#doktor speaks

[compassionatereminders]

You are not superior to the person who is nonverbal. You are not superior to the person who needs a carer. You are not superior to the person who wears diapers. You are not superior to the person who can't manage a job or an education. You are not superior to the person who is intellectually and/or cognitively disabled. You are not superior to the people in psych wards and group homes. You are not superior to the person in the wheelchair. You are not superior to the person on disability benefits. You are not inherently superior to any of these people just by virtue of being more capable in comparison. Leave your ableism at the door or don't enter

[kingofkingsschizo]

You see sweets I never meant to kill a bird when I was young. I shot and killed a bird when I was real young. This is why I feel I am cursed for life. Everything I love lets me down or hates me . No one knows the life we lead in our minds being schizophrenic. Each schizophrenic has there own symptoms to contend with. We are each different. I can’t see you for what you are and you can’t see me. Only god knows are pain. I’m sorry sweets all I wanna do is be your friend again. I’m sorry sweets for ruining our friendship. I love you. I love your whole being. I’m not some one who stalks you. I’m someone who believes in you and I know your worth to the world. I need you sweets, there are many forms of love. I don’t think you understand mine for you.I don’t know how you think of people who send you ask and thank you for helping them. Maybe you heard it to much to have an effect on you. I’m one of those 60, 000 followers of yours who feel the same. Thanks for the past 5 years, I appreciate you. I don’t know if this post will make it your way but I’m tagging you. Let me back in your life sweets.

[kingofkingsschizo]

What do you do when they have been undiagnosed and they have lived homeless suffering in the the elements , surviving on what they can. Because the are like low functioning schizos like me. I have this concern on me because I’m trying to watch a brother on the street. He drinks but he needs long term care. Do I make this decision knowing what will meet his needs. He suffers all through the season for many moons. I don’t know. For sure I’m not not getting law enforcement involved because they are fuck ups and they don’t understand mental illness. I’m going to do it on my own , I’ll try to work out the best solution for Mr.Blackwood. I like him to be housed and fed with productive activities, where he can choose to recover from his mental illness. That’s all.

diagnoses aren't Tumblr tags, they aren't social spaces, they aren't validation.

they are a kind of agreement among doctors, hospitals, insurers, government services, etc over who has the power and the responsibility to do what to whom

e.g. what diagnoses require that someone be given access to pain medication? what diagnoses allow someone to be held in a psychiatric hospital, nursing home, or long term care facility against their will?

[cipher00]

Herr Doctor/You/Major Montana Max Smut

Explicit smut under the cut! If you're a minor, get out of here please.

Word count: 639

Gender neutral reader

The Major is getting cucked but he likes it lol

The lean man above you held your wrists firmly beside your head as he thrusted into you, filling you with long, full strokes that rubbed all the right spots inside. One of your legs had been hiked up, thrown over his shoulder to allow him even better access, letting him hit even deeper into your sex. He bit and nibbled from your neck to your earlobe, where he began whispering into your ear with. His voice was husky and thick with lust as he did - "Is zis vhat gets you off? Being fucked like a little toy in front of your Major by his subordinate while he vatches?" Your walls tighten around him at his words, confirming them. "Such a filthy. Little. Thing." He emphasizes each word with a particularly hard thrust, causing gasps and whines to be ripped from your throat.

Your hazy eyes dart over to the Major, sitting nearby looking relaxed, and even amused as he watches the scene unfold. The predatory, hungry way he looks at you ilicits a whimper from your lips, the situation making you even hotter. He tuts at you, his ever present smile growing a bit wider. "Eyes on ze man who's fucking you, fraulein. He's taken ze liberty of making you feel so good, after all." He purrs, his tone containing a false sense of sweetness, but brooking no argument.

You turn your eyes back to the Doktor, taking in the sight of him as he manipulated and worked your body, causing you to make sounds you didn't even know you were capable of. He did know his anatomy, after all. And he knew exactly the places to turn attention to that had you crying out and arching into his touch. The Major was enjoying the show too, watching you fall completely apart under the ministrations of his comrade. But though you were feeling good, he knew he was the only person who could really satisfy you. So he watched you gasp and keen, knowing that after the Doc had his fun, he'd be there to make you scream even louder. To scream for him.

