#remember when they invaded london??

[technekratos]

What do you mean by Venus floating cities?

I'm hoping to write a science fiction story about visiting Venus as part of the space race and I would love your input

Alright so the thing with Venus is that we're all very familiar with her horrible hell-death clouds and 900°F surface temperatures. We all understand the surface of Venus is not a fun place for humans to be.

But, nobody ever talks about the fact that ABOVE the hell-death clouds, Venus is a paradise. The most Earth-like environment we know of in the solar system, beyond Earth itself, is actually in the skies of Venus.

About 30 miles above the surface, the pressure is ~1 atmosphere, and the temperature ranges from 30 - 100°F, which is Happy Human™ standard pressure and temperature.

What's more, a breathable mix of oxygen and nitrogen provides over 60% the lifting power on Venus that helium does on Earth. In other words, a balloon full of human-breathable air would float to the habitable range of Venus's atmosphere. We could float a ship with the very air we breathe.

The other great thing about this is that it avoids one of the big problems with Mars colonization. On Mars, any habitat on the surface full of breathable air is vulnerable to leaks and explosive decompression, a la the Martian.

Floating on Venus, a balloon full of breathable air doesn't have a significant pressure difference between the inside and the outside. Which means, any leaks or tears would be very slow and manageable. You could fix that shit with duct tape!

Similarly, because the environment outside the balloon is so Earth-like, humans living there wouldn't need any big fancy pressurized suits for extravehicular work. We'd need air to breathe, maybe some heat protection, and protection against the acid rain. That's it. 

Venus also provides the tools to keep us fed! It's atmosphere is made primarily of carbon dioxide, even above the dense horrible clouds. What likes carbon dioxide? Plants from Earth!! Lets grow FOOD on FLOATING PLATFORMS in the SKIES of VENUS.

This whole idea actually came out of a NASA effort exploring potential Venus colonization. The program was called HAVOC - the High Altitude Venus Operational Concept.

It hasn't really gone anywhere, and as far as I know there are no real plans to revisit it. Unfortunately, from a practicality standpoint, Mars is a much more viable target for human colonization. Not only is it better poised for outer solar system exploration, being farther away from the sun, but living on Venus would come with too many complicated contingencies. In the event of a major failure on Venus, you'd need to fly to another base, or fuck off all the way to orbit. I understand why people aren't really in a hurry to live somewhere where landing on the surface means certain death.

But that doesn't mean I won't be forever and always enamored by the skies of Venus. Here's one of the artist concepts to come out of HAVOC.

I want to be there.

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Four

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri x lando norris f1 smau with intermittent scenes Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right? Warnings: language, author lied when she said lando was just there (i promise she's not getting anymore men omg), implied smut playlist a.n: the next part will have a q&a with y/n on insta/tiktok so if anyone has questions they'd like for her to answer please send them to my inbox (as basic or unhinged as you like)

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: SURPRISE!!! I present to you my new babies: Enchanted and Lover. Enjoy, my little lattes 💋❤️

↳user3: MY THOUGHTS WILL ECHO YOUR NAME            ↳ user4: omg these are what her and the driver guy were saying            ↳user5: DID SHE WRITE IT FOR OSCAR?!?!?! ↳oscarpiastri: Beautiful, love. 🧡            ↳ynyln: no you 🧡            ↳user4: omg ↳charles_leclerc: all's well that ends well to end up with you ❤️            ↳ynyln: I'll save you a seat, lover ❤️ ↳sabrinacarpenter: on repeat!!            ↳ynyln:❤️ ↳landonorris: love            ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie 🫶🏻 ↳user7: I'm here from f1, why does she call people little lattes?            ↳user8: welcome!! it's a term of endearment for her fans. y/n said in an interview that we give her comfort and a burst of energy, like a latte midafternoon, and it just stuck.

Lando nodded along with the beat. "It just needs a little something extra… You want to keep it acoustic?"

She nodded, sipping her tea. She looked astounded that he was there. He knew he was. When she'd texted him he hadn't expected he'd be on a flight to London within two hours. But here he was, sitting with her in her "little" basement studio, listening to her song for the fifth time, mouthing the lyrics she'd probably written with Charles or Oscar in mind. Charles and Oscar, who were upstairs sleeping soundly.

How I obsessively adore you That's what I do I believe, I believe, I could die in your kiss No, it doesn't get, doesn't get better than this

Oh to be obsessively adored by her.

"I'll do some piano, hang on." She leaned across him, invading his space with her gentle floral aroma and her soft hair and…

He sighed, staring at her in awe as she worked her magic at the keyboard. It was crazy that he was even here, in her private sanctum, witnessing what would undoubtedly be a hit as it was created.

"The piano's too prominent," he said, wanting to feel useful. "The guitar should be the main instrument."

Y/n nodded, and he reached to adjust levels, standing up and hitting play. She looked tense and tired and stressed and he instinctively moved to stand behind her, hesitating.

"Ok to touch you?" he asked.

She tilted her head to look at him. "Yeah of course."

He rested his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently as the song played. "It's a good song, y/n."

"You think so?" she asked in a small voice.

"It's a love song. Hopeful and adoring. It's beautiful. Charles is a lucky guy."

She hummed, relaxing under his gentle touch. "What's he got to do with it?"

Oh. "I uh… Osc then."

She turned her head to look up at him. "It's not for him."

Oh. Oh. "Someone else?" Christ how many boyfriends did she have--

"You don't remember? You float across the room. It's what you said to me at the club after the race in--"

"Monaco," he whispered.

"It stuck with me. So did the kiss," she murmured.

He swallowed, continuing to rub her shoulders. "You didn't... When I sent you those videos I didn't know about Osc and Charles."

Y/n turned and his hands dropped. "What do they have to do with it?"

A nervous laugh rose in his throat. "You're dating them? Both of them, which is insane to me but like I get it. You're like a mouse on crack, you probably need two boyfriends to keep you from taking off—"

She laughed. "A mouse on crack? Really?"

Sighing as she stood up, he looked down at her. "I just… Don't want to mess up what the three of you have going on."

"They don't own me, Lando. I'm a grown woman, I can do what I want with my body whenever I want. With whoever I want."

Lando blinked, his mind short-circuiting over the mental image that put into his head. Swallowing hard, he drew in a breath as she stretched. And held it, staring at her while she fiddled with controls and restarted the song. Let it out slow when he saw the tension returning to her shoulders.

He was reaching for her before he even registered the movement.

"C'mere," he murmured, pulling her to him. Reaching behind her, he switched off the song. "You're gonna drive yourself crazy, love."

"It's right there, Lando, I just need to push a little harder," she groaned, holding her head in her hands and letting him draw her closer.

"Hey, hey, shh…" It felt natural to kiss the top of her head, to wrap his arms around her and try to calm her. "I'm not gonna let you go insane over a song. It's fine, I know you'll come up with something amazing. Just give it time."

"It's not just a song," she whined. "I'm absolutely shit at talking about my feelings for someone, you know? Especially when it…"

"Might go up in flames?" he whispered.

Her hands were on his chest, her head tilting up. "Did you have any idea what you were doing when you stole my number and texted me?"

"Honestly thought I was shooting my shot and hoping I'd get lucky," he muttered, grinning when she laughed.

"It worked."

"Huh?" Lando grunted in surprise.

"Got me thirsty. The past couple weeks have been crazy, trying to fight it, but god, Lando." She sighed as though to ease the tension but it was still there, her body still taut with stress and worry. "I honestly thought you came tonight to fuck me."

His mind bounced like a padel ball in an intense match. He wanted to comfort her, to get her to relax, to ease her worries about the song. But oh how he wanted to kiss her again. He could just remember their half-drunken kiss in Monaco, the electricity thrumming through him, his heartbeat matching the thumping bass of the music. Thought you came tonight to fuck me.

He blinked, his mind going back to a quiet moment before the race in Montreal, when Oscar had been telling him about the unconventional relationship he'd found himself in.

"We're just taking it day by day. But she has a lot of love to give, mate. Sounds crazy, but… I don't think one person could handle it all."

Was there even room for him? Was he honestly considering entangling himself in what would, probably, end up being a PR nightmare for the four of them?

Why was he even thinking of love when he'd originally just wanted to be able to say he'd fucked the richest woman in the world?

"I…"

He leaned down, one hand rising to cup the side of her head. It was supposed to be gentle, sweet, the type of kiss that deserved the song she was working on, but it was harsh, deep and demanding, and he was swallowing her moans. Her nails lightly scraped his neck then they were sliding over his scalp and he whimpered.

"I didn't," he gasped between kisses, growing needier with each taste of her, each moan that fell past her lips. She tasted of tea and chocolate. "I didn't come here to fuck you."

"I know," she moaned. She leaned into him and he felt the need, the flames licking at both of them.

"That's new," Oscar commented, chin resting on her shoulder while she poured herself a coffee. His fingers brushed the side of her neck.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the delicate touch, sparking the very recent memory of Lando's mouth on her. "Yeah…"

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked, kissing the mark, his arms snaking around her waist.

"Maybe an hour," she mumbled. After breaking the chair in her studio with Lando, she'd had a burst of inspiration, and the sun had been coming up when they'd listened to the finalized track.

"Love," he sighed, taking the coffee from her before she could take a sip.

"Babe," she whined, her mind snapping to the present, though part lingered on the memory of the twisted sheets of the guest room, of Lando's panting moans in her ear.

"I'll fix you something to eat, then you're going back to bed." He kissed the top of her head and moved away, drinking her coffee.

"I've got to—"

"You don't have anything scheduled for the day. Or tomorrow. So it's rest. No recording, no caffeine, rest." Oscar looked at her over his shoulder. "Stop pouting."

"I just wanted to spend the day with my boyfriends," she sighed, climbing onto the stool at the island counter. Wrinkling her nose when he poured a glass of orange juice and set it in front of her, she reluctantly took a sip.

"We can spend the day here. Peace and quiet, love."

She felt herself melt at his gentle words. Peace and quiet and them. For the whole day. She'd only had snatches of time with them since leaving Monaco. She'd had a concert the day of the Canadian grand prix, and now it felt like some sort of cosmic kismet that her mini break coincided with theirs. They couldn't be together for the whole time, but she would cherish the days she could have.

"Bonjour, mon couer, bonjour koala," Charles greeted as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

Y/n saw Oscar's cheeks tinge pink at the affectionate nickname Charles had started using for him. She sipped her orange juice, looking on as Charles brushed by Oscar, his hand resting briefly on the small of his back, and heard the whispered word. Rousseur. Freckle.

God, she loved them. Oscar's freckles, Charles's nicknames, and them.

"Good morning," she murmured after he kissed her.

"You didn't tell me we would have a guest, mon couer," he murmured, moving to fix himself coffee.

Oscar turned from the cooktop. "Guest?"

"Oh. Yeah." Y/n rubbed her neck. "Lando flew in last night. Late."

"He's snoring in the guest room." Charles was chuckling. "Leo went to bother him."

"I texted him. About the song. I needed input, and you were both asleep and—"

"Lando came to help you?" Oscar's smile was soft.

"He did."

Oscar tipped his head, regarding her much like a cat watching a bird through the window. "Ah."

"Ah, what?" Charles asked, rubbing his eyes while he sipped his coffee. Lowering his hand, he looked at y/n, snorting into his cup. "Ah."

She groaned, slumping down onto the counter. "Is it that obvious?"

"Love, you're glowing." Oscar grinned and turned back to the eggs.

"I've been glowing since Monaco," she muttered against the countertop. Slowly, she lifted herself, eyes darting from Charles to Oscar and back again. "You're okay with it?"

"I already told you, mon couer. I don't mind sharing you." Charles's smile was affectionate. "As long as you're safe and he treats you well."

"He's one of my best mates, y/n. Not to mention he's been obsessed with you for ages," Oscar quipped, sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.

"He's not obsessed," she snorted.

"Did he fly commercial or private?" Oscar asked, leaning against the counter.

Y/n sighed, taking a bite of the eggs. "Private," she mumbled.

"Day by day, love," Oscar said gently, leaning to kiss her forehead.

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others ynyln: rough night in the studio until this one came to lend a hand. magic: made. forever grateful, sweet Lando. Let's just enjoy the view tagged: landonorris ↳landonorris: thank you for giving me a chance. soz about the chair            ↳ynyln: chairs can be replaced. and you'll always have a chance while I'm around            ↳user4: aww wait what did he do to the chair??? ↳user3: lando was streaming with quadrant until 1am monaco time            ↳ user4: god did he fly out to help her? my heart            ↳user5: wait that's really sweet 🥺 ↳oscarpiastri: will you rest now?            ↳ynyln: yes darling            ↳user6: aww ↳charles_leclerc: I adore the new song, mon couer            ↳ynyln: it sounds better when you sing it ↳user7: omg did she collect another one            ↳user8: omg stooopppp 😂😂😂

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[staytinyville]

Towards the Light Masterlist (2K Followers Special)

↣ Summary: You’ve lived eight different lives, all of which they couldn’t save you. Now they will do all they can to keep you alive and within their arms. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Fallen Angel!Ateez x Reader

↣ Genre: Mature

↣ AU/Trope info: Fallen Angel!Au, Reincarnation!Au

↣ Word Count: N/A

↣ Warnings: Topics of suicide in one of the one-shots, mental illness, violence, marital abuse and violence, murder, smut (More warnings apply within each chapter)

↣ A/N: This was just one of the few stories I was inspired to write after my concert. It was one of the greatest things I got the chance of experiencing and I am so excited to see them again. I don’t know when but I am hoping to. Tell me what were your favorite parts of the concert!

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cultofdionysusnet , @cromernet , @monsterfvckersunited , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

Was there really someone watching over you? Someone who would protect you from any harm? The idea that someone–something–would drop everything just to see you live another day, was beyond comprehensible. Was their love for you so powerful they would ruin their grace for you?

**

You could remember the time when things seemed to have changed within your soul. It had been when your family was slaughtered within your home by the invaders. Or could it have been when you had gotten sick and landed in the hospital? No, it must have been when you proverked those men to attack you. No–No–

There were so many things that led you to be confused when you truly felt like things were taking a turn. You weren’t too sure what was real and what was just a story you might have heard. You couldn’t even decide if you were a real person living in the modern day world. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that others still acknowledged you at one point or another. 

