#Divided Berlin AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

krirebr · 10 months ago

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Welcome to Your Life

Pairing: dark vampire!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.75k

Summary: During a drunken night out on vacation, you're brought to a strange club and presented to a mysterious man. Part of Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Warnings: Horror elements, dark elements, mind control, some blood and gore, feeding on humans, captivity, dub/con, SMUT - All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika

We're All Monsters

Masterlist

A/N: And here it is, the first part of Vampire Steve's solo story! If you missed his introduction, it was in I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire. You don't need to read that before you read this, but some of the world-building (specifically how his club works) might be helpful. Plus, it's a vampire threesome, so 🥵🥵🥵

This is also the first part of the new, super-expanded supernatural universe that I'm doing with @paperweight91, playing off of what I started with my Psycho Killer AU. Big thanks to Chelsea for all her help on this and for just how much fun it's been to come up with ideas with her for this whole universe.

Now, where it might get slightly confusing, but I really hope it doesn't. This story introduces a new character, Cutter, who will eventually be a reader in one of Chelsea's stories in her werewolf half of this au. She is not physically described at all here, other than being a woman. I hope it gets you excited about what @paperweight91 has in store for her.

As always, any comments, reblogs, or asks are very appreciated. You know how much I love this Steve. Please come screech with me about him!!!

You were shaking. That was the only thing you knew. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing there. Not even how you’d gotten there, just that you were standing in the back room of some club, surrounded by people—were they people? Of course, they were. What else could they be?!—unable to move, and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You’d been on vacation with some friends in Berlin. You’d all decided to have a wild night out together but were quickly separated. While tipsily searching for them at a club, you’d bumped into a man, an American, who told you his name was Cole. And suddenly, looking for your friends didn’t seem as important. He’d told you he knew a great bar just a few blocks away. You didn’t really remember agreeing to go with him, but now you were here, in a room full of strangers who wouldn’t stop leering at you. No one had done anything or even said anything, but you knew in your bones that you were not safe. And yet, you couldn’t move.

Cole, especially, wouldn’t take his eyes off you, your neck in particular. You desperately wished for something to cover up your club attire. A woman was leaning against the wall in the corner, sharpening her ridiculously long nails with a knife. She looked up occasionally, and this time her gaze landed on Cole, a scowl on her face. “You know he gets first taste,” she said, before looking back down in disinterest.

“I know,” he said, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh.

“Everything has to get his approval before it goes on the menu,” she continued, still not looking up as she filed her nails to a terrifying point.

“Yes,” Cole gritted out, “I know that, Cutter. I’m not fucking new.”

“Then stop acting like you’re jonesing for your next fix. You’re that fucking hungry? Go get yourself something to eat that actually is on the menu.” Nothing they were saying made any sense.

He scowled at her, but started to leave the room, and then, suddenly, stopped. Everyone stopped. Cutter looked up, listening for something, then pushed herself off the wall and made her way over to you. She brushed one of her exceedingly sharp nails over your bottom lip. Looking you in the eye, she breathed, “Kneel, sweetheart.” And you were on your knees before you had any idea what had happened. She smiled at you and added, “Be quiet,” and you knew, in every cell, that you wouldn’t have been able to make any noise if you’d tried.

One of the doors opened and a tall, broad, beautiful man came into the room and you felt the energy of everything change. It was like it was all, yourself included, suddenly charged with electricity. You’d never felt anything like it. He zeroed in on you instantly and made his way over. You felt the instinct to cower, but it was far away, almost like it was behind a wall. And you still couldn’t move anyway. All you could do was shiver.

The man looked at you carefully. “Pretty,” he said, absently. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip just like Cutter had. Then he gripped your chin and angled it up so you were forced to make eye contact. “Give me your wrist,” he said and you couldn’t explain the feeling that moved through your body, only that you reached your wrist up to him, you had to, and waited for him to take it. He took it in his firm grip and placed his thumb right over your pulse point. He pressed down hard and smiled when you still didn’t move, didn’t react. It was like you didn’t know how. And then, something happened, so quickly you couldn’t process it. Fangs descended into his mouth and he lowered his head to your wrist and bit down hard. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt, but you didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until you felt the wetness on your cheeks that you even realized you were crying. It was like all the different parts of you were separated.

He pulled his teeth from your wrist and then licked the wound clean. He grinned at you and said, “You have excellent taste in cocktails, honey.” Then he looked over at Cutter and his smile dropped. “She’s still drunk. You should have known better.”

Her mouth fell open, and then she flung her hand out at Cole who stood sheepishly on the other side of the room. “Cole’s the one who brought her in!”

He was in front of her in a blink, the arm that was still in the air now in his firm grasp. She grimaced. “And you know exactly how good his judgment is,” he growled.

“Steve,” she whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear her.

The man (could you even call him that? Deep down you knew what he was), Steve, brought his face as close to hers as possible. “When I put you in charge,” he said, so lowly, “I expect you to be in charge.”

She just stared at him for a moment meeting his gaze, then dropped her own and nodded. He smiled fondly, you were surprised to see, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know he needs supervision.”

He made his way back to where you were still kneeling, now cradling your arm. He bent down to you slightly and stroked a hand down your neck. “There’s something there, though,” he said, although you weren’t sure who he was talking to. Certainly not to you. “Underneath everything else. I’ll try her again tomorrow and see how she is when the blood’s pure.”

You gazed up at him, confused, and he gripped your chin in his hand. “You may speak,” he said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” was all you could manage.

“Oh honey, of course, you don’t,” he said with a grin that frightened you. “The good news is that you’ll never need to understand anything ever again.” He looked back up at the room at large. “Set her up in a room upstairs.” He released your chin and made his way to the exit, pausing as he was almost out the door to call “Cole!” over his shoulder. The other man quickly followed him out of the room.

Cutter came to stand in front of you. She looked you in the eye and said, “Up,” and without thinking, you were on your feet. “Such a good girl,” she cooed. “Follow me,” and suddenly that was all you wanted to do.

The room she took you to was better described as a cell. There was a cot, a toilet, and a sink. No windows. Painted grey. It was tiny. Cutter left as soon as you were inside and you heard the door lock behind her.

You sat down on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt the urge to panic but it was like your body wouldn’t cooperate. Your heart rate stayed steady, your breaths even. You were calm, even if that was the last thing you wanted to be.

These people must have done something to you. People, right. You knew what they were. Every single one of them had stared at your neck. Steve had fangs and he’d literally drank your blood. You knew, even if an hour ago you would’ve sworn that was just fantasy. Vampires. You were being held captive by vampires. What the hell?

There was nothing to occupy your time in here except for your thoughts, so you curled up on the cot and tried to convince yourself that it was all a bizarre dream. Eventually, your exhaustion overtook you and you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure when exactly you woke up. You hadn’t seen a single window since Cole had brought you into the building last night. Because sunlight kills vampires, you thought to yourself, somewhat hysterically. Your memories of the night before were… weird. And not just because you swear someone drank your blood. They were patchy. And yes, you’d been drunk, but not that drunk. Not so drunk that you blacked out small portions of the night. And certainly not so drunk that you hallucinated vampires. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way out of the cell. Nothing in it that would help you. All you could do was wait for whatever it was that was coming for you.

Sometime later, hours probably, a slit in the door you hadn’t noticed before was opened, and a tray was slid through. Food. You gathered it quickly and sat on the bed. There was a carton of water and a plate with a large salad that was mostly made up of spinach and lentils. Iron-rich food, your mind supplied. The previous night seemed more and more real.

.You thought about refusing the salad, but you were so hungry, so you ate it. It was surprisingly good, but not what you would have chosen for what would probably be your last meal. You lay back down when you were finished, curled up on your side, and daydreamed of something more satisfying than a spinach salad.

More time passed. You stared at the walls and tried not to freak out. You wondered if your friends had made it back to the hotel. How long it took for them to realize you were missing. Were the police searching for you? Did your family know? You couldn’t help it when the tears started. You were pretty sure you were going to die here.

You dozed in and out for who knows how long. And then the door opened. Steve walked in with Cole behind him, carrying a chair. You jolted up and pressed yourself into the wall. “Stop,” Steve said, and everything did. “Calm down,” and you felt everything in your body slow. Suddenly, you couldn’t access whatever it was that you’d been so scared of. So you sat still and watched him.

Cole handed Steve the chair and he placed it in front of your cot. He sat down and looked at you. His gaze made you feel so small. He reached out his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against your knee. A chill ran up your spine, not just fear, but an excitement too, that you couldn’t explain. “Give me your other wrist,” he said, lowly, and you immediately did. He took it in his hand and brought it up to his nose, forcing you to lean forward. He inhaled deeply. “Much better,” he said. “You’re all sobered up now, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond. You knew, deep inside yourself, that he didn’t want you to. His fangs dropped and you braced yourself, something in the far recesses of your mind knowing that you should be scared. With a slight grin, he sank his teeth into your wrist. The pain was just as bad as the night before but soon, so much quicker than the last time, it was over and Steve was pulling away, his eyes still locked on you.

“Shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Cole asked, from his place by the door. “She’s that bad?”

“No,” Steve growled. “She tastes like sunshine.” He stood up and leaned over you, running the back of one finger across your cheek. “Precious thing.”

You looked up at him and blinked. “Please,” you said, “please, I want to go home.”

“No, honey,” he cooed, so gently, “you’ll never go home again.” As you tried to process that through the fog, he turned to Cole. “Put her in my private reserves. I’ll have her for dinner.” And then he was out of the room.

Cole looked at you, a pout on his face. “Goddamnit,” he grumbled, “I’ve been waiting for a taste.”

“You’re gonna bite me, too?” you asked, alarmed.

He sighed. “Not anymore. I’d rather not face the true death, thanks.” He looked you in the eye. “Come with me.”

You felt something move through you at that. There was definitely a strong urge to obey that you wouldn’t resist, but it was nothing like what you felt with Steve, or even Cutter, where it was like your body was on strings. It wasn’t a huge weakness, but you were taking note of everything at this point.

Cole took you through a long series of hallways that you couldn’t hope to keep track of. Cole talked the whole way, mostly inane bits about his frustrations with the pecking order in whatever vampire organization this was. You marveled for a moment at the fact that you were describing something to do with mythical monsters as inane. Finally, just as you arrived at a door not dissimilar to the one you’d just come out of, he concluded with “You’re a really good listener.”

