has been banned from MSG (yes, the former Knicks legend) and the Melo-drama of last year(s) was quite frankly very annoying. So yeah, it’s been pretty brutal. It’s seems like a very long time because their last championship was in 1973 but there have been some really interesting, talented and semi-successful Knicks teams since Bernard King’s epic finals performance. One of the most sought after rookies landed in MSG and had a really good career (Patrick Ewing) and the aforementioned Charles Oakley along with John Starks, Anthony Mason and Doug Christie among others were talented, feisty, tough and relentless enough to reach the finals against a really loaded Rockets team. Then there’s Van Gundy’s squad with Ewing, Allan Houston, Latrell Sprewell, Larry Johnson and Marcus Camby who played the role of the underdog from day 1 until they reached the finals which they once again lost, this time against a dynastic Spurs. As of today the Knicks, minus Carmelo Anthony, have been quite surprising and own of the most precious assets in basketball: a unicorn. Kristaps Porzingis has won the heart of every single Knicks fan because of the dog in him, something very important to a city that values hard work. His stellar numbers and the potential of becoming a very unique type of player (hence the nickname “unicorn”) might be that x-factor that brings the championship back to the mecca. All they have to do is be patient, avoid the drama (hard to do with the New York media) and draft well... let’s hope Frankie Smokes is the perfect compliment to KP’s amazing talent. Oh, and please pray to the basketball gods... no injuries, please! Fan-ability: A-

Oklahoma City Thunder

You know what helps building a fan base when your not the coolest city in the world? Superstars! Oklahoma City has had some of the biggest names in the NBA play for them: Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook, James Harden and Serge Ibaka. More unbelievable? They played together! Just goes to show what a great GM (Sam Presti) and great scouts will do to a franchise. Even with all these amazing atheletes on their team they really never got to win it all. KD and Russ were an unbelievable duo but many wondered if they didn’t really compliment eachother... maybe KD needed more of a playmaker, maybe Russ needed more of a role player and shine on his own. Well KD left to join the ridiculously talented Dubs (and won the title) and Russ won the MVP averaging a triple double. Now they have even more star power adding hoodie Melo and Paul George to the mix and hoping this trio will knock down the reign of the all mighty Warriors (highly unlikely). Superstars aside, OKC really has had an uphill battle developing a fan base in such a small market and have done so beautifully. Fan-ability: B+

Orlando Magic

Whoa! This is hard for me. I’m probably gonna bash the franchise I first loved (and still do for some strange reason). My best memories as a kid are in Orlando when me and my whole family went to Disney World, Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure, so I’m a little bias. Imagine a kid from Guatemala city going to a basketball game in a jam packed arena where Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway put on a show. Done deal! I’m a Magic fan for life. Orlando somehow managed to lose Shaq by lowballing him in an almost offensive way comparing him to other players in the league and criticizing his rebounding and defense in an attempt to “negotiate” a deal that wouldn’t mean breaking the bank for Shaq. But guess what? For Shaq, you DO break the bank and by not doing so they broke the heart of every Orlando Magic fan. So Shaq left and it took a long time to recover. 13 years later Dwight Howard somehow managed to go to an NBA Finals with a very weird and well coached Magic team that seemed content to just get there, and let’s face it, didn’t really have a shot against the Lakers. Then, Rob Hennigan happened. Bad draft picks, horrible free agent signings and head scratching trades were the norm under this guy. Even though he’s still no longer with the team the stench of his horrible decisions still linger over the very bizarre roster today’s Magic have assembled. Granted the beginning of this season has been a very pleasant surprise many people feel it’s just a phase in which a lot of “bad teams” started hot and will eventually fall back down to earth. I’m just trying to believe they might snatch the East’s 8th spot and finally be back in the playoff picture, but... why? Shouldn’t they just tank and hope to get ANOTHER draft pick? Who knows? All I know is Aaron Gordon is finally playing some decent basketball and I have really high expectations from rookie Jonathan Isaac and might eventually become a steal in the draft. Fan-ability: D