You didn’t live in a village. Didn’t live in Victorian era London. You for sure weren’t married. 

You lived on the 12th floor of a high rise building. You had a fridge that held all the food you would eat for the week. You had a fat cat that owlishly blinked at you from its perch on the window every time you came in frazzled from work. You had a plant in a pot that would sometimes smell from the water you had given it the day before. 

No–No. You lived in modern day times where genocide was a war crime. Where medicine was now able to contract a sickness you might have. Where women had more voice than ever before. 

Where looking over the side of a building caused for concern from your peers because suicide was not something to be taken lightly. 

It was modern day times, and yet you still always thought about the past. 

You weren’t a skeptic but you were a paranoid person for some reason. You felt like you were being watched for years–even going as far as seeking help for schizophrenia. But your paranoia never changed, however your feelings did. 

You grew used to looking behind your shoulder in hopes of catching whoever was looking at you. Feeling the shivers go down your spine as someone gets too close. But the moment you let your guard down, that was when the dreams started. 

One by one you saw them each in your dreams–each more different then the last. But still always watching you.

1960s - Jongho - October 1

1910s - Wooyoung - October 5

1880s - Mingi - October 9

1830s - San - October 13

1740s - Yeosang - October 17

1700s - Yunho - October 21

1690s - Seonghwa - October 25

1620s - Hongjoong - October 29

2024 - ATEEZ - October 31

Be sure to apply to my Masterlist on Google docs if you would like to be tagged in the series. I was gonna do Kinktober but bro I didn’t catch up quickly. I don’t have time because I’m going on vacation in October so yeah. My smut writing is trash atm bro. I can’t

[rebeliz7]

MONSTER

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Underworld!Reader

Word Count: 5375

…

“You’re a monster!”

The words seem to echo in your head, as your wife clearly debates whether or not she should take them back. Not that you think she would, not after what happened--not after what she saw you doing. 

All the anger you were feeling just seconds ago evaporates, leaving only hurt in its wake. You can’t believe she’d scream that at you, not even while the two of you were fighting. 

The fight is over now, not that you can even remember what you were fighting about in the first place. At this point you two could have been yelling spiteful things at each other because of the phone charger, because that’s who you’ve become. 

It doesn’t take much to ignite a fight nowadays, anyways. 

You’re a monster. 

The venom in her voice, the way she spit the words at you--the moment is replaying in a loop in your head now. 

Finally, you manage to look away from her eyes and leave the room. 

She doesn’t stop you. 

…

“You good?” Bucky asks you when you join the team in the conference room, which is where your feet took you automatically. He seems to be the only one who notices, or cares. 

The world seems to tilt on you, as you remember that it’s the middle of the day, and you went to your floor earlier to get your wife--because there’s a mission and she wasn’t here for the debriefing. 

She was on the phone when you entered your shared bedroom, but she ended the call as soon as you closed the door behind you. You asked her who she was talking to, and she exploded. 

You’re a monster. 

You can’t believe she’d say that. Not after everything she knows. 

“I’m fine.” You reply, as you take a seat. 

He takes your response the same way all of them do, not completely uninterested but keeping a safe distance from you. 

They’ve never seen you as more than an ally, and Natasha’s wife. They’ve never really accepted you, and although you all live under the same roof, they’ve never concerned themselves with making you feel at home. 

You don’t belong here, you never really have. 

You’d keep your distance too, you think. They know who you are after all--what you are, you don’t blame them. 

Natasha enters the conference room, and her mood seems to invade every single corner of it. There’s no mistaking her attitude, and the anger that threatens to eat her away every time she’s forced to be in the same room as you. 

It wasn’t always like this--she loved you, you’re sure she did. But things have changed, and everything she once loved about you, now seems to have pushed her away. 

“Any takers?” Tony asks, and you finally look up. The map behind him shows a Hydra base with almost every single corner secured. 

It’s a dangerous mission, no one is eager to go because as important as it is to retrieve a nuclear weapon Hydra is threatening to use against the people in London if they don’t get what they want, everyone in this team has something to live for, even you. 

But your life, your existence is slightly different than theirs is. Maybe your time is up. 

Your father warned you though, he warned you that if you left home then he wouldn’t be able to protect you from these situations. Mortality is--not something you understand completely. You didn’t care at the time, you were in love and to be with Natasha you needed to be on earth and not--you needed to be on this mortal realm because she’s human. 

The room grows quieter the longer the seconds drag on, and with a sinking feeling in your gut, you decide to take this one. You don’t know what will happen, but if you leave now you think it’ll give the people who loved you and still do a little bit of peace. 

“I’ll do it.” You speak, and your wife’s eyes are suddenly on you. 

“What?” She asks, growls, but you don’t look at her. This is not the right place, and maybe these people are nothing more than a working team to you, but you’re far from letting them see what a wreckage your marriage has turned into. 

You left everything to be here, everything. 

“Me too,” Bucky says, but you don’t look at him either. 

“No, you’re not.” Steve tells him.

“It’s too dangerous.” Wanda’s hand is on Bucky’s arm, her concern clear. “We should plan better. Go all in, or none at all.”

The last time Wanda fought Hydra, they hit her with a powerful weapon meant to disable her powers. She was unconscious for two days, and now she’s not eager to ever face Hydra again.  

“Let’s think about this for a second.” Sam joins in the conversation, and in the blink of an eye you have a room full of people hellbent on keeping Bucky out of this mission. 

The more they raise their voice, you wonder, where was this concern when you initially offered yourself for this mission?

You’re not close to any of them, you’ve never been good at making friends, but it still hurts. 

It hurts, because they know about your father’s warning. They know you can die here too.

Natasha tries to touch your hand, and her words replay in your mind again. You move your hand away and stand up, only to walk towards Stark in the front of the room. 

“When do I have to leave?” You ask him, and he’s uncomfortable as he hands you a tablet, holding all the details of the mission. 

“In an hour.” He clears his throat, looks into your eyes and looks away just as fast. 

“Okay.” 

Natasha’s eyes are glued on you as you leave the room, but she doesn’t try to stop you. No one else seems to notice your departure. 

…

This time you go straight to daycare. Your daughter runs to your open arms the moment she spots you, and everything else loses importance, even if for a couple of minutes. 

“It’s so cold, mommy.” Elizabeth squeezes you in her arms, and you rub her back soothingly. It’s snowing outside, but the temperature is comfortable in the room, which makes you smile because Beth has always been a bit too dramatic for her own good. 

“I know, princess.” You put her down, and let her guide you towards her desk in the middle of the room. 

“Look at my unicorn, mommy.” She shows you a drawing, and the next couple of minutes you spend them with her. 

At one point you watch Tony walking in as well, and picking up Morgan before leaving with her. 

You’re a monster.

The words continue to replay in your head, making you feel hurt all over again. You’ve always thought that Natasha was the only person who didn’t see you like that. 

You were wrong though. The only person who doesn’t see you like that is this little girl, your kid.

When you leave daycare, you’re not exactly feeling better but at least you do it with the knowledge that someone cares about you, Elizabeth cares and even if you don’t come back you’ll still have a way to take care of her. 

…

“Barnes is going with you.” Natasha tells you the moment you step inside your bedroom, where she’s been waiting, apparently. 

You stop moving just inside the room, looking at her and her tensed posture. It wasn’t always like this, she loved you. 

She used to love you.

“The things I did before--” you start and she growls in annoyance. 

“Not this again.” She interrupts you. 

“I thought you knew me. I thought you knew I’m not an actual monster. I left everything for us.”

“Yeah, well.” She swallows, and her eyes find yours with only a little bit of insecurity in them. “Maybe I don’t really know you. Maybe we really did rush into this. And maybe you can't fight whatever it is that lives within you.”

Those words steal your breath away completely. This, she says, referring to your marriage, your family and the little girl you two adopted two years ago. 

She says it as if she doesn’t remember all you gave up to be with her. Not that you blame her, she never asked you to give up anything, you made that decision on your own. 

The pain in your gut seems to spread to every inch of your body, and you wonder if she knows what she’s doing to you, or if she even cares anymore.

You father warned you, of course. He told you all about humans, but you fell for Natasha and he saw it too. There was no stopping you. 

“You don’t love me anymore.” You speak, and she doesn’t look away when she answers. 

“Love is for children.” She spits out, and you try to swallow down your heartbreak. 

“Okay.” You nod, and she sighs. 

“Okay? Do you get what I’m trying to say?” She asks, and although you’re one step away from breaking down, you still meet her anger with your own. 

“You’re ending our marriage. I’m not an idiot.”

“You don’t care to know why?” She asks. 

“You already told me.” You answer as you pick up your bag from the closet. “I’m a monster, right?”

…

Everything goes sideways as soon as you and Barnes touch ground. You’re both hit with darts, and neither one of you has the time to even speak through your coms before you fall unconscious. They were waiting for you.

You wake up on the ground of a flying cargo jet. Your mouth is covered with duct tape, and there are ropes tied tightly around your wrists and ankles. You try to locate Barnes without alerting the couple of masked guards sitting a few feet away from you, but as far as you can tell he’s not here. 

You have two options, you can get out of these ropes and kill everyone on this jet but there’s no guarantee that the pilot will take you to your real destination. Or, you can pretend to be unconscious and let them believe they’ve captured you. 

“How are we gonna do this?” You hear one of the men ask.

“We’re not doing it. They’ll make the Winter Soldier do it. Hydra’s name won’t even come up.”

“It’ll be the end of the Avengers.”

They continue to talk, but you barely listen anymore. They’re gonna program Barnes to do their dirty work, which means that your mission just got more complicated than it initially was. 

You’ll have to stop a nuclear attack, and rescue Barnes on the way too. 

…

You don’t know where you land, but it’s hours after you heard the guards talk. The jet lands on an underground facility, and you’re carried inside a large cell made of glass walls. 

With no way to communicate with base, you sit up as the ropes around your wrist and ankles burn in flames at your will. 

You’re about to open up a portal on the thick glass wall to your right, when the air stills and time itself comes to a stop.

You feel the atmosphere thickening before a portal opens up on the floor a few feet away from you, and your father emerges from it. 

He’s wearing a black suit, three piece, and a large coat hanging from his shoulders. He has a cigar between his teeth, and fire burning in his eyes. 

“My kid.” He grins, while you sit back down on the iron bench the guards left you. 

“Father.” You incline your head in respect, and he sighs before shaking his foot to get rid of a few little lingering flames.  

“This is the end of your journey,” he says without sugarcoating anything, while walking closer and sitting next to you. “As a mortal, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree with unmasked sadness. “How will it happen?”

You refuse to look at him just yet, but he still offers you a cigar and you take it. 

It was your thing back at home, he’d come to see you and offer you a cigar and you’d talk for hours. You’d join him at court, and he’d offer you a cigar while you two listened to his advisors talk for hours. You’d look for him down at the pits, and he’d always offer you a cigar while you waited for the boatkeeper to count his coins. 

It’s sort of poetic that he’s come all the way up with one, to warn you one more time.

“They’re gonna torture you for a couple of hours, and you’ll let it happen because the longer they interrogate you the longer your ‘friends’ have to get here.”

“Will they get here in time?” You ask him, as he lights up your cigar and he watches until you take a long drag. 

“Yes.”

You’ve never died before, your siblings have and even your father experienced it once . You’re scared, and he sees it. 

“They won’t save you, it’ll be too late for that but they’ll save the other one, and they’ll stop the nuclear attack too.”

A part of you wants to ask him to intervene, but you know you can’t. He’ll punish you for asking, and he won’t lift a finger to intervene. He respects the law, he abides by it and anyone who’s ever dared to cross him is still paying for it and will continue to pay for it until the end of times. 

“What if I attack first?” You ask, and he takes a deep breath. The room is filled with smoke, the taste of the cigar has lost its appeal on your tongue but you still take another drag. 

Among his many qualities, your father can see what will happen according to a multitude of choices a person can make in a split second, so you know he’ll tell you the truth. 

“Chaos will erupt. They shoot the other guy in the face first, and then they release the nuclear weapon. London is wiped off, the Avengers find you to be the only survivor on this base but it wouldn’t matter either way.”

“They’ll blame me.” You conclude, and he nudges your shoulder with his affectionately. 

“They’ll blame you.”

Time goes by with the two of you smoking your cigars, and no talk. 

You were almost on your way to attack this base, his showing up at that exact second was not a coincidence. He’s come to ask you to make the right choice. 

It’s not common for him to have a say in these types of things, so you know it means more than he’s letting on. He has a chance to make something right, you both do.

“You will still be able to see your daughter,” he tells you. “I’ll make sure of it.”

When he meets your stare the fire in his eyes is burning brightly, a beautiful contrast to his skin. The dimples on his cheeks are prominent as he grins at you, and you know the same dimples appear on your face as you smile back. 

Your mother always said that the reason why he loved you the most out of all their children, is because you’re his spitting image. You always argued that the truth couldn’t be further from her statement, since out of all your siblings you’re the only one sane enough. 

But you know it’s the truth, he’s always loved the way you smile and those dimples reminded him that you’re his daughter. The first time he saw your eyes burning like his do, he laughed so loud that even the souls in the Styx River peaked out to marvel at the sound of it. 

He was an angel once, after all, and the sound of his laughter remains to be the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. 

When you finish your cigar he promptly stands up, and you do too. 

“Your mother misses you,” he says just as a portal opens up on the floor and you catch sight of the raging flames that surround it. 

The thought of your mother makes you smile, you miss her too. 

“Well, you can tell her I’ll be home for dinner.” You smile, although a treacherous tear rolls down your cheek. Your father is quick to wipe it off for you, the back of his fingers graze your cheek as he smiles too. 

“She knows.” He sighs, and the flame in his eyes dissipates and leaves in its wake the saddest look that you’ve ever seen on your father’s face.

“I’m sorry you had to learn about humans this way.” He says, and the sorrow of his soul spreads all over you and even home, it seems. The flames of his open portal evaporate, and smoke rises up from it. 

“I imagine there’s no other way to learn this lesson.” You swallow with difficulty and he kisses your temple, his hands cupping your face. 

“I’ll see you home, kid.” He smiles. “That dog of yours has been missing you.”

You chuckle, as you picture the faces of your three headed dog howling into the dark skies, begging for your return. He always tended to be a bit dramatic. 

