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#i'm the former btw. he was raised there it's what he knows. that's what he is
bowieandqueen11 · 9 months
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Not Just A Trinket / Izzy Hands Imagine
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Request: hi! ur writing is EVERYTHING btw. ur an amazing writer. you mentioned you wanted to write for izzy hands again and i have a request– feel free to ignore if it's not what ur looking for :) maybe izzy hands x reader where the reader has a small gift for him (a little trinket, a beaded crystal bracelet– something they made for him) but they're WAY too anxious to give it to him because they're scared he won't like it so they end up just carrying it around, trying to build up the courage to give it to him pfft
AHHH thank you so much my lovely, that's so sweet of you, and so is this idea!!! :3 Also I know I'm a little early in the timeline mentioning Davy Jones but I like to think of Izzy as a trendsetter ;)
Warning: mentions of fighting/ injury and strong language, some sexual innuendo!
(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @nadsdraws.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Izzy Hands was beginning to detest feeling like this.
He would rather charge sword first at a horde of raging Englishmen: would prefer to scrabble and scrape and scratch through the eye sockets of thousands of the Spanish with naught but his bloodied fingernails. Hell, even grovelling under the sole of the snivelling wreck that now possessed his former boss like a twisted nightmare, a horrid regret, would be preferable. If his hand wasn't too firmly attached to tangled rope of one of the shrouds in a death grip, if his glove wasn't close to bursting at the seams with how tightly he was gripping, he had half a mind to draw his dagger out of its scabbard and gouge his heart out right there and then.
He looked furious. So much so, that Roach was quick to side step him as he hopped down the steps with fresh sewing materials in his hand, giving a final look back at the intent man who only bared his teeth at the cook in response. Valuing his life, or at least the ability to keep all his fingers, if the sight of the keen blade being twisted between Izzy's free fingers told him anything, Roach is quick to recoil back and raise a concerned eyebrow in Wee John's direction. He in turn just rolls his eyes and lowers his head back to his sewing, but the rest of Stede's crew are astute enough, from where they're lingering around the deck, to notice the thick tension brewing like cold shivers of electricity in the air. Even Jim and Oluwande were giving each other side eyes, pausing their hammering at the helm to dart their eyes to their side and trace the path of Izzy's line of sight.
It never wavered. Every time they looked, it never changed. He had spent the last two hours gaping sourly towards the edge of the quarter deck. Gawking solely at you, without a single movement, without a single flicker outside the bubble where you hunched.
You thought he was angry at you for arranging a special outing for Ed and Stede at Datura Grotto, finally indulging in finding a way for them to spend some time alone after your Captain had begged and hounded you for days; he had become so accustomed to bursting through doors trying to find you and ask for your help, that the poor daunted man nearly burst into tears when he smashed your bedroom door into your nose and nearly broke it. The rest of the crew believed he was plotting something: trying to pick out the quieter members of their friends first, as payback for being stuck on this so called 'straight out of Davy Jones' arsehole' of a ship for so long.
Izzy, though. Izzy knew he was smitten. And he fucking hated it. He hated feeling so vulnerable.
Out of all the crew members still pretending to mill about, only Lucius was daring enough to purse his lips and look brazenly back at Blackbeard's first mate. Only Lucius, in fact, was feeling equally brave, and equally vexatious that fine afternoon to muster up the courage to slide up beside him. 'Someone in a bad mood today, are we?'. He taps the ships railing with the point of his nail, the broom he had been pretending to sweep splintered pieces off the floor a moment ago soon forgotten about as he leans it against the side of the ship. He replaces the loss by dropping his hand to his hip, cocking his head and smiling at an increasingly agitated looking Izzy. 'Would it have anything to do with that fine young sea farer over there by any chance? How romantic, Dizzy Izzy. Oh, I do love a good fix-me-up-'
Oh, he was enjoying this.
Izzy's quick to snap, not even bothering to look in Lucius' direction. 'Fuck off, before I do you a favour and cut that little seducing tongue out of your mouth for you.' Lucius watches Izzy's fingers tighten into leather clad black balls on the rope ladder, and doesn't need a second warning to trot off back towards his friends again. With a final wide eyed look of shock, he turns back to Black Pete and shrugs, holding his hands up as if to say that he tried his best.
All the while, you just keep your gaze steady out and onto the brewing horizon of the sea, watching as foam shook out like reaching hands around your ankles as they across cut through the wave crests, only the salty sting of thrumming silence keeping you company underneath his watchful gaze. The beaded necklace you had spent the last week or so threading together, carefully crafted by trembling fingers and a bit tongue during long evenings spent in your hammock, was beginning to feel like an anchor weight in your pocket. You tried to distract yourself with mundane, idle chit chat with a very thankful Lucius, who had swung over to your side after Pete convinced him to go scouting out for some more gossip. Swinging his legs between the latches of the port quarter, he merrily took the hammer you were idly holding from your hand and began to 'fix up the ship', his wrist barely moving as he turned to you with a scheming smile.
'So, do you know what's going on then? Why Izzy's acting like this? I swear, that man. If he doesn't bend over right now and try to get that stick out of his arse, he's going to be a miserable sad sack of repressed irritation forever. He's like a jack in the box. I swear to god, I'm just waiting for him to burst.' The tone of his voice sounds almost worried, but Lucius is smiling and waggling his eyebrows the whole while. 'That would be kind of funny, actually. I've always imagined him as a stamper. Or maybe a screamer-'
You have no idea what to say, not understanding Lucius' oh so unsubtle hints, so you just run your fingers over the bulge in your pocket once more and chime in to his rant from time to time with a disinterested 'hmm' or distracted 'oh, yeah. Definitely.' It really didn't help that you were beginning to blush the same champagne hue as the bubbles between your toes with how gravely Izzy was staring at the side of your face. It was growing increasingly harder not to give into the temptation: to not just swing your head around and meet his hard-set eyes head on.
Once he realises you're dead set on staying right there, away from him, hiding in the corner all day, he sighs and let's go of the sails, marching off to do another impromptu inspection of the boarded vessel. It's an easy distraction: yelling orders at Wee John, spitting insults at Roach as he scurries out of Izzy's way, stealing the Swede's cup out of his hand and spraying beads of coffee around Buttons' feet. All of it was a Grade A fantastic distraction, and Izzy was hell bent on forgetting just how quickly time had gone by that day: Ed and the moronic, sappy, massive twat of an arse Stede would be back from their foliage constitutional any minute now, and Izzy was acutely aware that he was running out of both minutes, and chances to ask you to take a walk with him on the island himself. He had spent far too much of the morning wasting away, leaning his back on Stede's antique armoire and watching you with crossed arms: like a weathered statue, the growing umbra he cast somehow seeming to reach its tendrils out and blanch the fringes of the doorway. Even Fang and Ivan had been too terrified to come near him, and so he had been left alone. A silent sentinel, trying to figure out why the fuck his heart was cracking against the cage of his ribs and tearing their ligaments to shreds.
You hadn't exactly made things any easier for the man: feeling so intimated, you had spent the whole morning begging your friends to whisk you away from him at the first sign of danger. Whether that meant ducking behind Frenchie's lute like a crab, or hiding like a bulky turtle under the large bit of crimson cloth Oluwande was fiddling with the tassels of, you had used any form of escape to save you from the embarrassment of having to be near him. To let him see how flustered you became just at the overwhelmingly intense pressure you felt in the air any time he swaggered over to your side: to hide the fact that your eyes would widen in abject horror, your breath hitching any time the back of his gloved hand would 'accidentally' brush against your wrist as he went on his merry way, pretending it was all by accident. That it was all just a little game to him.
Little did you know, that he was feeling exactly the same way. The one time he had dared to come over to you that day had been an unmitigated disaster. He thought he was being... well, as kind as he possibly could be by slapping you on the shoulder and saying 'how good of a job you're doing.' He was nodding his head between every word, that jilted, simpering smile on his face as he supplemented his sentiment with an incredibly heartfelt 'at least Y/n knows how to do a fucking thing on this ship, not like you lot of useless fucking fuckers they have to work with. The rest of you are embarrassing, really.' He went to walk away, the side of his wrist glancing against the back of your hand as he finished with a breathless 'you lot could learn a thing or two from Y/n.'
He had staggered away from you as if mortally wounded, tongue bitten between his teeth as he tried as nonchalantly as possible to make his way back to the stern of the ship. While you were busy trying to bury your head down into your chest and avoid the smirking faces of Lucius and Pete, you happened to notice from the side of your eye that with each step Izzy was ringing out his hand. To your surprise, he used his teeth to rip his glove off, tucking it under his armpit as he wrangled with his fingers; he couldn't stop every cell burning as if it had just been reeled under the bottom of the ship. Couldn't understand why his fingertips wouldn't stop shaking as he flexed them.
Lucius was right. He was about to erupt, and he wondered if he'd ever be alright again.
It took until the sun nearly bowing over the jaded unicorn surmounting the anterior of the Revenge for you to find the courage to finally slink away from your convenient hiding spot to go over to Izzy. Well, that and the feel of Lucius literally dragging you up by the wrist and giving you a well meaning shove in the back towards the helm.
'Oh, fuck me', Izzy hisses as he watches you approach, turning his back to you to hide how flustered he was becoming with each tugging step at his heart you take towards him. He nearly jumps high enough to fall face first off the side of the boat when he feels your hand tentatively tap his shoulder, but he manages to inhale sharply and compose himself as best as he can before he flicks his eyes to look at you.
'I-uh-', you swallow thickly, shakily drawing your hand away from him and tucking it behind your back. 'I-, uh. I, I mean, I-'. The two of you, a far change of pace from usual, can barely keep your eyes on each other.
You feel like throwing your shoe at Lucius when you register the all too familiar sing song-y chime of his voice murmuring 'say something!' from behind your back. 'Or I swear to god, I'll kiss the man for you!'
'Well, I-', you start again, shooting the most vicious glare you could strangle out of you back at your friend. With a final sigh, you continue: 'I saw your necklace, and I don't mean to pry- but since you're always wearing black, which of course is incredibly cool, I just- well, I thought it needed a burst of colour.' Without a second thought, you scramble to pull your makeshift necklace out of your trousers, and shove the glistening glass emeralds and burnished pearls into his fist.
'It's just a silly thing, really. I saw Stede fixing Ed's red fabric and I just thought... well, you don't have to wear it. It's just a trinket, it's stupid. Really, you don't have to wear it. I'm sorry-'. After a pause, the burning sensation is enough to make you turn on your heel and bashfully start to make a break for the Rec Centre, just to get as far away from him as possible.
'It's not just a trinket.' The softness of his tone, despite how harshly he sounds out the letters makes you swivel back in surprise. He takes the opportunity to take a step forward and grab onto your wrist. He tugs you closer, until you're standing dangerously close to him: if he were to inhale deeply now, to puff his chest out just a tenth of an inch, your belly buttons would be tightly pressed upon each other. You can already feel his buttons strain against your shirt as he whistles out through bunched teeth, the breath sharp and warm against the side of your jaw. 'Don't say that. Never say that. It came from you, so it's not-... just, don't say that.'
He blinks, slowly releasing his viper grip.
'I like it. I really do. Thank you.' He motions awkwardly with a flick of his fingers to the side of his neck. 'Would you mind? With the gloves, I'm... not very good with clasps. Haven't, haven't used one in a long time.'
You can't stop your head from nodding, feeling like a wound up spring toy as you unfurled his fingers again and took the gift back. With a final swallow, you try not to turn cerise as you gently roll down the collar of his shirt. It folds easily down over his vest, until your bare fingers are dragging over the naked line of skin on his neck, just teasingly hiding the tense muscles of his upper back.
'You really didn't have to do this for me, you know.'
'Yeah... but I wanted to. You're not as much of an arsehole as Stede tries to make out.' You manage out a giggle, before you're back to biting your bottom lip in concentration, brushing a few strands away from the back of his head.
He wants to say more, but his voice chokes in the back of his throat like rifting water, his mouth trembling as your fingers brush over the coiled grey hairs bristling at the nape of his neck. It feels like a red hot poker is being dragged across his skin; he shivers at the feeling, a tight coil rolling across his limbs before settling uncomfortably heavy in the pit of his stomach.
He looks like he's about to weep when you take a step back, reaching up with a final pat to make sure the little metal swallow that adorns the centre of your necklace is lying perfectly against his breast. You may have lingered there a little longer than necessary... long enough for your palm to begin burning against the firm muscle of his pec, and for Lucius to draw out an enunciated wolf whistle, but it was definitely worth it. Even the sound of Frenchie snickering from the barrel he was perched on down on the deck was drowned out by the thrumming toll in your ears: by the sound of Izzy's sharp breath piercing your ear as he wavered uneasily on the spot. He didn't want to move away from you, not yet. He could barely even hear them. For the first time in his life, he didn't even fucking care. All he could focus on, over the bridge of his nose - through the gentle curls of his tired eyelashes, was you.
He was intoxicated - but even worse, he was finally beginning to understand. By god, he wondered. What the fuck had you done to him? Could this really be what Edward feels? Could anyone, really, feel this much?
'I hear swallows are meant to bring good luck', you state with bated breath, fingering the charm you had picked up from a market stall at the Republic of Pirates for a final time. It had reminded you almost immediately of Izzy: a hidden treasure, glistening white-gold, like fresh sunlight flitting across the glitter combs littered across the sea beds. It had been well buried within piles of muck: old straw, rotten bits of moulding fruit, bloodied bones twisted into odd shapes that you could barely recognise, but it had been lying there. Waiting just for you. A needle in the haystack. The final piece of the puzzle.
Izzy's breath draws in sharply as you absentmindedly begin to brush your pointer finger up and up: tracing the edge of his jaw line before rolling over the same bird tattoo lacing his neck, your eyes still drawn to the gap between his shirt where his Adam's apple lay tautly.
'Yes. Very good luck', he states, amazed he even found his voice. Surprisingly, he doesn't even try to pull away. He lets you trace your finger over the beak, gliding across the round belly until they're dancing teasingly over its tail. In fact, without his wonderous, dipped eyes looking away from you, he seems to be tilting his head in time, allowing you easier access to brush against his skin and steal his soul with every movement.
Before he has time to think of the repercussions of what he was about to do, the leather of his gloves flex around your cheeks and Izzy Hands has bowed his back down over you, lips knocking against yours. It's terse, and rather urgent in its forcefulness; it was both a slip of outrageous passion, and a terse reminder of his years out of practice feeling any sort of physical affection, and yet you couldn't help but brush up even closer to the man. He welcomes you eagerly, even though this eternity lasted only a moment: with his thumb, he tilts the jut of your chin up so he can lick his tongue against your bottom lip all the more easily. His knee slides forward until it knocks against your own, lurching you forward and saving him the embarrassment of having to voluntarily admit to his weakness and slide his other hand around the pulse point of your neck, until he was cradling the bone of your shoulder.
