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alternishicons · 26 days ago

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percy jackson headcanons + panel edits (long post, hcs under the cut. only grover, annabeth, and percy. i use the homestuck troll quadrants to describe their relationships)

in order: annabeth, percy, grover

some notes on their designs: they all have a lot more scars, grover’s mainly being on his legs from running through forests, annabeth’s mainly being on her sides (as she gets too cocky during fights and leaves them open on accident), and percy’s mainly being on her chest. annabeth and percy look really similar, but they’re not intended to be, just how picrew works ykyk. grover wears sunglasses and really baggy clothes to hide his goat features. percy is fem as hell and would prob love skirts, but i didnt really like any of them in the picrew.

percy

🐟 if you think hes cis, straight, or white ur crazy

🐟 on that note. Trans girl who uses she/he/bite, biromantic asexual but romance repulsed attraction to men due to trauma, and she’s latino, black, and libyan

🐟 i see people headcanon her name as persephone a lot and while i do love that to me shes parand and still goes by percy!

🐟 middle kid regressor, prob 7-13. i dont think bite would change much in terms of personality, besides maybe being louder due to lack of volume control

🐟 solarpunk, afropunk, hopepunk, and underseapunk for sure. she is an ACTIVIST!!! he, his siblings, his mom, and grover go to protests together im correct

🐟 fav bands: my chemical romance, pleasure venom, fea, meet me @ the altar, the tuts, and la armada. i dont listen to pierce the veil but maybe them too?

🐟 sharkhearted, aquatickin, and oceankin!

🐟 radicalized the rest of the 7, and while bite grew up with punk beliefs (ty sally), i think thalia was the one who gave her the final push ykyk?

🐟 he is NOT skinny and he does NOT have a 6 pack!! listen. most of bites exercise comes from combat and strength training. and typically, strength training (ESPECIALLY combat) doesnt focus heavily on bodybuilding. My girl is big and has muscles and is proud

🐟 collects comic books, legos, and video games! favorite comic run is napalm lullaby, doesnt have a favorite lego set but has a small ocean animals one she bought second hand that she pulls apart and puts together again for comfort, and she doesnt have a favorite video game but the one she replays the most is is sonic adventures 2! video games are his special interest (did i mention i hc him as autistic. Well that too. bite’s audhd dyslexic)

🐟 isnt dating annabeth anymore (in my perfect world). the two broke up and both are way happier and healthier as adults. i think that annabeth needed to be away from percy to get better, and percy COULDNT be better with annabeth.

🐟 (i do think theyd have the best femme&butch solidarity as friends once they are both ready to do so! just need time for healing and all, ykyk?)

🐟 jason is her ex-moirail and her auspitice for her and annabeth! jason stops them from entering an abusive pitch relationship. used to be clarrise’s kismesis, but broke it off to take a break from relationships (reason he broke off from being jason’s moirail)

annabeth

📘 i dont have many hcs for her because to me, shes a better character concept then character

📘 my girl is butch trust meeee. “oh shes so fem and percys strong fem gf” HER? HERR?? THAT ANNABETH? OUR ANNABETH?

📘 she/they demi-caedromantic butch lesbian demigirl. i think a lot of pjo characters like multiple genders in theory, but due to trauma, have lost most (or all) attraction to them. to me, she used to be interested in romance, but fell off from that after everything happened

📘 does NOT get good grades. I love her and i think shes actually smart because she likes to study, but like… my girl has dyslexia and adhd. and their mom is the goddess of WISDOM, not INTELLIGENCE. theres no way theyre getting all As and Bs

📘 afropunk and anarchopunk. shes not as active in local scenes due to them bouncing around (though their heart will always be in the punk scene in LA), but if theres a protest in her general area THEYRE GOING. i also think theyre riot grrrl but only after ending her relationship with percy and getting better as a person

📘 fav bands (during relationship, im not sure what she’d listen to post-percabeth): mel bryant & the mercy makers, the muslims, pat the bunny, mischief brew, big joanie, violent femmes, boygenius. i think she was largely influenced by grover and thalia, but starts really developing her own music taste when they settle down in their own life

📘 her hair is FUCKED UP. she tries to take good care of it!! they really do!! but after years of living in a camp with not a whole lot of access to supplies for their hair type, and then living on a BOAT with even LESS access, their hair is really damaged. all the seven have fucked up hair, but theirs especially, since they were under so much stress that she didn’t care much for upkeep.

📘 was radicalized to be anarchopunk and afropunk by thalia, but became riot grrrl thanks to piper’s influence

📘 not autistic (in the books, maybe the show). i personally dont see her as having many autistic traits (though they DEF have adhd traits and its insane people dont acknowledge that a lot). but yeah i just? cant see it? idk

📘 when they were dating percy they didnt realize they didnt actually have feelings and was just comphet. this led to a really unhealthy relationship. then by the time she realized the feelings had developed to just hate and they felt bad leaving. they eventually separated and she got a lot better

📘 away from dating for a while, but has a small, unrequited pale crush on piper

grover

🫐 GROVERRRRR guys hes one of my favs unironically

🫐 mixed african american-indian guy whos a t4t bisexual trans guy and uses he/him. “oh but all satyrs are male” yeah but also this is a book series that has been inaccurate about greek mythology since the beginning so shh

🫐 carries iron supplements with him because while he’s used to relying on hay and feed for iron, he can’t exactly do that disguised as a human

🫐 his handwriting is SHIT. i think most of his handwriting comes from signing himself up for things so that means he constantly looks like he’s signing his signature. only juniper can somewhat make it out and thats because hers is just as bad

🫐 solarpunk, afropunk, and hopepunk!!!! he is literally the og solarpunk trust me.

🫐 fav bands: punk on toast, earth 2 tiffany, tell everyone we’re dead, the tuts, be steadwell, zaphyria

🫐 age regresses to rlly young with no cg! he doesnt particularly want one either? hes just doing his own thing. percy is his playmate :)

🫐 not my headcanon but my friend says hed be really tenderheaded, like as in “can barely do his own hair without it hurting”. idk how accurate this is but i agree because my friend says so

🫐 used to get roped into the stoll’s pranks. he’d help them sneak onto the strawberry trucks, steal things, etc. eventually stopped as he got more anxious, but he and the stolls are still fairly close and he’ll still help them play pranks on occasion

🫐 fruits are his ultimate safe foods! strawberries, apples, whatever! he keeps a packet of fruit on him everywhere he goes for snacks

🫐 sees thalia, annabeth, and percy as his younger siblings. i think he deserves to be their proud older brother, as a treat <3. used to see luke as the same way, but not anymore for obvious reasons

🫐 juniper is her one and only matesprit!

#not icons #headcanons #percy jackson headcanons #annabeth chase headcanons #grover underwood headcanons #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #my headcanons #pjo headcanon #made for self indulgence

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crazychaoticizzy · 1 year ago

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Think of Me

Following the arrival of the Eldian Opera House's new managers, a chorus girl is chosen to be the lead in the production.

WARNINGS: none, not unless you really read between the lines

Word Count: 3.4k

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For anyone not used to it, the chaotic hustle around the opera house before a big production might make one dizzy. And for Armin Arlert, that’s exactly what it did.

He stood close to Erwin as the two of them followed Keith Shadis—the famous director and manager of the opera house. Now, Shadis spoke proudly as he gave Armin and Erwin a tour of the place, giving well explained answers to their questions so they could get used to the building more easily.

Backstage was a mess: designers quickly moving to and fro carrying a large assortment of items, janitors airing out sheets or sloshing water around with their mops, stage crew struggling to move around the old pulleys for stage effects, drunks laughing uncontrollably and trying to peep in on changing girls (one held back a piece of the peeling wall, his eye practically glued to what was on the other side).

The ballerinas spoke as they descended stairs, dipping their pointes in chalk before moving to their positions on a bar.

Another woman sang obnoxiously, her voice being so loud and booming Armin could hardly understand what she was saying. The excessive vibrato she added didn’t help, and he found himself trying to decipher what she was singing more than he paid attention to Keith.

He watched as more women marched onto the stage, wearing half made costumes and showcasing imaginary staffs. They organized themselves into three lines, splitting down the middle so a tall and slender man could make himself center stage.

The conductor groaned, hitting his stick against the music stand in front of him.

“What is it, Herr?” he asked, putting his hands on the edges of his stand and slightly leaning forward. “I am rehearsing!”

He put his hand holding the stick out, exaggeratedly motioning to those on the stage. The slim man turned to face whoever was behind him, and it was only then that Armin noticed he was a woman wearing a false beard.

“Marlowe, Historia, Ymir.” Keith nodded his head to each respective person—first the conductor, then to a short woman with an obnoxious headdress on her head, and finally to the woman Armin initially thought was a man. “Hange, cast.” He vaguely motioned to everyone else, softly sighing.

“As I’m sure you all know, rumors of my imminent retirement have been circling around. I am here to tell you that it is true.”

Armin heard someone “Aha!” and saw a couple others holding out their hands to collect money.

“Yes, very sad,” Keith sarcastically said. “These fine gentlemen behind me are now in ownership of the opera house and your new managers. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce Herr Erwin Smith, and Herr Armin Arlert.”

Everyone gave an obligatory round of applause. Both Erwin and Armin gave tight, closed mouthed smiles.

Both the short and tall women approached them, the shorter blonde one holding her hand out. Armin gently took it and chastely kissed it, watching as Erwin did the same.

“Gentlemen, Historia Fritz, our leading soprano for nearly four seasons, and her wife, Ymir Fritz.”

Armin bowed to both of them. He recognized them now. The first famous sapphic couple in Eldia. Historia being known as Eldia’s Sweetheart due to her public kindness while Ymir was the more attractive one—the one that seemed to have a sexier air about her.

“An honor,” Erwin said, only bowing his head. He stood straight, a proud smile on his face as he spoke to the entirety of the opera house. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to introduce the opera house’s new patron as well. Ladies and gentleman, the Viscount Kirstein.”

Erwin stepped to the side, allowing a mostly clear view of the stage entrance behind him. A young man walked in, looking down as he ascended the steps and passed the ballerinas.

“It’s Jean,” one of them quietly whispered to her friend when he passed. “From when I was little, remember?”

Mikasa glanced at him, leaning in to speak. “He’s very handsome, Y/n. Quite a different person from the boy in the photos you have.”

The two girls softly chuckled, continuing to listen as their new managers spoke.

The viscount stood between the two managers, both much taller and slimmer than Y/n remembered. He flashed his perfect teeth, seemingly trying to make eye contact with everyone in the auditorium to make them blush or remember his face.

“A pleasure to meet you. My family and I are always eager to support the theater arts, and we are most grateful for this opportunity.”

He was charming, the words falling from his lips like honey. It was clear he made everyone present swoon (those attracted to men, at least), and a few whispered fantasies were exchanged.

“Now, I believe I’m keeping you from rehearsal?” Jean looked to Marlowe, who was impatiently tapping his fingers against his music stand, for confirmation. “I apologize for having to depart so soon after my introduction, but I will see all of you later tonight at the performance.”

Jean left with a bow, leaving a few chorus girls giddy as he passed them.

Hange Zoё briefly motioned to the ballerinas before quickly walking across the stage to meet Erwin and Armin.

“Come this way.” They grabbed both of their arms, leading them to the side of the stage just as the ballerinas got in lines and began jumping around.

“Welcome!” They shouted to be heard over the grand music the ballerinas danced to. “I’m the ballet instructor, Hange Zoё. Though I’m sure you already knew that.”

They were animated, moving their hands with every word that left their mouth.

“This is our famous dancing corps.” They turned and motioned to the ballerinas dancing behind them. They bent over as others hopped over chains, a few dancing gracefully as a couple moved more erotically. “Though they need more work before tonight.”

The comment went unheard as Armin seemed to zero in on one of the dancers. She seemed to have a more prominent part, because while most everyone was kneeling or laying down, she was one of the two dancing proudly.

“Is that . . .” Armin trailed off, trying to think of what her name could possibly be.

Hange hummed, turning her head in the direction of his gaze. “Oh, Y/n L/n. The only child to the famous Marleyan cellist.”

“Aren’t both of her parents deceased?” Erwin asked, looking at Y/n before looking at Hange.

“Yes. I took her into my arms when that happened and now she’s like a daughter to me.” There was a slight implication to her words as she glared at them, gently pushing them. “Step aside.”