“Thank you, dad.” You tell him as he begins his descent, and he smiles one last time before he’s gone. 

…

They do come for you, they take you to an interrogation room where they begin by hitting you. They move you into a different glass room, and you can see them trying to reprogram Barnes in the next room too. 

It’s not an easy task, since he had all his triggers removed when he was in Wakanda. They try and they try, and they attempt to punch the answer to his resistance out of you but you give them none. 

Barnes looks at you, but he’s too weak and he still has his metal arm. That’s how you realize how the team will find you, the arm has a tracer. Stark installed it a couple of weeks ago, Barnes wasn’t happy about it but it’s paying off either way. 

Hours go by, and by then they’ve pulled out seven of your finger nails with tweezers. The pain is the worst, the pain still shocks you, and makes you feel smaller than you really are. 

You don’t feel any pain at home, pain is not something made for your kind. Pain is human, and you remind yourself that you chose this and endure it. 

Weakness doesn’t embrace you, it’s not natural for you to feel tired, let alone weak in the face of trouble. Which is the reason why your capturers continue to beat you, and cut you and even shoot you. 

By the time you hear a commotion, your head feels funny and your vision is blurry. They hit you in the head a lot, and the gunshots on your abdomen are already taking your life away. This body is human after all. 

You see the Captain going for Barnes, and Barnes collapsing in his arms. The glass around you shatters and Wanda’s powers swirl all around you, before Natasha falls on her knees next to you. 

She’s talking, her lips are moving and tears begin to roll down her face the moment she blinks. 

She yells something over her shoulder, more people gather around you and Natasha is touching you, but you can’t feel it. 

I still love you, you want to tell her. 

I will always love you. 

She’s crying as she holds you, her sobs make her body shake as she speaks, but you can’t feel her touch and you can’t listen to a word she’s saying. 

You’re a monster. 

The memory flashes through your mind, hurting you even worse than all the wounds that are killing this human part of you do. 

She saw you capturing two rogue demons yesterday. They were hard to find, and ever harder to apprehend. They laughed at you, and you had to remind them who you are. 

You’ve never shown Natasha that side of you, not willingly anyway. She knows who you are, she knows the things that you do or used to do, because of being who you are. 

She also knows that you left everything for her, everything. You left your home, and stopped answering your father’s call for her. 

Your father warned you, of course. He said that loving someone like you wouldn’t be easy, and he was right. She was always going to see who you really are in your eyes, there’s no escaping it, there never really was. 

Now she cries, brokenly and desperately as you die. 

…

Your mother welcomes you back with nothing but joy. She’s prepared a feast for your arrival, and your siblings are eager to hear about the way you were tortured. 

Nothing compares to the things you see down here, of course, but it’s still entertaining for all of you. 

You go back to being who you were before you met Natasha, and you visit your daughter regularly although not wearing the same face twice. She’s growing into a beautiful young woman, brave and clever like her mother. 

Natasha doesn’t forget you, and she mourns your death for years. She regrets calling you a monster, not that it makes a difference after you’re gone. 

She tries to move on a couple of times, but nothing lasts. 

As for you, you never really move on from them, not even after their mortal time is up and they’re forever gone. 

… 

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://www.tumblr.com/brf-rumortrackinganon/765520008389574657/was-it-the-time-that-williamkp-leaked-how-meghan?source=share

But still won't erase the fact that he's ready to do everything for other people except for his wife.

Remember the dog bowl incident in Spare? He physically fought Harry because his staffs are getting mistreated but where is this energy for Kate?

William didn't have to make it obvious that after a decade Hilary Mantel continues to be right. Kate is just designed to sire an heir and now she's of no use because she's done with that.

Wow, someone who believes Harry's version of events as the full truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth when even Harry disclosed that he doesn't know what's true of his memory or not.

You must be new here because:

In 2012, William sued the pap and the magazine that published topless photos of Kate. At the time, Kate was on a private property and had a reasonable expectation of privacy to be topless in the first place.

In 2018, William threatened lawsuits when people began alleging that he was cheating on Kate.

In 2021, William confronted a pap that was stalking his family and scaring his children. The pap recorded the encounter and posted it online.

In 2015, William issued his own KP statement to protect Kate and then-baby George from paparazzi stalking and harassment.

In the 2000s, William dropped friends who invaded his and Kate's privacy and leaked about them to the press.

In 2015 and in 2022, William moved his family twice out of the fishbowl of central London, away from media and paparazzi harassment.

In 2020, William had Tatler edit a published article to remove an insulting reference to Kate and her family?

In 2018 and in 2019, William kicked Harry out of Kensington Palace and the Royal Foundation because of how he and Meghan were treating his family, in addition to his staff.

In 2018, William supported Kate's decision to pull Charlotte out of bridesmaid dress fittings for Harry's wedding.

In 2010, William is the one who insisted for The Queen and the BRF to include Kate's family as often as possible.

In 2024, William let Kate prioritize her health and not work during her chemo treatments and in her recovery.

In 2024, William leaked the hacking (or attempted hacking) of Kate's medical records to put everyone on notice.

In 2024, William stopped releasing his family's photographs to the media after the Mother's Day fiasco. They're now posted only to their official social media now, instead of distributed to the rota.

In 2021, William accompanied Kate to the elementary school the day after the Sussexes' Oprah interview aired in the UK. The event had been announced as, and was only ever expected to be, a solo Kate appearance and he joined her so she didn't have to handle the press or confront them by herself.

In 2014 when Charles's comments about the Middletons getting more time with George were leaked and published, William didn't change a thing about how he and Kate were raising George. He made Charles change his habits to fit in time with George.

Iin 2019 when a plastic surgeon claimed Kate was his boxtox patient and he was using her photos in his advertising, William had the palace intervene with a cease-and-desist. (I'll remind you: the issue here is not that they wanted to hide Kate's botox use, but that they wanted a doctor to stop fraudulently claiming she was his patient.)

And William insists on traveling with his family together instead of separately, per protocol. That's not a guy who finds his wife useful only to bear him children; that's a guy who can't picture his life without her. (And before you tell me "actually no, that's a guy forcing his wife to take care of their children because he can't be bothered," no, it's not, because if that was the case, then William would travel separately from all of them and require Kate travel with all the kids, but that is not the case, because William is on that same plane/helicopter/car with them.)

[calaisreno]

Cake

1146 words / Prompt: Laugh

Have some cake. It's my birthday.

Sherlock picks up his fork and examines the slice of cake before him. It’s yellow, with thick white icing and colourful sprinkles. 

John and Molly have already tasted their pieces and are talking about something. John makes a teasing remark about hearing aids. Apparently Sherlock has missed the question.

“Hm?”

John smiles at him. It’s a fond smile, but a sad one. Sherlock tries to remember the last time John looked happy. It’s been ages, he thinks. Even the smile on his face now isn’t truly happy. 

His wedding, maybe. He did smile a lot that day, but there was something ragged underneath. A kind of exhausted cheer. The days leading up the event were hectic, but it was worth it to give John and Mary a joyous day. Maybe it was relief Sherlock saw in those wedding smiles. Glad to have the big day go well, ready to wake up to a new life. 

The day Rosie was born, John’s smile was incredulous, full of wonder. But Sherlock could see he was terrified, too. It was the day it all became real, irrevocable. There was no going back for him and Mary. Nor for Sherlock. John was a father, and had responsibilities.

Unmingled joy. That’s what Sherlock is trying to remember. 

That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.

And you invaded Afghanistan.

It was the first time he heard John helpless with laughter. They’d stood inside the front door, leaning against the wall, giggling at the ridiculousness of what they’d just done, running through alleys and across rooftops. Welcome to London.

It was the moment when he first realised he wanted to kiss John. He wanted to hear that giggle of surrender again. To laugh every day with John and keep him forever.

It might have lasted, if Sherlock hadn’t created a problem that could only be solved by dying, leaving John alone for two years. 

He’d dreamed of coming home, hearing John laugh at his brilliant resurrection. He’d been so intent on that, he hadn’t realised. It may have been necessary to go away, but his return wasn’t as brilliant as he’d dreamed.

Well, then. Neither of them has been happy.

“You haven’t even tasted it,” John is saying. 

“Oh.” He lifts a bite to his mouth, smells vanilla, feels the icing melt on his tongue. “Delicious.” It is, and he takes another bite, even though he’s not hungry. 

John is smiling at him. 

He can’t stop thinking about John’s tears, just a half an hour ago in the flat. 

I’m not the man you thought I was. 

It’s not okay.

Well, it is what it is. John hasn’t been happy for a long time, he thinks. 

Though they never spoke of it, he knows John had mixed feelings about the marriage. A part of him loved Mary, but even though he forgave her, he never forgot:  what have I ever done… my whole life… to deserve you?

Mary wasn’t supposed to be like that. But she was. 

Sherlock wasn’t supposed to come back, but he did. 

John was supposed to be happy. He wasn’t.

Sometimes he thinks John might have been happy if Sherlock had stayed dead. He would have got over his best friend dying in front of him. He would have married and lived in the suburbs with his wife and child. His wife wouldn’t have shot Sherlock, and she wouldn’t have died, trying to protect him. He wouldn’t be raising his child alone. 

He eats his cake silently, pressing his fork into the last crumbs. 

“You’ve been quiet,” John says as they walk back to 221B. 

“Hm.” 

“About earlier… I’m sorry.” He huffs a small laugh. “Mood killer, for sure.”

He stops walking. “John.”

John is two paces ahead by the time Sherlock says his name. He turns and looks at Sherlock, puzzled. “What is it?”

“Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” He gives a short, bitter laugh. “What does happiness have to do with anything? Are you happy?”

“Well, no one can be happy all the time. But I consider myself an optimistic person. I expect I will be happy again.”

“Are you…” John licks his lips. “Will you contact her?”

“No. She knows what I am, and doesn’t expect it.”

“Sherlock, I know I was pushing when I said you should… I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want that. I just wish you weren’t so alone.”

“Not so alone. I have you.” 

Sherlock resumes walking; John falls into step with him.

“Yeah, a great friend I’ve been.”

“You’re not perfect, John. Neither am I. You shouldn’t hold yourself to an impossibly high standard. Happiness is more important. Do you know,” he says, turning to look at John, “some of my happiest moments have been spent with you.”

John sighs. “We’ve had some good times. I’ll never forget the months we lived together. You saved me. I was so lost, so alone…” Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles wistfully. “Do you remember that night, when we were chasing the cab, and I forgot my cane at the restaurant?” He giggles. “Oh, God. Down alleys, across the rooftops. Welcome to London. That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever done.”

Sherlock smiles. “Wanna see some more?”

“What are you saying?” John halts. 

Sherlock turns and faces him. “Come back. Move in with me, you and Rosie.”

John is gazing at him, his eyes soft. “Do you know what I wished for that night?”

“What did you wish, John?”

He looks down at his feet. “I wished… that I could spend the rest of my days running after you, trying to keep up. Giggling at crime scenes, running all over London, coming home and sitting in the evenings…” He sighs. “It can’t be like it was before. I have a child.”

“Another adventure I look forward to. We’ll hire a nanny, solve all the boring cases, and you’ll write them up for the blog. We’ll be together.” He puts his hands on John’s shoulders. “Come back to me.”

John shakes his head gravely. “You don’t know what you’re asking. Rosie’s a baby, and soon she’ll be toddling around, getting into everything.”

“That’s what babies do. They grow into children, and eventually leave home. And you’ll miss her then. I want to see her grow up, too. I want to be there when you send her off to uni. I want to help plan her wedding, hold your first grandchild. I want to retire to a cottage in Sussex with you and keep bees.”

“Bees?”

“Yes, John. Do keep up. If you don’t like bees, you ought to have plenty of cases to write up by then.”

John brushes tears from his eyes. “What are you saying?”

In answer, he puts his arms around John. “You said love would complete me as a human being. I’m saying, it already has.”

[primeofprimes115]

A Long Awaited Dance - (Bombshell) Supergirl x Male Reader

Note: Fluff 🥰

Based from the DC Bombshells Universe - Earth-24

Second of September 1945... The War had officially ended on all fronts, while the war between Germany and Britain ended in May fourth of the same year... The war on the rest of the countries officially ended on the second of September.

The Bombshells played a big part on the front, starting from 1940 during the war, the Bombshells were created and put together by Amanda Waller, an expert pilot, leader and the best at military protocol.

The Bombshells went all around the world at each time, Wonder Woman went to Berlin to make the Reich surrender, with all the events that transpired before hand, the world being invaded by strange forces on that other hand, it was all stopped in the end.

Though it came with a cost of Power Girl's and Superman's life, cloned from Supergirl's DNA in 1942, their sacrifices brought a victory that brought peace finally after six years. A victory sweeter than strawberries.

Kara Starikov had lost a lot during this war, Kortni; her sister, her family, and deemed a traitor by her own country; Soviet Russia. She vowed to protect the Motherland regardless, a promise she still kept when it was attacked eventually, she was raised in Soviet Russia, she grieved the loss of Power Girl and Superman but their memory would live on through her, she vowed it so.

Her sister Kortni aka Stargirl had sacrificed herself in 1941 within London, Britain where the bombings were taking place, a creature of pure power had threatened the entire city and world, the Bombshells soon responded to this threat. Kara wanted to sacrifice herself after she thought she was a danger to the world were she still alive, now deemed a traitor to Soviet Russia, her homeland, the only home and country she grew up in.

She knew she was special, her parents told her she came from the stars one night, within a strange mechanism like vehicle, she was their biological daughter, but they were her parents, they raised her alongside Kortni.

Returning from Russia, she flew all the way back to the US, to meet someone she had fallen in love with back in 1942, a special unit soldier that took unprecedented risks in his missions against the Axis Powers, a young man who travelled far and wide to assist the Allies, his name was Y/N L/N, his father served in WWII as a Sergeant, who unfortunately died in 1944 during the Allied Retaking of France, months after D-Day.

Kara was there for him when he grieved for the loss of his father, as he did when she lost her parents in 1942, during a altercation which they sacrificed their lives with the help of Swamp Thing to contain a threat that is still contained to this day, the Bombshells would answer to this Doomsday aka Faora-Ul if she were to escape one day and finish what was started in Leningrad.

Y/N was injured in March 6th, 1945, when a covert mission went wrong, resulted in him getting caught and captured by the Reich.