He finally draws back, his tongue darting out to lick along the edge of his top lip. 'Yeah, very lucky indeed.' He seems sorrowful to be letting go of you, but the loud whistling and snorting that begins to bounce back and forth between Stede's crew snaps Izzy back to himself. With a final glance back down to your lips, he struts off to pick up Lucius' long abandoned broom and starts chasing him across the ship with it.
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2tyongs · 7 months
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[3:45 AM] stars . . .
bf!doyoung x gn!reader
genre: fluff, established relationship,
warnings: none other than it's not really proofread!
a.n. first post oh em gee kinda nervousss! i don't see a lot of 127 fluff on here anymore so i guess i gotta do it myself 😒/hj. requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! i hope you enjoy <3 happy halloween btw 🙏🏾
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doyoung never knew what love was supposed to feel like until he met you.
you were like a breath of fresh air in his life. taking his normal, mundane tasks like going grocery shopping and transforming them into something more thrilling, or making him experience new things that he would never do on his own. you had made his daily routine into something new, something beautiful.
he will always love learning more about you no matter how long you have been together; your hobbies, your favorite places, and what your favorite shows are. everything about you intrigues him and compels him to familiarize himself more and more with everything you consider to be part of yourself — past and present.
he will always listen to what you have to say, holding onto every word. even the little things that you thought never mattered or were worth remembering yourself, he remembers. he remembers the names that you had wanted to name your pet years ago, the way you don't care for certain holidays like valentine's day (he will always still make the effort to show that he loves you on these days anyway; bringing you flowers and cooking your favorite dishes so you have something to look forward to, even on the days you typically hadn't expected to before.), and the books you said you wanted to read but never got the chance to purchase. he notices when your gaze lingers on an item for too long when you're out shopping together, making a note to himself to come back and buy it for you for a special occasion coming up.
one night while the two of you were lying on the couch, you mentioned that you had always loved going stargazing when you were younger after seeing the two main characters of the movie you're watching sitting under the stars, sharing their dreams.
doyoung had made a mental note of this former interest of yours, which led the two of you to where you are right now: sitting on a soft blanket and staring at the warm night sky. you were seated in front of him, resting your back on his chest with your head on his shoulder, enthusiastically guiding his vision to all of the constellations and stars you could remember as you pointed them out the best you could.
“...that's the big dipper, but if you look closer you'll see that it's part of a constellation called the great bear," you point to the left, tracing out the pattern with your finger. "not many people know that the big dipper isn't considered a constellation." you explain softly, never taking your eyes off of the view.
doyoung doesn't mean to get distracted from your explanation, but he can't help it when you look so excited. reliving your childhood with the stars above brings you so much joy that a smile makes its way onto your face as you share your knowledge with him. he admires your beauty as you talk about the things you're passionate about, trying to etch the sight of you into his memory forever. looking at you is something that he will never get tired of. the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes cast shadows onto your face, the beauty marks that adorn your complexion.
you start to talk again until you feel his eyes gazing at you instead of the stars above. you turn to him, momentarily dazed by the amount of fondness that you can see in his eyes as he looks down at you. you smile softly, “what? why are you looking at me like that?”
doyoung smiles back, “no reason. i'm just happy.” he can tell you're not exactly pleased with his answer if the way that you raise your eyebrow at him is anything to go by.
"'just happy?' i need you to elaborate a little more, doyoung." you tease, nudging him, and glance back up at the sky.
he rolls his eyes with a smile still gracing his features, holding you closer, "i just really love being with you, hearing you talk about the things that you love, that's all." you turn to him again. you can hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes and it makes your heart melt. you're too flustered by the love you can almost see and feel exuding from him to say anything back, so you decide to continue looking at the view ahead of you instead, tracing patterns on the back of his hand.
there's a short silence until you finally break it, staring up at the sky, "i love you." you tell him, leaning your head onto his shoulder once again.
he knows that you love him. you show it every single day in the way that you make time for him and the way that you've let him become a part of your life in a way that no one else has, letting him see parts of yourself that no one else could.
"i love you too. so much." he replies, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your waist with his thumbs.
he always thinks to himself that even if he were dealt a different set of cards in his life, the stars would always align to give him the grace of being here with you. and he's more than certain that no matter what those cards looked like, there's no way he could love you any more than he does now.
doyoung knows that no amount of words or physical affection could ever be enough to express the love he feels for you. but for now, you just being there with him, letting him hold you, this will suffice just fine.
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peachjagiya · 4 months
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How Layover taught me self confidence
Or Why Biasing Kim Taehyung is good for your mental wellbeing
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So I'm not even a year into being into BTS. I'm toddler army, I think since April? This video of the Sirius performance of Butter came up on my tiktok randomly and I Just Wanted To Know Their Names and now I'm here.
I didn't immediately bias Tae. I actually attached immediately to Jimin. I also thought Suga was grumpy and there was something going on between Jimin and JK cos I watched the official content and fell for the narrative 😇 (I wouldn't say I'm a former jikooker though. It lasted like a week then I got weird vibes from it 🤷)
I'm really into jazz and swing so Tae wrecked my bias with Le Jazz De V.
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Then it really got serious with Layover. Specifically these pictures:
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See this outfit rewired my brain.
Here's the thing: I'm a big girl and I've been uncomfortable in my skin and clothes for a long time. I'm also gay and that comes with a lot of style related baggage too. Don't dress too masculine, everyone will think you're a man-hating lesbian. You're wearing a dress, you don't SEEM gay.
It made me hate my style. Trying to dress to hide my figure but not look too baggy. Trying to be feminine but not too feminine, trying not to wear anything too masc, trying to be stylish, trying a lot of things that never worked for me. I have no gender dysphoria but I never felt happy in my clothes.
Then I saw a literal idol wearing baggy jeans and tee and looking so stylish with it and a switch flipped. Maybe a slender South Korean man isn't where I'd imagine finding inspiration as a British bisexualish plus size lesbian but I suddenly felt like a style was accessible to me. The jewellery, the effortless slouch... I tried it out and it sounds dramatic but it was like a fashion euphoria. I liked how I looked for maybe the first time ever. My tummy hidden but I still looked good and like I'd made an effort.
His queer coding is so important to me too. It doesn't matter to me what he turns out to be. His promotion of queer artists, films and music, genderless expression and demonstrated support for queer community, will always be important in helping me feel seen and valued regardless of whether his participation is as a queer man or as an ally.
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And he has made me more accepting of my own neurodivergence. I'm a mum to a six year old. I do the school run and cook and pay my mortgage with my boring communications job and I'm really into BTS. It's a bit of an eyebrow raise for a lot of people. I'm not into diagnosing strangers but Tae's relentless ability to be himself, no matter how weird the rest of the world thinks he is, and being a hugely popular idol when the world tells you you can't be a bit of a free-thinker and successful at the same time... That's important!
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So yeah. The other guys have qualities that comfort me too but Taehyung has had a profound impact on things that needed fixing in my brain.
And that's why he's my best guy THE END ask me anything I'll talk about Taehyung for hours.
(I'm sorry I ever thought you were just a grump, Yoongi.)
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Are these dungarees/overalls backwards btw?
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neverchecking · 1 year
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Ok I just read your sage AND I FUCKIN LOVE IT!
Can I have a yandere sage x reader smut
Where's The reader is his childhood friend and fell with him and died with him with everything. But the reader loves link but she a half Dragon. And link finding out why the reader gose into hiding every other month
It mating seasons for her and he takes full advantage of it making her his.
Also can I be 🐲 aron
Yes you can! Welcome aboard 🐲 anon!
Half dragon reader? Now that is a meal. I used to have a super popular dragon Au on my very first blog (that we shall never ever talk about) and I'm more than happy to bring the dragons back.
Especially dragon reader!
And with Sage?
Sage is TotK Link btw!
BARKING-
Smut so 18+, MDNI!
TotK spoilers below!
Smut CW: Breeding Kink, Dragon! Reader, Mating season, Sage. He's just a warning himself at this point. slight choking!
'Tis the Season
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His memory was not as bad as he once portrayed it as.
While yes, it was once bad, it had gotten less...splotchy in the years past. He was recalling things he could not previously with less of a trigger needed.
One memory did need a trigger though. It happened during his last flash back to the time of the Zonai, when he figured out what happened with Zelda. It threw him from one bad black out right into the next. Only...This wasn't that bad. No, it was nice.
The familiar smell of blossoms spread around him, not soft like the Silent Princess but sharper-- like a cherry blossom. It was nostalgic and comforting in ways that no other memory had been. He didn't want to leave this one.
The heavy pounding of wings, leather and solid like a Gleeok's, didn't bring him any fear. No, instead it brought the evocative feeling of home. Something that he was used to being wrapped around him, shielding him from the icy feeling of Zelda's steely gaze.
Looking around, he felt his lips turn into a grin against his wishes at the sight of a figure in the sky. They had wings, wide and translucent, spread against the sky, casting the sun around them in a halo of pure light. A tail fell behind much thinner legs, the flares at the end flickering every now and then as the being hovered. In a fell swoop, the being allowed themselves to fall before catching the wind and soaring just before colliding into the dirt. They approached too quickly for him to turn and run, but instead of drawing his weapons, his muscles stayed frustratingly lax, letting the creature grow closer. Their wings beat cool breezes around him as they landed. He noticed their bare feet, adorned with rings and bracelets drafted in jewels and inky black claws that dug into the mud beneath them. There were matching claws on your fingers, along with more rings and bracelets, which reflected the light of the sun above them.
The wings spread once more, shuddering before collapsing against their back. Horns matching the color of the wings shined as the being shook their head free of their messy hair. Scales glittered along their cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, his hand raising to gently brush against the former. The being leaning into his hand, smoke bellowing out of their nostrils as a happy little hum left their-...your lips. A name flickered in and out of his memory as your hand came up to cup his own.
The memory faded out leaving him with nothing but a bittersweet yearning, a whisper of a name, and a collection of weeds leftover from the Dragon's Tear.
It wasn't enough. He needed to know more about you. He recognized the place in the memory, quickly making his way to the field. It was barren when he got there, no flowers, scorched with ashes. It made something bitter settle in his stomach but he got the desired results.
This time the sky was a blood red, bitter and angry with black spits of ash falling. That wasn't what had his breath catching in his throat. No. It was the wounds that littered your body. Burns, livid and still sizzling, decorated your once pristine skin as your once firm and whole wings laid in pure taters around you. Holes that couldn't have felt good smoked as you laid still. Horridly still. A hand on his arm tried pulling him away from the scene. He turned to see Zelda already disregarding your broken form, convinced that she could still unlock her powers in time. Blind to the fact that they had already lost. You were gone. You had given your life for their own. And She didn't care. He could do Ganon a favor then and there.
You had died protecting them from a raging gang of Lynels. You were dead. And Zelda didn't care. She just wanted him to fulfill his duty and carry on and unfortunately, he had no choice but to follow.
The memory filtered out once more, and he was left with a boiling rage and clenching fists. Angry energy with nowhere to go, poisoning his veins. So he did the only thing he could think of. He screamed. It was something bitter and full of raw passion, enough so that he felt something tear- if not pull in the very least.
In the very far distance, a dragon's roar echoed his own scream.
He took off running.
<><><><>
You were alive. Scarred and traumatized, scared and cautious, but alive. And you knew who he was. You didn't seem to believe it at first, but then your eyes caught the earring hanging from his ear. He had had it since he had awoken in the shrine and seemingly before even that. It had just always been apart of him.
One of your clawed fingers had slowly, so so slowly, reached for it, brushing against the jewelry. You were so warm. It was so nice against what he remembered as your cold and stony skin, so pale as opposed to your tanned skin as it was now.
"You still wear this." You had whispered, voice crackling as if you hadn't used it for Hylian speech patterns. "I had gifted it to you when we first started courting. I am surprised they have lasted as long as they have with your reckless behavior."
Without even thinking about it, his own hand reached to grace against your scales once more. And it felt right. "Of course I do. They reminded me of you," He had whispered back. While he was never certain of where they came from, they did remind him of comfort and safety, all things he could now identify as you. Gorgeous, effervescent you who was now back in his arms, growling lowly in your throat as he clung onto you. "Why do you have to go again?"
"We've been over this, my heart," You grumbled, shaking your head. "Mating season is dangerous. I cannot risk your own preservation for my pleasure."
He groaned, throwing enough of his weight onto you that you staggered just a bit, wings snapping out to support both his weight and your own. "I'm a big boy, I can handle it. Why must you leave me?"
"Link-"
He just had to stall a little longer. It had been weeks of work, to keep himself off of you, but he had done it, leaving you just as pent up as he felt. And now it was just a matter of stalling long enough you let your pretty little brain shut down and let him do all the thinking for once.
Just a little longer.
Your tail twitched behind you, swiping against the wood of your shared home. "I don't have time-"
"Just stay here with me, princess. Let me take away all your worries-" He nipped at that spot right under your ears, right where your scales ended. It made you shiver, muscles running lax for a moment before you stiffened.
"Link, don't-"
<><><>
"-Stop," You panted out, head falling against the pillows as your wings remained splayed out behind you. Smoke bellowed out from between your teeth as he kept you pinned with a hand on your throat, the cradle between his thumb and index finger cutting off your airway as he rammed his own hips against yours.
You were so pretty like this, brainless and drooling, doing anything he asked of you. Honestly, he doesn't know why you ever fought him on this. He would always win when if came to you. He knew he would make you bend, it was just a matter of time.
He couldn't believe you ever thought you could hurt him. Look at you! Drooling over his hand as you clung to the arm holding you down, nothing but mindless babbles leaving your lips; asking, begging for more. Begging for him to breed you and fill you.
He would do just that. Fill you to the brim. Fill you until your primal mind was satisfied. Fill you until there was no question on whether or not you would carry his young. You would be the mother of his child, no question about it. He would father your only children and he would finally get the ending he deserved. What you both had earned through bloodshed and tears, sweat and sacrifice. This was what everything had led to. This was what all the fighting had been for.
And Goddess above was it worth it.
The thought of you, as a mother, was soul satisfying as you cried out beneath him. He would do anything to see you so. You wanted it, he wanted it, what more to the equation was there?
After all, 'tis the season.
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throwaway-yandere · 2 years
Text
"I AM HERE" (Yandere Modern CEO! Alhaitham/Reader)
a/n: btw, the logo's made by Esther anon!!! ❤️ Thank you so much!!!! Ily!!!
Unreliable Synopsis: You got recruited as Alhaitham's assistant... But honestly? You'd rather be a damn idol producer.
Mother of Klee, Alice's note: We (Our cutie pie Lumine and I) just wanted you to know that it wasn't our idea to make you Alhaitham's assistant, ✾... That's all! I'll have Barbara pray for you every Sunday <3
Yandere Idol!1k event masterlist
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--------
You didn't get the job.
Technically you did get to work for the company, but you still didn't get the job. It's a strange predicament, truly. It would be comparable to learning how to prepare fried eggs in a culinary class and then being informed that you must serve medium-rare steak with sauce for the test.
