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erospandemos · 2 months

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Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

#Kpop #Kpop fluff #newjeans hanni #Newjeans #Danielle #newjeans danielle #Danielle fluff

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tugoslovenka · 8 months

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Flowers & Honey

I have returned to tumblr after about 8-9 years. I have no idea what's going on, but I do know that Halsin is a man that needs more smut written about him.

Here's my attempt.

I also post on ao3, if you would be so kind to visit!

She could not tear her eyes away. Not since their encounter in the grimy, neglected dungeons of the Temple of Sel��ne that is.

When they reached the cage, her Potion of Animal Speaking had worn off, which is also when she found herself face-to-face with a ferocious brown bear that had almost singlehandedly dispatched a group of goblins on watch duty.

Edith had certainly not anticipated that the beast would transform into a tall, muscular, and, well, rather handsome elf after the battle had ended. He introduced himself as Halsin, the First Druid of the Emerald Grove — and was certainly the largest elf she had ever laid her eyes on.

From that moment in the goblin camp to her current absentminded lip chewing while sat on a rickety stool in a long-forgotten inn in the depths of the Shadowlands, Edith was fairly certain she had spent a significant portion of the past few days unabashedly staring at the man's backside.

He had been polite even after she helped him solve a dispute between the Tieflings and the Druids in the Grove. Even after he had spotted some of her other companions rushing into the woods with partners of their choosing. Even after she mustered the courage to subtly invite him as well.

Too polite for her liking.

Edith's temper ran hot most days, but there was something about his gentle demeanor, his knack for resolving conflicts, his ability to discern people's intentions, and his overall kind-hearted nature that ignited a fiery passion within her, turning that spark into a full-blown wildfire.

That rang especially true after an incredibly difficult encounter with the cursed creatures and Shadows a little ways away from Last Night Inn - where she was almost certain she was going to lose him were it not for some of Shadowheart’s clerical abilities.

A few days had passed since then, and Halsin was reunited with Thaniel’s complete self. Edith still couldn't decipher some of his riddles or understand how this young boy would aid them in their battle against Thorm. She did however know not to ask too many questions on this journey, since it had gone well beyond strange.

Halsin had his back turned to her, focused on mending the broken wooden floor of the inn. They were alone in the room, bathed in the soft glow of a lantern in the corner where she perched. True to form, he declined her offer to help, since, as he noted, she had already done a world of favors to him and the others.

“Do you always study people, Edith?”

Edith’s concentration was broken momentarily when he spoke. She felt her breath hitch in her throat. Could he be hearing her thoughts? There were a couple of Potions of Mind Reading left around the place and she sincerely hoped he didn’t drink one in the past hour.

She cleared her throat and gently let herself stand on two feet. “What do you mean?”She could hear a soft chuckle come from him. “You have been observing my movements for quite some time now.” Halsin said. She tried to ascertain if he was annoyed or offended by the notion, but she couldn’t sense any irritation in his voice.

She supposed this was as good as time as any.

With a quiet prayer to all the Gods, Devils and Demons in the Forgotten Realms, she crossed her arms. “And what of it?” she challenged, a smirk forming on her lips.

Halsin turned to her in that instant, still kneeling on the floor. Even at this height, his head could probably reach the tops of her chest.

“I may be a few centuries your elder, but I am not ignorant of people’s advances. You certainly do not hide your desire for me.” he spoke in a low tone, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Edith involuntarily laughed at his comment. “Well, you’ve also made it quite clear that you want nothing to do with my advances, which is why, I study from afar.” she retorted in response.

“I have never denied your advances, sweet Baldurian. The only time you have sought my companionship was in a very intoxicated state, and I did not wish for you to have any regrets going forward.” he explained, rising to his feet in the process.

His tall frame overshadowed hers. She was not the smallest human, but she was also acutely aware of the size difference between them. Her head barely reached his ribcage. She reckoned she could fit two of her frames into one of his.

“Maybe I needed some liquid courage to get me going.” she murmured, trying her best to remain in control while she felt a pool of heat form in her belly.

“Aye, but I would have preferred you in a sobered state, where we can explore each other to our heart’s content.”

Edith felt as though time had stopped upon hearing that. She reached behind her back to pinch at her skin, making sure she hasn’t been put to sleep. Before she could respond though, Halsin slowly made his way to her until she could feel his breath graze her face.

They had never been that close before. Not even during her embarrassing attempt at trying to seduce him had she smelled his scent. Wood, with a hint of sweat and a plant she could not recognize. She saw a small bead of sweat run down his forehead until it reached his cheek.

Halsin's hand extended, hovering just before her face. "Have I misunderstood your intentions, little flower?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly.

Little flower. It was a nickname he had given her on account of her flower picking. Having been born and raised in the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate, lush gardens and vibrant plants were not a sight she was familiar with, hence her need to collect some for her notebooks along the way.

"No," she replied, though she couldn't help but feel a pang of uncertainty as her senses overcame her. "I... We're not— There are people around."

Halsin smiled in response. His outstretched hand lowered until he held hers, which felt small and delicate in comparison. His gaze moved upwards to the ceiling, where Edith knew there was a private bath for the inn's residents to wash away the day's grime.

Without saying any other word, he began making his way through the hallways, keeping her close by while Edith tried to process what was happening. This man was good at hiding his intentions and feelings, and she was good at, well, not, but even she couldn’t help but be taken by his grace and intimidating presence.

Usually, being the loudmouth that she was, she would have opted to respond with a sly comment or attempt a few witty comebacks. However, not a word escaped her lips as her legs seemed to move on their own, following Halsin up to the second floor of the tavern, where a few Harpers were on patrol.

By the time Edith had thought of a response to give him, they were both already in the small, makeshift storage room that had one wooden bath in the center of it. The only light was the translucent glow from Isobel’s protective spell, which also illuminated Halsin’s large body as he began taking his garments off.

Edith stood there, suddenly feeling insecure as she wrapped her hands around herself. Halsin didn’t pay her any attention for the time being, ensuring to pour an adequate amount of water into the bath and tempering a metal basin with the Heat Metal spell as he mixed both thoroughly.

Once he was satisfied with the temperature, he turned his body towards hers. Her eyes immediately fixated themselves on his lower half, widening slightly once she saw his member. He was quite well-endowed, even when not standing at full attention.

Seemingly taking note of her nervousness, Halsin outstretched his hand, smiling warmly as he did so. “I realize those who do not spend their time in the wilderness are not as comfortable being in the nude, but you should not be afraid of your own body, little flower. The contours of your form are a tapestry of nature’s wonders - a mosaic of petals and blooms, an ode to the beauty of this world.”

Gods damn this man and his mouth.

Edith nodded, only being able to muster an “okay” in response. Or maybe an incoherent mumble. She wasn’t entirely too sure.

Halsin raised her hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss there before stepping into the bath. He stood waiting, a small smile playing on his lips once he saw Edith begin to step out of her garments, and then her smallclothes. She lightly grasped his hand as she carefully got into the tub.

The water was not too cold nor too hot, just perfect enough to calm the goosebumps on her skin as she lowered herself. Halsin had some difficulty in managing the manouver, scooting a few times until he finally found the right position. His knees were poking out of the water and on either side of Edith’s arms.

It was honestly a shock they had both managed to fit and not break or overflow the whole bath.

Halsin reached for some soap with one hand, while the other took hold of her hair. “Tell me, little flower.” he began massaging her scalp, making sure to dip the bar into the water before squeezing some of the soapy water onto her curls. “What is it you require of me?”

“Mmm,” Edith murmured as she slumped back onto Halsin’s chest. “Where do I start?”

Halsin leaned in until his lips found the crook of her neck. “Your efforts in helping my cause have gone above and beyond what I had expected. It is only right of me to return the favor in whatever manner you see fit.”

Edith responded with a hum. In truth, she did not anticipate any of this tonight, although she had experienced countless nights fantasizing about something similar. It always began with his fingers. Something about them, meaty and large, roaming their way across her body made her insides tingle.

She heard the sound of something small falling into the water. A beat later, his other arm wrapped itself around her belly.

So much for the bath, she thought.

“In truth, I too have desired you for quite some time now.” Halsin confessed, gently arranging a row of kisses from the crook of her neck to her shoulder blade, stopping momentarily before moving her hair so that he could reach the other side. “I was just hoping, and maybe praying to the Oakfather, that you would make an advance soon.”

“Have you, now?” Edith giggled, closing her eyes so that she could fully appreciate his affection. A moment later, the hand on her stomach reached up until she felt her nipple being tweaked, grazed over and gently pulled.

“That sound,” Halsin growled, moving his head forward until she could see his gaze from the corner of her eyes. “Do not make it unless you wish for me to lose control.”

“Halsin, that is precisely what I was hoping would happen for the past few—”

Edith gasped when she felt his fingers quickly retract from her nipples and nestle themselves between her legs. He traced the lines of her lips teasingly, and it wasn’t long before he stopped his middle finger on her clit, gently rubbing it.

It enticed a surprised moan from Edith. “Halsin…”

“How I have longed to hear you sing for me, little flower.” he confessed, keeping a slow and steady rhythm on her clit while she continued to whimper. Edith was certain everyone in the tavern could hear her noises, but she chose not to engage her current mind with future worries.

Her hips began to unconsciously grind against his fingers as she attempted to help guide him to more of her needs. “I don’t think you realize how much I have— how much I’ve— needed this. It’s not going to take much— much to make me come.” Edith moaned, turning her head so that it was resting between his neck and shoulder blade.

His looked at her. “Your eyes, my heart. They are glazed like the morning mists.” he said huskily before leaning to kiss her deeply. It was one way to swallow out her moans, because her tongue soon reached out to capture his.

The ministrations didn’t take long to get her close to the edge. What wasn’t exactly helpful was his pace, steady and slow, torturously so, but with enough pressure that she felt her hips buckle at the finger that stroked her clit. Halsin seemed to notice and switched his middle finger with this thumb, while his hand moved lower to reach her opening.

The pleasure she thought was experiencing only heightened when she felt not one but two fingers enter her gently. Edith had spent a decent amount of time getting herself off in a similar fashion, but nothing could compare to his thick digits pumping inside her — curling to the hilt as she cried out in surprise.

“You are so sensitive, little flower.” he mused, increasing the pace of his fingers while doing so. “Like a primrose, or maybe even a poppy. Do you think I could fit another finger in?”

Edith panted in response, feeling completely distracted at his words and movements. All she could focus on for the time being was the toe-curling pleasure he gave her. “Yes. Yes, please, Halsin. I need… I need—“

Halsin watched her closely, giving her temple a kiss as he moved a third finger between her legs. “You’re doing well. I can smell your release coming.”

She couldn’t stop the whine that escaped her lips once three fingers well well and truly nestled between her legs. It was almost painful, had it not been for her muscles being stimulated for some time. Her chore ached angrily and his words only helped spur on the pleasure.

Halsin groaned when he felt her squeeze his fingers, his lips moving to nip at her neck hungrily. “I need your release. Give yourself to me.”

She did not need to be told any more encouragement to let go. She felt his free hand grip onto her hips to push them down, since between her grinding and squirming, it must have seemed like she was going to escape the bath altogether. With a cry of pleasure, she felt herself shudder as one strong pulse of pleasure followed the next, a well and true release overcoming her body.

Halsin was patiently waiting for her to finish. One final ripple jolted her hips momentarily before she fully relaxed, almost sinking into the water in the process. It was only him submerging himself lower that helped feather her fall as she breathed heavily from the come down.

“Your body seems to respond well to my touch.” he grinned, reaching a hand to her hair so as to gently run his fingers through it. She was still panting heavily, her arms barely being able to find the sides of the tub to pull herself up. It exposed much of her lower back, where a lot of her scars were.

“You carry many marks for someone so fragile, little Baldurian.” he mused, clearly studying her back. Edith let out a huff in response, turning around to face him. The tub was not nearly big enough to hold both of them comfortably, which is why she settled herself on his thick thighs instead.

“And you carry quite the mouth for someone so ancient.” her hands found themselves wrapped around his neck as she closed the distance between them, ultimately sitting on his member with a swift glide. She hadn’t noticed it before, being preoccupied with his touch, but it was somehow larger and thicker than she had anticipated.

“I never quite realized how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the Grove.” Halsin let his gaze drop for a moment, looking out into the distance, somewhere far away. “I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you.”

Edith was taken aback at the sudden change of mood. She hadn’t quite anticipated his sincerity in this state, although still deeply appreciated his nurturing nature despite what had just occurred.

“You’re welcome.” was all she could muster.

She could hear him chuckle. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you are. But I do.”

Edith responded by leaning in to kiss him. She had barely remembered the first time they did it, the intensity of their coupling making her forget her manners and not even allow him more than a tongue battle before he was three fingers deep inside of her.

His lips were surprisingly soft. For someone whose voice, hands and general posture were as rough as stone, the velvet on his lips was a stark contrast. She hadn’t noticed it before, but took her time in exploring his mouth. Halsin was a good kisser, letting her take the lead while his hands stayed firmly on her waist.

Her hands grabbed at his hair, now party wet from the ears down, as she gently pulled. All she longed for was to get as close as possible. This exact fantasy she had mused about many nights before, and she was determined to remember every detail of this encounter now that the initial shock had worn off.

She noted the hardness between her legs, semi-floating and partly stuck in place by her own body. Her legs were being tickled by the hair on his thighs, and she noted his muscles squeezing with every other beat. His chest was firm, as if it was made from chizeled rock, and her nipples occasionally grazed over his in the heat of the kiss. His hands were firm, holding onto her sides while she ever so slightly ground her bottom half against his.

He was trying to gain control of something. She sensed it in the kiss, too. The way his tongue suddenly fought hers, teeth occasionally knocking hers, a bite or two coming down on her lower lip.

“Halsin, are you alright?”

His eyes snapped open. The familiar chestnut brown was replaced by a yellow glow, an almost empty stare into her own. His breathing was heavier, more ragged. He was trying to focus.

“I apologize, I am— I believe nature calls to me in more ways than I had anticipated.” he said, blinking a few times before she saw the gold from his eyes transform back into a dark brown. “I am but a bear, in way.”

Edith smiled. “All this time and you’re still battling your Wildshape?”

“I have lived… a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” he said. “And you, little flower, are not helping my affliction in the slightest.”

“Affliction?” Edith retorted, crossing her arms in return. “Am I the cause of your suffering, now?”

Halsin’s grip on her waist loosened. “Forgive me, I did not mean to cause offense. I simply mean a different kind of suffering, one that—“

Edith interrupted his rambles with another kiss. She bit her lip once pulled away. “I know, old man.” she giggled in response.

That fierce grip took her by the hips this time, slamming her body down on top of his member. Halsin growled in response, and she could see those glowing eyes return. “I asked you not to make that sound.” he reminded her, his teeth finding their mark on the side of her neck.

“I’m sorry.” she gasped, half-joking as she felt his mouth start to suck at the very spot between her ear and throat. “I didn’t realize my laugh would poke the bear that easily.”

One of his hands left her hips and she soon felt it begin circling her clit instead. Edith’s hand quickly grabbed a hold of Halsin’s head, pushing him deeper into her skin at the unanticipated touch. “Fuck, Halsin.”

“This bear pokes many areas.” Halsin murmured in her skin, moving his head down until he reached her breasts. Taking one into his mouth, he suckled at the nipple until she hissed at the sudden pain of his sharp teeth. His lips moved away with a popping sound as he leaned his forehead against hers. “So I ask you again, to not invite it. Not unless you desire it in full, that is.”