When word got out of Y/N's mission gone wrong, Supergirl went out of jurisdiction to find and bring the love of her life back from the front, alive. Flying out with a blaze of fury and determination to rescue him from the Germans, before eventually finding him, dismantling the Germans that had captured and tortured him for information, Y/N had bruises, cuts and had dried up blood all over him. He was malnourished too.

He remembered being relieved when Kara came to rescue him, she hadn't killed the Germans holding him prisoner but he swore she might've, based on how in bad shape he was, it was surprising he hadn't broke just yet. All he heard was shouting, shooting and screaming, Germans being thrown and punched while bullets bounced off her.

He remembered looking into the dark, seeing a pair of red glowing eyes approaching him before shutting off, returning to normal once Supergirl came into view, her red cape-like-scarf bundled-in-two flowing behind her like her skirt as she rushed up to him. Her soothing worried voice soon cutting him free and flying him out that day... All the way back to the US where he could be treated for his injuries.

He mumbled one word that day during the flight back to his country for medical care. And again said it once he awoke on the date, eighth of July, 1945 after being in a coma for months. Kara would make frequent visits to check on him and tell him about everything that was going on.

"Printessa" a word in Russian which meant Princess to her, it was a word he'd usually call her, other than "Solnyshko" for when they first met. Y/N was fluent in Russian and a few other languages, useful for infiltration and so fourth. The moment was tear-jerking for her, hearing his first word after being in a coma for months, his eyes had began to open following this while she hugged and cried happily in his shoulder, all that happened next was her sleeping with her head resting on his chest in the medical bay.

As of currently however, Supergirl flown herself back to see Y/N, the young man she fell in love with back in 1942. It had been a day since the war ended, Y/N was almost back to full health but still recovering, he wasn't clear for field work during the final days of the war like he hoped he would, which was nothing but unfortunate for himself.

In the home he was driven back to, his mother's home, Y/N sat on the chair, writing a letter to his friends who were still in the army, a newspaper on the table beside him, the big obvious title claiming that "THE WAR IS OVER", published from the Daily Planet in Metropolis.

Kara Starikov, Supergirl, thought about potentially being Metropolis's protector, it was a mere mention that sprang across his mind once his eyes laid upon the newspaper that was labelled by the Daily Planet. She had been thinking very hard about it since then, knowing she can't ever fully return to Soviet Russia, to Moscow, but she'd protect it as a watchful angel.

Soon enough after placing down his fountain pen and finishing writing the letter, he looked out to his window to see Supergirl landing just a few steps away from the door, before her eyes drifted to the window itself.

A big toothy smile grew upon her face while his came out as a smirk, she soon approached the door and knocked on it, knowing Y/N's mother was inside.

Kara couldn't keep her eyes off him after knocking on the door gently, the wind picking up her long, wavy blonde hair, the double sided scarf that acted as a cape billowing behind her along with her skirt, her big teething smile teasing him through the window.

Y/N couldn't either, her smile always seemed to distract him, let alone her face and beauty, she was the prettiest girl he had ever met, he hadn't known how pretty Russian girls really were until his eyes fell upon her in 1942, when he was given orders by the British to eliminate Dr. Hugo Strange who was in Leningrad at the time.

He ran into a few misfits during his mission, most notably Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Reaper aka Andrea Gruenwald and a Newspaper Girl named Eloisa Lane aka Lois Lane for short, who worked for the Daily Planet.

It turned out that Reaper wanted revenge on Hugo Strange for what he's done to her and Y/N's covert mission was to kill Strange, so the two worked together, with Lois tagging along, though Y/N had tried to convince her not to come with, since she was a civilian, however... Lois was pretty helpful and smart, convincing him to allow her to tag along... For now,

Eventually, he'd meet Kara Starikov aka Supergirl after he sabotaged Strange's security with Reaper's help, with Kara convincing Power Girl to turn against Strange, rescuing Steve Trevor next who was also captured besides Kara.

At a moments notice? When Y/N made himself known with helping Lois Lane out of the hidden window within the wall they climbed through, mentioning they were responsible for the power shortage in Strange's security. 

He fell in love...

Butterflies went through his stomach at a moments notice of her making eye contact with him, he felt his face heat up in that moment, he had heard about the Soviet's having a 'Superweapon' to be used for the War... But he didn't expect it to be a person, let alone... A beautiful young woman.

Y/N solely remembered that day... Where his life soon changed forever afterwards.

______________________________________________________________

[Flashback |Soviet Russia, Leningrad, 1942 | Strange's Laboratory]

"I.. Wow... Uh" Y/N looked at her speechless, while helping Lois out of the hidden window in the wall, noticing him looking at the 'Superweapon'. "Well... Originally we weren't meant to rescue you, I had no idea the weapon would be... A you" he rubbed the back of his neck, Lois helped Andrea out from the window in response, smirking away at the covert soldier's awkwardness. "I suppose it was a change of plans".

Y/N soon applauded the young woman's words toward the clone she was fighting, the things she made her realize, the woman soon softly smiled in his direction as he approached her, standing just slightly taller than her

"I'm... Uh..." Y/N found himself hesitant to even say his own name, though he went under the alias; Cobra, his name was mostly classified amongst all military personnel, knowing this... 'Superweapon' came from the Soviet Union, he felt... Sick about the fact the Soviets were wanting to use this young woman as a weapon due to her power.

"Have you forgotten your name?" the young woman giggled softly, still keeping her eyes on him, a light tint of pink rushed across his cheeks as he laughed softly. Steve Trevor took notice of this and stayed back for now, watching as this went down.

"No, no. It's Y/N... Y/N L/N" he brought his hand out and soon... She took it to shake it.

"And my name is Kara Starikov" she announced to him in her Russian accent, smiling at him as she shook his hand gently and respectively.

"But they call her..." Steve Trevor stepped into the conversation. "'Supergirl'" he announced to him, Kara still couldn't keep her eyes off him as he did the same, her warm smile taking shape as she blinked softly and slowly.

"Supergirl?" he questioned, a tinted smile appearing on the young man's face towards Kara.

"The Motherland originally called me that" her Russian nature explained it all, making him nod at her answer.

Y/N soon thought to himself, liking the name they had for her, though she admitted she never came up with the name. It was Russia that named her that "So... You're apart of the Bombshells, right? I heard about that group making a lot of moves recently, helping out with the war effort".

"{Yes}, I'm apart of the Bombshells, I defected the Communist Party, along with..." pain arose in her voice, before Power Girl came crashing in, ending the conversation... For now that was.

________________________________________________________________________________

[Present Day | US, West Virginia, 1945 | L/N American Household]

Y/N daydreamed on that day of being carried out by Kara when they first met, after she was able to fly again, dealing with the fact she lost her sister and as much as it pained her, she pushed on... In Kortni's name and love. Eventually telling him of the loss she recently suffered, about the fact the Communist Party deemed her a traitor since she wouldn't kill innocent lives in the name of the Soviet Union.

She felt her country was corrupt, she may love Russia as a country, but not the people in charge.

Soon enough, he could hear the front door opening with Kara joining her hands together in front of her.

"Hello Mrs. L/N, I... I'm here to see your son, Y/N" she hadn't met his mother yet, but he could see she was being awkward a little, not expecting to meet his mother without a proper introduction.

"Oh, you're the girl he told me about. Come in, come in!" his mother invited her in, happy to finally meet her. "Y/N!! Your woman is here!" the older woman shouted for her son in her London accent. As much as it felt embarrassing to hear her tell him about Kara's arrival. He felt his face heating up with embarrassment from the announcement alone.

His mother was told about Kara Starikov after he came home, though he was supposed to come back to check on her the year father was killed in the line of duty, they had grieved their loses after he came home to recover from being off the field.

"Might I say that you look absolutely gorgeous, young woman. My son must be lucky to have met you" Helen L/N's voice bloomed through the house, with the door in Y/N's room slightly opened, the music playing on his phonograph at a lower level as he was writing earlier.

"Oh, [thank you], but I thought I was lucky to have met him?" Kara replied, Helen looked at her funny however, not knowing what word she meant earlier as Kara realized what she said. "Oh, sorry! My mistake on that part, I-I said thank you in Russian. I'm sure he told you I was raised in the Motherland" her voice was closer to the door than it was earlier after being invited in.

"The Russian accent says it all, it's okay, Ms. Starikov" Helen nodded with a smile. "He's in there, writing. I'm sure he probably expected you".

"Oh, I'm sure he does" the Russian Bombshell smirked before Helen walked off back into the living room, to continue knitting. Kara on the other hand soon pushed the door open, seeing Y/N already stood up and his eyes falling on her.

"Kara, my Printessa" he smiled brightly, calling her by his many nicknames for her. the Bombshell that had rescued him on multiple occasions, especially the one where he was on the verge of death months back.

"Dorogoy!" a nickname (means Sweetheart in English) she'd call him time to time, she sped into his arms and planted her lips on his, with papers flying all about from his desk after she super sped up to him with a hug and kiss in mind.

Soon his arms wrapped around her waist as hers sprang around his upper back, her sleeve-gloved hands feeling and stroking the back of his head, her fingers running against his hair as he brings his arms up to her curly, long, blonde hair that drove down behind her and parted to the right hand side of her face, where his hands now felt the curls of her hair as their kiss continued.

"Mmm" a soft moan escaped Supergirl's throat after she felt Y/N tapped where her skin was showing from the shoulders and upper back twice, since she wore a corset for her overall attire as she's been wearing since 1940. "I missed you" her Russian accent whispered softly to him, an accent he missed hearing from the last few weeks since she last came to visit, now within the home where he mostly grew up in after moving her when he was young.

"So did I, Supergirl... So did I" he smiled as their foreheads gently collided, with their smiles brighter as the sun shining in the morning. "I heard the war is over, we won" Y/N soon brought up, Kara nodded with a hum before kissing him again for a few seconds, then both parties looked toward the newspaper lying on the floor, no thanks to Kara super speeding into the man's arms.

Kara unwrapped her arms from Y/N as he did the same, the Bombshell knelt down and picked up the newspaper with a 'oops' expression on her face, noticing the papers that had been flown around the place. Soon placing the newspaper on the table Y/N was working on earlier.

"I think I caused this?" she made it known to him as he chuckled about it, seeing the expression on her face.

"It's alright, Kara" he grabbed her by the hand gently with a consoling touch. "It's adorable when you... Do that fast speeding thing" he looked into her eyes, smiling right at her.

"If you say so" she batted her eyes toward him before floating off the ground to be a little taller than him, making him look up at her just a little which made him chuckle.

"For some reason my dear? I like it when you do that" he smiled right up at her before being pulled into a loving kiss that lasted for as long as he could take it, tapping her shoulder lightly when he needed some air after their lips continued to smack softly off each other for a minute.

"And for some reason, my Sakharok" the Bombshell pulled her lips back from his just slightly, whispering to him. "I knew you did, you would've said something already if you hadn't liked it" Kara's English sounded so surprisingly perfect still, for someone who was raised in Russia, she sure knew how to speak English fluently, even when she met him for the first time in 1942, though she's spoken English before hand, she was a quick learner.

Only Russian thing there when speaking English was her Russian accent, which Y/N found attractive at best. The two continued locking eyes as Y/N attentionally rocked side to side slightly to the sound of the music playing on the phonograph, the volume lowered down still. 

"I... Heard what happened, the invaders and all that" Y/N then brought up after the two exchanged looks and smiles. The Kryptonian woman's expression soon turned serious a little, knowing what he was going to ask.

"Did-"

"They died..." Kara interrupted abruptly, as Y/N's expression soon turned into shock.

"Kara..." he called her by name, as she looked away in a little bit of pain. "Power Girl and...".

"[Yes, they did]" she answered in Russian. "I brought their bodies back from space. Before she left, she told me not to grieve much, it was hers and Kal-El's choice, they did it for the Motherland" she then continued with her word, before thinking to herself, wanting to correct herself from what she said. "No, for the world, for Earth... For us".

"They were... A good bunch of people, great in the Circus as well" he noted, and Kara hummed in agreement.

"I'm going to miss their acts" Supergirl slightly smiled, looking into Y/N's eyes next before her boots made contact with the ground. "Their memory will live through me, as does Kortni's and my family's" she smiled at that fact.

"And mine? When my time eventually comes?" Y/N smirked as the Russian Bombshell looked at him with a frown.

"Don't say that you {Idiot!}" Supergirl pouted as Y/N smiled and laughed softly. "I don't get your humor sometimes, that's something very serious".

"Oh you're so pretty when you're all serious" he flirted. "It's such a gas" he smiled soon after again, making her roll her eyes and smiling back at him.

"And your mother said you were lucky to have me, I think I now see why" Kara soon replied, not thinking twice to break eye contact.

"I heard, and she's right in a way" Y/N nodded, agreeing with that statement. "I'm extremely lucky to have you, you've saved me plenty of times, helped me, rescued me months ago, and in return I've done the same. I'm lucky to have met a woman like you, and even luckier to be romantically involved with you for the last three years since we met. On that topic..." he stopped for a moment to smile at himself, it's been three years since they've been in a relationship. "I love you, Kara Starikov, Supergirl" 

"I love you too, Y/N L/N, {Cobra}" she said back to him with a teething smile, before the next song played on the Phonograph while the two kept their smiles toward each other and their hands intertwined. The fabric of Kara's sleeved-gloves caressing his hands gently and soothingly.

A jazz type of song, one that a dance worked best with, a song that felt perfect for the two of them, at least that's what Y/N thought soon as it came on. He began to rock side to side again slightly, with Kara taking notice again, laughing softly at his movements as Kara let go of his hands so he could walk over to the phonograph.

The young man decided to turn up the volume a little, so it's at a optimal sound, enough to hear it properly.

"Remember when I promised you a dance?" he asked her, turning around to face her while leaning on the table where the phonograph was. 

"Two years ago" she remembered. "I remember clear as day" she began to smile, she had the idea of dancing, the time she was dancing at the Ball Event in the train from Istanbul to Leningrad back in 1942 with Steve Trevor.

"Well... Since the war is over... And I'm able to move again..." he began to smirk. Hinting at the promise he gave her in 1943, which they never got the chance to do so. "May I have this dance?" he asked politely with Kara outstretching her arms and hands out to him.