You gaped at him. What did he think was happening here? He’d targeted you, done something to you to bring you here where you were trapped and probably going to die and he thought you cared that he didn’t feel respected enough by his fellow monsters???

But staying alive right now was your primary concern, so you just quietly said, “Thank you,” and let him show you into the room.

It was much bigger than the cell, but still small, along the lines of a spacious walk-in closet. There was a plush rug under your feet, a deep rose color. A four-poster bed was to one side covered in a big, fluffy comforter that was in a lighter shade of dusty pink and piled with pillows to match. The far wall was entirely made of mahogany built-in bookcases that were completely full of books. There was a soft-looking armchair in the corner by the shelves. You turned back to Cole and asked, “What is this?”

“It’s your room,” he said with a smile. He looked you in the eye. “Now,” he said, and you felt his words travel through your body. He pointed at a door without breaking eye contact, “that’s your bathroom. You’re going to use it now to get very clean and smooth. There are lotions you’ll use after to make yourself soft. There are things in there,” he pointed to a beautiful armoire in the corner, “for you to change into when you’re done. Steve will be back in a few hours and you will be ready for him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice coming out of you without any conscious thought or effort, “I’ll be ready for Steve.”

“Good girl,” he said, and gently patted your cheek. He stood awkwardly, watching you, but now that the command was in you, you were focused on getting to the bathroom so you could get clean. He was in your way.

“I have to get ready for Steve,” you told him, your voice sounding oddly robotic to your own ears.

Cole blinked at you and then sighed. “Right,” he said, sounding almost forlorn. He stared at you again and then shook his head. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stroking one hand down your arm. And then he finally left.

It was the most luxurious shower of your life.

When you came out of the bathroom, clean, smooth, and more moisturized than you’d ever been, you opened the armoire to find a small collection of slips in different sizes hanging in it. You found the one that would fit you best and put it on. It was black, a combination of silk and lace. It felt expensive against your skin. You searched the drawers, and next to a collection of silk briefs, you found a pair of black lace panties that would work for you.

Once you were dressed (or as dressed as you were going to be with what was available), you moved to the bookshelves. They were chock full of every genre and category you could think of. Vaunted classics next to dime store romances. Shakespeare collections and airport schlock. You ran your fingers across the spines, when, suddenly, from behind you–

“If there’s something you particularly enjoy, let me know and I’ll have someone get it for you.”

You spun around to find Steve just inches from you. You hadn’t heard a noise when he’d come in. There was a coldness emanating from him that made goosebumps rise along your flesh. Your breath caught and he grinned. You inhaled and asked, “You aren’t going to kill me?”

He laughed. “Oh no, Sunshine. You’re too delicious. I’m going to be feeding from you for a long, long time.”

You tried to back up, but the wall of bookcases blocked you. You pressed yourself into it anyway. He opened his mouth and you hurried to say “Please don’t make me calm down!”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. “Explain,” he commanded and you were obeying before you even registered the word.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I feel it when you tell me to do things. And I– I don’t know. I don’t know.” You wanted to obey, every part of you was trying, but you had no vocabulary for any of what this was. So you were left chanting, “I don’t know,” over and over.

“Stop,” he said, and of course, everything did. “You can feel it?” he asked. “The compulsion? You actually feel it move through your body?”

The word was new to you, but you knew what he meant. You nodded and he hummed. “Oh, you are very interesting, aren’t you, pet?”

You didn’t say anything to that, just watched him warily. He gave you a sharklike grin that sent chills down your spine and said “Now, calm down.”

And just like before, you felt everything inside you slow. Your body sagged a bit against the shelves, no longer trying to push your way through them.

“There,” he said, cupping your face in his large hand. “Isn’t that better, little pet?”

He guided you to the armchair and sat down in it, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel the supernatural strength in his thighs as you settled on top of him, sidesaddle, as he took all of your weight without any reaction at all. He scratched his thumbnail down your jugular and you closed your eyes. “It hurts,” you said, your tone surprisingly flat for how afraid of all this you’d been just a moment before.

“Hmm?” he questioned, as he nuzzled his nose along your throat.

“When you bite me,” you said, still so calm, “it hurts so much.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll make it feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

With that, he moved one of his hands in between your legs, slowly sliding it up your thigh. His face was fully in the crook of your neck when he mumbled “Feel this,” and you felt the command vibrate through your whole body. The calmness that had flattened you faded away and you let out a little whine when his hand reached your mound. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his fingers between your folds. You gasped as he quickly found your clit, tracing slow lazy circles around it. You tried to grind down onto his hand and you felt him huff a laugh into your neck. His tongue darted out, licking a wide stripe all along your vein. You let out another whine, so desperate this time.

He chuckled again. “I was going to make you get wet for me,” he said, as his fingers began to prod at your hole gently, his thumb still working at your clit, “but I don’t need to, do I? Or at least, not with my voice.” He was right, you were already soaking, and there was no resistance as he slipped one finger inside of you. You squirmed against his hand and he added another finger.

His mouth was still on your neck, lapping and nipping at your jugular, but he hadn’t sunk his teeth in yet. He scissored his fingers for a moment, stretching you so good that you cried out before he added a third. They stroked inside your walls, looking for your spot. He found it and you threw your head back.

“Come on,” he growled, “give me what I need.” He curled his fingers, scraping against that place inside you just right. You screamed as you were thrown over the edge of your orgasm and that’s the moment he finally sunk his fangs into your neck. You felt it, you did. The pain was just as intense as before but mingled with some of the strongest pleasure you’d ever felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your body spasmed around his fingers as he loudly sucked from your neck. You swore that you could feel the blood rushing to both places. You babbled as you coasted along the waves of your orgasm, feeling like it would never end. Even as the aftershocks quieted and slowed down, his mouth was still latched to your neck, taking what he needed from you. Your body was fully collapsed into his now. Everything offered up for the taking.

Finally, his teeth left you and he gently licked the blood from your skin. He slowly removed his fingers from you and you whined at the emptiness. He brought them up to your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he commanded and your mouth dropped open without thinking. He slid his fingers in and you swirled your tongue around them. You tasted yourself, sweet and musky, as you sucked him clean. He pulled them out with a soft pop and wiped them on the bodice of your slip.

You looked at his face. He still had your blood on his lips. You felt the odd urge to kiss him but didn’t have the chance as he pushed you off his lap. Your knees buckled, too weak to stand. He laughed gently, like you might at a cute animal that was struggling, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. He laid you down and tucked you in. “Rest up, Sunshine,” he cooed, and your body did as it was told, quickly sinking into sleep. “I’ll be back for more soon.”

Tag list is open

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#everybody wants to rule the world #we're all monsters #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers #captain america #vampire au #dark!fic #dark fic #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #kris wrote something

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meetinginsamarra · 5 months ago

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Fanfics I really liked in June 2024

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).

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The Disappointed Optimist's Guide to Sharing a Flat with a Madman by Calais_Reno @calaisreno

Despairing over his horrible living situation, John Watson has a small bit of luck when he meets Victor Trevor, who is trying to get out of his lease. Taking over the lease will mean moving in with Sherlock Holmes, but compared with his current horrible flatmates- Seriously, how bad can it be? A couple of brats who mess up the flat, make fun of him, and eat his food. Or a bloke who doesn’t talk and sometimes plays the violin. He can stick it out for two months...

Lots of fun and some hurt/comfort, great reading!

Two Dozen Kilometres North of Berlin by stopthat

“How am I meant to forgive you?” John whispers, the moment calling for quiet, the question heavy and harsh. Sherlock thinks of what they’ve both been through, each suffering in solitude, existing in a divided nightmare, several worlds apart.

“Perhaps you’re not,” he says, closing his eyes against the inescapable dark.

Reunion, angst with happy ending and bedsharing. What more does one need?

A thing with peas by khorazir @khorazir

Sherlock does the laundry. John cooks a thing with peas. They talk. Finally.

Yes, finally! Just a lovely and long overdue and very satisfying conversation.

A Home for Us by sussexbound

He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Post-Reichenbach, hurt/comfort and caring John. No Mary. Lots of feelings!

Masters of Ink by Indybaggins @indybaggins

John has a triple-coiled tattoo machine in his hand and a row of inks at the ready. He has gloves on, a willing client in front of him, and a detailed stencil. He is ready to win this bloody competition. Except he’s competing against Sherlock Holmes...

Awesome first meeting on a reality show, Ink Master AU. There is expert tattooing, slightly less expert flirting, and two men falling hard. But John is married, and they can’t all win.

#my fanfic recs #sherlock fic #fic rec list #fanfics I really liked in June 2024

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viking-raider · 6 months ago

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SALT IN OUR WOUNDS - CHAPTER VI

Summary-> Gus gets help finding his men.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 4.2k

Chapters-> I II III IV V

Warnings-> PG-13: WWII!AU, Language, Deception, References to WWII, Fluff, Use of the word Nazi, Angst

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction, pulled from my imagination.

Divider by-> @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“So, what mission is it that you’re interested in?” Mael asked Gus as the two men sat together in the living room.

“I’m not quite sure what it’s called.” Gus replied, leaning over the maps Mael had laid out on the table in front of them. “I know it was near here; Sainte-Honorine-des-Pertes.” He said, tapping Normandy’s bold name, the future site of Omaha Beach and D-Day.

“Hmm.” The elder Major hummed, squinting at the name. “I don’t recall any mention of activity there on the radio.” He said, shaking his head as he tried to recall the last several broadcasts he’d listened to. “I don’t have any markers on it either, beyond occupation. But, there might be something in the papers.” He looked about his recliner, grumbling under his breath. “In that roll-top desk over there,” Mael flapped his hand towards it. “I have several stacks of newspapers, bring them over and we can look through them.”

Nodding, Gus stood and opened the desk, finding an armload of newspapers, neatly folded, as well as several other maps. He bundled up the papers and brought them over to his and Mael’s table, carefully laying them out. The old man split the stack in half, sliding half over to Gus and keeping half to himself, before plucking one out and unfolding it. Taking his example, Gus took one out and started to skim through the stiff pages, finding several pencil notations in Mael’s hand on the margins.

“You’ve been quite diligent about keeping up with the War’s workings.” He commented, pausing to read through a small story, British Thrust in Desert, says Berlin, announced the headline, speaking of the Battle of Gazala.