Edith pondered for a moment. What would that feel like? Being taken by a beast, with no regard for any customs or strange looks? Would it feel strange or would it give her a pleasure she had never felt before? Would she be interested in exploring more of his Wildshape, maybe have a taste of different—

She must have been quiet for long, because Halsin’s praise broke the silence in the room. “My heart, my little flower,” he repeated the words over and over as his lips found their way on her breasts, her neck, her lips, anywhere that wasn’t occupied by his hands.

Desire overtook her. His words, his touch, his lips, all making her core heat up again. His member had to have been hurting by now, since she had barely paid any attention to it. If only she could find some control again and not behave like some wanton, mindless harlot.

“Halsin, I need you to fuck me.” she said breathlessly.

“Yes, my heart. As you wish.” he signed wistfully, staring down at her lips with hunger. It didn’t take long for his large hands to start digging into her soft flesh, positioning her so that she was placed along the length of his cock.

Edith reached down to touch it for the first time. The sound that Halsin let out was more rewarding than any loot at the end of a long day. It was as melodic as a harmony of birds, as sweet as the tarts in the inn — especially when his head rolled back in the process.

Her hand gently began dragging his foreskin down, making sure to keep a watchful eye of his face. She noted his sharp intake of breath and hissing when she touched the tip, which she made a mental note of to occasionally do. Her other hand had reached between her legs to keep herself occupied, since the sight alone was not enough to give her release.

Halsin seemed to notice the movements and raised his head to look at her. “I want to see you.” he demanded.

In a moment’s notice, he had her bum between his hands and raised to his feet. In another, she felt the wooden floor of the tavern as she was dropped on the boards with Halsin on top of her. Both of them were covered in water and leftover soap, panting as they looked each other in the eyes.

“Touch yourself, little flower.” he commanded, resting his body weight on one elbow while his free hand moved between his legs to grab a hold of his member.

Edith didn’t need to be told twice before her hand moved on her clit. With an index and middle finger, she began circling them around the sensitive skin while her gaze fixated on Halsin’s movements. He was doing his best to match her, although she could tell he was nearing his release.

She did not want his spend on the floorboards. She wanted it inside her.

“Halsin,” she whimpered needily. “Please fuck me.”

“I must rest, for I will not be able to contain myself.” he responded quickly, his hand massaging his cock and his eyes not leaving her own while he did so. “I will not leave your request unattended, I gave you my word.”

Edith could only moan in response. She could see the thick vein on the side of his cock, smell the musk coming from his body as her rhythmically stroked himself, almost taste the pre-come that was dripping ever so slightly from his head.

That was when she felt herself release again. Her hand paused its movement while an earth-shattering orgasm overtook her body. She bit her lip, close to bleeding, to stop herself from screaming out in pleasure. All the while, Halsin was fixated on her. His hand was no longer rubbing in a pattern, but almost forcefully pulling at his skin.

And then he stopped.

It took all the willpower he must have had to not drop his entire body on her. Rather, both elbows hit the side of her face as he almost howled in frustration. In a few short breaths, he turned his head so that it was facing hers. “I… I believe the urge has abandoned me, for now.”

Edith’s hand moved from her cunt to his lips, where she gently parted them so that he could taste her. “Not for long, I hope.” she replied, moving her other hand in his hair to stroke it.

Halsin sucked on her fingers like a needy babe. He moaned while doing so, letting his tongue go over each digit carefully. “As sweet as you smell, my nectar-filled lily,” he hummed.

Edith made a sound of disapproval in response. “I prefer lavender, actually.”

“I will roam the Feywild until the end of my days to bring you the last lavenders in this existence and beyond just to relive this very moment again.” he said once he finished working on her fingers, leaning his head down to give her a passionate kiss.

“Well, I hope that’s not it, Archdruid.” she stifled a giggle, knowing it was apparently what set him off in the first place.

As if on command, his lips moved down her body until he reached her lower belly. She couldn’t tell if it was his eagerness of the velvet in his voice, but she could’ve sworn she felt a gush between her legs. It was too simple for him to get her body going, as if it betrayed her entirely.

Edith gasped once she felt the first swipe of his tongue against her lips. She didn’t bother contemplating why he was so good at it, seeing as he had three centuries to practice. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, lapping hungrily like an animal starved, with growls leaving his throat as he did so.

“I once told you I’ve something of a sweet tooth and that honey was my favorite taste.” he said in between licks. “I was wrong. You are my favorite going forward.”

She whimpered and moaned, arching her hips towards him in need. One of his hands moved up until it reached her breasts, flicking one nipple back and forth. His tongue was circling her clit, then pressing against her lips, before adventuring across her entire cunt, so delicately, as if he hadn’t drunk in months.

Looking down, Edith saw his face. It was covered in her. It didn’t take much before she was sparkling with need. Her heels dug into his shoulders and she, once again, came with a loud, and very long moan. She felt her legs starting to shake, but he did not stop. He devoured her entirely, until her clit could no longer take the sensitivity. Her hand reached out to push on his forehead until he looked back at her, her juices dripping from his chin.

“I do believe I may just pass out if you continue this.” she uttered, just barely being able to catch her breath. He climbed atop her body, placing both palms against her head before giving her a soft kiss.

The unconscious grind against her folds was enough to tell her that he was ready to proceed. There were a few words he muttered, not loud enough for her to hear, but she was certain it was a prayer to Silvanus, one of protection or wisdom.

“May I?” he asked, smoothing the sweaty hair out of her face.

Edith bit her lip and nodded in response, spreading her legs in the process. Halsin settled his weight between her legs, and soon enough, grabbed a hold of his hard member. She gasped for air when she felt the tip of his cock press against her.

It had been quite a while since she was with anyone so… blessed. She would even wager he was the largest she had ever been with. It made her nervous, which he seemed to pick up on.

“My heart, if there is anything that will make you uncomfortable, you will let me know of it?” he whispered, kissing her deeply while sliding his head up and down her core. Edith nodded once again, opening her eyes to give him a silent approval.

She immediately let out a loud mewl when he pushed in, the initial stretch being so intense since she did not anticipate it. Her hands immediately grabbed a hold of his shoulders, squeezing down while he stood in place, being careful not to push too hard.

“Well, I can safely say I did not expect you to be big everywhere.” she joked while gasping, allowing herself to accommodate his size.

He watched for her reactions cautiously, making sure to only push further when she felt comfortable enough to say so. By the look on his face, she could tell that Halsin was holding back. The veins protruding from his arms, the shaking muscles on his thighs, the concentration on his face — all too careful.

The sensations overwhelmed her the more he moved. At some point, she wondered if he would ever stop coming. Thanks to his previous work however, she was still so incredibly slick that it was only mild resistance that he was met with. Her heels continued to dig into his back, partly from the pressure and the incoming pleasure.

She had often wondered what people meant when they craved the feeling of being full. Edith thought she finally understood. Each part of her seemed to be completed with his throbbing member, his girth stretching her to impossibility while her cunt attempted to swallow him entirely.

Halsin pressed hungry kisses on her lips, then her neck, before finally stoping at her breasts. “My heart, may I please move?” he sighed in desperation, hanging his head low while every bit of him seemed to vibrate.

“Please.”

He did not need to be told twice.

He began to slowly pull out, which made Edith wince. Then whimper. Then moan. Then groan. As slowly as he was inside, it felt as though he was twice as fast in pulling out. A feeling of emptiness overwhelmed her, and she could feel her own juices dripping down her thighs as he did so.

“Eager, are we?” Halsin cooed, stopping just his head was pressed against her entrance.

“Shut up and fuck me, bear.” Edith finally snapped, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.

“As the lady requires.”

His pace picked up then. Not enough to give her discomfort, but enough where he was no longer trying to be cautious in his movements. The loud groans that followed reverberated through his chest, and Edith could swear she could hear a bear growl in the midst of it.

She on the other hand, couldn’t explain how she was feeling. It was as if he was hitting new spots the more times he thrust inside, helping her feel fuller the more he did it. The gentleness of his words and touch was gone, now replaced by what seemed to be a rutting animal with only a need to release.

The feeling was mutual, in all honesty.

The Druid slid one arm underneath her head while another grabbed a hold of her thigh, raising it so that he had access to her deepest parts. His cock jabbed at her insides, and Edith swore she was seeing stars. No longer was she able to look at his face, since he was buried deep in her neck. The one thing she could focus on was the wooden ceiling of the Last Night Inn.

“Oakfathe— Father— Do not let— Preserve—“

She could feel him grow, feel more hair that was now turning into fur. For just a moment, she could see his hand turn bigger, his nails growing into that of a large animal - before he slammed his hand down onto the floor and almost breaking it.

He growled like a beast, letting out a sound that she had never heard before. “You are pooling for me, my heart.” his voice was a mixture of his own and a deep, low monstrous tone she had never heard before. “So delicate.”

Edith could only lay and observe him. Her clit was raw, her insides felt like they were being rearranged and she could only crave more. “Release inside me. I wish to be coated in your seed.”

Halsin slammed his fist on the same board again, this time cracking some parts of the wood in the process. The words seemed to spur him on and he picked up his pace, the hand under her head gripping her so tight that she felt it would pop if he pressed hard enough.

“Fuck, fuck, Halsin please,” she mewed, barely being in control of her own body as his cock assaulted her entrance over and over, the feeling turning from discomfort to pleasure to pain and comfort all in one. There was no way anyone wouldn’t hear of this, and at this point, Edith did not care.

Edith didn’t last much longer. She was crying out in pleasure, tightly coiled around the giant elf as her inner muscles clenched and released. It was the tightening of her core that lasted him two full thrusts before he released.

Trickling warmth covered her insides. It turned into a heat she did not anticipate. What surprised her though, was that it just kept coming. Halsin halted his movements entirely, and the only thing she could feel was the twitching of his cock as he kept coming inside. Thick ropes of cum, all coating her entirely. She swore she could feel some of it seep out of her entrance too.

Once he was fully spent, Halsin raised his head to look at her. The scar on his lip had some blood pooling, presumably from the bite he had self-inflicted during his rutting. There was sweat pooling down his face, his long hair stuck to the sides of it as he panted. She could feel his heartbeat on top of hers.

“What an… interesting turn of events.” Edith said breathlessly, reaching up to cup his face with her hands.

Halsin turned his head to give her palm a kiss before groaning in what seemed to be agony. Edith furrowed her brows in confusion as she followed his gaze which ended next to her head.

Another floorboard had cracked.

#halsin #baldur's gate 3 #halsin x tav #halsin x original female character #fanfiction #halsin deserves a lot more #my fics #the bear

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attonposting · 1 year

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So KotOR II, when you train your companions into Jedi, I think most of us immediately give our Force Friend Squad healing and lightning and whatever else is gonna make combat go quickest. But looking at them as people, what powers would they actually have an affinity for? What's natural for them to learn and use?

Atton cannot heal to save his life – and it would, given his tendency to get himself into trouble. However, what he does have a knack for is Revitalize, channeling his ability to hang in there and keep fighting no matter what. He's also got a nasty predisposition towards a couple of dark side powers, especially Force Choke. At first Atton is pretty irreverent about how he uses the Force – a blaster bolt or an exploded guy, dead is dead, so what's the difference? - but the issue is that, as before, he likes it. And he doesn't want to feel that anymore. Atton would also be quite good at mind tricks, being both a duplicitous asshole and an ex-assassin with specialized training on how mental domination works, but it's a moot point because he stubbornly refuses to learn them.

Bao-Dur's first foray into the Force involves learning to manipulate the currents in droids – they're the easiest energies for him to connect to, and disabling or overloading machinery from afar comes naturally. What also comes naturally, unfortunately, is Force Scream, especially when they land on Dxun and all his old war wounds are torn open. Canderous joining the crew was not a good time for him, and honestly, when Bao-Dur talks about how he feels calmer in the Exile's presence? I think it makes a lot of difference whether this chat happens before or after Dxun. Bao-Dur's a whirlpool beneath a calm surface, so psychic blasting people with repressed anger and pain hits pretty right from where I'm standing. He has to work a little harder to learn Force healing, but channeling his energy into reconstruction is something he eventually strikes a deep, quiet connection with.

Mira was the hardest for me to peg, at least with the game's power roster. We already know what she's best at through the Force – a strange combination of hunter's instinct and empathy, where she can find people by understanding how they think and what they need. There's no power equivalent to that, though. What I do think she'd excel at is Stun and Stasis. It's part because she always strives to disable people without killing them, and part because that's kind of her whole aesthetic (or at least that's what the design team would like us to believe, smh) – appearing nonthreatening and then taking you down before you ever realized you were in danger. A non-Dark-Side Mira would have a lot of trouble with blatantly lethal powers like Force Lightning and Force Choke, and if she doesn't, that's allll on the Exile's freaky influence warp.

Brianna is a master of combat buffs – at first mastering her own body, and then channeling that near-preternatural surefootedness to her allies. Master Speed, Force Valor, deflecting blaster bolts with her bare hands, it's all in her wheelhouse. Can totally see her in the middle of a pitched fight tossing people around with Force Wave, literally leaping across a battlefield with lightsabers flashing and landing with a shockwave that throws a dozen men back. Girl could go very anime if she wanted. Let's face it, she's earned it.

Mical is absolutely a healer. Guy already had medical training, and more importantly, he is friend-shaped. It's not something that companions can learn or use in-game, but I think that persuasion would also be in his wheelhouse – not for the sake of domination, but out of a sincere desire to seek better solutions where tempers, greed, and pride otherwise rule. Like, c'mon, he becomes a senator in some of his endings – now imagine that, but not completely disillusioned with the galaxy. He could cut you down, but he'd really rather you go home and rethink your life choices. I think there's strong grounds for him getting Force Enlightenment down the road, which is another exclusive-to-PC power that's beyond the scope of many Masters. Mical has about the most complete view of the Jedi Order anyone could aspire to, understanding without excusing its flaws and the easy pitfalls the Code can lead to while still truly believing in the good it can do for the galaxy.

Visas joins the party pre-equipped with a bunch of Dark Side powers, which makes me weep. Like, Force Horror? She's projecting the overwhelming trauma of Katarr. Choke and Lightning? You know Nihilus used them on her liberally. It's awful. But I'd like to think that on a Light Side run, as she grows into her own, she develops different affinities. I get support vibes again, but for Visas, it's about endurance, and sharing what she's gained with those who helped lift her up – Force Barrier and Energy Resistance, Force Aura, maybe Force Resistance. She can still wield her grief and her anger, but it doesn't rule her – she's not like Atton, where those powers hold a real and present danger for his psyche. She still feels that pain, and she's unafraid to use the darkness when necessity calls, but it's not the only thing that fills her heart anymore.

#kotor #kotor 2 #kotor ii #atton rand #bao-dur #visas marr #mira #brianna #the handmaiden #mical #the disciple

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dcviated · 11 months

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trails in the trails starters :: old meme

@causalitylinked sent: ❝This spot is definitely more for couples than for friends…❞ [ from herja for dogi, source ]

A well travelled adventurer like Dogi had a knack for a couple things- some more useful than others. Like finding himself with people who got themselves into trouble (for sure), or the sense to sniff out spots where tasty local specialties could be sampled. When it comes to rooms though, the brute is better at breaking out of them than he is reading them.

