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collapsedglasshouses · 4 months

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AN ANGEL FOR NOAH || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 11]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

MASTERPOST

SUMMARY: Actions are followed by consequences... Noah and Jules will learn that the hard way.

WARNINGS: angst, mentions of death and mental health issues, swearing, more angst, have i mentioned angst?, angst

A/N: Oh my f-ing god, I can't do this anymore. In honor of the BMTH tour starting today, I thought updating this story was fitting. This is the second to last part of An Angel For Noah... I'm too cruel to my characters, what am I doing... I hope you like the new part. If so, consider reblogging it! Thank you! Also, this isn't fully proofread, i'm sorry :c (im not, my head was too full to notice any errors)

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @ada-clarence @wild-child-7747 @thebadchic @thescarlettvvitch @cookiesupplier

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

When Jules awoke, the light burned in her eyes. She barely managed to keep them open. It was a severe contrast to the warmth of Noah’s embrace that she was able to feel for an entire night. It took her a couple of seconds to notice where she was. But when she did, the realization hit her like a brick wall. She knew what was about to come and immediately felt nauseous. She wanted to go back. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and find herself back in Noah’s arms.

As she sat there in the white nothingness, she felt like she was dying over and over again. This was the end. Jules felt a lot of different feelings. There was a heaviness in the air, and everything around her looked too clean and empty. She couldn't shake off the mix of emotions inside her.

She thought about the night she spent with Noah, and it made her feel sad and happy at the same time. Sad because she knew they weren't supposed to get close like that, and happy because those moments were special.

Thinking about what happened, she felt a bit sorry for breaking the rules. She wished she could go back and change things, but it was too late now.

Missing Noah hit her hard. She wanted to be close to him, share more laughs, and just be with him. Even the bad moments were now everything she craved as long as she could see him again. The memory of his touch stayed with her, and she wanted more of those stolen moments.

In the midst of all these emotions, there was a warmth inside her that was hard to explain. It was more than just doing her guardian job; it was a deep connection that went beyond the rules. Noah had become a big part of her story, sometimes even reminding her of her living self.

As she sat there, she knew their connection was special but also risky. It made her feel love for a human, guilt for breaking the rules, and a deep sadness for what might not happen.

While waiting for her punishment to arrive, she couldn't ignore the feeling Noah left in her. It was a mix of love, guilt, and loss—a strong and special connection that painted the white room with the colors of a love that went beyond what was supposed to happen.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and immediately knew who it was.

“Jules.” Keaton spoke softly “We need to talk.”

Jules sighed as Keaton walked around her and sat down in front of her. He was still calm, as usual, but his eyes, usually filled with gentle reassurance, held a weight that mirrored the weight on Jules' heart.

Jules nodded, her eyes brimming with uncertainty. She had a feeling what was about to happen.

Keaton’s presence, normally a very welcomed feeling for Jules, now felt bittersweet. It took him a second to find the right words. “I know this is hard.”

Jules just looked at him with a plain expression. She knew he wanted to comfort her, but she couldn’t quite believe he actually knew how hard this was.

“I hate to be the one to do this to you, but-…” Keaton began but Jules was quick to interrupt him: “But you’re still doing it, Keaton.”

Keaton blinked for a couple of seconds. She was testing his patience with that sentence. “You know, you can’t really blame me for the consequences you have to face now, sweetheart.”

She noticed his slightly angered undertone, but she was to numb to properly correct herself. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t face her own mistakes. She couldn’t face her own bad decisions.

“I didn’t think you would go this far, Jules.” Keaton than claimed, causing Jules to raise her eyebrows. “You knew what was going on?”

“Not really… But I had a feeling when we last saw each other.” He explained, his tone becoming calmer again. Jules just nodded, waiting for her punishment with pure anxiety creeping up her veins.

“I know you formed this deep connection with Noah, but I wouldn’t have guessed how deep it really got.” Keaton explained, while Jules swallowed hard. It had in fact got so deep, she craved him with every cell of her body, holding on to bit of life she felt when she was near him.

On the other hand, the weight of guilt settled on Jules’ shoulders. Everything was about to slip from her grip.

“Keaton…” She finally cried out and let her head fall into her hands. “I just can’t.”

“I know, Jules. But you have no other choice.” – “I… I can’t let him go, Keaton. I can’t pretend those feelings do not exist.”

Keaton sighed, his gaze softening, while he took Jules’ hands into his, revealing her red eyes. "I understand, Jules. Emotions are powerful, even for us. But we have a duty, a purpose. The connection you formed with Noah is extraordinary, but it has consequences. This cannot continue. As you may know, there are no guardian angels happily together with their persons."

“Did it ever happen?” – “Of course, it did. It happens all the time, but it always leads to the same things.”

Jules felt a lump forming in her throat. "What are the consequences?"

Keaton hesitated before explaining, “You have little to no options, but we can give you these… One, you cut all ties to Noah. You will never see him again, nor be his guardian angel.” Jules’ eyes widened as she listened to her former guardian angel.

“Or…” Keaton sighed, already having this gut feeling Jules would choose to make her existence a living hell, “You can continue to be his guardian angel… But with strict restrictions. You won’t be able to make yourself attach to the physical world ever again… You won’t be able to make yourself visible nor move anything. You can’t just jump in front of cars or whatever.”

“And?” Jules asked when she noticed Keaton hesitated to continue.

“Noah’s memories are going to be wiped in each case. He won’t be able to remember a single bit of what happened between you two. He won’t remember anything.”

Jules felt a surge of panic at the ultimatum. The prospect of losing Noah was unbearable, yet the alternative was equally painful.

"I can't lose him," she pleaded, her eyes pleading for an alternative.

Keaton's expression saddened, and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I understand, Jules. I truly do. Take your time making your decision… You're allowed one last meeting with him. Make it count."

Gratitude and desperation filled Jules' eyes. "Thank you."

With that, Keaton stood up from his place and walked away, leaving Jules alone with her emotions. Jules couldn’t shake the heaviness in her heart. A profound sense of sadness and brokenness washing over her. The weight of the consequences for breaking the rules weighed heavily on her shoulders, casting a shadow over the warmth she had felt with Noah. Keaton's comforting words didn't fully erase the ache in her heart.

The realization that their connection had to end, or at least be severely restricted, left her feeling a deep sense of loss. The warmth and happiness she had experienced with Noah now seemed like distant memories, clouded by the unchangeable future.

Her heart ached with the knowledge that she couldn't be with him the way she wanted. The thought of not being able to see him, share moments, or guide him as freely was like a painful knot in her chest. The love that had blossomed within her felt like it was slipping away, leaving a void that echoed with the sadness of an inevitable goodbye.

Despite Keaton's comforting presence still lingering on her, Jules couldn't shake off the feeling of being broken. The once vibrant connection between her and Noah was now at risk of being severed, and the prospect of living with the consequences of their actions haunted her. She felt a deep sorrow, not just for herself but also for Noah, who would lose the memories of their time together.

In the white room, surrounded by the aftermath of their choices, Jules couldn't escape the overwhelming sadness that settled over her, like a storm cloud ready to unleash its tears. And then she made her decision…

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of Noah's room, eventually woke him up. With his eyes still closed, he reached to his left side but was met with emptiness.

His eyes immediately shot to his side where Jules had been laying the whole night. She was gone. He wasn’t surprised. He knew this was coming but he tricked himself into thinking it wouldn’t happen so soon.

For a moment, he laid there, grappling with the absence.

He couldn’t just let this go. He needed to see something to do so. So, when Noah stood up from his bed, he had a clear plan in mind.

The next couple of hours where filled with research. He hadn’t even had clear key words to search. All he knew was her first name and where it happened. Jules and New York City.

Noah was determined to find the answers he was looking for. He needed to know where her body was. He needed to see her grave to close this chapter.

He sifted through articles until he stumbled upon the one detailing the tragic incident that had taken her life. The life of his Jules. The weight on his chest intensified as he read about the accident, the pain evident in the words of the article.

Unable to contain the swirl of emotions, Noah ran a hand over his face. This became realer and realer with each passing second. She was dead, he was very much alive.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Noah’s door, causing him to flinch slightly. Quickly, he tried to close his tabs as he answered.

Nicholas entered his room and saw how Noah closed the last tab.

"Did I interrupt your private time or what is going on?" Nick joked while Noah noticed his own weird behavior.

"Uh… Believe me… It would be easier to explain if I said yes, so… Yes." He weakly smiled at his best friend.

Nick on the other hand just blinked. "I just wanted to ask if I should bring you a coffee."

Noah looked as his best friend for a second, trying to read him. He had known him for years. And right now he realized how much he had stressed him over the last couple of weeks. Nick had no idea what was going on, he was worried to his core about Noah. He knew Noah wasn’t doing well lately but he had never acted so sporadic as he did at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Nick." Noah exclaimed without answering his best friend's question.

Nick's eyebrows rose for a second, surprised at Noah’s statement. "For what?"

"For dragging you into something you weren’t supposed to be part of." Noah explained. Nick sighed and closed the door behind him, before sitting down on Noah's bed for a second.

“You know… The last couple of weeks kinda scared me, Noah.” Nick confessed to him with a worried expression.

Noah looked to the floor and started to think. Guilt began to creep up his veins. He knew, he could be difficult to handle but the last couple of weeks had been slightly too rough, even for him. He had been acting so out of character. All he wanted to do right now was telling Nick the truth, but he knew that it would make him sound even more insane than he already looked like. So, he said nothing…

Nick, in the meantime, tried to make Noah look at him. He knew something was going on in Noah’s head that he just didn’t want to tell and as much as Nick wanted to know what was going on, he didn’t try to ask.

“Can I do anything to help you?” Nick still asked his best friend, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

Noah swallowed hard. He had something he dearly wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure if he should ask is friend for such a weird request. It took him a minute to sort his thoughts. He knew, he needed to get closure as soon as possible, but was worried Nick would snap if he continued to be this way.

“I actually have a request.” Noah quietly breathed out, causing Nick to lean forward.

“I wanna go to New York City.” Noah than said. Nick blinked for a couple of seconds.

“Are you serious?” Nick asked, his eyes slightly widened, not knowing how to process Noah’s request.

“Dead serious.” – “You know, its like… On the other side of the country and we’ve just played their like… a month ago.”

Noah nodded.

For a second, Nick just looked at Noah. He didn’t even know what to expect anymore. Feeling the urge to rise from his seat and leave, he wanted to distance himself from the situation. However, a subtle tone in Noah's request managed to get through, planting a seed of responsibility within Nick. He knew he had to reconsider and acknowledge the significance that this matter held for Noah.

“Okay.” Nick exclaimed.

“Okay?” – “Yeah… Let’s look for the flights… Just the two of us.”

There was a subtle hope in Nick's heart that Noah's sudden desire to do something meant a positive change. He decided in that moment, if Noah wasn’t going to get better, he would take matters in his own hands. He needed to get Noah back.

For now, he just wanted to spend time with him, getting to know the situation that was going on better, even without Noah telling him.

They didn’t know exactly how they managed to do it but about ten hours later the two found themselves in the middle of New York City. It had been stressful and they had had little to no time to pack things, but right now they stood in their hotel room, both with a filled backpack and no clear plan in mind where to go.

At least, Nick didn’t know where to go.

“And now?” The bassist asked his best friend, who looked from left to right to find a good way to start their journey. It was already getting dark.

“Maybe… We can search for a restaurant after getting settled into our hotel room?” Noah requested, sounding as aimless as his best friend.

The small New York City restaurant they found themselves in, about an hour later, gave off a cozy ambiance. The lights were slightly dimmed, there were a lot of plants and a rustical brick wall with a lot of band pictures on it. The ambience was rounded off by the soft sound of 80s rock music. Noah and Nick sat across from each other at a corner table, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow on the wooden surface.

For at least fifteen minutes, both of the boys just straight up stared at the menu. Noah was sure if another five minutes would pass without a dialogue, he would be able to memorize the dishes fully. They would be able to hire him at this point.

So, Noah decided to change that.

“You remember the last time we ate here?” He asked his best friend, whose eyebrows rose at his question. Nick wasn’t sure why Noah began to small talk with him. He knew Noah hated small talk more than anything.

“Sure… It’s been a year or two.” Nick quietly answered, before putting down the menu card. Noah followed his example and swallowed hard. The boys stared at each other for a second, before they silently agreed to just forget about the weird situation for a second. They both needed an evening of normality before the chaos would start again.

So, as they chose from the menu, they started sharing light banter about their favorite foods and recalling memories from past visits to New York. There was a fleeting sense that everything was returning to normal—the friendship, the shared laughter, the simple joy of enjoying a meal together.

Soon, the waiter approached, and they placed their orders. A basket of warm, crusty bread was set before them, accompanied by a trio of flavored butters. The clinking of porcelain and glasses blended seamlessly with the music in the background.

But the later it got, the less Nick could ignore the fact that they were in a city, on the other side of the country, for no apparent reason. In the midst of this apparent normalcy, Nick looked across the table at Noah, concern etched in his features. He could sense that something weighed heavily on his friend's mind. The subtle shift in the air hinted at the unspoken tension.

"So, Noah," Nick began, his tone gentle yet firm, "what's really going on with you lately?"

Noah's eyes momentarily flickered, caught off guard by the directness of his best friend’s question. He hesitated, his fork pausing mid-air above the salad. The comfortable illusion of normalcy shattered, revealing the underlying tension of unresolved emotions.

The restaurant seemed to hush for a moment, as if holding its breath, awaiting Noah's response. The ambient noise dimmed, leaving only the distant hum of the city beyond the window. Noah almost started to panic. He just couldn’t tell Nick. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t.

Nick's gaze remained steady, filled with genuine concern and a readiness to listen. The question lingered, inviting Noah to share the burden he carried.

“Nick… I can’t.” He breathed out, noticing how he wasn’t hungry anymore. For the last two hours he had just let go of his concerns, but now he was thrown right back into the chaos that was his life at the moment.

Nick held his gaze, hoping he would change his mind, but when he realized Noah was more silent than ever, he began to nod. “Okay.”

“It’s not like I don’t want to tell you… But so many things happened over the last weeks. I got to know so much about me. I need to get through this alone, Nick.”

“I hope you know, I’m here for you. Always, Noah.” – “Always.”

The next morning, Noah woke up at 6:17 am. He just couldn’t sleep anymore. Rolling from one side to the other. His thoughts were racing. He needed to get this done. He couldn’t wait any longer. So, not even an hour later, Noah quietly stood up, went to the bathroom and changed into his jeans and a simple black sweater, trying not to wake Nick. He didn’t need him to know where he was going.

But his plan failed, when he came out of the bathroom again.

“Where are you going?” Nick asked Noah, his eyes still laced with sleep.

Noah’s heart began to race. He didn’t really know what to say to his best friend, so he simply tried a random excuse. “I wanna go for a walk.”

Nick's eyebrow twitched upwards. He didn't believe him. “Where are you really going?”

Noah sighed. He didn’t answer, just staring at the floor.

“I’ll come with you.” – “No!”

Nick flinched at Noah’s tone. It got more and more confusing with each passing second. Noah looked broken, only a shell of what he used to be. Nick knew something was destroying him internally, so he wouldn't let go of this.

“I’ll can wait in the distance, but I’m not letting you go alone, Noah.” Nick answered his best friend, while slipping out of the bed to get dressed. Noah pressed his fingernails into his hands with such a force, he was scared he would bleed. He was starting to panic. He didn’t want Nick to worry anymore but in fact everything he was saying, caused Nick to be concerned even more.

“Why won’t you just let me go alone?” Noah asked carefully, a slight stutter in his voice. He sounded nothing like himself anymore. All he could think about was his mission to convince his mind that he couldn’t have Jules.

Nick stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Noah. It took him everything to not shout at Noah. He was getting frustrated. Noah had never acted like this. He knew he got worse. Noah had told him what made him go back into therapy, even though he left out the detail about Jules.

“I’m scared you will hurt yourself.” Nick almost whispered and blinked away the tears that started to form in his eyes.

Noah finally looked at his best friend with guilt. He wished he could tell Nick, but he knew he wouldn’t have believed him. So, he stayed quiet.

“Okay.” Noah whispered out “You can go with me, but you have to wait.”

Nick nodded, not really sure what he was agreeing to. But soon they had packed their stuff and took off.

They took a cab to a more remote area. Nick had no idea where they were and couldn't remember ever having been in this area of New York. After exiting the car, Noah walked with determination while Nick just trotted behind him, confusion in his eyes.

Soon they reached an area surrounded by a wall. Nick quickly realized it was a graveyard. Even though he was even more confused, he kept quiet while Noah handed him his backpack with the request to wait for him at that exact spot. Nick nodded and gave Noah a last confused but reassuring look before his best friend took off.

The graveyard had an eerie calmness, with the rustling leaves and the distant sounds of traffic being the only disruptions to the silence. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and nostalgia. As Noah entered the quiet space, the atmosphere changed, and Noah could feel the weight of memories settling on his shoulders.

His steps echoed softly on the gravel path. The gravestones stood like silent monuments, bearing countless untold stories of the people buried there. Goosebumps formed on Noah's skin as he walked among the rows. Graveyards always made him uneasy; they were a stark reminder of the fragility of life.