The Doc can feel you getting close, so he slows down significantly, earning a whine from you. "Do you think zhey deserve to finish, Major?" He keeps you on the edge, not letting you go over. Sweet, torturous bliss.

You didn't notice the Major get up, but he's at your side, gripping your chin firmly in his fingers as he makes you look at him this time. "Oh, I'm not so sure zhey deserve to." He speaks directly to you - "After all, you have borderline neglected Herr Doktor here by focusing on me. And after he so kindly made you feel so good."

"Please let me come, fuck, I'm sorry, just- Nnh, please-!" You whine, positively trembling in need as the Dok built you up again, just to deny you, letting you slowly come back down.

The smile the Major gave you was absolutely wolfish as he stroked your cheek with his thumb in mock sincerity. "You beg so beautifully, darling." He glances back to the Dok, "Make zhem come. Now."

He started up on you again with unrelenting fervor, and it wasn't long before you came, clenching hard around the Doktor as your whole body was set alight with the blinding euphoria that came with. Your eyes met the Major's once again as you climaxed, and you didn't miss the way he swallowed hard. The aftershocks made you shake, and you lay there panting hard, holding the Major's stare with that fucked out expression.

...

He wanted to see that again. But this time he wanted you to come for him.

And he was going to make you come until you couldn't stand it anymore; until he'd had his fill of sweet, delicious little you.

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

Medic jumpscared me more than Chica here smh

[self-ships-ahoy]

✨Medic Gush Post Hours✨

I may be distancing myself from canon, but my love for my dear Ludwig is as strong as ever, rekindled after every hardship we face. And I guess if you're new to following me, you haven't seen me talk about how cool and amazing he is, so buckle up for a ride.

Well, since he's in 'medic matchups', I must first mention that the loss of a medical license does not take away your doctorate, so Medic is still a doctor! A doctor who absolutely will use that medical knowledge to take care of his wife (me) every time I need it. Is there a better use of a medical degree than that? I don't think so. Self shipping aside, you can bet he'd still do that with whomever he decides to be with.

He can be very friendly and sweet if you don't annoy him at work, too. If you can handle his workplace anecdotes, he can be a great conversationalist, too. And when he's happy or in a good mood, there's a small chuckle every now and then which is just so endearing. 🥺 He's not always yelling or really energetic either, if you're worried about being overwhelmed - his softer tones are very warm and even lulling. Listening to his softer voice once calmed me down from an anxiety attack, true story. And the way he accent sounds on every word is too adorable, I just never want him to stop talking!

Ludwig isn't exactly known for being a 'by the book' doctor, but don't let that distract you from all the amazing feats of science he's accomplished! A vapor/fluid that can instantly heal any recently-acquired injury? A heart device that makes you bullet proof?? GENIUS! He's a genius!! A real mad scientist in the best way, he should have won the best mad scientist award imho. And best doctor. But if he wins this one I'll be so happy because I just want to give him the world! I want his genius recognized and his loveliness recognized!

He's a good doctor and a good bird dad and the best husband ever (in self ship land lol)! Please vote for my liebling, I'd love nothing more than for him to get this win. Also cuz none of my blorbos that I was rooting for have won their contests yet and I'd really like a win. <;_<

[linzzey]

some cod nsfw asmrs I found in soundgasm, enjoy !! :3

I will be updating this post when I find some new stuff =p

also, if the link doesn’t work, you should open the link and remove ‘https://href.li/?’ and it should work

all of these are m4f’s !!

getting trapped in a cave with könig :3 (luv this asmr bc the asmr artist speaks german)

taking care of könig :3

taking care of könig (different audio :3)

könig - doktor’s orders :3

phone sex with könig ;3

könig - warm sentiments :p (THIS MADE ME OVULATE)

—

ghost stories - testing the perimeter ;3

ghost stories - only a specialist's touch :3

ghost stories - training a military brat :p

ghost stories - riling up riley :3

ghost stories - 'clouded conscience' :^ 

—

late hours with soap :p

—

threesum with ghost and könig >_<

that is all I found, if there’s mistakes I did pls comment! If there’s any more cod audios, pls link them so I can put them here, thank you !! anyways, I just keep thinking about könig and simon literally filling my ass and my womb up bc like I’m such a big slut for them and omg I literally want an orgy with 141 so badly :((

[another-delta-lover]

YAP [RANT] TO ME ABT HEAVY!!!!!