It's a nice spot, that's what Dogi had gathered after happening upon the open-air cafe the other day during the crew's stop. Course, that was early morning then. The location was less crowded and he was able to chat with the workers and hear about the fare. The one thing they failed to mention was the typical clientele... otherwise, he may not have so casually invited Herja along.

"Whaaat? Now what makes you say that, Herja? Because it's got great food and a view for watching the sun set over the horizon? Don't tell me every place like that's reserved for couples! Hardly seems fair to me! Folks like us gotta enjoy the sights from somewhere. Mm, the butter on the fish is amazing!" Dogi is almost arrogant in his dismissal of the woman's observation, but that humored grin doesn't last long after he looks to face her.

Not because of Herja, mind, but the vibes that were around her. Around them. Suddenly, this casual outing between crewmates had a different air to it. Look at all the other couples. Gazing at each other, holding hands and giggling. When he and Herja's eyes meet again the atmosphere is a little more... awkward.

"Oh. Now I see what you mean. This place definitely has a lot of uh- Yeah. Right. Now hold on! Don't look at me like I did this on purpose, wasn't like I was trying to pull something here... you didn't wanna leave, did ya?" Dogi's a little embarrassed, sure, but he's not about to abandon ship. But, if the companion he'd invited along after their expressed interest decided otherwise. Well. Always something else that could be done, right?

#causalitylinked #causalitylinked :: herja #muse :: dogi #inbox :: answered ic #it should be noted he can be a lil stupid sometimes #perhaps the situation can be salvaged #but thanks for sending this in!!

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fuckyeah-jessicabiel · 1 year

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Jessica Biel for CosmoGirl October/November 1999 by Jodi Bryson

Find out why this 7th Heaven star is the coolest friend a girl could have!

"I'm definitely weird," Jessica Biel confesses as she digs through the knick-knacks in her bedroom. "I have some really wild stuff." She points out her collection of vintage sunglasses, a bunch of so-bright-they're-blinding wigs, dozens of phone numbers taped to the wall, and her favorite Abercrombie & Fitch ad. "He is the hottest Abercrombie model ever," she says.

The 17 year old star of 7th Heaven just finished her third season on the show and aced her junior year of high school. Now she's flinging clothes around her bedroom to prep for a European vacation with two of her closest friends. "I want to go someplace I've never been with people I really love hanging out with," she says. "I want to see some amazing things."

Jessie has that I'll-try-anything-once outlook down pat. She started her career as a model, but at 14 decided to give acting a whirl. Like in a Hollywood fairy tale, she flew to L.A. and had just a few auditions before scoring the primo role of Mary Camden.

Jessie works on 7th Heaven six days a week, nine months a year. But as soon as she steps off the set, straight-arrow Mary vanishes and the real Jessie charms everyone around her with warp-speed chitchat about her big plans for the future (a backpacking trip with her best friend, college, and maybe a second career as a photographer). Clearly, Jessie is ready to take on the world. First stop, Europe!

The Big Trip

"I have no idea what to expect," Jessie says of her European vacation, "but I just can't wait to eat that good food!" Is she worried about travelling to strange countries where she doesn't know a soul? "No, I'm very excited. My mom has a checklist of things for me to do before I go: Make copies of my passport, driver's license, and credit cards; pack these things close to my body but separate from my wallet. My mother has planed it all out -- I just gotta do it."

Jessie makes a surprisingly small pile of clothes at the bottom of her bed, then crams it into a backpack. "I'm honestly taking one pair of pants, a T-shirt, a couple pairs of shorts, a few tank tops, a sweatshirt, a bathing suit, and two pairs of underwear that I'll keep throwing in the sink. My camera is the most important thing."

In addition to taking tons of snaps, Jessie has dreamed up the coolest way to keep track of her European adventures. "Instead of a private diary, I'm going to take a big book, like a communal journal, and anyone can write in it," she says. "If someone says, 'Can I see your journal and write a little entry?' that's cool. It will be nice to look back and read what we all did and what we felt together." Bon voyage!

Best Friends

Her travelling companions are her friends Shane Nelson and Light Dreamer Eternity. "Light rocks so hard," Jessie says. And even though she lives in L.A. now, Jessie is still supertight with her best friend from her hometown of Boulder, Colorado, who's also named Jessie. "I have pictures of Jessie and me stuck all over my room," she says. What's her secret for maintaining such strong friendships? "There's never the silent treatment," Jessie explains. "If I was in a fight with a friend, I would just call and be like, What is the deal? What did I do? What do we need to talk about? How can we get it over with?" Jessie's the kind of friend who wouldn't let you stay mad at her.

A Special Guy

Will her absence make anyone's heart grow fonder? Jessie let it slip that she has a long-distance boyfriend, but then she wouldn't spill a single detail! (And believe us, we begged!) But she did share her sure-fire hook-up advice. "I'm pretty forward with guys," she says. "I'll just walk up to somebody and I'll be really blunt and say, 'What a great-looking person you are! Have an awesome day.'" Does that really work? "Well, I don't say that to a guy because I want him to be my boyfriend," she says. "I just want to tell him." What guy could resist?

Prom Night

Unfortunately, Jessie didn't get to take her secret boyfriend to her junior prom. "I promised Beverley Mitchell [who plays her younger sister Lucy on 7th Heaven] that I'd go to her friend's prom. And she made me promise that I wouldn't back out. I found out a week later that my prom was the exact same day! So I missed my prom to go to another prom with this kid who didn't have a date," she says. She didn't skimp on glamour for her first prom experience: She wore an elegant white cami-and-skirt combo with superhigh-heeled sandals. "It turned out that we had a good time, but Bev totally owes me!"

Bad Behavior

Jessie doesn't always play it so straight and narrow. There's a sneaky story about the pink flamingo hanging from her bedroom ceiling.

"We had just sold our house in Boulder, Colorado, and I loved that house," she says. "I wanted to see it one more time. When my best friend Jessie and I drove up to it, my eyes welled up -- there was a pink flamingo sticking out of my front yard! It was the chessiest thing I'd ever seen. I was not happy with that flamingo. I thought, This has to go. So I ran and ripped it out of the ground. I busted to the car and yelled, 'Go, Jessie, go!' and we just took off. I pulled out the stick and put the flamingo in my suitcase, and took it home with me," she says. "I don't think the family even knew it was missing." Um, Jessie...they do now.

BRIGHT FUTURE

Even though Jessie's a totally fearless adventurer, she still gets homesick for Boulder. "I miss the people, I miss the mountains. It is so laid-back there," she explains. Does she ever see herself going back to settle down in the Rocky Mountain foothills? "I have one more year of high school, which seems like it's going to take forever -- and then I'm on my own! I can be wherever I want to be!" Look out world -- here she comes!"

#jessica biel #cover #cosmo girl #articles #1999 #james dean #jimmi hendrix #magazines

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viviskull · 1 year

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@electricea : Continued from here

“Heh, I do my best!” His own cheeks were tinted pink as he accepted the compliment happily. Taking the handles of the wagon into his hands, he found himself actually looking forward to the rest of their journey - which would no doubt be difficult and tiring by the end of it, yet standing here talking with Vivi, it didn’t feel like such a big ordeal anymore. Vivi was just a fun person to spend time with, to talk with - most people his age would scoff at the idea of a pumpkin carving contest as something ‘childish’ or ‘dumb’, yet with Vivi, he didn’t get that sense at all. Vivi seemed to have an energy that matched his own, in both enthusiasm and youthfulness - in some ways, he couldn’t help but feel that they were kindred spirits. “Yeah, that sounds good to me! First things first! Though, I do plan on holding you to that offer!”

Giving an appreciate nod, he shifts to the side to make room for Vivi to also take hold of the wagon, nudging it forward bit by bit. Though his own thoughts and movements are focused on moving that of the wagon forward, every so often, he can’t help but look up toward his companion as Vivi seemed to be struggling a little bit - seeming to look more and more fatigued every time he looked up. Though he thought of saying something, for now, he grit his teeth and decided to stay quiet, instead opting to continue to slowly, steadily, push the wagon along bit by bit. While the progress wasn’t exactly fast, it was still progress nevertheless.

“Sorry about that…!“ He moved to try and shift the wagon along with her, gripping it carefully to try and keep it from falling onto its side. The last thing that they needed right now was to have to try and do this all over again - and risk breaking the pumpkin too! “Magical strength boost…?” He blinked, looking down at the wagon and then back up at her. “Was that…?” How they had managed to keep chugging along, like this? Making all this progress along the way? Come to think of it, they had come a pretty long way - long enough to be nearly out to the van. “I’ll try and be more careful, Vivi!” He nods his head firmly, determinedly, giving her his best smile. “I think we’re nearly there so let’s finish this up, together!”

Their borrowed wagon gave a few protesting groans and tittering squeaks as they kept continuously steadying it from rolling onto its side like a dead horse. Vivi kept one hand hooked into its hard, cracked plastic as another grasped at a dirty wooden handle to ease out the balance on her side of the wheelbarrow. Perhaps their pumpkin might’ve been more heavy than she initially thought, but it should’ve also been when she gave most of her strength away for the other borrow for the time being. Doing spells here and there often came natural for this lil blue dame, but sometimes she often bit off more than she could chew when it came to tolerating the eating effects of her resulting magicks. It’s what happens when you decide to burden the pain of your friend’s tolling labor, anyways.

But it beats seeing the kid suffering from back aches in the morning. Plus, they only really had like a couple days to get this pumpkin ready, she couldn’t waste their efforts and time in resting just yet. Not while she kinda promised her pal they’d win somehow.

“Huh–,” she shoots the other a quick glance on her right–, “what else do ya think I kissed ya on the cheek for? For cheesy good ol’ luck?” Vivi impulsively raises an eyebrow. “I don’t got enough hands to grab a raw crystal out of nowhere, ya know. This–,” with a light brush of her elbow nudging into his side, a stronger pulse of warmth quickly tickles against the fellow’s skin–, “is just a lil trick I learned from my Gram. They’ve got more of a knack for this sorta supportive magick usually.”

Which is probably why she’s looking a little on the exhausted side, maybe. Perhaps this magical boost is more of an active bond? Let’s just hope it lasts long enough where they can pick up the pace a little and jog to the car faster.

Whilst a sharp exhale of air escapes the dame’s throat, Vivi couldn’t suppress the airy laugh that swiftly followed with a hot puff of autumn smoke. Perhaps more so taken aback by her young companion’s enthusiasm, her tired grin couldn’t help but twist to the side with an awkward air. Yeah, they weren’t too far from the van now, but the inspirational flare might’ve been much for her own tastes. However, who’s to say she wasn’t one for dramatics though?

Vivi blows a lazy raspberry at the other. “Let’s see if we can even get this thing in the trunk afterwards, Armstrong.” She lightly jokes. “Arthur’s probably waiting on us in the van anyway.”

#Ah! I love acting! {RP Thread}#Ooo! You look so cool! {Vivi}#Write it down! {Canon}#electricea #((this kinda took a long while to get to but heres to bringing this thread back because I adore these twos' friendship ToT))#Icon Cred: danicloth

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vacantgodling · 11 months

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Since you're already probably gonna do them for Hya & Amon (very excited for that) how about 30-35 from obligatory otp for a tcol couple?

thank you for asking!! :3c

i am extremely tempted to do this (or like a one question) for all my favorite canon/non canon tcol ships cuz i Do Not talk about them enough however i will restrain myself to one and do the brain rot tcol ship which is clear and forte

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

i think forte would be wearing something skin tight, midriff showing (kinda similar to what clear wears while dark hunting tbh) and clear would be experiencing major blood loss in the background.

clear would be wearing something kind of drapey and soft (forte just wants him to be COMFORTABLE and REST), sleep clothes basically take ur ass to Bed.

31. Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.)

even before they got together they were always a BIT handsy. but it’s more of the companionable, touching shoulders, knees, standing close type of thing. when together they’re not like Hella PDA-y with their relationship but clear really enjoys holding hands or having a hand or arm on each other’s waists and the like and who is forte to deny him?

32. Who's the better story teller?

points to the bard’s son aka forte. he has a real natural knack for it and is very good with suspense and embellishment when necessary; clear is a bit more to the point or jumbled when he tells stories there’s no in-between.

33. Who's the better cook?

honestly neither of them are good at it LMAO 💀💀

34. Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?

honestly both of them are likely to make dirty jokes, but i think they both say it offhandedly and in a somewhat sly way—so others may not 100% get the reference up front. however, clear is definitely more likely to blush; in general he gets more flustered than forte does about like anything especially when it comes to relationships or romance etc. forte can usually dish it right back if clear instigates a joke lmao.

35. Who's more artistic?

once again pointing to the bard’s son (forte) however he hasn’t really wanted to pursue anything artistic bc he wants to be his “own person.” clear wasn’t really allowed other outlets growing up so i think he’s fascinated with the arts, and he does have a pretty decent singing voice, but he feels a bit awkward pursuing anything.

#there’s a lot of tcol couples #and then ships that exist that like are canon but are they?#maybe i’ll look through the list and then do the thing #hmMmmM #but i love clear and forte they are so Tender #s: tcol

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translestatdl · 1 year

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I never do this but I haven't written anything in weeks and today after work I was able to start this Daniel fic and I need to share SOMETHING with y'all or I will implode. First 500ish words after the cut, no content warnings, enjoy. Feel free to theorize about where this is going in the comments/tags

The Drifters were crooning out of the old transistor radio when I came into the garage. He had it up on the roof of the Cadillac convertible he was working on. Lemon yellow with red leather interior. 1952. Older than me by a few years. His baby.

“Hey, dad,” I said as I came up to the other side of the open hood. “You got a minute?”

He didn’t come up for air. Still all grease-stained elbows and bald patch.

“Dad!” said it a little louder, that time.

“What?” He lifted one arm, craned his neck to peek under it without letting go of whatever he was fiddling with. “Oh, Daniel. Thought you were taking Vicky to a movie today.”

“It’s not until one.” I shoved my hands deeper into my coat pockets. It was January, just after winter break. “It’s freezing out here, dad. Why don’t you turn on that space heater mom got you for Christmas?”

“Nah, don’t need it. I told her she might as well return the thing. I could work up a sweat in the middle-”

“-middle of a blizzard, I know,” I finished with him. “Look, couldn’t you at least try it out? She really thought you were gonna love it.”

He lost his grip on something and it clinked and clattered on its way to the concrete. He muttered an indistinct curse and fished his penlight out of his shirt pocket.

“Now’s not the best time, Dan. Let’s take a rain check, ok?”

“Is that it over there?” I walked over to the corner where he’d put it next to the trash can. “C’mon, dad, you didn’t even take it out of the box.” I pulled out my pocket knife and set to it myself.

Must’ve been a couple minutes or so of companionable silence. He found the wrench he’d dropped and withdrew fully out from under the hood for the first time. Stood up straight and popped his back with a groan.

“Never get old, Dan. It’s not half what it’s cracked up to be.” He watched me lift the heater out of the box, remove the styrofoam padding, unwind the power cord. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

I felt the tension start to build up in my neck and shoulders. He really had a knack for saying that right before I fucked things up again.

“Not the best, though, right?” I said without looking up.

He moved in my peripheral vision and I was so familiar with the gesture I might as well have been staring right at him; a brusque wave of his hand, a shake of his head, eyes closed in a reflexive grimace.

“Anybody says their kid’s perfect is either lying or delusional.”

He turned back to work on his first born and it took me a second to work up the nerve to keep going.

“We gotta talk about it, dad.”