Yes. You didn't become an idol's producer.
But anyone can imagine the kind of stress you're under when you found out you were hired as the CEO's assistant.
-----
"Ohohoho, a lost guest! It's always nice to see a new face around here! Can I get you something to drink? I promise you can trust me!" A man approached you with two bottles of iced coffee.
You raised an eyebrow, clumsily scratching your neck. 
The taller blonde man beside him sighed exasperatedly. "I don't think anyone in their right mind would accept drinks coming from..."
An idol wearing a weird bonnet? Yeah.
"Geez, trainee, what's with that look? I don't spike drinks. Is that sooo hard to believe?"
"You're Kaveh and you're Venti of 5wirl, aren't you?" It's clear to you who they were after that brief exchange.
"Yep yep!!!" He does a tiny little finger-gun gesture. "The one and only– wait a minute, that's Itto's line."
"S-Sorry to bother you, but I'm quite lost right now..." You stuttered. "If you could lead me to CEO Alhaitham's office, that would be fantastic."
"Aaaahh, so YOU'RE (Y/n)! We heard rumors that you're going to work as that idiot Alhaitham's assistant, is that true?"
Your nose scrunched. Sadly, that does seem to be the case based on TeyvatPro's employees' behavior towards you.
Venti gave you a look of pity, "maybe you'd have a good life if he wasn't the CEO and a cum laude Akademiyan graduate. Unfortunately for you, that guy is both."
But you're also an Akademiyan graduate...
"That bastard's an absolute numbers guy for a linguistics major, if I were you, I'd purposefully bomb that interview," Kaveh said.
Venti shrugged. "Do you even have to try? I'd crumble if I'm stuck with him in a room for more than an hour. He probably got that attitude from his seniors."
But based on the magazine you've read, you were a senior when Alhaitham was a freshman...
"Yeah, yeah, we get it. Enough slander, Venti." Kaveh scoffed. "Like, hello? I was Alhaitham's senior you prick!"
You perked up. "Oh? What did you major in?"
Kaveh gazes at you proudly. "Architecture."
You raised a hand and you shared a quick high-five. "Nice! I love to idle around St. Deshret's building back then--"
"Aaaaaaaalright nerds, we're here!!!"
Venti loudly announced, bowing in front of the door.
A closed door, huh? There are unspoken things about doors when it comes to superiors. It's a pseudo-science that when a superior's door is always open, they value employer-employee relationships and are willing to hear out inquiries. Considering how Sir Alhaitham's closed...
Well... You shouldn't make a mountain out of a molehill.
A pink-haired lady opened the door.
"There you are, little one. Come, wait inside."
---
"We didn't expect someone like you to apply here. Your GPA is astoundingly high– what exactly made you want to apply here?"
The money and the location, but mostly the former. You had a similar salary before your old company faced bankruptcy, but the workplace here has some pretty decent coffee and a nice dental plan. Those standards may be low but at least they weren't nonexistent like your newbie self's preservation skills. 
Miss Miko smiled slyly.
"You know what, don't answer." She said. "The boss should emerge in 3... 2... 1..." 
You heard the door open, but you can't see who it was yet since a bookshelf was blocking your view. 
"Well then, I'll be taking my leave~." The ex-idol giggled. "Farewell, little one."
Of course, it was none other than the CEO himself. Alhaitham walked to his desk, ignoring Miss Miko as he sat down, which amplified your nervousness. He's known as a genius businessman for a good reason. With a demeanor imbued with confidence and wit, his face glows in a rather youthful light. 
"I'm certain you've deduced why I called you here."
You're wary of how his cologne smelled like money. He smells like he's trying to prove something to you. 
"Y-Yes, sir, but I don't think I'd be fit to be your assistant–"
"That's right. You're still incompetent." He deadpanned, "I'm only hiring you because you have neat handwriting, and based on Lumine's analysis, you're something of a realist. My criteria are usually stricter than that."
You know little regarding the full business Alhaitham conducts, but if his standards helped him stay as the CEO instead of Madam Alice, it must be a challenging one.
"But...?" You droned.
"But?"
"W-Why me, then?"
Alhaitham scoffed, "there's no use explaining more than half of my reasonings to you. Let's just say I enjoy how you're something of an odd one out. Uniqueness as an asset is something I value, especially in this industry."
"If I'm not worthy, then may I propose that I'll only be a temporary assistant until you find a suitable idol for me? O-only if you'd allow it, of course."
He raised an eyebrow, not expecting those words from you.
"You're seriously determined to be an idol's producer?"
"I am."
"Even when being MY assistant provides better benefits?"
"Yes, sir."
"How stupidly honest. No, scratch that off the record: you're stupid AND honest." 
You laughed uncomfortably. You're not sure why you're so direct with the CEO. Being straightforward with your potential employer is quite a welcome change from your usual practice of masking your true thoughts with formalities. You usually keep your opinions to yourself, but his mere presence implores you to speak frankly.
"I know that look." He said. "You notice it too, right? We communicate rather naturally for an employer-employee relationship."
"Yes, sir. It's a bit strange."
"Hmm. If you look deep within your past, you wouldn't think it's strange at all."
What does he mean by that? 
Alhaitham reached his hand out. He smirked as you accepted his handshake.
His strong grip feels oddly familiar... You would think that you've known him from somewhere but you are still an Akademiya graduate. You need more evidence to support that gut feeling of yours.
"I like you. Let's get along for the next 5 years."
"Until you find a suitable idol for me." You answered without malice.
His face clenched slightly.
"Sure. Until you no longer need this company."
At that time, you should've noted that there's a difference between those two sentences.
-----
"I AM HERE." Your phone spoke in an AI voice.
It's been a long time since you had your first encounter with Kaveh & Venti and that interview with Alhaitham. Nowadays, you work hard to please the latter. 
You opened your phone. TeyvatPro's app logo is a heart-shaped leaf, but it's anything but natural and comforting. It's corporate and cold. The AKASHA - Device Policy app served as a reminder that you've long abandoned your old job and entered a new business environment.
You miss your old boss. You miss your old colleagues.  
You looked around, unfazed. It's just one of many features the AKASHA app has; it allows Alhaitham to make your phone speak whenever he's searching for you. Since you're usually around wherever he is, this tracker sufficed.
The door opened. You committed the painful error of fulfilling his demands at an ungodly hour of the night, and now Alhaitham has sent you more tasks.
Alhaitham pocketed his phone after seeing you. He just used it to make your phone ring. The AKASHA app doesn't allow you to silence his calls. It'll only stop saying "I AM HERE" once your boss turns it off.
"Mx. (Y/n)."
"Here are the files, sir." 
Miffed at the exasperation in your boss's tone, you cast your eyes downwards as you passed his folder. However, you have to face him head on or he'll begin his streak of "professional" insults. 
You won't let him run his mouth just yet. "Would that be all?"
Alhaitham didn't look like he was in his best mood. As he looked through the folder, skimming through each page with hawk-like eyes, you noticed two strange papers on his desk.
Is that... your file?
"S-Sir, permission to speak?"
"Granted."
"Why is my resume on your desk?" You showed your best poker face because you knew that your next words aren't pleasant. 
"Am I fired?"
Alhaitham spoke immediately, not looking up to face you. "You're uncharacteristically confrontational. Is it because it's 2 in the morning?"
He's wrong about the hour– you're always begrudgingly bending your schedule for your bosses– but he's right about your "lack of spine." However, while you don't need another ulcer, you need this job.
Alhaitham continued, now sporting a more pronounced frown.
"How did you arrive at such a conclusion? I took you as my assistant for good reasons and your groundless inference shames this company."
"I... Pardon?" Rude.
"Perhaps it was wrong for me to assume that you possessed a greater aptitude for critical thinking," Alhaitham spoke sardonically. "Take a look at the desk again. The reason why your resume is there should be obvious."
"Is that right?..."
You glanced at his desk again, gaining unspoken permission to touch and move papers on your boss's desk. When you did, the underlying reason became apparent.
Kaveh's file is also on his desk.
With nowhere to turn, you came up with a single hypothesis.
"Does... Does this mean..." 
You beamed a wonderful smile at your boss, unable back your excitement. "Does this mean I'll be reassigned as Kaveh's producer?!"
He smirked.
Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was pleased as you started associating his motivations with another cause entirely. 
You grabbed Kaveh's resume, grinning from ear to ear as you fan your face. "Holy. Oh my God. I'll finally be an idol's producer!"
"Kaveh is still a trainee," Alhaitham replied but you didn't hear him.
There's no better fit for you to work with than someone as theatric as Kaveh. Visual kei, rock, disco– it makes virtually no difference what Kaveh's idol genre will be; you don't care as long as it sounds nice! In addition to being the only noisy members of the "ABC" or "Alhaitham Bashing Coalition," you both graduated from Akademiya, thus it's impossible for you two to not be close friends. 
"I've never seen a person this happy for getting a downgrade."
"Then clearly you don't know what it's like for people who abandoned their engineering careers to pursue art."
"No. No, I don't." Alhaitham said, picking up more folders in his drawer. "Send this to Miss Minci down the first floor and you'll be excused for the day."
As you should've been in the first place. Today was a Sunday.
"Of course! Thank you so much, sir Alhaitham!"
He nodded, uninterested.
"Don't forget to close the door on your way out." 
--------
"I'm taking Kaveh off the list."
"No, it's nothing personal– never mind. Yes, it is. Alice, I can't tolerate it. If I could swap out Venti for Scaramouche on 5wirl, I would. They're too enmeshed with my assistant's business. They don't know (Y/n) any longer than I have, yet they act like they've been friends with them since they were young while they can barely recall who I am."
"I've looked at Kaveh's file and honestly, only an idiot would miss that he wants to join TeyvatProductions to spite me. He knows my history with (Y/n). He knows what I did to their old company."
"... Hah. Please. They're not going to resign. I listen to their phone calls– they're not going to leave until they pay off their student loans and other debts."
You swallowed dryly. By now you were supposed to be at home, but Miss Minci instructed you to return Alhaitham's folder with her revisions and now you can't help but listen while hiding behind the bookshelf in morbid curiosity.
Consequently, you are now hearing sounds that were not intended for your ears.
"... (Y/n)? A pet?"
Alhaitham laughed.
A pet...?
Your breath hitched as you recalled a conversation you had with Venti months prior.
---------
"Haven't you ever wondered why the big boss never takes his earphone out?"
Whenever you two are alone together, Venti makes sure you turn off your phone when speaking to him. You never understood the reason why before this talk.
"Nope."
"Seriously?" Venti blew a raspberry. "Bullshit– ain't no way. You've never thought that, hmm, maybe he's listening to our conversations? Not even once?"
Alhaitham looks at you like an ant lining up in a row: with clear indifference and little regard, yet he is confident that you serve a purpose no matter how insignificant it may be. You noticed that the ability to exercise control matters to him. Alhaitham is obsessed with omniscience in the most subtle way. He is slightly despised by his people, therefore he used you as a subpar pawn to observe their behavior.
Deep down, you know he has no need for an assistant; you're only here to boost his pride. Hence, you tossed that hypothesis out the window.
"No, I doubt he has the time for that." You said after contemplating.
"Gosh, you're naive," Venti sighed. "You're book smart but not street smart, aren't you?"
"Hah?"
"C'mon, just admit it, (Y/n)," the idol frowned.
"Isn't it obvious that Alhaitham's keeping you like a pet?"
----------
So that's what you are.
Now that you overheard Alhaitham's phone call, everything pieced itself together and it terrifies you.
"They're not a pet to me. They were once my mentor–" Alhaitham muttered.
You took a step back.
Shit.
He must've heard that.
You didn't mean to snoop around. You're not a bad person. You just wanted to drop a few more folders. You didn't mean to eavesdrop–
"... (Y/n), are you there?"
You didn't breathe as you continued hiding behind the bookshelf.
You can't handle this right now. Confrontations are something you do not trust yourself with. 
You stole a glance at Alhaitham as if seeing him for the first time. There sat a man with a veneer of calm. A man you've never met before.
"... Hmph."
Alhaitham pulled out his phone.
His face, his smirk, his breathing... they're now entirely alien to you.
Your phone rang.
"I AM HERE."
Your blood froze.
Anxiety coursed through your veins, not to recede but to possess. Your reaction is almost immediate yet his impinged movements served to make your heart run faster. You propel your heels to the door in a noisy attempt to leave even while you heard his chair drag against the floor, making his way toward you effortlessly. 
Then his cold hand was clamped above yours, holding you and the doorknob with intense firmness.
You trembled.
His grip feels like deja vu.
"There you are. Why are you still here, my assistant?" 
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ANSYTEA: hehe thank you ✾ anon for joining the 1k event <333!!!
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bluetooththereptile · 2 years
Note
Hello! I wanted to know if you still have open commissions. since I have an idea of ​​Damián Platonic Yandere that always runs in my brain. How about a Platonic Yandere Damián for his nanny? She raised him for several years in the League, and managed to sneak her into Wayne Manor when he left with her father. He loves her so much and even wants her to be his stepmother.
OMG! It's so cute that I had to stop everything to write this down! Of course I can do it! I'm always am open for wholesome asks like this!
BTW I had to change some stuff on my own since I couldn't understand more than half of your request, sorry!
The moth and candle
Yandere Damian Wayne x fem reader x yandere Bruce Wayne
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( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)
Tw: mentions of abuse and injury
If years ago, when you were a young girl and stumbled upon a man hiring maids in the bazaar of Cairo, someone approached you and said you'll be trapped in a powerful man's grasp, not as a toy or a maid but as a lover, you would've called them crazy, and if they had told you your mistress's son was going to become yours, you would've hit them with a shovel, how could you take such a monstrous lady's son as yours? The baby would be going to have her blood in his veins, you'd never take a child from that bloodline, your master was going to haunt you forever if that was written in your fate!
But here you were, looking at your reflection in the mirror, touching the bandages on your face, thinking about the past 12 years. You had gone from a servant girl that had been used by her master and was forced into having his child, to a free person, now living your life away from all of those nightmares. You felt dizzy from all of the anesthesia circling in your bloodstream, but you had to see what your former mistress had done to you when you had tried to protect Damian from her mother, hitting her in the shin, only to be stabbed by her sword several times and your face gets mutilated by her dagger after she had knocked you out, but you had managed to gain your consciousness and punch her in the face, taking her down before fainting because of blood loss.
"Sick bitch..." you cursed under your breath, not having the ability to talk louder, your wounds were still fresh and you barely could stay conscious as you tried to hold the mirror in your hand. "Alright, ma'am now it's time to give me my mirror!" The nurse that was sitting beside your bed said, giggling, remembering her existence made you smile as you handed her mirror back to her with a low "thank you", receiving a smile from her. "You shouldn't stay up long, you need to rest you know..." She said as she tucked you in "Your son is worried about you, so make sure to take care of yourself and do as I and your doctors say okay?" She paused as she checked her watch "Speaking of your son...I think it's the time for relatives to meet the patients..."