Hange took a few steps to their left as Armin and Erwin followed. The spot they stood in soon had a couple dancers gathered there, and based on the way the song sounded, it seemed like it was going to end soon.

Historia strutted across the stage. She stood front and center and Armin realized that the unpleasant voice singing earlier belonged to her.

Historia was looking their way as she sang at the top of her lungs. Armin didn’t notice because of the sudden amount of ballerinas standing in front of him and Erwin.

Props were brought out as the song reached its loudest point, and the girls closest to the managers turned to them. Two wrapped the fake chains around Armin and Erwin’s necks, winking at them and continuing their routine.

Historia noticed, and her voice became louder as if trying to win their attention back.

Armin leaned back, nervously chuckling when they began kicking up and “accidentally” showing more than they needed.

“Stop, stop stop stop!” Historia suddenly yelled just before the song officially ended. Cymbals clashed together, and she sent a glare in the conductor’s direction before stomping over to where Hange and the managers stood.

“This is ridiculous. They are more interested in the chorus than they are the main character!”

“Well, Historia, it’s a bit hard to focus on anything else when these girls are right in their faces,” Hange said, snapping their fingers at the dancers. They quickly scattered, giggling as they ran off to different spots on the stage.

Armin finally was given a chance to breathe, straightening out and looking at Historia.

“I assure you that was not my intention,” Armin said, cheeks flushed. He cleared his throat. He thought about complimenting her voice, but decided against it because he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do that.

Keith Shadis had retreated somewhere private, only just now coming back.

“What’s going on?” His voice boomed, almost creating an echo in the auditorium with the power behind it.

He seemed to piece together what was going on just as Historia began talking, because he sighed and said, “Frau Historia, I can assure you that their attention was not on the ballerinas.”

“That is false! You didn’t see the way they were looking at them.”

Armin couldn’t quite wrap his head around why Historia was so pressed about this—she was already married, after all, and seemed to be in a very happy relationship based on all the pictures he saw.

Ymir came up behind Historia, softly putting a hand on her shoulder. “Love, calm down.

After Historia jerked Ymir’s hand off her shoulder and said something in a different language, she walked away. Ymir was left rubbing her temples, quietly reminding herself that she loved Historia.

Armin wondered if that was true.

“I’m leaving! If my new managers are not excited by their lead soprano then I refuse to do it!” Historia said, throwing her arms up as she stomped towards the exit. “It’s good I do it now before this show ruins my career anyways!”

She reached up, undoing something on her headdress before carelessly tossing it to the floor.

Shadis let out a long, tired sigh before glancing at Erwin. “You’d better go and convince her otherwise. She’s all we got.”

Erwin nodded, grabbing Armin by the arm and following Historia. Erwin began saying praises to her, calling her a mistress of song and goddess of music. Armin felt like he needed to grovel as well.

“Doesn’t Elissa have an aria in Act Three? Do you think you could give us a sample of that?”

Historia stopped, hands on her hips as she turned around. She looked at Armin for a moment, her gaze hard as stone.

“Yes, but I don’t have my costume for it because some people are incompetent and can’t seem to grasp the concept of time management!” she said, her voice gradually growing louder with each word she said. Her face flushed as her eyes became glassy, and it was clear she was trying to cry. “This entire thing is a joke, and I hate the fucking headdress!”

Armin slightly flinched back at her loud voice before quickly righting himself.

She can’t be the only option, right? he thought.

“Surely, though, you could give us just a hint at your talent?” Erwin asked. He went along with what Armin suggested, giving him a gentle pat on the back. “Unless, of course, your conductor objects?”

Erwin looked behind him at where Marlowe stood, hands clutching the sides of his music stand so tight his knuckles turned white. He opened his mouth to speak, but Historia held a hand up.

“Fine.” She dabbed at her fake tears, careful not to ruin her elaborate makeup. “If my managers command. Herr Freudenberg?”

Marlowe let out a heavy breath, standing straight. “If the queen commands.”

Historia nodded, snapping her fingers and yelling for everyone to be quiet as she returned to the center of the stand.

Armin asked Shadis why he was retiring before he left, to which Shadis quickly replied, “My health.” It was a lie Armin didn’t believe now that he had seen how the Eldia’s Sweetheart could truly be.

Historia softly nodded as the song started, holding her arm out. She glanced at Armin and Erwin before beginning to sing.

She didn’t have the right tone for the song, her voice high and scratchy, almost as if being a soprano wasn’t in her vocal range. She added an unnecessary amount of vibrato, making it unclear what exactly she was saying.

Armin internally cringed, making a note to talk about replacing Historia later with Erwin. His face, though, held a soft smile and look of approval to contrast his displeasure.

Something snapped, making Armin look up and see one of the rolled up backgrounds falling to the ground. His eyes widened, and he quickly moved forward to try and move Historia out of the way.

The fabric reached her before he did, and Historia was partially crushed underneath it. She gasped dramatically when Armin moved the roll off her, screaming and cursing in another language.

“It wasn’t me!” someone exclaimed. The rolled background was pulled back up. Armin craned his head to look up, seeing a man wearing a simple beige button up with dark hair working the mechanics. “Neither Reiner nor I were at our posts.”

“D’you think it was the opera ghost?” one of the chorus girls asked.

“Oh, imagine if it was,” another said, almost dreamily.

Others seemed more panicked at the mention of this opera ghost. The air around them seemed to change, becoming colder and more eerie. Armin saw Hange sneaking away, going off somewhere secluded.

He thought about asking who this opera ghost was, but couldn’t even get a word out before Historia was throwing another fit.

“I’ve had it! This has been happening for as long as I’ve been the lead soprano, and no one has stopped it from happening. Not my first manager, not Shadis and most certainly not you two!” She pointed to Armin and Erwin.

Erwin opened his mouth to say something, getting out one unintelligible word before Historia continued.

“I’m really leaving this time, see! Walking away and I’m not coming back.”

She really was walking away, being followed by Ymir.

Neither Armin nor Erwin thought it was worth chasing her. Instead, the two let out a sigh.

Marlowe loudly cursed, now complaining that they had no main star, and thus no show.

Armin asked about an understudy, only for that suggestion to be shot down when Marlowe stressed that Historia always refused to have an understudy.

Erwin softly asked if there was a chance of Historia coming back, knowing that there wasn’t but quietly asking Armin anyway.

Hange appeared beside them, being sure to keep Armin and Erwin on their right side so they could see them clearly.

“Doubt it. She’s very flaky. Like a cat. But anyways, I have a letter for you two from the opera ghost.” Hange smiled as they handed Armin the letter.

It was a crisp envelope, much nicer than any Armin had ever seen, and it was sealed with crimson wax in the shape of a head.

“The ghost again? I’m sure he’s nothing more than a fairy tale,” Armin commented, only to go unheard.

“He welcomes you to his opera house—“

“His opera house?” Erwin said as Hange continued speaking.

“—and asks that you continue to leave box five empty and open for his use.” Hange motioned to one of the balcony seats, the box known to have the best view of the stage, as Armin opened the letter and read it.

“He also requests that we continue leaving him a twenty thousand coin salary monthly,” Armin said after reading the sign-off. He handed it to Erwin, who seemed shocked beyond belief.

“Twenty thousand? That’s excessive, no? Especially for someone we haven’t even met.” Erwin read over the letter more than once, his eyes seemingly unable to conceive the words written.

“Herr Shadis used to leave him that. I’m sure with the viscount as your patron you can manage more?” Hange smirked, knowingly teasing them. They didn’t respond to Erwin’s indirect order of meeting the phantom, instead pretending they didn’t hear it.

“We were hoping to make that announcement public later this evening after the show, but now it seems we can’t do that.” Erwin breathed out, unintentionally crushing the letter in his hand as Hange stepped away. “That’s a full house, Armin. We’d have to refund a full house. Do you have any idea how much money that is?”

Hange had made their way over to one of the dancers, who was talking to another chorus member as she retied the ribbons on her pointes.

“Y/n L/n could sing it. Her lessons have really paid off.” Hange gently placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, making her stop conversation with Mikasa and look up at the sound of her name.

“A chorus girl?” Erwin asked tentatively, unsure.

“We should give it a try, Erwin,” Armin quietly said. “We have no other options.”

Erwin sighed, motioning Y/n forward. “Who has been giving you lessons?”

Y/n glanced to her side at Mikasa, who softly nudged her forward before approaching her managers.

“I don’t know his name, sir,” she softly said, bowing when she was in front of them.

Erwin almost rejected her, but Armin gave him a look and he obliged. “Alright, then. The aria?”

Y/n nodded as the two moved away and allowed her to have the stage. She nervously glanced back at Hange and Mikasa, who both nodded with encouraging smiles, when the music started.

In the time she took to start Erwin made a brief, quiet comment about this only making him more nervous. That gave Y/n some motivation, as she wanted to impress. She had always wanted to be an opera singer, and right now was her one chance to snag that position.

She started nearly half a beat late, but the sound of her voice—light and airy compared to Historia, but still powerful—ceased any other comments Erwin had. Her nerves seemed to get the best of her, because she took a step back. She felt Hange’s soft hold on her arm, and she turned her head to look at them as she continued.

“You got this,” they quietly said, smiling before letting go of her arm and stepping back with Mikasa.

Y/n smiled, and before she knew it she was in the dressing room meant for Historia.

Her costume for the aria was elaborate, red and green and covered in gold accents everywhere you looked. The costume designers had really come through with this one. Her hair was pulled back to better show her face, and thin golden chains decorated her person everywhere.

She felt alive on that stage, and in that moment she knew this is exactly what she was meant to do. Her smile was so bright and genuine it could’ve lit up the world, and there was an obvious tone of excitement in her voice as she sang.

She almost didn’t believe it, and was expecting to wake up from this absolute dream any moment. She only decided it was real when she felt hot with the lights surrounding her.

She knew, somewhere deep down, that her Angel of Music was listening to her. She knew that her father was smiling down at her with pride, and she felt good knowing that both figures had helped her reach this point.

Her Angel of Music was listening. Down, somewhere deep in the underground tunnels of the opera house, he was listening to her angelic voice knowing he had created it. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall as he simply listened.

In box five, someone else was listening and falling deeply in love with the woman on stage. Viscount Jean Kirstein, the only occupant in the box, entranced as he stared at Y/n in awe. He had suspected he’d known her long ago, and that fact was only confirmed when he heard her voice.

Jean left box five just as Hange was walking up to the box, and they quickly hid in the shadows so as not to be seen.

Even if they were in plain sight Jean wouldn’t have noticed them. He was too focused on trying to find flowers and being the first to see Y/n after the opera.

When Y/n finished her performance, she beamed as the entire audience simultaneously stood and gave her a round of applause. She almost wasn’t sure what to do with herself, but the curtains eventually closed and she giddily ran back to Mikasa, silently screaming with her as she was congratulated by the entire cast.

And when the curtains were pulled back once more to give thanks to the cast and helpers, Y/n was handed so many bouquets of flowers she needed help carrying them.

But she had never been more proud of herself in her life, and she was glad she was sharing this moment with her father, her Angel of Music, and Mikasa.

I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter for this.

ngl I had like zero motivation and then suddenly I wanted to write it and I finished this in one day

anyways, my statements from last time still stand, and if you'd like to be tagged just comment or DM me

-Izzy <3

next part >>

TAGGING: @antichristisbby @rebekah-george

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paranoidginger · 5 months ago

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Lab-rat part 10

Tw: N/A

Bait sat in the common room, a small smile on his face as he listened to one of the Scout's many stories, a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders.

"So I'm out with my brothas, right? All reallllll rough and tumble types ah' guys, I'm only fifteen, and I see this person who I think is a cute chick, I'm only seeing her back, and she's got this super nice long hair. My older brotha, he notices me eye'n this broad, and he's all 'Shoot ya shot, man' so I look at him, all nervous n' crap, and go walk over to her. This. Now this is where it starts to get good, right? Because I go over and try to talk to her, and she turns around and turns out she was a whole man. He's got this super thick moustache, and I immediately recognize him. Dude's wearin' a wig, and he looks at my brotha and they both start losing their damn minds, 'cause the guy was my oldest brotha's best friend! Then the pieces fall together, 'cause my brother would never be that encouraging to me when it comes to a cute chick, he'd always, and I mean always, be the one to start hittin' on em, and then I think, and I realize that it's April freakin' first. They went through this whole plan, just to make me have a crush on my brotha's best friend. It didn't work though, I mean, I already decided to like girls, and I couldn't just go back 'n betray all the hot babes that wouldn't ever have a chance with me if I liked fellas, you know?"