Philadelphia 76ers

Oh God! The Process. The day they win a championship I’ll tolerate the Process. I feel awful for the Philly fans that had to endure such a long run of shameless, utter failure while being the laughing stock of the whole league. Having the commissioner actually getting involved in the team’s plan to continue sucking has got to be embarrassing. But 76ers fans have shown they always trusted the process and are now celebrating as if Joel Embiid and Ben Simmons are the next best thing since sliced bread, but I have to remind every Sixer fan once in a while that they drafted Michael Carter-Williams and traded him for nothing, Nerlens Noel and traded him for nothing and Jahlil Okafor, who’ll be traded for nothing... so let’s not get too excited just yet. We still have to find out what Markelle Fultz becomes. The level of incompetence they endured for so long actually made us all root for them making them the most lovable underdog in history and thus captivating a new fan base of people rooting for the eternal losers to finally get a break. They used to be good though. Real good. Mostly because they had Allen Iverson, the best pound for pound player ever. Those A.I. teams were surrounded by a bunch of scrubs, role players and stiffs that watched “The Answer” in awe as he dismantled every opponent they faced. The team had a superstar and a lot of heart that would eventually take the finals against another almost invincible Lakers team, that for a second, crapped their pants when Allen Iverson tore them apart in Game 1. Eventually L.A. won 4 straight and the series was over. Philadelphia was praised for valiantly battling a star studded team with a minuscule scorer along with a bunch of unknowns (so yeah, they’ve always been the lovable underdogs). In a very “Rocky” way, Philadelphia always seems to be forced against the ropes and fighting back the best way they can. Fan-ability: B

Phoenix Suns

It’s hard to imagine a time where the Phoenix Suns were a great Western Conference team. They were. My first memories of good Suns teams was the Barkley, KJ and Majerle led team. Then there’s the Nash-Stoudemire era where the battles against their Western Conference nemesis were pretty epic. It’s seems like its been forever since the glory days for the Suns. They had a nice little run not long ago with a trio of guards that are really good (Eric Bledsoe, Goran Dragic and Isaiah Thomas) but seemed like they handled it very poorly only ending the very brief run with some questionable GM decisions. Overall the Suns are franchise that hasn’t really clicked and found a clear path to becoming a fun team to watch. The Suns are very young and do have a great-to-be shooting guard in Devin Booker, but they’re probably 4 years from being competitive again and some young players like Bender, Marquese Chriss and Josh Jackson have to prove their worth in the next upcoming seasons. Trading Bledsoe seems like it could be a fresh start and open up some very important playing time for the younger talent. So brace yourselves, it’s not gonna be pretty. Fan-ability: C-

Portland Trailblazers

Hispters rejoice! There’s no doubt that rooting for the Blazers is the cool thing to do since nobody really trusts their backcourt defense, bench or bother to give Dame Dolla (a.k.a. Damien Lillard) an All-Star nod. CJ McCollum and Damien Lillard think they’re the best backcourt in the NBA and it’s a legitimate claim since they score at will against any and every defender. When it comes to clutch shooting... you know it’s Dame Time! I personally find the Blazers a really fun team to watch and when you think about it, it’s been the case for a very long time. Awesome Blazer players throughout the years: Clifford Robinson (headband included), Jerome Kersey, Rod Strickland, Arvydas Sabonis, Rasheed Wallace, Brandon Roy and LaMarcus Aldridge are just some of the names that made this cool-ass city much much cooler. They’ve been relevant but haven’t really won a championship but at least they’ve been to one. Even if they’ve lost more than they’ve won they are definitly a cool team. Fan-ability: B+

Sacramento Kings

Before owner Vivek Ranadivé thought Nik Stauskas was the next best thing, before they drafted every single big while having arguably the best center in the league in Boogie Cousins and confusing everybody with every single poor decision the Kings were exciting.

Can it be argued that Jason “White Chocolate” Williams was the most entertaining point guard of the last 25 years? I certainly think so. He put the Kings on the map along with a very productive Chris Webber, the shooter extraordinaire of Peja Stojakovic and a bunch of really good role players. They kind of underachieved but looking back on that team, they might have been a little too young and flashy. The only time they made the NBA Finals was unfortunately in the movie “How to lose a guy in 10 days”. They lost those fake finals to the Knicks, how about that?

They might be making a comeback, though. The fun team they used to be could once again excite us basketball fans with rookie phenom De'Aaron Fox, second year shooting guard Buddy Hield, big man Willy Cauley-Stein and the rest of the young core. After all the DeMarcus Cousins drama they dealt with I sincerely hope they find their way with this young squad and make the Kings games a must watch. Fan-ability: C

San Antonio Spurs

You know how some organizations are so good they become kind of annoying and after a while they stop being annoying again because you’re in awe of how well they do everything? That’s the San Antonio Spurs.

Only the Spurs can reach the playoffs a record setting 20 consecutive years (also the longest active playoff streak in any major North American sports league as of 2017) and keep drafting really good under the radar rookies, who eventually turn out to be really good. You can’t talk about the Spurs without talking about Tim Duncan or Gregg Popovich, and even though there have been a lot of other amazing Spurs players (David Robinson, Manu, Tony Parker, Sean Elliott, now Kawhi, etc.) it’s Pop and Timmy’s dynasty. And is it just me or was Gregg Popovich really unlikable back when we didn’t really know him? He seemed like a real a**hole but now people want him to be the next President.