“Have to keep my wits sharp somehow!” Mael laughed back, slapping his newspaper down and picking up another. “Not like I can go out there and fight these damned Nazis myself. Might as well keep track of the boys that are. Why’s this so important to you?” He asked, looking at Gus over the rim of his glasses.

“I have friends in this war,” Gus answered, his brow creasing for a moment, before fixing Mael with a cheeky grin. “Fighting these same damned Nazis. They were supposed to be fighting them by the coast. I’d like to know what happened.”

“And what happened to you?”

“I was a naughty boy.” Gus chuckled, setting his paper aside for another. “I was shot and lost my way from my men.”

Mael studied Gus long and hard. His gut; the one that had once carried him safely through the trenches of Germany in the Great War, tingled. He knew the friends Gus was looking for and the men he’d been separated from were one and the same. What he wasn’t sure of, was just how dangerous Gus was. He seemed easy natured enough, and his dislike of Nazis seemed quite clear by how he’d protected you. So, he likely wasn’t one himself or working for them, but then again, Mael wasn’t sure of anything. He’d been deceived before.

“Well, let’s see if we can find some clues about them.” Mael said, turning his eyes back to his task.

“I’m all for the help, old boy.” Gus grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

You watched Gus and your father pour over the newspapers, while you prepped the modest piece of meat you intended for a pot roast dinner. You found their mutual endeavor in finding Gus’s men sweet. Gus stimulating your father’s need and love for everything about the on-going war, for anything military. While Gus got the help he needed. But you couldn’t help the dull ping in the pit of your stomach, knowing that once Gus found what he needed and was strong enough again, he’d leave and you would likely never see him again.

It’s for the best. You thought, casting your eyes back to your own task. It would never work out anyway. You sighed, side eyeing him.

Gus felt your glances, but he kept his eyes on the newspaper in his hand, his knee slowly bouncing as he skimmed articles. He was discouraged a little more by each line that didn’t hint to any whereabouts of his men or their possible mission. He wasn't completely surprised. It wasn’t publicly sanctioned by the powers to be at the War Office. Gus had been privately asked to bring his men in on the mission, with the express warning that if they were caught, they’d be sent to prison by their own people or would become a prisoner of war by the Nazis, and it was the latter Gus feared his men had ended up as.

“Do we need refills here?” You asked, coming over with the coffee pot.

“Uh, yes, please.” Gus answered, looking up at you.

“Not just now, Peanut.” Your father answered, standing stiffly from his seat. “The last cup raced through me faster than a shot through no-man’s-land.” He commented with a chuckle, excusing himself upstairs to the restroom.

“How’s the search going?” You asked, filling Gus’s cup and glancing over the maps and newspapers. “Any luck?”

Gus let out a heavy sigh. “So far--no.” He pressed his lips together and raked a hand through his mess of curls.

“I’m sorry.” You frowned, setting the coffee pot down and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find something about them.” You tried to assure him, squeezing his shoulder. “I have faith.”

“Means a lot to me.” He cooed at you, giving you a gentle smile.

Giving him a sweet wink, you took up the coffee pot and headed back to the kitchen. “I have to pop out for a bit. Mrs. DuBois came down with pneumonia and I told Remi I’d go take her groceries, and spend a little time with her.”

“That’s kind of you.” Gus replied, squinting at the imperfect black newsprint.

“Yeah, her husband passed away just before the war, so it’s just her; since they never had kids.” You explained, bustling around. “The community helps take care of her.”

Gus looked over at you, a soft look on his tired face. He could see why you and your family had moved to Saint-Thurney. The little village seemed so tight-knit and willing to help their neighbors through the good times and the bad, along with everything in-between. It was evident that they had welcomed you, Edmund and Mael with open arms and hearts, despite being from across the pond. They had even taken him in, without too many questions to his sudden appearance in their sleepy village.

Your kindness was such an embodiment to Saint-Thurney’s soul, and it made his heart swell. Even after the tragedies and hardships in your life, your mother cheating and running out, Mael’s PTSD, your sister-in-law’s coldness and the War’s ugly mark on the world. You were still a kind and vibrant woman, who would go out of your way to help others, even to the danger of your person. An ordinary person would have developed at least one sharp edge of resentment, or to just be defensive against the world; much like Willa, Gus suspected.

But your edges were still soft and around. In all the right places, to the pleasure of Gus’s eye.

All the more reason to find Lassen and the boys, before the Nazis discover my true purpose here. I’ll be damned if I’ll let those filthy bastards put another mark on that beautiful skin. He thought, his blue eyes shifting from your back to your arm, his stomach hardening at the bruised fingerprints there. Would like to give that bastard a real taste of my mind.

“Papa, I’ll be back by the time the roast is done, so there’s no need to fuss over it.” You informed your father as he returned downstairs. “I’m going to go visit Mrs. DuBois.”

“All right, my love.” He nodded, pausing to kiss your cheek. “You mind those filthy Nazis on your way, and give Esmeralda my good wishes on her health.”

“I will.” You smiled, kissing his cheek back. “You boys behave yourselves, I put on a fresh pot of coffee, in case you want more, while I’m gone.” You told them, slipping on your coat.

“So attentive.” Gus complimented with a smile.

You gave him a silly expression, before heading out the door.

“You have an amazing daughter.” He praised Mael as he sat back down with him.

“That I do.” Mael agreed, nodding his head as he balanced his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “It’s beyond me how Edmund and I managed to raise such a lovely young lady. But I am glad of it.” He commented, sifting through his stack of remaining papers.

The two fell into a reasonably comfortable silence, sipping their coffees and skimming articles, the crackle of the glowing logs in the room’s wood stove filling the silence periodically. Their bubble was infiltrated by Edmund letting himself into the cottage, knocking his sandy boots against the door jam, before stepping further into the dwelling.

“What are the two of you doing?” He asked, stopping before Gus and his father’s table.

“I’m looking for information on some friends of mine.” Gus answered, neatly folding the paper in his hands, just as Mael had it, and adding it to the pile of read papers. “Your father here has kindly allowed me to read through all the newspapers he has on the war and look at his maps, so I might try and find them.”

“Your friends?” Edmund echoed Gus’s words, his eyes narrowing at the other man.

“Yes.” Gus nodded, his expression not cracking.

“Where’s my sister?”

“She went to go visit Mrs. DuBois, she’s taken ill.” Mael answered, looking at his son over the rim of his glasses. “Do you need something, Edmund?” He inquired, cocking a brow at his offspring.

“No, I just came over to check on everyone.” Edmund replied, plucking up a newspaper from a pile. “And to see what she was cooking for dinner.” He added, unfolding it and looking over the fuzzy print, unable to quite read them without his own glasses.

“Pot roast.” Gus said, looking up at him, but his brow pinched. “Might I see that?” He asked, holding his hand out.

Edmund shrugged, nodding and handing the paper over. Gus pushed the mountain of newspapers in front of him away and spread the paper out onto the table, leaning over it. The bold headlining print of an article, half stained by a ring of coffee, had caught his attention. Nazi outpost in France sabotaged, twelve German soldiers killed and one suspected saboteur killed as well.

A chill rushed down Gus’s spine, he sat back in his seat, a shaky sigh leaving his lips.

“Did you find your friends?” Mael asked, giving Gus a concerned expression.

“Yes.” He huffed, nodding his head and scrubbing his hands over the rough fabric of his pants.

“Are they all right?” Edmund asked, cocking his head in an attempt to read the article.

Mael took up the paper. “Says here, that one of them was killed during an attempt to sabotage a Nazi outpost; along with twelve Germans.” He leveled his eyes at Gus. “I’m sorry, Gus.”

“Thanks.” Gus rasped, before standing and excusing himself, stepping outside to the back garden for a moment.

A thick lump of relief flooded him as the cool, salty air enveloped him, pressing his hands to his face as the weight of worry if Lassen and his men had made it to safety lifted off his shoulders. It seemed they only thought Gus was dead, under understandable conditions. Now, he had to figure out a way to communicate with them, without bringing any more suspicion down on your family and the village.

“You all right?” Edmund asked, appearing in the doorway of the garden.

“I’m fine.” Gus replied, dropping his hands. “Just feeling grateful that they’re all alive.”

“So, what’s your next move?”

“I have to find a way to contact them.” He replied, casting his eyes to the sky. “They think I’m dead. Which may or may not work in my favor.” He said, squinting at the passing clouds.

“How are you going to find them? It’s been two weeks since my sister found you on the beach, plus whatever time it took you to wash up.” Edmund pointed out to him, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

Gus nodded, scratching his chin. “I’d gamble that it was a good three hours or so. Hypothermia would have killed me in six or seven.” He sighed, figuring the math in his head, surprised by how he’d managed to survive the freezing water and injury before you found him, like an angel from Heaven. “There could be two plans taken, if Lassen had the final word. They boarded the Maid of Honor, our fishing trawler, to return to either our rendezvous point in Getxo, Spain or they sailed across the Channel, back to London.” He laid out the possible paths in front of him. “Either option, they’ve long arrived at. So, I need a message of some sort to contact both posts, informing them of my survival, location and situation.”

“I might have a way to help you with that.” Edmund replied, chewing on his bottom lip and looking down at the tips of his scuffed work boots.

“Oh,” Gus hummed, cocking a sideways glance at him. “How so?”

“We’re going to need my sister.” He said, looking up at him, an impish look in his eyes.

“We’re doing what now?” You croaked at the two men standing in the middle of your bedroom.

“You and Gus are going to go plan your wedding.” Edmund repeated for the third time.

Your jaw worked as you looked between Gus and your brother. “Have the two of you nipped some of Papa’s whiskey?” You asked, brow creasing deeply. “You,” You pointed an accusing finger at Edmund. “don’t even like him.” You said, moving your finger towards Gus, whose eyes hadn’t left your face since coming into the room. “And that whole bit about being engaged was a lie, so they wouldn’t put another hole into you.”

“I don’t not like him--now.” Your brother stammered, gulping thickly and shifting uneasily. “Besides,” He said, clearing his throat. “This is still an act, so Gus can get a letter to Pastor Zane, who will get it to the right people. Gus’s people.”

“Gus’s people.” You echoed, slowly nodding your head, feeling the pieces fall into place.