"I'd be happy to dance with you!" she smiled, her hands out, reaching for his. She had waited so long to hear him ask the question. "I've been wondering when you'd ask" she exclaimed, laughing softly at him as he approached and took both her hands.

The next thing, she brought him toward her completely in a space where they could move more freely in his room, embracing one another with Kara's left arm wrapped around his back, the other holding his hand, his fingers intertwined with her sleeved-gloves that were fingerless.

Y/N's arm wrapped around her waist while the other was around her back, his fingers locked with her own other hand. The Supergirl and the Cobra slowly dancing to the rhythm of the music.

"How long I've waited for this" Y/N cooed to his lover, seeing a big smile grow on her face soon after he whispered to her, their eyes blinking slowly with a love behind it.

"All you had to do was ask, and I waited patiently... For you" she whispered back, her Russian thick Russian accent making her sound more attractive by the minute, every time he heard her speak, it was like he fell in love all over and over again, especially when she whispered.

Silence fell between them as they danced in the one spot slowly to the rhythm of the song, their eyes locked onto each other as they found themselves lost in their worlds together, a kiss soon followed up with it deepening like that one night back in 1944 when the two done the deed on a quiet night after seeing each other once again. Kara remembered that moment very well, the night she lost her virginity, and she felt good after it.

And so did Y/N...

"And who thought an American and a Russian couldn't go well together?" he whispered back to her, making her lightly giggle at his question. Her ocean like eyes not daring to look away from his eyes.

"That's such a stupid question" she giggled a little more as Y/N then twirled her around, spinning her in a slow, smooth moment. Kara began to delight herself in this dance with the woman in the song singing. Let alone... Delighting herself more with Y/N taking the lead. 

"Yeah, I guess it is" he rolled his eyes playfully, spinning her around again in the same smooth manner, slow and gentle, Kara's scarf-like-cape and skirt billowed around with the smooth turn as Y/N caught her next.

Supergirl then began to smirk, intertwining her hand with his free hand once again and pulled him close to her body with a little kiss on his lips. The little kiss ended with Y/N giving Kara a surprised look before he smiled. Impressed by the sudden move.

"Good move, very romantic".

"That was good?"

"Yeah, it was a good move, the kiss made it way better" he praised her again.

Kara's blue eyes glistened toward his, like the ocean on a beach, swaying and moving. Her smile bright as the sun, her face prettier than a garden of flowers, her hair that would wave like a golden cape, she was perfect in his eyes. Though she'd highly disagree on that.

The music had drawn the attention of Helen L/N, wondering why the sudden music being turned up earlier, only to see both her son and his woman, Kara Starikov, Supergirl, dancing slowly.

Helen soon smiled at the two through the gap in the door after Kara slightly closed it earlier after entering, Helen wished Y/N's dad were still here to see this, Y/N had his father's looks after all, him dancing with Kara.

The older woman soon left the two alone without interruption, letting them delight in the dance as Y/N thought of something to talk about while their dance continued.

"Y'know... I do wonder what's next in store for us, what's next for us in the future" he brought up to her attention. "I've always wondered about it".

"I don't know, but whatever it is... We'll face it together" she said with a smile.

"Aren't you... Kinda scared?" he asks her with a curious look.

"I mean, it's okay to be scared, you never know what's going to happen" she said wisely. "Steve told me that... Before he...".

Y/N nodded his head, knowing what happened to Steve Trevor, how he died a hero. It was a hard-struck blow to the Allies and Bombshells alike.

"Yeah... I get where you're coming from" he smiled through the pain of loss, Steve Trevor was a good soul, a wise man, one that would be honored as time goes by. "A lot of good people gone, price of war".

"How long do you think that will last?" Kara brought up. "The Great War was only... Twenty-seven years ago, I came to know about the Great War when I learned how the Motherland is today, how it was born" Kara expressed her worries, showing concern for the world itself. "How long until peace is no more?".

"I... Don't think we should worry about that right now" he expressed, freeing his hand from her to caress her face, feeling how soft it was. "Whatever happens, my dear Solnyshko, I will always stick by your side, no matter what happens, nothing is going to tear us apart from each other" he vowed, soon making her smile softly once again.

"{Good}" she said in Russian, before pulling her face closer to his. "As long as we're together" she whispered in his ear, giving him a little wink after pulling back. Their dancing continued slowly with the rhythm.

"On that note..." he spun her around slowly and smoothly again, catching her before spinning her around, she stepped in and lightly pressed herself against his body, dancing to the song slowly with a delighted demeanor. "You still thinking on returning to Moscow?" he asked a good question, one he's still waiting for her answer on as she thought about it.

"Yes... I think it could be for the best... For now at least, but... I don't know if..." she was about to mention the tension between the US and USSR that could happen, regarding the end of the war, she had overheard talks about it all with her super hearing.

A part of herself did not want to be propaganda again, or to be used as a weapon against anyone for that matter alone, she still hasn't forgotten what the Russian leadership tried to make her and Kortni do to innocent Russians back in 1940, leading to them fleeing the country with their mother but failed to rescue their father in time, since he got captured and placed into the Gulag afterwards, 

But again... Russia was her country, it was her homeland, perhaps she could be a watchful angel over Russia, protecting it from any form of criminals or something else entirely, to keep the citizens safe.

"If something were to happen... Then... They'd want to use me as a weapon like they tried to do to me and Kortni, they could even-".

"If it does happen, Kara? We can just... Leave" he interrupted her, trying to keep her from worrying too much. "We don't have to get involved... Unless it's a very, very serious matter, like another destructive war from happening" he then made a mental note to himself and her.

"Maybe..." she said with a worried look still. "But run or fly away again?" she asked.

"I know it sounds... Discreet and dumb, I get that. But... I want to build a life with you also, it's an idea to have backups if things turn... Sour, if you understand what I mean" Kara soon nodded her head, turning slowly and rocking side to side with him slowly as they danced in the one spot together.

The Supergirl then began to smile at one part she picked out from Y/N's wording. That he wants to build a life with her, and in her vision? So did she, she wanted this to happen, she was the first to kiss him after all back in December of 1942

"I also want to build a life with you too" she drew her face closer to his once more, batting her eyes toward him. "I remember Faora mentioning something about the crystal necklace I came to Earth with, mentioning it would do something incredible when it contacted ice, like the ice in the North Pole, the Arctic you called it" Kara brought up a previous encounter with Faora back in 1942 before she turned herself into Doomsday, a hybrid at least. "I've always wondered what it would do".

"Hmm" the Cobra hummed a thought, thinking of a potential idea what they could do together, to discover if what Faora said was true back in 42. "How about we discover that... Tomorrow? You and I" he offered as she smiled funnily.

"I thought you weren't cleared for duty?" she asked with a curious smile.

"Who says I need to be cleared for duty? It's not like we're going on a covert mission, right?" the pair still rocked side to side, slowly turning in the same spot still as Y/N's question repeated in Kara's head as she thought for the minute, her eyes off of him to think so she couldn't get too distracted.

"{You're right}" she smiles after thinking, taking up on his offer. "On one condition" she locked eyes with him next.

"What would that be, my dear?" he smirked.

"Can I stay over? It's... Been a while since I last awakened beside you... In a more comfortable spot" she eyed the bed for a moment's notice before looking back at him.

"I'm sure my mother would be fine with that, I'll ask her, highly doubt she'd say no, think she already likes you" he nodded in agreement with a smile still on his face. "But... Let's enjoy the dance, I've been wanting this for a long time".

"I agree" she nodded. Before kissing him softly, her lips were soft like a cushion, pressing against his gently, with Y/N deepening the kiss by melting into her lips, the soft, smacking sounds overlapped by the music still playing as they slowly danced.

"I love you, Kara Starikov" Y/N pulled back slightly to communicate, both smiling softly.

"I love you too, Y/N L/N".

🎵 It's Been a Long, Long Time...🎵

______________________________________________________________

Fin...

Word Count: 5434

[magics-neptunes-things]

Christmas Cooking

Hi guys!

Here is one with this sweet cutie pie that is Lia :)

This one is shorter but please enjoy it!

TW : None

Your girlfriend is, in your humble opinion, the most lovely and cute person in the world. Before you even found the courage to propose her a date, you always had this soft spot for her. The way her eyes shine when you accept one of her demands or the falsehoods digging in her cheeks make you simply unable to refuse her anything.

And God knows how much your teammates tease you about it. But over time you’ve made a point and accepted your destiny. You're so wiped about your girlfriend.

So, when Lia asks you with a baby pout if you can make Christmas cookies this afternoon, she doesn’t need to use all her persuasion to make you agree. You both live in London a few hundred meters from each other, but Lia took you in her suitcase when she returned to Switzerland to her family.

After a visit to the Swiss supermarkets, Chocolat's paradise, you gathered the necessary ingredients and found yourself wearing an apron and a dispenser to prepare the dough.

The kitchen is quite a mess to be honest. There is floor everywhere, an impressive number of plates and utensils in the shrink. You somehow lose the scissors and you can't remember why your shirt is wet.

"Baby stop eating the dough" Lia laughs, clapping your hand away.

"Wasn’t me" you answer, mouth full of said dough.

Lia laughs again before focusing again on the recipe book. She must still be one of the only people to follow a recipe on a book, but it is also for this kind of singularity that you fell in love with her.

"Sugar" she asks you, reaching out without leaving the book with her eyes.

You hesitate to tease her once again, before deciding to be wise and to give her the bowl of sugar that you weighed carefully earlier. Lia saw things big, wanting to prepare three different kinds of dough. But she seems to be having a good time and you’re having a lot of fun too, to be fair.

"Milk, Pretty, please"

Once again, Lia reaches out and this time you don't resist. With a big smile, you press your face on her hand.

"You’re unbearable" Lia laughs, putting a tender kiss on your lips.

"You love me" you answer maliciously, holding out the milk.

"That I do"

A few dozen minutes later, several cookie are in front of you and have cooled enough for you to decorate them. You spend a long time preparing your trees, adding green dye and Smarties as Christmas balls. Lia is more adventurous and you are amazed by her talents as a cookie decorator.

When you are done, you clean the worktop before washing your hands and try to get rid of the green dye that has invaded your hands. You’ll soon be able to play the Grinch. When you are done, your eyes are once again drawn to your girlfriend who is always focused on her cookies.

She has red dye on her cheek and hair that escapes from the ponytail that she made so as not to be disturbed while cooking. She is focused on her work, tongue pulled to the side. You don't resist the urge to put yourself behind her, passing your arms around her waist to put a tender kiss on her cheek.

"You’re so cute" you whisper in her ear, smiling as she shivers.

You just have to put a kiss behind her ear to distract her and make her look at you.

"You are a real inconvenience"

Her harsh fake tone doesn't work and you laugh maliciously and squeeze her against you. Lia soon smiles in turn, turning entirely in your arms to steal a kiss before returning to work. You remove the red stain from her cheek with your fingers, staying still to let her finish. You’re actually almost mesmerized by the way she decorated her cookies.

If one of you gets hurt too badly to continue football, you can always switch back to it.

********

YourInstagram and Liawaelti

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YourInstagram Preparing my (hopefully distant) future profesionnal conversion

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jbeattie91 Save me some! ↳ YourInstagram Sure! ↳ liawaelti She already eat all of them ↳ YourInstagram Traitor

[blueiscoool]

2,000-Year-Old Roman Mausoleum Unearthed Near London Bridge

No burial artifacts were recovered from the structure itself, but the surrounding area yielded over 80 Roman burials containing copper bracelets, coins, glass beads and a bone comb.

A "completely unique," 2,000-year-old Roman mausoleum that has emerged from the rubble of a development site in central London is the most intact ever discovered in the U.K.

The monumental tomb — of which low walls, entrance steps and interior flooring remain — is bejeweled with two mosaics composed of small red tiles, each featuring a flower enclosed in concentric circles. More than 100 coins were also strewn across the tomb's floor.

Archeologists only found the second mosaic when they dug beneath the first one. This indicates the mausoleum floor was raised at least once while it was still being used for burials, they said.

The discovery, which is nestled within the city's central Southwark area, "provides a fascinating window into the living conditions and lifestyle in this part of the city in the Roman period," Antonietta Lerz, a senior archeologist at The Museum of London Archeology (MOLA), said in a statement.

Roman invaders under Emperor Claudius founded London, or Londinium, around 47 A.D. and ruled the city through to the early fifth century, when dwindling military resources and incursions across the rest of the empire forced their withdrawal from Britain.

The recent excavation bears the marks of this decline. "This relatively small site in Southwark is a microcosm for the changing fortunes of Roman London — from the early phase of the site where London expands and the area has lavishly decorated Roman buildings, all the way through to the later Roman period when the settlement shrinks and it becomes a more quiet space where people remember their dead," Lerz said.

The mausoleum would have originally housed coffins and other burial artifacts, according to the statement, but none were recovered from the structure itself. However, the excavation site around the monument yielded Roman-era items belonging to more than 80 burials, including copper bracelets, glass beads, pottery and a bone comb.

Archeologists will now examine these recovered items to better understand central London's Roman past.

Only the wealthier members of society would have had access to the mausoleum, which may have been used as a family tomb or belonged to a "burial club," requiring a monthly fee to secure a future grave, according to the statement.

What remains of the structure indicates that it was a two-story building with large buttresses in the corners for support. The high walls were probably dismantled for reuse elsewhere during the medieval period. Inside, a raised platform cemented with pink mortar containing crushed bits of pottery and brick — a widely used Roman building material known as "opus signinum" — designates where the burials would have taken place around three sides of the mausoleum.

The discovery follows that of a 26 foot (eight meter) long Roman mosaic — the largest unearthed in London for more than 50 years — in February 2022. The newly excavated mausoleum will be put on public display once construction has concluded, according to the statement.

By Sascha Pare.

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: Chapter 10

Chapter 9

♡———♡

The moment I tried to hastily pull away, he firmly clasped my waist and placed me on his lap, smiling broadly.

Alfons: See…it’s all the carriage’s fault that you’re getting so worked up in this place…

(......ngh--)

Alfons: This position is nice... It's easier to pamper your good parts.

Kate: Nngh, let go... I'm going back to my seat--

Alfons: ...No, I won't let go.

He unties the ribbon behind my neck and my blouse slides down my skin.

Before I could resist, he takes the initiative and quickly ties my hands together behind my back.