#vc #vampire chronicles #daniel molloy #iwtv #interview with the vampire #fanfic

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andswarwrites · 1 year

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Day 22

Some children have a knack for becoming an “interpreter” for their parents. In a dispute between the couple, their young child may speak up and explain to their father that when their mother said or did a certain thing, she actually meant such and such, and then explain to their mother that their father may not seem to feel a certain way, but this and that indicate otherwise. These children grow up to be mediators, who, when they are in a relationship of their own, can navigate communication like it’s their superpower.

If we have this superpower, however, we have to be careful not to misread the signs we think are so clear. That's why, no matter how obvious I think certain signals are, I prefer to simply ask: "How are you feeling right now?" or "How are you doing?" Maybe the banging of dishes in the sink while they are washed isn't passive aggressive. And a bad mood isn't necessarily directed at us. The best way to help out is to give the person an outlet for expressing what's on their mind, if their even is anything.

So instead of thinking I'm a mind reader, I think of myself more as an empath. I registered something on my radar: someone seems upset, stressed, or even just tense. If they seem to be trying to cope or hide it, I try to reassure them with a kind gesture. Often I ask if I can give them a hug. Not everyone wants one, so I offer. And a refusal doesn't hurt me. I follow up by asking if they would like some company, and I let them choose if they feel like talking or if they just want to a silent companion to sit with.

The other day my daughter asked me why I was so cranky. I told her it was because I had to do something I didn't feel like doing. As soon as she understood, she stopped getting angry with me for my moodiness. That just shows me that everyone is allowed to have bad days or even just moments, and the greatest gift you can give someone who is having a hard time, is not expect them to magically cheer up, but let them feel the way they are feeling.

I also have to be careful not to let my empathy drain me. In order to do this, I need to keep the right perspective, the right angle. Of course I care when someone I meet is going through trials. But I can't take their trials on and make them into my own. I have to remember that every single person on the planet is going through their own difficulty and challenge, because that's how life is. If I add their burdens to mine, I'll collapse under the weight. I know, I've done it.

To show balanced empathy, I listen, and while I listen, I let my imagination live their anxieties and cares. Then I ask if there is anything I can do to help, and if they dismiss the offer, I press them to think about it. If there is something, and it is within my power, I resolve to assist. That's the best I can do, so I let it go afterwards. I don't dwell on my friend's troubles. That's not helpful to either of us. I bring my focus onto my immediate family, and at times I pour out my heart in my writing, in order to get it all off my own chest.

Sometimes what I see in the news starts to, as Jayne Cobb would say, "damage my calm." Atrocities happen so frequently. I know I've reached my limit when an anxious, icy heaviness expands inside my core. Then it's time to turn away from current events and regain my composure. Then I need to get away from my own cares, the cares that have been shared with me, the cares the whole world piles onto me, and go for a long walk, putting one foot in front of the other, and letting my brain think away.

When I'm preoccupied I'm at risk of not getting sufficient sleep and rest, and then my mind doesn't recalibrate the way it's supposed to, and I start to spiral out of control. When I miss a night of sleep like I did last night, my mother gets worried. She tells me over the phone to make sure I unwind that evening so that I'll be able to sleep. Because a complete inability to sleep is not good for anyone, but for me it's downright dangerous. Being completely wired may lead to a manic episode.

My mom and I talk every day. She can hear a lot from my tone of voice. If I sound exhilarated, she doesn't jump to conclusions, but she does make a note of it. And then she waits to see how I'm doing the next day. If she voices a concern, like she did yesterday, I do not dismiss it. I take it to heart. Because I trust her judgement. She knows me well. I've got a disorder that is skewing my moods, so I need to listen to her point of view, and trust it. Because when I trust my own thoughts implicitly, that's a very bad sign.

I started sifting through my writing since 2016 yesterday. I'm compiling some into a sort of memoir. I used to write with a lot more symbolism. I wonder if the contrast between how I used to express myself before my diagnosis and how I express myself now will give some insight into the mind of someone with bipolar disorder. Just compiling it is going to take a few more days, if my work ethic holds strong. It might take a month, if I lose my drive. Anyway, I'm thinking about asking my beloved aunt as well as my beloved sister to read it and give me their thoughts. It's just an idea, in its infant form.

#communication #bipolar disorder #personal

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tehuti88-art · 9 months

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8/11/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Liam Morgan, sans cap (top drawing) and with cap (bottom drawing). (I'm unsure of his rank.) He's in the British military but has secretly been turned by the bad guys, and he turns one of the American good guys, but this detail isn't revealed until near the story's end because it's someone nobody expected. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding his design, nothing much to say except I clearly imagined him with bold distinctive coloring, in this case white with a black hood.

TUMBLR EDIT: Anna Julian is a young American corporal who's sent to liaise between the Americans and a British outpost in German territory early in the war. She's one of the very very few women around, and is quite pretty, so of course draws a lot of attention. One night while she's walking alone back to the base at which she's a guest, two men attack her; she tries to fight them off, but isn't strong enough. Just as it looks like the worst is about to happen, a third man appears and promptly lays out one attacker before turning on the other; a couple of blows and the attacker grabs on to his companion, just getting back on his feet, and goes stumbling away with him. The third man turns to the mussed and stunned Julian and asks if she's all right; seeing the state she's in, he offers to walk her back to the base and fetch her a drink to steady her nerves. Once they're back in a public, well-lit area, she starts to calm down and asks the man his name. He replies, "Liam. Liam Morgan."

Corporal Julian expresses her gratitude to the man who will end up being the death of her. She doesn't know this yet, of course. She also doesn't know how Morgan paid a couple of men to pretend to attack her, so he could swoop in, save the day, and with luck, win her over. All she knows is he just (apparently) saved her life, and he has the kindest eyes and smile she's ever seen. She starts falling for him almost immediately. Just as planned.

Liam Morgan may be a British military officer but he's also a Svengali. There's irony in this, as the original Svengali was a Jewish stereotype, whereas Morgan is secretly working for the Waffen-SS. The SS has secret files on most German citizens and also on many enemy combatants. They have a slim file on Julian. Just like Morgan himself, they've identified her as a mark with potential. One small yet promising detail they've dug up is that Julian despises Jews. She's exactly the sort of person the SS is interested in right now, so they send Morgan to recruit her by whatever means necessary.

Liam Morgan hasn't revealed his past to me just yet, but I imagine it was a rather rough one, which primed him to become the sort of person the SS wanted to recruit. He has an uncanny knack for reading people, determining their motivations, fears, desires, what makes them tick, and how best to manipulate them to achieve his own ends--a talent he likely developed as a consequence of having to rely on himself only to survive. I'm not sure that he's a psychopath, but he comes close. He has the additional talent of hiding this first trait behind an empathic, kindly demeanor. No one could ever tell from a glance at him, his body language, his eyes, the sort of person he truly is. He's a master at disguising his motives while digging out others', and not only does this make him an asset to the Allies, the SS wants him as well.

How exactly Morgan is "turned" by the SS isn't something I've explored yet but I imagine it has interesting background potential. It's unlikely, given his personality, that he was entirely willing--he deeply resents being under anyone's thumb, and while he'll do others' bidding if it suits him, he always does so on his own terms. I imagine agents for the SS abduct him at some point and he's likely exposed to some sort of brief but extensive torture, and possibly what later becomes known as brainwashing; for his strengths are also his weaknesses, and the SS knows how to exploit them. Their treatment of him before he's set loose again with his new mission is likely quite brutal. He flips rather quickly but definitely not easily.

Morgan's mission: To find and turn other potential SS operatives from within Allied ranks. He's good at this, when it's other men; when it's women, he's excellent. He's fit, handsome, intelligent, well mannered, and knows what they like. The SS accordingly has him focus his talents on female marks. When word reaches them of the British forces getting ready to send someone to speak with and establish an alliance with an American battalion known as the Trench Rats, they carefully set everything in motion. Morgan is sent to flip Corporal Julian, who, although not part of British forces, has recently established herself as a liasion between them and the Americans--the perfect mark, if he can not only flip her but make sure she's the one to secure this particular mission herself. Morgan knows this latter detail will be a cinch--Julian can easily convince her British handlers of the benefits of sending her to interact with the Trench Rats. As for the former detail, it'll be a bit more challenging, though not overly so. As I said, Morgan reads women like open books. And what he reads in Julian's file convinces him she's especially susceptible to his skills. He locates a couple of shady characters who are both good at keeping mum, and in need of cash--gives them money and instructions where and when to find Corporal Julian--and waits. Within days, Julian is smitten with him, and he suspects it won't take long at all for her to do anything he requests of her.

He's working on a tight schedule--the British are expected to send someone to the Rats soon--so he works Julian a little bit faster than usual. It helps significantly when he determines something about her that he'd suspected, from reading her background in her file, yet which hadn't been proven: Julian likely had a traumatic past similar to his own, though her reaction was different from Morgan's. Whereas Morgan learned to become manipulative, conniving, clever and chameleonic and opportunistic, subtly bending other people to his will, Julian learned to become submissive and compliant, bending to the will of others. She has a bit of a stubborn streak, due to her pervasive mistrust of others, but once Morgan discovers this he knows exactly how to wear her down. With most of his targets, he never even has to use force, he's that skilled. With Julian, it turns out a little bit of force is actually attractive. Within a few weeks more, Julian is putty in his hands. Whatever he wants her to do, she'll do, without question. Even humiliate herself.

Morgan does have to teach Julian to hide her emotions better--"You'll never get anywhere in life, love, wearing them on your face like that for everyone to see"--and though she never becomes even half as skilled as he is at such things, still, she improves quite a bit. He teaches her to feign other emotions to show openly. He brings up the subject of the upcoming envoy to the Trench Rats, and suggests she volunteer for the role. "This'll be an excellent test of your skills, love, and you'll be doing a good service." "A good service for who...?" Julian asks--a very rare question. Morgan replies, "For the Fatherland, love."

Here, the ultimate test: During all his grooming of her, Morgan's never told Julian who it is he answers to; he usually has no need to. He takes a calculated risk in telling her now. As expected, she reacts with confusion, and even tries to back off a little bit although he stops her. She starts putting up her mental wall but he halts this just in time to tell her how and why she'll be so useful: "These Americans I told you to meet with, love...? They have a corporal. A Jew. A Jew working to undermine everything you and I stand for. How does that make you feel...?"

Julian is understandably guarded, but listens to what Morgan has to say. He plainly sees the disgust flicker across her face as he describes the Trench Rats' corporal, Drake Rat, and the success he's had so far in helping to rescue another American unit and establish contact with a group of French partisans. "He's done far more putting out his tentacles than their sergeant, even," Morgan says. "Their Aryan sergeant. He may be the one with rank but the Jew's the one really in charge, and already he's making inroads. Here, in the Fatherland! Right under our noses! I know this can't sit right with you, love, and I know it can't sit right with you that we're actually considering collaborating with such a person. It's bad enough when we give them power. To welcome them among us...this is far worse. Our militaries are actually encouraging this shameful stuff, this race mixing. You've seen what men are like. How is he any different...?"

Here, Morgan opens the door; and--"What do I have to do?"--Julian steps right through it. Ever a master, he strings her along just a little: "I'm not sure this is the sort of mission for someone like you after all," he admits, concern in his eyes; "it's asking an awful lot. Especially for someone with so little experience. Maybe I've overestimated you with this." He knows the power of occasional, subtle, well-placed jabs on a psyche such as Julian's, how badly they sting, yet how much more motivating they are. And indeed, it works just as planned--"I can handle it," Julian insists, a bit desperately. "Just tell me what I need to do." Any chance to prove her worth to him. Morgan hesitates a tiny bit further: "It's going to be difficult, and abhorrent, love; you're sure you want to go through with it?--I could find an easier mission you're more suited for," but she's persistent, actually grasping the front of his uniform and looking up at him pleadingly. "Let me do it," she says. "Let me show I can do it." Then, a bit halting, "For...for us. Our race...for the Fatherland."

Morgan knows now that he's snagged her, but it's only when he tells her the actual mission--to meet with the Trench Rats, and attempt to seduce and extract info from Corporal Drake--and she agrees--that he's certain his own mission is accomplished. Julian's been turned. She shoves down her revulsion, uses the skills he taught her to hide her emotions, requests the mission from her British handlers, and is sent to meet with Sergeant Camo Rat and Corporal Drake Rat.

Much of the following, Julian's actions, go unobserved by Morgan personally. His own involvement with the American forces is, by necessity, quite limited--his connection to Julian has to remain secret. She keeps him filled in on her progress whenever she returns to British headquarters and spends the night with him. She outlines her initial interactions with Sergeant Camo and Corporal Drake; the two are understandably aloof, yet polite. Drake is the more personable of the pair--when she salutes and then shakes their hands, he offers a small courteous smile, unlike Camo, who seems to distrust her. Julian furrows her brow as she describes this meeting to Morgan. "He wasn't what I expected," she murmurs, "the way you described him." When he asks what she means, she adds, "I mean...his eyes are brown, but other than that he looks and talks just like us." She'd actually been expecting a literal Jewish stereotype to greet her. "That's how they fool us, love," Morgan explains. "He likely has some race mixing in his own past. It's been going on for generations, for centuries. How else do you think they've gotten their claws in so deep...?" He reminds her to stay alert and not let herself get complacent just because a Jew doesn't look like a Jew; if anything, ones like Drake are even more insidious in how disarming they are. Julian promises to be on her guard.

As the time passes, however, her growing frustration becomes more evident every time she reports back to Morgan; despite her best efforts to get close to the other corporal (Julian doesn't really "flirt," she's not the type--and she senses Drake isn't the flirty type either--but she does send out subtle hints, smiling at him often, taking chances to be alone with him, unbuttoning the top of her blouse and leaning down a tiny bit far, lifting the edge of her skirt just a tiny bit higher than is proper), it's simply not working, he won't reciprocate. "I don't understand it," she says. "I'm doing everything you suggested, but he won't respond." "You need to step it up then, love," Morgan replies, "stop being so subtle. Make what you want so obvious he can't help but know exactly what you mean." Julian is obviously uncomfortable, but she obeys everything Morgan tells her to do--no matter how humiliating--so she returns to Trench Rat Headquarters to give it another shot.

I should take a moment to note that every time she visits, it's the Rats who have to pick her up, and she's always blindfolded and has thick headphones placed over her ears, to block out all sight and sound; Trench Rat Headquarters is kept a strict secret from non-Trench Rats, no matter how closely allied, and this is one of her intended goals, to gain the Rats' trust enough to also gain admission to Headquarters and thus learn its exact location. She heads back, and after a few days of sending yet more hints Drake's way (he's polite, yet utterly platonic), she manages to wheedle her way into him letting her into his private quarters. This takes her utmost ability in convincing, and lots of little white lies (which make her cringe inside--she detests being deliberately untruthful), and Drake himself is obviously uneasy letting her in, yet she correctly banks on his own sense of courtesy making it difficult for him to refuse. She's again surprised by how "normal" everything looks; she'd expected all sorts of signs of blatant Jewishness but really the only different thing she notices is a Tanakh, or Hebrew Bible, sitting on his desk. They make a little polite smalltalk, then when he's turned away she again undoes a few buttons on her blouse and the moment he turns back around, she practically launches herself at him and kisses him, hard. She'd been trying to aim for his bunk but he accidentally backs into the file cabinet beside it instead, the drawers letting out a violent rattle; she sees his eyes go comically wide as her mouth meets his and she presses against him. He lets out a startled noise--since he can't talk--and blinks--then grabs her upper arms, fingers digging in. Julian shuts her eyes and expects him to push her onto the bunk, which is why she stumbles and nearly falls over in surprise when instead, he pushes her back and breaks the kiss, keeping hold of her arms long enough to step aside from the cabinet and into the middle of the room before letting her go. "Corporal!!" he exclaims, voice cracking; Julian catches her footing and for a second or two they stand there, panting and staring at each other with wide eyes. Julian clutches shut the open front of her blouse, feeling a flush rising in her face; Drake looks more aghast than anything, and she feels the tiniest bit of pique, that how dare he, how dare this Jew find her repulsive. He takes a breath, appears to gather himself, and says in as even a voice as he can muster, "I think you should go now, and I won't report this."