You could hear the loud sound of steps, someone was running, and as you expected Damian showed up in the door frame "Mother!" He screamed your name as he ran toward you, but the nurse stopped him before he reached you "Wait, young man!" Damian glared up at the nurse, making her chuckle "The way you are running you'll hit her in seconds...slow down...she just has  woken up!" Damian listened and straightened himself, which was a rare occasion for him to care about someone telling him what to do, he impatiently looked at you, and as soon as the nurse's hand was taken away Damian was on your side, his hands grabbing the sheets on your bed.
You could see him bite his lip and take deep breaths to control himself so the nurse could leave and as soon as the nurse left, Damian's eyes turned glossy, tears forming in his eyes and he let himself cry with a loud sob as he lowered his head, you moved your arm to pat his head, and your cold hand rested on his hair as he now held the hem of your medical gown between his fingers if it was not because of your wounds he would've hugged you tightly already. He put his hand on yours as he kept crying, letting loud sobs ease his frustration. You were alive, with him there, it almost seemed like a dream!
"A-Amah..." Damian managed to say, calling you like the way he had done since the time he had learned to speak, your fingers touched his hair and ruffled it a little bit, your heart clenching at the way he looked at you, relief, sadness, anger, frustration, and pain, you could see all of that in your boy's eyes, and it warmed your heart to see how much he loved you, the wet nurse that has taken her duty to another level, raising her mistress's son with full devotion. "Amah...I was scared!" He said as he burst into tears again, no one, even his father had seen the boy break down like this as he held your hand with both of his, keeping it on his head like a sacred object, "I thought you died!" He managed to say, and all you could do was to watch and listen, you couldn't say a word to him, you were too tired to do that.
You sighed as he put your hand down and kissed your knuckles, pressing your palm on his cheek, melting at the feeling of your touch. He let out a sigh of relief, now knowing you were not going to leave him. He was always afraid of losing you, that was why he had an argument with you on the night of his father's annual ball when you had told him you were going to leave him for a while, just to go and find your child that was taken away from you at birth. That night Damian had felt his fear become real, that was why he had started yelling and lashing out and locking the door on you, if other maids had not found you, you would have been locked in your room till morning. And after that, you had to explain to the butler, Alfred, why you couldn't do your duties as one of the maids.
Damian loved you more than his real mother, even when he lived with Taliah he always looked forward to meeting you, he liked to share his food with you after his hard training when you wiped his wounds clean and nagged under your breath about how reckless he was. His mom had told you you made his son weak and soft, and you had taken so much whipping for talking back and saying that she was treating him like a weapon and not a real child. He watched as his mother hit you with her staff, having nightmares of you getting hurt. Taliah was jealous of you taking away what was hers, and still, he thought of him as a weapon.
That was why when he left his mother he sent you a pack of money and fake identification cards and visas, and you ran away, moving to the US to get to Gotham, seizing the chance to get to work as a maid in the Wayne Manor. You could still feel the rush of joy when you locked your eyes with Damian as he was having his breakfast, the boy hardly could keep himself from running to you and hugging you tightly.
"I'm alright..." you said, smiling as he put sat next to you, looking at you closely, you noticed he was looking at the scars on your face and it made you feel a little uncomfortable, now knowing you wouldn't look good as you used to. "Amah?" You looked at him again, letting him know that you were listening. "Now I know why you told me to story of the moth and candle...you're my moth!" You couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise, the reality of his confession hitting you hard.
"Once upon a time, a moth who loved the sun flew in the night, it couldn't find its beloved but suddenly, a light caught its eyes, it was a candle's, it flew closer and closer to the candle, flying around it, twirling in happiness it started to sing for the candle about how much it loved it's light, but as the moth moved closer it's wings burnt and soon it died, falling with its wings burnt, but it died happily because it had found it's beloved."
You heard someone knock on the door, and your gaze moved towards the door, where Bruce Wayne was standing with a smile. Damian sniffled as he held your hand tighter, not caring if his father was seeing how soft he has grown, you were his real mother so he didn't mind that. "Glad to see you awake Y/N..." your heartbeat turned faster, the monitor beeping more, making Bruce's smile turn warmer, he could still the night of the gala, when he had pulled you to an empty hallway, confessing his feelings to you, earning a harsh slap from you and made him even more interested. He knew that you liked him, he had monitored you since the time you had come to the manor, knowing well who you were and what was your background. At first, he had thought of you as a double agent for the Alghul family, but no, you were there just for his son, and it amused him. You liked him, but you had thought that at the gala he was just playing around, using you. But then when Damian had said how much his father was interested in you, you were sort of relieved.
"Thank you for everything..." Bruce thanked you, his appreciation genuine. You nodded your head at that, Bruce put his hand on yours "Y/N..." he called your real name, leaning closer "I know I've said this before...but will you give me a chance?" He whispered, chuckling as he looked at Damian who was looking at you two with a pair of eyes that were filled with amusement and interest. You looked up at him, looking deep into his eyes, tangling your fingers with his, as you lowered your head, nodding. You couldn't see it but the way his eyes gleamed and that sick look on his face was not a good sign.
Bruce looked at Damian who was now smiling, his head on your thigh as you kept patting his head, he was happy to see you two finally get along, after all, he was the one who had drilled your name into his head and set Bruce's obsession of you! Bruce put his hand under your chin, raising your head gently. "I love you Y/N..." he said as he pressed his lips on yours, and you kissed him back as the monitor that kept your heartbeat in check beeped even faster. Now you were their moth...
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gayleviticus · 1 month
Text
I was skimming thru the gospels recently, trying to get a feel for how they're structured for myself, and smth that caught my eye are what events each Gospel use to open Jesus' ministry after the initial baptism, gathering disciples etc
Matthew, wanting to present Jesus as a second Moses, opens with the Beatitudes, and the sermon on the mount. Jesus is an authoritative teacher of God's Law, the Torah, and how he tells us to live is important.
Mark similarly opens with Jesus teaching in a synagogue, except - we aren't told any of what he said! But we know he teaches with authority, an authority he demonstrates in a very dramatic way by casting a demon from a possessed man. Jesus is God's representative, one who speaks and acts with authority, and yet there's something mysterious about him that can't yet be grasped.
and it's interesting, bc it's sometimes said by people trying to push back against a hyper-theologised protestantism that neglects the social justice implications of the Gospel, that christians spend too much time focusing on the epistles theologising about who Jesus is, than the Gospels which tell us about his moral teachings. But if we accept such a binary division (which I don't), Mark is much closer to the latter than the former; he gives us some teaching, for sure, but much of his Gospel is about establishing Jesus' authority not just through miraculous works but through his Passion and Resurrection.
Luke, meanwhile, opens with Jesus at the synagogue in Nazareth, applying the words of the Prophet Isaiah to himself to declare the Spirit of the Lord is upon him to proclaim liberation and the year of the Lord's favour - in response to which he is rejected by his own hometown. This is doing a lot of things at once; firmly placing Jesus in the tradition of the OT prophet hated by others for speaking the truth and championing social justice, but also foreshadowing Luke's interest in the eventual way Christianity was rejected by Jews and went to Gentiles (which btw i acknowledge this raises issues of supersessionism, but we do not have time to unpack those; suffice to say Luke wrote with a specific agenda at a specific point in time when there was a v specific relationship btwn Jews, Gentiles, and Christianity as a Jewish sect).
Finally, John opens with... Jesus turning water to wine? It almost seems like a parody next to the other gospels! Next to handing down the law, casting out demons, and fulfilling biblical prophecy, throwing out some extra booze at a party seems rather indulgent.
Jesus even seems to acknowledge this "What concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come." The Son of gOD should be making a big, dramatic debut, not performing party tricks. And yet he does it anyway.
I'm sure there's much to be said about the theological significance of this - a reference to the Eucharist, a fulfillment of OT themes of the great eschatological banquet with wine running freely, 'the best wine saved for last' as symbolising Jesus.
But what strikes me most is how low-stakes it is - and it's not as if the rest of John is exactly slice-of-life; unlike the other 3 gospels people are much more consistently out to get Jesus here. And yet as his first great sign, through the miracle of water into wine Jesus celebrates the goodness of God's creation, of wine to make man's heart glad, of weddings to join two people in commitment, of parties to celebrate family and friendship. In a sense he's hallowing everyday life here; the lack of drama is the point.
And I think it makes for a poignant book-end with the epilogue to John, which involves no dramatic ascension to heaven as in Luke, nor the giving of the Great Commission as in Matthew, nor the ambiguous cliffhanger ending of Luke. It involves Jesus having breakfast on the beach with his besties. Jesus' ministry in John starts with a wedding and ends with brunch with the bros.
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yellowwithalisp · 1 year
Note
i would love some more james x reader!
love u btw :))
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Stuck with me. James Sunderland x reader.
I hiss in pain as James gently cleaned out my injured shoulder with a warm washcloth. We were both out looking for supplies earlier today when we were both ambushed by a monster. We didn't see where it was coming from. But I pushed James out of the way before he was injured. The thing cut my shoulder pretty badly and James was able to shoot at killing it. I tried to hide how bad the cut was. I told him that we can keep going but he said no. He look horrified at what I'd done and he brought me back to the apartment we were both using as a bunker at the moment.
I was sitting on the couch with my tank top on as he was cleaning out my injury. He looked worried. Really worried. When we first met I asked him some questions about himself and he did the same for me. I found out that he was military- well. Former military but, he probably lost some friends that way. And what I did definitely didn't help. I hissed when he started cleaning it out more he gave me an apologetic look before he kept going.
"Please… Don't do that again. This cuts bad enough as it is."
"I had my gun, I would have been ok-"
"You didn't even have your weapon ready."
I guess he was keeping me closer eye on me than I thought. He noticed that I hadn't had time to reload my gun.
"We both didn't see where that thing came from. It just came out of the blue from the back of the shop! Who knows what would happen if I didn't push out of the way?"
He paused for a moment.
"If you were a little bit closer to it… It would have killed you I….. I don't want to risk seeing you hurt like that…"
I looked away from him, he sounded so hurt… Worried. Everything happened so fast. One moment we were both looking for supplies, the next moment I was pushing him out of the way and I was attacked. I saw the horrified look on his face before he raised his gun and shot the monster dead. The moment is still replaying in his mind. The rain kept hitting the window on the apartment. Filling in the silence slightly. I looked over at it watching The raindrops. Not like you can see much outside past the fog.
"You could have died. If you were just a bit further into that attack… It would have hit your head instead of your shoulder. You could have been-… you could have-"
He didn't need to finish that sentence, I looked back at him with the sad frown on my face.
"If I didn't do anything, you were the one who was going to be attacked. I wasn't just going to stand there and not do anything, James. I don't want to see you hurt either."
He sighed. Clearly thinking about something in his mind but not saying it. He turned to get a needle and thread ready to stitch up the injury before he paused. He lowered the needle slightly and look back at me.
"If…. We see that Pyramid Head thing… You need to promise me you'll run."
"Yeah, I'll run away with you and make sure we both get the safety."
He gave me a sight stern look.
"That's… Not what I mean. That things after me, not you."
"Yeah, and I'm not just going leave you alone to fight it. I'm going to help."
He started to close the wound as he talked.
"It could kill you. I don't want to see-"
"-It could very well kill you too. We both don't want to see each other hurt."
He paused says he took a deep breath before continuing to sew the wound shut. I watched him the whole time.
"You're stuck with me, James. Like it or not I'm not going to leave you like That. I promise to help you and that's exactly what I'm going to do. We're both going to make it out of this town alive."
For once a rarest small smile appear on his face it was a nice sight as he let out a soft chuckle. I smiled back as he finished putting fresh bandages over the injury before standing up and offering his hand to help me off the couch. I took it as a silly stood up. He was monitoring the Band-Aid to make sure no bleeding started. I didn't let go of his hand right away. I gave it a gentle squeeze.
"It's been a long day for both of us… We should get some sleep before going back out tomorrow."
He gave me a tired smile and not his head. Still holding his hand I let him back to the bedroom so he could close the door behind us. I slowly climbed into bed and he made sure that I wasn't laying on my bad shoulder before he laid down as well. We were both facing each other as my eyes started to close. He had a slight fluster look on his face but he closed his eyes as well. Neither of us said anything as we listen to the rain falling. I was focusing on both the rain and his gentle breathing before my mind took over and I fell asleep. He stayed awake a little bit longer making sure that I was okay before he also close his eyes and let's see take over him.
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yallemagne · 2 hours
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genuinely curious, what do you think about Jack x Art as a ship
you know it's a good question when i unlock my chambers to fetch the laptop.
Love it. I'm obviously not as invested in it as Mina/Jonathan or even Arthur/Lucy, but I love it.
Before I get too deep into this, I'm begging you, if you like Jack/Art read @bluecatwriter's fics for it on ao3. Such amazing work. I need to catch up, but I haven't had reading brain.
Think we're gonna have to dip a little into headcanon here. And I spoil the book, newcomers beware.
I see these two as family friends. Obviously, what with the familiar nicknames Art and Jack. Both from wealth, though Arthur has titles and land and Jack has medical nepotism. I imagine Jack's upbringing to be very emotionally stunting, raised to embody rigid standards of masculinity. Meanwhile, Arthur's father decided to put all the work he could in making him feel emotionally supported, leading to a very emotionally driven young man. When they were little, I imagine Jack almost hating Arthur for how sensitive he is, saying he's spoiled, but it's really just bitterness over not getting a healthy upbringing.
And then they grow up, and Arthur grows a million feet taller, and Jack has a lot of complicated feelings about that. Cue "Don't be intimidated, Seward. Try to imagine him in his underwear.". Jack is a bit more mature at this point and recognizes Arthur's emotional maturity as a good thing. He still tends to view it as "Arthur is masculine enough to make up for some feminine habits", so it isn't perfect. Meanwhile, Arthur has always looked up to Jack, though he now has to crane his head down. The two of them embody something the other finds admirable, and their regard for one another sits in this void space between respect and attraction.
Now. Sexuality. There are two wolves in my head. One is more interesting. The wolves are: Jack is disaster bisexual and Jack is compulsory heterosexuality gay. The former is what is said about every single male character in the history of tumble fandom, and the latter feels more interesting from a writing perspective. For the development of this relationship, I lean toward the latter. THIS IS RELEVANT I PROMISE.
So... I think Arthur introduces Jack to Lucy in hopes they would get along because Arthur wanted Jack to one day be his best man. Very awkward when (this is just an interpretation of the events btw) Jack subconsciously recognizes Arthur's feelings for Lucy and projects his feelings for Arthur onto Lucy because Perfect Man likes Girl -> Like Girl to become Perfect Man.
(I do think Jack truly falls in love with Lucy as a person separate from Arthur over the course of the story, but not romantically. He just can't perceive it as anything other than romantic because of heteronormativity.)