They are an iconic dynasty that will be a trademark of greatness for years and years to come. Watching Timmy retire was hard, I can’t imagine what’ll be like when Pop calls it quits.

Fan-ability: A+

Toronto Raptors

All Star Weekends aren’t really important. I was always a fan of these long, flashy, ceremonious events, but not really. It’s like it’s supposed to happen and it’s kinda like the mid-season awards in a way but it’s definitely not a big deal. In the year 2000 (shout out to Conan) though, it mattered, mainly because of the Canada’s basketball ambassador unbelievable display of amazingness and athletic dunk display that became, and still is, the single best dunk contest in the history basketball. Vince Carter was “Air Canada” but eventually it became a messy divorce with the franchise and once again became a sub par team. Nowadays they a decent top 3 team in the Leastern Conference, but I don’t expect them to go further than the second round of the playoffs, even though Masai Ujiri managed to assemble a nice roster that inlcudes the Big Medium 3 of: Lowry, DeRozan and Ibaka. The Raptors have always been ok and cool to root for (they are the only non U.S. team in the league, and that might be a plus) and the list of iconic players is actually pretty decent: Vince, T-Mac, Damon “Mighty Mouse” Stoudamire, Marcus Camby and Skip to my Lou (Rafer Alston). The most notable Raptors fan nowadays is Toronto’s rapper Drake (see also: Nav Bhatia) which really boosts popularity for the franchise, even when we know LeBron will have his way with the Raps come playoff time. Fan-ability: B+

Utah Jazz

Ok, first things first... let me just say that the biggest oxymoron is this franchise’s name. Has there ever been actual jazz played in the Mormon state? (shout out to Trey Parker and Matt Stone for the hilarious “Book of Mormon” musical) Now that I got that out of the way, let’s go ahead and analyze the franchise. They’ve been a really well coached team for the most part (Jerry Sloan and now Quin Snyder) and even when they’re lacking star power they seem to be that team you don’t want to face. They’re really good at drafting and developing young talent and that translates into really feisty hard working potential all-stars... that eventually leave via free agency, probably because Utah isn’t the sexiest place in the world. Deron Williams was on his way of becoming the best point guard in the league and almost overnight became an expendable bench player. Gordon Hayward was the big white hope but opted to join forces with his former Butler head coach in Boston and got injured 5 minutes into his Celtic debut... wait is this a “Leave Utah curse” theory? Nah. Hayward will be alright... I hope. The 90′s and 2000′s were different though, Utah was a star studded franchise always representing the west come playoff time mainly because of the one the best duos of all time: Karl Malone and John Stockton. Although they never got to win the championship they’ll always be remembered as a legit force in the league. As for now, let’s just hope Rudy Gobert keeps developing into the best dang Center in the league... he certainly has the potential. Rodney Hood (awesome name by the way) needs to become an offensive force and most importantly be consistent. Dante Exum sadly, hasn’t really lived up to the hype and I believe has reached his ceiling. They are what all Jazz teams are, gritty and tough. Fan-ability: C+

Washington Wizards

DC’s team is and has always been a conundrum. Wizards teams have been pretty good on paper but none of them, including a Michael Jordan led team, could really make them relevant (granted MJ was getting pretty old and wasn’t in the best shape). It seems the current team is the best the franchise has had in a long time, yet they’re not close to being a Conference favorite. Do the Wizards have big names? Yup, John Wall is in the prime of a stellar career. Bradley Beal has proven he can stay healthy and stay productive. Otto Porter got paid All-Star money and should become one for this team to really go further. Are they well coached? Debatable, but I believe Scott Brooks is a huge improvement over several of the last coaches in Washington. Now the big question is can they actually dethrone Cleveland? The other big question is whether this roster is built for the future like Boston is. Sadly, my answer for both these questions is no. They had their share of bad draft picks (Kwame Brown most notably), players gone bad (Gilbert Arenas, Juwan Howard) iconic players that never really transcended or carried the franchise (MJ, Chris Webber), but the bottom line is they’re a cool franchise to root for (used to be cooler when they were the “Bullets”) in a cool city. Hopefully one day they’ll become a legitimate championship contending team. Maybe if they figure out how to get Boogie Cousins that’ll happend sooner rather than later. Fan-ability: B-

2 notes · View notes