You understood what was happening now. Gus was going to compose a letter to inform the right people of where he was, likely asking them to find a way to extract him from Saint-Thurney and back to wherever he was meant to be. He had kept a level gaze on your face, gauging your expression and body language for reactions to this developing news, and despite your best attempts, it felt like a tank had run you down.

“Do you know where your letter needs to be sent?” You inquired, not quite meeting Gus’s blue stare.

“Yes.” He answered softly. “I’ve written two letters. One is to be sent to London and the other to Getxo; places my men are to use as rendezvous points. I’m unsure, obviously, given the heated scramble back to the boat and my not making it back with them, which route they decided to take for safety sake.”

“Safer and faster to cover your bases.” You nodded, agreeing with the tactic.

“Pastor Zane will take the letters from Gus at your meeting with him, under the guise of wishing to discuss marrying.” Edmund explained to you. “We figured this would be the easiest and least suspicious option. Once Pastor Zane has the letters, he’ll pass them along to our contacts, chaining them out of the village and across to England and Spain. When we get a response, Pastor Zane will get in touch with us through another safe means and we can go from there, based on whatever the answer to your letters are.”

“Perfect.” Gus nodded, licking his lips. “I just hope your contacts can be trusted.”

Edmund looked both annoyed and hurt at Gus’s words. Your brother hadn’t been allowed to join the military, due to the deterioration of his eyesight. But in compensation, he’d started a spy and smuggling ring in the modest village of Saint-Thurney. Many, if not all, of the community loathed the Nazis and their allies, especially since they occupied your peaceful village, throwing it even more off sync in the War. So, members of Saint-Thurney band together to thwart them at every possible turn, with Edmund at the top of the spy ring.

“Okay, when are we going?” You asked, always willing to help thwart a Nazi or two, despite the throbbing pain wrapping around your heart.

“Tomorrow morning. I already contacted Pastor Zane about it, an hour ago.”

“Oh, how polite of you to schedule our potential marriage so quickly.” You quipped at the two of them.

“I just couldn’t wait any longer.” Gus teased back, blue eyes sparking and the corners of his lips curling up, impishly.

You felt your cheeks heat and butterflies swarm your stomach at his words. “Well,” You took a deep breath, trying to settle your nerves. “He’s going to need church clothes.” You said, motioning a hand over Gus’s attire.

In the two weeks Gus had resided with you, he had worn the clothing Edmund had provided him when he first awoke, and a couple articles since. But he would need something much more presentable, if he was going to see Pastor Zane with you in the morning. It would look strange, and disrespectful, to see the Pastor in just a pair of worn, black slacks and a simple and a short sleeve, dark-blue, four-button ringer t-shirt.

“Right.” Edmund nodded, pressing his lips together.

“We’re going shopping, Gus.” You grinned at him.

Edmund rested his hand on Gus’s shoulder. “God be with you.” He chuckled, shaking his head and excusing himself from the room.

“When?” Gus asked, after the door shut.

“Now.” You replied, turning to pluck up your cardigan. “We don’t have much time, since you need to see Pastor Zane in the morning.” You explained, pulling it on and moving towards the door.

“A family of action.” Gus chuckled, following after you.

“Papa, Gus and I-”

“Yes, Ed told me.” Your father nodded, his ear to the radio.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs, blinking over at your father, then cast your eyes to your brother, who stood at the counter, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. “Told him?” You repeated, cocking a brow in surprise.

Edmund finished fixing his coffee and moved over to you. “The man already thinks you’re engaged, it’s the easiest line to keep him thinking.” He told you, in a low voice. “It also keeps the fucking Nazis from doing anything to him, should they come back trying to ask questions. All he knows is that Gus is your discharged, betrothed.”

“It is the best for him.” Gus agreed, not wishing to put the Senior Major into any sort of danger on his account. “Keep the gritter details between us.”

“True.” You nodded, a lump of anxiety in your throat. “Well, we’ll be back, Papa!”

“You best not get married without me!” Mael yelled after you.

You laughed, biting your lip. “Of course not, Papa. I wouldn’t dream of marrying without you there to walk me down the aisle.” You assured him, hurrying over to press a sweet kiss to his cheek. “It would put a damper on the day.”

Getting out the door, You and Gus made your way to the town center, passing Remi’s shop and rounding a corner, only to promptly run right into a Nazi patrolman.

“Scheisse.” He barked, attempting to shove the larger Gus away from him, his hand pressing on his wound in the process. “Watch yourself!” He hissed, crudely.

Gus grunted deep in his throat, the corner of his eye twitched with pain, but he straightened his shoulders, regarding the Nazi with pure distaste. “Apologies.” He replied, his voice tight as he glanced sideways, assuring himself that you were unbothered.

“Business?” The officer barked, looking at you both.

“What-” Gus started, but you cut him off.

“We’re going to the shops.” You answered, voice strained, but neutral, before intertwining your arm around Gus’s and coaxing him out of the German’s way, not wishing for any more interaction or agitation between them. “We hope you have a great day.” You told him, forcing a kind smile as he went by, eying Gus as he went.

“Please, don’t anger them, Gus.” You said, once he was gone. “You’re here, while you have to be. But we live here, under them.”

“He was the one being rude.” Gus replied, resting a hand against his wound. “But, I’m sorry.” He said, lightly touching your arm.

You offered him a soft smile, before motioning to a clothing shop up ahead. “We can get you something suitable from there.”

“All right.” He nodded, but his attention was elsewhere, his blue eyes were cast across the street and beyond, where a small barracks and tall watchtower, with a red, white and black flag flew high on top, was situated into a hill, populated by German jeeps, a couple trucks and a few Germans themselves loitering about. “Is that where the village’s occupiers stay?” He asked, with a jerk of his brow.

You glanced in its direction for a fleeting moment. “Yes.” You replied, stopping outside the clothing shop and looking him over. “I honestly can’t wait to see you in a suit.” You admitted, a bright smile pulling across your lips and meeting your eyes with a spark of impishness.

Gus chuckled and lowered his head a tad. “You should see me in uniform.” He winked, teasingly, before opening the door for you.

“Tisk tisk.” You chuckled, then ducked inside. “Good morning!” You chimed to the owner behind the counter of the shop.

“Good morning, mademoiselle.” The tailor replied, bowing his head politely to you, then regarded Gus. “And you, monsieur.”

“Morning.” Gus greeted him, politely. “I need a suit by tomorrow morning, to meet with your village Pastor.” He began to explain to the tailor. “So, I may have a chance to marry this lovely lady.” He said, raising his eyebrows at you, amused to see you try and hide your shyness as you browsed the selection of suit jackets.

“That is short notice.” The tailor said, frowning over the counter at Gus.

“I know of its inconvenience.” He replied, nodding, sympathizing as he rested his hands on the counter between them. “You see, I simply can not wait to have this lovely jewel as my wife, any longer. I have waited so many years already. Not to mention, the worries I put her through, while I was away fighting the Nazis and becoming seriously injured.” He leaned over the counter slightly, as if to confess something to him and not allow you to hear it. “If it wasn’t for thoughts of her, I would have died in a fox-hole in Dunkirk, and again, when I came home with my injury.” He lightly touched his side. “She nursed me back to the living.”

“Would you wish to wait any longer to marry such a woman?” Gus asked him, with such genuine sincerity.

Both the tailor and you were stunned at Gus’s words, they were so compelling and seemed to ring with such truthfulness. Well, in part they were true, you had saved Gus’s life. The tailor cast his eyes over to you, he must've read the emotions in your face, seen the surprise of Gus’s words and interpreted them.

“Let’s see what we can do, oui?” He said, moving from behind the counter. “Let’s start with the pants! My dear father always said, ‘if a man does not have a good pair of pants to go through life! Then he will always look like an ass!’, and I agree with him!”

Gus laughed, grinning. “A wise man.”

The two of them spent the next several minutes discussing pants, before Gus decided on a pair of blue, wool trousers. When the tailor stepped away for a moment, Gus turned towards where you were sitting with a cup of tea the tailor had kindly made you.

“What do you think?” He asked, motioning to the pants.

“You look good in blue.” You replied around the rim of your cup.

“Thank you.” He smiled, smoothing a hand over his thigh. “It feels nice to wear high quality wool again, after a military issue.” He chuckled, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger

“Even for an officer?” You asked, cocking your head at him.

“It’s by far better than the quality of the non-commissioned men, but not as good as this.” He explained, looking in a full length mirror, his eye catching a jacket in the reflection. “I must get myself that jacket.” He hummed to himself, as the tailor returned, holding up a crisp, white and button down shirt with a smile.

#Salt in Our Wounds #Viking-Raider Fics #Salt in Our Wounds *fic*#gus march phillips #henry cavill #henrycavill #World War 2 #WWII #wwii era #WWII France #WWII AU #France AU #FLUFF #Angst #Gus x Reader #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare

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rammingthestein · 4 months ago

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🎈 Happy 25th birthday to the Live Aus Berlin album, released on this day in 1999 (30/08/1999) 🎂

Recording took place on 22 and 23 August 1998. Later that year, Motor Music invited 200 fans to a choir singing session in Berlin to create more crowd noise for Live aus Berlin's post-production.

It contains a live performance of nearly every song from the band's debut album, Herzeleid (9 out of 11 songs, excluding"Der Meister" and "Das Alte Leid", and most of the songs from their second album, Sehnsucht, excluding "Alter Mann", "Eifersucht", and "Küss Mich (Fellfrosch)".

The CD was released in three different formats: The standard version included one CD with 15 songs on it, missing the songs Herzeleid, Klavier, and Tier. The special edition includes 2 CDs with the full recording. The special edition was also released at German WOM (World Of Music) stores with printed signatures on the case. On 29 October 2021, the standard CD was re-released in a digipak.

The original DVD from 1999 includes a quiz, which you can only play when you insert the DVD into your computer. The quiz contains 140 questions with three possible answers. The quiz is divided into two levels. When finishing the first level, the user gets told on how to enter the hidden music video for Stripped. After finishing the second level, the DVD shared a link and a password to download a Rammstein screensaver from the website.

In September 1999, the complete uncensored live video (with Bück Dich) was presented in eight German cities.

#rammstein #live aus berlin #mine;#till lindemann #flake lorenz #paul landers #richard kruspe #oliver reidel #christoph schneider

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aziraphales-library · 2 years ago

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heya, do you know of any gomens fics that are set in berlin, germany? thank you!