Arthur loves and trusts Jack so much that, even knowing Jack proposed to her the same day he did, he goes to him and asks for help when Lucy is sick. This love and trust means he doesn't think to ask questions, though. I talked about that before.
When Arthur loses his father, his existing family, and Lucy, the woman he was going to build a new family with, he falls apart in Jack's arms. He trusted Jack with Lucy's health, and she died without Arthur ever being informed how dire of a condition she was in, and he still trusts Jack with his emotions. Jack isn't fully equipped to comfort Arthur, but his attempt is genuine and deeply appreciated by Arthur.
And then Bram wrote Arthur being comforted by the only other recurring female protagonist and decided that that marked the end of Arthur existing meaningfully in the story because Bram is a coward.
I've already written a post about Jack's feelings of entitlement regarding women and why it's more than just shipping that makes me resist the idea that Arthur and Jack married anyone other than each other. Their relationship is based on mutual respect and a willingness to be vulnerable with each other. The key to getting these two hitched is getting Jack more open to vulnerability, and then we are set.
Following the events of Dracula, Jack is anxious about embodying perfect masculinity, getting a wife, having a million kids... but this anxiety manifests with him bothering Arthur to do it. Arthur is in no rush to do any of these things. The woman he was preparing to build a family with is gone. Jack, who sees every single woman as a potential wife because of misogyny, is flabbergasted. Perhaps they have a falling out (just cut out my write-up of the falling out bc I'm like "that's a good idea!" even though I know I'll never write it). Jack has been pressing Arthur to move on because Arthur embodies the masculinity that Jack strives for, and if Arthur doesn't want a wife, what if Jack doesn't want a wife either?? What if they're both gay??? Arthur asks "...well, what if?"
Then they have a Vegas wedding.
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thefreakhouseband · 1 year
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Welcome to the Freak House!
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About Us
Audrey Arson
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I'm the oldest of the band. I'm a bit of a self-proclaimed older sister to the others and I feel super protective of them. When I'm not making music with the band you can usually find me working on my comic or some other artistic pursuit. I'm a chronically exhausted college student. You can tell what songs I wrote by them having a more jazzy or melancholy tone to them or just being bat-shit off the walls insane. Some of my inspirations are MCR, Scene Queen, , Set It Off, and Demi Lovato (for some reason).
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-Your resident garbage girl
Butchface
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I’m that guy with the neon green hair in the blog’s pfp lol. pronouns are he/him, xe/xem/xyr, and it/its. I take a lot of influence from older punk rock and, surprisingly, country and folk music. my favorite bands are My Chemical Romance, Oingo Boingo, They Might Be Giants, The Cure, Talking Heads, Bikini Kill, Shilpa Ray, Black Sabbath, Rainbow, Iron Maiden, The Magnetic Fields, The Daniel Pemberton TV Orchestra, Lemon Demon, Man or Astro-Man, Radiohead (not in a pretentious way, I swear), Will Wood, Creedence Clearwater Revival… oh boy, there’s a lot. I like music! I tend to disappear at unpredictable intervals due to chronic pain/fatigue and parental restrictions, but I always come back. I like writing songs about things I’m passionate about, which is often personal, sometimes political, and every now and then a ballad about freaky-looking deep sea creatures. or weevils. I keep my dad’s old stenobook by my bedside to write lyrics in - he wrote lyrics for the Panama City punk bands he was in in 1990-ish in there, and I figured I could put it to good use again after all these years. he’s cool with it. see you around, and stay safe out there 🪲
Harley Homicide
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I'm sassy, I'm trashy and (if you pay me enough) I'll let you put it in my ass-y. I'm the band's second oldest and the token British person. I use any pronouns, I literally don't care what you call me xx. My music taste is all over the place, having been raised by a metalhead and a former chav during a time where pop punk and emo were more mainstream. I'd say my biggest inspirations in terms of performing are Freddie Mercury and Ronnie James Dio. You'll be able to tell which songs are written by me because they're shit! I'm not much good at writing, but I'm great at partying like I'm Paris Hilton. When I'm not doing band stuff, you can find me shopping, watching/reading/playing anything DC comics related or just sorta... Staring into space. I don't do much, but I'm still your fave member fer sure! Thanks for visiting The Freakhouse! We hope you enjoy your stay!
Xoxo Harlz <3
Dart Darling
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Hi I'm Dart, I'm genderfluid (any pronouns), and I'm from under the ground at your local graveyard! I'm one of the youngest, and that's super tragic because I'm an undead zombie who died from being too damn glamorous. My idol is Melissa Marie and i love the Millionaires. Also, my ghostly tendencies give me a lot of appreciation for the dramatic, and as well as all things scene and crunkcore I love theatre, cabaret, and steampunk. I've been producing music for about a year now so if the synths crunching, just know it was me, tapping away and not understanding what the equalizer does. I'm bringing you Dead Girl Couture 25/8, 366. Don't mind all the Sanrio merch around the Freakhouse, I started a cult for Hello Kitty! I mean church. You should definitely join us 😁
Til death do we party,
-Dart <3
GRACIEEEE
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YOOO WASSUP!!! X3 My namez GRACE! (if you dont know me, pls call me Grace, not Gracie)
I'm gendersylphen (he/they/neos) and I'm a super cool alien with adhd from OUTER SPACEEEE! My fav colors are all of them except brown, my special interests are space and doraemon, and I LOVE SCENE SM! Crunkcore 4 LYFEEE! I wanna be an astronaut when I grow up! Also I'm the youngest here 💀💀💀💀💀 (btw im a minor so plz don't be a weirdo, tyyyy)
I'm mostly new to music and I'm SUPER excited!!! X) Ik this is gonna be rllyrlly fun!!! For me, my music stuff is gonna be super bouncy, upbeat, happy, optimistic, full of rhymes, so tht's when yk smth's by me! My fav bands/artists are Amy Can Flyy, Green Day, Nikasaur, 4*Town (4townie 4 eva!!! Aaron T is best boy) and a LOT of other stuff.
When I'm not with tha band, you can find me playing with my sibs (including my dog), doing stuff with my homiez, reading/watching Doraemon or abt space, or doing idk whatever bc I do alot. XP
So ye! Thts a bit abt me! Tysm for reading abt us, may God bless u, follow ur dreams, and have a super duper fun day! 😄
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I know the Shiro as Bruce Wayne's kid fic is probably abandoned (not meant as a slight or anything btw i have So Many fics i've abandoned writing as well) but i just read through it and i gotta say it is So Damn Incredible. The idea of former tech support, happy to be civilian, Shiro ending up the one in the most shit is insanely good. I keep thinking about the bats reaction to the footage of Shiro when he crash landed on Earth before Keith grabbed him, to see the replaced arm and numerous scars and shock of white hair, and the relief of him being alive but At What Cost?
If they ever manage to get their hands on tapings of Shiro's time in the arena you Know they would watch every single one, to the point they know more about Shiro's missing year than he does. Bruce would be so torn because Shiro used the knowledge and quick thinking passed down to him to stay alive but Shiro wasn't ever meant to be in danger like this. Shiro wasn't ever supposed to be in a situation so dangerous. His son only wanted to be an astronaut.
(Is he cursed to forever see the ones he loves suffer?)
Jason with his hackles raised preemptively in defense of Shiro because fuck the no killing rule, Shiro had always been the best of them and this hasn't changed it. Dudes ready to fight Green Lantern if the guy says the Galra aren't 'that bad' one more time - Look What They Did To His Brother, Obviously They Won't Say Shit To You If They're Planning On Invading Earth! You're From Earth!
Sorry for all my blabbering, It's just really good and i'm very thankful you wrote it <3
Anon I hope you see this.
1. Guess what bud that fic is coming out of hibernation bc I’m back into Voltron and I’m still ongoing into Batman and it’s been churning in my mind. Part of my plans for spring break next week include rereading my fic, rereading all my writing notes, working out where to go with it, going back and editing the chapters I already have written, and starting to write the rest of it. I make no promises on the timeline of a new chapter, as I’m in grad school and super busy, but that fic has lived rent free in my mind for half of a decade.
2. Thank you so much for your comments and enthusiasm!!! YEAH like part of the juiciness is that this is supposed to be Bruce’s civilian son who just wanted to be an astronaut!!!!! Flying space ships is so safe on the relative scale of things!!!!!!! But no!! Instead it’s his son who ends up like put through unimaginable torment AND who has to kill so much!!! The complexes that is going to give everyone.
The green lanterns are an aspect I had to and still have to think a lot about to work in to world building but YEAH Jason would be mad as hell. Tbh I think Hal Jordan would be equally ready to fight the galra bc he definitely had a bond with Shiro bc that’s Bruce’s coworker in the piloting/space industry
Ok the batfam seeing the footage of gladiator fights is something that I can’t remember if it was in my notes but like woof anon might have to use that bc that concept is juicy as hell
Anyways thank you so much for this message. I hope you know I’m gonna start working on that fic again very very soon
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mermaidsirennikita · 1 year
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so i finally read devil in winter, thank you so much for that btw, i had a GREAT time, finished it in one afternoon, bless you truly <3 now i understand evie and sebastian appear in other novels? could you tell me which ones to read bc i swear i loved those two and also any other novels i might like if i enjoyed that one? THANK YOU
Yessss I’m so glad enjoyed it!!!! I saved this as a draft and I'm not sure if you're going to see this if I don't make it public (I'm sorry!) so posting now. If you haven’t read the other Wallflowers books, Evie is in all the other ones as a supporting character. Sebastian is the villain of book 2, obvi, lol. He also cameos in book 4 where he’s kinda on thin ice with everyone but Evie is preggers so they’re stuck with him.
They have their own cute scenes in A Wallflower Christmas, where they have pregnant Christmas sex.
Otherwise, I think Sebastian cameos in Mine Till Midnight…. Then in the Ravenels he and Evie show up a lot because three of the books are about the offspring.
Devil in Spring—their son Gabriel is the hero, it’s real cute; the prologue is them role playing while Sebastian tries to break it to Evie that their oldest son totally compromised a girl lol
Devil’s Daughter—their eldest, Phoebe, is the heroine; it’s very popular and she’s a widowed single mom who falls for a former scoundrel, but tbh this one does nothing for me
Devil in Disguise—very controversial but super connected to their family, especially Sebastian. Not sure if you've been spoiled there, so I won't say more :)
For book that might hit similar places, I'd recommend...
When the Duke Was Wicked by Lorraine Heath. An all time favorite of mine, and I think it has a great rake hero (also, the heroine is a sweet redhead!) The basic setup of the book is that the hero and heroine were raised as family friends, their parents were tight, but he's nine years older. He had no idea, but she had this intense girlish infatuation with him and was crushed when he married young... and he was super devoted as a husband, but then his wife and young daughter died and he radically changed and became this super slutty rake. The impetus of the novel is that the heroine, Grace, asks the hero, Lovingdon, to help her find a good husband and he ends up corrupting her--which is maybe what she wanted, lol. He's so slutty, but he also adore Grace and can't fucking accept it because he's having such a hard time with accepting that he could love someone else... maybe even more than he loved his wife.
TW: past medical crises are discussed at length; lmk if you need more info.
You could also check out Surrender to the Devil by Lorraine Heath--another bad boy duke aristo hero and a lovely redheaded heroine, lol. This one is about the parents of the heroine of the book I just recommended. She grew up on the streets and is just this really sweet woman, he's this rakish caustic duke (who has a lot of inner pain, naturally). He decides to make her his mistress, but ends up falling head over heels.
TW: heroine was sexually assaulted as a child and is very traumatized; the hero is really gentle with her once he realizes she has sexual hangups. There's also a lot of discussion of the abuse of a side female character.
Any Duchess Will Do by Tessa Dare. This is another "we saw this hero be a slutty douche in a previous book, now he's back and falling in love". Tessa's books are funny and sexy but also emotional. The duke in this book was introduced in "A Week to be Wicked" (also a great book) as a tool, and he won't settle down, so his mom is like please choose a bride... and he's like you know what I'll choose this fucking barmaid. His mom takes him up on it and decides to My Fair Lady the barmaid, who he has no actual intention of marrying... until he falls for her lol.
How to Steal A Scoundrel's Heart by Vivienne Lorret. This one works really well, imo. The hero is a marquess who propositions the heroine to be his mistress, and at first she turns him down... but then she gives because she has nowhere else to turn. He's super cool with his love affairs, and gives her this contract that last four months, no more and no less. It's this super romantic, lovely romance and I so recommend it.
The Serpent Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt. A great "flashy rake x shy virgin" book. The heroine finds the hero left for dead on the side of the road, and she nurses him back to health.... And whoops, the rake falls hard! It's also fully insane, because Hoyt.
The Devil of Downtown by Joanna Shupe. A Gilded Age villainous rake/sweet virgin book. The hero is a rake and a gangster, and he ends up falling for the do gooder activist daughter of an influential man in town--and it's kind of a "who's corrupting who" thing.
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abybweisse · 2 years
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Hello Abby,
How are you?
I read that the planning for the former Queen Elizabeth's funeral (in real life) was codenamed "London Bridge" and was planned 30 years ago/since 30 years. Can you imagine that this also plays a role in BB, since the focus was/is on the construction of the bridge and it's actually also about the Queen's funeral and is supposed to be a hint as to when the Queen will die? so when the bridge is finished, the queen dies? Or something similar?
it's probably just a coincidence. I find the fact interesting nonetheless. Maybe yana came across it during her research and included it.
Btw iam glad that i found your blog🙏. Please keep writing your blog.🤗😉
London Bridge falling down
I've never heard the idea that Tower Bridge (or even the name of it) was ever associated with the death of Queen Victoria or planning for it. I've never come across that in my research about Tower Bridge, but that's interesting about "London Bridge" being the code name for planning QE2's funeral.
What I have learned about Tower Bridge is that:
It was built to make a more direct connection to east end London, because industries had expanded there.
It's the only bridge going across the Thames that raises up to let taller ships go through.
It's got an upper level for foot traffic, so people can cross even if the lower section is raised. But that path wasn't very popular for a while and was temporarily closed off because of that.
I'd read on the Wikipedia page that it was dedicated to Prince Albert, the queen's dead husband.
And that last one -- the dedication -- might be the most important aspect in Black Butler. That and how it would have been a symbol back then for England (and all of Great Britain) of the industrial revolution taking place. A symbol of the nation's strength and technological advancements.
I'm not entirely sure, from how your ask is worded, but perhaps you are not saying Tower Bridge is the code word... but how cool it would be if Yana-san decided to make that true in the Kuroverse. I just think that if that were the case, the queen (with a premonition or something from John Brown) would know, and she would try to postpone its construction to extend her own life. She seems like the sort who would delay something to keep herself alive a while longer... as long as the public didn't know that's what she was doing! 😆
Truthfully, I think it's quite the opposite here; I think she wants to finish this project, dedicated to her dead husband, and others have been delaying its construction. If you look up "tower bridge" in my blog, you will find a bunch of posts about my theory that Vincent wasn't cooperating with the queen (as much as demanded) regarding money and manpower for the project. It might be on purpose to slow it down, or it might be he simply had other priorities (which is what our earl tells Sebastian about why humans take so long to build things like that). Our earl says maybe the construction was delayed because people had other priorities. He wouldn't know he was talking about his own father here; it's a general statement, but he might have hit the nail on the head with that observation.