As Noah ventured deeper into the graveyard, the air seemed to thicken with an invisible heaviness.

The gravestones varied in size and design, telling stories of different lives. Noah's gaze shifted, and then, in a clearing, he saw it – a fresh grave adorned with vibrant flowers. The colors contrasted sharply against the muted tones of the graveyard. It looked so new, and reality hit him like a wave.

Jules. It was her grave.

Noah felt a knot tighten in his chest. He had buried too many people in his short life, but this was different. This was someone he hadn’t known in her lifetime, but someone he had connected with in ways he couldn't explain. When he got closer, he saw her full name, her birthday and the day she died. There even was a photo of her, leaning against the gravestone. The realization that Jules had left this world not even a year ago hit him with a profound sadness. She had simply slipped from his fingers.

He stood there, silent, taking in the scene. The brightness of the flowers seemed to mock the sadness radiating of the grave. Noah's mind swirled with conflicting emotions, and he couldn't shake the heaviness that settled over him. This was a painful reminder that Jules, his mysterious guardian angel, was not just a figment of his imagination but a person who had lived, loved, and left way to soon.

A profound sense of loss settled over him. It wasn't just about the person he had known briefly; it was about the life that had ended, the dreams that had ceased to unfold. He felt an ache in his chest, a pain that echoed with the weight of missed opportunities and the cruel randomness of fate. In this exact moment he realized something really important. He didn’t want to die. There was so much to live for. There was still so much to do for him.

As his tears started streaming down his face, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Without turning he instantly recognized the soft touch on his shoulder.

“Jules.”

“Noah, we need to talk.”

LAST PART

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens rpf #collapsedglasshouseswrites #noah sebastian x ofc

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beardedmrbean · 3 months

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On Jan. 27, Dutch blogger Lauren Hoeve passed away through assisted suicide. After enduring years of chronic fatigue syndrome (also known as myalgic encephalomyelitis, ME/CFS), autism, ADHD, and anxiety, she, at the young age of 28, chose euthanasia to escape a life dominated by pain.

As a Canadian, I am familiar with the Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) program, which has allowed eligible adults to request assisted death services since the federal legislation passed in June 2016. As of this year, the MAID program was also set to allow those with mental illness to choose euthanasia.

However, a recent development on Feb. 1 proposed legislation to temporarily exclude individuals with a sole underlying medical condition of mental illness until 2027.

This legislation is currently under review by Parliament, and unless it passes, the exclusion will be lifted on March 17, 2024. This means individuals struggling solely with mental health issues may become eligible for assisted death.

A confession: Initially, I welcomed the idea of assisted dying, believing it could be a humane choice for those at the late stages of irreversible illnesses to make choices on their own behalf. However, my growing concern lies in the application of MAID by the Canadian government.

I am now skeptical about the true autonomy of individuals opting for assisted death, especially in a country with socialized health care. The risk of medical practitioners recommending MAID as a cost-cutting measure to alleviate strain on the health care system is unsettling, as suggested by a 2020 analysis estimating potential annual savings of save $66 million annually in health care costs.

Individuals considering MAID are already vulnerable due to physical or mental suffering, making them susceptible to external pressures. Reflecting on my own past struggles, I recognize the unpredictability of emotions and circumstances. What seems unbearable one day may change with time and support—yet the choice to end life is a permanent one.

Like many others, I've lived with chronic pain for much of my life. I can recall many days where I've wondered what the point was of continuing to suffer. And then, a miracle drug had come along. Will it continue to work indefinitely? I don't know, but for now, I feel like I have my life back.

And that's the thing, there's an unpredictable nature to health care. What one experiences one day, can change tomorrow.

There are exceptions. I recall reading about Canadian journalist John Scully, an 82-year-old man dealing with severe depression. He was hospitalized many times, had 19 treatments with electroconvulsive therapy (ECT), and takes up to 30 pills a day to manage his chronic pain and health issue. Shouldn't he have a choice?

And yet, I was struck by something in the statement put out by Lauren Hoeve's parents. "Millions of people are affect by ME/CFS, with no established treatment pathways and no cure," they wrote on X on Feb. 2. "Why is their suffering acknowledged enough for euthanasia but not enough to fund clinical research?"

And herein lies the rub. Why is euthanasia offered as a viable solution to a potentially non-permanent problem, when other options are possible?

Mental health services in Canada (and elsewhere) are scarce. Psychologists are expensive and out of reach for many. Psychiatric services are free of charge, but the wait lists are even longer than those for psychologists and few people can get access. The wait to get help is usually over a year. Family physicians just end up prescribing medications based on a checklist and see what sticks.

Those living with chronic pain and disability have been put at the front of the line for MAID. Readily being presented with assisted dying services—instead of treatments or alternatives—can create a sense of being undervalued or marginalized. It implies that end-of-life choices should be prioritized over efforts to provide care, support, or treatments that could improve one's quality of life or extend their lifespan.

Moreover, individuals feeling like a burden on their families may be easily swayed.

I've heard of least one case where a woman decided to end her life because she couldn't get access to opioids for pain management. And while opioids are far from ideal, when it's a choice between life and death—perhaps her doctors should have considered giving her another chance at life.

For me, the troubling part of all of this is that instead of enhancing life-staining systems—whether for people with mental health concerns, chronic pain, or disabilities—our government is opting for permanent exit plans that alleviate strain on the health care system, instead of improving it.

People deserve to have choices—and the choice to end their life should only be considered once every other possible option has been exhausted.

An estimated 836,000 to 2.5 million Americans and more than 580,000 Canadians suffer from ME/CFS. Their lives are inherently valuable.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.

#nunyas news

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sarilolla · 4 months

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What if Bruce and Floyd are the only ones who were found and brought to Branch in time to talk about what they were up to in the past 20 years before they have to say goodbye to their dying brother? Also, how cute would it be if Bruce were to show Branch pictures of Bruce's wife and kids?

Omg yes, this is so cute, but also ouch, only two brothers getting there on time (the brainrot is real for this au, thanks to everyone for enabling me <3)

So, I'm not specifying who exactly is picking Bruce up, but just know it's some of the bounty hunters from the second movie

Hanahaki Branch au (slight spoilers/alternative ending to not finished fic)

***

Bruce had had a very normal day of running his and Brandy's restaurant, helping his beautiful wife, and attending to his kids whenever they needed or wanted something. It was a normal day. The day did start going south as soon as other Trolls showed up, Trolls he had met before. There was nothing wrong with Trolls visiting, just unusual, so he always made an effort to at least become aquianted with the travelers that visited "Bruce and sons and one daughter".

They weren't there to chat or order food though. Not there to catch up. They were friends of Branch. He almost lost what he was holding when they told him why they were there. Branch was dying. His baby brother was dying. An old, but scary disease had taken hold of him, and he was reaching the final stage where he couldn't save his life on his own anymore.

Brandy pushed him out the door herself. There was no time to lose. He would make it up to her soon enough, the time he was taking off work and leaving her alone with the kids. He knew his lovely in-laws would help her though.

The air was tense when they arrived in Pop Village. People were waiting, watching, and he was very firmly guided to a large rock, seeing a "go away" welcome mat. Stepping on, it revealed to be an elevator, and he was both confused and surprised as they descended into a well-stocked and carefully crafted bunker.

He was guided to the door, and people seemed relieved he was there. He wondered if he was the first to arrive, considering how anxious the few Trolls who were moving around were acting, but opening the door to a bedroom, he saw he wasn't. A pink Troll sat on one side of the bed, her eyes watching the Troll in the bed. On the other side sat a teal Troll with dark pink hair. Floyd. The second youngest had changed, but he still had that tell-tale tenseness in his body that told Bruce he was unhappy. He was speaking softly, and Bruce thought he heard something about "nearly kidnapped", but didn't focus on that.

In the bed lay a sickly-looking Troll, with dull coloring, but the family teal, and dark blue hair was unmistakable. Branch.

He was the first to notice his arrival, and they made eye contact, a soft and searching look in the youngest eyes. The other two finally noticed him, and the pink Troll shot up.

"Spruce, right?"

He blinked, correcting her, "It's Bruce now, actually. And you?"

"Poppy. I'm Branch's girlfriend."

He nodded, and she let him take her seat, and she moved a few steps away, shifting nervously.

"Talk with each other, please? I can't lose him."

The words stung. He hadn't expected his baby brother to have a girlfriend, and he could only imagine how painful it was losing someone you loved like that and not being able to help.

When he nodded, she left the room, closing the door behind her. Branch's eyes were still trained on him, but Floyd was fully focused on the youngest. They were holding hands, and as carefully as he could, he took the free hand Branch offered him.

"Love you."

He said carefully, and Bruce teared up at how small his voice sounded.

"I love you too, Bittie B."

Branch frowned a bit, and Floyd chuckled, even if it sounded teary and a bit pained.

"Not a baby."

"Sorry. I love you, Branch."

That earned him a soft smile from both his two youngest brothers. Finally getting eye contact with the second youngest, he told him the same.

"I love you, Floyd."

Floyd bit his lip to avoid saying something sarcastic but replied just as easily.

"I love you too... Bruce."

He couldn't help but smile. It was nice hearing one of his brothers use the name. It felt right.

Branch's breathing had cleared a bit, and like he had asked Floyd earlier, he asked Bruce to share what he had done after escaping the Troll Tree.

He spoke of traveling a few different places, before he somehow washed up on Vacay Island, meeting the most amazing woman. His brothers didn't tease him for the fact that "The Heartthrob" had settled down and were mainly just excited for him. There were no comments on how he had changed, just happiness and relief to see him. He talked about his kids, all thirteen, and while they were happy to be uncles, they were a bit surprised at the large number.

He showed them pictures. His and Brandy's wedding day, how he was tiny compared to her. The opening day of their restaurant, and pictures taken from different events over the years. Pictures of the large eggs of all the kids. First walks, first songs, first day of school. Floyd snickered at the picture of one of his kids in a ketchup bottle, but Branch only smiled, too tired to react anymore. Bruce couldn't wait until they took a full family picture with everyone. His brothers would love his new home, and he was sure both parts of his family would interact wonderfully.

The youngest looked really, really tired, and Bruce, as a dad, could tell he was fighting sleep. He just needed to decide if Branch should sleep, or if they should keep him awake just a bit longer. He had dealt with his fair share of sicknesses with so many kids, but Hanahaki... he hoped he would never see again.

Floyd spoke a bit about his own travels when Bruce asked, and he was so proud of him. Branch had closed his eyes, only listening to them, and his labored breath and hard hand-holding were all the indications he was still there.

It had been two hours after Bruce arrived now, and Floyd had already been there for four. They were getting anxious. Where was JD and Clay? Would they be found in time? The local doctor had done a quick check on Branch when they went outside for a quick snack and bathroom break, and the news wasn't good. The Hanahaki was old, clinging to him, and if the two remaining flowers weren't taken care of soon...

Poppy joined them after, and she shared stories of her and Branch's adventures, and the two marveled at what their baby brother had accomplished. They were so proud, especially when he got the strength to add to or correct something his girlfriend said. But then he got tired again, his eyes slipping shut.

"Don't... don't be angry with them for not arriving in time. Tell them I love them."

Was the last thing he said, coughing a bit, and they picked up the fully bloomed multi-colored iris and dahlia into their paws. They were both shaking as they realized what he was insinuating, pleading with him to open his eyes again. They needed to see him. They needed him to be alive.

His breath was labored. Stuttering. Until it stopped. Branch's hold went slack in their hands, and the trio who had been sitting with him took a long moment to fully realize what was happening. Poppy was the first to break down and cry, while Bruce was frozen, and Floyd looked like he was about to have a panic attack. Slowly, he made his way over to his brother, sitting by him as they hugged.

Branch was dead.

They didn't know where John Dory and Clay were, but right now, it didn't matter. The youngest was dead, and they would never be a whole family again.

***

Y'all are enabling me to have Branch die, you know that? Please continue-

Just... augh, only two of them getting there in time, just ouch. Wanted to keep it vague if JD and Clay were found, or just didn't show up on time

Branch death counter for this au: 4 (non-canon but still-)

#dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #answered asks #hanahaki branch #tw death

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wistfulcynic · 2 years

Text

an alternative reading of the dock scene and its aftermath...

thinking about the question “why did Ed not hear the gunshot when he was on the dock/getting the dinghy” or, alternatively, what if he did??

when we consider what we are actually shown about what Ed knows or thinks or thinks he knows about why Stede never showed, it’s not actually very much. We see him arrive on the dock, look around for Stede. We see him waiting. We see him rowing away and returning to the Revenge, we see him in the blanket fort eating marmalade from the jar and talking about curling into a ball to die. Because this is all very cleverly framed as typical breakup behaviour and based on what we know about Ed’s general sense of self-worth, we viewers all very naturally assumed he was sad because Stede abandoned him.

but why would Ed assume that? This is the question that keeps tripping me up. Why would Ed’s mind, his very sharp, clever, analytical mind, immediately jump to abandonment before all other conclusions? Yes, there is the factor of his low self-worth, but Ed has no real solid reason to believe that Stede’s non-appearance was down to deliberate choice. There are a whole ton of explanations for why he might not show, and i struggle to believe that Ed wouldn’t at least have entertained a few of them.

wasn’t he curious? Wasn’t he worried? He knows Stede’s propensity for getting himself in trouble, stabbed up, etc. Wouldn’t he at least have wanted to find out for sure before going full sadboi-breakup-robe?

unless... he has a really good reason for believing Stede is never coming back.

hearing the gunshot + Stede not showing + the violent life Ed has led, in which death is both common and commonplace, all of this i could easily see leading to him drawing the conclusion that Stede is dead. And then not analysing that conclusion too closely because in at least a corner of Ed’s mind he must be thinking of course Stede is dead. Of course he, Ed, would have his chance at happiness snatched from his grasp just at the moment he thinks he might actually get to keep it. It must feel like karma to him. He’s not a good person, after all. He’s the kraken.

plus of course Ed has been emotionally and psychologically expecting to lose Stede to death one way or the other pretty much from the very beginning when he was half-dead from a stab wound, all the way through Ed’s own attempted murder to Stede nearly dying by firing squad the day before. In a way it must feel like Stede’s death is inevitable, and that Ed’s only been postponing it by rescuing him/not murdering him/the Act of Grace. But now the time’s run out. He always knew it would.

which would mean that Ed’s spiral into blanket forts and marmalade isn’t breakup sadness it’s mourning. It’s him faced with the irretrievable loss of everything good in his life. No wonder he wants to curl into a ball and die. No wonder he’s grasping at anything he can get to mitigate the wreck of his dreams, from dressing gowns to sparkly nails to talent shows. Yes, of course that could be read equally logically as just him dealing with a breakup but it does seem like a Lot, especially if it’s based on the simple, unconfirmed conjecture that Stede didn’t show because he changed his mind.

If Ed is in mourning, then he’s not just sleeping in his ex’s old t-shirt, he’s desperately trying to pick up any pieces that he can of what he’s lost--Stede’s clothes, Stede’s blankets, Stede’s marmalade, Stede’s crew. Stede’s people-positive management style. It’s only when Izzy threatens him and he realises that he can't have even those small pieces that he throws Stede's things away to show Izzy (and everyone) that he’s not pining. He’s not vulnerable. He’s heartless. He’s the kraken.

then he sobs alone in his bed because he’s not actually heartless at all and the love of his life is lost forever.

so yeah. It’s not a flawless theory. But chew on it with me if you would, please, fandom, and you’re welcome for the tears.

#ofmd meta #our flag means death meta #our flag means death #blackbonnet meta #blackbonnet #episode 9 #meta here to stab you up then steal your wallet #enjoy

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idv-brainrot-go-brr · 1 year

Note

LETSS GOOOO I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND HAVE BEEN WAITING!!! MOMENT OF TRUTH THOUGH-

Can I request a short fic Edgar x (GN) Hunter!Reader Where the Reader used to be a Student (University) But was forced to run away and escape to the manor (Perhaps partially motivated to by the Baron?) And they're extremely salty about Edgar's talents out of jealousy, but also can't deny his skill. (Doesn't have to be a happy fic whatever flows better!)

(I am unsure if you are comfortable with Surv x Hunter, so obviously if you aren't, obviously feel free to ignore!)

ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Pairing: Edgar x (gn)reader Content: jealousy, reader is low key not a good person but it's okay because they are gaslighting, gatekeeping and theybossing(?) Chapter:1/1(?) Word Count:1.5k A/N: Happy New Year! Yes, I am comfortable with Surv x Hunter, I don't mind at all but I'm not quite sure if this is what you wanted story-wise. So, sorry if I did it wrong.

Elegy

No matter what people say, everyone is secretly convinced they are deserving of success. There is selfishness in all people, a deep-rooted belief that the evil and unfairness of the world simply do not apply to oneself. The world can be cruel to others, it's none of one's concern as long as one remains blissfully untouched by the injustice of the Moirai.

It worked, for the most part, the blind naivety to believe that everything would work out in the end if only you worked hard enough. There was success until there wasn't, it worked until it didn't.

Plagiarism.

Unfounded accusations.