Hi! Here are some fics set in Berlin...

daedalus, landing by Contra (M)

AU in which their city is Berlin instead of London. // Alternate Title: The Sky over Berlin

To rest my eyes in shades of green by HolRose (G)

During what began as an ordinary November evening, bookish, shy student Aloysius, and world-weary horticulturist Anton meet on the top of a notorious Wall in a city teetering on the edge of momentous change. Growing up in a profoundly divided country has given them both ample reasons to be distrustful. Neither of them have considered that they might fall in love at first sight, but where the personal and political collide on this most unprecedented of occasions, they may be about to change their minds.

A Berlin Wall AU

Left With No Trace by Anti_kate (E)

Aziraphale’s heart didn’t leap so much as plummet from a cliff-top, flinging itself towards certain doom. Aziraphale struggles with his feelings after his fight with Crowley over the holy water, until they meet by chance in Berlin.

Good Omens Deutschland by fathand (T)

1946 - 1989.

Berlin, during the Cold War.

Maybe This Time by orphan_account (T)

There was a cabaret in a city called Berlin, in a country called Germany, in a Europe that just narrowly escaped the end of the world and was rapidly heading towards another attempt.

And in that cabaret, an Angel and a Demon were dancing together. The trumpets signaling end times could have been playing, and they wouldn’t have even heard it over the music.

Atomic Omens by bookmarksorganization (E)

It's Atomic Blonde (which you don't need to have seen), but it's Good Omens. Basically: it's a spy story set in 1989 Berlin feat. Crowley as the femme fatale main character.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #berlin #mod d

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ichijager13 · 2 years ago

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Of love, books and your smile

pairings : Eren x reader (Jean x reader, Eren x Historia)

Raiting: Mature

Modern AU, aged-up characters, strangers to lovers, falling in love, fluff

Summary: His name was on every book you borrowed. you have even made a habit of looking for it eacht time you chose one. Eren Jager a combination of letters you grew familiar with, but what happens when you finally meet the man in question.

A/N: this was previously published on AO3, the story is inspired by seiji's confession from whisper of the hearts.

Picture credits to the artist

Dividers by @cafekitsune

the list of chapters of this work

Chapter I Your name on my books

Chapter II Sweet coincidence

Chapter III It feels right

Chapter IV First date

Chapter V Historia

Chapter VI Late night conversations

Chapter VII It’s time to go

Chapter VIII First time

Chapter IX It’s easier with you

Chapter X Confrontation

Chapter XI Late night confessions

List of books mentionned in this story:

The moment Douglas Kennedy The city of fallen angels Berendt John Beloved Toni Morisson The stranger Albert Camus The poisonwood bible Barbara Kingsolver Out of Africa Karen Blixen 1984 George Orwell Before I go to sleep S.J Watson The barefoot queen Ildefonso Defalcones Cathedrale of the sea Ildefonso Defalcones Anna Karenina Leo Tolstoy A wrinkle in time Madeleine L'Engle the fall of berlin 1945 Antony Beevor the tattooist of Auschwitz Heather Morris to kill a mocking bird Harper Lee sister mine Tawny O’Dell the Prague cemetery Umberto Eco When the Dawn Breaks Emma Fraser My name is red Orhan Pamuk

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solnishkawrites · 2 years ago

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So my boyfriend @mikk1n and I have been developing a 1920s Call of Cthulhu AU for Dishonored. This started off really small—I was mostly just desperate to get my boyfriend to play a TTRPG with me, and lured him into CoC 7th edition with the promise of having him play as his Dishonored OC, Moira O’Farrell—with the module “Paper Chase” from the Starter Set. And then, everything spiraled out of control and into this sprawling saga. Some highlights from the primary AND secondary campaigns we have planned:

PRIMARY CAMPAIGN

Havelock and Moira are bootleggers in the early 1920s in America. When they get a tip-off that the police are after them, they flee to Berlin, Germany and become smugglers trafficking archaeological artifacts through the black market.

They also run a bed and breakfast together, because why not.

Havelock and his smuggling partner, Josef, attract the attention of strange cult when a business deal goes awry. They’re captured, and it’s up to Moira (a disabled Black Irishwoman, for those who aren’t in the know) to go and find them.

Josef escapes on his own, but Havelock is transformed via a strange ritual into… something that is no longer human. Something that craves the taste of human flesh.

Even though Havelock retains his memories and capacity for reason, he is losing his sanity as he struggles to come to grips with his new, uncurable condition. Also, the cult is hellbent on recapturing him. Unfortunately for the cultists, Havelock is also hellbent on revenge.

SECONDARY CAMPAIGN

Corvo and Jessamine Attano are a young couple trying to make a new life with their infant daughter, Emily, in Berlin. Jessamine has left her wealthy family in England behind; the only thing she took with her when she left were the clothes on her back… and a small, insignificant-seeming pendant that her father gave her when she was very young.

Little does Jessamine know that the pendant is an eldritch artifact. Euhorn (and the cult he’s cozy with) want it BACK, and they’re willing to hire an assassin named Daud to kill Jessamine and retrieve what they view as theirs.

Daud accepts the job, but finds that he can’t kill Jessamine. This isn’t Miss Kaldwin, a shallow little rich bitch living off of her daddy’s money… this is Mrs. Attano, a scared young woman trying to make ends meet while caring for her daughter and husband. Daud runs away, but is found by Corvo later on. They talk and compare notes… and then decide to go cultist-hunting together.

I can’t say much more without releasing spoilers that Misha can’t yet know about. More shall be revealed with time.

I’m really enjoying this AU. Without all of their power and influence, the characters have a chance to actually be better people. There’s still a massive initial class divide between Corvo and Jessamine (he grew up in poverty on the streets of Havana, Cuba, while Jessamine was sipping from crystal glasses in her family’s townhouse in London, England), but the fact that Jessamine was able to walk away from that life makes her a better person than she was in canon as an Empress who responded so poorly to the Plague Crisis. She, Corvo, and Emily get a chance to be a real family together.

Likewise, Daud gets a real redemption arc. I’m not a big fan of Daud in canon; I feel like he can’t ruin Corvo’s life the way he did and subject him to the trauma of being accused of Daud’s crime and allow Corvo to be TORTURED FOR MONTHS ON END for that crime and then earn any kind of forgiveness. It doesn’t resonate with me.

I’m not sure if the primary or secondary campaigns will ever intersect. Currently I don’t expect them to, but it’s impossible to say what the dice will dictate. Some more tidbits about the characters and world before the post ends:

Billie is Haitian.

Daud is Moroccan, thereby giving him that French colonial connection to Billie.

The Outsider is the figurehead and puppet of a Great Old One.

The Golden Cat has become a cabaret club.

Havelock is a veteran of World War I.

Moira’s sister, Sian, was a volunteer in Cork, Ireland during the Easter Rising of 1916.

Martin is still a shady priest.

#call of cthulhu rpg #dishonored #fanfiction

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napollya-inspiration · 1 year ago

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atomic blonde au

I kind of want to start a series about writing this fic just because I can. I make no promises of finishing it. I just think that my process for this will be so different - as I mostly adjust the process to each fic that's pretty normal for me - but this has been baking for the past 6 years.

A big part of why I want to write this is to explore something I kind of touched on in Tangled Up, which I wrote in 2017. That fic needs some heavy editing from my perspective today, but I started to deal with the dynamic of Gaby being East German and getting mixed up with Napoleon as an American and Illya as a Russian and what that would mean for her. How do her sentiments differ from theirs as someone who got into the spy business to get out of the GDR?

“He’s a Russian.” She said like it explained things. “What do you mean?” “I am from East Germany.” She looked around for a moment and stopped. “Look, they say Russia is our big brother. But not in the way big brothers can be protective and super cool. More in the way big brothers can be oppressing and authoritative. Maybe even abusing.” She said in a hushed voice but with a stress that convinced Napoleon she meant every word. It made sense. Very few of the East Germans loved the Russians or what they had done to their country. The fear of the Stasi at all times and the propaganda education didn’t help. “Are you afraid?” He asked, honestly concerned. “No, no.” Gaby started walking again. Her tone lightened. “Illya is incredibly soft, although he may not look like it. Excerpt from Tangled Up

Again, I would improve a lot of things about this fic today, but this was me scratching the surface of a dynamic that I know from growing up in what used to be East Germany. Don't get me wrong, the wall had been down for ten years when I was born, but I felt ripple effects even as I was growing up. My mom was 18 when the wall fell. I had a history teacher who used to patrol the border. My parents hadn't ever eaten a kiwi until they were 20 and had no clue how you ate one when they got it from the store. My grandpa's brother escaped to the West and doesn't talk to my family anymore.

It's very much a reality of growing up German.

This is what I love about Atomic Blonde. Sure, the plot is awesome, but you can see the country being reunited as a backdrop. While all countries continue to hunt and kill each other, the Cold War "ends."

It's definitely something I want to bring into the fanfic. The surreality of the divided city. I already posted this snippet from the WIP, so I don't feel bad about it, but the way I start to introduce this dynamic is through Napoleon's musings as his plane descends on Berlin.

Out of all the places, Berlin is one of the dirtiest to spend your time as a spy. Nowhere else is the density of spies per capita this high. And it shows. Napoleon despises it. The desperation of the West German Citizens holding onto their city and being fed by the West like a helpless infant with spoons that are literal airplanes. And then there’s the desperation of the East Germans, fenced in by their own government and longing for the American dream like it was going to fix anything. And above all, every fucking government trying to profit from their collective desperation. When a hundred and sixty yards-wide missile field divides a city, you know to be rather careful where you step.

Fun fact: you can see how Berlin used to be divided to this day if you look at it from above at night:

Let me know if you are interested in this kind of behind-the-scenes content!

#napollya #tmfu au #tmfu fic #atomic blonde au #who won (and what was the fucking game anyway)#nici writes

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roomchailimited · 7 months ago

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Discovering Europe: A Traveler's Schengen Sojourn from Paris to Prague

Embarking on a Schengen sojourn offers a gateway to the heart of Europe, where borders blur and cultures intertwine. This journey through the Schengen Zone, planned meticulously with the help of Roomchai Limited, promises a seamless adventure across some of Europe’s most captivating destinations.