She quickly does so, without argument; her humiliation--and growing rage--are almost crushing. It's all she can do not to scream as she storms back up the hall to her own guest quarters; in fact she almost misses noticing Camo as he approaches, though he definitely notices her. "Corporal--?" he says, startling her so she gasps and lets go of her blouse; seeing who it is, she blushes furiously and does the buttons back up as quick as she can. Camo frowns at her disheveled state and asks, "Are you all right?"--obviously suspecting something unseemly. Julian assures him she's fine; still, "Is there anything you need to report?" he presses, and she belatedly realizes that he thinks someone tried to attack her. She reiterates that everything is fine, she's fine, there's nothing that needs reporting. The Trench Rat sergeant looks unconvinced, but lets her continue on her way. She straightens herself out in her room and requests a ride back to British headquarters sooner than planned, for once appreciating the blindfold and headphones and the long ride to help calm herself down. By the time she meets with Morgan again, though, her fury has only grown.

"That--that--swine!" she rages, pacing in Morgan's private quarters as he sits and watches, vaguely amused. "Treating me like that! Where does he get off?" "Not with you, apparently, love," Morgan says, unable to resist; he doesn't bother getting angry when Julian screams and knocks everything off his desk, knowing he earned that. "They all think with their [expletive omitted], don't they?" Julian snaps, clenching her fists, pacing back and forth. "Isn't that what you told me? I've seen what men are like? What makes him so different? Why am I not good enough? I'm not subhuman! How--DARE he treat me like that! The nerve to say HE won't report ME! After I literally throw myself at him--what sort of man turns that down? I know there's nothing wrong with me! Is there something wrong with him? Is he--is he a f****t or something--?"

Here--ALMOST a moment of lucidity--except Julian is too enraged to stop and think it over. Of course she has no way to know that Drake's already involved with someone: Papillon, the French partisan who made initial contact with the Trench Rats, and who actually discovered the location of Headquarters on his own. Yes--his own. Drake's not interested in women. Julian could've shown up in his quarters stark naked and it would've made no difference. Even as she says this, Morgan frowns a little, mulls it over, makes a mental reminder to tell the SS to look into gathering more intel and updating Corporal Drake's file accordingly; Julian's question makes sense. What if the Trench Rat corporal really is homosexual? That's definitely something that should be in his file, and of course it completely scuttles this plan. There's no way in hell he'll try to seduce Drake himself. After letting Julian rant a moment or so longer he stands up and grasps her by the shoulders, stopping her in mid-pace, and says, "Hush now, love, you did your best, obviously there's nothing more to be done for it." "I can try harder," Julian immediately replies, and clutches his shirt, that desperate look in her eyes again--"I can do better! I know I can do it! Just--just tell me exactly what it is I have to do, and I'll do it. I'll get it right, I promise."

Morgan pauses--there's something sadistically appealing about sending Julian right back to try--and fail--again, in the most humiliating fashion possible--yet it would only waste valuable time. He grips her shoulders harder and says, "No, love, you gave it a shot, you failed. Such things happen. Let it go. We can try something else now. You said the sergeant asked if you were all right?--he seemed concerned?" When Julian confirms this, he muses, "Maybe this is the open door we need...maybe you should try with him, instead. He might be a lot more receptive." Morgan's read Camo's file--he's a widower, and had a child some time previously, both wife and daughter dying in an automobile accident. Morgan is fairly certain he's not only straight, but available. Maybe even looking.

Julian immediately looks uncertain. "I don't think it'll work," she murmurs; "You didn't see the way he looked at me when we met," she adds, "like he doesn't trust me...I don't think he likes me." "And this is why you try, love," Morgan presses; "Nothing comes easy. I taught you for a reason; did I choose the wrong person for the job? What makes him the line you don't want to cross...?" His hint that she risks disappointing him works; she promises to try, though she seems even more reluctant than she was with Drake. "He's one of us," she finally explains, and by that he knows she means Aryan. (A note here, Morgan is actually of Irish/English descent, whereas I'm not sure about Julian though she's part Irish; Camo is the only one of actual Germanic descent. They're basically using fancy talk for "white & not Jewish/Slavic/Roma.") She believes he'll be much smarter than Drake and will easily see through her motives. Still, a promise is a promise, and this is her mission. They wait for a few days, then she goes back to Trench Rat Headquarters.

She reports back some time later: The more time she spends at HQ, it appears, the more the Rats warm to her. She got to speak with Camo only briefly before he had to leave; spotting Drake walking past, she hailed him and apologized. "You what--?" Morgan says, a bit sharply, making her flinch; "I thought he might compromise me," she protests, and adds that he seemed to take pity on her obvious embarrassment, telling her it was all right and they could forget it happened. "You think he means it?" Morgan asks; Julian ponders a moment before murmuring, "I believe he does...I don't think he can tell without possibly compromising himself, too." She resumes regular visits to Trench Rat Headquarters and over time gradually gets closer to Camo, though it's a very slow process; Camo, just as Julian said, is very distrustful of most others, and at first he seems perplexed by her attention. She starts to consider seducing him to be a personal challenge and Morgan has to carefully rein her in now and then, remembering how infuriated her failure with Drake made her. Julian correctly guesses that Camo's never completely gotten over the death of his family, and this is the likely source of his distrust and self-imposed distance from others; Morgan advises her to go with her gut on this. Julian attempts to empathize with Camo over a shared sense of loss, and finally, the door cracks open, just a little. Morgan warns Julian: "Don't make the mistake you made last time, love. Don't throw yourself at him. Slow. You yourself say you know grief. Take small steps." Never mind that he was the one who advised her to make her intentions for Drake painfully obvious.

Julian arrives at the British outpost, and Morgan's quarters, one day, with a very strange, glassy look in her eyes. Frowning, he lets her in, fetches her a drink--she looks a lot like she did at their first meeting, and he figures she can use it. "What happened...?" he gently asks; it's a moment or two before she can speak, but she then swallows and says, "I did it...we did it." Morgan presses further despite her obvious growing discomfort, but at last she says that she succeeded in convincing Camo to let her spend the night with him.

Morgan doesn't let things go just there--he practically interrogates Julian, making her go into excruciating detail. Several times over he has to outright order her to answer, making her cringe and shrink in on herself in embarrassment, yet she obeys each time. By the time she's done describing her night she's huddled in on herself with her head ducked low, trembling and wiping at her eyes--not because of anything Camo did, he treated her perfectly normally, not at all the way Morgan usually treats her--but because she's so humiliated detailing everything they did. She adds that the morning after was quite awkward, with Camo seeming to regret his actions, so she departed a bit quickly to give him his space; she worries that she might have ruined her progress, but Morgan assures her she made the right move: "You need to go slow with him, love, and you did just that. You did well." Julian lifts her head and makes eye contact; he pauses at the aggrieved look on her face. Julian says, "I feel like--I feel like I'm betraying you," and he realizes just how deeply he's pulled her in; she actually believes he loves her. His eyes soften and he touches her face. "You're doing your job, love, the job I gave you, and you're doing it well. I'm proud of you." "It just feels wrong," she persists, so he asks, "Do you have any feelings for him, love...? Stop and think before you answer me." Julian's silent for a moment, then murmurs, with big glassy doe eyes, "No...none. He's only a target. A job." Morgan responds by smiling and stroking her cheek, murmuring, "Good lass."

Morgan makes his report to his superiors in the Waffen-SS: Julian's gotten an in with the Trench Rats' sergeant. It's early yet, she obviously doesn't yet know the location of HQ, but it's a significant step, and it bodes well for his career. He gets a visit shortly after from a German operative, who tersely requests his and Julian's presence at Projekt Weltuntergang headquarters. Perplexed, he asks for more info, but all the visitor will tell him is authorities wish to speak to them about their recent success. He knows better than to question too much, says they'll visit soon, is told, "You and Fräulein Julian are expected to appear within the week. Make your presence known at the main office," and Morgan promises they'll be there. He briefly explains the situation the next time he sees Julian, and cuts her short when she starts to protest that she can't possibly go with him into the city lest she be seen; they're going, and that's it. Julian offers no further argument.

Morgan knows something big is up. He doesn't know much about Projekt Weltuntergang--AKA Project Doomsday--headquarters, as he's not involved with that; but he does know they're located in the same building complex as Allgemeine-SS administrative headquarters. They're the ones technically in charge of all those records on private citizens. He suspects the Waffen-SS reported his info to them, and now they wish to request further info from Julian. You don't turn down a request from the Allgemeine-SS; but even more, Morgan thinks their official involvement might spell further opportunities for him. He and Julian coordinate when to visit HQ and arrive accordingly.

They're greeted by a rather overly enthusiastic person who introduces himself as Dr. Dietmar Kammler. Ingratiating, fast talking, he seems rather desperate to please, which Morgan picks up on without even trying; he both detests Kammler immediately, and decides he's an easy mark himself. Kammler explains he's the head of Projekt Weltuntergang and wished to speak with Morgan before he's seen by Allgemeine-SS authorities, thus his detour here. Realizing this is just a side visit, Morgan is quite peeved, yet hides it and grudgingly lets Kammler lead them briefly through project headquarters, pointing out various things. "I know this is over your Köpfe, er, heads," he babbles in stilted English, glancing at Julian in particular before focusing most of his attention on Morgan, "so I will, ah, make things simple, ja?" Morgan peers at Julian, and reminds himself to remind her later on to be careful of the look on her face, as her own disdain is pretty obvious by now.

Kammler reassures the impatient Morgan that they'll get to speak with the appropriate official soon, and starts talking and pacing faster. As they make a stop outside a windowed room, Julian's attention seems caught by what's going on inside; Morgan peers in and sees a large, hulking man in striped clothes, a black triangle on his shirt, seated at a table with some blocks on it; he notices them as well, and he and Julian stare at each other. Kammler just keeps yammering at Morgan, oblivious, until Julian abruptly cuts him off, asking, "Who is that man?" Both men blink at this unexpected rudeness; Kammler struggles to regain his train of thought, sees she's looking in the room, and furrows his brow. "Kolten...?" he says. "He is Versuchsperson, ah, test subject. Big success!" Julian again cuts him off before he can start babbling anew, saying, "He has a black badge, what does that mean?" Kammler seems a bit peeved by now so Morgan decides to just let Julian keep doing what she's doing since it's amusing, even if counterproductive. "Mean Versuchsperson is blöd, ah, stupid," the doctor says, "small mind, ja?--slow."

Julian then says something that catches both of them completely off guard: "Why are you wasting time on Unnütze Esser (useless eaters)?" she asks sharply, glaring at Kammler. Kammler blinks, stammers, shifts his eyes toward Morgan as if asking for help (Morgan doesn't oblige), stammers more. "Uh--pardon?" "Why are you wasting resources on him?" Julian presses, her disdain growing even as Kammler's confusion does the same. "Feeding him, housing him, keeping him alive? Doesn't this go against everything the Reich stands for? Where do you get your funding that you waste it on Unnütze Esser like this--?" Kammler clearly understands what she's asking with the word funding, as the blood drains from his face and he starts stammering even harder. "Need to try on him, others, first, before good German citizens, ja?" he explains desperately, "Still, ah, experimental, can't just use on good German subjects yet." "I'm not sure how useful this thing is if you only get it working on an idiot, and all the money it takes to care for that idiot, when good German folk are suffering," Julian says, and Kammler goes so red that Morgan finally decides he's let this go on long enough; he gently grasps Julian's shoulder, cuts her off with a murmured, "That's enough, love," and then to Dr. Kammler, "I think we've seen about enough, any word on when we can speak with the authorities?" Kammler, who'd looked ready to blow up, abruptly lets out a breath and reverts to his earlier desperate ingratiating self, promising to take them there right this minute, right away, all he asks is that they put in a good word for him, yes?--to keep the very important project running--just a good word, that's all he needs. Morgan determines that whoever it is they're going to speak with must be responsible for keeping Dr. Kammler's project running, and this tour is Kammler's attempt at securing additional funding. Any other time he would be irritated enough to get Kammler in trouble, but seeing Julian's unexpected and uncharacteristic pushback--he'd had no idea she harbored such thoughts about the disabled--was entertaining enough to mollify him, though he knows better than to let it go too far. Kammler keeps babbling as he hurries to lead them through the building and on to Allgemeine-SS administrative headquarters. He salutes and bobs his head and thanks them repeatedly as they head toward an office, exclaiming after them, "Good word, ja?--keep Weltuntergang going, good for the Reich! Good word!"

"Vulture," Julian mutters, and Morgan suppresses a chuckle. A pretty blond SS-Helferin shows them into a large office where two Allgemeine-SS officers are waiting to meet them. The one seated at the desk promptly stands and waves them forward, stepping out to greet them as well. He introduces himself as Sturmbannführer Ludolf Jäger and while apparently pleased to see them, he's much smoother and more collected than Kammler. He shakes Morgan's hand, yet when he attempts the same with Julian, she offers a stiff-armed salute--"Sieg Heil!"--instead; Jäger blinks, salutes back, then Julian does the same toward the second SS officer--"Sieg Heil!"--he too blinks, looks uncomfortable, and holds up his hand in a halfhearted salute rather than extend his arm. "Kamerad Himmel isn't big on salutes," Jäger excuses him when he decides to leave, then, "It's all right to relax a bit, Fräulein, we don't stand too much on ceremony here. I hope Herr Kammler's tour wasn't too bothersome, he begged until I gave in. Now, I've been told you have some information to share about the Americans...?"

Morgan answers a few introductory questions, then sits for a while and lets Julian handle Jäger's polite interrogation; the major pulls out a notepad and pen and jots down notes. When Julian starts describing her night with Camo he actually flushes a little and interrupts with, "Ah, you needn't offer extraneous detail on such a sensitive encounter, Fräulein!--I can simply assume how it went." He's more interested in Camo's emotional reactions to her: "Do you think he's smitten with you yet?" Julian says no, she thinks he's still hung up on his deceased wife: "I'm sure I can get to him with more time and effort, though," she adds, with a note of desperation sounding like Kammler. "Well, I'm sure you have the ability, and you know best in this situation," Jäger says, and after several more questions he sets aside his notes and stands--"That should be all for now, I'll have this information typed up and placed in Herr Camo's file; before you're seen out is there anything you'd like to ask me?" Morgan opens his mouth to tell him Dr. Kammler could probably use a dressing down for taking up their time, but to his surprise Julian speaks up first, with, "Why does your project waste time and resources on idiots?"

All the blood drains from Morgan's face, then roars right back--ears burning, he feels a burst of irrational rage. Jäger blinks, looks confused, says, "Pardon--?" "That idiot Herr Kammler is working on, with his experiment," Julian says before Morgan can speak. "He carried on like you're the one who funds it? Why waste all these resources on an idiot when they could go toward healthy citizens instead--?"