Most of what the man said didn't make much sense to Bait, but Scout sounded so happy whenever he told his stories... It felt nice to be the one he could share whatever he liked with, just because he would listen...

The pair were interrupted as the Medic approached them, his boots clicking softly on the hardwood floors of the base.

"Sorry to intrude, but zhe shipment came in for our friend! Bait, if you are ready, we can get started on getting you put back together." The Medic smiled slightly, although it wavered slightly as he spoke the Clone's name. It felt wrong, filthy, even... But it was what the other team had called him, and what he continued to answer to while he tried to think of a name for himself.

"I'm ready..." He spoke quietly, getting to his feet and extending a hand so that he could be guided to the infirmary.

"He's... He's gonna be okay, right doc?" The Scout asked cautiously "I know you've got a knack for that kinda stuff but... I don't know, I'm- I'm just nervous. After what happened the other day when he wasn't wakin' up..."

"You know Zhat he is in safe hands, I von't let anyzhing go wrong, Junge." Gently, the medic took the clone's hand, beginning to lead him down the hall to where the procedures would be done.

Hours passed in an unconscious state, Bait's body laying on the Medic's operating table as he diligently worked, removing the horrid stuffing within the clone's body and replacing it with what belonged, saving his eyes for last.

The most delicate of procedures as nerves were mended together, and fine muscles reattached until finally, he could look at the clone's face and see that it was whole again. All of him would be whole again, for the first time in who knows how long.

Eventually, the young man slowly came to, a strange pressure in his face that he wasn't yet used to... And yet he still could not see. It wasn't the same as it had been before, though, his vision filled with simple darkness, as opposed to the void beyond it... But why was it still so dark? Slowly, he sat up in his little recovery bed, carefully touching his face, finding himself bandaged with gauze covering his eyes.

He turned his head to the door as he heard it open and shut, the familiar voices of the Medic and Spy.

"I'm glad to see zhat you're awake! Herr Spy vanted to be here for vhenever I took zhe bandages off." The Medic explained moving to sit on the edge of Bait's bed. "I have zhe lights off for now, being able to see again vill most likely be a very big transition for you." With that, the Medic carefully unraveled the bandages from around the clone's head, and he was finally able to open his eyes.

He took a deep breath, the motion easier than it had been before as he looked around the room, in shock as he was able to take in everything around him. A shaky laugh escaped him, and he began to smile. After a moment, he pulled the medic into a firm hug, his laughter turning to small sobs, tears of joy running down his face as he felt an extra set of arms around him, just for a moment.

As he pulled away from the Medic, wiping his tears with the heel of his palm, he looked up at the Spy, who had a rare genuine smile on his face.

"I told you the docteur would treat you well. Everyone here has been rooting for you, mon garçon... Myself especially."

Part 9

@thatonesimp-e @realccre

Another sweeter chapter, before everything goes to hell.

#tf2 #tf2 spy #tf2 ocs #tf2 spy oc #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 Lab-rat

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lichtecht · 8 months ago

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PART 21

of the dfk audiobook translation

@cnka

Narrator (audiobook): The next morning the Externs amuse themselves with our friends' film in the classroom.

They are especially laughing at Uli and his costume. („Oh my god!“ „Look at the hair!“)

Uli sits at his table and stares into the air.

Uli (whispers): "12 days left until Sylt."

Musti: „But can we talk about how… sexy he looks?“ Externs: (loud laughter) Eggi: „She wouldn’t be my type!“

Narrator (audiobook): Uli has noticed the laughter and walks up to the group of Externs.

The laughter dies.

Uli: „Uh, what have you got there?“ Ruda: „Nothing. Just a very funny clip.“ Uli: „Is that Jo's phone?“ Ruda, in a sing-song voice: „No, that’s mine now!“ Uli: „Hey, give it back!“

Narrator (audiobook): Uli tries to snatch the phone from Ruda's hand, but she escapes from him.

Matze also jumps up and chases after to help Uli. Eggi grabs him.

Eggi: „You stand still!“ Ruda: „I’m posting that now!“ Uli: „Leave it! Just give back the phone...!"

Narrator (audiobook): Ruda is merciless and goes one step further.

Ruda: „I’m posting it now.“ Uli: „Please don’t! Come on, leave it, please.“

Narrator (audiobook): The Externs have snatched Uli and stuck him in a big trash can.

Matze: „Leave Uli alone! He’s far too weak!“

Narrator (audiobook): Matze wants to help his friend, but a few Externs put him in a headlock.

Ruda: „Guys, take him up!“ Uli: „No, nononono, no! Please don’t!“

Narrator (audiobook): The Externs know no pity. They hoist the trash can, in which the little Uli is stuck helplessly, onto the big closet that is standing right next to the blackboard. Then Frau Kreuzkamm enters the classroom.

Uli: „Please let me down! Please!“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „What is going on here?!“

Narrator (audiobook): So far, Frau Kreuzkamm hasn’t noticed Uli.

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Quiet, please! Sit down!“

The kids scamper to their seats and sit down.

Martina and Jo arrive.

Matze, whispering to the girls: „Hey guys! Uli!“

Martina turns around and sees Uli.

Martina: "Oh God."

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Good Morning!“ The class, in unison: „Good Morning, Frau Kreuzkamm!“ Uli, quietly, on the top of his shelf: „Good Morning, Frau Kreuzkamm…“

Narrator (audiobook): Ruda provocatively waves Jo's phone in her direction. Our friend is fed up. She jumps up from her seat, snatches her phone from Ruda’s table and sits back down.

Ruda, whispering: „Hey, are you crazy?“

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Jo! Stay seated!“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Cell phones are not permitted in class. We’ll start striking a different tone in here now. Sebi? Spell the word 'libretto'.“ Sebi: „L… I-B-R-E-T-T-O.“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Uli, spell the word… 'ensemble'.“ (quiet laughter from some of the students) Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Herr von Simmern?!“

Narrator (audiobook): Frau Kreuzkamm still hasn’t noticed where Uli is. He starts spelling.

Uli: „E… N… S…“

Narrator (audiobook): Only now does she spot our poor friend in the garbage can.

Uli: „E…“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „What is going on here?!“ Uli: „M…“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „You guys must be nuts! Matze, why didn’t you stop this?!“ Uli: „B…“ Matze: „They were just too many!“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Get him down from there immediately!“

Matze, Martina and Jo jump up to help, but it's Sebi and some of the others who put Uli up there that get him back down.

Uli: „Careful!“ Random kid: „Sorry, Uli.“ Uli: „Please be careful…“

Narrator (audiobook): Finally, Uli has solid ground under his feet again and is freed from the garbage can. But the head master’s good mood has noticeably vanished.

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Notebooks out. We’re writing a surprise dictation.“

(Complaints from the class („Ugh!“ „What!?“ „Whyyy??“))

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „All of the nonsense that happens is not only the fault of those who do it, but also those who do not prevent it.“

Narrator (Nichtraucher): Uli wasn’t listening. He didn’t notice how difficult the punctuation, the capitalization and the foreign terms were this time. To him, Frau Kreuzkamm's dictation, in which the best grade was a 3 and that was still talked about for years after, didn’t matter. He was only thinking about the few days left until the summer break and made a decision.

The school bell rings. The kids stand up and pack their things.

#dfk 2023 audiobook translation #das fliegende klassenzimmer #dfk #das fliegende klassenzimmer 2023 #direktorin kreuzkamm saying this quote is so ://////#it’s just out of character for her #it doesn’t fucking fit #stop!!!!!#mine #also matze like “nooo uli is far too weak !!”#💀#and “a few Externs have put Matze in a headlock” “it was far too many”#......#at least *try* to make that seem believable??

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eruditetyro · 11 months ago

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tagged by @thriftdyke

let your spotify predict your 2024! shuffle your on repeat playlist, and the first twelve songs represent your 2024

I am using my repeat rewind playlist instead because this past week I've been on the more emo side of my taste and it was kind of depressing as far as predictions go. like velodrome by dessa and hollow by cloudeater and tired as fuck by the staves. SO. this is less depressing. choosing a better story.

January - When I'm Gone - Phil Ochs

so I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here. turning towards life and action in January.

February - Girls Against God - Florence + the Machine

well. not only are we turning towards life and action, we're fighting god. and asking people if they want to talk about our intimacy issues.

March - Priestess - Pumarosa

March IS a dancing month! also check out the intimacy between the singer and her subject here. month of secrets held between two people??

April - Glass - Blood Cultures

this one doesn't really have lyrics but it's a BOP. I associate this song with travel and dancing and nighttime. more dancing!

May - Beyond The Clouds - The Poppy Family

for the sun shines for those who look beyond the clouds... very sort of romantic quiet alonetime in the sun. daytime driving song. a peaceful and lovely month!

June - Altitude - Eliot Moss

this is a blues dancing song to me. it's sort of a bleak one. month of don't look down, don't look down, i know you want me to. it goes away if you want it to, but you smile and you stay because you want it !

July - Drunk Walk Home - Mitski

very July sort of song. perhaps I quit my job? or I have a little breakup. whatever it is, there's some catharsis from whatever sort of strain was happening in June.

August - True Love Will Find You In The End - Daniel Johnston

this is a promise with a catch. only if you're looking can it find you. some sort of new vulnerability, with or without love found-- might not be the end. we'll see!

September - Rock Star - Hole

hmm. some angst in september, but in a hot fun grunge rebel way.

October - Kill Me - indigo De Souza

yeah it's like that sometimes. distance between me and someone. irish goodbye from some party or other.

November - Geyser - Mitski

oh i see. it's about my relationship with myself again. whatever was going on with de souza in october gets metabolized and turned into strength. regular sort of cycle tbh.

December - Herr Mannelig - Garmarna

well, either i do some sort of ritual or i finally visit scandanavia? good winter solstice song. i just looked it up and apparently it's about a mountain troll who proposes to a young christian man who refuses her. fun!

tagging @walcutt @premiumgelato @unloneliest @adhdnarut0, anyone else who wants to try!

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xplrvibes · 10 months ago

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alright curiosity got the better of me and i wanted to see these comments between m and c everyone is talking about. he called her his good luck charm im going to fkn melt thats the cutest shit ever colbyyyyy. shes such a babe. like damn girl makeup and skincare tutorial pls bc youre stunning asf.

anyway back to numerology. so naturally i did everyone in my life after working out how to get the number. my best friend, who i have been attached at the hip for 13 years, is a 22. and i’m a 9. maybe im her guide? wild. she is sooo a 22. like i was reading what that meant and i was just nodding the whole time like yep dasss herr lol

me and 9, eh idk. some parts of the description i read were accurate but other parts not so much. its like when i look up my zodiac sign its like ehh idk. idk if i believe in all this but its super fun either way to look into.

SAM LITERALLY SAID IN THAT VIDEO that they think colby is more psychic than they know. or whatever he said. AND YET AND YET they have done jack about it? *throws papers in the air* im out

- aussie anon

Yea I think it's cute, personally. I don't get the hate - I know why people are hating, I just don't get it lol. Let him be a cute little flirty guy in peace. And he was right, she truly is a "pretty girl."

For real, let him have his fun.

That's so funny cause that's the exact reaction I had when I read my number (which I don't even remember anymore). I was like eh...some parts fit, some don't. Now, astrology, on the other hand - I've never met a Pisces who Pisces'ed harder than I Pisces lol, but my life path number and I are not an exact match.

See our frustrations? Literally every time they mention Colby being more empathic or something, I get all excited and anticipate this finally being the time they DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, only for them to turn around the next second and just be like "so anyway, random streamer #2, we think you're psychic" and it's like NOOOOOOOOOO WTF! I don't know if the term "bad edging" has ever been coined, but if not, I'm coining it to describe when they do shit like this.