An infringement of veracity, deformation of the memory of Themis.

And yet it was enough to ruin your life forever. An accusation, nothing more, sufficiently ruined your academic career and made you lose everything. Ignoring fame and status, knowledge and education, pride and ego, 'everything' started as simple as losing your home. From one day to the other, you had nothing. No one. Nowhere. Within one day the world turned from a vast paradise of opportunity into a Gehenna of desperation.

The invitation from the manor was your only chance. It was a strange thought, that everyone else was here by their own choice. They were here because they wanted something, because they considered it an opportunity, while for you this was the only option. You had no alternative. Perhaps this added to your anger, your hatred, your acrimony, perhaps it was the very thing aiding you in bringing down your weapon again and again. Injury, incapacitation, elimination. Injury, incapacitation, elimination. Injury, incapacitation, elimination. You were cruel, you know you were. Did they fear you? Did they regret playing this game yet? Did they loathe you for the fate they brought upon themselves? It's easy to blame someone else for your own faults, and it's easy to vent your rage by violating something, someone, anyone, innocent.

You did not particularly care for their thoughts. In fact, sometimes you found yourself ignoring the fact that other people were capable of intelligent thought as well. They were irrelevant to you. Their thoughts and feelings, their hopes and desperations were all irrelevant to you. Injury, incapacitation, elimination. Repeat.

At first, you started each game with an incredible amount of anger. A rage that could have destroyed the whole world, instead it was inflicted upon merely four people, but over time it changed. Anger, hatred, dissipated to make way for a torturous void. Inflicting pain upon others, as satisfactory as it once had been, became nothing more than a routine. Once upon a time, 'mundane' had been studying, writing essays and attending lectures. Now, mundane life was violence.

Your change in temperament was welcomed by the survivors. Games against you were less of a certain death sentence now. They were still being hunted of course, but the fear of actually dying had disappeared.

That was until they gained a new teammate.

It was very hard to say what precisely ticked you off about Edgar Valden, but you quite immediately decided that you could not stand the man or anything he represented. He was snobby, arrogant and had experienced no hardship in his life. Everything he had had simply fallen into his hands just like that. He wasn't just born with the silver spoon in his mouth, but also with a maid next to him tasked to feed him for the rest of his life. Quite frankly, you found him to be insufferable. Just by existing. Consequently, he became your main target. In every match you had the displeasure of coexisting, the other players could sit back and relax because they knew you would go past them to get to him. Lord knows they didn't have enough team spirit to try to shield him from you.

You were four, maybe five meters from getting to him. A couple seconds away from delivering the final blow to knock him down. Matches are actually very quiet. Perhaps the focus on your task made you automatically ignore any background noises, but whenever you were chasing someone, the only thing you heard was the person in question and your own laboured breaths. You were so close now, about to bring your weapon down when he turned to place a painting down at the very last second. It stunned you, literally. First of all, where had this insufferable brat found the time to paint? You had been chasing him for a good while now, he really shouldn't have been able to. So there was that, but then there was the painting itself. It was as if your brain had found itself incapable of comprehending that something so outstanding had been created in such a short time frame. Undoubtedly, this painting neither held a lot of time dedication, nor a lot of focus, yet still, it was... stunning. Right, a stun, you had been stunned, this was a temporary effect, you needed to keep going. You almost had him. The second you realised that once again the little brat had gotten you, your weapon sliced through the canvas, and the second you managed to pry your eyes away, there was a palette crushing you. So this had been a strategic move. That little shit.

You recovered from the pain and broke the obstacle before moving on. Of course, that little shit had gotten quite some distance away now, but your determination was greater than his strength. So at last, you knocked him down and dragged him to the chair by his neck, no care for the fact that he was choking thanks to the nature of your grip. Hey, in your defence, you were not the one who'd chosen this carrying animation. It had been the Barron. The last cipher was popped merely a moment after you'd picked him up. Aw, they tried to save him. How cute. The painter was eliminated and you teleported to one of the exit gates, managed to knock down the mechanic before the gate was open and chaired her as the other player escaped. Really, the fact that you hadn't paid attention to who it even was was proof of the fact that your priorities in the game were questionable.

With teleport still on cooldown, you began your journey to the other end of the map. It lead you past the area where you'd almost gotten him earlier. The painting was still there, canvas torn, moisture from the grass seeping into it. Perhaps if you'd kept up your speed you could have turned your tie into a win, but you didn't. You altered your course towards the torn painting. The last person escaped and the world faded to black with your fingers clutching the destroyed piece of artwork.

"Miss, can I borrow a needle?"

The Geisha looked up in surprise. She sat on a pillow on the ground, embroidery threads and a pillow pierced with needles resting on the low table in front of her. You weren't known to be the most social one of the hunters. In fact, had she ever heard you talk before? She looked at you, crusted in dirt and blood from your last game, holding on to a painting that was undoubtedly created by the little artist from the other side of the manor.

Her arms reached out toward you, and although you didn't understand what she wanted at first, you handed her the painting after she glanced at it.

"It's you," she stated after carefully brushing the shreds back into place with her fingers. "It is?" you didn't want to enter the room any further with how filthy you were, but you still leaned over to see it from her perspective. She was right. For all that it was rushed, it did resemble you. Urgh, that son of a bitch. Was he mocking you? "Can it be fixed?" you asked her hesitantly.

She put her current embroidery project aside and picked out her thinnest threat and smallest needle, but instead of handing them to you, she began working on it herself. You looked at her in confusion, but the closest you got to an explanation was the statement: "You need to bathe"

Well, now the painting is hung in your room, and as the weeks went by it was joined by others. Canvas upon shredded canvas carefully stitched back together first by Michiko's, but later by your own hand. Why did you even keep them? It didn't make any goddamn sense. You despised looking at them. Looking at them and thinking that maybe he did actually deserve the things he had. The fame, all his accomplishments, all the things you didn't get to have through something that was no fault of your own. Maybe he deserved it, maybe you were wrong. Maybe your hatred was misplaced. It wasn't so much the painter himself that made your blood boil, although he definitely was an unlikeable person, it was the reminder of what you could have had if the world had been any less unfair.

They looked nice.

His paintings they.... looked nice.

You wondered if he always drew the hunter chasing him or if it was nothing but a coincidence that all the pictures you'd gathered were attempts of depicting you. If one were to utilize logic here, then they'd simply have asked. But if you were to ask him you'd have to admit that you paid enough attention to his paintings to pick up on this detail.

And by God, you would rather die than admit that you liked them.

Let me know if you want a continuation to like... enemies to lovers this. If you do then you can send in another request right now but please know that I won't get to it until much later. I'll just put it on my list so I won't forget. Again I'm not sure if this is what you wanted so I'm sorry if I did it wrong

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #edgar valden x reader #idv painter x reader #identity v painter x reader

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gildeddlily · 1 year

Text

another bram post

i can't actually function without bragging ab this man.

Just, all the jokes about him being Aya's father figure are my reason to live, but even tho that man is Father Material™ it's almost impossible he's gonna have the concrete possibility to be her father (help me).

Aya is probably too kind to let him kill his father (I hope he dies pt2) but I hope someone does something for it, yes kunikida bbg we're talking to you, free the child from the abusive parenthood please. (I see it, Bram talking seriously with a more than pissed Kunikida explaining why "a goddess shouldn't be treated that bad") (Them realising they have to coparent a child) (Bram thinking Kunikida is one of his concubine im crying)

Bram will probably die, and I just know it. what are the alternatives? that he survives and they remove the sword, and goes back to sleep. He could join the ADA, or he could become an ally for them to be woken up when needed (hc in that universe Aya wakes him up to watch teenage mutant ninja turtles together) but it's truly unrealistic, more an utopia, and I only expect the worst. So yes, I've read a fic with him dying and giving his powers to Aya, but thinking about it, if they remove the sword Bram takes control of the vampires, and they could become his "siblings" (image bram calling akutagawa brother- oh right he already did it). We see that Bram stopped turning ppl into vampires when they all got killed, starting to consider his ability a calamity (im crying), but if he simply let them have free will and live their life? like akutagawa and jouno wouldn't die. And Tecchou would have a long life crush on a vampire (he fell first and harder, change my mind)

the state of my phone rn is having every manga panel/icon with bram in like ten formats (asagiri can't give him more lines fr) (welcome me in the asagiri hate club) (stormbringer wasn't enough) (this man not being appreciated is enough)

#bungou stray dogs #bsd manga #bsd bram #im going down with this man #bram stoker #bram can you be my dad thx #bram stoker is the absolute bbg #my bbg fr #bsd #bsd chapter 106 #omw to make a post with only headcanon ab bram's appearance #i need another bram edit with masquerade

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thesherrinfordfacility · 6 months

Note

Follow-up from my sister: she'd like me to add that she makes no promises it's not the lighting, but that if it isn't, she's quite sure it's not the roots, because the rest of his hair is fine and it's a uniform, very deliberate-seeming change between solid brown and solid red, no layers or patches or ombre that would suggest dye growing out, like "they either forgot to dye the sideburns and then remedied that halfway through filming, which I somehow find unlikely, or had them red initially, then bleached the colour out and re-dyed it brown at some stage, which is ludicrous".

hello anon darling!!!💕 right! ive gone through this again because. my fixation on crowley's sideburns is ever dormant and this has only stoked it, im afraid ✨

ive gone through and taken what im hoping is a fair number of screenshots of each episode of s2, to try to pinpoint the trajectory that your sister suggested!!! im completely on board with what she says, they definitely seem to vary in colour, but my main thoughts are this:

(screenshots, btw, are under the cut in chron. order)

i do still think there is something to the short vs. long sideburns. i came up with a completely ridiculous time-travel theory (honestly just for the giggles), but regardless of how outlandish it is, the varying length is the element that i think is hardest to explain away. the only thing that would make sense is the DW thing, but i think the dates pretty much debunked that, or alternatively there was another project that dt was working on, and the timings of it were cutting fine with having to do pick-ups/any AP for s2, hence having to keep the long/short sideburns

following on from this, i do think crowley was intended, at the start of filming (im sure someone with receipts will be able to negate this for me - more than welcome!), to have short sideburns. reason i say this is because, to my eye, the beginning of ep5 has them cut very neatly, and they are more uniformly red (it's during the gabriel confrontation scene onwards that they change to long). this compared to his short sideburns in ep1, for example, where it looks like (again, only going based on sight and 1080p quality) his roots have grown out slightly, and you have an underlay of brown beneath the dyed-red ends. this therefore indicates to me that they were originally short, dyed red, but grew out over filming when scenes were shot out of sequence (would be interesting to compare this 'timeline' with michael's hair in the same sequencing!)

when crowley has long sideburns, in the 2023 scenes, they are always brown (as far as i can tell), so this would indicate to me that these scenes were filmed towards the end of the shoot, but again it's very obvious that the sideburn length changes - ie. it doesn't seem at all gradual, even if shot out of sequence - and the sideburns weren't redyed to match the rest of his hair

ep2 job scenes - i did my best, and im fairly certain they're long and brown, but it's a) hard to tell with the wig, and b) length/colour might not mean anything, it might be that whatever 'secret' the sideburn thing is potentially indicating only applies to 2023, not the flashbacks... guess it kinda depends on whether you subscribe to the notion that the flashbacks have been messed about with or not by modern-era crowley

ep3 resurrectionist scenes - honestly? god only knows. the lighting wasn't exactly conducive to empirical research (lmao who am i kidding, none of this is scientific)... but the muttons do appear, overall, to be more consistently and obviously red. im assuming that they were made from artificial hair pieces - as opposed to dt taking the time to grow them??? - and so would be easier to keep uniform in colour anyway

ep4 1941 scenes - i mean, yeah, they are long and brown (except the very end scene???), and this might just be down to when it was filmed in the schedule... again, same as bildad, it might not really mean anything, unless you consider that 1941 has been messed about with too.

so conclusion for me at the moment is that the colour variation is down to hair simply growing out/not wanting to damage his hair by constantly rebleaching (?) and re-toning, but where it coincides with whether the sideburns are short or long remains - and probably will for the rest of my days on this good planet - an intriguing mystery!!!✨

#good omens #ask #s2 meta #crowley meta #flashback meta #batshit time travel spec

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stevetonyweekly · 2 years

Text

SteveTony Weekly - Oct 9th

Welcome back! Here’s what I read last week. I’m thinking I might start adding some of my notes/thoughts to the list--what do we think?

***Marks my recent favorites

Counterpart by sara_holmes

coun•ter•part [koun-ter-pahrt] [noun] 1. a person or thing closely resembling another, especially in function. 2. a copy; duplicate. 3. one of two parts that fit, complete, or complement one another.

Just because Hydra used the DNA of a Captain America from another dimension to create a lab-grown, six-year-old super-soldier, it doesn't mean that said six-year old super-soldier is biologically Steve's, right?

(Where Steve wants to ban Clint from bringing things home from alternative dimensions, until he doesn't.)

This was a reread and I'm working my way through the series again--I really love it, and the way Steve doesn't immediately want to become a father.

You or Someone Like You by scifigrl47

Bad things happen when you punch holes in the fabric of time and space. Things get lost.

Including things that really, really shouldn't be misplaced.

I am a huge fan of scifigrl's depiction of DUM-E and DJ, and while I've read most of the series, I hadn't read this and it was amazing.

practice makes perfect by starklystar

“Marry me.”

Tony’s words are muffled by the food in his mouth, but Steve’s sharp ears pick them up anyway, and he freezes as he hears Rhodes huff.

“For the five hundredth and sixty first time, no.”

“Honeybear, light of my life, these waffles are to die for.”

Rhodes’ eyebrows rise. “I thought we agreed: no more dying.”

“Spoilsport,” Tony nibbles on some more of the waffles.

Was that – did Tony just propose to Rhodes? For the sake of waffles? What did that make Steve’s pancakes?

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

Or, 69 times Tony proposes, and the one time Steve says yes.

Jealous Steve is one of my favorite Steves. And this was so nicely done.

A Certain Affinity by miobambiino

"They were like that a lot nowadays, ever since they got back from their little kidnapping escapade. Sure, they’d been close before then - they all had - but now… it was different. They were close, close. Squishing up next to each other, whispering to one another, playing with each others hair, apparently.

Steve inwardly grimaced at himself. He was being bitter and petty, he knew that. But he couldn’t figure out why, though. His teammates were getting along, which is only a good thing. Especially considering how they started things off way back on the helicarrier. But since when were Tony and Nat this cosy?"

Aka Steve is jealous of Tony and Nat's friendship, gets the wrong idea, and requires a little help from Nat herself to get some well-needed perspective.

This has a really fantastic friendship between Nat and Tony that I adored.

Everybody Wonders (What It Would Be Like to Love You) by SoldiersShield

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

Or: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.

Favorite tropes--gala and jealous Steve doing on a pretty Tony. There's literally nothing about this fic I don't adore.

Flirt with Me by holmesintardis

In his own way, Steve finally comes to grips with Tony's incessant flirting.

Tony can't say he doesn't love Steve's methods.

tell me that you love me by idacarvalli

Tony’s not jealous. He swears he’s not.

It’s just that Sheriff Steve Rogers has been hanging around that gal Sharon Carter a little bit more than Tony would have liked.

But he’s not jealous. He’s really not.

I love Timely and these two idiots dancing around each other.

Tree of Man by KandiSheek

Steve fell in love with Tony’s work long before they even got together. The things Tony can do with nothing but a few pieces of rope are incredible, taking something that society loves to view as perverted and turning it into fine art. So when Tony asks him to be a part of his next installation, Steve doesn't even hesitate.

This was just so visually beautiful I loved everything about it.

More Than Friends by Pearl_Unplanned

After the first time they have sex, nothing really changed.

The fighting didn't stop. If anything, it got a bit more heated, they got a bit closer, and after everyone thought they'd left to go cool off, the angry sex was great.

But that was just about it. More sex, not that Tony could complain, because Steve was amazing in bed. Here he'd thought for so long that the man was a blushing virgin. He learned the truth before they'd even made it to the bedroom.

Tony really didn't want to complain, because this was more than he could've hoped for, but when he'd watch Steve walk into the room with that tight white shirt and those loose pants, barely hanging onto his hips, he couldn't help but want more than just sex.

Or the one where a friends with benefits relationship may be more than just that.

Movie Night by tinystark616

Tony thinks this is going to be just like any other movie night, but Steve has other ideas.

sEMI-PUBLIC SEX GUYYYYYYS! So hot.

Night Encounter by Nimiamlove (orphan_account)

He spends so much time with machines that he forgets he isn’t one of them, and in times like this, his human body reminds him of it.

He wanted a hug, a long lasting one, Tony deduced with sadness.

A tiny piece of fluffy angst and our favs taking care of each other.

Keep on Beating by itsallAvengers

There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

I'm a huge sucker for Steve listening to Tony's heartbeat and this is so well done.

Unfurl Your Gown by theladyingrey42

"I feel ridiculous." Steve scowls at his drink and pretends he's not shifting just to feel the skirt against his thighs.

Steve is so soft in this, so baby. He needs so much love.

Everybody Wants Some by Maeglin_Yedi

Tony gets propositioned. A lot.

A+ jealous Steve content.