My observations about Tower Bridge are deeply rooted in my Mother3 theory, since King Porky is obsessed with technological advancements and maintaining popularity among his subjects (even if it means forcing or brainwashing them to adore him). The king has your house burned down, if you don't pledge allegiance to him... or if you do anything that shows a lack of loyalty to him. Lucas and Claus' house gets burned down at least twice. Nippolyte, the local and very eccentric gravedigger, has seen his home burned down something like 14 times. Eventually, he boards up what's left of it with a sign telling people to go away (or something like that).
So, I believe the Tower Bridge project might have something to do with why the Phantomhives were targeted on December 14, 1885. Not the only reason, but a big one. The project's timeline in real life is a bit different than in the manga. Notice that the plan was approved in 1875, around the time the twins were born. Then basically nothing for ten years. As soon as the Phantomhives were attacked and their estate was relinquished to the crown, the Tower Bridge project finally got into gear. The estate was back under Phantomhive ownership on March 15, 1886. But it was in the queen's hands long enough for her to take whatever funds she wanted for the project... as well as move people off the estate/out of the village and into London to help. Ch132 is extremely important for my theory on this, because Vincent specifically talks about the money and help needed to construct/repair bridges and dig ditches. He also explains that the estate and earldom do so well because of the people who live and work there. It's also around that time that Vincent and his sister argue about preparing his heir, and he half-jokes he might have to relinquish the earldom to the crown if he doesn't have an heir ready to take over. When our earl returns to the estate, he finds it's not just about a burned down manor. The estate and the village are run-down and slipping into further debt.
I know that ch151 has real Ciel learning about competition from the US due to cheaper imports, etc., but I don't think that's all of it. There was no indication, from Vincent or anyone else, about the estate or earldom suffering from financial or infrastructural decline as the twins' 10th birthday approached. Our earl might not have even known the entire truth about what the queen did with the Phantomhive coffers and workers while she had full access to them.
Now... if the bridge is finally finished and she dies? That would be an interesting touch. But I don't think it's particularly significant.
ETA: In Mother3, there's Lightning Tower, with some floors still under construction, but it's this structure that's used to strike down houses and other buildings, whenever King Porky is upset by disloyal subjects. There's also Empire Porky Building, which has 100 floors (so also a tall tower), and many parts of it are also still under construction.
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luckydragon10 · 2 years
Text
P&P Chapter 43
(Chapters 41 and 42)
Chapter 43 looks chonky, so I'm gonna do just one this time.
Score check:
Lizzy is down to +10.
Mr. Darcy continues to hold at -15.
BTW, I've decided to start considering this my sentimeter, or measurement of sentiment.
~~~
Chapter 43
“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress!"
Definitely sounding young and her age here. Silly child. Best to make sure you like the husband that comes attached with the house.
Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks; 
The uncle exists! And can speak!
Mrs. Reynolds: “Yes, sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him.”
I like Mrs. Reynolds. Potential new side blorbo.
Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.
Child. Judge others by how they treat people who are working, not by how they treat their peers and friends.
This feels like less a tour of the house than it is a tour of Mr. Darcy's real personality and motivations.
Something something something house as metaphor for real self.
What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant?
Theeeeere we go. Good girl.
Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.
Mmm, in some ways this isn't very fun to me? She seems to be softening and coming to like (love?) Mr. Darcy not by interactions with him but vicariously through other people's regard, and through her vanity at the idea that such an esteemed person was romantically interested in her. Eeehhh.
...her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.
Yep, knew this would happen, just wasn't sure when it would happen.
Amazed at the alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued were some of the most uncomfortable in her life.
The fact that none of this is written in dialogue is very frustrating. It seems like such an important meeting, and I can't tell what's being said.
(Mr. Darcy) At length every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a few moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took leave.
You wonderfully awkward potato. I'm going to give you 5 points for character consistency and for being damn funny. Maybe you'll get out of negative digits someday.
Oh wait. I still don't like the way you fucked Jane over. You're cute, but I will remember that.
Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no great distance. 
He's like a whack-a-mole game. He just keeps popping up.
It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.
I'm still in disagreement with Lizzy about family matters.
More of Lizzy being willfully blind about Mr. Darcy's regard... same old, same old.
It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred her husband’s. 
Mrs. Gardener needed no such thing. She knows what's up better than Lizzy does.
Mr. Darcy: “There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?”
This man needs help. Cart him off. He's insane.
“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied her uncle.
Whimsical? That's an understatement. He's a damn fucking unicorn is what he is. Very skittish, doesn't warm up easily.
In confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.
Lizzy. Your secret-keeping powers are SHIT.
(Chapters 44 and 45)
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vampirecatboy · 2 years
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Hello please tell us about Amaury and Bao
guh.. buh...
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ahem, anyway lol
first off Amaury
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his mom is a tiefling, and his dad is a merman, he's met neither. i originally planned for him to be raised by fairy vampires after his mom abandoned him in a fairy ring, but i'm instead going back to my original plan of them just being regular vampires, because i found out warlocks can have vampire patrons and i fell in love with the idea of Amaury serving the vampire that raised him (Josephine) and them having just the cutest relationship
originally, his patron was one of Josephine's thralls, Ariel, and Amaury was just so in love with him and wanted to be turned so they could be together forever, but Ariel kind of strung him along, then shacked up with some fairy vixen and broke Amaury's heart
so Amaury went crying to Josephine, who chewed Ariel out and maybe kicked his ass in a vampiric duel and took over as Amaury's patron, and now she's his mommy in the maternal sense, and in the warlock patron sense lol
as part of his deal with her, he finds her victims blood bags people to drink from, and helps her plan fancy vampire balls, because he's got an eye for aesthetics that she likes
oh what else what else
he's a TA at a magical college who got in trouble after he bit a student, but the student was a dick so it was morally correct, you know how it is with demons and fish men and demon fish men
now onto Bao! i haven't drawn him yet, but i found the perfect face claim a while ago and fell in love with him and was just itching to use him as inspiration:
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(his name is Tony Thornburg, he's a model if you can believe it, link to the tweet the photo is from)
so Bao looks like /that/ lol, Ariel who? he's a former pirate queen, current pirate king, who had Josephine turn him into a vampire so he could sail for as long as possible, while remaining spry. his crew is made up of non-vampires, so his ship can still be maintained in the daylight
so as for how he and Amaury met... after Amaury got his heart broken, Josephine wanted to help him feel better, so she told him to go for a nighttime swim on a night she knew Bao's ship was nearby and to "make friends of the sailors" (btw part of being half merfolk is that Amaury can adapt to water by transforming his legs into a merfolk tail)
Amaury went swimming, came across Bao's ship and decided to make an entrance by diving down deep, then building momentum, swimming up and out of the water, high enough that he was able to grab onto the edge of the boat and startle the people on deck (no one expects a blue-skinned, behorned mercreature to leap out the water and say hello in the middle of the night lol)
but anyway, they pull him onboard, and call their captain (Bao) who comes out of the captain's cabin to see Amaury just hanging out and hey like.... pirates and merfolk are a match made in heaven so he was instantly intrigued by this sad wet little man on his ship
they get to talking, Bao asks where Amaury came from and Amaury tells him about Josephine so instantly Bao knows Amaury is cool, so he gets him some blankets and takes him back to his cabin, and Amaury's got his legs back but uh... clothes don't come with you when you transform lol, so Amaury is just fully naked wrapped in a blanket in Bao's cabin
and like Amaury is still hung up on Ariel, but Bao is so hot and Amaury is naked in his cabin and like.... best way to get over someone is to get under someone else and hoo boy he sure got under someone else lmao
so they knock boots and hit it off and Bao is so charmed that he asks to see Amaury again and it's the beginning of a lovely skinship that blossoms into romance, Amaury starts calling Bao "dumpling," Bao lovingly refers to Amaury as his "little barnacle" because of his stunt with clinging to the edge of Bao's ship (though he might switch to a different pet name that i haven't picked yet)
anywayyy if you read all that i commend you lol
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tehuti88-art · 2 months
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4/19/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Lieselotte and Fredrik Albrecht. They aren't major characters, but they do play an important recurring background role; they're the well-off farm couple who take in Otto Himmel's disabled son, Kolten, following his rescue from Project Doomsday by the Trench Rats. Kolten is sweet natured but difficult to handle (he was intended to be used as a superweapon), but fortunately the Albrechts are well equipped (for a sad reason) to care for him. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.
Regarding their designs, Lieselotte is on the plump side, and I decided to make Fredrik a rather big but gentle-natured guy too. (BTW, Lieselotte's hair isn't pinned back under her ear, that's just an oddly placed earring.)
TUMBLR EDIT: I haven't any lengthy entry to go for the Albrechts (EDIT, though I guess I've written one anyway!); if they do have any extended history, it hasn't emerged yet. A bit of it appeared, though, as I was browsing my "to-draw" list, so I decided to do them next. They're relatively minor background characters, yet they reappear repeatedly and play an important enough role to deserve mention.
I'm not ENTIRELY sure of their social status. I've described them as farmers, though I don't think that's quite accurate; I think, rather, that they OWN a farm, and once employed people to work it for them. They have a big tract of farmland, and are relatively well off, living in the midst of what's generally considered Junker territory...yet they don't seem to be Junkers. I'd assume some kind of wealthy non-noble hereditary farming family, but I don't know that that's a thing. *shrugs* All I can really say is they're financially well off, even if not rich, and they live in a big fancy farmhouse-mansion thing, with similar houses scattered around the area (a recently abandoned one nearby plays a big role in the afterstory), and they own farmland. Anyway, by the time they appear in the story, the farm has gone defunct and the workers are all gone, presumably off to war-related things, so the Albrecht couple are the only ones left living there.
At some point in the story, while Project Doomsday subject Kolten is being transported between locations for some reason by a German escort, they have a run-in with the Trench Rats, who've received information about the project--and Kolten--from other escaped subject Jakob Wolfstein and Lance Corporal Silver Rat. Wolfstein insists that Kolten is not the threatening superweapon the Americans have been led to believe he is. Yet they're still skeptical; reports claim Kolten, or "Subject Zero," is huge in stature, possesses immense strength and resistance to pain, is full of explosive rage, and oh yeah, is insane. So when word comes through the grapevine that here's a chance to kidnap and potentially nullify him, the Rats seize it, and ambush the German convoy.
It doesn't go quite as planned. The Germans put up a bigger fight than expected, and both parties end up in an area riddled with old abandoned trenches; the Germans remove Kolten from the vehicle he's being transported in and attempt to get him to safety but have to keep evading gunfire. The Trench Rats finally manage to separate Kolten from his guards and take shelter in a trench. Kolten ends up in the company of LC Doomsday Rat, who, as a former subject of Project Doomsday himself, has come along to attempt to control Kolten if necessary. Kolten, his wrists in loose shackles, offers up no fight, just watches with a sort of dumb curiosity as everything happens around him. They're alone in the trench, waiting for the skirmish to end, when a German soldier abruptly appears above them. Ostensibly he's there to get Kolten back...except that Kolten had previously violently attacked him at project headquarters. Seeing him as vulnerable as a fish in a barrel, he instead raises his gun and takes aim. Kolten blinks. Just as the soldier pulls the trigger--D-Day launches himself over the lip of the trench and at him. The soldier, surprised, jerks back, but the gunfire meant for Kolten slams repeatedly into D-Day instead, and he collapses back into the trench, landing crumpled and bloody at the bottom.
Several Trench Rats converge on the spot at that moment, aiming at the German, when with a shattering roar Kolten then launches out of the trench and with a single swing sends the German soldier flying. Guy tumbles head over heels before crashing to the ground; the Trench Rats stand stupefied for a moment as Kolten grabs him by his arm, hauls him up, and hurls him over his head like a ragdoll. He tosses the soldier around and slams him into the ground a few times, bellowing in rage the entire time, before the Rats come to their senses and start yelling for him to stop. It's only when one of them gets close enough to the trench to see D-Day lying at the bottom, and calls out, that Kolten finally stops his assault, panting and sweaty, noticing the Trench Rat's distress at being unable to reach his companion, then glances down into the trench himself. He stumbles heavily back down the earth wall and splashes into the water, making a beeline for D-Day. The Trench Rats raise their voices and their guns, warning him to get back, yet he ignores them and reaches for the unconscious Rat. To their surprise, he stoops down and picks D-Day up--as gentle and careful as anything, cradling him to his chest almost like a baby. He turns back to the Rats and manages to trudge halfway up the earth wall, chunks of it crumbling away under his weight; unable to climb over the top without the use of his hands, he stretches out his arms, holding D-Day up for his companions to reach him. They quickly retrieve D-Day and bustle him off to get medical aid.
A few Rats remain to order Kolten out of the trench; he climbs out and they surround him, herding him toward one of their transport dogs, which he looks at in almost childish wonder. He's told to climb in the side compartment of its saddle. Kolten responds by snapping off his shackles. The Rats react with alarm, shouting for him to hold still; assuming his old restraints must have been damaged in the fight, one of them places on a new set. Kolten then promptly snaps them off as well. Realizing they have nothing on hand that he can't simply break out of, they place on one last set, and order him not to break them off, having to just hope that he'll behave himself. Kolten appears to understand basic English, or else he understands their tone of voice, for he doesn't break the shackles a third time, and instead awkwardly climbs into the compartment. The Rats close him in and follow the others back to Headquarters.
Kolten is placed in a barred cell at Trench Rat Headquarters; they're unsure if the bars can hold him, so tell him to behave, and set up armed guards nearby. Kolten simply sits, and does as he's told. It quickly becomes apparent he's...not quite the superweapon the Nazis have claimed. Yes, he's physically huge, immensely strong, resistant to pain, and full of rage. He's not, however, insane...he addresses the Rats in broken, simple English, and even his native German is stilted and plain, but aside from that, his thought and speech patterns are pretty normal. He has an astonishing memory, especially for faces and for the layouts of buildings--despite being blindfolded when led into Headquarters, he accurately provides a map of his route there, doodling it on the floor of his cell--yet lacks the proper words for many basic concepts, having to use roundabout ways to explain what he means. And his rage seems to be limited to what are basically temper tantrums; his normal state is placid and obedient, and he shows an eagerness to please. He even asks for blocks to play with. If it weren't for the fact that he's built like an ogre, and can snap metal shackles like they're twigs, and toss trained soldiers through the air like feather pillows, anyone observing him might mistake him for a child barely older than four or five.