#asks #aussie anon

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noloveforned · 10 months ago

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no love for ned is back on wlur tonight from 8pm until midnight. tune in live if you have a little spare time where we'll be continuing the new winter theme that debuted last week. each show will start off with a song that quotes lyrics from another songs. you can stream last week's show on mixcloud as we start with a very thorough example.

no love for ned on wlur – january 12th, 2024 from 8-10pm

artist // track // album // label built to spill // you were right // keep it like a secret // warner bros. superchunk // everybody dies // everybody dies 7" // merge jj and the a’s // head in a vat // jj and the a’s ep // la vida es un mus discos grrrl gang // cool girl // spunky! // kill rock stars lupo cittá // one-two zero // lupo cittá // 12xu the second wife // sold memories // tourist // potluck foundation private life // keep it movin' // get me outta here cassette // open palm tapes closet straights // brisbane // closet straights // cobra snake necktie wagging // bent // my own private rodeo cassette // wagging industries nancy sinatra // something pretty // keep walkin'- singles, demos and rarities 1965-1978 // light in the attic starry eyes // n-n-n-nervous (acoustic) // starry eyes ep (expanded) // (self-released) the lemonheads // seven out // fear of living 7" // fire c-clamp // a stand still // meander and return // ohio gold bob dylan // girl from the north country // live at budokan on march 1st, 1978 // legacy landing // calmly // subscription series collection three cassette // vast arc hues jason gerycz, jen powers and matthew j. rolin // activator // activator // 12xu grover washington, jr. // joffure // live at the bijou // kudu kiyoshi sugimoto // jones street // our time // nippon eki shola // what is // kaeru // (self-released) mick jenkins featuring jid // smoke break-dance // the patience // rbc kool and the gang // fresh // emergency // de-lite tsha featuring mafro // giving up // capricorn sun // ninja tune devon cole // w.i.t.c.h. // 1-800-got-stress ep // arista self esteem // you forever // prioritise pleasure // fiction macie stewart // neon lights // neon lights digital single // full time hobby puzzles y dragones // el final de mi felicidad // recuerdos de puzzles y dragones // el genio equivocado herr wade featuring mark monnone // monnone alone t-shirt // monnone alone t-shirt ep // (self-released) mo troper // love of my life (so far) // troper sings brion // lame-o benji cossa // pickles // song service // serious business becky and the politicians // go fish // play the early hits of cub cassette // girlsville crabber // dogged by fortune // crabber crabber hey! // jigsaw

#wlur #radio shows

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wolveria · 1 year ago

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ARHHH

I've just caught up to the ravens hymn and I am SO PUMPED for our girl reid!!

she's (hopefully) finally gonna be free!!

and if she does, take 035 and 049 with her! I AM SO ROOTING FOR HERR AHH

amazing writing per usual, can't believe I missed so many chapters

so excited to see the next ones!!!

have a fantastic day or night and I'll see you next time ❣️🤝

Thank you, my dear! I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far and you're looking forward to the mayhem. There should be plenty of it

#sinisterlysince

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breedaboyd · 1 year ago

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Day 19 ~ Lipstick, Cherry Red

(Gif by me.)

Prompt: Crossdressing.

Pairing: Eli Klaber × Stephan Wolff (FTM!OC).

Word Count: 5.9k+

CW: Body worship, cross-dressing, jealousy, oral sex, vaginal sex.

"You want me to do what, sorry, Herr Voller?" Wolff asks.

"Forgive me for saying so Stephan but you have the most feminine figure out of all of us." Voller says and Wolff tries his best not to bristle at that. The plan is simple; sneak into the Berlin Anthropology Ball, where half of the dial is being kept, in disguise — seeing as their little troupe has since become quite well-known in the archeology circles — take it and then get the next plane back to America. Simple. Easy. Wolff isn't sure why Voller needs him to be the girl though. He rather thinks Klaber would make a very pretty girl. "Hauke is much to large for the dress, I will be staying behind, Cyrus really couldn't pull it off convincingly and Klaber's shoulders are much too broad. Besides." Voller continues. Wolff catches Cyrus smirk and, oh, he's never going to hear the end of this. "The dress should fit you perfectly."

"I'm not the girl type." Wolff says, trying desperately to keep his voice level, like his Anya taught him.

"Stephan." Voller says. "Neither is Hauke, neither is Cyrus and neither is Klaber. You, on the other hand, have...past experience." Wolff grits his teeth and Cyrus's smirk grows. Great. Wonderful.

"... Fine." Wolff relents with a huff. Voller smiles and claps his hands.

"Wunderbar."

The process of getting ready is long and torturous. Wolff shaves his face, his legs, his arms — everywhere because Voller insists that hair wouldn't look good showing through the dress, wouldn't look 'convincing' — files his nails, takes a bath and washes his hair and then... He's face-to-face with the wretched thing. He has to admit, it is pretty. It's a black, layered, knee-length number with a sweetheart neckline and big, puffy skirt. Voller even took the liberty of getting all the 'necessary accoutrements'; a pair of black stiletto heels, stockings, a pearl necklace, earrings and, dear Lord, a whole bag of makeup. Heaven knows where he got all this. As he lays everything out on the bed, a little bundle of cloth falls from the pile. He bends down and reaches for it, spreading the fabric in his fingers... A pair of lace panties? Wolff grits his teeth. Fucking Langstrom. He huffs out a sigh as he throws his towel in the laundry pile of his and Klaber's room. Go big or go home, he relents.

The lace slides effortlessly over the pale, milky flesh of his slim thighs before he starts on the garter belt and stockings. The silk feels wonderful against his freshly-shaved legs, Wolff notes as he clips them into the little bands. Experimentally, he slides on the heels and wanders in front of the mirror, his body slender and graceful, his ankles strong enough to carry him. Wolff admires himself for a moment; the heels really do wonders for his legs. Suddenly--

"Herr Doktor, I'm heading in already. Herr Voller said we have to stagger...our...entrances..." Klaber bursts in and just stops in the doorway, finding Wolff stood in front of the mirror in nothing but the panties, garter belt, stockings and heels. Wolff turns to Klaber, cheeks flushed red, his long, white curls spilling over his shoulders and Klaber stares. Wolff can't read his expression and for a moment he's terrified. "... Wow." Klaber breathes, his eyes raking up and down Wolff's slim frame.

"Klaber, I— I'm not finished yet." And Klaber remembers himself.

"S-Sorry!" He stammers and Klaber's cheeks flush pink as he shuts the door. Men.

Wolff huffs out a sigh and grabs the dress, sliding the silky material over his lithe form, over the slight curve of his backside and hips. He does his hair; sweeping half up, sticking it with a few pins, and curling the rest of it so it sits nicely. And, finally, the pearl necklace, the earrings and the makeup; mascara, blush, eyeshadow and a cherry red lipstick. He feels ridiculous but he looks gorgeous and Wolff can't help the swell of pride that bubbles in his chest as he steps out of the hotel room.

He steps out into the hallway and catches Voller's eye.

"Wonderful! Perfekt." Voller says. "Now, remember the plan; Klaber will go in first, in fact he's already there. You'll go in now. You find the dial, take it and make your way out. Klaber is your backup and driver. No distractions. Understand?" Wolff nods and Voller smiles, handing him a black clutch with all his necessary gear. "Good."

Wolff feels amiss, walking into the ballroom without his doctor's bag. He's so used to the weight of it in his palm, not the silkiness of the clutch. The heels are difficult to walk in too, Wolff notes as he slowly staggers his way through the party. He can see over everyone's heads — seeing as he's now 6'7" — and he looks for his partner in crime, his little pup, his Klaber. Finally, he spots the blonde by the buffet table, piling up a plate of food. Wolff sighs fondly. He makes his way over, standing over the blonde.

"Klaber." He says softly and the younger man drags his eyes along his slender frame.

"St-Stephan?" Klaber asks and Wolff can't stop the smirk creeping onto his ruby red lips. "You look— You're— Wow." Klaber breathes and Wolff flushes slightly, looking away to hide the heat that floods up his neck and graces his cheeks.

"... Thank you, Liebchen." He says softly before clearing his throat and returning to business. "Have you spotted the dial yet?"

"Oh, yeah." Klaber says. "East wing, third door on the left. They're practically begging for it to be taken, no guards or nothin'." Simple. Easy.

It's easy to find, the crowd of people ever thinning, as he gets closer and closer to the dial. He slips into the East wing and counts the doors; one, two and...three. Wolff steps inside and— It's empty. There's a glass case sat on a little pedestal and, sure enough, the dial is inside. Not even a lock. He steps closer, studying the artefact closely. Everything seems to be in check but...no. Something's wrong. It doesn't look like it did in all the pictures, in all the diagrams, in all the articles Wolff has studied. It looks fake. He pulls a penknife from his clutch — thank God, they didn't frisk him — and opens it, prising the dial from its stand. He feels the heft of it. It's metal but...it's too light. It's not as detailed either. And, sure enough, when Wolff scrapes the knife across the surface... It scratches easily. Everything about this dial is wrong. It's a fake.

Wolff slips from the room and makes his way back to the thick of the crowd in the ballroom.

Klaber is still stuffing his face and Wolff spots him from afar. It's obvious he never grew up around people of decorum, especially with the looks he's getting. Wolff decides a drink is in order after all, if he can't bring Voller back good news, he might as well enjoy himself.

Wolff finds his way to the bar and orders himself a whiskey. Suddenly, a rather handsome, young man pulls up alongside him at the bar.

"Well, hello, gorgeous. What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone, huh?" The man — a brunette with dark eyes and stubble — asks and Wolff shrugs.

"Just getting a drink and taking in the scenery." Wolff says, grabbing his whiskey and taking a sip.

"Name's Mark." The man says and Wolff studies him.

"Stella." He lies and the man smiles. Another man sidles up to Wolff, offering his name and business card. In an odd way, he likes the attention. This is what he missed out on when he started transitioning, when he started down the path he chose. Of course, he would never go back but it's interesting — nice, even — to feel so wanted, so attractive.

And the men throwing themselves at him aren't half bad looking; journalists, archeologists, historians and other sorts in the same vein. Of course, Wolff tends to find himself in the company of gentlemen of the 'meathead' variety so this is a welcome change.

"What say you come back to my hotel room, missy?" One of the men asks boldly and Wolff decides to play along.

"Oh, maybe~"

"Could I buy you another drink?" Another asks and Wolff hums.

"Please~ You're all so kind."

"Wanna take a spin on the dance-floor, beautiful?" Yet another says and Wolff smiles.

"Maybe in a little while. I'm enjoying myself here for now, handsome~" He purrs back, leading every one of them on with a gentle brush of his fingers or a wink or a smile. It's effortless and Wolff could almost imagine he's back in Hungary again; sucking off men like these outside a club and taking cocks deep in his hungry cunt for money, pressed up against the dark corner of a dive bar. Wolff swirls his whiskey and catches Klaber watching him from afar, eyes burning with jealousy as he storms over. A strong hand curls around Wolff's slender waist and the crowd of bachelors glare at him. He glares at them in turn, a feral dog, ready to bite. Klaber's eyes burn — Wolff swears he can smell the smoke — and he tightens his grip, his fingertips digging into the soft, silky fabric of the dress. The blonde snarls.

"Get lost, assholes." Klaber growls and Wolff smirks, swirling his whiskey. One of the braver ones — a journalist — steps up.

"Fuck off, buddy. She's clearly having a good time." He says and Klaber bares his teeth, his free hand pulling back his jacket to reveal his gun holsters. The men go pale, faces dropping.

"Yeah? Well, she's mine, got it?" Klaber snaps and the crowd of men fall silent. "Mine. Now, get lost before I rip your fuckin' throats out." Wolff bites his ruby red bottom lip and Klaber leads them away, his grip possessive and tight.

Klaber pulls him outside and Wolff has a feeling he's in trouble.

"Klaber—"

"Get in the fuckin' car, Stephan."

The city is alive with light and sound but neither of them give a shit. Wolff's never seen this side of Klaber before. He can see the anger etched into his sweet features, the possessiveness, the jealousy.

"Klaber, I—" Wolff tries but Klaber snarls.

"Don't." He says and the two drive in silence. It was a bit of fun; a drink and a laugh. He wasn't actually going to sleep with any of them. Klaber knows that, doesn't he? But, no, he really doesn't. He's still caught up in questioning why a man like Stephan would ever take a liking to a man like him and, seeing him with those men, it ate him up inside.

He's always been jealous, even when he was a kid. He had a foul temper and he was quick to violence but, God, Klaber's never felt jealousy like this. Wolff's a grown man. He can do whatever the Hell he wants but still. Klaber hates the thought of Stephan being with anyone else, the thought of him touching someone else — kissing, biting, fucking — and, oh, it boils his blood. He knows he shouldn't feel this way, knows he shouldn't get angry but, then again, it's not often a man like him gets a chance with a man like him. He'll be damned if anyone is going to ruin this, even if it was just harmless fun.