--CHOICES--

I continue to resist

I beg him to stop

I give up

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

Kate: Ah, let go, Alfons...

The voice that came out was so sweet and melting that even she could tell it betrayed her words.

Alfons: Don't let go, do more... That's what I hear you saying.

Alfons: Am I right?

Kate: Ah...

The carriage jolted again and my body fell forward, pressing my breasts against Alfons' face.

Kate: Ah...!?

My blouse had already slipped off, exposing my bra right in front of him.

Alfons: Oh my... what a troublesome carriage, isn't it?

When my bra was pushed aside, the tips of my breasts swayed and spilled out.

Right in front of me, Alfons' red tongue touches the spot---

Kate: Ah, ah, ah....!

His teasing caresses made the places where our bodies touched throb with a feverish heat.

Alfons: Let's make you feel very good until we get back to the castle... Kate.

I meant to shake my head.

But the carriage jolted again - my head bobbed up and down.

Inside the carriage, rushing through the London streets under the gaslight, I continued to sway on his lap.

-

--The next morning, when I went to the dining room, it was still empty.

(I'm glad I woke up early. No one's here yet...)

I was relieved and took a bite of toast without butter or jam.

I didn't have the mental capacity for that this morning, and I'm sure anything would taste the same anyway.

(It's all Alfons' fault.)

(I feel like my reality is being invaded by Alfons more and more.)

(Even though I wasn't being shown an illusion, yesterday too...)

Thinking with a cool head in the morning, I could only say that I was completely "swept away."

(I never did find out if Alfons was really enjoying himself...)

In the end, I was the only one who felt good until we got to the castle, and I didn't have the energy to do anything about him, nor did he try to use me to satisfy his desires.

I try to remember his expression, but all I can recall is his bewitching smile, his sweet, hot tongue peeking out from his mischievous lips, and his upturned eyes that looked incredibly sexy when he occasionally lowered them.

Remembering all this, there was no way I could calmly analyze what his true intentions were.

(...Just thinking about it makes my face hot.)

Ellis: Kate, your face is red. Are you okay?

Kate: Huh!? Oh, yes, I'm fine...!

I turned around in surprise and saw Ellis sitting next to me.

(Wh... when did he get here? I must be in pretty bad shape if I didn't notice...)

Further back, I saw Jude reading the newspaper.

(It's unusual for these two busy people to be at the castle in the morning.)

Our eyes met briefly, and I greeted him with a light "Good morning."

But Jude just glanced at me in disgust and immediately turned back to his newspaper.

Jude: Leave her alone. She's probably thinking about something stupid anyway.

Ellis: If you're not feeling well, don't push yourself.

Kate: Yeah... thanks.

(I can't say anything...)

I'm sure my head was full of dirty thoughts this morning.

I feel guilty and apologetic, and I'm becoming unbearable.

Alfons: Oh my, are you feeling ill?

Kate: Eek!?

Arms slipped around me from behind in an embrace, and my body jumped in surprise.

Alfons: Let me take your temperature.

Kate: Ah, ah, Al... Alfons...

I turned around and my forehead bumped against his, and he peered into my eyes.

(So, so close!)

My face grew even hotter.

Alfons: Hmm, this is serious. Would you like me to give you an injection?

Kate: No, I'm fine, I don't need it!

Alfons: Don't say that. You're going to be my exclusive Fairytale Keeper, aren't you?

-That was a promise I did make last night.

(But to say it here...!)

Alfons: Then you need to be healthy.

Alfons: You know I like to go out at night. You won't be able to keep up if you don't have the stamina.

I can't see because my vision is filled with Alfons, but I wonder how Ellis and Jude are reacting at the breakfast table.

(But these two wouldn't talk to anyone else about it...)

Harrison: Huh? Who's exclusive to who?

Kate: ...!

(Harrison, Roger...!)

I was planning to just eat my toast and go back to my room, but it seems like it's become breakfast time before I knew it.

(And of all days, everyone is actually on time for breakfast...)

It's a healthy thing and all, but honestly, I just want to throw away my toast and run away right now.

Ellis: Kate wants to be Al's exclusive Fairytale Keeper.

Harrison: Huh? What's that, seriously?

Alfons: Yes, yesterday Kate expressed her desire to be my exclusive Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: Oh really? From yesterday to today, you've gotten yourself into quite a deep situation, haven't you, lil lady?

William: Wanting to spend all day and night together is quite a passionate proposal.

Victor: Huh? Who's exclusive to who?

Harrison: ...Could you not repeat my words exactly?

Oh, right. I need to apologize to Roger for yesterday...

While I was trying to escape reality like that, the members of Crown appeared one after another, and the dining hall, which was quiet until a while ago, became completely lively.

Alfons: This means we're officially a couple, aren't we?

Kate: Um, maybe "exclusive" was a bit reckless...

Alfons: No way! I was so happy, was it a lie...?

(Wha...!? )

Elbert: ...What's wrong?

Elbert appeared, tilting his head curiously.

Alfons: El, I'm going on a little heartbreak trip, so don't look for me.

Alfons turned away from Elbert and wiped away fake tears.

Elbert: ...? ...Okay. ...If you're coming back properly.

Liam: Huh, Al is going somewhere?

Liam also appeared, and all the members of Crown were gathered in the dining hall.

Roger: If Al is gone, Liam won't have anyone to vent to.

Harrison: El's collecting habits and diet are also going to be a mess.

Elbert: ...When will the pain of lost love heal?

Like a game of telephone, the wrong information spread that I rejected Alfons and he's going on a heartbreak trip.

William: ...The peace of Crown Castle seems to depend on you, Kate.

Kate: Ugh...

Alfons is still crying on Elbert's shoulder.

(Even though they're clearly fake tears...!)

If he left, I had a feeling he wouldn't come back for a few days, just to sulk.

Kate: ...Ugh... No more...!

I sighed, reached out, and grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

Kate: I, it's not, a lie...

Kate: I'll take on the role of your exclusive Fairytale Keeper...

Alfons: ...Oh really?

There were no traces of tears on his face when he turned around.

He smiled and rested his cheek on the back of my chair.

Alfons: No, I can't believe it. Say it more cutely and apologetically.

Kate: Don't get cocky!

Alfons: I'm not getting cocky. I'm just testing your sincerity.

(This guy...!)

Unable to respond, I opened and closed my mouth, and Alfons looked down at me and smiled.

Alfons: Ah... You really are cute, aren't you?

Kate: ...

(This smile... is real.)

(Alfons' real smile.)

He's definitely enjoying teasing me from the bottom of his heart.

(Even just seeing this, maybe it was worth being teased...)

(No, no, I don't think that!)

The warmth in my chest from his happy smile is probably, surely, because of the illusion of love that was planted twice.

-

A few days later --

Alfons: Hey, hey, exclusive Fairytale Keeper. If you don't follow properly, you'll lose sight of me.

Kate: Wait a minute... Where are we going today?

Alfons: Hmm, where could it be?

Led by the hand, I walked through the streets of London alongside him.

Along the way, he wanted to hear stories from my time as a mail carrier in the city, and I told him whatever came to mind.

The story of how a single letter led me to run through London at dawn.

The story of how I agonized over the wording of a love letter with a girl who wanted to send one but didn't know how to write it, even though I had never written one myself.

Alfons: It must have been an exhausting daily routine, facing each person so seriously.

Kate: That's...

???: Ah! The mail carrier lady!?

(Huh...?)

I looked towards the street and saw a familiar girl staring at me with a surprised expression.

Alfons: Who is this?

Kate: Th-that's the girl from the love letter story I was just talking about...

As I was surprised by the coincidence, she whispered something to the man next to her and then ran towards me.

Girl with braids: Um, this is the guy I gave the love letter to! We're dating now...!

Kate: Really!? Congratulations!

Her smile was truly happy, and I couldn't help but smile too.

Girl with braids: Thank you... I'm so happy now thanks to you.

Girl with braids: I just wanted to say thank you... Sorry to interrupt your date...!

Kate: D-date!?

Before I could say it wasn't a date, the girl ran back to her lover.

Alfons: Was she really that troubled by a single love letter? She was like a whirlwind, though.

Kate: Haven't you heard? Everyone becomes timid when they fall in love...

Kate: About what you said earlier... about not getting tired of facing each person individually,

Kate: Sometimes, I get to share in this kind of happiness... so it's not bad to get tired.

As I watched the girl disappear into the crowd, I turned around and met Alfons' gaze, mixed with exasperation.

Alfons: ...You really are,

Alfons: Foolishly straightforward, aren't you?

His eyes narrowed with a hint of fondness, and my heart skipped a beat.

(...When he looks at me like that,)

(I feel uneasy...)

I couldn't help but look away.

Alfons didn't seem to mind and started walking again, towards an unknown destination.

Alfons: But doesn't it often go unrewarded?

Kate: ...Yes. It's true, I don't have enough power to grant everyone's wishes.

Kate: Even in the case just now, I could deliver the love letter,

Kate: But I can't do anything about the other person's feelings.

As I walked beside Alfons, I wove my words, scooping up the feelings from when I used to run around with letters in my arms.

Kate: But if I can be of even a little help by delivering those feelings... that makes me happy.

Kate: ...It might be self-satisfaction, but

Kate: Isn't that the same for you, Alfons?

Those words suddenly slipped out of my mouth.

Alfons: ...Me?

Kate: Using your abilities indiscriminately, that... having those kinds of relationships with various people,

Kate: You say it's for your enjoyment, but...

Kate: The smiles I saw in the slums, the smiles I saw at the pub, they didn't look happy at all.

Kate: I thought that maybe the act itself wasn't enjoyable for you.

Alfons: ...

Kate: Even if you don't have the power to change reality,

Kate: Even for a little while, even just a little bit,

Kate: I wondered if giving someone a place to escape to would make you happy, Alfons...

Kate: ...Does it?

(...)

(So, I...)

(That's why I didn't think it was the worst thing, even when you behaved in such an unethical and outrageous way.)

(I was just a little empathetic with Alfons.)

Alfons: ...It's disappointing to hear that I don't seem to be enjoying myself.

Alfons: I live to enjoy myself.

Alfons smiled evasively.

(He still won't tell me his true feelings. But...)

What I said just now felt like a clear truth to me.

Kate: ...If you won't answer, that's fine. I'll just assume that's how you feel.

Alfons: You're a strange person. Why are you so obsessed with my motives?

Kate: That's because...

(...)

(Why is that?)

I cling to this small amount of empathy because I want to understand him.

I want to understand him because I want to know the "truth."

But then why do I cling to his "truth"?

I feel confused, as if I'm being questioned about my own feelings.

(That's because...)

As I search for an answer by looking into his gray eyes, he also looks into mine.

Alfons: -- I'm also curious about something.

Kate: ...? What is it...?

Alfons: I wonder how I look in your eyes when we're indulging in pleasure together.

Kate: ...Huh?

His sudden question took away all my thoughts.

Alfons: Do I look bored? Do I look unhappy? Do I look like I'm not enjoying myself?

Kate: W-well, it's...

Just like in the dining hall, my cheeks heat up when I try to remember.

Kate: When we're doing that, I'm not really... looking at you...

Kate: Well, I still don't understand...

I honestly confess, stammering.

Alfons: ...Ah-ha.

With an oddly cheerful laugh, he raised a crooked smile to his lips as if to say I was foolish.

Alfons: "Still" don't understand...

Alfons: You know that's the same as saying you "want to be sure," right?

Kate: ...?

Alfons: Why don't you try to be sure again today?

Alfons: But... enjoy a more healthy date before that.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 10 Premium Story

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[scotianostra]

On October 26th 1640 The Treaty of Ripon was signed, restoring peace between Scottish Covenanters and Charles I of England.

This was a second brief war between Charles I of England and the Scots.

Charles I summoned Parliament (The Short Parliament), in order to raise an army against the Scots. The Scots invaded northern England, won a battle at Newburn on the Tyne and occupied Northumberland and Durham.

It all stemmed from the King attempting to impose a new prayer book on the Scots, remember Jenny Geddes chucking her stool in St Giles shouting “Deil colic the wame o’ ye! Out thou false thief! Dost thou say the mass at my lug?” (“The devil give a colic to your stomach! Out you false thief! Dare you say the mass at my ear?”). It wasn’t so much the prayer book itself, it was Charles trying to enforce Episcopacy or High Anglican system North of the border, this would have seen him taking control of church land and taxing it, the Presbyterians also so the English system as too close to Catholicism.

The First Bishops War ended in The Pacification of Berwick in June 1639, when Charles sent an army north, who didn’t really want to go in the first place, they got to Berwick, saw the size of the Scottish and army and decided they didn’t want to fight. An inconclusive treaty was hurriedly put together and everybody went home

A year later Charles, still brooding over his climb down, was determined to subdue the Covenanters by force and persuaded the English Parliament to finance an army of Irishmen, as well as trying to conscript men from the southern counties of England, they had no appetite for a fight though and the men he mustered were mainly untrained and poorly-disciplined, many of the southern levies deserted on the march to the north. Others were prone to mutiny: two officers found to be Catholics were lynched by their own men, who then dispersed. Violent disorders were reported from all parts of England that the levies passed through. By August 1640, the King's forces had mustered in Yorkshire and Northumberland, most of them poorly-armed, unpaid and underfed. The Irish army was not ready in time to take part in the campaign against Scotland.

In stark contrast the Scottish Covenanter army had remained in arms after the First Bishops' War and, with another war imminent, new levies were quickly raised. By early August 1640, the Covenanter army massed on the border with England was around 20,000 strong with an artillery train of sixty guns. Some of them were fresh from a six-week expedition pillaging and burning the lands of Royalist clans in the Highlands. Once the Scottish Royalists had been subdued, they besieged Dumbarton as a precaution against the possibility of Strafford's Irish army landing in western Scotland.

In August Leslie thwarted the English defensive preparations by simply bypassing the well-defended town of Berwick and marching straight for Newcastle and the rich coalfields that supplied London with coal. As the King hurried north to York, the Scots arrived at the outskirts of Newcastle on 27th August, a day later they soundly beat the ill-prepared English at the Battle of Newburn, Newcastle soon surrendered, most of Northern England was now in Scots hands.