HE'S SO FUCKING PERFECT.

I get MAD when people simp for medic bc, I understand, tumblr insane sexy man blabla yadda yadda IDGAF

You all CAN'T SEE HOW MUCH OF A PERFECT PERSON HE IS. He's such a good person, he's such a good son and older brother, doin the dishes for his mama, caring about the absolute safety of his sisters, LITERALLY SAVING EM FROM A THING I FORGOT IT'S NAME WHEN HE WAS LIKE, IDK FUCKIN <20< ??? HE'S SUCH A GOOD FAMILY MEMBER. HE WOULD PROTECT U SO WELL AND ALWAYS CARE ABOUT UR SAFETY. AUGH ES UN HOMBRE Q RESUELVE LO JURO. HE ALSO RISKS HIS LIFE TO HAVE MONEY FOR THEM??? AAAAAAAAAAA. He does enjoy his job a lot (WHICH I LOVE IN SOMEONE. HELL YEAH ENJOY UR JOB AND GET WELL PAID), But the main reason of him working is just for his family and the money to help them. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?????

Also HE'S SUCH A GOOD TEAMMATE???? HE WILL PROTECT ALL OF HIS TEAM WITHOUT FEAR AND WIN??? AND ALL HE NEEDS IS SOME CUNTY GAY ASS GERMAN DUDE BEHIND HIM??. He could be such a good grandpa/father figure or even just a really good n close friend to all the mercs, but even so, he acts so cold so quiet and mysterious around em🤭

AND ALSO!!! His masculinity ain't broken by showing love to his teammates??? He can hug em and literally yell to them "I LOVE YOU" from across the map??? Sayin "I LOVE YOU DOKTOR!!" Isn't common between men, even less in that time. If he IS gay, good for him! If he isn't, I'm glad he can express how much he loves someone without the fear of lookin weak is something I admire soso muchhh.

He has a minigun the SIZE OF MY FUCKIN BODY THAT HE CAN CARRY RUNNING WITHOUT ANY KIND OF PROBLEM??? HE COULD CARRY ME AROUND LIKE A STICK AND WOULDN'T EVEN AAHAGAJSHDHAGSH DO YOU REALIZE HE TAKES CARE OF THAT GUN LIKE SHE WAS HIS CHILD??? HE'S A GOOD FUCKING PARENT TOO?? AAAHHHH IM NORMAL

He's a good cook, he cooks really nice meals and doesn't mind to share u some, which I wouldn't do bc I don't share my food. HESO NICE AUGHH. I LOVE IT WHEN MA BOI COOKS😭😭😭 IDK WHY THAT MAKES PEOPLE MORE ATTRACTIVE FOR ME.

Also, HE'S SO FUCKING PRETTY???????? IDGAF HE'S BALD, THAT'S THE BEST PARTY. HIS BLUE EYES ARE SO PRETTY N HIS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS ARE SO SILLYY

LOOK AT HIM!!!! AUGHHH

Also his body is so JAHSLAHDJQHDJALSH he so big so perfect😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 His arms are the size of my whole body. AND HIS HANDS AAAAAAAAAA. He so FAT I LOVE HIM. I need him to crush me un a hug so badly. U all don't understand how much of a good body that could be in a relationship. U cold? U hug him problems gone. U wanna be cozy at night but the pillow is too small? He's the biggest pillow and he can hug u back that's soNSHSJAVDJSHD. He can carry u in his arms when u tired, u can lay on his chest and everything.... sighhh.... AND ALSO HE CAN FIGHT A BEAR WITH HIS BARE FISTS AND WIN, THEN EAT IT???? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THAT IS????? LIKE HOLY FUCK THAT'S LIKE THE PEAK OF MANLINESS FOR ME. The question "would u rather be in a forest with a man or with a bear" I'M CHOOSING THIS BEAR HOLY FUCK HE WOULD PROTECT ME FROM THE BEARS.