The two pull into the hotel parking lot and Klaber storms inside. Wolff trails behind him and Klaber snarls harshly as they make their way back to their room, not even stopping by Voller's room to give him the news about the fake dial. Klaber throws open their hotel room door and Wolff steps inside, the door closing behind them. The blonde rounds on him and Wolff stiffens. Oh, this is new. Wolff's not sure he's ever seen him like this, never seen him so...possessive. But, no, this tantrum ends now.

He steps up to Klaber, standing a good couple of inches taller than the blonde, and grasps his jaw, forcing the younger man to look up at him.

"Liebchen. You know you don't talk to me like that." He says, voice firm yet soft. "There's no need to be jealous. Especially of them." Wolff presses their bodies flush together and Klaber huffs out a petulant sigh. "Klaber, there's no-one I'd rather have in my arms than you. Liebchen, you're my everything..." He breathes and the blonde almost breaks down crying as Wolff presses a chaste kiss to his lips. Klaber melts and Wolff cups his cheeks as he feels the younger man start to relax beneath him but then— Oh, love, he's crying. Wolff brushes Klaber's tears away with his thumbs and the blonde sobs. So much pent-up fear and anger finally spilling down his cheeks.

"Steph— Herr Doktor, I-I'm sorry." He chokes and Wolff holds him close.

"Shhh, shhh, Liebchen. It's okay, it's okay." He soothes, gently stroking a hand through Klaber's thick, blonde hair.

"I just... I was so scared. I didn't...want you to...leave me." The younger man lets the tears flow and Wolff can still see the little boy they picked up in Kentucky, that hot summer day. Klaber clutches Wolff desperately, desperately afraid that, if he doesn't, the older man will leave him, will cast him aside, will realise that he's not good enough and find someone better. Wolff wraps his arms around him tight, pressing a gentle kiss to his crown.

"There's no chance of that, not a single one." He leans down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to Klaber's neck, whispering between each press of his mouth. "You're my mutt. My sweet, little pup. My Liebchen." Klaber shudders and Wolff purrs against his skin. "Mine." He says and the blonde whines.

"Herr Doktor— I-I wanna—"

"Shhh, shush." Wolff says softly. "Let me take care of you, Liebchen. Okay? Let me show you who you belong to."

"Y-Yes, Herr Doktor." Klaber breathes and Wolff hums, cupping the blonde's strong jaw.

"Good dog."

Wolff guides the two towards the bed and Klaber's cheeks flush pink. Wolff breaks the kiss and Klaber stares, transfixed, once again just drinking in how beautiful the medic looks all dolled up.

"Would you like to help me out of this ridiculous outfit, mutt?" He asks and the blonde can't nod fast enough. Wolff spins to give him access to the buttons at the back, the skirt fanning out for just a moment. Klaber fiddles with the buttons, parting them slowly, revealing the smooth, pale expanse of his back. He gently eases the shoulder straps from Wolff's shoulders, pulling them down his arms and exposing his slender frame. Wolff steps out of the dress and Klaber stares, his eyes raking over the medic's lithe form, over the dip of his slim waist, the gentle curve of his backside, his strong, milky thighs and— Wolff turns.

God, he's so gorgeous; long, white locks cascading over his shoulders, lips painted a glossy cherry red, the pearl necklace perfectly accentuating his stark collarbone, the garter belt clinging to his smooth, pale abdomen and, fuck, Klaber can feel his cock twitch. He so wants to drop to his knees, worship this man like he deserves, show Wolff just how devoted he is. Tonight's about his reassurance, his devotion, his submission. "Like what you see, mutt?" He purrs and the blonde can only manage a nod.

Wolff slides to sit on the edge of the bed, folding one leg over the other, the motion fluid and natural. Klaber swallows dryly. Wolff curls his finger and the blonde practically launches himself forwards, kneeling automatically. "There's my good boy. Much better now, aren't you, Liebchen?" Wolff coos and Klaber nods, his heart thumping hard in his chest. The medic smiles fondly and threads a hand through the blonde's thick, blonde hair. "Look at you. Such a loyal mutt." He says and Klaber butts his head into his slender palm, desperate for affection, desperate for his touch. Wolff chuckles fondly and continues to stroke his hair.

"Can I— Pl-Please, let me— I need to—" He starts, words coming out all at once.

"What do you want, mutt?"

"W-Wanna touch you. Please." He sighs and the older man unfolds his legs, holding one out for the blonde, the smooth line of it ending perfectly in the stiletto. Klaber swallows dryly and Wolff smiles warmly. He can't believe Stephan is letting him touch him — wants him to touch him — dressed like this. Klaber ghosts his calloused hands over the medic's ankle and he flushes red, cheeks flushed pink.

"Go on. It's alright, pup. You can touch."

Klaber supports the ankle and presses kisses and soft kitten licks to the patent leather of the shoe, worshipping every inch of it. Wolff shudders as Klaber peppers open-mouthed kisses higher and higher up his leg; lips on the ankle, tongue across the stocking-clad calf, teeth grazing over the angle of the medic's knee. Wolff spreads his legs wider and Klaber moans against the silk stocking, littering the medic's thigh with loving, reverent kisses, his stubble scratching against the delicate fabric.

"Good dog." Wolff purrs and the blonde whimpers. Wolff slides from the bed and Klaber crawls forwards, his strong, rough hands on the back of the medic's thigh, pressing more kisses along the smooth, milky flesh, laving his tongue over the hem of the stocking, where silk meets skin. Oh, he's so close, he can smell how wet Wolff is, the lace of his panties soaked with slick. Klaber's mouth waters as he rests his cheek on Wolff's thigh, only an inch away from the gusset of the panties, breathing in the sweet, musky scent of the older man's arousal. Wolff cups Klaber's strong, stubbled jaw, tilting his chin up. The blonde whines desperately and Wolff smirks. "Are you hungry?" He asks and he nuzzles his strong jaw against the medic's hand, begging, pleading. "Use your words, mutt."

"Y-Yes, Herr Doktor. Please. I'm starving." He sighs and Wolff pets his hair.

"Alright, Liebchen. But no taking the panties off just yet." Klaber nods eagerly and Wolff spreads his thighs, slotting them either side of the blonde's broad, muscular shoulders. Klaber's breath stutters as the medic hooks a long, slender leg over his shoulder and the blonde's mouth waters. Wolff's already so wet; the lace darkened with slick, his clit swollen, his inner thighs shiny with his own juices. He smells like sweet ambrosia and Klaber aches. Wolff strokes a hand through his blonde hair and the younger man butts his head into his slender palm. "Go on. Eat." And that's all the encouragement he needs.

Klaber turns his head to lick the sweetness from Wolff's inner thighs, tonguing desperately at the pale, velvety flesh. The older man's breath hitches. Oh, the blonde's so close to where he needs him, so close. Klaber mouths along the hem of the lace, Wolff's slick smearing across his strong, stubbled jaw. He presses kisses to the front panel, feeling the heat, the soft mound beneath the lace. And Wolff lets him take his time.

Klaber leans in close, the lace gusset dampening even further under his hot, wet, eager breaths. God, Stephan smells so good. He laps a hot, wet stripe over the gusset and Wolff shudders, throwing his head back, his white locks spilling over his slim shoulders. The texture of the wet lace on his tongue feels divine and Klaber moans between his legs, his large, rough hands sliding to cradle his thighs. The medic cards a hand through the younger man's hair. "G-Good dog." He sighs and the blonde groans against the lace, his stubble scratching against the smooth, milky expanse of his inner thigh. Klaber sucks the lace into his mouth, wringing the slick from it, pooling it on his tongue and savouring the sweetness of it. Sweet, baby-blue eyes gaze up at Wolff, heavy-lidded and hazy, there's the Klaber he knows.

Gently, the blonde tugs the gusset to one side, exposing Wolff's pretty cunt. His folds are flushed a dark, rosy pink, glistening with slick, his lips puffy and sensitive. Klaber can't help the little moan that escapes him; Wolff is so, so gorgeous. With two fingers, he spreads the medic open for him. Wolff shudders and Klaber drinks in the sight of him.

"... Y-You're so pretty, Herr Doktor. God, you're so wet." He sighs and Wolff cups his strong, stubbled jaw.

"This is what you do to me, Liebchen." Wolff says fondly and the blonde butts his head into his slender palm, yearning for his praise. "Go on. Have a taste, Liebchen." And, oh, Klaber's more than happy to oblige.

The blonde drags his tongue between Wolff's wet, dripping folds and, fuck, he tastes as good as he smells. Klaber can't help the little groan spilling from his lips as he starts slow, tracing the flat of his tongue over his lips, licking the medic's slick from his folds. "Mmnn... There's a good dog." He purrs and the younger man huffs out a groan. His tongue licks slow, languid circles around Wolff's stiff clit before sealing his lips around it. Klaber suckles the little bundle of nerves, Wolff's cunt twitching against his lips. The medic threads a hand through the blonde's thick, blonde hair, his fingers curling in the golden locks. "O-Ohh, good dog... Such a good, good mutt..." He breathes and Klaber keens sweetly, revelling in his praise.

Klaber's tongue dips lower, flicking a hot, wet stripe over Wolff's entrance and the older man sighs blissfully. Klaber tongues at Wolff's cunt, finally sinking his tongue into his tight, wet heat and the medic's breath hitches. Klaber pushes his tongue deeper and Wolff moans softly. "K-Keep going, Liebchen... Nnnn... F-Feels so good..." He sighs and the blonde moans, desperately burying his face between the medic's spread thighs. Wolff's grip in Klaber's hair tightens and the blonde whines. He grinds his cunt against his mouth and Klaber's eyes roll back, drool and slick spilling down his chin. "O-Ohhh, such a good mutt... My good, little pup... L-Look at you." Wolff coos and Klaber shudders. "Deeper, deeper, Klaber..." He pants out and the blonde obeys, tongue sinking in as far as it'll go. Klaber swirls his tongue inside him and the medic whines. The blonde fucks him with his tongue, the muscle curling and twisting inside him and Wolff throws his head back, his white locks spilling down his slim, pale back. This is exactly what he needed; his mutt on his knees, eating his cunt like a starving man. Klaber's so sweet, so gentle, so good.

Wolff's eyes start to rolls back, his first peak beginning to crest. "L-Liebchen, just like that... I'm— I'm getting close..." He pants out and Klaber doubles his efforts, fucking Wolff with his tongue, his nose grinding against his stiff, swollen clit and the medic's not going to last. "O-Oh, Liebchen... Good dog, good dog—" Wolff cries out and he peaks, his cunt clenching tight, his body shuddering. Slick spills into Klaber's mouth, flooding over his tongue and Wolff keens, thighs trembling, his grip in Klaber's blonde locks tight. Wolff's so pretty when he cums; painted lips parted in a silent cry, white locks cascading over his slim, pale shoulders, skin flushed a dusty pink. Klaber slowly tongues at his throbbing clit, drawing the medic's first climax out as long as he can...

As the medic slowly comes down from his high, Klaber sits back on his heels, thumbs drawing soothing circles on the inside of the older man's stocking-clad knee.

"... V-V good mutt." He pants out and Klaber can't help the adorably dopey grin that stretches across his features, his cheeks flushed red, slick smeared all over his face. "Think you deserve a reward, Liebchen." And he does because he's always so devoted and loving and sweet. The medic can't wait to spoil him. "Stand up for me, pup." Wolff says and, without thinking, the blonde gets to his feet. Wolff is at eye-level with his crotch and the older man can already see just how turned on he is, his cock twitching and aching in his slacks. Wolff palms Klaber through his trousers and the younger man whines, his hips bucking into the medic's palm. He's so hard, so desperate. Wolff can't wait to taste him.