Our European escapade begins in Paris, the epitome of romance and elegance. The city's iconic landmarks, such as the Eiffel Tower, Louvre Museum, and Notre-Dame Cathedral, are just the beginning. Wandering through the quaint streets of Le Marais and enjoying a leisurely cruise along the Seine River, we immerse ourselves in the timeless charm of the French capital. Paris’s culinary delights, from croissants to coq au vin, add an exquisite flavor to our stay.

From the sophistication of Paris, we head to the vibrant streets of Brussels, Belgium. Known for its medieval architecture, Grand Place, and mouthwatering chocolates, Brussels offers a delightful blend of history and modernity. The Atomium and Manneken Pis are must-sees, and the city’s vibrant street art scene adds a contemporary twist to our journey.

Next, we take a scenic train ride to Amsterdam in the Netherlands. The city’s picturesque canals, historic Anne Frank House, and the world-renowned Van Gogh Museum captivate us. We explore Amsterdam's unique neighborhoods, from the artistic Jordaan to the bustling De Pijp, each offering its own charm and character. A leisurely canal cruise provides a perfect way to take in the city’s beauty.

Our journey continues to Berlin, Germany’s capital, where history comes alive. The remnants of the Berlin Wall, the grandeur of the Brandenburg Gate, and the poignant Holocaust Memorial are just a few highlights. Berlin's dynamic arts scene, diverse culinary offerings, and vibrant nightlife make it a city that never ceases to fascinate. Roomchai Limited ensures our itinerary covers both iconic landmarks and hidden gems, providing a well-rounded experience.

Leaving Berlin, we arrive in Prague, the Czech Republic's fairy-tale capital. Prague’s medieval Old Town, with its Astronomical Clock and Tyn Church, transports us back in time. The majestic Prague Castle and the serene Charles Bridge offer panoramic views of the city’s enchanting skyline. Strolling through the cobbled streets, we discover charming cafes, artisanal shops, and historic pubs, each with its own story to tell.

Vienna, Austria’s imperial city, is our next destination. Here, we explore grand palaces like Schönbrunn and Hofburg, reflecting the opulence of the Habsburg dynasty. Vienna's rich musical heritage is celebrated through performances at the Vienna State Opera and concerts in historic venues. The city's coffeehouse culture invites us to relax and savor its culinary delights, from Sachertorte to Wiener Schnitzel.

Our journey brings us to Budapest, Hungary, where the Danube River divides Buda and Pest. We marvel at the architectural splendor of the Hungarian Parliament Building, relax in the thermal baths, and explore the historic Buda Castle. Budapest’s vibrant ruin bars and lively markets add a contemporary edge to this historic city.

Finally, we conclude our sojourn in Switzerland, amidst the breathtaking landscapes of the Swiss Alps. In Zurich, we wander through the charming Old Town, visit the Swiss National Museum, and take a scenic train ride to Lucerne. The pristine lakes, majestic mountains, and serene countryside offer a tranquil escape, providing a perfect end to our European adventure.

Throughout our journey, Roomchai Limited has been an invaluable partner, ensuring every detail is meticulously planned and executed. Their expertise and personalized service have made our Schengen sojourn seamless and memorable. Compared to other travel agencies like GoZayaan and ShareTrip, Roomchai Limited’s commitment to creating tailored travel experiences sets them apart, making them the ideal choice for any European adventure.

As we return to Dhaka, we carry with us the memories of an unforgettable journey. Our Schengen sojourn has enriched our lives, offering us a deeper appreciation for the diverse cultures and landscapes of Europe. This adventure has ignited a passion for exploration, inspiring us to continue discovering the world’s wonders, one journey at a time.

#europe #paris #portugal #tour #roomchai

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alphacentaurinebula · 1 month ago

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Chapter 19 of You're the Bad Guys is up! My cold war AU where Crowley works for the KGB and Aziraphale is an MI6 agent and they're both stationed in divided Berlin in 1981. The war might be cold but this fic is hot, etc etc etc. (I apologise.) (No I don't)

Huge thanks as always to my beta @fellshish, who constantly makes me laugh whilst offering insightful comments that make the fic so much better :)

just shout to be added or removed from the tags!

@puntos-cardinales @naturallyteal @di-42 @hellsgardener01 @sabotage-on-mercury @tonydaddingham @a-z-hampton @knifeforkspooncup @weasleywrinkles @handyowlet @crowleys-curl @ghostsparrow-blog @goodoldfashionednightingale @seven-stars-in-his-palm @theeminentlyimpractical @masnadies

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic

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postpunkindustrial · 3 years ago

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Berlin Super 80 (Music & Film Underground West Berlin 1978 - 1984)

Berlin super 80 was a DVD curated program of eighteen short films shot in Super 8 by West German experimental film makers between 1978 and 1984. Featuring music by Malaria, Reflections, Einstürzende Neubauten, Frieder Butzmann and Die Tödliche Doris.

It was accompanied by a CD of music from that era that included Mona Mur, P1/E, Sentimentale Jugend w/ Einstürzende Neubauten and more.

I uploaded each separately. You can get the CD HERE.

You can get the DVD HERE (unfortunately not divided into chapters)

Tracklsting below the cut

DVD (Super 8 movies) 01. Brand & Maschmann: E Dopo? (1981) 02. Christoph Doering: 3302- Taxi Film (1979) 03. Markgraf & Wolkenstein: Hüpfen 82 (1982) 04. Yana Yo: Sax (1983) 05. Maye & Rendschmid: Ohne Liebe gibt es keinen Tod (1980) 06. Stiletto Studio,s: Formel Super VIII (1983) 07. Walter Gramming: Hammer und Sichel (1978) 08. Georg Marioth: Morgengesänge (1984) 09. Hormel/Bühler: Geld (Malaria Clip) (1982) 10. Notorische Reflexe: Fragment Video (1983) 11. Jörg Buttgereit: Mein Papi (1981) 12. Die Tödliche Doris: Berliner Küchenmusik (1982) 13. Butzmann & Kiesel: Spanish Fly (1979) 14. Manfred Jelinski: So war das SO 36 (1984) 15. Klaus Beyer: Die Glatze (1983) 16. Markgraf & Wolkenstein: Craex Apart (1983) 17. Andrea Hillen: Gelbfieber 1982)

CD 01. Mona Mur: My Lie (1982) 02. Malaria: Thrash Me (1983) 03. Die Tödliche Doris: Tanz im Quadrat (1981) 04. Christiane F: Wunderbar (1982) 05. P1/E: 49 sec. Romance (1980) 06. Mono/45 UPM: Romantic Adieu (1979) 07. Sprung aus den Wolken : Akcam La (1982) 08. Kosmonautentraum: Stolze Menschen(1981) 09. Valie Export & I. Wiener: Bananen (1980) 10. Alexander v. Borsig (Hacke): Hiroshima (1980) 11. DIN A Testbild: No repeat (1980) 12. Flucht nach Vorn: Nahost (1982) 13. Frieder Butzmann: Schmusewolle (1979) 14. Sentimentale Jugend: Wollt ihr die totale Befriedigung (1980) 15. Einstürzende Neubauten: Tanz Debil (1980) 16. MDK: Berlin (1982)

#industrial #Experimental #ndw #neue deutsche welle #mona mur #malaria #malaria!#p1/e #din a testbild #Einstürzende Neubauten #einsturzende neubauten #neubauten

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krirebr · 1 year ago

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I Can't Sleep, Cause My Bed's On Fire

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Dark!Female Reader x Dark!Steve Rogers, established Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, past Ransom Drysdale x Steve Rogers

Word Count: ~3.3k

Summary: In Germany, you and Ransom run into someone from his past. Part of the Psycho Killer AU

Warnings: Horror elements, feeding off people, references to mind control, explicit language, group sex (mmf), light degradation, a little past (and present) heartache, a lot of smut- All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Ahahahaha! Oh god, what have I done????

A HUGE thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who let me flail all over her about this idea and read so, so much of it and talked me through the panic attack I always have when it's time to write smut.

Please come screech with me about this Steve. I'm so obsessed with him.

Ransom led you through the crowd by your hand. You lagged behind him as you tried to take in everything around you. People were dancing in cages, their eyes glossed over. There were humans laid out on tables as vampires fed on them. You saw no fewer than five couples fucking. This place was a wonderland.

While you were still in France, Ransom had heard rumors of a vampires-only club in Germany, so now, after chasing down leads, you were in Berlin. You hadn’t known what to expect from Valkyrie, but this was more than you could have dreamed. No one was hiding here, pretending to be human, pretending to be weak. Here things were in their natural order. Here, even after only a few minutes, you really felt at the top of the food chain. Your fangs dropped in excitement and you let them stay. You were with your people now.

Ransom took you to the bar, pulling you in front of him and resting his chin on your shoulder. “What do you have on tap?” he yelled above the din to one of the bartenders. They placed a narrow menu in front of you, then moved on to help someone else. You looked at the selection of blood, all different types, ages, and diets. Your eyes wandered down to the bottom of the menu. “Hey,” you said over your shoulder to Ransom, “what do you think the Captain’s Special is?”

He went completely still. “What’d you say?” he asked, deadly serious. Without waiting for an answer he sniffed deeply. “Oh shit. We have to get out of here. Right fucking now,” he said as he started pulling you away.

You stood your ground. “What? Ran, no! I wanna st–”

A chuckle over his shoulder interrupted you. “Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh, Ransom?”

He turned around very slowly to face an impossibly broad man, an inch or two taller than him with golden blonde hair and boy next door good looks. This new man looked about ten years younger than Ransom, but you knew better than to take that at face value. He reeked of power and experience.

“Steve,” Ransom said, cooly. “I thought you were still in Brooklyn.”

Steve shook his head, grinning. “Not for a few decades. It was time for a change.” He gave Ransom an obvious once-over. “You look good.”

Ransom scowled. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve laughed and shrugged. “No idea. You know how Buck is.”

“I don’t actually.” Ransom said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard his voice be so cold. “I only met him at the end there.”

The grin didn’t leave Steve’s face. “Come on, you aren’t still upset about all that? You knew the score going in, Pup.”

“There were lots of things I didn’t know going in, Steve.”

Steve sighed. “You always were so stubborn,” he said, reaching a hand out to stroke Ransom’s cheek, and Ransom, right in front of your eyes, fucking leaned into it.