ALSO HIS VOICE OH GOD HIS VOICE. It's such a loud and strong voice in English 🤭 even tho he isn't the best at it (me neither), HE SPEAKS IN SUCH A WAY IT MAKES ME KICK MY FEET GIGGLE AND CRY. I need him to say nice stuff to me with his cool asf voice. And when IT'S IN RUSSIAN AHHH😩~ I SWEAR He's such an elegant and polite man😭😭😭 he sounds so professional and ajsvqkebalhdmaoevs And IDC what u all say to me, he could sing so perfectly<3 for me his dialogs of him singing are well sung/GEN. I just imagine him singing:

To me.... Ik the song is kinda sad and not very romantic but IDC HE WOULD SOUND SO PERFECTLY.

HE HAS A PHD IN RUSSIAN LITERATURE LIKE....... HE'S SO FUCKING SMART. HE'S ALSO PRETTY FUCKIN RICH??? IT COST 400,000 DOLLARS TO FIRE HIS WEAPON FOR 12 SECONDS???? AND I'M PRETTY SURE THAT IF HE KNOWS THAT HE'S 1. really fucking smart 2. THE ONE WHO PAYS??? Even if he wasn't rich I still love him a lot but I'm poor so that would make it slightly better. AND ALLTHE MONEY TO HIS FAMILY MOSTLY AUGHHH ALSHAKSHAKDHA

Also his COSMETICS. HIS FUCKING COSMETICS ARE SO HOT AAAAAAA. Most of em are normal silly hats but WHEN THEY AREN'T. OHMY GOD THOSE DARK GLOVES GOT MY LEGS SHAKIN. AND HAVE YOU SEEN HIM IN SUITS??? OH GOD AUGHHH. Not into mafia people n stuff BUT.... FOR HIM I MAKE A BIG AHH EXCEPTION. And also, i want to point out the fact that HE WEARS DRESSES. I shouldn't make it a big dear but DO YOU UNDERSTAND IT'S THE 60's-70's???? AND HE'S A BIG RUSSIAN MAN???? He broke the gender dressing codes of the time not only bc he's a man wearing dresses, but a BIG MAN WEARING THEM??? AND A RUSSIAN MAN??? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THAT MEANS TO ME????💔💔💔💔 Also his hats are cute I like them.

Just to summary:

Medic < HEAVY!!!

Good person I general, son, older brother, teammate, friend, father and possible partner, risking his life for his family.

He doesn't think lovin teammates is weird or GAY. Unless he is, but honestly good for him

STRONG AS HELL. AJGAJAHDJA

GOOD COOK!!!!

PRETTY!!!!!PRETTY REALLY PRETTY!!! HANDSOME

GORGEOUS FREAKING BODY.

FOUGHT WITH A BEAR AND WON

VOICE OF AN ANGEL!!!!

SMART AND RICH??? AND HE DESERVES TO BE RICH.

AMAZING STYLE.

DOESN'T CARE ABOUT GENDER NORMS.

YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND ME. AAAGHHHHH ILOVEHIM YOU ALL CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU ALL CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU DON'T YOU CAN'T YOU YOU ALL CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND.

[sleepy-fiction]

Filthy, Dirty, Doktor.

-johan liebert x fem!reader

content warning⚠️ nsfw, smut, masturbation + dual masturbation, cream pie, p in v, uncomfortable power dynamics, sadism, manipulation, porn with plot, happy endings hurray

synopsis‼️johan liebert has been missing for three years since his escape. One day, after a blizzard, you come home from your tireless job as a surgeon to find him frozen half to death after crawling into your home through your window. As the months progress with Johan, he enjoys a new cozy life as a wife-like housemate, supporting your career. The issue arrives when you can't stop masturbating to the idea of Johan, and he can't stop himself from listening.

an: this fic came to me in a dream (lie), and it's entirely self-serving. I biased Johan's character off the little rumor that Johan becomes a fisherman in the countryside after his escape and lives peacefully. If you don't like that, then the fic is not for you.

wordcount: 6.3k

You had been living with Johan for quite some time. You remembered that bitter wintery night when a destructive blizzard had struck Düsseldorf. The blizzard was harsh and violent, predicting to reign over country throughout the week. You had just painted your room hours before you learned of it and childishly you left for work as a surgeon, leaving your window open.