Wolff undoes Klaber's belt, unbuttons his slacks and the fabric of his underwear is tenting painfully. Wolff pulls them down and Klaber's stiff, flushed cock bobs upward, his length throbbing in time with his pulse, the tip red and leaking. He's definitely not the biggest Wolff's ever had but that isn't the point. His cock is adorable, short but on the thicker side, his balls swollen and heavy and just so, so sensitive. Wolff wraps a slender hand around Klaber's shaft, the blonde's strong, rough hands finding his slim shoulders. The older man leans in and kisses the tip, cherry red lipstick staining his glans. Klaber man shudders and the medic hums fondly. He laps a hot, wet stripe over the underside of his stiff, aching length and Klaber moans, his jaw clenched tight. Slowly, he takes the blonde's cock into his mouth, tonguing at the thick vein along the underside. Klaber whimpers and Wolff knows exactly what he likes.

He sinks his head lower and Klaber's strong, rough hands slide to cradle his head, fingertips brushing the medic's pearl necklace. Wolff swirls his tongue around the younger man's shaft and Klaber huffs out a groan. Wolff sucks hard, cheeks hollowing and Klaber lets out this sweet, shuddery moan, his brows knitting together. Wolff swallows around him and the blonde chokes out a sob. The medic's head bobs steadily, the younger man's cock dragging against his hot, velvet tongue, the ruby red lipstick smearing across the hot flesh. Wolff knows just what he wants, what he needs.

"God, Herr Doktor..." Klaber sighs blissfully, his fingers carding through Wolff's white locks. Oh, Wolff knows and the medic hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, faster, and Klaber's knees almost buckle. "Your mouth's...so good... But you're... You're smearing your pretty makeup..." He breathes, as Wolff takes him to the back of his throat and gags, the wet sound making Klaber flush a deep pink. The medic's mascara begins to run as tears prick the corners of his eyes, dark streaks running down his cheeks. "So pretty, Herr Doktor..." Lipstick smears across the younger man's cock as Wolff takes him down again, tears rolling down his cheeks and Klaber's heart stops. He suddenly pulls away and Wolff looks up at him, lipstick staining his flushed, wet lips, his mascara smeared down his cheeks and, fuck, he's just so gorgeous. The blonde cums, then and there, white, pearly spend spurting across the medic's face, catching in his lashes. "F-Fuck, sorry, Herr Doktor...! I can't...hold it...! H-Hahh..." Klaber sobs and he's still cumming, thick ropes of white painting Wolff's lips and chin, the medic's eyes heavy-lidded and wanting. Wolff sighs softly, his tongue swiping over his swollen lips and Klaber moans at the sight, the last few spurts of cum landing across the older man's pale throat...

Wolff sits back on the bed and Klaber is helplessly transfixed by the pearly strands that have landed on his face, on his lips, his nose, his cheeks. He really made a mess of him. He really, really, really did...but he wears it so well. The older man purrs.

"Come here, pup. Lay down for me." He says and Klaber shuffles onto the bed. Wolff dips his fingers into the streak of cum on his cheek and Klaber whines softly as the medic spreads it across his lips. The blonde leans in and presses their mouths together, lapping the taste of his own spend from the medic's mouth, kissing him slow and sweet. And that has him throbbing again, his body aching and ready to go. But Wolff pulls away, standing beside the bed and slipping off the ruined lace panties before straddling Klaber's hips, grinding down against his cock. Rough, warm hands slide up and down the medic's stocking-clad legs, and Klaber loves the way Wolff's hair is mussed and fluffy, falling about his face full of ruined makeup.

"Herr Doktor... I'm...so happy I belong to you..." He sighs and Wolff smiles softly, leaning down to kiss the blonde, rolling his hips against him, slick coating the younger man's cock.

"Liebchen... You're my good pup, my mutt, and you always will be..." Wolff breathes, his fingertips digging into the blonde's broad shoulders.

"C-Can I...?" Klaber asks, his voice trailing off as he traces the silk of the garter belt, loving the way Wolff's hot cunt teases him with every subtle roll of his hips.

"Mmh... You can." He purrs and the blonde grasps his slender hips, sliding Wolff upwards so his thick, swollen clit brushes his shaft. The older man sighs in delight and Klaber holds his hips steady, rubbing his cock between Wolff's folds, slick coating his cockhead, pre-cum already starting to dribble out. Wolff gasps softly, grinding against him.

"A-Ahh... Does that feel good, Herr Doktor...?" Klaber asks and the older man sucks in a breath.

"Don't tease me, Liebchen. Of course, it feels good. It's you." He purrs back, grinding against him again and Klaber whines softly.

"Herr Doktor, I wanna... Wanna fuck you...so badly..." He sighs and Wolff's eyelids flutter. He can't believe he's letting Klaber have him like this; dressed up like a girl, riding his cock like the pretty slut he is.

"Do it, pup. Fuck me..." He purrs and the blonde huffs out a desperate sigh, pulling Wolff flush against him and sinking into him. The medic cries out, his silk-clad thighs trembling as the blonde sinks in to the hilt. Klaber's cock is thick enough to spread him open nice and wide. "Mmmnn... J-Just like that... Such a good dog, Liebchen... Such a good, good pup..." The blonde is breathless, gasping into Wolff's neck, sucking a mark into his skin. He's never felt this good, not with any of the others. Only Wolff can do this to him, can draw this reaction out of him.

Klaber thrusts his hips upwards, grinding against the older man, and Wolff throws his head back, eyes rolling back. "H-Hahhh...! Ahhn, fuck, you feel so good, pup..." He breathes and Klaber pants against his neck, rolling his hips into him, grinding into Wolff's cunt, making him writhe.

"God, you're so tight... So good, Herr Doktor... Nnnh..." Klaber breathes against the medic's neck, nipping at his earlobe. The medic keens softly. Klaber pulls back and looks into his eyes, the blue so beautiful, so perfect and deep. He cups Wolff's jaw and kisses him, hard and fierce, the older man melting into his arms. Klaber pulls back and presses their foreheads together, his cock still grinding deep inside him, rutting against him. The blonde runs his hands along Wolff's stocking-clad legs again, loving his silky smooth they are under his fingertips. Wolff's thighs are so pale, so slender and beautiful, adorned in lacy garter belts. Klaber can feel him clenching around him, spasming around his length and he knows he's getting close.

"Gonna... H-Hahhnn... Gonna cum, Liebchen..." He whines and the younger man can't stop the sweet, tired smile that pulls at his features, the look of utter adoration in his eyes. He cups the back of Wolff's neck and kisses him, hard and deep, tongue slipping into his mouth. Wolff moans into it and Klaber sighs into the kiss, his hands wandering the older man's body.

"Nnnh... W-Wanna see you...see you cum, Herr Doktor..." Klaber sighs and Wolff shivers at the prospect. "Can you cum for me again? Please?" He asks and Wolff whines softly. The medic nods, breath coming hot and heavy, as he bucks down against him, body singing with pleasure as Klaber holds him close.

"O-Ohhhh... So good...pup..." Wolff sighs. "Such a good, good dog." He breathes and the blonde is panting, cheeks flushed red and eyes blown wide with lust, his thrusts starting to become desperate. "Good boy, Klaber, that's it... Cumming, pup... I'm...gonna..." He moans out, feeling the coil tighten deep in his gut. Klaber cries out and he spends, hard and deep inside the medic. Wolff crumples against him, his peak crashing over him and Klaber holds him close, their bodies sticky and clammy with slick and sweat and spend...

The morning after, Voller is down at breakfast early, smoking and staring into his coffee. Hauke and Cyrus aren't far behind, chatting easily between themselves as they sit at the table. Then Wolff and Klaber come down. Wolff's eyes are dark from the makeup, lips still stained pink and his hair is stuck up in all different directions. Klaber doesn't look much better, lipstick stains covering his neck and face, as they take a seat.

"Morning, princess." Cyrus says, pushing two cups of coffee across the table. Wolff and Klaber take them, taking long sips. "... So..." Cyrus drawls. "Slept well?" Klaber and Wolff flush red but they don't move away from one another.

"What happened with the dial?" Voller asks, voice flat as he levels his gaze on the two. Klaber fidgets, his leg brushing against Wolff's.

"We— Uh... We couldn't find the dial. The one they had, it was a fake." He says and Wolff nods.

"It wasn't the same. It wasn't the right texture, the engravings didn't match—"

"And you decide to tell me this the morning after instead of coming straight to me straight away?" Voller snaps back and the two flush red again.

"I'm sorry, sir..." They both murmur and Voller sighs.

"I'll be in my room then, locating the real dial. If you'd excuse me, gentlemen." He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray before taking his leave. Wolff and Klaber watch him go, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast.

"Looked real pretty last night, Stephan. You find the little treat I stashed?" Cyrus asks and Wolff glares at him. Those fucking panties. "You two were making a row last night. What was all that about?" Cyrus asks, then and Wolff tenses up. He can feel Klaber stiffen next to him, the younger man's jaw clenched tight. Wolff glances to him, his expression softening.

"Fuck off, Langstrom." Klaber spits and Cyrus grins to himself as Wolff takes a long sip of his coffee.

"Hey, Klaber, you got a little..." Cyrus starts, craning his neck and pointing to a spot on his throat where the blonde has a bright red smear of lipstick. That shuts him up and Klaber goes red, desperately rubbing at the smudge and missing the way the hitman grins.

Hauke, who's been silent since the medic and his pup sat down, leans down and whispers in Cyrus's ear. Wolff watches them over the rim of his coffee cup. The medic doesn't quite hear what Hauke says but it turns the other man bright pink.

Breakfast is always fun with Voller's boys.

#character: klaber #source: indiana jones #misc: chariot writes #type: oc #misc: boydtober 2023

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blitheringmcgonagall · 3 years ago

Note

WIP Challenge 😁❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍❤😁🤩🤩Rules: tell us the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them. Then tag five other writers.

@elanev91 you are the sweetest ever thank you so much!! I have zero time to write because work is completely bonkers so fxck knows why I apparently have 3 WIPs atm…

BLAME

This is a very angsty magical AU, but I’m sort of obsessed with the idea 😬😬:

A Marauders What If...?

What if James had been blamed for the Prank?

What if he got expelled at the end of Fifth Year?

What if there was never a Lily Evans and James Potter, Head Boy and Head Girl? If they parted enemies, if they never got together in their final year in Hogwarts? What if the marauders lost James? What then?

A Little Risk

This is the only muggle AU I’m working on and to be fair there’s quite a bit of Wolfstar here too… (drama/romance/angst/attempted wit)

England 1938. Orion Black, the Duke of Grimmauld, is found murdered days after his butler is shot in the back of the head. Remus Lupin is a detective who has just returned to work after a harrowing experience on the Greyback Case. Severus Snape is a fascist fellow detective who hates him, partly because he’s Jewish and partly because he’s jealous of Remus. Lily Evans is a brilliant Private Investigator who gets called in to help out on this high profile case. But are the duke’s eldest son (Sirius Black) and his best friend (Dr. James Potter) guilty?

(It’s a murder mystery but then Herr Riddle flies in, and it’s also time to kick some fascist/Nazi arses)

The Great Quidditch Bake Off

(Fluff and attempted comedy!)

James just wanted to raise money for a Quidditch charity, Lily wanted to promote muggle rights and muggle technology, Sirius wanted to impress Remus, Remus just wanted to win the bloody competition. But with James and Lily's massive row just before the start of the show, Gilderoy Lockhart and Dolores Umbridge revealed as the two judges, McGonagall on the war-path and the muggle crew in meltdown, our friends appear to have bitten off more than they can chew.

Who will win the Great Quidditch Bake Off?

Tagging you if you are writing these days???

And @stonecoldhedwig @tumbledfreckles @mollymarymarie @clare-with-no-i @theesteemedladydebourgh ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#tag games!#loveliest tumblr friends #wip tag #i am writing too many things

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reddeadreference · 3 years ago

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Journal - Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook

(This post is all of the journal pages and typed transcripts that were written specifically for chapter two. This post will not include stranger missions or side stuff.)

(Some entries may differ depending on certain choices/events. For instance: in Spines of America Hosea and Arthur waited until night to rob Carmody Dell, in A Quiet Time both Lenny and Arthur were arrested, & Arthur choose to help Mary in We Once Loved and True )

Finally, a thaw in this god awful weather. We got off the mountain, and rode east into some pretty enough country called The Heartlands.

Ain't been this far east in many a year. Hosea seems to know the country a little. Ain't been much of a spring. Now holed up at a place called Horseshoe Overlook, outside of some dumpy little cattle town, name of VALENTINE.

Dutch seems a little better. His eyes are sparkling once more and I can see he's thinking a little clearer.

I think we all feel a little happier, in spite of Blackwater and that whole mess.