The more she talks, the less confused Jäger looks, his expression growing darker instead. Morgan whispers, a bit sharply, "Corporal." Then surreptitiously grasps her elbow and squeezes. Julian's face pinches but she cuts herself off and goes silent. "I apologize," Morgan says in response to Jäger's withering glare. "She just...got a bit caught up in that tour your doctor offered." Jäger is briefly silent, then clears his throat--"Ja, well..." He picks his notes up and tamps them into place. "You needn't concern yourself with how our project is run, we have our way of doing things and you have yours. Like I said, I'll make sure Kamerad Himmel updates Herr Camo's file, and look forward to any other information you manage to bring forward. You would like Kameradin Katja to see you back out...?" "That's all right, we'll find our own way," Morgan says, standing and making Julian stand with him. "We'll report when we have more. Thank you for your patience." Jäger nods but says nothing, obviously in a sour mood; Morgan forces himself to take a breath and bite his tongue, murmuring, "Let's go," to Julian, whose "Sieg Heil!" gets only another nod, and they depart from Jäger's office.

Morgan waits until they've reached the end of the hall and turned the corner before reacting. His hand shoots out and grips Julian by the neck, shoving her against the wall, hard; Julian gasps in surprise, then lets out the faintest squeak when Morgan squeezes, constricting her windpipe. Her eyes go wide and she grasps his arm but doesn't dig her fingernails in, he's taught her that well. Morgan leans close to look her in the eyes, his own burning.

"Never speak out of place like that again, understand?" he says under his breath, just the tiniest bite of fury in his voice. "You nearly made a fool out of me in front of him. You don't talk to them like that. You have one job, and this isn't it. Don't make me think I've misplaced my trust in you. Stay in your place. Understand...?"

The whole time Morgan talks, he tightens his grip on Julian's throat a bit more and a bit more, until she's squirming a little, her face going red and small choking noises escaping her. Her eyes flit to the side and her body tenses up; nape prickling, Morgan peers aside also. At the end of the hall, someone has just stepped around the corner and is staring at them; Captain Himmel's expression is even more hostile than Jäger's had been. Morgan promptly lets go of Julian and she gasps; "Un--understood," she murmurs shakily, rearranging her collar, "it won't happen again." Morgan gestures and she obediently follows as he continues up the hall; he glances back briefly to see Himmel continue on his way as well, though the captain's expression is definitely unfriendly. If he wants to punish Julian further he'll have to do so in private.

Morgan and Julian make a handful of visits to project headquarters to report on their progress. It's unfortunately mixed; while Julian slowly gains Camo's trust, the Trench Rat sergeant never reveals any information to her that could be considered classified. He doesn't even tell her directions to HQ despite her repeatedly staying there. Julian's frustration is evident; she's sure that by now, Camo is in love with her, yet he won't betray the Rats. "What do I do?" she begs Morgan. "Offer him anything and everything he wants," Morgan says, adding, "Everything." Julian shakes her head; before he can retort that this is her job and she'd better suck it up and get used to the idea, she says, "I already have! EVERYTHING a man could possibly want! He just...doesn't want it!" She explains that when she's subtly hinted at offering him all sorts of things--subtly, as he's not the upfront type about such matters--he's always turned her down. "Don't tell me he's into blokes too--?" Morgan exclaims in disbelief; Julian adamantly shakes her head. "He...he likes being with me just fine," she says, blushing. "But...he's....well, he's a gentleman," and she shrugs.

Morgan is skeptical--at heart, all men are alike, they all want the same thing--even the homosexual ones, just from another party--and if you offer them ANYTHING they like, they'll take it. Julian confirms, though, that Camo is not like that. Although not upfront, he's also not prudish, so it isn't merely a matter of her needing to convince him more; he just isn't interested. "Why do you think you have to do such things...?" he outright asks her at one point, and Julian pauses to think--she does such things to keep men content. "I already am," Camo says; "And what about you?" Julian has no idea how to answer that...no man has ever asked her what she wants. For the tiniest moment, there's almost a realization--here's Camo, asking her what she wants, while Morgan, the one she's in love with, has never asked her any such thing. But then the epiphany is snuffed out before it can be born; "Well then," Morgan muses, "you'll have to be blunt." "About what?" Julian asks; "You'll figure it out, I have faith in you," Morgan says. The truth is, he has no idea; Camo's behavior is an anomaly to someone like him.

Julian summons up all her nerve, and when she's alone with Camo again, she takes the risk of meekly asking why he doesn't trust her. He doesn't answer, but seems perplexed, giving her a questioning look; this is replaced by understanding as soon as she murmurs, "It's just that...in all the time I've been coming here...you've never let me know where exactly it is I've been coming." She wants to grimace, fearing she's been far too obvious, and expects him to promptly shut her down and kick her out...indeed, he shakes his head and says, "That's because I can't tell you." She shrinks in on herself and starts to gather her things--"I'll--I've overstepped, I'm sorry, I'll go now," yet Camo grasps her arm--a far gentler grasp than anything Morgan's ever done--and interjects, "No, you misunderstand. I can't tell you--you're not one of us." He explains that no one, not even their closest allies (well, except Papillon, and he found out on his own), is told the location of Headquarters--this is information that's given only to other Trench Rats. This has nothing to do with him not trusting her--he wouldn't give such info even to his own mother. Julian feels quite dumb as she says, "So...if I were a Trench Rat, you'd tell me?" To which Camo frowns and hesitantly replies, "Are...you asking for a recommendation...?"

After Julian makes hasty denials, again offering to leave (she's quite flustered by now), the two of them finally manage to understand each other: Camo says he can't make her a Trench Rat himself, but he can offer a recommendation to her superiors in the US military and her handlers in the British army. If that's what she needs, he's willing to do it; it has nothing to do with their relationship, rather, she's proven herself helpful in various ways, including their alliance with the British. Julian is so used to her worth being based solely on her use to men that she hadn't even considered she might have been useful in other ways. When Camo adds that this process involves a recommendation from Drake as well, she's just about certain her chances are shot, and she can't even tell him why without arousing suspicion; yet not long after, one of her British handlers calls her in to inform her of an important change in her circumstances. She's to give up her private quarters at their outpost, and her permanent residency there is revoked; she's now officially merely a guest. Julian goes white, thinking something dreadful has happened; yet the British officer, noticing her expression, exclaims, "What are you so upset about, Corporal?--you're moving up in the world, didn't you hear? Or can't they bother to spare you a room at Trench Rat Headquarters...?"

Here it is, the culmination of all Julian's and Morgan's efforts: She is now officially a Trench Rat. The changeover is so abrupt it's like a footnote; she doesn't have the chance to visit Morgan and inform him before a Trench Rat arrives to drive her back with him. "Not needed, ma'am," he says when she asks about her blindfold and headphones, and rather than sit in the back of the truck as is customary, she sits up front with him. Her stomach in knots the entire time. She stares out the windows the entirety of the lengthy drive and takes mental note--the best she can, at least, considering how overwhelmed she is--of all the scenery and landmarks that go by. They drive into the woods and finally approach a gate, well concealed from above, and are let in by the guards outside. A little distance more, and they pull up before more guards and the driver gets out while a guard assists Julian. She belatedly notices a semi-concealed entryway nearby; going inside, saluting more guards, the two start to descend into the earth. The majority of Trench Rat Headquarters is located beneath the ground, something Julian had already been able to guess based on her previous descents, but this is the first time she sees where it is she entered from. They enter a main artery of the underground tunnel complex and Camo and Drake are both waiting. Camo is aloof as usual as he is in public, though Drake offers a smile, which Julian didn't expect. Camo excuses himself as he has work elsewhere to attend to; he congratulates her and says he'll see her soon. Julian's anxiety returns at being left in Drake's company, but all he does is gesture for her to follow him to the mess hall.

Drake: "They're serving lunch right now. I suppose I owe you some congratulations!"

Julian: "Thank you, it's an unbelievable honor being allowed in here."

Drake: "No more allowing, you're one of us now. I imagine it'll take some getting used to, but ask anyone for assistance and I'm sure they'll help out."

Julian: *tentatively* "Corporal Drake...I...I still feel I need to apologize for...ah..."

Drake: *shakes head, stops to hold open the door to the mess hall* "Bygones."

Julian: "I thought perhaps you wouldn't offer a recommendation...and I wouldn't have blamed you, considering."

Drake: "No point dwelling. In any case it's like Camo said, you've done a lot for us already, it'd be foolish to be petty. We can always use a helpful hand. Ham and cheese sandwiches and barley soup today, unless you'd like something else."

Julian: "That's fine, thank you." *Drake fetches her tray & hands it to her; they retreat to a table & sit*

Drake: "It does mean you're going to have to choose your assignment here. Lots of things to pick from."

Julian: "Goodness, I didn't even consider. I have no idea."

Drake: "Well...they always need help in the medical ward, if you have a strong stomach. We have tons of records that always need going through, and never enough eyes to go through them. And if you know anything about electronics at all, D-Day could use an assistant wiring the rest of the complex."

Julian: "D-Day?"

Drake: "Lance Corporal Doomsday. Ah...he asks to be called D-Day instead...obvious reasons."

Julian: "Oh...of course." *pulls sandwich in half* "I can learn about electronics...but I worry I might cause offense. I have no idea how I'd talk to him."

Drake: "You talk to him like anyone else. And don't worry too much, it takes a lot to offend him. I think he'd appreciate the help a lot more. Anyway, you have a day or so to choose, so it's no rush."

Julian: "Oh. You didn't pick up anything to eat."

Drake: "It's all right, I'm not staying long. I can have someone show you to D-Day if you'd like to introduce yourself."

Julian: "Still--" *holds up half of the sandwich* "You'd like some--? I don't mind." *Drake shakes his head* "Really, it's a bit much for me. You're sure...?"

Drake: "I...can't eat that. You can wrap it up to go, if you'd like."

Julian feels a sudden tiny twinge, blushes, withdraws the sandwich and fights the urge to apologize again. For a few moments she'd actually forgotten who it is she's talking to, yet she catches a glimpse of what Drake's wearing--a tiny Star of David necklace--and thinks, of course he can't share her lunch. Not that she's inclined to share it anymore anyway; she withdraws a little bit, putting up her wall. Drake seems to sense this, as his friendly expression falters just a little, then she senses him putting up his own wall as well--he actually pushes his chair back a fraction. An uneasy chill settles over them both. "Well..." he says, and now has to force an awkward half-smile, "I'll send someone along to your quarters with info on how to get in touch with D-Day, if you'd like. You're still in the same place." Julian nods and he gets up, though before he can go she manages to offer a stilted thank you for the recommendation; she still isn't sure why he gave her one. Drake's smile is a bit less forced as he replies, "It's no problem, you earned it," and excuses himself. Julian shoves down her confused feelings, tells herself to be on her guard--surely a crafty Jew has his reasons for letting her in here--and eats her lunch alone.

She can't believe her luck when she's introduced to LC Doomsday not long after. She's heard of him, although they've never directly interacted; he's the big success story of Projekt Weltuntergang, who was liberated by the Trench Rats upon their arrival. Her feelings about him are the exact opposite of those about Drake. Doomsday ("Just D-Day, ma'am," he says when she refers to him by his longer name) is Aryan, and quite intelligent as well as physically strong due to the experiment he took part in. Julian actually blushes while he chatters at her about the wiring and electronics, feeling a bit of a crush. Engineering really isn't her thing, she just figured her best opportunity to get a good look at the layout of HQ and how it all works would be in his company. So she tries hard to shake off her infatuation and pay close attention when D-Day starts showing her around and explaining things. D-Day was once intended to serve as the Nazis' superweapon, only for the Trench Rats to thwart this; now, Julian hopes to utilitize him in a different way. She finds herself inspired; surely the future of Weltuntergang should depend on more subjects like him--not dullards like Kolten. She makes another mental note. She should really write a letter or two.

She spends all her time at Trench Rat Headquarters memorizing the layout of the complex the best she can, and reports this information back to Morgan whenever she visits the British outpost to keep them up to date. Morgan beams and chucks her under the chin--"Excellent work as ever, love," he coos--and Julian blushes with pleasure. The Waffen-SS gradually collects the info Julian and Morgan provide and puts together a rough map not just of the Trench Rat complex but of its location relative to other landmarks, such as trenches dug by the Rats, and the exact way to get there. Morgan receives word from an informant that the discovery of this information in SS hands can easily be pinned on an American captive, a Trench Rat named Teal, who was captured when D-Day was freed; he's already suspected of turning on the Rats and providing intel to the Nazis, so the location and layout of HQ can be laid at his feet as well. Morgan asks if Teal actually has turned; maybe he could be a source. The informant replies no--Teal hasn't turned on his own. Morgan can't help but feel vague amusement at the irony that he's completely innocent yet can serve as the perfect scapegoat, anyway.

The SS soon plans to stage an attack on Trench Rat Headquarters; the Wehrmacht will do the heavy lifting, bombing HQ's main complex from above, while positioning soldiers near the exits to capture anyone who escapes; meanwhile, other troops will target the outlying Trench Rat companies in a massive coordinated attack. Julian is expected to be present at HQ when this happens. For this reason, the SS doesn't inform Morgan of any of this, lest he tell Julian and possibly compromise things. Still, Morgan and Julian can both easily surmise that SOME sort of assault is incoming, they just don't know how or when. So when a giant blast suddenly strikes a western portion of the tunnel complex one day, Julian is a bit less surprised than everyone else. Within moments more blasts start raining down and the Trench Rats inside the complex start racing for the exits. Julian ends up with Camo and Drake and the three of them make a stumbling run for it; while trying to shield her head from falling debris, she notices Drake, just in front of them, pulling his pistol. He'll attempt to provide cover for the other two on the way out. Julian doesn't dwell on this thought; all she can think of, aside from trying to stay alive, is meeting up with Morgan again once the Trench Rats are wiped out. (Well, she rather hopes D-Day is captured alive.) This will certainly be considered their greatest success, and she knows he'll be proud of her.

Morgan, safely back among the British on a mission, learns of the attack only belatedly. Radiotelegraph operators at the outpost start receiving SOS messages requesting aid; the location of HQ is telegraphed, to their surprise, which indicates the situation must be dire indeed. Morgan's unit, out in the field, is located and informed by a scout who arrives breathlessly on foot. They head back to the outpost, but the situation is pure chaos by the time they get there--EVERYONE has been caught completely unawares by the attack--so Morgan himself is never sent out to provide assistance. He remains at the outpost, pacing his quarters and smoking and wondering how it's all playing out. He hates not being in the loop of the very thing he helped plan.

As the time draws out, he starts getting a bit nervous. He still hasn't heard anything from Julian, and although preliminary reports say the assault was a tentative success, details are lacking. The hours pass. Word trickles in. Massive, though not complete, damage to Trench Rat Headquarters; deaths are estimated to be in the scores if not hundreds, and at least an entire wing of the complex was destroyed, and many of the escaping Rats gunned down, before their own forces began to rally. The attacks simultaneously launched against the outlying companies were significantly less successful; one company fought off the attack with minimal casualties, while another managed to escape ambush completely. Early estimates suggest a quarter to a third of the Rats were killed or captured before they rallied enough to fight back; some of the retreating German forces were additionally picked off by partisans who'd been alerted to the situation. All in all, it went somewhat better even than they'd hoped it would--especially when the rumor spreads that the Trench Rat sergeant and corporals, Camo, Drake, and Julian, have been captured alive. If the Germans can break them under torture, they could prove to be immensely useful. Morgan allows himself to feel a twinge of relief--and satisfaction--that all his hard work has finally come to fruition. He relaxes and waits for further news.