Get Me Off This Ride by ozuma

An omega and an alpha walk into an elevator. Wait, stop me if you've heard this one before...

Heat and A/B/O dynamics are sometimes exactly what you need.

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours) by starklystar

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

Misunderstandings and sappy boys in love.

The privilege to witness idiocy by BladeoftheNebula

Stark took a deep breath and let it out, visibly steeling himself. “I think my new husband is trying to kill me.”

In which retired navy man Anthony Stark reveals a terrible theory about his new spouse and Captain James Rhodes regrets the choices he has made in his life.

What You Don't Know by Sineala

In 1941, two strangers meet in a bar. And then Captain America meets Iron Man. And then Steve Rogers meets Tony Stark. They get it right. Eventually. And also they fall out of an airplane.

I absolutely adore the way Sineala writes Steve and identity porn.

Liquid Lunch by romanoff

Tony's turned into a vampire. It's very sad for everyone involved.

Especially Steve. Not just because Tony keeps trying to eat him alive. There are other reasons too.

“Just let me try a little bit,” he pleads “I won’t take all of it, oh, just a little taste—” He presses his palms flat against the glass and tries to scrape his teeth down the window “I can, I can control myself, promise.” And then he turns those eyes on Steve, looks him straight on, and they’re pleading, and innocent, and really, it’s selfish of him not to give Tony his blood, why would he not, he can’t see any justifiable reason, so he just starts rolling up his sleeve and nodding as Tony salivates into the glass.

This was excellent. Had a few well done OC's. Also vampires for spooky season.

Held Series by romanoff

It's not the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to Tony, but it's up there.

Soft BDSM dynamics and healing together. Loved it so much.

#stevetony #stevetony weekly #stony #stony fic #stony fic rec #fic rec #stevetony fic

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morganaseren · 1 year

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Had a thought, wanted to share it with you. What would have happened if Niamh, instead of completely disappearing from everyone, had been eventually found by Morrigan half way through her self imposed exile? They're not romantically together, but they do stay together for the most part, separating when they need to do something on their own but coming back to the other when they've finished.

Niamh still wants stays relatively hidden when she realizes that Morrigan has to settle down for a bit somewhere for something or other, so Morrigan's usually the one to find Niamh again when it's time to move on.

Just wanted to share that. :)

Hm! 🤔 I can't imagine anything would change too drastically if we're setting this in line with the events of Niamh's canon verse, but let's see! 😄

If Niamh is in her self-imposed exile, then that means the Dark Ritual route was never taken, which would result in her sister Saoirse (my canon Hero of Ferelden) still dying from striking the final blow against the Archdemon.

Per canon, if the Dark Ritual isn't used, then Morrigan actually leaves her companions before the final battle.

Per your suggestion, if Morrigan actually manages to finds Niamh abroad halfway into her exile, then it would be 9:36 Dragon by then. Lorcan (the old but powerful warhound of Niamh's late sister) would have just died a few months prior, so she welcomes the unexpected reunion.

Canonically, Morrigan has always been one of Niamh's favorite companions. With Niamh, Morrigan would have considered the other mage to be one of her truest and greatest friends—moreso than even Saoirse.

Bear in mind that Morrigan grew up in a relatively isolated location all her life with a mother who abuses her in various ways and plans on using her for her own nefarious schemes. Morrigan's always fought to free herself from any measure of her mother's control, but while Flemeth forcing Morrigan to join the Saoirse's group was met with initial hesitation, Morrigan likely would have later viewed it as the greatest, unexpected gift. She gets the freedom she's always wanted while plotting ways to rid herself of Flemeth permanently.

Of course, as Flemeth's daughter, Morrigan would have access to so much magical knowledge prior to meeting Saoirse's group, which means Morrigan would have known there was a way to save any of the Wardens from being sacrificed in that final battle. She likely just wouldn't have revealed it. There's in-game dialogue with Morrigan that reveals she suspected the Warden would have gotten rid of her in some manner at the first opportunity.

In truth, I really don't think she would have considered offering the Dark Ritual at all if there hadn't at least been some measure of respect for The Warden. In my world state, however, I've always headcanoned that the only reason Morrigan brought it up at all is due in large part to Niamh. Morrigan is fully aware that going through with the ritual means she's falling directly into yet another one of Flemeth's schemes, but she does it anyway because she knows what the alternative is. Saoirse is the very last of Niamh's family (at least that's what they all think at the time). Given Niamh's kind heart, Morrigan doesn't want to see how badly Saoirse's sacrifice could destroy her.

Unfortunately, Saoirse refused the ritual no matter how Morrigan argued over its necessity with her. Then, with Saoirse's death, you can certainly still sees the scars of what such trauma did to Niamh in OtSttCA. 😭

When they're reunited again, I think one of the first things Morrigan would have done is apologize to Niamh. Since Niamh grew up relatively sheltered as a Circle Mage, I don't think Morrigan ever would have imagined Niamh would have just left everything she ever knew behind as a means of escaping her pain. Otherwise, I think Morrigan would have stayed with her even if just for a little while.

Of course, Niamh never would have held Morrigan's departure against her. She's just happy to see that she's alright, and I think she would have enjoyed Morrigan's company.

Per canon, Morrigan would have arrived in the Imperial Court to serve as Celene's Arcane Advisor in 9:38 Dragon, so there's a period of at least two years where Morrigan can stay with Niamh.

During that time, I imagine Morrigan would teach Niamh shapeshifting. With that type of magical knowledge, however, it would likely become even easier for Niamh to hide from anyone trying to look for her. What Templar or Seeker would suspect a wild animal when they're searching for a runaway apostate after all?

Of course, Morrigan would know the difference, but it does get a little more difficult the more seamless Niamh makes her transformations. For example, while Morrigan would probably suspect a wolf to be Niamh since its one of the woman's favored forms, her behavior and actions in her shifted form are remarkably well-done. Thus, Morrigan could find a black wolf standing over a fresh kill and wouldn't immediately say with certainty it was Niamh until those gold eyes briefly flashed silver for instance.

When Morrigan has to be somewhere to investigate a lead or search through a tome found in some library somewhere, Niamh joins her but in one of her shifted forms for the most part: a raven perched on her shoulder, a cat curled up on the library table as Morrigan reads, or some mysterious wolf that curiously appears at the edge of a town but makes no moves to enter it, etc.

Even when Morrigan does leave to go join Celene's court, she makes a point of visiting Niamh. It gets difficult at times because Niamh's constantly on the move by then, especially in the wake of the destruction of Kirkwall's chantry. In-game in Origins, there is a ring that Morrigan can give you, which I believe is how she finds the Warden in Fort Drakon. I think you can only get it with a romanced Warden though, but since she's so close with Niamh, I imagine she'd offer it to her. Otherwise, Morrigan would be stuck constantly guessing which country Niamh would be in next. 😂

So honestly? Only a couple things would change in this given scenario: Niamh's less lonely and she's added shapeshifting to her already impressive arsenal of magic by the time she returns to Ferelden in 9:41 to secretly attend the Conclave.

I'm sure Leliana will be utterly pleased to know that Morrigan hid Niamh's location from her all these years... 🤣

SInce Niamh and Morrigan aren't romantically together per your message, I don't foresee this becoming as lengthy as some of the other AUs I've already written for, but I think this would make for an interesting one-shot if nothing else.

#lee's inbox #morrigan #thanks for sending this in!

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tehuti88-art · 1 year

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12/9/22: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Lance Corporal Turquoise Rat. He's one of the American forces and he's clairvoyant; his visions (which he doesn't control) have proven useful more than once. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

TUMBLR EDIT: Turquoise is one of my older Trench Rats characters, dating almost to the beginning. So he's been around a while. You can find an excerpt from his POV in the earliest surviving version of the story dating to 1990 in Anna Julian's entry. His personality has gone through various changes as well though not as drastic as certain others. In the earliest version, he was just cranky--in fact I'm not even sure if the psychic aspect existed yet--and certain aspects of his character and plot were interchanged with Doomsday Rat's. By the circa-2000 reboot, he was still quite pissy but it had more nuance I wasn't able to outline before losing interest. There was also an intended subplot involving his anemia. I just went and looked over the two chapters from his POV and he has an even worse attitude than I'd remembered, haha. It looks like I was trying to convey the idea of him being an empath as well as a clairvoyant, with a German patient inexplicably appealing to him for help he can't give. He's indeed strongly empathic, though this is tied in with his psychic abilities.

Despite being a "furry" story set in an obvious alternate timeline, the focus on the Doomsday serum, and all that funny business that occurs in Ultima Thule (and even those latter two are presented more as alternative science), the Trench Rats series is intended to be mostly in the realm of realism; I try to avoid most fantasy or "magical" aspects. Turquoise (and his German counterpart Nixie, who shows up later) is a big exception to this, representing the main "supernatural" aspect of the story. You'll notice I refer to him specifically as clairvoyant. I consider this different from precognition and retrocognition--one involves perceiving things in the present, one in the future, one in the past, and for the most part, Turquoise receives visions of the present--but Wikipedia includes them all under the label of "clairvoyance," and Turquoise does indeed have a few visions of a different sort that seem precognitive, so...*shrug.* Mainly, though, he "sees" present-moment events, or things that are immediately about to occur, just usually at a distance. The main example is him "seeing" the attack on Trench Rat Headquarters while his company is away, and seeing an ambush the Germans set up targeting his company along the way. His vision saves his own company (actually Copper Rat's company) from slaughter. But anyway. Turquoise was heavily influenced by the character Fiver from Watership Down (I watched this movie when I was way too young), both in his psychic abilities and in his physical weakness; the latter's been largely downplayed by now though I think it's still there. A lot of this is touched on by his past so I guess I'll start at the beginning.

Most of the characters who've been opening up to me lately are the newer characters on the canine side of the story, so Turquoise hasn't been terribly forthright yet. What I know of him (most info predating this 2021-23 reboot) is he's Irish-American and Roman Catholic, I think his recent ancestors/family immigrated to the US to escape the Potato Famine, his only remaining close family is his mother, and he was a very sickly child, nearly dying when he was young--it was this near-death experience that triggered his visions and psychic abilities, being the first time he left his body uncontrolled. When his mother learns of what he experienced while ill, she encourages him to try to welcome and cultivate these abilities: Turns out he's from a long line of "sensitives," as they're called, and to them, this is nothing unusual. (Goofy aside: I sometimes like to imagine this story was published in various formats including a graphic novel and a couple of TV cartoon adaptations... 😳 Shut up. Anyway, details vary drastically between the versions, with one of the TV adaptations being really "dumbed down" at first, more comedic, with numerous character name and personality changes. For example, Klemper is a goofy, chirpy Boy Scout/Hitler Youth-type kid rather than the foul-mouthed, meth-addled twink he is in the "real" story (this makes him one of the characters most hated by (my nonexistent) fans), Schavitz (bearing his original name Schavich) is more bluster than threat, and Turquoise is instead named Sensitive. I won't get further into this dorky daydream, just wanted to point out this alternate name and had to give the convoluted explanation why he has an alternate name.) Granted, all the sensitives in the family have so far been women...Turquoise is the exception. This doesn't matter to his pious mother, who views their abilities as a gift from God. Now that her son shows these talents, it's his duty to learn how to control them.

He isn't terribly sure how to do this, though, and finds the entire thing frustrating, especially since his clairvoyant abilities seem so useless--what does it matter if you can see what's occurring miles away, if you can't be there to do anything about it? His tendency to leave his body is just as pointless to him; he can't control it, it happens at moments of extreme stress and serves no useful purpose for him. He makes a few halfhearted efforts to placate his mother, but he's just not into this psychic thing, and would prefer if he didn't have this problem, because yes, randomly lapsing into trances strikes him as a problem. He finally finds a sense of purpose in joining the military (he does so while still underage, like Otto Himmel and Godfrey Klemper), and is recruited to be among a small group of soldiers sent to Germany early on, when rumors of upcoming war are still only that, rumors. He's not sure why he feels compelled to do this, just that he has a strange feeling, a very bad feeling, that SOMETHING is either going to happen or is already happening, and in its sheer horror it's going to overshadow many other horrible things to come. He tells no one--nobody would believe him, probably not even his mother--but his vague visions show him endless seas of blood, endless mountains of bodies, millions upon millions of the dying and dead and plumes of smoke choking the sky. To sit back and watch whatever will unfold next seems unconscionable to him, so he heads overseas, not quite sure what he expects.

(Much of what I'm getting into now was revealed more recently.)

Turquoise meets up with his tiny unit of soldiers sent to perform reconnaissance in German territory. A new political party, the National Socialists, have risen to power, and there's intelligence from America's European allies that they're engaged in some pretty suspicious activity. It starts out with them expelling certain citizens, then stripping them of their rights, but now there are hazy rumors of some sort of "camps" and, even more alarming, experiments. None of it means much, but they're there to learn what they can. Turquoise and the others are introduced--the characters who later on become known as Battleship Gray, Blue, Copper, Doomsday, Indigo, Silver, and Teal--and they head toward a nearby city to peek at what's going on. Intel has described some sort of building complex, and something called "Projekt Weltuntergang"--Project Doomsday. Whatever it may be, it doesn't sound good.

The little unit works at gathering what intel it can, but considering how few of them there are, and how limited their resources, the info they obtain is limited, too. They do manage to get word back to the US that the Nazis are indeed running some sort of medical experiment with human (well, rodent) test subjects--Project Doomsday--but the details are hazy. It seems to center around the prospect of creating a "super soldier." A few in the unit scoff at this, assuming the Nazis aren't "all there"; while a few take it more seriously. Turquoise takes to sketching in a little notebook he carries on him--his disturbing visions only seem to be increasing, and he finds it helps a little to just let his pencil wander while his mind does the same. His fellow unit member who is later nicknamed Copper rifles through his belongings one day when he's preoccupied and digs out the notebook, flipping through it; he's noticed how Turquoise doodles in it while staring off into space, not even paying attention to what he's drawing. Within, he finds ragged sketches of corpse piles, raging fires, smoke plumes, rivers of blood, walking skeletons. He closes the notebook and puts it back. Normally this is when somebody would report Turquoise to their superiors, but Copper refrains. He's Louisiana Creole, Catholic yet superstitious, and he knows "hoodoo" powers when he sees them. He decides to keep a discreet eye on Turquoise for signs of what to expect.

Things take an abrupt turn when the Nazis attack the tiny unit, having at last caught on to them--the one who'll soon come to be known as Doomsday, for obvious reasons, is captured. The others hole up in an old trench in the countryside and miraculously fend off their attackers, but it's a harsh blow, and the Nazi unit won't let them escape--they're pinned down with dwindling supplies and a dying radio. They send word to a British outpost of what happened, along with a plea for help, but they aren't sure if it gets through, and all they can do is huddle and wait. Turquoise is tense, but more worried for their missing companion than for themselves--he knows they'll make it even if he's not sure how.

Unknown to them, the Americans had already been working on establishing a battalion to set up headquarters in German territory and look into both stealing Nazi documentation (they've also learned of "Project Doomsday") and to free potential captives if they can be found. The British receive the distress message and send it along. The Americans hurry to cobble together the rest of the battalion, called the Trench Rats, and they arrive in Germany and send help. The handful of soldiers are rescued in the nick of time (the corporal, Drake, literally drops into their trench and startles them all) and brought back to the battalion, which is already constructing a hidden headquarters. When Drake gets turned around trying to find the way back, Turquoise is the one to take the lead, which surprises him--they're being very careful to maintain the secret of its whereabouts, so there's no way Turquoise should know where to go. The small group is made part of the new battalion and assigned their roles as they make plans to rescue their comrade; the newly nicknamed Turquoise becomes part of Charlie Company, which is led by Copper Rat. The rescue itself is successful, yet the Rats incur another loss when Teal is captured instead. By now the Nazis have overcome their initial superstition of the Trench Rats (they wear modified Prussian uniforms of the Great War in an attempt to spook the enemy into thinking they're ghosts) and are even more on their guard, so Teal's potential rescue is even more complicated, and since the Nazis spread rumors that he's been executed, he sadly ends up on the back burner in the shuffle of all the other things the Rats are dealing with. (Teal's case ends up being one of the Trench Rats' greatest oversights.)

Turquoise isn't much of a people person, for the very reason that being around people for too long is exhausting and painful for him; he's easily overwhelmed by the wash of emotions he feels when in others' company. To him, this is normal; he knows it's not normal for others though, so he can't talk about it. It's easiest to just keep to himself as much as possible. Charlie Company gives him this opportunity whenever it's their turn to patrol the trenches the Rats dig at the edge of the woods within which HQ is located; he sits off by himself and keeps an eye on things and occasionally doodles in his little notebook. He still draws pictures of corpse-mountains and walking skeletons but new images have crept in among them, tunnels with walls of earth cascading down, the sky falling. He knows it means something but not what. The what becomes clear only some time later when the location of Trench Rat Headquarters is leaked to the Germans and they launch a coordinated attack on all the companies; I can't find my company list at the moment 😳 but I seem to recall Delta and Echo Companies are the ones patrolling the trenches that day, Charlie Company (Turquoise's) is out in the woods, and Alpha and Bravo Companies are at Headquarters. Delta and Echo suffer few losses while successfully fending off the Germans; Alpha and Bravo are the least fortunate, suffering heavy losses when HQ is bombed from above, caving the walls in and burying many of them alive. Sgt. Camo Rat, Cpl. Drake Rat, and Cpl. Anna Julian (the one who, it turns out, leaked the location of HQ to her SS handlers) are captured alive.