After Polite Society, Valentine Style

Headed into Valentine with uncle and the girls. Girls went scouting out work while Uncle and I had a few drinks and he explained more of his theories on existence and bare faced lies about his past.

Things took a strange turn - some fella seemed to recognize me, or us from Blackwater.

Guess we had been holed up there too long while Hosea and I scouted the job that never was. I chased the bastard

Choice: Spare

and he nearly fell off a cliff - I spared him and he gave me an ink pen.

I hope I won’t regret my leniency, but I reckon he got the scare of his life. Jimmy Brooks was his name.

Choice: Kill

then I killed him anyway. Sometimes, there's no point taking a chance.

After Exit Pursued by a Bruised Ego

Took a day off and went off hunting with Hosea. He really seems to be getting his strength back a bunch, although he was lucky not to die as this big bear he’d been after turned on us.

I thought when we was stuck up in the mountains that the cold and the misery would kill him, and we’d bury him like we buried Jenny and Davey. But he pulled through and he’ll live a while yet.

I love Dutch like a father, but in many ways, I love Hosea even more. He’s kind and fair and like a human being. Dutch is something else.

This bear was also something else. Size of a god damn hotel, it was and mean with it.

After Paying a Social Call

Colm O'Driscoll slipped through our fingers once more and I saw my own life slip through mine. That gentle buffoon we kidnapped up in the mountains took us to a cabin. We were planning to kill Colm but he had just gone elsewhere. We shot a bunch of his boys and one was about to end my life when Kieran shot him. This FEUD, it’s bled out from Dutch and Colm’s mutual hatred into a loathing that permeates all of us and all of them.

Still, I found quite a shotgun in the cabin.

After Money Lending and Other Sins

Herr Strauss is back lending money, and I'm back collecting it.

The work mostly revolts me and shames me. Somehow, robbing people honestly with a gun and fists is less repellant than robbing them fully in accordance with the law.

It'll be the usual sort of desperados - sick farmers, pregnant maids, lovesick young men, and other dupes desperate enough and stupid enough to take Strauss' terms.

A usurer's life may be a comfortable one, but it is foul work.

After The Spines of America

Hosea and I went robbing, just like in the old days. A father and son pair of clowns at some farm house. Stole a wagon, sold it to some rat Hosea had met at some odd place called Emerald (?) Ranch. What goes on there, I cannot tell, but this little purchaser of stolen goods had us go rob his own family.

Even by my standards, that was low, but the father and son we robbed was proof that even God makes mistakes sometimes.

Choice: Day

Hosea performed brilliantly as some kind of huckster selling restorative care to crooks' backs. Whole thing was utterly ridiculous and brilliant.

Choice: Night

I snuck in at night and we robbed the loathsome bastards blind.

After We Loved Once and True

Saw Mary again. I feel like the luckiest man alive and I feel like a fool. That woman confuses me and plays me for a fiddle like no one else alive. Her little brother Jamie had joined some religious order and needed saving, or so she and the god awful DADDY seemed to have thought. I took him home, after a pathetic little squabble. Poorboy. Wonder what will become of him. Education and an unpleasant father have been a terrible curse for him, I fear.

As for Mary, I trust I will not make a god awful fool of myself once more but somehow I imagine I shall.

A <3 M

After A Quiet Time

(Note this page is for if you get arrested with Lenny, I am working on getting the alternate page.)

Went off drinking with young Lenny. Thanks to my own peculiar genius for trouble when drunk, the evening did not go quite according to plan, but somehow neither of us got killed or arrested for murder, I mean, we got arrested, of course, but not for murder, at least I don't think it was for murder because they let us out. Whole thing is a bit of a blur. Somehow, I don't imagine that the saloon owner in Valentine likes me very much after the mayhem I have caused there.

After Americans At Rest

Got into some god awful fight in the town saloon. Bill started it. He's wound so tight about something I reckon he'll start hitting himself soon enough. I was stopped from beating some big yokel to death by a local do-gooder.

I could not tell if this made me pleased or real angry. The local crowd seemed to want to see BLOOD however.

Afterwards Dutch accosted me with old Josiah Trelawny, back and quite as slippery and confusing as ever.

He'll come and go again, no doubt and leave none us any the wiser as to who or what he is.

Trelawny told us that Sean had not been killed in Blackwater, but was a prisoner there, held by scalp hunters awaiting payment. Charles Smith, Javier and I met in Blackwater and rescued that loud mouthed maniac. Before we'd even cut him free from the tree he was mouthing off at us.

Javier said Blackwater is an impossible situation and I guess I had better forget about all that money.

All them years wasted earning that stuff! Guess I'll never quite know what happened, but the upshot is, we're on the run, and known to more folks in authority than we would like.

After A Fisher of Men

Took young Jack out fishing as a favor to Abigail. Many years ago, before she fell so hard for that fool MARSTON, perhaps I should have married her. I think part of me has always thought that, yet, God damn you, Mary! Jack is a good boy. A dreamer. A boy with a momma who loves him. I wonder if he will find what we seek - peace and truth away from all this nonsense and lies. If that is what we still seek? Not that that’s a new development. Not sure I know myself anymore.

Sometimes I’m not sure Dutch does. As we fished, a couple of Pinkerton agents appeared - Milton was one of them. I forget the other fella’s name, they knew all about me. That’s a new turn of events. Apparently there’s five thousand on my head alone. After Blackwater, or maybe before, it seems we may be in real trouble. I just don’t know.

Dutch don’t seem too worried but I am beginning to have some doubts as to this wisdom in his indifference.

After Money Lending and Other Sins III

I went to call in a loan, some farmer, local do gooder. Think I'd seen him in Valentine before when I was fighting that big fella. He begged and coughed and spluttered and I beat him half to death. Such is life. Such is the world. His boy looked at me like I was the devil and perhaps for him, I was. The whole thing confused me. Maybe that's wrong. The whole thing revolted me/my part. These sad, sad, desperate bastards, their silly expectations of life and their tawdry reality. The unkindness of existence I can handle that just fine. But I do not love it, nor those who try to make things otherwise, I guess.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Arthur's Journal rdr2

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lichtecht · 10 months ago

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PART 7

of the dfk audiobook translation

@cnka

Narrator (audiobook): Bökh knocks on Martina and Jo’s door next.

Bökh, while opening the door: „Good evening-“

Narrator (audiobook): But the two seem to be sleeping already.

Bökh (whispered): „Oh. Good night!“

Narrator (audiobook): Herr Bökh leaves quietly. But our girls aren’t in the realm of dreams yet.

Martina: „Jo?“ Jo: „Mhm?“ Martina: „Bökh is fine, right?“ Jo: „…“ Jo: „Unglücklicher Spießer, if you ask me…“

Narrator (Nichtraucher): „Unglücklicher Spießer“. If there is one thing Justus Bökh didn’t want to become when he was younger, it was an unglücklicher Spießer. And on this evening he realized he had forgotten how sad and unhappy you can be when you’re young. The fight between the students of the Johann-Sigismund-Gymnasium, the beginning of which no one could remember, had to finally end.

Narrator (audiobook): Herr Bökh is sitting alone in his boarding school apartment and reminiscing about his own youth. Especially when he looks at the poster on his wall - it’s from „the Bandits“; his own two-person band he used to have back in the day. He reaches for his guitar.

Justus starts playing the guitar while he stares into the air.

Narrator (Nichtraucher): Justus Bökh forged a plan how he could bridge the gap. He had a good idea, but it resulted in everything getting worse.

Justus strums his guitar one last time and smiles.

Narrator (audiobook): The next morning, the sun shines brightly from the sky and the Internals ride their bikes down the beautiful mountain street to school into the valley.

Narrator (audiobook): Herr Bökh is already waiting at the entrance and hurries his protégés.

Bökh: „Come on, guys! Not so tired, not so shy, you have two minutes left, hopp-hopp! Who comes late is punished by life! Who said it? Hello, Cindy!“

Narrator (audiobook): The school principal Kreuzkamm and her daughter Ruda also arrive at the last minute.

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „You could have at least brushed your hair!“ Ruda: „Mama, you’re just saying that cause the greasy Bökh is standing there.“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Excuse me?! I couldn’t care less about that guy.“ Ruda: „A quote from my mother; personality is more important than obedience.“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Yes, but I'm gonna take that exemplary boarding school director to task now.“ Ruda: „Mama, we wanted to do this on our own- Mama-“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm, loudly: „Herr Bökh! This is unfortunate.“ Bökh: „Good Morning, Miss Principal! Hi, Ruda.“

[Note: text isn’t in the movie obviously. This picture was the best quality.]

Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „You always pay so much value to rules, discipline and punctuality. You probably can’t imagine that your inmates-“ Bökh: „Inmates?“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Yes. Your students. Vandalized the brand new roller board rink yesterday.“ Ruda: „She means the graffiti at the skate park.“

Bökh: „Uh-huh. But why do you think I can’t imagine that?“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Yeah, I can imagine that you wouldn’t believe me, but everything has been smeared on. As you know, I’m not a fan of your old-fashioned boarding school… I mean, a friend.“

[note: originally, she says „friend“ in the generic masculine at first, but then corrects herself to the female form.]

Bökh: „So, you are a friend?“ Direktorin Kreuzkamm: „Yes. No! You know exactly what I mean, Herr Bökh.“ Ruda: „Wow, you really dissed him, Mama.“ (snorts)

School bell rings.

Bökh: „Oh. My lesson starts in one minute, Frau Kreuzkamm, could we walk a bit?“

Narrator (audiobook): Ruda goes to her classroom, while the school principal and the head of the boarding school climb the steps to the upper floors together.

#das fliegende klassenzimmer #dfk 2023 audiobook translation #dfk #das fliegende klassenzimmer 2023 #mine

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selsprompts · 4 years ago

Text

Was it worth it, Steve?

Insight; This is just a Drabble to be honest. I saw an edit of this scene and it gave me an idea, a very sad idea.

Warnings?: angst, (possible) cursing, mentions of infertility & death. (Also me using google translate because I don’t know German #pain)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson.

This is about Steve going back in time for Peggy, I do not agree with his decision. Does this mean that Steve doesn’t deserve happiness? No, of course he does. But, his ending was just so bad IMO.

It’s my opinion so don’t tear me down, Steve went back in time and he shouldn’t have. Sorry not sorry.

+ because of a recent reply I have to say that I will also be blocking people who send harmful messages/replies. It’s okay to say you disagree with me, I respect that, but please don’t tell me to “die” or insult me, it reflects on your character. Have a good day.

He danced.

He danced with the woman he loved.

That was good, right? Having happiness and being in a good place, that was good, right?

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova”

I stepped out of the line of girls and I knew what was happening, what was going to happen.

“Yes, madam” I held my head high trying to ignore the thoughts of how my future would never be fully happy.

“It’s time, let’s go” she grabbed my arm and led me out of the room, to the lab of course.

The graduation ceremony.

I was terrified. I could never have a family now, who would want me? Who wants a woman that can’t conceive?

We walked through the doors and madam left me alone while she spoke to the doctor.

I tried to fail my training, I didn’t want this, but I don’t have a choice anymore.

I remember shooting that man with a bag over his head, I hesitated but did it anyways. I have so much blood on my hands already and I'm so young.

I’ve been forced to spar with people I claimed as family to death in order to please my masters. The ones I claimed as sisters, their blood is on my hands.

“Come now, change and lay on the table” she handed me something to change into and I went behind the curtain.

I changed painfully slowly to try and drag the process, I was scared.

After this was over I’d have to go to ballet practice and act like nothing happened, like my life didn’t change for the rest of my life

“Natalia!” Madam called my name and I hurried quickly fearing the consequences.

I walked out and laid on the table, it was cold and hard, I wasn’t ready for this, who could be?

“What if I fail?” I said adjusting my position looking around the room.

“You never fail, you will earn your place in this world” Madam said before walking off.

I saw the doctor grabbing supplies and syringes. I muttered something under my breathe before it began.

“I have no place in the world” I tear slipped down my cheek as I shut my eyes.

He bought a house, he married her, they have kids.

The perfect white picket fence like Tony told him about.

This is what he wanted after all that war and those battles, he finally got what he wanted, right?

I don’t remember anything anymore. Every time I feel like I’ve figured out what’s happened to me it comes back to a blur.

“Wintersoldat” I turned my body looking at my master, I nodded.