Some time later, a British contact arrives, tells him his presence has been requested by a handler; he's provided with an excuse and an escort and leaves. He's transported to a tiny camp set up in the woods, where a handful of Wehrmacht soldiers is stationed, an SS officer among them. As soon as he arrives, Morgan starts to feel uneasy...he can tell by his uniform and insignia that he's with the Allgemeine-SS, not the Waffen-SS, who Morgan reports to. He has no reason to be speaking with this guy. After confirming his identity, Morgan asks what's going on. The officer responds by saying, "Did you have any hand in Kamerad Himmel's actions?" Morgan furrows his brow--"Who?"--he's already forgotten the name. "Hauptsturmführer Himmel," the officer says, "did you have any hand in his actions?"--barely even a question this time.

Morgan: "I have no idea what you're talking about. What's going on? I don't know any Captain Himmel. I thought I was going to be updated on Corporal Julian."

Officer: "You confirm that you are Fräulein Julian's handler?"

Morgan: *piqued* "Of course I confirm I'm her handler, I've been handling her for months now! You lot all know that!"

Officer: "Do not raise your voice with me, Herr Morgan. So you confirm you are aware of Fräulein Julian's position."

Morgan: "Yes, I'm aware. I trained her. What is this? Where is she? She got out of HQ, right?--so when do I get to talk to her?"

Officer: "You are unaware of the events that just occurred?"

Morgan: "What events? I know of the attack on HQ, is that what you mean?"

Officer: "This is not the event of which I'm speaking. So you confirm you had no hand in it."

Morgan: *raising voice* "If you'd tell me what the F**K it is you're talking about--"

Officer: "Fräulein Julian has been summarily executed."

Morgan: *blood draining from his face* "...What...?"

Morgan is unaware that a massive chain of events was set in motion that day so long back when he and Julian were invited to visit Projekt Weltuntergang headquarters, when Julian couldn't bear to hold her tongue before the Allgemeine-SS. He's been expecting some sort of retribution from Major Jäger ever since she mouthed off at him: Despite his middling rank, Morgan knows he wields an immense amount of power and influence in the SS, and it was exactly as he warned her--you don't talk to them like that. This, though...he was not expecting this. His shock only grows, however, upon being informed that Jäger apparently has nothing to do with it. Julian offended someone else far more that day.

Let's rewind and switch POV.

It's the day following the fated visit. Captain Himmel heads to the Projekt Weltuntergang labs the way he does every day. He's Major Jäger's head secretary, but he's also the project supervisor, meaning his observations and reports made back to Jäger determine whether the project continues to receive funding or not--Jäger holds the purse strings, just as Morgan guessed. Yet Himmel has a third reason for being there. He stops by the observation room where Dr. Kammler's test subject, Kolten, spends his days, sees him seated within building with his blocks, and enters. Kolten peers up as Himmel approaches his table; noticing his look, Himmel smiles, and his typical dour mood lightens.

Himmel: "Hallo, Kolten." *sits down across from him*

Kolten: "Hallo, Herr Hauptsturmführer."

Himmel: "What have you been up to since yesterday...?"

Kolten: "There is Hohenzollern Castle, but I've only just started it."

Himmel: "Have you made any new drawings?"

Kolten: *pulls over a large sketchbook & meekly hands it over*

Himmel: *slowly flipping through the sketches of buildings & random people* *smiles to himself* "Excellent work as always, Kolten." *flips to a sketch of Liam Morgan & Anna Julian; his smile vanishes* *pause* "Kolten..." *lifts the sketchbook to show him the drawing* "Who are these people?"

Kolten: *shrugs* "I do not know their names."

Himmel: "But you've seen them before, ja?" *Kolten nods* "Where? When?"

Kolten: "Yesterday. Doktor-Vater brought them with him. I think he was taking them on a..." *trails off, frowning* "What is it called, when you show people a place...?"

Himmel: "Tour?"

Kolten: *looking skyward* "'Tour.'"

Himmel: "Did he say why?"

Kolten: *looking at Himmel* "He did not tell me, but I heard him say to the man and woman to put in a good word for him." *looks skyward, starts speaking rapidly in broken English* "'Good word, ja?--keep Weltuntergang going, good for the Reich! Good word!'" *lowers his head & peers at Himmel uncertainly* "Are...are they going to come back, Herr Hauptsturmführer...?"

Himmel: *frowns* "I don't know, Kolten, why?"

Kolten: *meekly* "I...do not like the woman, she frightens me. I do not think she likes me."

Himmel: "Why do you say this?"

Kolten: "The man did not say much but the woman talked to Doktor-Vater...she asked about me and she seemed mad. She did not like my Winkel." *puts his hand over his black badge*

Himmel: "What do you mean, she was angry? About your triangle? Why?"

Kolten: "I think she did not know I could hear her. But she got mad at Doktor-Vater when he told her what der Winkel means. She said..." *looks upward, starts speaking loudly in English* "'Why are you wasting time on Unnütze Esser? Why are you wasting resources on him? Feeding him, housing him, keeping him alive? Doesn't this go against everything the Reich stands for? Where do you get your funding that you waste it on Unnütze Esser like this--? I'm not sure how useful this thing is if you only get it working on an idiot, and all the money it takes to care for that idiot, when good German folk are suffering!'"

Himmel: *says nothing, though his facial expression is growing more & more unpleasant*

Kolten: *meekly* "You...you will not let them come look at me again, will you, Herr Hauptsturmführer...? The woman frightens me. She talks like the men in skull-hats. I promise I'll be good."

Himmel: "I won't let her bother you again, Kolten, I promise."

Kolten: "Have I disappointed you...? You seem angry."

Himmel: "You haven't disappointed me, nein. I'm not angry with you. "

Kolten: "I'm sorry I am useless, if I could do something I would."

Himmel: *leans forward* "Kolten, listen to me. You are not useless, and you could never disappoint me. And I promise you don't need to worry about these people bothering you again. I'll keep you safe, I swear. You believe me?"

Kolten: *staring down* "All right."

Himmel: "I promise, Kolten." *stands up* "I have to go early, I'm sorry I can't stay." *pause* "Kolten...may I have the drawing of the man and the woman, bitte?"

Kolten: *tears out the page & hands it to him* *pauses while Himmel stares at it* "You like my drawing...?"

Himmel: "I like all of your drawings. I'm going to show this one to a friend." *puts it away* "While I'm gone, how about you make some more drawings? And work on Hohenzollern? I'd like very much to see it when I come back."

Kolten: "You want more drawings of the man and the woman...?"

Himmel: "Nein, this is good enough...in fact, how about you make sure not to draw these two again? And if Doktor-Vater asks you about them, pretend you did not hear what they said about you. It can be our secret, all right...?"

Himmel lowers his voice conspiratorially as he requests a little white lie--Kolten is painfully honest, his disability making it nearly impossible for him to be otherwise. Framing it as a special secret, almost a game, makes it easier--Kolten DOES know how to lie by omission, and he's done so many times, at Himmel's request. Despite his status as Kammler's test subject, there's a lot Kammler doesn't know. Kolten responds to the request by making a buttoning gesture at his lip--a gesture Himmel taught him. Himmel smiles, returns the gesture. "You will come to see me tomorrow...?" Kolten asks a bit anxiously, as if sensing big events are in motion; "Of course I will," Himmel replies, and Kolten visibly relaxes. "Tschüss, and be good," Himmel says; "Tschüss, I will," Kolten promises, and Himmel leaves.

He heads for the administrative offices where he works, having to force himself to not start stomping, fighting to keep his breathing even and politely greet the other workers he crosses. In truth, he's infuriated, as well as terrified, and digs his fingernails into his palms hard enough to hurt to prevent himself from punching anybody. Himmel isn't a violent person--despite his service in the Imperial German Army and then in the SS, he prefers to work from a desk and keep to himself, brushing off all the jeers about being a glorified secretary--but this news, and especially the American woman's speech, has him rattled like little else. He goes to speak with his boss, Major Jäger.

"The cheek of that woman!" Jäger exclaims when Himmel broaches the subject; he chatters as he arranges his office plants. "Lecturing me like that! Ah that's right, you missed it, but goodness, the nerve. Utterly humiliated that man she was with, if the color he went was any indication. Luckily for her I'm a bit more tolerant of such things, though I imagine he set her straight once they left! Anyway, what was it you wanted to ask about...?"

Himmel remembers what he saw in the hallway after he left Jäger's office--the British man pinning the woman against the wall by her neck--and realizes now what exactly he was witnessing. "I was wondering their specific reason for visiting," he says, trying not to sound too eager for information.

Jäger: "They were providing information for our files, but you know this already, you typed it up, ja?"

Himmel: "The information on the Trench Rats? That came from them?"

Jäger: "Ja, the Waffen-SS is helping to collect some intel. Nothing you need to concern yourself with too much."

Himmel: "But, why then did they visit Weltuntergang headquarters, as well? This is unrelated to the personal intel, is it not...?"

Jäger: "Ah, that was Herr Kammler's request. He would've nagged my ear off if I hadn't let them. Still thinks he needs recommendations from anyone and everyone to get his precious funding."

Himmel: "Why would that woman be talking about Unnütze Esser if all she's here for is to spy on the Trench Rat sergeant...? What business does she have with such matters?"

Jäger: *pauses; slowly turns to face him, frowning* "How did you know about that...?"

Himmel: "She spoke about it right in front of Kolten. After asking about his badge. She was talking about him." *shows him Kolten's drawing; Jäger furrows his brow* *pause* "You already knew about this...?" *Jäger looks uneasy* "Why did you not tell me?"

Jäger: "Frankly, Kamerad, it's because this is none of your concern. The same as Weltuntergang is none of her concern."

Himmel: "None of my concern--? This is very much my concern! The words that woman said in front of Kolten! He's not stupid, he knows exactly what she means. Whatever her business is, she's gotten herself involved."

Jäger: "She's a nobody and will be put in her place."

Himmel: *scowling* "You promised me you would protect him. Especially from our own!"

Jäger: "And I meant it! I'm telling you, Kamerad, you needn't worry about her, she'll have nothing to do with Kolten."

Himmel: "You gave me your word. I'm holding you to it. But if she harms one hair on his head..."

*Himmel & Jäger glare at each other*

Jäger: "What then, Kamerad...?"

Himmel: *pause* "If he were one of your children, you'd understand."

Jäger puffs up defensively but says nothing; the look on his face makes it clear enough for Himmel to leave, having worn out his welcome.

Himmel has no reason to disbelieve Jäger's words, but knows that Jäger answers to others he might not agree with, and has his own priorities which don't include Kolten. He decides to be proactive. He seeks out a member of the Waffen-SS for whom he once did a favor, and although he dislikes quid pro quos, he asks if the favor might be returned. He shows him Kolten's drawing; the officer identifies Liam Morgan as one of their own, and he doesn't know the woman's name but he assumes Morgan turned her too. What about them? He's puzzled when Himmel mentions Projekt Weltuntergang--"They don't have anything to do with that"--and is even more perplexed when Himmel asks him to let him know should the woman ever engage in any sort of activity related to the project. Still, he promises to get back to Himmel if he hears anything, and agrees to tell no one else about the request. Himmel can do nothing else in the meantime but continue to visit Kolten, and wait.

It isn't too long before the Waffen-SS officer visits Himmel with an envelope in his hand; he looks furtive and uneasy when he hands it over. He says that as far as he's aware, this is the only copy of this particular letter in existence, but that doesn't mean there aren't similar letters he simply doesn't know about. "Now, I hope our debt is settled," he adds; taking the hint that he's risking quite a lot passing along the letter, Himmel assures him they're even, thanks him, and he leaves. Himmel waits until he's alone in his apartment at night to open and read the letter. It's addressed to a Waffen-SS official and signed by Corporal Anna Julian, and isn't on any official letterhead, so he assumes she wrote this to send in a private capacity. Himmel goes cold as he reads the brief letter, which is an appeal on Julian's part to assess Projekt Weltuntergang's use of disabled persons. She makes the same argument she made to Dr. Kammler and then to Jäger, that results that apply to mental defectives won't necessarily apply the same to the mentally sound, and that feeding, housing, and caring for idiots (Himmel steams more and more as he reads this language) is in direct conflict with the principles of the Reich. Surely, terminating such subjects as quickly as possible, and finding suitable volunteers to take their place, is the best course of action.

Himmel re-folds the letter and sits a moment or two to collect himself. This one will never reach its destination, but Julian likely wrote others, and given how persistent she seems, he doesn't doubt she'll just keep at it until she gets a response. The fact that she signed her name to the letter, as an American soldier still ostensibly serving the Americans, shows she has little concern about potential consequences; it's possible even that Morgan is unaware of what she's up to. She sounds every bit like a budding fanatic, and Himmel knows that if he wants to ensure Kolten's safety, he'll need to take drastic action.

He gets his chance when news breaks of the attack on Trench Rat Headquarters. A radiotelegraph reaches the SS, stating that the Trench Rat leadership has been successfully captured--this was a goal all along, nothing strange there--though caught alive along with them is a third party. None are referred to by their actual names in the message, but Himmel knows that the first two substitute names refer to Camo and Drake, and he makes a reasoned guess at the third. All three are to be handed into SS custody for interrogation. Himmel takes advantage of the chaos surrounding the situation--although the broader attack was largely a failure, the attack on HQ itself was even more successful than anyone expected it to be, catching its participants by surprise--and volunteers to do the initial questioning. Any other time, this would be seen as odd--not only because it'd be far more appropriate for the Waffen-SS to do the initial interrogation (the Allgemeine-SS is expected to get involved later), but because Himmel is definitely not the one who would be expected to be involved. He's a clerical worker, and isn't particularly known for his interrogation technique or his ability to be intimidating--although he can hold his own well enough, he's more of a background figure who goes largely unnoticed. So him volunteering for intake interrogation raises a few eyebrows, yet everything is going way too fast for anyone to question his motives, and the job is handed to him. Maybe if someone had gotten the word to Jäger first, he might have asked what's up, but nobody notifies him, and I doubt even he would've predicted what happens next.

Himmel makes sure he's in order and hurries to the temporary area set up where Camo, Drake, and the third party he hopes is Julian will be brought. He doesn't have long to prepare or to wait before several Wehrmacht soldiers drag the three in; their wrists are restrained behind their backs, they're somewhat battered and mussed from the initial attack, but they're otherwise relatively fine. They're hauled into a row and shoved down onto their knees--Sergeant Camo to Himmel's right, Corporal Drake in the middle, and--as he'd assumed--Corporal Julian on the left. Himmel briefly studies their faces as one of the soldiers barks orders in broken English. Julian looks frightened--a detail that just pisses Himmel off even further, as he knows she's acting, being an SS operative she has no reason to be afraid--she remains in character to the end. Drake's been roughed up somewhat--his Star of David is in plain sight, and Himmel doesn't doubt the soldiers took the opportunity to knock him around a little on the way there--and looks wary and uneasy. Camo looks openly defiant, and when Himmel makes eye contact he's sure the sergeant would murder him if he could get his hands on him. This is the third time they've come face to face: They saw each other once as soldiers fighting in the trenches in the Great War, then again they caught a glimpse of each other from afar at the start of this war. Himmel has read Camo's file and feels he knows him well; all Camo knows about Himmel is that he's apparently had a hand in things here for a long time, and he doesn't like him. Himmel showing up now in an SS uniform and with a swastika on his arm just confirms his feelings.