This leaves Charlie Company, which is out patrolling in the woods at the time. Turquoise has been "off" all day, distracted and tense; his feelings of foreboding just increase the longer the company walks along the forest road. It's peaceful and quiet, with no aircraft or threats overhead, so they walk openly although Copper is keeping his eyes open, and keeping them on Turquoise. When they come to a fork in the road and start to head one way, Turquoise abruptly halts, staring--it's just a rough path extending ahead of them, but in his mind he sees something else--he sees streams of blood running through the dirt, tastes the salt in his mouth, smells the gunsmoke. His feet refuse to move. He hardly notices when Copper calls the others to a halt and directs them off the path. He steps up to Turquoise and says, "Which way?" Turquoise is silent for a moment before murmuring, "We need to get back to Headquarters." Something about the look in his eyes unsettles Copper, and he directs the company to head back the way they came--though he does temporarily leave the company to take a quick but careful look along the road they just turned away from. Copper grew up hunting in the Louisiana bayou, so he knows how to sneak around and lie low. Just a few minutes of peeking around in the bushes, and he sees what they all otherwise would have missed if they'd simply gone walking through as they'd originally planned: a glint of a gun here, a helmet there. The woods along the road are riddled with camouflaged Wehrmacht troops waiting in ambush. If Charlie Company had gone that way, they would've been gunned down in an instant. Copper rejoins his company and they head back toward HQ.

They hear the chaos ahead before they see it, and pick up their pace. They meet members of Delta and Echo Companies along the way, and they race to what's left of Headquarters, which is severely damaged; most of the ground attack had been focused on the other companies, with only a handful of German soldiers on hand to find and grab Camo, Drake, and Julian, so there isn't any significant force to fight off--now it's mainly a matter of rescuing the wounded and trapped. Doomsday Rat himself has spearheaded this effort--his increased strength and stamina, a result of the experiment he was subjected to, help him push aside obstacles and dig through the earth. By now he's running on autopilot, digging and tossing aside rubble without cease, his hands torn and filthy and bloody. The newly arrived Rats jump right in to help, though Turquoise's ability to be useful now proves limited--he starts hyperventilating, feeling as if his chest is being crushed, and has to be taken aside for a presumed panic attack. He's never experienced anything quite like this before so he doesn't protest, although it wears on him that he can't do more to help.

Casualties in Alpha and Bravo Companies are massive, and the Rats contact their allies to get in touch with the US. Before long, replacement troops are sent, including a new sergeant and corporal, Black and Gold. The theory is that Teal Rat, whom they now know is in fact still alive, gave away the HQ location to the enemy, though some of them are doubtful, including Turquoise; he didn't get along well with Teal, but Teal didn't seem like the type. Damage to one wing of HQ is so bad they can't dig their way through it, and thus can't recover anyone who may be left within; so it's unclear at first what Camo's, Drake's, and Julian's fates are. The Rats rebuild what they can and set back to work, stealing Nazi documentation and helping prisoners and refugees, because it's clear now what the Nazis are up to: Forcing "undesirables" into camps to be worked to death or outright killed. The emaciated dead are often piled like cordwood, and many are shoved into giant ovens to be burned. Turquoise's earlier visions make a lot more sense, now.

While patrolling out in the country, a group of the Rats come under fire from a sniper (this could be Ratdog, I'm not sure) and since they can't pinpoint his location, they seek shelter. They spot a young woman waving them forward--they have no idea who she is, but follow her as they have no other choice. She leads them into the cellar of a farmhouse where they stay until the gunfire ceases; eventually she lets them up into the house itself, where the Rats meet her family. This is Nixie (a character dating at least to the circa-2000 reboot but whom I've never spent much time on, for reasons that'll probably become clear in this entry), and she and her family oppose the Nazi regime; they aren't part of any of the organized resistance efforts the Rats know of, but they do what few small acts they can to help. When Nixie takes Turquoise's hand, he feels a jolt, and a barrage of unfamiliar images flashes through his mind; Nixie lets go, and the look on her face tells him she just experienced the same thing. Neither of them says anything about it, though, being too overwhelmed; the two groups part ways, though Nixie's family promises to offer the Rats what help and information they can, and the Rats, in return, promise to bring some supplies and food the family has been needing. Turquoise is lost in thought as they leave, still trying to process everything. It's startling for him to suddenly know everything about a person--in that instant he saw Nixie's entire life unfold, and he's pretty sure she saw his. There's one thing he doesn't know, however, and this is that now, the two of them are inextricably linked.

This becomes clear only when, one day not long after, something hits him like a mental ton of bricks--he's nearly knocked breathless from the shock of it. A feeling of sheer terror and grief overwhelms him and he has no idea what it is until a voice seems to cry out in his head, "Amerikanischer Soldat!--American soldier!" Turquoise doesn't speak German, but it's as if the voice is translated, and he recognizes it as Nixie's. Somehow, she's in his head, calling out to him directly. He doesn't know how to react but sends out a vague mental question wondering what's happening. Nixie responds in kind, not with words, but with emotions--primarily raw panic--something terrible is happening, and she's calling out to him for help, since she doesn't know who else she can ask. Unfortunately, Turquoise is too far away from her home to go and directly help, so he does the next best thing he can think of--he shuts his eyes, calls up the image of her, and wraps his own mental image's arms around her. "Nixie" embraces him back, and the overpowering feelings of fear abruptly fall away as if they're enclosed in their own little bubble, away from everything else. Turquoise makes sure to keep his arms around her lest the connection break; he looks around at the mental bubble surrounding them, but everything outside is indistinct. He can feel something terribly unpleasant occurring just outside his realm of sight, but at the very least he can try to keep Nixie's mind safe, in here. He waits a bit for her to calm down.

Turquoise: "You can understand me?"

Nixie: (nods)

Turquoise: "We're safe here, I guess."

Nixie: "D...danke. I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

Turquoise: "It's all right."

Nixie: "I didn't mean to drag you into this but I didn't know who else I could reach. You're the only one I know who can do this."

Turquoise: "It's all right."

Nixie: "We tried to keep them out but they have guns."

Turquoise: "Who? What's going on?"

Nixie: "Soldiers. German soldiers. I think they suspect. They threatened my parents. We didn't tell them about your people. We didn't tell them anything but it doesn't matter, they don't believe us."

Turquoise: "Your parents, are they all right? Have they hurt them--?"

Nixie: "Not yet. I think they knew they wouldn't talk. Not even at gunpoint. One of them grabbed my arm. Said if guns don't convince them to talk then maybe I will. He pulled me into the bedroom." (hugs Turquoise tighter, pleading) "Bitte, don't let me go. I don't want to go back yet."

Turquoise finally gets exactly what's happening. He feels awful that he can't do anything else, but keeps mental hold of Nixie, promising not to let go. Despite this vow, after a while he feels her growing further away, less distinct; he tries to look at her, and she looks back, but before his eyes she starts fading away. He calls out--although he doesn't know her name--and tries to keep holding on but it's as if she turns to mist and slips through his fingers. Then, just like that, he's awake again--letting out a startled angry yell at the abrupt jolt of pain. His whole body hurts as if he's been beaten, but it was the severing of the connection between Nixie and himself that hurt the most. He's overcome by fear that this must mean she's been killed; he can't think of a legitimate excuse to request a unit to return to her property, but he does manage to convince Burgundy, the battalion's surgeon, to accompany him there under the pretext that the family had requested a medical visit previously. The two arrive at the farmhouse but before they can go inside, Burgundy grabs Turquoise's arm and hauls him back, pulling his pistol. Turquoise looks up and sees what Burgundy noticed--the front door has been broken in. He pulls his own gun although he doesn't sense any threat. With Burgundy leading the way, they creep into the house and start peering around, searching the silent rooms; there are obvious signs of violence, yet nobody in sight. "The cellar," Turquoise says, as it's the only place they haven't searched yet, and as they descend, his feeling of fear--which he realizes isn't his feeling--grows stronger. They at last locate Nixie's family huddled in the far corner, all of them alive. Nixie is in rough shape--it's obvious she's been beaten. As soon as she sees Turquoise, however, her eyes light up and she says in halting English, "Amerikanischer Soldat. You come for me."

Burgundy speaks fluent German, and this, as well as the red cross on his helmet, help convince the family to come out of the cellar and into the light where he can look them over. He questions Nixie's parents while checking their relatively mild injuries; Nixie holds Turquoise's hand tight the entire time, though he can feel that she isn't afraid anymore; the emotion of gratitude is palpable. He has to coax her into letting go of him so Burgundy can check her out privately; her fear spikes a little, but disappears when he says she can trust Burgundy. They go into the next room. Nixie's parents sit silent nearby, staring at the floor; Turquoise says nothing. He can sense their emotions, but most of all he can sense Nixie's--the shame is crushing. He excuses himself to go outside and get some air.

Burgundy joins him a bit later and confirms the story Nixie had told Turquoise in his vision: Several German soldiers broke into the house and threatened the family, demanding whatever information they had on the Trench Rats. When they refused to answer, one of the soldiers dragged Nixie off to the bedroom, saying, "If our guns won't make you talk, maybe the Fräulein's screams will." Nixie has all the signs of having been beaten and raped. Burgundy gave her what medical attention he could, though she refuses to accompany them back to Trench Rat Headquarters; she comes out to wish Turquoise farewell, grasping his hands and smiling at him. Her reaction confuses him: "I didn't stop it, I didn't get here in time to help you." Nixie replies, "You help. You make it go away. Keep me safe. I help you. If I can. Danke, Amerikanischer Soldat."

Turquoise can't think of how a farm girl can help him out, yet she does, when some time later the Rats are attacked by a group of Nazi soldiers with a strange type of gun they've never seen before--it doesn't shoot bullets, instead it sends out some kind of pressurized blast. Turquoise is the one to bear the brunt of this, the blast sending him flying and slamming him to the ground. He can literally feel himself leave his body--a glance over his shoulder, and he sees himself, lying on the ground, eyes wide and blank and blood streaming from his mouth and nose, the other Rats hurrying to surround him. Then, it feels as if he's being yanked by a chain and dragged at overwhelming speed across the universe itself; he cries out in pain and surprise, then abruptly jerks to a halt. Blinks his eyes open, looks around. Sees just swirling haziness surrounding him. When he looks down at himself, he's hazy and indistinct; he sees a fragile silvery strand coming out of his chest. While he's marveling over this, something glows in front of him, then takes shape--it's Nixie, and she too has an odd silvery cord attached to her. When she sees him her face lights up again and she hurries forward to take his hands; when they touch he feels the jolt, and both of them become clearer and more solid.

Nixie: "I got you!"

Turquoise: "What is this? What happened?"

Nixie: "What do you remember last?"

Turquoise: (thinking) "Something hit me. Something hard. I landed on the ground..." (confused) (looks around) "Where is this? What are we doing here?"

Nixie: "You left yourself. You nearly died. You see this...?" (takes hold of his silver cord) "It shouldn't look like this, it should look like mine."

Turquoise: "What is this thing--? How do I get it off?"

Nixie: "Nein! You don't! If it breaks, you can't go back."

Turquoise: "Back where--?"

Nixie: "Your body. Your life. You saw it, ja?--on the ground."

Turquoise: (growing alarmed) "I'm dead...?"

Nixie: "Not yet. But almost. If you'd kept going. I found you, though. It's not time yet, you wouldn't be here talking with me, I wouldn't be able to help you stay. But I can't make you go back, you have to do it yourself."

Turquoise: "How? I don't have this ability, I don't know what this is."

Nixie: "But you do! You always have! You're just not good enough."

Turquoise: "What--?"

Nixie: "You're not skilled enough yet. You need to practice. Remember--I saw your life, and you saw mine. We're the same, you and me. We were born like this. I've never met anyone else like this. Your talent is so strong, but you need to practice it."

Turquoise: "But...I've never seen this thing before." (takes the string)

Nixie: "It was always there, believe me. How do you think you were able to see things? Things far away no one else can see? This is how. You're not good at it yet, though. The things you see are foggy, you don't see them well, ja? Like looking through...ah...faraway spectacles?" (pantomimes)

Turquoise: "Binoculars."

Nixie: "Ja! Das Fernglas. Binoculars."

Turquoise: "Why didn't it translate that...? This is weird."

Nixie: "After a while you don't ask why, you just ask how. But the way you've seen things is like through binoculars. Far away, out of focus. You practice, you see things clearer, closer. You've always been able, like me. Which means you can go back. You just have to follow this." (takes string)

Turquoise: "I just...follow it?"

Nixie: "Ja, it's not so hard." (takes his arm) "I'll be holding on to you. Like you did to me. I'll make sure you make it."

Turquoise: "How do I start?"

Nixie: "Your Herz, ja...?" (touches his chest) "Listen to what it says."

Turquoise isn't sure how this goes but decides to just try to go with it. He takes a breath, shuts his eyes, focuses on his heart thudding in his chest, envisions it attached to the string. Feels as if his feet are leaving the "ground," although there's no ground to stand on--he feels a bite of terror, but Nixie squeezes his arm--"That's it! Keep trying. I'll hold on to you." Slowly, he feels like he's floating backwards, wind whistling past, but Nixie keeps hold, so he manages to keep himself calm, especially since he suspects if he panics, he'll lose whatever this is. As he starts moving faster, and faster, though, he can't fight down the fear anymore, especially when Nixie says she has to let him go. "I'm falling!" he cries, but she says this is part of it, and she can't keep holding on to him as he returns to himself. Her grasp slips away and again he calls out--again he doesn't know her name, though it doesn't matter--he grasps at thin air as he plummets back and downward, screaming as he expects to slam into the ground--then he's sucking in a sharp breath, and with a blink he sees one of his fellow Trench Rats stumble back with a startled yell. He starts gasping for air as it feels like it's been knocked out of him--his whole body hurts, but especially his heart, like it's nearly been yanked out of his chest. He's lying on the ground in the same position he last saw himself in after the Nazi weapon went off. His fellow Rats creep close again--"He had no pulse!" the one who'd yelled keeps exclaiming in disbelief--and once it's clear he's indeed alive, they carefully help him up and head back to HQ.

While the others are reporting on the worrisome new weapon, Copper, who'd been present, stops by the medical ward--Burgundy has checked Turquoise out, he's bruised and battered but otherwise all right--and says under his breath, "What's 'nixie'?" Turquoise blinks--he's never heard the word before but automatically he knows it's the farm girl's name--yet he feigns ignorance. Copper insists he yelled the word right as he came to; he's been looking around in various dictionaries and books trying to figure out what it means, the only thing he at last comes across being a type of water spirit the rustic Germans believe in. Turquoise himself has always felt a strong connection to water (he's a Cancer, and here I encourage you to check out his "theme song," "Cool Change" by Little River Band), so he's rather unsettled by this, but again says he has no idea what Copper's talking about. Copper is forced to let the matter drop.

Turquoise decides it's time to go meet Nixie directly again. She's glad to see him: "You make it back all right! Ja? I tell you so. You help me and I help you." When he asks if her name is Nixie, she confirms this (she isn't the least bit surprised that he knows), and mentions how "close" she feels to the water, so the name is fitting; she asks his name, and he gives his codename, Turquoise. "Toor...koyz? Toor-kwaz...?" Nixie echoes, perplexed; he points at the turquoise-colored band on his arm and understanding sparks: "Ah! Türkis." Her English is poor, and his German is almost nonexistent, but they seem to understand each other on some unspoken level; when he expresses confusion over this, Nixie takes his hands.

Nixie: "You see me, I see you...you remember? Ja? Mein Leben, dein Leben."

Turquoise: "Leben...?"

Nixie: "Ah...not Tod. Still working." (touches his chest) "Breathing."

Turquoise: "Alive--? Life."

Nixie: "Ja...'life.' You see me, I see you. Everything."

Turquoise: "I remember."

Nixie: "Since this..." (touches his chest, then hers, then his)

Turquoise: "Connected."

Nixie: "'Connected.' You and me, is like, Eins. One." (touches his chest) "Ein Herz. Eine Seele."

Turquoise: "Seele...?"

Nixie: (pensive) "Ah...Geist?"

Turquoise: "Spirit?" (understanding) "Soul."

Nixie: "Ja...'soul.' One soul."

Turquoise: "Eine Seele."

Nixie: (smiles)

(Authorial aside, I'm doing my best, but correct my German if need be, foreign language isn't my thing. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Over the course of the story, Turquoise and Nixie have various interactions as they get to know each other and she helps him understand the way he is; similar to his family being "sensitives," she explains that "second sight" runs in hers, so this is why her parents weren't surprised by her abilities. Despite this, Turquoise is the only other person she's met with the same abilities. She expresses an unusual insight that proves just how much she understands what he's going through, why he tends to keep to himself: "Loneliness hurt. But other people, to be with them hurt more...sometimes, is easier to just be alone."