“Töte ihn” he said throwing the man on the floor at my feet.

Kill him he said, this is what I do, this is my mission.

I did it. Shot him 3 times. I felt no remorse, it was strange.

I often contemplate my own thoughts, only when they don’t take me to the lab. After a period of time my mind wonders, faint memories come in.

I’ve become better at hiding it, but not perfect.

They know, they know everything .

We walked out of the room and left the countless bodies I murdered on the floor, like it wasn’t a crime.

He grabbed my arm stopping me in my tracks.

“Zurück zum Basis-Wintersoldaten”

We have to go back to the base. He knows.

He knows my memories are coming back, it’s going to happen again. My mind will be gone again.

“Ja, mein Herr” I complied and followed him.

I felt hopeless, I was so close to finding out what my purpose was. Not anymore.

I sat in the chair knowing what was going to happen, my chest heaving.

They put my mouth guard in. I thought about what I was before this. If I had any family, friends.

Friend. That sounded familiar. Steve.

My friend Steve, I remember Steve.

They pushed me back into the chair strapping my arms in.

“Steve used to put news papers in his shoes”

I mumbled out loud, they watched me confused.

“Los, wische sein Gedächtnis ab, worauf wartest du?”

The doctor was demanded to wipe my memory at once, again.

I heard the machine come down.

This is my life now, I hope one day to change.

I hope to find peace and happiness. I hope I’m excused for doing wrong I don’t have control over.

I hope I’m loved and alive. I hope I’m okay.

I thought one last thing before I felt my brain ache like before.

Will I ever truly be okay?

He replayed the record, he always does.

He walked back over to his wife, Peggy.

He ignores his thoughts about what he’s letting happen, what’s going to happen.

I deserve this he thought. Peggy, my kids, my life. This is what I deserve, right?

I watched him die. In front of my eyes.

“RILEY” I screamed through my comms.

I’m so stupid, how could I let this happen? Why wasn’t it me, it should’ve been me.

Testing out the Falcon for the first time shouldn’t have gone this way, never.

“EXO-7 Falcon. Beautiful ain’t she?”

I traced my fingers along the wings.

“Absolutely”

“You and Riley will be testing it out for the first time during the mission”

I was excited, who wouldn’t be? It’s crazy.

Our para-rescue unit was given the job of apprehending Khalid Khandil.

I felt like time froze

“no- Riley, no, no, no”

My wing-man. Gone.

This was a standard PJ rescue op. Nothing we hadn't done a thousand times before.

Until an RPG knocked Riley's dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It's like I was up there just to watch.

I remember that day, everyday. It never leaves my mind. I let him down.

I watched them lower the casket into the ground feeling my body tense up.

“It’s not your fault, Wilson” another person on our team put their hand on my shoulder before patting my back and leaving.

But it was. Maybe if I said don’t go there, follow me, my lead, it would’ve been okay.

I don’t trust myself much anymore, I’m scared.

But I have to move on and do better, be a better man than before.

I’ll do it for Riley, for him.

I was the last person left at the cemetery. I could hear his family crying while walking away. I couldn’t face them, not a chance.

“I’ll see you around buddy” I said walking off with my hands in my pockets.

I’ll save as many people as I can, it’s my duty.

They danced until she mentioned dinner. He let her go but still the record played.

It’s Been A Long Long Time by Kitty Kallen, his favourite song.

He walked outside to his porch looking at the sky, it was nice. Enjoying the peace and quiet while his best friends were doing the complete opposite.

While the world turned upside down he turned his back for a woman he left and said goodbye to a long time ago, even carried her casket.

He realized she was married to another man, had kids. She had a different life.

But what does that matter, right?

They both moved on but that wasn’t enough.

This begs the question, was it worth it, Steve?

Welp. Here it is.

This was hard to right if I’m being honest.

I love Steve a lot, he’s one of if not my favourite character(s). But this is my honest take on the ending, needed to be said!

I hope no one else has done this idea. Let me know what you think! xx - Selena

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camthesolemnone · 3 years ago

Note

Hi, I have like, 4 more ideas that came to me while I was at work, so #1: horror movie. Medic and Heacy are in their cottage, and have just watched a horror movie of some kind before they go to bed, right? Yeah. BUT! As they get ready, something odd happens that sets them both on edge (turns out it's just one of the birds or something) but they end up scarred and not wanting to go to sleep

I changed this one a bit but the main idea remains in-tact. I’m sorry that this took so long to get out and that the ending is kinda shitty. I’m working on the other prompts you sent me alongside this one! Also, I don’t know if you saw the pinned message or not but requests are now closed, so please hold off on sending any more.

"Is leetle Scout asleep as well?" Heavy asked, sitting comfortably on the rec room couch.

Medic nodded and reached for the VHS tape sitting on the glass table in the middle of the room. A tiny smile graced the Russian's features.

"Is good, we have television all to our selves!"

"Ja, and don't expect to sleep tonight, Mikhail! Herr Engineer told me that this is one of the scariest movies he’s ever seen," Ludwig replied, holding up the tape for his partner to see.

Written across the label in black sharpie was the simple word, 'Halloween.' The label should have been difficult to read in the dark, but the Russian noticed how it almost seemed to radiate a burgundy light...must have been some crazy glow-in-the-dark marker Engineer had invented, he concluded. Heavy crossed his arms triumphantly and laughed.

"Do not count on it, Doktor! Heavy is not phased by baby horror films!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!”

A moment of time was spent struggling to find out which remote went to which device, but eventually, the pair got the movie inside the VHS player and smiled excitedly as color flooded the screen. Ludwig left the room briefly to make popcorn and plopped down on the couch next to his lover to click “Play” on the title screen upon his return.

“If Doktor gets scared, you can hold onto me~” Mikhail teased, and Ludwig shoved his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re 45 years old, liebe? Because right now, you sound like a lovestruck teenager!” The doctor shot, handing him the popcorn bowl.

“Well...” Heavy began, settling a massive arm around Medic’s shoulders, “One part of that statement is correct.”

Unsurprisingly, Heavy was correct about being immune to the movie’s horrors. Then again, Medic was also not affected by the film, so they took more pleasure in the plot and the acting then the actual scary moments.

Of course, Ludwig grew giddy when gore was involved.

“Hohoho! Look at all of that blood! If I was the killer in this scenario, I would collect it for future use,” he commented.

Heavy raised a questioning eyebrow and attempted to distract himself with the popcorn, but he soon came to the realization that there was nothing left but kernels. His German companion took to removing the bucket from his grasp and standing up.

“I need to use the bathroom, so I’ll take this back on the way,” the doctor stated, and the heavy weapons specialist nodded in response.

Mikhail was left all alone with the intensifying film in the dimly lit room. He would never admit it, but now that Ludwig was gone, he felt smaller. It wasn’t a feeling of fear but of slight unease; things would likely be alright for Heavy, but there was always a shred of uncertainty.

As time passed and the movie reached its climax, Heavy became more and more enthralled with the action, to the point where he forgot about Medic’s absence. His eyes were fixated on the glowing screen, his hands gripped tightly at the wool blanket surrounding him. Mikhail fell deep into the world of gruesome fantasy, and as a consequence, he nearly shot out of his seat at the sound of rapid footsteps and whisper-shouting coming from down the hall.

“Heavy! Oi, big guy!” Demoman said, urgency in his tone.

The Russian let his blanket drop to the floor and stared at the demolitions expert with confusion and anxiousness. The Scot all but captured his arm with both of his own and began dragging him down the hall as best as he could.

“Slow down, Tavish. What is this about?” Mikhail asked.

Demo turned his gaze back to his teammate.

“The Doc ‘s dead in the cludgie!”

Heavy’s eyes widened with shock, emotional pain, and fury towards whoever had committed such an act. Sure, Medic would respawn, but whoever had laid a finger on his beloved doctor was in for a beatdown. Unless it was an accident, in which case Mikhail would scold the German about being reckless.

The pair burst through the door to the community showers and the Russian nearly gasped at the sight. Ludwig laid unmoving in the center of the room with blood staining the front of his lab coat and the ground surrounding him. There was no weapon to be found, but in the corner of the room, with his back towards the door, sat a curled up, trembling, mumbling Scout.

Mikhail’s first thought was that Jeremy had committed this grisly murder, but Tavish put a hand out in front of his chest before he could progress. The Russian opted for whispering Medic’s name as a substitute.

“Scout! What the hell happened here!” Demo cried.

The young runner didn’t reply. He continued to rock back and forth, murmuring and wrapping his arms around himself. The Scot approached him cautiously, taking a calm, more concerned approach. Heavy followed.

“Aye, are you alright, mate?”

Demo reached out to put a hand on Scout’s shoulder, and a series of rapid events unfolded.

Scout’s entire body whipped around and stood up, and the Bostonian let out a high pitched, almost demonic screech. In his left hand was a knife stained in blood, Medic’s blood, and Heavy and Demo exhibited two very different reactions.

Demoman yelped and jumped back, going into flight mode. The massive Russian on the other hand, fearful for the lives of himself and his friend, took a strong step forward and lashed out at Jeremy’s face. One square punch to the jaw was enough to send the man flying across the communal bathroom and into the wall. He slumped over after the hit, out cold.

“What in the-! It was almost like that boy was possessed!” Demo shouted.

When Mikhail and Tavish’s hurried breathing finally began to slow, a new sound rang throughout the room: laughter.

Medic was rolling on the floor alive and well, laughing his ass off and further soiling his labcoat. Heavy gasped out a “Doktor!” at the man’s sudden revival while Demoman stood frozen.

“Hahaha! I can’t believe it! I just thought I’d have a bit of fun scaring you, liebe, but watching you knock out Scout was far more amusing!” The doctor exclaimed, rolling on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows like a teenage girl lying on her bed while talking to a friend over the phone.

Demoman was the first to flare up.

“What?! So you’re saying this was all a prank?! You’re sick in the head, Medic!”

The Scot was tempted to slap him silly, but with Heavy in the room, that clearly wasn’t an option. With another frustrated grunt, he stomped off and back to bed.

Now it was Heavy’s turn.

“That was not funny, Ludwig! Heavy thought you were dead!” He scowled.

The doctor hauled himself off the ground and stood up straight, wiping some of the fake(?) blood on his hands off onto his lab coat.

“What’s there to worry about? Even if I had been stabbed, I would have just respawned, Mikhail.”

“I know, but...”

Medic’s expression dropped. His love had one massive paw gripping his opposite forearm and his face was distraught. He looked smaller, scared almost, and a tiny crack situated itself in the German’s heart. If he had known such an act would hurt Heavy so deeply, he wouldn’t have even thought about going through with it. There was also the issue of Scout. Ludwig relished the sight of the cocky, annoying Boston boy being beat up, but for once, he regretted roping him into his plans. The runner had been all too willing to help him with the scare, and Medic repaid him with his bear’s violence.

He sighed and shook his head at himself internally. Yes, his prank hadn’t been very rational, he concluded.

With slow, apologetic steps, Medic approached his partner and wrapped his arms around him gently, rubbing his broad back with one hand.

“Es tut mir leid, Heavy. This was all very foolish of me,” he admitted.

Heavy returned the embrace and buried his nose into his doctor’s hair, which smelled of blood and autumn leaves.

“You know it is because I do not like seeing you hurt, moya lyubov. Every time evil Spy kills you on battlefield, my blood boils. Would sacrifice myself a million times to keep you safe,” he murmured, and Ludwig’s heart cracked a little more.

His arms tightened around the giant with increased guilt. It pained him profoundly to see Mikhail die too.

“I love you, Heavy. From the bottom of my soul, I am truly sorry.”

The Russian moved one hand from the smaller man’s waist to cup his cheek protectively.

“I love you too, Doktor, but please, do not play with death. Someday, we will not get another life.”

The credits of the movie had long concluded by the time the two of them returned to the rec room. Medic was rather disappointed that he had missed the latter half of the film, but what made up for it was a soft kiss to his forehead and a set of teasing words given to him by his lover before being sent off to sleep.

“Next time, we watch psychological thriller, da? Less gore will give you less dangerous ideas,” Mikhail suggested, patting a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder.

The doctor laughed and gave him a sly smile that warded off his fears, allowed him to breathe normally again. He was still alive.

“I like the sound of that, but you’re making the popcorn!”

#tf2 #heavymedic #horror films #fanfiction

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