The morale of the English army stationed in Yorkshire collapsed after the defeat at Newburn. On 24th September, King Charles summoned a Great Council of Peers at York — a revival of an institution that had not been used since the reign of Edward III. The Council almost unanimously advised the King to negotiate a truce with the Scots and to summon another Parliament in England. While the Council of Peers continued to sit in York, English and Scottish commissioners met at Ripon in October 1640 to negotiate a treaty.

The Treaty of Ripon was signed - A cessation of hostilities was agreed. Negotiations for a permanent settlement were to be negotiated. Meanwhile, the Scottish army was to occupy Northumberland and Durham, exacting an indemnity of £850 a day from the English government for its quarter; furthermore the Scottish government was to be reimbursed for its expenses in prosecuting the war against England.

In the end it forced Charles I to summon the Long Parliament, which in turn led to the English Civil War. The king had lost control of the situation, it eventually led to him losing his head, literally.

[houseofsnarry]

💚 HoS Mods Recs ❤️

Cause, why not? photo source

Summer is coming to an end, and autumn will be here soon. Seasons change, years pass us by, but Snarry is here to stay. The following brought us some joy and hopefully it'll bring you guys some joy, too.

Art

🎨 @ofnightsndsongs - Spicy Polaroids Rated E

🎨 @flymetosnarryland - Muggle London Rated E

🎨 @ac1d6urn - The Bravest Man Rated T

🎨 @danipantsu - Tailormade Rated G

Podfic

🎙️Things We Wish For by @avioleta (AO3) Podfic by JocundaSykes Rated E, 2 hours

Harry blinks. Blinks again. It doesn’t make sense. It’s simply not possible. But yet… “Snape?” It’s not the Snape Harry knows or remembers. Not the Snape Harry grieved. But he would know that face, that profile, those eyes anywhere. “What happened?” he manages. “How are you here?”

🎙️ World Enough, and Time by @likelightinglass (AO3) - a Podfic Podfic by Cailynwrites Rated T, 40 minutes

Soulmate clocks start ticking when you first lock eyes, and count down until your time with them is over. Harry’s starts ticking on September 1st, 1991. He has only six years, eight months, and one day.

Fic + Art

🌸 The Curse of Anteros - @danpuff-ao3 (AO3) / @mrviran (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 53k

When Harry is cursed, he seeks out Severus Snape. They have a long history behind them, after all, and they've always had so much between them. Who else would he go to?

🌸 A Step into the Light - @givereadersahug (AO3) / @gullibert (AO3) / @dandelionstars (AO3) Rated NR, Word Count 10k

Severus Snape is now a free man. He fills his time travelling the world, collecting potion ingredients, and helping Luna with her business. The thing is, Severus has a gift. No, not potions or the Dark arts. He can see mushi, creatures that show up from time to time. Severus knows how to help them and the humans that come into contact with them. This time, their travels take them to an island off the coast of Japan, to a man sitting on a log, staring out into the ocean and waiting for his wife to return home. Inspired by the anime Mushishi. A retelling of Season 1, Episode 8. For the Snape Bang 2022.

🌸 The Ugliest Veela - Octroman Rated E, Word Count 60k

Snape is part-veela. It is interfering with his dating life. Post-war, Severus Snape finds himself in a life without purpose. In a desperate bid for the family he always wanted, he subjugates himself to a matchmaking service in hopes to find an acceptable partner. However, it is mandatory to disclose veela status in order to use the premiere matchmaker of the old family houses. Wrinkled, sallow, oily, big-nosed, and bony, Severus shows up for a string of horrific dates where potential partners expect him to be both gorgeous and enchanting. “I thought veelas were supposed to be beautiful!” Cue the jokes. How much humiliation can Severus stand? --------------------------------------- Illustrated chapter titles and crafted with love.

Fic

📚 A Series of Events - @babygray (AO3) Rated M, Word Count 67k

In January, the impossible occurred. It took Severus until April to realize just what that was, and to believe. Snarry Mpreg, takes place during Half-Blood Prince.

📚 A Trick of the Mind - @vulnerasanenturmyprince (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 40k

Ever since the horcrux in his head is gone, Legilimency comes easy to Harry. It’s nearly laughable how easy it is, considering how much he used to struggle with it back in his fifth year. But he reckons half of that had been Snape’s fault anyway. Who on earth would enjoy the nasty git invading their mind? But as life as Harry has known it changes, Harry’s opinion on the matter changes with it ― rather drastically so if he’s being perfectly honest.

📚 Blowing Smoke - DawnOfTomorrow Rated E, Word Count 231k

Harry doesn't care about Snape beyond having to sit detentions with the man despite being of age. He doesn't. He asks him out for a drink just to get out of detention. So what if it's... nice? So what if they become friends? So what if Snape *is* lonely? It's not Harry's problem - at least not until he realises he's accidentally befriended the man, and just how much he cares for Snape. Well, shit.

📚 Close Encounters - @bleedcolor (AO3) & @likelightinglass (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 35k

Years after the war, Harry Potter and Severus Snape meet and fall in lust, then love. Too bad they don’t know who they’ve fallen for.

📚 Curatio - @serenaew (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 12k

curatio, onis, f noun 1. healing/curing 2. object of care 3. treatment, surgical operation, medical care

At the foot of the Whomping Willow, there lay an injured kingfisher. Now with moodboard (chapter 2)!

📚 Date In A Dash - @silvereye5 (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 16k

Harry and Severus accidentally attend the same speed dating event.

📚 Fuck, Marry, Kill - @titconao3 (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 13.2k

After the war, Harry Potter and Severus Snape, er, fuck sometimes. You know, it just happens; it's one of these things. They're not in a relationship, right? They're not like that. ...Until they are, but only one of them can see it.

📚 Gold Like Ichor, Gold Like Magic - @dandelionstars (AO3) Rated M, Word Count 26k

Seven years after Harry James Potter was left unceremoniously on the doorstep to Number Four, Privet Drive, Vernon Dursley was offered a promotion and the whole family had to move to Cokeworth, England. While Dudley is off terrorizing the local children, Harry spends his days in the school library and finds a fast friend in Ms. Eileen Prince. From Cokeworth to Hogwarts and back again, this is a story about the friendship, the magic, and the love that can be found in the unlikeliest of places, if only one bothers to look.

📚 Hawthorn Branches in Spring - zalil Rated T, Word Count 37.5k

Harry returns to Hogwarts to finish school properly and sit for his NEWTs. He doesn't expect Snape to be back teaching, nor their old animosity to resurface. When it is pointed out to him that he is responsible for it, he sets out to change their relationship for the better. The results have more of an impact on him than he expected.

📚 Little Monkeys - Lilian Rated T, Word Count 15.7k

"There might be a chance that maybe, perhaps, Severus went too far this whole ‘exile far away from the Wizarding World’ thing. Because however he tries to frame it, it comes down to this: after nine years of being completely alone, the first time he stays with another person, he’s plotting to steal said person’s children."

📚 Loose Ends - @arrisha-ao3 (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 9.8k

I love you, Severus wants to say. But the timing is never right.

📚 Lovers Reunited - Now with a special buff! - @hereiamwithmyninjaclan (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 10k

MMORPGs are a fun way to pass the time and spend time with your friends- and hey, Harry might just find true love along the way. Beta'd by the lovely @silverdrip

📚 Not Giving In - @hippocrates460 (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 38.7k

Harry comes back from his holiday to a stack of memos on his desk that all say the same thing: "Severus Snape adopted Teddy Lupin." Snape. No one has seen him since the war trials ended, no one knows where he lives, no one knows why he took Teddy. And what happened to Andromeda? Harry is determined to be a good godfather and sort it all out. Even if it means dealing with Snape. Title from Better Son/Daughter, because Nanette.

📚 Professional Strippers - @coconutice22 (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 6k

At Uncle Vernon’s funeral, Aunt Petunia asks Harry for a favour.

📚 Snowed in with Severus - @maraudersaffair (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 32.5k

In eighth year, Harry decides to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. He sets out to spend the time with Professor Snape, but after a magical accident, they find themselves stranded alone in a snowy cabin with no way out and only one bed.

📚 Sudden Light - @liladiurne (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 48k

Seven years after the war, in the dead of winter, Severus Snape meets a beautiful stranger on a train. Inevitably, he falls in love. Inspired by D.G. Rossetti and Paul Celan and based on the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

📚 The Beating of This Fragile Heart - @writcraft (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 33k

After the war, the last thing Severus Snape needs is the memory of a fleeting wartime kiss and a very persistent Harry Potter thwarting his plans to live a peaceful and solitary life. It’s only when Harry’s life is endangered that Severus is finally forced to confront his feelings head on.

📚 the Boy Who Lubed - @swoontodeath (AO3) Rated M, Word Count 7k

Desperate to pass his N.E.W.T. in Potions, Harry Potter joins a secretive Discord server run by a Potioneering expert known only as the Half-Blood Prince. What will happen when Severus Snape, full-time Potions Professor and part-time Discord mod, realises that the newest addition to his server is none other than his least favourite student?

📚 The Half-Blood and the Prince - @tax-onomic (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 6.5k

“It’s just a book, Harry.” “Okay. Thanks.” “But… you’ve got a crush on a book, mate. That’s a bit much. You need a girlfriend.” She tapped the name on the first page thoughtfully. “Or perhaps a boyfriend?”

📚 The Measure of a Man - @ac1d6urn (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 50k

Several years after defeating Voldemort, Junior Auror Harry Potter discovers himself and, at the risk of losing his childhood love, follows the truth. Through it all, Snape is an unexpected solace. Will he become more?

📚 The Want of You - @fleetingdesires (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 7.3k

On his night off, Severus unexpectedly realises that Harry has grown into quite an attractive man. He's just not going to think too hard about it. No, he's not going to think about him at all. It's fine. He's fine. Everything is fine.

📚 Thirteen and a half inches - @loneamaryllis (AO3) Rated E, Word Count 8.3k

The Marauder's Map shows a number above some people's head. Harrie investigates what it means.

📚 You Were Myth-Taken - @hokee101 (AO3) Rated T, Word Count 23.8k

When vampire attacks hit Hogsmeade, Severus Snape is the prime suspect. With Harry and Albus not taking these accusations seriously and the students threatening to expose him at every turn, this term was going to be just fangtastic.

Discord || Recs Lists

[noblessenoir]

so as much as i hate the francis ford coppola adaptation of dracula setting a precedent for making mina into dracula's reincarnated lover, i do admit that there is merit in the defense that this at least gives dracula a personal attachment to a member of the human cast

because as it stands in the book, dracula initially targets lucy for seemingly no reason, not realizing that she and his first english victim, jonathan, are even connected. and because it's all just a coincidence, it's less satisfying for the audience

but i argue that there's a better way to give dracula a personal connection to the human cast without compromising mina's character: make dracula obsessed with jonathan instead

it makes sense, jonathan is his first new victim in transylvania, jonathan is his first point of contact with this new world he seeks to invade, and because we know that dracula has been intercepting his letters, this means he knows about jonathan's personal life and the people he cares about

so here's how i would do it in a hypothetical dracula adaptation:

when dracula leaves for london, he does so specifically to target mina because he knows who she is and where she lives from jonathan's letters to her. maybe he even taunts jonathan over this, which is what drives jonathan to make his final desperate escape from the castle to try to somehow warn mina in time. then i would fudge the timeline a bit so that by the time dracula gets to london, mina has just left for transylvania to find jonathan after receiving the letter from the abbey where he has been recovering. but then, dracula remembers other details from jonathan and mina's correspondence; he remembers the passages about beautiful, innocent, beloved lucy westenra, and decides that if he cannot have mina, he will have her instead

this could be a great source of angst for both jonathan and mina if they ever figure out this connection, and it could even sow seeds of discord within the group—after all, this means that jonathan and mina are indirectly responsible for the death of someone who arthur, quincey, and seward all loved. but also, this makes dracula's later attack on mina much more personal. he's not just doing it because she is one of the biggest threats in the human cast, he's also doing it because she was his target all along, and lucy was just a tragic consolation prize

all of this could also add a homoerotic element to the story between dracula and jonathan. much has already been said about dracula's status as a sex symbol in pop culture and how sex is a big theme of the original novel. and as it stands, there are already parts of the book that make dracula's obsession with jonathan seem romantically charged. especially in the early chapters in transylvania, dracula almost seems to be setting up a beauty and the beast situation between him and jonathan, trying to charm him while keeping him prisoner. and then later in the story, dracula targeting mina can be played as jealousy for her relationship with jonathan. and of course, there's this infamous passage from early the novel where dracula stops his brides from feasting on jonathan:

so yes, i think francis ford coppola had the right idea to give dracula a more personal connection to a member of the human cast, he just chose the wrong one

[the-idle-woman]

Black Wings at Midnight

Shyly sharing my first Hannibal fanfic: a reimagining of Seasons 1-3 set during World War II in Britain. It comes complete with vintage-style illustrations and links to suggested listening (ranging from Handel to 1940s' swing).

See below for the summary, and under the cut for an extract.

When former detective Will Graham is pulled away from his intelligence work at Bletchley Park in 1942, to consult on a hauntingly familiar crime scene, he feels alive for the first time in years. But when his life begins falling apart, he finds himself thrown into a complex dance of trust and suspicion with the man assigned to help him: an aristocratic Lithuanian flying ace and peacetime psychiatrist, whose intentions are anything but clear…

If you do decide to give it a read, I hope you enjoy it, and would love it if you took the time to leave a comment. Hearing people's expectations and thoughts as they read has been the most enjoyable part of sharing this online. Thank you all, and sending hugs from London.

From Black Wings at Midnight: Chapter 3

‘May I come in?’ 

The voice is deep, with a warm lilt of an Eastern European accent. Crawford’s eyes brighten and he rises from the desk with what Will considers unseemly haste.

‘Aha! Now here’s a familiar face. Come in, come in, old chap. Pull up a chair. This is Will Graham, who I mentioned on the phone. Brilliant mind. Brilliant.’

Will scowls at the praise and turns in his chair, prepared to be combative. He has no great love for the airmen of the RAF. They are nothing more than overgrown public schoolboys, with their chummy nicknames and their maverick flair. In their presence, Will feels his carapace stripped away, exposed as an awkward provincial with a clumsy accent, a different breed from these sauntering gods of the sky. 

The newcomer does little to dispel his prejudices. The flattering RAF uniform makes most men look good, but this fellow seems to have stepped straight out of an advertisement. J.C. Leyendecker in the flesh, Will thinks bitterly, feeling short, and dark, and rustic.