The handful of Wehrmacht soldiers stand aside as Himmel looks from one captive to the next, makes a few vaguely threatening comments, paces in front of them. None of them say anything in response. Aside from him not actually peppering them with questions as he should be, nothing about the situation looks particularly unusual or noteworthy, and the soldiers stop paying too close attention; even when Himmel unholsters his pistol and starts aiming it at each of them, finally stopping in front of Corporal Drake with the barrel pointed at his forehead, they merely snicker a little--a dead Jew is a dead Jew, no biggie to them--and resume their muted chattering. Drake shuts his eyes. Himmel stares down at him for a few seconds, then swings his arm left and fires. Corporal Julian's eyes go wide--the bullet enters her forehead, bursts out the back of her skull, and she topples over, blood rapidly pooling around her.

The Wehrmacht troops stop chattering with a collective gasp, eyes goggling. Everything else happens a split second later, all at once.

Himmel's heart skips a beat and he feels his lungs constrict so he can't breathe, ringing filling his ears. Julian stares up at the ceiling, the bit of light in her eyes flickering out. "Corporal Julian--!" Drake yells, scrabbling toward her on his knees--"Anna, Anna!!"--leaning over her but unable to do anything else with his hands restrained. A soldier hurries forward, rifle butt raised over Drake's head. Himmel opens his mouth to order him--then blinks. Camo's surged to his feet and, also yelling, launches himself straight at Himmel. His helmet cracks against Himmel's forehead and stars burst all around him as he falls back and hits the ground hard, grunting in pain and surprise.

He's stunned senseless for a moment, blinking and shaking his head; the stars disappear and he sees double for another few seconds before the full pain of the blow strikes him and he grimaces and clasps his hands to his nose, which is already streaming blood. Blood trickles into his eye as well, stinging and blurring his vision--a blink or two later and he sees a couple of soldiers beating Camo back down with their rifles. He stares a second, looks toward Drake--the other soldier cracks him in the head a second(?) time with his rifle butt and raises it a third time even though Drake looks plainly unconscious already--then looks back to where the soldiers are still pummeling Camo. This all takes place in a mere handful of seconds that feels like forever. Himmel pushes himself up, stumbles unsteadily--tries yelling at the top of his voice, which isn't very loud at all, "Nein! Stop!" Manages to shove back one of the soldiers beating Camo--"Stop!"--then knocks aside the rifle of the one beating Drake--"Stop it! Gather them up and get them back to headquarters! Schnell!"

The soldiers look confused, yet obey; they drag away the unconscious Drake and the half-conscious Camo, then one of them hauls Julian up by the arms--Himmel's seen plenty of gore before yet has to look away--and coughs uncertainly, saying, "Herr Hauptsturmführer...? What do you want me to do with her...?" Himmel instructs him to follow the others--somebody at HQ will figure out what to do--then advises him that somebody else will likely seek him and the others out soon for questioning. "What do you want me to tell them?" the soldier asks; Himmel frowns and says, "The truth, of course." The soldier turns--Julian's head lolls and her arms swing limp--and strides away. Himmel manages to wait until they're gone before throwing up, then sits and waits for someone to come fetch him. It doesn't take long before several Waffen-SS troops arrive with grim faces; Himmel holds out his arms. "Could you pass along a message for me, bitte?" he asks as he's cuffed. "Tell Doktor Kammler to tell Kolten that I won't be able to come see him for a while, something important's come up. And that I'm sorry."

Dr. Kammler watches in surprise as the Trench Rats are paraded past his area, then Corporal Julian's body is brought for autopsy. An officer delivers Himmel's message and Kammler brings it to Kolten. "I'm sure it'll get settled," he says when Kolten lowers his head gloomily. "Sometimes things happen."

Himmel meanwhile ends up in a small room where a Waffen-SS official tersely tells him, "Probably best if you keep quiet till we get in touch with your superiors." Pushing down his dread, Himmel replies (in a nasal voice that makes him cringe), "They have nothing to do with it, I acted alone." "Still," the official mutters, "keep your mouth shut till then," and leaves. Himmel puts his hands to his throbbing nose, curses his life, and waits again.

Some time passes, the door opens again and footsteps approach, stopping in front of him. "Kamerad--?" a voice says sharply; Himmel winces, peers up. Major Jäger has never looked so tall and looming; he blinks, then stormclouds form in his eyes. "What happened to his face--?" he demands of the officer next to him, his voice starting to rise dangerously. "We had nothing to do with it," the officer protests, and Himmel mumbles, "He's telling the truth, the Trench Rat did this." Jäger lets his breath out of his nose and barks, "Get him some ICE!" so the officer scurries away. He sits down and glares until the soldier returns with ice wrapped in a towel; Jäger hands it over and Himmel winces again as he presses it against his nose. Then winces even further when Jäger launches into a barely articulate tirade. At the heart of his gesticulating and ranting, though, is confusion--why would Himmel, passive unimposing Himmel, do something like this, something so unlike him? Himmel reiterates that he did it for Kolten, and shows Jäger the letter Julian wrote. "I guarantee you, there are other letters much like this one," Himmel says. Yet when he tries to convince Jäger of the seriousness of the situation, his boss hesitates.

Jäger: "Still, Kamerad, this aside...you don't go EXECUTING people! Especially our own! I just can't believe you'd be so reckless."

Himmel: "Reckless! After what she did! What should I have done? Tell me that."

Jäger: "Not THIS! You report it and let it go through proper channels! This mission wasn't your business and you had no legitimate grounds to take such action."

Himmel: "And how long would proper channels take while this woman is sending out her letters? You say this is none of my business. Weltuntergang is none of HER business! Yet she made it so, didn't she--? Where were her proper channels?"

Jäger: "You have no idea the amount of time and money it took to turn this person, Kamerad, or the damage you've done."

Himmel: *seething* "DAMAGE! Read her letter and tell me again about DAMAGE! Go ahead and take the money out of my salary. Demote me. Put me in a jail cell! All they need for their precious asset!"

Jäger: "That's not how this works--"

Himmel: "I see exactly how it works, and how it works is nobody looks out for Kolten. You said you would. Proper channels? Are you telling me you'd stand up to them?--you'd speak back--?" *Jäger hesitates; Himmel's eyes narrow* "I didn't think so. Nobody else was going to do anything until it was too late. All she needed was one person, one person looking at her letter and stopping to think about it. And while I'm caught up going through the PROPER CHANNELS, Kolten is being liquidated." *voice cracks* "Go ahead and punish me. I don't care what happens to me as long as Kolten is safe."

Jäger: *stands up* *muttering* "I'm owed a few favors...I suppose I can call them in now. I'm not going to be able to shield you from every consequence though, Kamerad. This is serious."

Himmel: "I'm not asking for your help. I'm willing to face consequences. My only concern is looking out for Kolten...since no one else will."

Himmel gives Jäger a withering glare before he leaves, flustered by the captain's out-of-character violence. He goes to speak with Waffen-SS leadership and plead Himmel's case. The Waffen-SS officials are quite disgruntled by the loss of such a useful asset, but Jäger is a smooth talker, quite persuasive, and points out Himmel's own usefulness to the SS (he oversees Projekt Weltuntergang, as well as helps type up and organize a good number of the SS files). One officer protests but the others soon override him; "Well, we got what we needed most out of her," one muses, "I doubt she would've been much more useful anyway. Just another person to pay and mouth to feed. Seeing how easily she turned on her own, who's to say she wouldn't have done the same to us further down the line? Frankly, we're probably better off without. The Allies are scattered, that's what counts. We can always recruit another asset."

And just like that, Corporal Julian is relegated to a footnote, easily and readily expended...a casualty of the exact same argument she'd so passionately made regarding Kolten and his sort. An official confronts Himmel and says with a glare that since he can't escape entirely unpunished, he'll go without pay and be relegated to deskwork for a month. "I already work from a desk," Himmel says, confused; the official steams a little and says, "Well then, you'll go out and work in the field for a month!" Himmel (who's been doing deskwork since the end of the Great War) sulks while Jäger thanks the Waffen-SS profusely for their generosity. "You could have kept your mouth shut, Kamerad, and escaped punishment," Jäger points out, but Himmel reiterates--"I don't care about the punishment, I care only about Kolten"--and goes to visit with him once more before swapping out his black work uniform and cap for a gray field uniform and helmet, and grudgingly accepts his new temporary assignment.

He hardly has a thought to spare for the other party involved...Liam Morgan. Once Morgan gets over his initial shock at hearing of Julian's death, and answers a barrage of questions about his role in it ("I had no idea she was engaged in such behavior," he says, one of the few times he's honest, "I'd've reined her in, had I known"), he does his best to lie low while trying to figure out what exactly happened. He has a few contacts of his own and soon enough learns of Julian's letter-writing campaign. That she acted behind his back is bad enough; it's the Very Big Mistake she made, targeting Kolten in specific, that makes Morgan start fuming with fury. Morgan can't figure out why a piddling, mild-tempered secretary would get so invested in an idiot as to risk prison; then he gets a look at Kolten's Weltuntergang file. Takes him a bit to find it as it's under H, not K. H for HIMMEL, KOLTEN. Kolten might be an idiot, but he's still Himmel's son. "Stupid f**king c**t," Morgan mutters. Not only was Himmel just looking out for family, but it seems Kolten may be protected by certain other parties as well...Julian just happened to pick a fight with the Allgemeine-SS, a force far more powerful than herself. Morgan is surprised to feel a twinge of regret; he'd grown a bit fond of Julian's fawning company. He quickly brushes this off, though--he's never had any time or motivation for love--and like the Waffen-SS he thinks, well, at least she did her part, it's no big loss. The only ones who end up truly mourning Julian's death are Camo and Drake, the two people she hated most.

The Waffen-SS decides Morgan himself is a bit redundant--now that the location of Trench Rat Headquarters is known, and their leadership captured, his role turning others to spy on them is no longer very necessary--and he's relegated back to just casual intel gathering. He steams over this--he'd rather hoped for a promotion--but there's nothing really to be done. He does allow himself a snicker when Camo shortly after escapes custody (it turns out with Himmel's unknown assistance), and feels a measure of schadenfreude when the Trench Rats just bring in a new sergeant and corporal and start rebuilding Headquarters. He's sure that if he'd been kept on things, the SS would've kept the upper hand; yet they decided he wasn't needed anymore, so he figures they deserve whatever losses they take. There's really no loyalty among any of these people. Well. Except between Himmel and Kolten.

Morgan fades into the background as the war goes on. He guesses that the less obtrusive he is, the greater his chances of survival. And indeed, even as the tide turns, the SS struggles to maintain control, and the Allies gain the upper hand, he keeps a step ahead of everyone. At some point I believe he defects from the British military to serve directly in the Waffen-SS, though his German counterparts never truly trust him, so he's left in the rather precarious situation of not really belonging anywhere. But Morgan's used to being on his own. When the Third Reich topples, he runs and he hides. He falls off the map for a year or so (throughout the events of Ultima Thule) before making the mistake of heading further east, toward the USSR. His chances likely would've been better had he headed west, but he overestimates his ability to remain unnoticed, and is soon captured by the Soviets. They've been hunting down suspected escaped SS members since the war ended, and despite Morgan's protests to the contrary, they know exactly who he is. For him, just as for his former protégé Julian, there'll be no trial. He's beaten and tortured by the Communists just like he once was by the Nazis and at last he offers to tell them anything they want to know. His primary interrogator informs him that he's going to be executed whether he spills or not; Morgan says he knows, he'll tell them what they want anyway, just give him a little time to pull himself together. He has one request, though. He asks if it's possible for them to track down the Trench Rat sergeant and corporal, Camo and Drake. He wants to set the record straight while he has the chance.

The Soviets get on the radiotelegraph and ask around a little. They return to inform him that Drake, following his rescue from captivity, departed for France and is unlikely to return soon. Sergeant Camo is still in Germany, and when they tell him they have Liam Morgan in custody, he agrees to the Soviets' request to come.

Morgan is in poor shape when Camo arrives. He's told of his visitor and can barely lift his head and peer up at him through his one good eye. He and Camo have never met, and know each other only by reputation. Near the war's end, both Captain Himmel and Dr. Kammler were captured by the Trench Rats, while Drake and another Trench Rat captive, Teal Rat, were rescued; Teal snapped and, in a rage, killed Kammler (who'd tortured both him and Drake), then himself. Given how long Teal had been in Nazi custody, and his status as a special detainee, he was widely regarded as the leak who revealed the location of Trench Rat Headquarters to the Germans; before committing suicide, he denied this, though he did seem pretty guilty. Himmel, meanwhile, promised to tell the Rats everything he knew about Projekt Weltuntergang if they would take him to see Kolten, who'd been liberated by the Rats some time previously. The Rats were perplexed by this request, yet it seemed harmless enough, so they granted it. Himmel's and Kolten's relationship was finally revealed and Himmel kept his promise to tell everything. Among the most shocking of the details he gave was that Teal Rat was indeed innocent of betraying his fellow Rats; that had been Corporal Julian. Despite her odd actions, especially toward Drake, nobody had ever suspected her. Himmel explained how she was turned by another SS operative named Liam Morgan, whom he was pretty sure was her lover, while Teal took the blame.

Camo could never quite bring himself to believe this story. Even after Himmel testified under oath at his trial, and Drake was convinced, Camo stood by his belief that Julian had at the very least been set up. He continued despising Himmel after he was set free and helped the former Allies at the Alpine Fortress before retiring to the countryside to live near Kolten; despite every bit of evidence he came across that Julian was a traitor, it hurt too much to contemplate. Hearing of Liam Morgan's capture--and of Morgan requesting to see him--he realizes what this is: His likely last chance to learn the truth from the only other person involved who's still alive.

Morgan's captor announces his visitor, and Morgan peers up at him through one eye. Camo just glares, utter contempt. Oddly, Morgan feels no anger, only vague cynical amusement. He says he has nothing to gain from telling Camo this, he's going to die whether he lies or tells the truth, and his Soviet captor verifies this. He's in too much pain to go into excessive detail, but he confirms what Himmel's said all along: Julian never loved him, she only ever saw him as a target. Regarding her actions taken behind his back, and the sorry state Morgan's in now, "Looks like she didn't care too much for you, either," Camo says with a bite in his voice. Yet Morgan merely offers a bloody, lopsided, vaguely rueful smile: "She f**ked us both over, mate, just in different ways."

Camo departs soon after, his heart broken, though Morgan doesn't really care; he's just tired of a lifetime spent fighting to survive, and wants it over with. He answers the Soviets' remaining questions, then is asked if he has any special requests; he doesn't. His captors pull him to his feet and drag him outside, lashing him to a pole. He catches sight of a line of men with guns before the blindfold goes over his eyes. A voice calls for the men to get ready and to aim; Morgan takes one shaky breath, lets it out, relaxes. Good riddance, he thinks, as the voice yells, "Fire!" and the bullets tear through him, over and over, until he sags and then topples to the ground, blood pooling. Under the blindfold, the bit of light in his eyes flickers out.

[Liam Morgan 2023 [‎Friday, ‎August ‎11, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:09 AM]]

[Liam Morgan 2023 2 [‎Friday, ‎August ‎11, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:42 AM]]

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