Without realizing it, a growl built up in your throat. Steve’s eyes cut to you for the first time. “Oh! And who’s this pretty little thing?”

At that, Ransom seemed to come back to himself. “None of your fucking business.”

Steve wasn’t deterred. His eyes bore into you. You’d never been looked at like that before. It was like he was looking inside you. You felt like he could see everything you’d ever done, everything you’d ever thought. It made you want to cower, but it also pulled you to him.

“Oh,” he said with a slight moan, “she is brand new. What’d you bring me, puppy?”

“I didn’t bring you anything.” Ransom growled. “She’s mine.”

Steve looked back at Ransom at that. “Yours? As in…”

“Yes.”

He looked at you critically. “Very interesting.” He held out a hand to you. “Steve Rogers. Welcome to my club.”

You took it and said your name. He brought your hand up to his lips and laid a soft kiss on your knuckles, then, as he released it, gave you a smile that you could only describe as predatory. “An absolute pleasure,” he said. He took a breath as if to say more when he was interrupted by someone in a club uniform whispering in his ear. He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Ransom. “I have to take care of this. But you should come back tomorrow night. I have a private room in the back. We’ll be able to catch up.” He glanced at you and licked his lips, then grabbed Ransom by the back of the neck and leaned in to give him one of the filthiest kisses you’d ever seen. Open-mouthed and wet. You could tell, even from the outside, how in control of it he was. It both made your knees weak and your blood boil. You were furious at Ransom for submitting to it. When he was done, he rested his forehead against Ransom’s and whispered, “I’ve missed you, Ran. Come back tomorrow.” When Steve pulled away, he winked at you. Then, over your head to the bartenders behind you, “Whatever they want is on me,” before disappearing back into the crowd.

Ransom grabbed your hand and tugged. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he growled.

Once you were on the street outside, you pulled Ransom to a halt. “Who the fuck was that?” you shouted.

“That,” Ransom snarled, “was the fucking Captain!” At your blank look, he let out a heavy sigh. “Christ, you’re still so new. He’s a big fucking deal in our circles, ok? He’s a name. He’s known.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “He’s a famous vampire?”

“He’s a powerful vampire!”

“Well, I could obviously see that! It radiates off of him! What I’m asking is, who is he to you?”

Ransom backed himself up against the nearest building and leaned his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed again. “He’s the one who turned me.”

“What?” was all you were able to say. You’d known, of course you’d known, that Ransom hadn’t always been a vampire, that he’d been turned at some point. But he’d never said a word about the circumstances and you honestly hadn’t given it much thought. Him being a vampire was just so natural to you, you couldn’t imagine him any other way.

And then you remembered how you'd felt when you'd first woken up when you'd opened your eyes and seen Ransom standing above you – everything you'd felt about him, the man who'd given you this incredible gift. The idea of Ransom feeling that way about someone else – about Steve – filled you with a fire so intense you wanted to spread it through this entire city, burn down absolutely fucking everything. “How long were you together?” You asked and you could feel how your voice shook.

“Less than a decade,” he said like he was trying to dismiss the whole thing.

You scoffed. “You say that like it isn't a long time!”

“It isn't! Not to him, not to someone that old. He fought in the Revolutionary War, ok? I was a one-night stand to him.”

“But he wasn’t that to you,” you hissed.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then, finally, “No. He wasn’t.”

You’d never felt like this before, not even before, when you’d found out everything Andy had been up to. You’d never felt this all-consuming fire, this hate and despair and lust all swirling together. You wanted to put your fist through the brick wall next to you. You wanted to put Ransom through it. You wanted to fuck him right there on the street. It was only the fact that you equally wanted to do all three things at once that kept you from doing any of them.

Like he always could, Ransom read everything on your face, in your body. “I hate him, ok?” he said, reaching out and softly laying his palm against your cheek. “I hate him so much.” He was placating you but you still leaned into it.

“You want him,” you whined. It was obvious in the way he’d melted into Steve’s touch, Steve’s kiss.

“I do,” Ransom nodded and you growled. He stroked his thumb along your cheekbone to soothe you. “I’ll always want him, just like you’ll always want me and I’ll always want you. There’s something about that bond – when you turn someone. I don’t know, but no matter how much I hate him, I’ll always want him.”

“And he’ll always want you,” you snarled.

Ransom gave you a rueful smile. “That, I’m not so sure. He’s a couple hundred years old and I don’t think even he knows how many progeny he has. Plus he’s been in love with the same man since he was human. When Bucky came back, I was shown the door.”

You were finally starting to let go of your anger. You moved fully into Ransom’s space, placing one hand on his chest. “Fuck him, then,” you said. “Let’s go back in there, drink him out of house and home and then get the fuck out of Germany.”

Ransom rested his forehead against yours, in a mirror of what Steve had done to him, and sighed. “We can’t. We have to come back tomorrow night.”

“We don’t.”

“We do. He’s fixated on you now.”

You took a step back at that and looked at him, confused. “He barely looked at me!”

“Trust me, if we leave now, it’ll become an obsession, and he’ll come after us just to show us that he can. We don’t want that.”

For the first time that night, you felt a frisson of fear. “Does he want to hurt me?”

Ransom snorted and you had the shortest moment to be offended before he said, “He wants to fuck you. Both of us, probably.”

“What?” you asked, surprised. “What would be the point of that for him?”

He snorted again, “Besides orgasms?” he said and then sobered. “It’s a power play. You have to know that every single thing he does is a power play. Ok? You must remember that when we see him again.”

“Ok,” you nodded, a little frightened by his seriousness. But only for a moment, because quickly your thoughts were overtaken by a broad chest, thick thighs, and a perfect ass.

You looked up to see Ransom smirking at you. “Yeah,” he said, “whatever you’re imagining, it’s going to be so much better. It’s the best thing about him.”

You returned to the club the next night. Ransom had insisted on dressing you both – you in a form-fitting, off-the-shoulder dress that barely covered your ass and left your neck and chest exposed, him in a burgundy silk button-down, strategically unbuttoned, and tight black pants that made his ass pop. You were sure that if you could have looked at yourselves together in a mirror, it would have been a sight to behold.

Someone was called to the door when you got there and you were led directly to Steve’s private rooms in the back. You entered into a sort of sitting room, plush seating scattered throughout, arranged over lush rugs and under low lighting. Everything was dark wood and deep reds and blues. It communicated comfort, luxury, and, more than anything else, power.

Steve was already there, sitting in a large, wing-backed leather armchair. He looked, as ever, clean-cut, professional, and in charge. At his feet kneeled a dark-haired young woman, clad only in an expensive-looking slip made of silk and lace. You could smell the humanity on her. It took everything in you to not let your fangs drop right there. Steve slowly, gently, pet her head, like she were his dog. He gave a satisfied smile when he looked up at you both. “Good boy,” he said to Ransom. “I knew you’d come.”

Ransom huffed and pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. He layed a possessive arm across your stomach. “Of course. Who would dare ignore a summons from The Captain?” he said dryly.

Steve rolled his eyes but kept his smile. “Nothing as dramatic as all that. Am I not allowed to want to catch up with an old friend and his new lover?” Ransom scoffed but didn’t say anything, so Steve continued, gesturing to the woman at his feet. “I took the liberty of having something brought up from my private reserves for us to share. I remembered how you prefer the earthy ones, Ran. This one’s full-bodied and oaky, with the subtlest hint of vanilla. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” He stopped petting her, instead taking her hair in a harsh grip and moving her head to expose her neck.

At that, you couldn’t control yourself anymore, your fangs dropped with a hiss and you lunged forward. Ransom caught you, both arms around your middle and you let out a desperate whine. “I’m afraid we’ll have to decline,” he said. “My little rabbit still hasn’t quite mastered self-control and I would hate for there to be an accident with one of your favorites.”

Steve scoffed. “Of course, she doesn’t have any control with you being the one to teach her.”

You felt Ransom stiffen behind you, and you were able to pull yourself together enough to stop fighting to get loose. You sank back into him, partly to comfort and partly to apologize. You’d embarrassed him. You tipped your head back to try to whisper an apology, maybe, but Ransom just subtly shook his head and ran a comforting hand down your side.

“Well,” Steve said, patting the woman on the arm and then snapping at the door behind him, “can’t be helped, I guess. Pity.” He pulled out his phone and typed a message as she got up and left the room. “They’ll bring us something from the bar.”

“Excellent,” Ransom said, still running his hand up and down your side. “We haven’t eaten anything yet tonight.”

“Well,” Steve said with a smirk as there was a knock on the door and someone in the club’s uniform came in with a tray of drinks, “I promise you’ll both be very satisfied.” He passed a tumbler to each of you. “What should we cheers to?” he asked. Then his eyes narrowed in on you. “To new friendships,” he said, with a quirk of his lips.

You raised your glass, then took a sip and moaned. It was delicious, even though you missed the little cries and whimpers that usually accompanied a feeding.

You were so absorbed in your glass that you were surprised by Steve’s fingers circling your wrist. “You like it?” he asked, his voice low and husky, standing much closer to you than you’d realized. This close, he was completely intoxicating. His scent, the coldness of his touch, his power.

“I do,” you breathed, “it’s delicious.” Ransom’s arm wrapped across your body again, pulling you tight into him.

Steve ignored the display from Ransom, softly running his thumb over what had been your pulse point when you were human. “I’m glad,” he said. “I’m here to please.” He began to pull you away by your wrist and Ransom let out a short but obvious growl. Steve took his attention off you but left his hand and tsked. “You always were so possessive. I’d hoped you’d have grown out of that by now, but you’re still so young, aren’t you, pup?”

Ransom scowled. “I always hated it when you called me that.”

“No,” Steve said. He leaned forward and placed a soft but leading kiss on Ransom’s lips, squishing you between the two men. Your whole body was thrumming with need now. Steve pulled away, and Ransom moved his head to chase after him. “You loved it,” Steve whispered.

He grabbed your free wrist with his other hand and pulled you with him as he walked over to the nearest couch, perching on the arm. “Come here, little one. Let’s talk, just you and me.” He pulled you so you straddled his knee, and you could tell that you were soaking his pants leg through the tiny excuse for underwear you were wearing. “Oh, you are a needy thing, aren’t you? Maybe you should stay with me, hmm? I’m much more experienced and have so much more to teach you.”