Nothing about this man is rustic: dark blond hair parted with almost surgical precision; a broad chest and shoulders beneath the blazon of the RAF wings; trousers ironed to crisp perfection; tie perfectly centred. Everything about him screams money, from the scent of his cologne to the small gold signet ring just visible on his little finger.

After spending long hours digging into the minds of the Nazi commanders, Will can’t resist a snort. Good God, how they would love you!

Light brown eyes linger on Will for a moment, already looking amused. 

‘Good afternoon, Mr Graham. I apologise for interrupting your colloquy, but Jack is an old friend. I was delighted to hear he was visiting us. May I?’ He gestures to the unused chair before the desk and Will raises a shoulder minutely, neither inviting nor repelling. He settles for glaring across at Jack. He doesn’t wish to spend any longer here than necessary, and he certainly doesn’t want to play third wheel to some back-slapping reunion.

‘Will,’ says Jack, ‘this is Flight Lieutenant Hannibal Lecter – or should I say Dr Lecter?’ The two men exchange a twinkle of camaraderie and Will stifles a desire to stab the table with his pencil. ‘We met before the war,’ Jack continues. ‘Dr Lecter has a private psychiatry practice on Harley Street, and helped us with a profile for the Bethnal Green Killer in ’38.’

Will remembers the case. It wasn’t long after he’d been signed off, still gathering together the shreds of himself in the nursing home. He allows himself a glance sideways.

‘Strange to swap the comforts of Harley Street for a wet field in Hampshire, Dr Lecter. Get tired of listening to rich old ladies?’

‘I “got” patriotic,’ Lecter says gently. ‘My country was invaded last year. Lithuania,’ he adds, for Will’s benefit. ‘I have not lived there for many years, but old affections still linger: a sense of duty, if you will. I learned to fly when I was younger’ – Of course you did, thinks Will bitterly – ‘so why not put my skills in the service of my adopted country?’

‘And he’s become quite the terror,’ Jack says cheerfully. ‘Give him a Spitfire and he’s absolutely fearless. They say Göring’s offered a bounty to anyone who brings him down.’ He dismisses Lecter’s gesture of modest denial and turns back to Will. ‘When I heard he was stationed here, I thought it’d be helpful to have his thoughts – and his support too, of course.’

‘Convenient,’ Will says under his breath, studying his fingers. He feels Lecter’s eyes lingering on him with something that’s uncomfortably close to satisfaction. For a moment he entertains himself, wondering whether he loathes fighter aces more or less than psychiatrists. It comes out as a balance. The airmen are more irritating, but he has bitter personal experience of his own with psychiatry.

‘Come now, Jack,’ Lecter says, ‘you are not being completely honest with Mr Graham.’ He leans a little closer, offering Will a lungful of his expensive cologne, and his voice drops, as though this is a secret to be shared between them. ‘Jack has asked me to have a few conversations with you before you start on this case. Just to help prepare your armour for the field of battle, as it were.’

Will’s eyes snap up to Jack Crawford, who has the grace to look embarrassed.

‘Will, I’ve read your files. It’s my job to make sure you’re fit for duty. I want to help you in any way I can.’

‘I don’t find it helpful to be covertly psychoanalysed!’

‘This is not psychoanalysis,’ Lecter says placidly into the awkward silence, ‘merely a common interest. You have nothing to fear, Mr Graham. Besides,’ he adds, straightening his cuffs, ‘I am not a psychoanalyst. Freud may have some interesting principles, and Jung has made many valuable insights into my field, but I do not ride under their banner. Biological psychiatry is very different from asking you to tell me your dreams.’ Dark eyes dart up and catch Will’s just as he makes the mistake of looking up. Something coils in the pit of his stomach. ‘Though I have no doubt your dreams must be a fascinating place.’ …

‘Just a conversation,’ Will hears himself say.

‘But of course.’ Lecter shrugs in a Gallic fashion. ‘And we can give dear Jack a good night’s sleep. Just a conversation or two among friends.’

‘Associates,’ Will snaps back. Lecter laughs as if he has said something delightful.

‘God forbid we should become friendly. Come with me to the mess, Mr Graham. Let’s get some tea.’

Will feels wrong-footed. He wants to prod; to offend; to get under Lecter’s skin and force him to feel even the faintest echo of Will’s crippling discomfort. He feels like a parcel passed from Jack to Lecter, a fragile curiosity to be wrapped in cotton wool and discussed in lowered voices. He feels lonely and patronised, and because, to his deep-seated disgust, he finds himself wanting Lecter to like him, Will lashes out.

‘I doubt we’ll be friends, Dr Lecter. I don’t find you that interesting.’

A hand falls on his shoulder. To Jack, frowning in his chair, it’ll look comradely, a way to show that no offence has been taken. To Will, the touch is unsettling: part warning, conveyed through the grip of fingers far stronger than he’d anticipated; and part protective caress. I don’t, Will repeats doggedly in his head, find you interesting.

‘Ah,’ Lecter says softly in his ear, ‘but you will.’

[readyforevolution]

WHEN BLACK-MEN RULED THE WORLD

Some Things You Did Not Know About the Moors of Spain

1. The Spanish occupation by the Moors began in 711 AD when an African army, under their leader Tariq ibn-Ziyad, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar from northern Africa and invaded the Iberian peninsula ‘Andalus’.

2. A European scholar sympathetic to the Spaniards remembered the conquest in this way:

a. The reins of the Moors horses were as fire, their faces black as pitch, their eyes shone like burning candles, their horses were swift as leopards and the riders fiercer than a wolf in a sheepfold at night . . . The noble Goths [the German rulers of Spain to whom Roderick belonged] were broken in an hour, quicker than tongue can tell. Oh luckless Spain!

Quoted in Edward Scobie, The Moors and Portugal’s Global Expansion, in Golden Age of the Moor, ed Ivan Van Sertima, US, Transaction Publishers, 1992, p.336

3. The Moors, who ruled Spain for 800 years, introduced new scientific techniques to Europe, such as an astrolabe, a device for measuring the position of the stars and planets. Scientific progress in Astronomy, Chemistry, Physics, Mathematics, Geography and Philosophy flourished in Moorish Spain.

4. Basil Davidson, one of the most noted historians recognized and declared that there were no lands at that time (the eighth century) “more admired by its neighbours, or more comfortable to live in, than a rich African civilization which took shape in Spain”

5. At its height, Córdova, the heart of Moorish territory in Spain, was the most modern city in Europe and the world. The streets were well-paved, with raised sidewalks for pedestrians. During the night, ten miles of streets were well illuminated by lamps. This was hundreds of years before there was a paved street in Paris or a street lamp in London. Cordova had 900 public baths – we are told that a poor Moor would go without bread rather than soap while the then

Queen of England never had a bath!

6. The Great Mosque of Córdoba (La Mezquita) is still one of the architectural wonders of the world in spite of later Spanish disfigurements. Its low scarlet and gold roof, supported by 1,000 columns of marble, jasper and and porphyry, was lit by thousands of brass and silver lamps which burned perfumed oil.

7. Education was universal in Moorish Spain, available to all, while in Christian Europe more than ninety-nine percent of the population were illiterate, and even kings could neither read nor write. At that time, Europe had only two universities copied from Spain, the Moors had seventeen great Universities! These were located in Almeria, Cordova, Granada, Juen, Malaga, Seville, and Toledo in which the majority of the lecturers were women.

8. In the tenth and eleventh centuries, public libraries in Europe were non-existent, while Moorish Spain could boast of more than seventy, of which the one in Cordova housed six hundred thousand manuscripts.

9. Over 4,000 Arabic words and Arabic-derived phrases have been absorbed into the Spanish language. Words beginning with “al,” for example, are derived from Arabic. Arabic words such as algebra, alcohol, chemistry, nadir, alkaline, and cipher entered the language. Even words such as checkmate, influenza, typhoon, orange, and cable can be traced back to Arabic origins.

10. The most significant Moorish musician was known as Ziryab, the Blackbird who arrived in Spain in 822. The Moors introduced earliest versions of several instruments, including the Lute or el oud, the guitar or kithara and the Lyre. Ziryab changed the style of eating by breaking meals into separate courses beginning with soup and ending with desserts.

11. The Moors introduced paper to Europe and Arabic numerals, which replaced the clumsy Roman system.

12. The Moors introduced many new crops including the orange, lemon, peach, apricot, fig, sugar cane, dates, ginger and pomegranate as well as saffron, sugar cane, cotton, silk and rice which remain some of Spain’s main products today.

13. The Moorish rulers lived in sumptuous palaces, while the monarchs of Germany, France, and England dwelt in big barns, with no windows and no chimneys, and with only a hole in the roof for the exit of smoke. One such Moorish palace ‘Alhambra’ (literally “the red one”) in Granada is one of Spain’s architectural masterpieces. Alhambra was the seat of Muslim rulers from the 13th century to the end of the 15th century. The Alhambra is a UNESCO World Heritage Site

14. It was through Africa that the new knowledge of China, India, and Arabia reached Europe. The Moors brought the Compass from China into Europe.

15. The Moors ruled and occupied Lisbon in Portugal (named “Lashbuna” by the Moors) and the rest of the country until well into the twelfth century. They were finally defeated and driven out by the forces of King Alfonso Henriques. The scene of this battle was the ‘Castle of St. George.’

Beginning in the 12th century and continuing for hundreds of years, the Inquisition was infamous for the severity of its tortures and its persecution of Jews and Muslims. Its worst manifestation was in Spain, where the Spanish Inquisition was a dominant force for more than 200 years, resulting in some 32,000 executions.

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75 years ago, the NATO "Defensive" alliance was created to counter a perceived fear of communist expansion into Europe. Regardless of the fact that there was no plausible evidence that the Soviets ever planned to invade "Europe," When the Soviet Union ceased to exist, so did NATO's marginal rationale for existence. However, the "defensive" alliance kept expanding against the advice of many western voices and those of the Russians. These protests and warnings were, of course, ignored as the Alliance continued to peddle a North American world view to Europe and its expanding Eastern European membership. NATO today has proved itself to be a fractious weapons sales scam and political platform, not a military alliance. It has energetically participated in numerous illegal and brutal unilateral military actions serving the political rationale of the Washington, London, and Brussels elite. From Belgrade to Tripoli, NATO has delivered its brand of "freedom" by bombing civilians, their homes, and societies. The coming collapse of the Ukrainian misadventure represents such an existential threat to the viability of this paper tiger that it will contemplate almost any avenue other than acceptance of failure. Rather than defending Europe from War, NATO looks destined to become part of a self designed self-fulfilling prophecy of War and destruction. Rember, nothing of the Machine ever works against the machine, and NATO is, despite what we are told, a giant profit Mill and ponzi scheme, peddling fear to sell weapons while the citizens of Europe face poverty and societal discontent. Russia and the Russians have no designs or desire for a War with NATO, no serious academic or political analysts outside of the echo chamber of Atlantasist fantasy believes that. Remember, if there's a people on earth that understand the devastation of war, it's the Russians. If you actually want to examine the engine of the Ukraine war (and all other post WW2 conflicts) and any conflict thay flows from it, lift the bonnet on the Washington and London elites and their greasy association with the corporations profiting from the War. Neither they nor their bureaucratic appointees will see their children, brothers, or fathers doe in a War with Russia or indeed wIth China. That is an honour they will bestow on the ordinary taxpayers of the EU and US, and while they're at it, they'll also convince you to pay for it all too.

Il y a 75 ans l’OTAN était créée pour contrer la peur perçue d’une expansion communiste en Europe. Indépendamment du fait qu’il n’existait aucune preuve plausible que les Soviétiques envisageaient d’envahir « l’Europe », lorsque l’Union soviétique a cessé d’exister, la justification marginale de l’existence de l’OTAN a également disparu. Cependant, l’alliance « défensive » a continué à s’étendre contre l’avis de nombreuses voix occidentales et contre l’avis des Russes. Ces protestations et avertissements ont bien sûr été ignorés alors que l’Alliance a continué à colporter une vision nord-américaine du monde à l’Europe et à son adhésion croissante à l’Europe de l’Est. Aujourd’hui, l’OTAN s’est révélée être une escroquerie de vente d’armes et une plate-forme politique, et non une alliance militaire. Il a participé énergiquement à de nombreuses actions militaires unilatérales illégales et brutales servant la logique politique des élites de Washington, de Londres et de Bruxelles. De Belgrade à Tripoli, l’OTAN a défendu sa « liberté » en bombardant les civils, leurs maisons et leurs sociétés. L’effondrement prochain de la mésaventure ukrainienne représente une telle menace existentielle pour la viabilité de ce tigre de papier qu’il envisagera presque toutes les voies autres que l’acceptation de l’échec. Plutôt que de défendre l’Europe contre la guerre, l’OTAN semble destinée à faire partie d’une prophétie auto-réalisatrice de guerre et de destruction. N’oubliez pas que rien de la Machine ne fonctionne jamais contre la machine, et que l’OTAN est, malgré ce qu’on nous dit, une gigantesque usine à profit et une chaîne de Ponzi, colportant la peur pour vendre des armes alors que les citoyens européens sont confrontés à la pauvreté et au mécontentement sociétal. La Russie et les Russes n’ont ni l’intention ni le désir d’une guerre avec l’OTAN, aucun analyste universitaire ou politique sérieux en dehors de la chambre d’écho du fantasme atlantasiste ne le croit. N’oubliez pas que s’il y a un peuple sur terre qui comprend les ravages de la guerre, c’est bien les Russes. Si vous voulez réellement examiner le moteur de la guerre en Ukraine (et tous les autres conflits de l’après-Seconde Guerre mondiale) et tout conflit qui en découle, levez le chapeau sur les élites de Washington et de Londres et leur association graisseuse avec les entreprises qui profitent de la guerre. Ni eux ni leurs représentants bureaucratiques ne verront leurs enfants, leurs frères ou leurs pères participer à une guerre avec la Russie ou même avec la Chine. C’est un honneur qu’ils accorderont aux contribuables ordinaires de l’UE et des États-Unis, et pendant qu’ils y seront, ils vous convaincront également de payer pour tout cela également.

Otan = Organisation du traité de l'Atlantique nord

Nato = National Association of Theatre Owners