Sergeant Black Rat goes to see him, waving off the guard who warns him to keep back; he rolls in an apple, which Kolten consumes, core and all, in two bites. When Black mentions Doomsday, Kolten asks if "the little Rat" is all right. Black explains that D-Day has lost a lot of blood, and needs a transfusion. Kolten promptly stands and lumbers forward, thrusting his arms out through the bars so the guard and Black jump back--yet all that Kolten does is turn his hands palms upward. "Magic blood," he exclaims, bobbing his outstretched arms. "It fix little Rat. I have lots. Bitte, take magic blood, bitte." The Trench Rats have figured out that D-Day and Kolten, as subjects of Project Doomsday, must share the same rare blood type and mutation, and Kolten is the only one on hand who can help. Kolten understands this too. He's offering his own blood willingly. The Rats take him to the medical ward, where the surgeon, Burgundy, warns him not to break the equipment. Kolten is led to a bed beside the one D-Day is in; it sags and creaks ominously under his weight, but holds, and Kolten remains still as he's hooked up to an IV which is also connected to D-Day. He sits quietly in his bed and stares at D-Day the entire time he's there, until Burgundy removes the IVs and bandages both their arms; he's then taken back to his cell, without incident. He's given another apple which he downs as quickly as before. D-Day gradually recovers.
The Trench Rats meet to discuss what next to do with their unusual prisoner. Keeping him confined in his small cell no longer seems feasible; it seems cruel. What they'd assumed was insanity appears instead to be a combination of the effects of the Doomsday serum, and some sort of developmental disability. Some of the Rats argue that no matter what his actual condition, Kolten is still a threat, and can't be released; others, such as Corporal Gold Rat, insist that he's safe to be around as long as he's treated properly. Kolten himself is aware of his condition; when Gold asks, he explains the black triangle patch he wears, saying it means that he's "stupid." He mentions spending much of his life in an institution before going to stay with "Doktor-Vater," the doctor in charge of the project, and being prone to tantrums even before the serum was used. Despite the awfulness of being subjected to human experimentation, it's likely this helped spare him from being exterminated by the Nazis as a mental defective. He even pleads with the Trench Rats to not send him back to the psychiatric clinic: "The men in skull-hats will take me away to the bad place. When they do, you never leave, except through the chimney. Bitte, let me stay, I'll be good." The Trench Rats assume that the "men in skull-hats" are the SS, and Kolten will likely be gassed and cremated if they let him go. They can't keep him where he is; they ponder where they should send him next.
LC Mahogany Rat tentatively offers a suggestion. He has a contact in the Abwehr, who in turn has put him in contact with others of anti-Nazi sentiment. Through this contact, he's been introduced to a couple who might be in the perfect place to handle this situation. Fredrik and Lieselotte Albrecht themselves had a son whose mental condition was much similar to, if not the same as, Kolten's; he lacked Kolten's skill with memory, but was prone to tantrums and like Kolten was incapable of learning how to read. Also like Kolten and his building blocks, he developed certain specific fixations, such as obsessing over Fredrik's old model trains, which he would carefully tend to and play with in the former large sitting room of their house, which they'd converted just for him--he would do this for hours, erupting in a rage if anyone tried to take the trains away from him. Mahogany's Abwehr contact, a rather nerdy, well-read man, says that the Albrechts' son never received any formal diagnosis aside from being "slow," but based on his own browsing of medical journals, current studies suggest a condition called autism. Mahogany (who has autistic traits himself) can't adequately describe this concept in a way his fellow Rats understand, though he does insist that this means Kolten is neither insane nor "stupid." Gold Rat is particularly touched by this info, as he'd told Kolten he wasn't stupid, while offering to take his black triangle from him; Gold is dyslexic, and grew up in an environment that treated him as if he were an idiot. The word "stupid" hits him quite hard and he tries never to use it. He asks what became of the Albrechts' son. Mahogany reluctantly replies that, similar to Kolten, he ended up being taken away by the state...some time later, the Albrechts received his death certificate and ashes. Just as Kolten had claimed would happen to him, he was taken by the SS men, and never came back.
Gold pales; he hadn't expected the Albrechts' story to end so gruesomely. Mahogany says that if they're looking for anyone who might be best equipped to handle someone like Kolten, it would be either his family/parents--presumably "Doktor-Vater"--or the Albrechts. Returning Kolten to Project Doomsday is out of the question, so Mahogany offers to ask the Albrechts if they'd be willing to take Kolten in, at least until the end of the war, when a more stable/suitable environment might be found. This proposal is accepted, and the Trench Rats travel out to their farm. Fredrik and Lieselotte seem reluctant and conflicted when presented with this decision; the knowledge that Kolten is the proposed Nazi superweapon is what makes them uneasy. Still..."What if it's like they say," Lieselotte says, "and he's just a frightened boy? Our son never meant any of the harm he did. He didn't understand. What if this one is the same? He deserves a chance...wouldn't you think?" Fredrik is a bit more cautious, but the memory of the loss of their son stings; "Maybe this is a sign," he muses, "maybe Herr Gott is sending us a second chance, another chance to get it right? If we can keep him safe, unlike before...maybe we can do some little bit of good."
The Albrechts soon convince themselves to take Kolten into their home until the war's end. The Trench Rats give them what little information they have, and they prepare their home for his arrival, their spirits and anticipation rising. They fix up their son's little old room at the top of the house, and Fredrik repurposes the unused sitting room yet again, removing the old train sets--wiping at his misty eyes more than once--and clearing the large table; he replaces the trains and scenery with a multitude of wooden blocks of all shapes and sizes, and Lieselotte fills the shelves with picture books and drawing pads. They childproof the home to the best of their ability, and Lieselotte lugs bolts of cloth into her sewing room, prepared to sew new clothes for Kolten as they've been warned about his unusual size. They put away all of their more expensive or sentimental fragile items, and stock the pantry with a good deal of food in case his appetite is unusual to match. They then anxiously await their new guest.
The Trench Rats finally arrive in a military truck. They open the back and Kolten steps out, practically on tiptoe, huddled in on himself, peering about uncertainly. He's never looked more like a child before now; when the Rats lead him onto the Albrechts' porch, and they open the door to greet him, Lieselotte's eyes tear up. "H...hallo, Kolten," she says when the Rats introduce them, and, "Hallo," Kolten says in a very small voice, quite unlike his hulking stature. The Albrechts invite him in; he's reluctant to enter, glancing at Gold, who goes in so he does himself. The Albrechts show him around, speaking softly, moving softly, so he doesn't feel threatened or startled; Kolten keeps his head down and his arms drawn in and doesn't speak the entire time, until they reach the little room under the roof; "I'm sorry the bed is a bit small," Lieselotte says, a little ashamed, "but maybe we can fix up a more comfortable cot for you?" To which Kolten pauses, then peers at her and murmurs, "This...this is my room? For just me?" Lieselotte confirms this, and asks, "You don't like it...?" "Nein," Kolten replies, "just...I've never had a room for just me...only ones with bars on them." Lieselotte has to wipe at her eye.
Lastly, they show him the sitting room with its large table and wooden blocks. For the first time, Kolten lifts his head, and his eyes light up. "For me?" he asks, and Fredrik confirms. "There are some rules, though," he adds; "You can't use the blocks all day," he says, "first you have to take your meals with us--breakfast, lunch, supper--and wash yourself up before bed, same time every night. Liesel can read to you a story before you go to sleep. And you will have chores...you know chores?" Kolten nods--"Ja, I know chores." "Not too hard chores," Fredrik goes on, "just you'll help Liesel and me around the place. If you don't know how to do something, I can teach you. And whenever you're not doing that, you can use your blocks and your books. When it's time for you to do something else, Liesel or I will tell you, and then you have to leave your blocks until you're done. There won't be any argument. You can leave your blocks exactly where they are and no one will touch them until you come back. Can you do this, Kolten...?" "I can," Kolten promises. He points at Gold, who seems surprised to be brought into the conversation, and says, "He says I am not stupid, I can learn," and Gold blushes. "That's right, Kolten," Lieselotte agrees, "there's no one stupid in our house. Just do your best, and that's enough." Kolten is starting to look hopeful, though he pauses, lowers his head a bit again, and murmurs, "May...may I ask one question?" Lieselotte says yes, and Kolten meekly asks, "Are...are there guards here?...and do they hit? Doktor-Vater tells them not to hit...but once in a while, they do." Lieselotte assures him there are no guards, before briefly excusing herself to sniffle and dab a handkerchief at her suddenly streaming eyes.
Kolten handles the introduction to the Albrechts' home well. He grows plaintive when Gold says the Rats have to leave now, and asks if they'll ever come back; Gold replies that he'll see him again, though he's not sure when. Noticing Kolten's dispirited state upon the Trench Rats' departure, Lieselotte asks if he's hungry, thinking to try to distract him; "Nein," Kolten says gloomily, then, oddly, "Danke." He adds, "Herr Hauptsturmführer taught me you always say 'danke' to be polite. Sometimes I forget, but I try." Lieselotte has no idea who "Herr Hauptsturmführer" is, figures he's some SS officer who's interacted enough with Kolten to have made an impression, and replies, "Well...if you forget, you won't get in trouble here, Kolten. So don't you worry if you miss a word here and there. Fredrik and I won't mind."
Over the next days, the Albrechts and Kolten get to know each other. And it's exactly as Mahogany and Gold had suggested. He's huge and incredibly strong, with a deep voice and a glowering look, having to duck his head when stepping through doorways...yet he speaks and thinks and acts much like a child, curious and naive and simple. He has a long memory for slights--he remembers every promise made and broken, and seems to have a strong anxiety of being abandoned, frequently asking them if they're going to leave and not come back, or send him away if he's bad--yet he doesn't carry grudges, and readily accepts apologies when they seem sincere. He doesn't understand written words no matter how much Lieselotte tries to teach him--the only words he appears to know are Blöd, "stupid," the word he wore for years on his chest, and his own name, Kolten, which Gold taught him when taking his black badge--and even with these, Lieselotte theorizes that it's the order and shape of the individual letters that he associates with those words, he isn't actually reading; and he has difficulty with complex subjects and long spoken words. Yet he's always eager to learn new things, and remembers most things he learns, as long as Fredrik and Lieselotte use short, simple words to explain them. He does best with routine and repetition, thus why Fredrik's rules, and chores like woodchopping, are so easy for him (he splits logs with Fredrik's ax as effortlessly as anything, indeed, chopping and carrying wood is the chore he seems to like most); change and the unexpected, he doesn't handle so well, and at such points tends to retreat until things return to normal. He does well without the need for friends other than them; he prefers playing alone, with his blocks or his picture books. He's more interested in objects than people, though he does seem to like and look up to the Albrechts.
This isn't to say there aren't hiccups. The Albrechts learn by trial and error what sort of things set off Kolten's rare but explosive and terrifying rages, and his somewhat more common blue moods. He asks Lieselotte, while sitting in his absurdly tiny bed (it sinks and creaks beneath him, and Lieselotte promises to provide him with something better, at which he insists, "It's fine, it's all right, look, I can fit," perhaps worried that she plans to get rid of him instead), if she'll read him a story like was promised. She asks what kind of stories he likes; he can only say he likes lots of pictures of pretty buildings. Doktor-Vater apparently never bothered reading him bedtime stories. Lieselotte ponders this before fetching a book by the Brothers Grimm; Kolten's never heard of them, but the lush illustrations she shows him capture his attention, especially the gingerbread house in "Hansel & Gretel." He asks all sorts of questions during the story--why are the children abandoned, why is the witch bad, how does she live in a house of gingerbread. Lieselotte has to think up answers to everything ("Magic gingerbread! She's a witch, ja?--obviously, the gingerbread is hexed!"--at which Kolten then asks, "Can you eat hexed gingerbread, is it safe?--does it taste like gingerbread?--does it do anything funny to your insides?"). She then comes to the end of the story, where Gretel shoves the witch in the oven and the children escape with the witch's riches and run back home, not even noticing at first how Kolten's questions have suddenly stopped; she closes the book and smiles at him, though her smile vanishes the instant she sees the look on his face. Kolten's mouth is quivering and his eyes are full of tears; he lets out a little whine and lowers his head into his arms. "Kolten--? What's wrong?" Lieselotte asks, confused and dismayed. To which Kolten whimpers, "Maybe she's a bad witch...but not even a bad witch deserves to be robbed and pushed in an oven. Bitte, I'll be good, don't ever let anyone push me in an oven."
Lieselotte blinks, sucks in a breath. Sure, the Grimms' fairytales have always been gruesome...but the significance of this particular one never struck her before now. Aghast at herself, she fumbles to reopen the book, flips around a bit, then exclaims, "Oh--oh! Look what happened--the pages stuck together! Silly me! That isn't the ending, there's a little bit more! Here, here, let me finish it for you." And she sits and pretends to read, making up an entirely new ending for "Hansel & Gretel," one where the children feel bad about what they did, taking their stolen goods back to the witch's house and letting her out of the oven ("She's a witch, the oven was hexed just like the rest of the house, of course it didn't burn her!"), the witch apologizing and saying she never meant to eat the children, she was just playing a game that went too far but she promises she won't do it again, all of them then returning to the woodcutter's house, the witch and the woodcutter marrying ("See, look!--she's not a bad witch after all, just lonely!") and raising the children as their own. Kolten slowly lifts his head as the story goes on, sniffling a little at first, though by the very end he's rapt; Lieselotte closes the book again with a deep breath, seeing that Kolten is finally mollified, and he obediently lies back and pulls up the covers when she tells him it's time for sleep. He does ask one more question as she gets up to leave: "So, Woodcutter and Witch and Hansel and Gretel, they are a family now?--Vater and Mutter and Kinder?" To which Lieselotte replies, "Ja...I suppose they are a family now." This news seems to satisfy him; they wish each other goodnight, and she shuts the door.
On another occasion, Lieselotte asks Kolten if she can sit and watch him play with his blocks; he consents, and she marvels over the huge, elaborate building he's created. The Albrechts never cease to be amazed by his ability with the blocks, the palaces and complexes and castles he constructs; he dedicates hours of single-minded attention to their construction, then carefully takes them apart when he's done, to start another. When shown pictures and layouts of buildings from books, he can replicate them perfectly, if he has the right blocks; he gets a bit fussy if he doesn't, so Fredrik makes a point of shaping and smoothing all the stray bits of wood from the chopping, and adds them to Kolten's collection. As Lieselotte watches him build this day, she notices an unfinished section missing its keystone; assuming it's in danger of falling apart (Kolten erupts in a bawling tantrum if one of his creations collapses before it's done, and takes hours to settle down again), she reaches out for the block in question. Then gasps and jerks back--quick as lightning, Kolten's hand darts out and grabs the keystone, and he clasps it to his chest, wailing, "NEIN! MINE!" He holds the block away like a jealous parent protecting its child and continues to yell, "No one but he or I can place it! No one else! My keystone! No one else!" It takes quite a long time for Lieselotte--and then Fredrik, who comes running at Kolten's yelling--to calm him down, Lieselotte apologizing profusely and promising not to touch the block again. Then, after Kolten at last stops yelling and relaxes somewhat, his face crumples up and he starts sobbing. "Only he or I can place it," he wails, and "He said he'd come to see me"--and he cries even harder as he clutches the block. The Albrechts realize he's upset not so much about the block anymore, as about whoever is allowed to handle it--they assume Doktor-Vater--and aren't sure how to allay his obvious distress. Fredrik finally coaxes him into helping him chop wood, and Kolten reluctantly sets down the keystone--only after Lieselotte vows not to touch it again--and follows him out, rubbing at his eyes and snuffling. His mood returns to normal by bedtime, though he does beg Lieselotte, before she wishes him goodnight, not to send him away to the place with the chimneys--"I promise I'll be good, I promise I'll try harder." She manages to reassure him, though she does tearfully confide in her husband afterward, "That poor boy...always thinking everyone will turn him away! I don't know how to convince him. He must have gone through so much. The poor thing."