More than once, Turquoise displays the ability to "see" someone else's entire life merely by grasping their hand, similar to what happened with Nixie--it's overwhelming for him, and startling for the other party, though unlike Nixie, they don't see his life in return, and he doesn't form the same strong connection to them as he has to her. Nixie again explains this as the connection between their souls, that generally one experiences this with only one other person. Turquoise deliberately tries this with partisan leader Didrika, though only after she challenges him to and insults him when he refuses (she'd heard the spreading rumor of him having "powers" and wanted him to prove it); he grasps her hand, sees and feels the barrage of images, then Didrika yanks her hand free, angry and alarmed. Turquoise simply says, "I'm sorry for what he did to you," but the comment has a profound effect; Didrika goes white as a sheet, and doesn't question his abilities again.

Another, although accidental, recipient of Turquoise's ability is SS captain Otto Himmel; when going to check on Turquoise after Turquoise collapses, he reaches down to push on Turquoise's arm, only to get his hand grabbed. He lets out a startled noise and pulls loose, stumbling back and drawing his gun.

Himmel: "Try that again!"

Turquoise: (panting, weak) "You're not like the others."

Himmel: "What--?"

Turquoise: "Why are you wearing that uniform? When you don't believe what they believe?"

Himmel: (alarmed look)

Turquoise: (pause) "They'll kill him if they find out, won't they?...I won't tell anyone."

Himmel: (increasingly rattled) "I don't know what you're talking about! But you try that again, and I'll put a bullet in your head!"

This incident ends up working in the Trench Rats' favor. Turquoise and Nixie are in each other's company later on when they're suddenly confronted by sniper Lt. Ratdog and his companion PFC Klemper; Ratdog despises the Trench Rats (due to a misunderstanding and a very big lie), and points his rifle at Turquoise, who puts himself in front of Nixie. Someone orders them down, however, and approaches; it's Capt. Himmel. Turquoise doesn't understand most of what's going on, just that Ratdog is angry about this--he and Himmel exchange a few words--yet obeys. Himmel strides to Turquoise and squats in front of him, talking so only he and Nixie can hear. He briefly mentions the "Wunderwaffe"--the weapon Turquoise had a run-in with--but says that while it's a genuine project, it pales in comparison to, and is basically a distraction from, the big project the Nazis are working on. Turquoise assumes he means Project Doomsday, but Himmel instead uses the term Uranspaltung--when Turquoise just looks blank, he translates it as uranium fission. "Mention it to your scientist friends," Himmel says at his perplexed look, "and they'll get it." As he starts to push himself up to leave, Turquoise asks, "Why are you telling me this?" to which Himmel replies, "I don't like being in debt." Basically, Himmel tips the Rats off that it isn't merely a medical experiment they need to worry about, the Nazis are up to even bigger, more alarming things--Turquoise mentions "Uranspaltung" to Burgundy and Doomsday, and they confirm that this most likely refers to a bomb, the destructive power of which nobody has ever heard before. It would make the rest of their bombs look like firecrackers in comparison.

(By the way, while making sure I got the term "Wunderwaffe" right--actually I'd misspelled it--I came across THIS ENTRY that is along the lines of the mysterious weapon in my story. And yep, turns out the Nazis actually did experiment with such ideas. And even crazier ones, too. Giant solar lens to fry people like ants, anyone...?)

Nuclear stuff is WAYYYYY over my head so this part of the story never goes into detail... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway, like Copper, Himmel--who has the same sort of spiritual religious bent as Turquoise (he's a lapsed Catholic and often has "visions" of his dead wife, and believes in the possibility of mystical experiences)--recognizes something supernatural is at work, and REALLY does not want his secret getting out, so he pays Turquoise back, and outs himself as being disloyal to the Nazi cause, though Turquoise does keep his promise not to tell.

Nixie gets a look at Turquoise's notebook of sketches; he expects her to be repelled, but she seems sad instead--"Feel like a curse, ja?--seeing so much bad, doing so little good." She encourages him to find a way to use his abilities to help others. Turquoise can't think of anything useful he can do--his ability to sense future events is so weak he can never act in time--but a solution at last occurs to him when the Trench Rats seek survivors in a village which was recently attacked. The closer they get to a particular house, the harder his heart beats and his breath comes; he at last comes to a halt, trying not to panic. He doesn't understand this until Copper stops beside him and says, "Which building?" He looks toward the nearby house, and Copper gestures for several Rats to enter and look around. They locate several people hiding within; Turquoise had sensed their fear and pinpointed their location, "Like a landmine detector," Copper says. Turquoise is skeptical that this can be very useful but this time Copper is the one to urge him to work on this skill--like Nixie and Turquoise's mother, he claims to come from a family of "sensitives," and while he himself inherited no such abilities, "I know hoodoo powers when I see 'em." He convinces Turquoise to walk point with him to "sniff out" living souls in the areas the Rats visit to seek refugees and wounded. And at last, Turquoise's clairvoyance and empathy prove useful rather than just bothersome; he senses the fear and pain of survivors, and the hostility of concealed enemy forces, as well as their general location. (It really speaks to the effectiveness of this technique that even the hyper-rational Burgundy accepts it at face value, theorizing that some as-yet unknown scientific principle could explain it.) It isn't perfect--the further away he is, the weaker the feeling, so he often needs to get quite close to detect exactly where someone is, plus the emotions get more overwhelming the more people there are in one area, which threatens to emotionally shut him down; as well, he can handle only so much of this at a time before getting completely exhausted and needing to rest. Still, it's far more than what the Rats had before, and he keeps at it as it dampens the guilt he still feels over being unable to help Camo and Drake or Nixie.

Word about his talent gets out, however--Didrika's partisans hear of it, and so eventually the Nazis do, too. All their scientific efforts focus on the creation of a superweapon--whether man or machine, they don't care, any will do. Project Doomsday focuses on the creation of a genetically modified super soldier, whereas the "Wunderwaffe" and uranium projects focus on a weapon itself; the Nazis end up splitting into different groups regarding which should receive the most focus. Allgemeine-SS major Ludolf Jäger, who's more interested in the preservation and advancement of life (he theoretically opposes the Final Solution, believing the Jews and others should have been expelled rather than killed), focuses on Project Doomsday (run by Himmel's brother-in-law, Dietmar Kammler)--he thinks the super soldiers could be used to, in effect, "break a few eggs to make an omelet"; whereas officials in the Waffen-SS focus on the development of a machine weapon capable of mass destruction. Still, a weapon is a weapon, and when news of Turquoise's talent finally reaches the SS, both parties are interested. In theory, someone like Turquoise would serve Jäger's purposes better, but Jäger is rather skeptical, and it's the Waffen-SS who hear about this first, anyway; a lieutenant colonel (this is a completely new character *moans* who needs a name) in the Waffen-SS expresses interest in obtaining use of someone with such abilities for scientific study, though since this doesn't involve a machine weapon he needs to get funding through Jäger's department, and presumably, Jäger's scientists will conduct the study. (Kammler is peeved about this, wanting to focus all the attention and resources on his pet project rather than on "pseudoscientific junk.")

Turquoise, as a Trench Rat, is a hard target, so they get hold of Nixie, I believe killing her parents in the process and bringing her to project headquarters where the lieutenant colonel orders her treated like any camp prisoner, having her head shorn and being put in a striped uniform. (The guards have no idea what badge to put on her. They end up going with the black triangle that marks people as mental defectives.) The building is locked down to test her abilities, and several parties are unwittingly trapped inside at the time, among them Ratdog, Klemper, Himmel, Rosina Kestler (one of Jäger's secretaries and Himmel's coworker), and Jäger himself; Jäger invites the others along to come watch while they're awaiting their chance to leave. They go to the room where the lieutenant colonel and Dr. Kammler are waiting already, and Himmel is dismayed by the state Nixie's in but can say nothing. The lieutenant colonel demands she show off her powers; she claims she has none she can overtly display, but, assuming she and Turquoise possess the ability to deflect the Wunderwaffe with their minds, he threatens her to show them SOMETHING. Nixie finally asks for his hand; he's puzzled, but removes his glove and holds it out. Nixie grasps it and he feels a jolt; a moment later he pulls free, demanding to know what she did. Nixie, struggling to recover from everything she just saw, merely replies, "You...are an awful, evil man!" She gets a swift backhand to the face, but Jäger orders the other officer not to hit her again; the other officer tries pulling rank, but Jäger reminds him who holds the purse strings. Since he didn't see any obvious display of powers either, he declares a lack of interest in the potential project and turns to leave; "And what am I to do with her, send her to the camp--?" the lieutenant colonel exclaims; Nixie realizes this could very well happen, and so abruptly speaks up.

Nixie: "Einsatzgruppen."

Jäger: (halts)

Nixie: (gruff voice, as if holding a conversation with herself) "'But we don't have the authority to make such a decision.' 'F**k authority. You think it matters? They're just Untermenschen. No one will care about them.'"

Jäger: (turns around and looks at her)

Nixie: "'Call them together, send them out and get it done.' 'But it's not even in our jurisdiction, there'll be consequences.' 'Quit being such cowards! What is it you think he can do to us? He's a pencil pusher, a glorified secretary, a bureaucrat. Just do what I say, and get it over with.'"

(Earlier in the story, Klemper literally stumbled into a pit of bodies in the countryside; he, Ratdog, Himmel, and Jäger inspected the site, concluding it was the work of the Einsatzgruppen, mobile SS killing units that tend to follow the Wehrmacht around like vultures and slaughter groups of villagers, leaving them in killing pits like the one Klemper fell into. Klemper's Wehrmacht unit has no such affiliation, but even more perplexing, this particular area is under the jurisdiction of Jäger's section of the Allgemeine-SS (the SS branch in charge of the Einsatzgruppen), yet Jäger never called together a killing unit--he's opposed to the use of Einsatzgruppen. Jäger managed to find the leader of this particular death squad, called him to his office, and upbraided him; when the guy argued back, Jäger shot him. The person actually responsible for calling out the unit had remained a mystery until now.)

Jäger: (looking at the lieutenant colonel) "You ordered the unit."

Obersturmbannführer: "She's making s**t up now! Why do you listen to her--?"

Dr. Kammler: "You were the one who called this experiment! Said to listen to her!"

Jäger: "Well?"

Obersturmbannführer: (throwing up hands) "All right! So what! Ja, I called the unit. These people are a threat that needs taking care of and your office was doing nothing."

Jäger: (getting angry) "You do not have this authority."

Obersturmbannführer: "Someone had to do something. And what does it matter? They're Untermenschen! No one cares that they're gone."

Jäger: (voice rising) "I will not tolerate people going over MY HEAD!!"

Just like last time--Jäger pulls out his pistol and shoots the officer. Nixie and Kestler cover their eyes, everyone else gapes. Jäger yells for the lieutenant colonel's men to come in and take away his body; he angrily declares the experiment over, having no interest in the talent Nixie displayed. Klemper reaches to help Nixie to her feet, but quickly pulls his hand away after she touches him; he rubs it as if shocked and Nixie murmurs, "You didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve any of it." A few guards take her away and the others leave as well.

Jäger ends up sanctioned for this--he did just murder a superior officer (albeit in a different branch of the SS), after all--but he's essential enough that to him it's merely a slap on the wrist: "I've been meaning to spend more time with Magda and die Kinder anyway." He departs while the others try to figure out what's become of Nixie; rather than go to Kammler, she was taken away in a truck. A bit of digging reveals she was taken to the nearby camp after all. This is a combination labor and extermination camp--unwanted prisoners who are taken there often end up in the gas chamber--so they're suitably alarmed, and Himmel goes to talk with the commandant. Major Konstantin Klaus is dumbfounded by his questions: "I'm used to you people taking my sticks (prisoners) away, not sending me more!" He can't remember Nixie personally until Himmel mentions she came on a truck, and gives a general date and time range; after a moment's reflection Klaus gives the day and time she left and the name of the camp she was sent to: "My camp don't take women, we barely got room for the men." So, Nixie is still alive; or at least, she was, but her fate in the next camp may not be so good.

Turquoise is likewise trying to find out what happened to Nixie; a visit to her house results in the Rats finding the bodies of her parents, so he knows she's in immense danger. They run into Ratdog and Klemper, who are seeking the train Nixie was taken away on; the two groups call a temporary truce since they have the same immediate objective. Turquoise tries focusing to sense Nixie, and, picking up a direction, goes running, Klemper following quickly after. When he briefly loses the trail, Klemper picks it up, knowing a railroad track is nearby; he damages the track with his Panzerfaust, and the train is far enough away to come to a stop to avoid derailment. (Though Klemper and one of the Rats argue briefly over this action, neither one fully understanding the other since the Rats don't speak German and the Germans don't speak English.) When the engineer and other crew angrily get out and start yelling at Klemper and Ratdog, the Rats take them captive; Turquoise hurries to the cattle cars, though it's difficult for him to do so--he can sense the emotions of everyone inside. He stops at one of the cars and isn't strong enough to force it open; Klemper breaks the lock with the butt of his rifle and they haul the doors open. The car is full of prisoners who are in moderately okay shape--they haven't spent much time in captivity yet--but hungry, exhausted, and panicked. The Germans and the Rats start helping them off; Turquoise waits until the crowd has thinned before climbing in to look at the straggling few remaining. Nixie is huddled in the corner with her arms over her head, also overwhelmed by all the emotion; yet she senses Turquoise, looks up at him, and offers a weak smile. "Amerikanischer Soldat. You come for me."

Turquoise helps Nixie to the doors and Ratdog reaches up for her; she grasps his hand on the way down but once she's safely on the ground he pulls free, rubbing his fingers and frowning at her pensively. She gives him an equally perplexed look and says in German (so Turquoise doesn't understand), "You're wrong. You're mad at the wrong people." He just looks even more confused, not knowing what she's talking about. The others open up the remaining cars and the Rats make plans to take the freed prisoners back to HQ for safety. Klemper asks Nixie if she speaks English and relays a message to Turquoise: "He say they return to das Heer...they get big trouble if they don't." Turquoise holds out his hand, Klemper reaches for it, then makes a noise, pulls back, offers a halfhearted salute instead and leaves with Ratdog. Turquoise, Nixie, the Rats, and their captives and freed prisoners head in the opposite direction.

...There'll be more to Turquoise's, and Nixie's, stories--this is already far longer than I'd thought it'd be, most of this coming to me as I typed. And already, further developments regarding Nixie's part in the plot--including me almost creating ANOTHER new character, only for one I've already made mild use of in the past to step forward and offer himself for the role--are developing. Those will have to percolate a bit longer, though. I'm pretty sure both continue to work on developing their powers to help the Allies, and the Nazis keep working on their projects aiming for a super soldier or an Übermensch, all of this leading to the craziness that ensues in Ultima Thule, though I'm so far unsure how big a role Turquoise plays in that and if Nixie plays a role at all. I do know she and Turquoise inevitably grow close since their souls are connected, after all, and I believe both survive the series, though there's always time for a more unfortunate ending to develop. :/

[Turquoise Rat 2022 [‎Friday, ‎December ‎9, ‎2022, ‏‎3:00:12 AM]]

#artists on tumblr #ibisPaint x #SketchDaily #original characters

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introvert--weeb · 3 years

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Hello Can we talk about your talent girl you're shinning ❤💅💅

But seriously you're work is awesome

Tell me plz if I can request this:

Takemitchi coming back to the past not understanding what is missing for the future

He is in one of toman meeting waiting for the "talk" but he hear some noise behind the tree 🌳and when he go to see he find micky and his gf(s/o) kissing and being lovey dovey and then he understands that she is the reason of mickeys dark implusion (dk if i wrot it good)

Like her dying in his arms so like takemitchi want to save both of them (I'm sucker for this type of angst 🤧)

Sorry if this is too much 😅you don't have to do it just wanted to cry

Love 💘😻💜💛💚🧡💘😻💜💛💚🧡

Oh my god! I'm so glad you are enjoying my writing and thank you so much! You have just made my whole week with that! ❤️😭❤️

Of course! I am a sucker for angst (if you couldn't tell from my posts) and this is just amazing!!

Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy this @kimrena-stuff

Mikey X f!reader (fluff with angst)

TW: mentions of death, sadness, blood, violence, canon divergence, alternate timeline

The future still wasn't perfect in Takemichi's eyes. Sure, most of the people he tried saving survived but there still was no happy ending for any of them. And once again, Hinata had been killed.

It was confusing him. Surely he had made sure that everything was fixed in the past? What was he missing that could have caused another bad future. The blond had even asked Chifuyu about any events that could be coming up that would cause Mikey to turn out the same as he had every other future. Was it Kisaki? But Kisaki had been fired from Toman.

Chifuyu could not offer much information, after all, he did not know the future and Mikey hadn't declared a war on any other gangs since last time Takemichi had gone back. So there was no luck in that department. Maybe they were both overlooking something small that would be massive in the future?

Takemichi was sort of thankful that he had been called up about the Toman meeting that was happening that night. He could find his answer there, he was sure. After all, each meeting he had gone to so far had provided him with an idea of what was going to happen.