You could feel Ransom’s hackles rising, even from a few feet away. You turned your head to look at him, still standing by the door, and his eyes were locked on you, just you. You bit your lip to hold back the moan at how he watched. You turned back to Steve and smiled seductively as you said, “And what would happen to me when Bucky comes back?”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. His eyes cut to Ransom as he said, “Jealous little thing!” He jerked his knee up, rubbing hard on your cunt and you gasped. “Yes, I’m sure he’s told you all about how I spurned him. Took advantage of his naivety. As if he ever had any. Is that what he told you? Am I the big bad?” You couldn’t answer him, could barely think, as his knee continued to grind against you. “Oh, little one, you are drenched. How does he handle you by himself? Ransom,” he called over your shoulder. “Come help your desperate thing.”

In an instant, you felt Ransom’s hands on your hips, and you couldn’t help the cry that tumbled out of you. He had your dress off before you could even register what he was doing. Steve groaned at the sight of the black lace that adorned your body. “You wrapped her up exactly how I like. Such a good puppy.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You tore through Steve’s shirt, sending buttons flying across the room. He lunged forward, kissing you, finally, demanding and aggressive, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, making you keep up with him. You felt Ransom’s own mouth on your neck, his hands on your breasts. Your hands fumbled their way down Steve’s abs and into his pants, freeing his cock—long, fat, and so, so hard for you. One of them, you weren’t sure which, tore away your underwear, the sting of the elastic snapping pushing you ever closer to the edge. In your periphery, you vaguely noticed Steve’s arm snaking around you and heard Ransom gasp. You wrapped a firm hand around Steve’s cock and stroked furiously, as Ransom’s fingers (you’d always know Ransom’s fingers) slid between your folds, his thumb quickly finding your clit while two fingers slipped inside you. You keened as he touched you exactly where he knew you needed it and sent you hurtling over the cliff of your orgasm. Your whole body shook with it, only managing to stay upright thanks to being sandwiched between these two men. It felt endless, but as the aftershocks ran their course, and you slowly came back down to earth, you registered Steve’s breaths growing more erratic and Ransom’s groans picking up behind you. You tightened your grip on Steve and increased the pace of your strokes to an inhuman speed until he bucked uncontrollably with a guttural moan and painted his spend all over your front. Seconds later, you felt Ransom’s own release on the small of your back. They both continued to jerk against you, gradually slowing down until the three of you were just one tangle of limbs, collectively trying to catch your breaths. You rested your head against Steve’s shoulder as Ransom collapsed against your back.

Steve looked over you both to the clock on the wall. “Well,” he said, his voice full of smug satisfaction, “we have about six hours til sunrise, and there’s a bed in the next room. Think we’ll be able to find a way to fill the time?”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @she-wolf09231982

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vorfreud · 3 years ago

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films on youtube: part ii

Updated on September 29th 2021.

Below is a selection of films available on YouTube. As I try to update this list as regularly as possible (for this is a lenghthy process), please refer to the original post for the newest version.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Apparently, Tumblr restricts the number of links you can have all on one post. Therefore, this list is divided into two parts. You can access part one by clicking on the link below:

PART I HERE.

For a visual reference of all the movies available, click here.

Titles are alphabetized by director, and organized by year of release.

Orphée (1950), Jean Cocteau

The Mother and the Whore (1973), Jean Eustache

My Little Loves (1974), Jean Eustache

La Chienne (1931), Jean Renoir

The Southerner (1945), Jean Renoir

The River (1951), Jean Renoir

The Golden Coach (1952), Jean Renoir

À Propos de Nice (1930), Jean Vigo

Zéro de Conduite (1933), Jean Vigo

Vivre Sa Vie (1962), Jean-Luc Godard

Masculin Féminin (1966), Jean-Luc Godard

Chronicle of Anna Magdanela Bach (1968), Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet

Class Relations (1984), Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet

Antigone (1992), Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet

Two Men in Manhattan (1959), Jean-Pierre Melville

Le Deuxième Souffle (1966), Jean-Pierre Melville

Down by Law (1986), Jim Jarmusch

My Left Foot: The Story of Christy Brown (1989), Jim Sheridan

Hovering Over the Water (1986), João César Monteiro

God’s Comedy (1995), João César Monteiro

Vai e Vem (2003), João César Monteiro

Underworld (1927), Josef von Sternberg

The Docks of New York (1928), Josef von Sternberg

Faces (1968), John Cassavetes

Minnie and Moskowitz (1971), John Cassavetes

Opening Night (1977), John Cassavetes

Just One Kid (1974), John Goldschmidt

King of Jazz (1930), Joh Murray Anderson

Song of Avignon (1998), Jonas Mekas

As I Was Moving Ahead Ocasionally I Saw Glimpses of Beauty (2000), Jonas Mekas

The Act of Killing (2012), Joshua Oppenheimer

…À Valparaíso (1963), Joris Ivens

Birds, Orphans and Fools (1969), Juraj Jakubisko

Sisters of the Gion (1936), Kenji Mizoguchi

The Story of the Last Chrisanthemum (1939), Kenji Mizoguchi

A Geisha (1953), Kenji Mizoguchi

Ugetsu (1953), Kenji Mizoguchi

Sansho the Bailiff (1954), Kenji Mizoguchi

Street of Shame (1956), Kenji Mizoguchi

Duel in the Sun (1946), King Vidor

Fires on the Plain (1959), Kon Ichikawa

The Ascent (1977), Larisa Shepitko

Dancer in the Dark (2000), Lars von Trier

The Upturned Glass (1947), Lawrence Huntington

Hamlet (1948), Lawrence Olivier

The Blue Light (1932), Leni Riefenstahl

Mädchen in Uniform (1931), Leontine Sagan

Rain (1932), Lewis Milestone

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946), Lewis Milestone

This Sporting Life (1963), Lindsay Anderson

if…. (1968), Lindsay Anderson

Au Revoir, Les Enfants (1987), Louis Malle

Jew Süss (1934), Lothar Mendes

La Terra Trema (1948), Luchino Visconti

Beautiful (1951), Luchino Visconti

The Leopard (1963), Luchino Visconti

Sandra (1965), Luchino Visconti

The Sunday Woman (1975), Luigi Comencini

L’Âge d’Or (1930), Luis Buñuel

Nazarin (1959), Luis Buñuel

Black Orpheus (1959), Marcel Camus

Limite (1931), Mário Peixoto

Spring on Zarechnaya Street (1956), Marlen Khutsiyev and Feliks Mironer

Vermilion Souls (2007), Masaki Iwana

La Haine (1995), Mathieu Kassovitz

Meshes of the Afternoon (1943), Maya Deren

Caught (1949), Max Ophüls

The Reckless Moment (1949), Max Ophüls

Black Narcissus (1947), Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

Gone to Earth (1950), Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

Gente del Po (1947), Michelangelo Antonioni

Il Grido (1957), Michelangelo Antonioni

L’Avventura (1960), Michelangelo Antonioni

La Notte (1961), Michelangelo Antonioni

Red Desert (1964), Michelangelo Antonioni

Zabriskie Point (1970), Michelangelo Antonioni

The Passenger (1975), Michelangelo Antonioni

Women of Ryazan (1927), Olga Preobrazhenskaya and Ivan Pravov

The Stranger (1946), Orson Welles

Black Girl (1966), Ousmane Sembène

Punishment Park (1971), Peter Watkins

Mamma Roma (1962), Pier Paolo Pasolini

World on a Wire (1973), Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Martha (1974), Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Chinese Roulette (1976), Rainer Werner Fassbinder

City of Pirates (1983), Raúl Ruiz

Time Regained (1999), Raúl Ruiz

Lucrezia Borgia (1922), Richard Oswald

Strangers When We Meet (1960), Richard Quine

Framed (1947), Richard Wallace

Mouchette (1967), Robert Bresson

Four Nights of a Dreamer (1971), Robert Bresson

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), Robert Wiene

Rome, Open City (1945), Roberto Rossellini

Paisà (1946), Roberto Rossellini

Germany, Year Zero (1948), Roberto Rossellini

The Flowers of St. Francis (1950), Roberto Rossellini

Europa ’51 (1952), Roberto Rossellini

Journey to Italy (1954), Roberto Rossellini

Repulsion (1965), Roman Polanski

Cul-de-sac (1966), Roman Polanski

Songs from the Second Floor (2000), Roy Andersson

You, the Living (2007), Roy Andersson

Two (1965), Satyajit Ray

Battleship Potemkin (1925), Sergei M. Eisenstein

The Color of Pomegranates (1968), Sergej Parajanov

Shozo, a Cat and Two Women (1956), Shirō Toyoda

A Day at the Beach (1972), Simon Hesera

Royal Wedding (1951), Stanley Donen

It’s Always Fair Weather (1955), Stanley Donen

Indiscreet (1958), Stanley Donen

Charade (1963), Stanley Donen

The Haircut (1982), Tamar Simon Hoffs

A Page of Madness (1926), Teinosuke Kinugasa

Badlands (1973), Terrence Malick

The Entertainer (1960), Tony Richardson

Daisies (1966), Věra Chytilová

The Outlaw and His Wife (1918), Victor Sjöstrom

Shoeshine (1946), Vittorio de Sica

Bicyle Thieves (1948), Vittorio de Sica

Umberto D. (1952), Vittorio de Sica

State Fair (1946), Walter Lang

Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (1927), Walter Ruttmann

The Last Stage (1948), Wanda Jakubowska

Land of Silence and Darkness (1971), Werner Herzog

Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972), Werner Herzog

Rope of Sand (1949), William Dieterle

Wings of Desire (1987), Wim Wenders

I Was Born, But… (1932), Yasujirō Ozu

The Only Son (1936), Yasujirō Ozu

The Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family (1941), Yasujirō Ozu

There Was a Father (1942), Yasujirō Ozu

Late Spring (1949), Yasujirō Ozu

Early Summer (1951), Yasujirō Ozu

The Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice (1952), Yasujirō Ozu

Tokyo Story (1953), Yasujirō Ozu

Early Spring (1956), Yasujirō Ozu

Equinox Flower (1958), Yasujirō Ozu

Late Autumn (1960), Yasujirō Ozu

The Blue Sky Maiden (1957), Yasuzō Masumura

#films #youtube #updated #part ii

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