Despite Kolten's fragile moods and occasionally destructive outbursts (he apologizes after each one, begging not to be sent away), the Albrechts learn how to handle him quite well. He never calls them Vater or Mutter (Mahogany, on a visit, suggests that he doesn't really understand the concept of parents--he was raised by the state, and Doktor-Vater is Dr. C, the one behind Project Doomsday, who apparently has the odd habit of requesting all his test subjects to call him Doktor-Vater--he's not Kolten's actual father after all), but he grows to trust them, so much so that Lieselotte shows him a photograph of their son and tells Kolten about him. "He...was like me?" Kolten murmurs; "I did not think anyone was like me." He stares at the photo for a long while. Lieselotte afterward comes across a sketch Kolten made on one of his drawing pads; the lifelike appearance of her son is in stark contrast with Kolten's childish drawings of other things. The Trench Rats check in from time to time, and Kolten adjusts to his new life, which is simple and uneventful and unchanging, the very things he needs to thrive. His tantrums become fewer, he learns some new skills, but most of all, he feels useful; in Dr. C's lab, he says his only use was as a test subject, that otherwise, he was worthless. He says this with such matter-of-factness that Lieselotte's heart hurts...but it helps knowing that he's safe, in a much better place, now.
Late in the war, the Trench Rats contact the Albrechts with news, and a strange request. They've raided Project Doomsday headquarters, finding both other captives/test subjects--including Trench Rats Corporal Drake and LC Teal--as well as taking two captives of their own: project head Dr. C, whose real name is Dietmar Kammler, and Hauptsturmführer, or Captain, Otto Himmel, who apparently oversees the project to ensure that it continues getting funding. Dr. C is killed by Teal while being taken into custody; Himmel, as a high-value captive, is placed in a cell under strict supervision. The Albrechts wonder why the Rats are telling them this; the odd request, it turns out, is because of Himmel, and relates to Kolten. Himmel at first shows no inclination to cooperate with the Trench Rats' own request for information, until he hears someone mention Kolten. He says he'll hand over all the information he has on Project Doomsday--and as overseer, it's quite a lot--for just one thing: A visit to Kolten. He doesn't elaborate, and refuses to say anything else unless they grant this request, then stubbornly falls silent. The Trench Rats debate this for a bit before deciding to grant the request--Himmel will be restrained and accompanied the entire time, surely it can't hurt?--but only if the Albrechts agree. Fredrik and Lieselotte ponder the request; Lieselotte, especially, is uneasy: "What interest does this man have in Kolten, why would he possibly want to see him?--does he want to take him back to the project?" Fredrik reminds her that the Rats insist Project Doomsday is done for good with Kammler's death, and Himmel is a prisoner of war--there's nowhere for Kolten to return to. He suggests they just grant the request and get it over with. Lieselotte finally agrees; the Albrechts give the Rats their answer, and anxiously await their arrival.
The Trench Rats arrive like the first time, in a military truck, and pull someone out of the back--a blindfolded, shackled man in a dusty, bloodstained SS uniform. They pull his blindfold down and he blinks the glare out of his eyes, peering around, his stare falling on the big farmhouse. He glances at the Albrechts--Fredrik draws himself up, trying to look imposing, while Lieselotte cowers a little--and something odd happens--the SS officer lowers his head and draws in on himself a bit. Lieselotte gets a strange feeling she can't explain. A Trench Rat nudges him forward and they make their way to the porch. "Come in," Fredrik says shortly, and they all go inside.
"Kolten's in the sitting room," Fredrik says, "let me fetch him," and he heads up the hall. The group can hear him call out, "Kolten--? Kolten...a visitor to see you." Himmel's expression changes--a mixture of curiosity, hope, anxiety--again, it reminds Lieselotte of something she can't place. Fredrik returns alone, saying, "He's with his blocks...he might get upset if I try to push." To which Himmel promptly responds, "May--may I go in and see? I promise I won't bother him." Fredrik hesitates, then steps aside. The Rats escort Himmel to the doorway and he peers within. His face immediately lights up when he sees Kolten absorbed in assembling a castle; he takes a step, then halts, as Gold Rat pauses to undo his shackles. "Don't try anything," he says under his breath, and steps aside so Himmel can enter.
The Trench Rats and the Albrechts look on as Himmel hesitantly approaches Kolten's table; he pauses to cast the towering castle an admiring look, then looks at Kolten. Kolten doesn't acknowledge him, just keeps building. Himmel sits down across from him and watches him for a while, not speaking. He looks at the loose blocks still scattered across the table before his stare focuses on one in particular--Lieselotte recognizes the keystone immediately--and before she can speak, Himmel reaches for the keystone and puts it in place.
Lieselotte and Fredrik gasp and flinch back, Lieselotte's hands going up to her mouth; Gold glances at them with a puzzled frown. Kolten's hand freezes placing a block, and he stares at the keystone for a beat, then his eyes shift to Himmel. Himmel says softly, "Hallo, Kolten." There's a very long pause.
Kolten: *pause* *sullenly* "You said you would come to see me."
Himmel: *resigned* "I know."
Kolten: "You didn't. I waited for you, but you didn't."
Himmel: "I know, Kolten. I'm so sorry."
Kolten: "Why didn't you come...?" *lowers head* "Did...did you not want to see me...?"
Himmel: "Nein, Kolten, that's not it at all, I wanted to see you, I would have if I could have. But I didn't know where you were. And...I knew that wherever they took you, it had to be safer than where you were before."
Kolten: "With Doktor-Vater...?"
Himmel: "Ja, with him. Have they treated you well here...?"
Kolten: "Herr and Frau Albrecht treat me all right. They give me chores, but not too hard, and books to look at, and blocks to build with, and a sweet sometimes when I'm good. They aren't you, though."
Himmel: "I know. Are you happy here?"
Kolten: "I guess I am. It's nice here, they don't yell at me, not even when I'm bad...they aren't you, though."
Himmel: "I know, Kolten...I'm sorry I didn't keep my promise. But I'm here now."
Kolten: "Does...does this mean I am going back to Doktor-Vater, now...?"
Himmel: "Nein. Doktor-Vater is gone. The project is over."
Kolten: "He's gone...?"
Himmel: *nods* "You're not going back there."
Kolten: *long pause* *uncertainly* "Then...does this mean, I am going with Hauptsturmführer-Vater, now...?"
Himmel sits bolt upright. Fredrik and Lieselotte glance at each other, stunned, as the Trench Rats do the same. Himmel looks just as surprised as the rest of them; he blinks and stammers.
Himmel: "You...you know...?"
Kolten: *shrugs* "I have always known."
Himmel: "But...how? They said at the clinic I couldn't tell you, it would confuse you..."
Kolten: "I remember you. From before, when I was little. I remember the woman too, and Doktor-Vater."
Himmel: "But...you never called me...how do you know who I am?"
Kolten: "I did not know what to call you. In the clinic though, they taught us about family. About Vater and Mutter and Kinder. I asked if I had a Vater or Mutter and they said everyone does so I asked where mine were but they wouldn't say. But when they taught us, they said that a Vater and Mutter love their Kinder..." *looks upward & recites slowly* "...un-con-di-tion-al-ly. That means no matter what." *looks at Himmel* "That's how I knew. You were the only one who loved me un-con-di-tion-al-ly."
Himmel: *tears in eyes* "That's right, Kolten."
Kolten: "Do I go home with you, now? Herr and Frau Albrecht are nice, but I want to go with you."
Himmel: "I'm sorry. You can't come with me right now."
Kolten: "Do you not want me to...?"
Himmel: "Nein, Kolten, that's not it at all. I want you with me more than anything. But I have nowhere to bring you. And you can't come with me where I'm going."
Kolten: "Why not...?"
Himmel: "I've done some bad things...and now I have to go and take responsibility for what I've done. You understand responsibility...?"
Kolten: "Ja, I understand. When I get mad and break something, I take re-spon-si-bil-i-ty."
Himmel: "That's right, Kolten."
Kolten: "You broke something?"
Himmel: *pained look* "That's right. And now I have to take responsibility. You can't come with me, you have to stay here, if the Albrechts will keep you."
Kolten: "Are you going to come back...?"
Himmel: "I don't know, Kolten. But if I can, I will. I'll do everything I can to come back here."
Kolten: "You promise...?"
Himmel: "I promise. I know my promises mean little, now, but I mean it. If I can come back to you, I will."
Kolten: *pause* "You are here now...I believe you."
Himmel and Kolten share a tearful goodbye--Himmel assures Kolten he loves him and Kolten has never disappointed him, at which Kolten surprises him with a hug--and Himmel then returns to the Trench Rats, holding up his arms to be cuffed again. "Danke," he murmurs as they do so, and Lieselotte remembers the time Kolten said, "Herr Hauptsturmführer taught me you always say 'danke' to be polite. Sometimes I forget, but I try." She finally understands: Kolten's father had been teaching him manners. How to be kind. They've been separated most of their lives, but they do remember and love each other.
Himmel is taken back into Trench Rat custody, and provides the information he promised. Dr. Kammler was his brother-in-law--his late wife Dagmar's brother--who attempted to have him killed, so he could take custody of Kolten for use in Project Doomsday. For this reason, when Kolten was liberated by the Trench Rats, Himmel didn't try to get him back, knowing he would be safer with them. Kolten's absence still devastated him, however. He outlines his activities as overseer of the project his own son was in, and these include the execution of a Trench Rat named Corporal Anna Julian. This incident, so abrupt and out of character, has never been explained before now; Himmel claims Julian was in fact a spy working for the Waffen-SS, meaning he killed someone who was technically on his own side. Kolten had repeated, verbatim, comments and conversations he'd overheard Julian make, in which she made it clear she not only embraced Nazi ideals, but was looking to have Kolten struck from the project as useless and, presumably, killed. Himmel did the only thing he could think of to save his son without blowing his own cover--he'd been furtively sabotaging the project from the inside ever since Kammler's attempt on his life--and eliminated the threat. He's been racked with guilt ever since--the only reason he joined the SS was to prevent Kolten from being euthanized--but vows that if he had it to do again, he would. "No one was looking out for my son but me," he says. "I would do anything to keep him safe. Anything."
Shortly after the war ends, Himmel is brought before a military tribunal. Fredrik attends the public event to see for himself what sort of person Kolten's father is. He, and from the sound of it some others in the gallery who've also known Himmel at various points in life, expect some sort of extreme to emerge--either a saint who can do no evil, or a monster who can murder without a second thought. All of them are proven wrong. Himmel is simply a flawed father who chose to do something awful to protect his family. While he does defend his actions, he doesn't protest receiving whatever punishment he's given. His aid to the Trench Rats is taken into account--he massively enhanced their knowledge of Project Doomsday, and pointed them out to what SS records still exist, which may help reunite survivors of the camps--and the verdict is reached; he's found guilty of belonging to a criminal organization, yet is cleared of the charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity. While the tribunal rebukes him for the extrajudicial killing of Corporal Julian, they reviewed enough evidence and similar testimonials--including Kolten's--to show that it's highly likely her death spared some lives. He's stripped of his SS and military ranks and honors, has his weapons confiscated, and is let go. Gold Rat helps him retrieve what few of his belongings he wishes to take with him, and when asked where he'd like to go, Himmel quietly replies, "The Albrechts' farm, bitte."
Fredrik has since returned home to fill Lieselotte in on things. They both think they couldn't possibly kill someone even for the greater good, yet when they think of killing someone to protect their son, they find they aren't so sure. They've spent all of Kolten's time here assuming his absent father must have been a despicable person, to just let his son go like that...but the truth is much murkier. Based on Himmel's testimony, he did everything he could for Kolten, including things that went against his very nature--even his refusal to come fetch Kolten back, thus breaking his promise, was motivated by his desire to keep him safe. "That's love," Lieselotte says, simply, and they both look toward Kolten, playing with his blocks.
A military truck arrives. The Albrechts know who it is before anyone even exits. Himmel and Gold get out, Gold carrying the box with Himmel's belongings, and approach the porch. Lieselotte opens the door before Himmel can knock, and to his surprise, hugs him. She leads them inside, calling for Kolten. He appears in the doorway, head ducked; Himmel's face lights up and he raises his own head just like before, and Lieselotte finally realizes what it was she saw in Himmel's lowered head and drawn-in posture when he last visited: He'd looked exactly like Kolten, when Kolten first came to stay with them. "Hallo, Kolten," Himmel greets him, and Kolten wraps his arms around him, dwarfing his father.
Himmel stays with Kolten and the Albrechts throughout the evening. He asks about the home some distance away, noticing no smoke coming from its chimney; they confirm that it's abandoned. Himmel decides that he'll stay in the abandoned house for now, while Kolten continues living with the Albrechts; they've grown quite fond of him, and have much more to offer him than Himmel currently does, which is basically the shirt on his back. The Albrechts (and Kolten) try to convince him to stay with them as well, but he seems too ill at ease to do so; after nightfall he departs, but promises Kolten he'll return in the morning. And he does, taking breakfast with them, watching Kolten do his chores, joining him as he plays with his blocks, reading to him from a picture book. He heads back to the abandoned house at night. This remains the situation for a while, as Himmel struggles through a long deep winter and an equally deep depression, eventually being drawn out of it by the intercession of some old acquaintances from the war. They arrive in the spring to fix up the house, and Kolten goes to stay with his father--and Himmel's companion Johanna Wolfstein, sister of one of Kolten's fellow test subjects--though he does return to the Albrechts' house every day for chores, and to get sweets and new blocks from "Aunt and Uncle."
Over time, Himmel adopts a handful of children from orphanages, and his acquaintances bring their children to visit, and the Albrechts welcome them as guests, also. Kolten, older and much bigger than they are, is a doting and protective playmate, making sure they never get hurt. The air, previously so still following the loss of the Albrechts' son, fills with childish shouts and laughter. Lieselotte and Fredrik take to sitting out on their porch on warm days, listening to the sounds and smiling wistfully, that at least one parent and child have a happy ending.
[Lieselotte Albrecht 2024 [‎Friday, ‎April ‎19, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:06 AM]]
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