He had arrived at the shrine earlier than most other members. The only ones he really knew that had arrived were Draken, Mitsuya and Chifuyu considering that was who he hitched a ride with. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except Mikey wasn't with Draken as he usually would be.

Curiosity had gotten the better of the young Toman, he had went to ask Draken where the captain was. Draken simply pointed over to a gathering of trees, explaining that Mikey could usually be found there before meetings start. That seemed to only make the boy's curiosity worse, wondering what Mikey could be doing in the cover of the trees.

He couldn't be meeting up with Kisaki still, could he? Is that why the future was not getting any better? Panic filled Takemichi as he approached the trees. If he was talking with Kisaki then that could be his only chance to stop it and create the perfect future he wanted!

It was as he was getting closer that he heard what he thought was two voices talking quietly. Not quiet enough where it could be considered whispering but enough where Takemichi couldn't make out the words being exchanged. He could tell one of them was definitely Mikey but the other could have been anyone. Had Mikey decided to ally himself with someone even more dangerous than Kisaki was proving to be? After all, nobody in Toman had been able to see Mikey in the future so it could be possible.

Trying his best to hide himself from Mikey, Takemichi peeked his head around to find a sight that made his cheeks flush a dark red. Mikey had both hands against a tree trunk with an absolute hottie between them. At first, it seemed a little alarming for the younger blond until he had noticed the soft smile and blush that dusted your features.

It was only when Mikey leaned down to press a kiss to your lips that Takemichi had felt he was overstaying his welcome. Especially since he wasn't really welcome in the first place. He was simply a creepy peeper at that moment. Why did he keep ending up in these types of moments that made him look like a creep?! First it was with Emma and now he was essentially watching his captain make out with his girlfriend.

"I love you, Mikey." Your voice was breathless from that kiss, your eyes sparkling as they stared into your lover's dark ones. It was obvious to anyone that you were both so in love with each other. Hell, you were sneaking off together at any moment you could find just to be all lovey dovey with each other.

"I love you more, Y/N."

Takemichi had caught that small snippet of your conversation as he was trying to silently walk away. He really didn't want to be caught by the Invincible Mikey staring at the loving exchange after all. But it did get him thinking. Had you ever been mentioned in the future? Surely if you were this in love, you would remain by Mikey's side forever?

The Toman meeting started as it usually did. You would be sat on the stairs while your boyfriend would address the issues related to the gang. Everyone knew who you were, you would always be at the meetings after all unless you had to attend to other business. That would explain why Takemichi hadn't seen you. You must have been attending to other things every meeting that the blond went to. All throughout the meeting, Takemichi could only try and recall if you're present in some way in the future. Surely you would still be hanging around with the same people 12 years later.

He would have to contact Naoto in the future as soon as he could. After all, if there was something big that was going to happen then he would want to find out as soon as he could. And so, as soon as the meeting was finished, he made his way to the Tachibana household to find young Naoto.

"So, how did it go? Were you able to change anything?" That was the first thing Naoto asked once Takemichi had woken up. It was the same routine each time. Naoto would ask if he had changed anything, knowing that it wasn't enough since Hinata was still dead. But maybe if something had changed, they were a little bit closer to finding out what was causing this chain of reactions.

Takemichi shook his head and then dived headfirst into his question. He had asked if you were ever mentioned in one way or another. Maybe if you were still alive, something must have happened between you and Mikey which he could prevent from occurring. Just thinking back on how in love you both were with each other, he was beginning to doubt that it was a simple break up.

It had taken the two males a full hour until your name had popped up in their searches. It really didn't help that Takemichi only knew your first name and that you would hang out with Toman. The news article had filled the computer screen, a photo of you smiling in the top corner of the page. It gave off a vibe that didn't match the contents of the article.

You had been stabbed 15 times in the chest and stomach during a gang brawl between Toman and a gang Takemichi hadn't heard of yet. You were rushed to the hospital but had died before the doctors could reach you. It stated that it was a boy named Manjiro Sano that had brought you in.

It all started to make sense now. You had been caught up in the brawl and had sustained injuries that had ended your life. So Mikey had lost himself when you had died in his arms as he tried his best to save you.

Takemichi checked the date on which you had died. 2 days from today. Why wasn't this brawl mentioned at the Toman meeting?! Did Mikey keep it a secret or was it a spontaneous confrontation? Takemichi could only guess it was the second option. Especially since the brawl would take place at Toman's meeting spot at the shrine.

"I need to save Y/N from dying. That is what we were missing! If she survives, Mikey won't lose another piece of himself." And with that, the handshake that activated the time leaping had taken place.

Takemichi had explained his plan to Chifuyu. Explained how there would be a brawl the next day at the shrine and how that is possibly the trigger for the bad futures. After all, Mikey might stay sane with you by his side. Chifuyu couldn't believe what he was hearing. A gang would have the balls to enter the meeting place of Toman just to start a fight? They must either hold a huge grudge against them or were just plain insane. No gang was to ever enter another gang's meeting spot as it was seen as sacred.

The blond had vowed that he would do anything he could to protect you from harm and ultimately save Mikey from his dark future. Even if he had to glue himself to your side, he would make sure nothing happened to you. He would make up for the time he had failed to save Baji.

You and Mikey continued with your routine. Enter the tree clearing and spend some quality time together. You both exchanged kisses, splitting the dorayaki you would keep on you for your boyfriend, and joking around. Everything a couple in love should do.

The day of the brawl had arrived and so had the rival gang. It was in the middle of Mikey addressing his gang that the opponent's had arrived. The shock was quickly erased as the fighting began. Mikey had made sure you stayed close behind him so he could keep you safe, even though you could fight. Maybe not as well as most of the Toman members but you were capable of keeping yourself safe.

Takemichi scanned the entire shrine area in search of you. Relief had briefly enveloped the middle schooler. After all, if Mikey was with you, nobody could touch you. Or that's what everyone had thought. You had been separated from Mikey as soon as the gang members discovered you were cared for deeply by him. They had thought that if they got you, they could win the fight.

It was if the world was entering slow motion. Takemichi tried to push his way to where you were being dragged, the determination to save everyone being his main driving force. Mikey had yet to notice you were no longer behind him, too focused on taking out the leader and winning the brawl so he could take you home where you would be safe. However, that plan was quickly becoming less likely.

"Shit! Move out of my way!" Takemichi had panic pumping throughout his veins. If he couldn't get to you in time, there was no second chance. It was times like this that made him realise just how human he was. He was one boy, not a God. He could only do so much. But he was sure as hell gonna try and save you.

"Y/N!" Takemichi's voice carried across the entirety of the battlefield. So much so that everyone had frozen, especially Mikey. He turned his gaze to behind him where he thought you were only to find you were missing. Frantic, his dark eyes scanned the area until they rested on you being held against your will. The boy who held you had his arm across your neck, squeezing so you couldn't call out to your boyfriend. However, it was the knife that he pointed to your chest that had Mikey scared.

Takemichi was the only person who didn't freeze, pushing his way past the bodies that stood like statues. He could make it! He could save everyone with this one action! He was convinced that this was why Mikey had given into his dark impulses and why no-one could get their happily ever afters.

He was too late. The knife had pierced through your chest, narrowly missing any vital organs. This had seemed to spur the younger blond to increase his speed, trying to keep in mind that you could survive if he kept the stabs to a minimum. After all, the news article had explained how you had been stabbed 15 times. One was fixable. One he could deal with.

Mikey couldn't seem to move. His love had been stabbed. For no other reason than they were there and sticking by him. This wasn't fair. You had nothing to do with what the problem was and you shouldn't be paying the price for it either.

It felt like an eternity for Takemichi to reach where you were. His legs were screaming at him to stop and his heart was beating a million miles a minute. In the time it took him to get to you, you had sustained another two stabs in your stomach and chest. The person doing it was nothing short of a monster. He didn't care that you were innocent or that you were a girl. He just continued his mission.

The sound of skin to skin contact echoed, a sickening crack following along. Takemichi had landed the hardest punch he could muster against the side profile of the monster. The crack was the jaw breaking underneath the force. You were released as the perpetrator stumbled backwards, falling as he lost consciousness. Takemichi had made it but he wasn't confident that it was in time. He couldn't help but watch as you smiled and fell sideways. Fueled simply by the adrenaline, he had carefully picked you up in his arms before starting his journey to the hospital.

Draken had been the one to snap Mikey out of his daze, telling him to get his bike. There was no way that Takemichi would get there in time if he was simply thinking of running. And so that's what Mikey did. He fired up his precious bike, ordering the young blond to climb onto the back before speeding his way to the closest medical facility.

Due to all of this, you had survived. Takemichi had succeeded in saving you and thus saving Mikey. There was a possibility that the future would be good this time.

Once he had heard you were alive and doing well, Mikey had finally let himself react. Tears fell one after the other down his cheeks and relief had lifted his heart. He wouldn't lose you. You were alive because of Takemitchy. That is something Mikey couldn't thank the younger blond enough for. He had saved your life when Mikey could do nothing but watch.

Everyone expressed their gratitude for Takemichi. After all, they couldn't imagine what Mikey would turn out like if he had lost you during that fight. Takemichi had an idea but wasn't about to spill what the future he knew was like. Speaking of which, he did wonder how this had affected his future. Would everyone finally have their happy endings? He sure did hope so.

As soon as Naoto had shook his hand, Takemichi had found himself sitting at a table with a can of beer in his hand. Confused on what was going on, he glanced around at his surroundings. He was currently in a home that looked nothing like his apartment. Photos of a couple he vaguely recognised littered the walls, there was the scent of takeout wafting in the air, and the noise was loud yet joyful.

A few days later, Takemichi decided to head back to where he belonged. 12 years in the future. You had been discharged from the hospital and probably on a date with Mikey as he approached the Tachibana residence. Thinking about it, Mikey had seemed to brighten up more ever since you had been allowed out of the hospital. Takemichi laughed as he recalled Mikey buried under a large bouquet of your favourite flowers and a giant plushie of your favourite animal on that day. You had simply laughed before peppering the Toman leader's face in kisses. You had also planted a peck on the younger boy's cheek as a sign of how grateful you were to him. After all, if Takemichi hadn't done any of that, you wouldn't be able to spend anymore time with Mikey. You owed him your life.

That's when Takemichi realised he had done it. Hinata was chatting happily with Yuzuha and Hakkai about their experiences in Europe; Mitsuya, Smiley and Angry were laughing about some inside joke no-one knew about; Pah-chin and Peh-yan were discussing business relating to the real estate agency; Kazutora and Inui were drinking in the corner, simply observing the festivities; and Draken was chatting away happily to Mikey, his arm around Emma's waist as she tried to soothe their baby. Takemichi had saved them all. They were all OK. Most of all, Hinata was alive.

"Anyone needing any refills?" your voice trailed in from where you stood in the doorway connecting the living room and kitchen. You looked almost the same except for a few features. Takemichi knew at that moment that this was the perfect future for everyone, especially when Hinata had come over and kissed his cheek. The discussion around the room had suddenly become one as everyone spoke about the upcoming weddings between you and Mikey as well as the one between Takemichi and Hinata. For the first time in a long time, Takemichi could let go of the weight he had carried around and enjoy his life with his friends and his fiancé.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey sano #mikey x reader #angst with a happy ending #anime drabble #tokyo revengers scenarios #manjiro sano #requested #takemitchy #takemichi hanagaki

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mayoanddelight · 3 years

Text

A Garden of Roses.

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: A bundle of roses was all it took to change Spencer's life for the better.

TW: A thorough mixture of fluff and angst, mentions of death, prison, previous heartbreak and self-deprecation.

A big thanks to @vanessagib 💜 legit, helped me write my first story even tho I tried to cop out many times. Go show her some love!!

The Rose is no doubt a symbol of some extremely powerful emotions. An embodiment of our strongest feelings and desires—from love to admiration. The Red Rose is a symbol of deep love and romantic feelings. Yet standing amidst this beauty, Spencer has never felt more alone.

If to say Spencer Reid had been unlucky in love would be an understatement. As a boy, he’d read enchanting stories with a passionate romance. Craving to have what they had, a love with no bounds and for someone to love him for himself—The weird, quirky boy with a penchant for facts. But he learned that a love like that only exists in fairy tales — Sadly, learning that the hard way.

His first love, the one he considered being his future, his one and only, was killed in front of him. And his second chance to love broke up with him because of Cat’s relentless meddling.

The Irony was not lost to him, of being surrounded by a garden of roses but having no one to share it with. For being at the symbolic grounds of love yet having no one to love.

Maybe he wasn’t meant for love. Maybe he was just too darn unlovable. Everyone left him, no matter how hard he tried. All starting from his dad, who left with just a letter as a goodbye. Maybe he just wasn’t worthy of love.

A silvery voice cut his persistent, self-deprecating thoughts off. Instinctively jumping at the sound, he silently cursed his time in prison for making him so jumpy.

The moment he caught sight of the person, the first thing he noticed was their smile—a smile that seemed so warm and welcoming. A smile that he was so sure would’ve brightened everyone’s day. A smile he was getting so envious about, how easy must it be for them to crack a smile with no memory haunting them. Realising that they were looking at him questioningly, he snapped out of his daydream once again.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t they look beautiful this time of year?” They repeated, gently caressing the delicate red petal of the flower. The petal grew darker as their fingers kept on spiralling on the exquisite piece of art. They alternated their gaze between their task at hand and Spencer himself.

“Won’t you join me?” They patted to the green patch of land, inviting him to sit with them. He wasn’t sure why they were inviting a complete stranger to sit.

“Did you know, a teaspoon of productive soil contains between 100 million and 1 billion bacteria. That is as much mass as two cows per acre!” He usually would’ve turned beet red during moments like these, awaiting a roll of eyes, but instead, he was graced with an amused smile.

“Well, I’d rather have a complete cow up my butt than not enjoy life in its moment”

After a couple moments of contemplating, Spencer decided to sit down on the large patch of bacteria, just an arm’s length, away from the mysterious stranger. He didn’t know why, but he knew he had to give this a chance—just wanting an out from his dark, delirious thoughts.

“So, what are you here for, Big guy?” Big Guy? He wasn’t ever called that before, a pipe cleaner with eyes, yes, but never ‘Big Guy’.

“Spencer.”

“What?”

“My name is Dr Spencer Reid” He paused, eyes widening as he realized his mistake.

“But you don’t have to call me Doctor”

“Well Doctor, what’s on your mind?” By now, the rose, which had adapted a darker colour of red, was gracefully placed on the grass with over a billion bacteria to keep the dying flower company.

Usually Spencer would act as if he were alright—though his pessimistic mind would clearly send a plea of help—however, right now he had too much on his mind. So much has happened to him and in such a short period that he didn’t have time to wrap his head around it.

So there he went, confessing the highs and lows of his life. His time in BAU, the people he lost, His declared family, his drug problem, his unfortunate love life and his time in prison. And the beauty before him just silently listened, not once interrupting his venting spree.

Now sitting in the midnight sky—with nothing but the slight glisten of the moonlight giving them an outlook of what life can truly be—everything was now out in the open. Silence surrounded them until the dying delicate flower was back in their hand. Twirling the stem, they began.

“Is anything truly dead?” They voiced out. Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it, realizing it was just a hypothetical one.

“This flower is dying, wilting, struggling for its last breath. Yet in its loneliness, awaiting the clock to stop, it doesn’t realize that it has a surviving chance—A chance to start anew.” Now it was Spencer’s turn to stay silent and listen. Leaning forward a bit, they used their hands to dig a hole next to the flowers.

“It just needs a gentle push towards the right direction, to figure out how to heal.” They buried the rose with its fellow flowers—its family.

“There! Now, with the help of its family, it will be reborn into a beautiful Rose. With more thorns, but that only magnifies its beauty. Don’t you think? Just by embracing of what it will be and of what it is makes it more magnificent,” they concluded, dusting their hands off.

“Doc? You just need to love yourself. You are still standing after all what the world shot at you! Embrace the beauty that you have become. Let yourself heal—with your family—with just a little love, you can do anything!” Now shifting closer to him, they gave him a one sided hug. He tensed a bit but slowly relaxed into it, wrapping his arms around their warm body. For once in his long life, he felt loved.

“I don’t want this to end,” He mumbled in their neck, the vibrations eliciting a giggle out of them. He knew they were about to leave, leave the premises of the garden, to leave him. They hugged him tighter to silently tell him that everything was going to be alright.

They reluctantly parted from each other. Lingering looks were shared but left unspoken.

“Ok, Mister Factbot–”

“Doctor Factbot”

“Oh obviously, my mistake”

“Obviously” They shared a grin.

“Do you know what the number of roses represents?” Spencer went to nod, but they had turned away from him, leaning towards something — trying to reach something.

“One Rose expresses love at first sight or a form of thank you” He paused, glancing at the person who was huffing a bit. Maybe they were doing some strenuous work?

“Do you need any help?” The question made them look at him with a surprised look, as if no one really offered them a helping hand.

“I’m good! But I’d really like to hear the whole thing” Giving one of those breathtaking smiles, then continuing to do the work they were doing.

“Two Roses represent a deep love while Three Roses which are often reserved for anniversaries, basically says I love you–which is actually quite interesting! Did you know-”

“What about nine roses?” Unintentionally cutting him off, Going to apologise for their rudeness, but Spencer waved them off. Mainly because their hands behind their back caught his attention—They were hiding something behind it. He wanted to ask what was behind it, but something about the look on their face made him think otherwise.

“Nine Roses represent an eternal love—a love to exist for as long as you live” A love that he craved for oh so long. They revealed a bouquet wrapped in a newspaper.

With the bouquet in his hand—Filled with nine flowers—he counted. He looked at the person before him with an unreadable expression.

“Good luck Doc, In finding your eternal love!”

To say that this was the best spontaneous, handmade gift he had ever gotten was an understatement. Lost in the thoughts of the sentimentality of the gift, he didn’t realize that person had bid him farewell and left.

The moment he realized they had left without giving him any sort of clue to search for them, broke him. He felt as if life gave him a chance for love and he had been so stupid not to take the leap.

That was until he found a number written on the newspaper—clearly scribbled with a red marker with their name on it. He read it out loud, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. After a really long time, a smile broke out on his face. A real one.

Maybe in the end, Spencer was worthy of pure and happy love. Maybe, just now, he found his ninth rose.

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amarguerite · 2 years

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I am just now working my way through your pride and prejudice soulmark AU, and I've just taken the turn down the alternate ending before going back to the main fic-- Was wondering, if it's a topic that would be fun to talk about, though you obviously may have mentioned it somewhere and I've not seen it yet, being new, if you ever considered solving the triangle with Darcy as an ot3? Since Colonel Fitzwilliam's bisexuality is well established, the thought very much occurred to me...

Haha that is actually the question I have gotten the most over the years! The answer is the same as ever really: yes, I’ve thought of it, and yes, it could work in abstract, but there are a number of factors that would keep me from figuring out exactly how it would work and therefore writing it:

1) I’m not sure it would be a true OT3 since Darcy isn’t really into guys. You could always change that and say he’s just a late bloomer or has a sudden discovery about himself at 30 but that would require some kind of complicated character work that I don’t have the energy for as we go into year three of a pandemic haha

2) without Colonel Fitzwilliam dying, Elizabeth has no motivation to look elsewhere or think that she would have gotten a wrong definition of what a soulmate is. She married her soulmate, end of story. What would be the reason she would consider Darcy in addition? Given the other two people involved I think any proposed polyamory would have to come from her, but I can’t think why she’d want it or decide to act on it.

3) Colonel Fitzwilliam has some internal biphobia he’s working through and is very inclined towards monogamy. Even if he could admit to being attracted to two people at once, there’s a whole host of personal fears and worries that would keep him from acting on them, not the least that he’d be terrified of hurting his wife. He’d do it if Elizabeth asked him to, but it would take him a while to think of it as anything but a sacrifice to his wife that comes at some personal cost, and that, in turn, would probably keep Elizabeth from ever asking even if she was inclined towards it.

However if you to anyone has an answer or a solution to any or all of these problems, you are more than welcome to write it! (@kittyknowsthings is planning one, I think.)

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Damocles

Characters: Zhongli, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,211

Warnings: Hanahaki disease – depictions of a fictional illness with symptoms mimicking tuberculosis, mentions of coughing up blood, talking a lot about death

Premise: In which the reader thinks Zhongli doesn’t reciprocate their feelings, and fears the consequences.

Author’s Note: Ngl, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about this trope before, except maybe in passing. So if it’s a little weird that’s why.

I ended up taking the story in a bit of a macabre direction. Hopefully not too melodramatic, but I kinda like how it turned out.

Zhongli

“Thank you for telling me, but I’m afraid I cannot return your feelings. I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”

In truth you couldn’t decide whether or not you had expected your feelings to be returned. You and Zhongli had been friends for years now, and you had grown closer to him than you had to most of your previous friends and acquaintances. Indeed, you had grown closer to him than you had to many of the people you’d been in previous relationships in. You called upon him in some form almost every day, whether it be to discuss something of importance or simply bask in his presence. When there was something new you found about, whether it be a story in a book or a particularly funky looking shell, you almost immediately sought out Zhongli to share your find with.

For Zhongli’s part, he also liked to share experiences with you. At the very least you couldn’t say that your friendship was one sided. He often would be the one to walk up to you on the street, a new brand of tea written down on a piece of paper in his pocket, or a location where one could find particularly beautiful glaze lilies on his lips. He never seemed to mind when you peppered him with endless questions, or talked his ear off about your own day; something which you often asked if he found annoying. No, you were very sure that Zhongli wasn’t simply spending time with you out of pity.

In truth it was your friends who guessed the trajectory of your personal feelings before you did. Though you often found their poking and prodding intensely irritating, they had the common sense to keep the questions to a minimum – perhaps in hope their silence might guarantee that your affections would reveal themselves naturally one day. Now though you had to admit they had been right. You had fallen for Zhongli how long ago? It seemed so difficult to say when, so gradually had your feelings changed from viewing him as a confidante to viewing him as something more. Once you had finally come to terms with it you’d put off revealing your feelings as long as possible.

It wasn’t just the chance of rejection, something that would already cause emotions to run high. You had seen what sort of disease could ravage those who were unlucky in love. One of your own friends had suffered from such a disease, a fellow member of the Liyue Qixing had died from such a thing only a few months ago.

It was a terrible disease, everyone at least could agree about that. The origins of such an unfathomable sickness was much less understood. Most saw it as a curse from the gods, a punishment to the humans who would love a fellow mortal more than those who ruled above them, who gave their protection, their mercy, and their gifts to the people below. Others argued that it was simply a result of stress, for what heart could take the shock of a truly deep rejection. A rare parasite, a curse from malevolent demons, all these theories made little difference when it came to the actual disease. You were fairly sure anyways that people dying of it couldn’t care less why it happened, only that it was happening to them.

First came the coughing, easy enough to ignore in a land where the common cold truly lived up to its name. Then you couldn’t run as fast or as far as you had once, at least on the days were you weren’t fighting off crippling fatigue – the night sweats doing little to help you in your desperate need for rest. Then the fever set in, then the blood that stained the porcelain sink. By the time the first few petals would appear emaciation would already begin to claim your muscle mass and the precious body fat that kept you alive. Some people didn’t even get to the point of regurgitating fully formed flowers. Those people were usually considered lucky, for when one must deal with an incurable disease, well, surely it is better to go sooner rather than later.

You wouldn’t lie and say that wasn’t one of the reasons it took you so long to confess. After all, what you don’t know won’t kill you, right? You weren’t actually sure about that, but it sounded right in your mind, regardless of its actual veracity. However, as with most people in love, you’d found a growing recklessness inside you, paired with the sudden desperation for a happiness which you would certainly never obtain at this rate. So you’d made up your mind to tell him, deciding that perhaps the certainty would be better than the ever growing cloud of anxiety that surrounded your thoughts.

Now you’d been rejected. You had to admit that your first reaction was utter panic, the distinct feeling of having made a terrible sort of mistake. Oh sure, your feelings were undeniably hurt, but that was less important than the virtual death sentence you’d been handed. Why oh why had you decided to do this? The world seemed to swim in front of your for a moment, as simultaneously everything came into sharp focus and faded away into the recesses of your mind. What would you do now? There was nothing to do, you just had to wait for the inevitable, wait for the cold embrace of death to welcome you to its abode. You took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. Tears were forming in your eyes, but you knew that they weren’t from romantic distress. Ironically romance was the last thing in your mind right now.

“I, I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

It was all you could manage to make out. Turning around, head light from fear, you bolted down the streets of Liyue, desperate to be in your home, desperate to ignore the sword of Damocles that now hung dangerously low over your head.

Zhongli watched you go, watched as you stumbled your way through the crowd that always packed the streets of Liyue in the daytime. He was fine, he was perfectly fine. He had seen it through, had done what he knew was right. There was no reason to regret. Surely the small stab of pain he felt was temporary, a pinprick compared to all that the ex-archon had suffered over the years.

Zhongli had suspected that a confession like this might’ve been on the horizon for quite some time now. Not that he was dreading it out of a personal inability to reciprocate. No, in his heart Zhongli already reciprocated your suspected feelings. He loved you, adored you even; within the stony heart that had atrophied over years of war, suffering, and personal duty, grew a love that Zhongli had not felt for a very long time. He cherished every moment with you, knowing that his long life would try to compress the memories that were so precious to them. Seeing you whenever he could, dragged out conversations as long as he possibly could, Zhongli was practically desperate for time with you. He was also intensely aware of how short that time would ultimately be.

How could Zhongli push the curse of loving an immortal being on you? For it truly was a curse, to both parties involved. His side was painful of course, the knowledge that your memory, you lifespan even, would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He would always be wondering whether or not the two of you would be experiencing a “last”. Last visit to the sea, last time to climb up the Huaguang Stone Forest to watch the sunset together. Last, last, last. Always the shadow of death would hang over you, so palpable in Zhongli’s mind that he might almost reach out and grasp the gossamer veil that would eventually steal you away. Yes, it would be a truly painful experience. Not nearly as painful however as your own experience.

Zhongli had long ago come to the conclusion that mortals had no true concept of the passage of time. You were young now, the world was your oyster. Zhongli’s immortal status would be nothing more than a passing thought, an anomaly and nothing more. Then your 40th birthday would pass, then you 50th, then you 60th, 70th, 80th. By the time you reached the end of your life the difference between you and Zhongli would stretch out like a chasm between the two of you, something to never be reconciled, for the old rarely forgave the young for their youth. Not to mention the other scenario, the one that Zhongli would never allow the freedom to truly cloud his thoughts. Your death of old age would be a tragedy, the alternative a catastrophe.

He knew all this, had seen it time and time again. Zhongli was hardly the first immortal being to fall in love with a mortal, would not be the last. Adepti, archons, all walks of immortal life were drawn to humanity, drawn to the freedom that came with mortality. Humans did things because they died; they had no forcible tie to nature, no innate duty other than to themselves. Humans could be wicked or kind or cruel or merciful as they wished. To those who were chained by their destiny, well, there was something very anomalous in such a choice. Perhaps it was no surprise then that an immortal being would inevitable find themselves interacting with those supposedly below them. Perhaps it was no surprise that this often led to love.

All that being true, Zhongli still refused to give into his needless selfishness. He loved you, yes. Knowing that was enough. He wouldn’t push such a burden on you, wouldn’t cause you resentment or pain. It would be better if you thought that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, it would be less painful.

Nor would you have to worry about the curse to which many less lucky fell. Zhongli still loved you, still cherished you deeply. You would never have to worry about that, for archons and adepti do not move on from love the way humans do. Zhongli’s love for you would long outlast your lifespan, one which, the archon prayed, would be very long indeed.

Yes, everything had been handled well enough. Perhaps you would never wish to speak with him again, perhaps you would grow to resent him even, how quickly love can turn into hate. It didn’t matter though. Zhongli had shielded you from long, drawn-out suffering, and that was all that mattered. He should’ve been satisfied, should have felt relief. Instead however he only felt a great sadness pressing down, a sadness combined with the pain that accompanied a love that must never truly be realized.

It had been nine days since you’d been rejected by Zhongli. Crossing off another square on the calendar which you had dug out of your old stationary you sighed. The nine days succeeding the encounter had been utter hell. At first you were convinced that the worst thing that could happen was the symptoms of the wretched illness showing up quickly, so convinced you were that the next day you would wake up with blood on your pillow. Soon however, you’d come to a completely different conclusion. There was nothing worse than waiting.

Every day was spent in the agony of anticipation, every day waiting for the coughing to begin, for the night sweats to begin ravaging your sleep, for the breathe to be stolen from your lungs. Yet every day you woke up with none of these things, though your fatigue was real enough.

You should have been relieved, should have been glad for the opportunity to live even a few more days. Yet instead of relief you only felt deep, unrelenting dread. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, so crippled were you by morbid anticipation.

Not that your thoughts were particularly worthwhile either. Perhaps it would be one thing if your ruminations had brought up something profound, something that you could write down in a book for your family or your friends. Though it still would be poor solace, well, at least it’d be something. But your thoughts had all turned to mush, replaced by a paranoia so strong it confined you to your bed most days.

You thought that the death sentence would in some way be freeing, that you might be able to recklessly throw yourself at all the things you had avoided out of fear for so long. Instead you found yourself depressed, waiting for an inevitable so terrifying you found yourself disconnecting from the people around you. What did it matter anyways? You’d be dead soon enough.

This gross neglect of your wellbeing was at least somewhat allayed by the routine that had been drilled into your body from so many years working for the Liyue Qixing. Though you didn’t go to work, something you were sure you were going to hear about eventually, you still dared to venture out to the market. At the very least you would eat your fill in good for before the end was nigh. No need to worry about your health after all. Besides, your definition of good food didn’t necessarily always align with completely unhealthy.

Walking through the familiar streets you stared at the people around you. How odd it was to see people so close you could touch them but so far they might as well have been in Inazuma. Was there anyone else here suffering like you were? Anyone who could understand the thoughts that now flooded your brain? You stared at the ground, trying not to think about it. You’d be confronted with these thoughts the minute you got home anyways. Might as well delay it a bit.

Turning to find the fishmonger you spied a familiar silhouette. Stopping in your tracks you stared unabashedly at Zhongli. The man seemed to be carrying himself much as ever, but the unapproachable atmosphere which he’d blanketed himself in seemed somewhat more prominent. Perhaps it was your imagination, he seemed to be talking to the butcher easily enough. Not that it was any of your business. Zhongli wasn’t any of your business anymore. It would be better if you could forget him, if you could erase this feeling in your heart that refused to go away. Even now Zhongli was beautiful. Even now you wished to run up to him, to hug him, to make pretend everything was right with the world. You couldn’t do that though. Just as you couldn’t forget him, you couldn’t love him. Not in the way you wanted. Turning away you trudged back home, good food utterly forgotten.

It was day eighteen since Zhongli had rejected you, and by now your emotions were running almost unbearably high. You’d sunk into an odd reverie of adrenaline, anxiety, and utter disbelief. What in the world was going on? This was a familiar illness to you, something that had almost claimed the life of your friend and had felled your coworker. You knew everything about symptoms, timeline, etc.; and what you knew was you were supposed to be falling ill ages ago. Eighteen days between the initial rejection and the beginning of symptoms? It was unheard of! You didn’t know what to think. Were the rumors about the gods true, had Zhongli imposed some divine protection on you for the sake of your friendship? Were you somehow a superhuman who had the white blood cell coding to defeat the bacteria that caused this disease? Why hadn’t your descent begun yet?

You lounged on the couch, having moved out of your bedroom on the thirteenth day, three days after the latest possible showing of symptoms. Though you still felt deeply afraid, you found that curiosity was a surprisingly good deterrent when it wanted to be. Your fears hadn’t disappeared, but mixed with them was a disbelief so great that you often found your thoughts drifting to questions of how rather than questions of when.

Of course your initial instinct had been to seek out Zhongli. Pride mixed with fear however had kept you firmly at home. Really what was the point in even seeking out the answer to your miraculous reprieve at this point? It wouldn’t really change the outcome. Instead you might as well enjoy this unexpected extension of your life. Besides, you didn’t want to tempt the fates a second time.

Zhongli stood at the window of your first story apartment, a glaze lily in hand. He hadn’t meant to do this, but the urge refused to leave him.

He’d noticed you a few times at the market, face drawn, eyes empty. Zhongli wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but certainly this wasn’t it. He knew you weren’t suffering from illness, your pace was strong, if slightly erratic, your general aura not that of the sick that Zhongli was all too familiar with. Why then did you look so terrible? The doubts that had plagued Zhongli began to rise again, jeering at the mistake he had made. He was supposed to protect you, right? Why then did you look as if you had experienced a total health collapse?

At first Zhongli tried to ignore it. You had not come to him for help, it was not his place to try and insert himself back in your life once more. The more he thought of you however, the more he found himself uneasy. He had to have some form of communication, some way to enquire about your health. At least one last time. If you explicitly rejected all forms of contact, well then Zhongli would leave. He would never defy your wishes in such a way. Until then however, he felt like he needed to ask.

The idea of walking up to your apartment and asking you was utterly off the table. Who knew how that might end? No, he wanted a subtler way. Glaze lilies had always been a favorite of yours, sneaking out into the evening to see them bloom even more so. He would simply leave one on your windowsill. If you took it, then he would enquire about your health. If you left it, well Zhongli would have his answer.

His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the windowsill, causing the gold ribbon tied around the lily to tremble slightly. At first Zhongli wanted only to give you the flower. He realized soon however that you might be confused, wondering if someone had not simply dropped a flower on your windowsill, or had the wind blown it there? The ribbon would hopefully clear things up. Even if it looked a little silly.

Slowly placing the flower down onto the open window Zhongli sighed. Turning around he did not dare spare a glance backwards. He would have his answer soon enough after all. Until then, well, there was no point in looking back.

You exited from the kitchen, having finally felt the energy to make yourself that good food you’d been promising yourself. Going to look at the sunset you let out a soft gasp.

On your windowsill was a single glaze lily, wrapped in gold.

#no one dies but I left the ending a bit ambiguous on purpose #I wrote more about it in the ask #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin impact #requested #oneshot #my writing

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