When you came home, you were surprised to find a half-frozen, homeless, scruffy man unconscious on your bed. He ws barely breathing when you found him, with icy skin that pierced you for every touch. You jumped into action to help and ended up nursing the entire week. You learned a lot about the stranger and how his beautiful eyes seemed to twinkle in the moonlight. How, despite his predicament, he still was well, manner, and polite. He told you he was an orphan who was unable to cope after he left the foster system. How he was never able to recover and spent much of his adult life homeless. How he was robbed off everything, how he ran into a bad crowd. You were the same age, but your lives were so different.

You couldn't bring yourself to throw him out. Maybe it was because you saved his life. Without him, he truly would've died.

You were gullible the way you invited him to sleep on your couch for the time being. You had just moved to Germany from the United States, and because of this, most of your home was littered with mess and boxes. It wasn't much of a home for him yet, but it was the least you could do.

Over the months, he began to trust you. You helped him gain his strength and fully recover. You were there when he finally shaved his battered face.

He was an angel before, with his proper way of speaking and his gentle tone. But by God. Once that scruff came off his face, your world had changed. He was incredibly beautiful, with sweet blue eyes and pearlescent whispy lashes. His hair was cut and neat, with a perfect nose with pink lips. Your heart practically stopped in your chest that morning he walked in for breakfast.

That became the issue.

No longer was he the scruffy, sweet, homeless man you were sheltering out of the kindness of your heart. He was handsome and alluring. With a face like that, you couldn't help but shut your thighs together and breathe swallowed breaths.

It wasn't like you didn't see him naked before. You were nursing him, and he was too weak to walk on his own when he first got here. You bathed him, you clothed him, you washed his hair day in and day out. You brushed his teeth, you bonded over childhood pains and cried on his shoulder. You spent nights sleeping next to him-- things you could easily do because you weren't attracted to him.

Yes, sure, even before the change, you agreed he had an attractive personality. But could you blame yourself for not liking the giant blonde beard and the long shaggy hair that touched his shoulders?

But now he was all cleaned up, with hair that caressed his ears, splitting down the middle in a breathy swoop.

Every morning before you went to work, Johan would prepare you a nice hearty breakfast. No matter how many times you told him you didn't want him to worry about you, he always said it was the least he could do. And you couldn't really argue with that, you loved the breakfast and you loved his company.

He started unpacking your home, too, while you were working. He understood that you'd be too busy to take care of the house as an on-call surgeon. You remember the day you started seeing clothes and furniture slowly being rearranged. Johan was perfect. Too perfect, it was frightening for you at timed.

Frightening because you started to feel something.

He was someone you didn't want to lose.

But your body craved him.

You remember that day you were in the shower, trying to stop your hands from plummeting deep within your walls, but you couldn't. The way you'd arch and moan out his name as you rocked against your fingers. The embarrassment that fled you when you orgasmed, and even more so having to face Johan at dinner, trying not to seem suspicious as he told you about his day at home.

You remember how after a year of having him, you got so out of control that you couldn't use your fingers anymore. You bought a few toys to play with, and getting them into the house was so hard too.

Knowing Johan, the sweet housemate that he was, he kept trying to put the "groceries" up for you, and you didn't have the strength to tell him the truth. You kept insisting that it was menstruation hygiene, something he didn't want to see. But he kept going on about how he didn't care about that, it's what you needed.

He was so perfect, like a sweet angel.

Luckily, you were able to hide your new purchases in a locked bin under the sink cabinet, and that night, you got to town feeding your itch.

You fantasized about him. He was a perfect housemate. Would he also be perfect and gentle with you in bed? You imagined that bare body from all those years ago shamefully as you rocked back and forth on the dildo you trapped to the side of the tub. It was incredibly uncomfortable for your legs, but you were so out of your mind that you didn't care.

You could imagine those pale hands drumming up your body to your breasts, gentle peppery kisses lining up your nipples and you'd arch even more, sopping wet down below.

You remember facing him again at dinner that night, hearing how he commented on your long-winded showers. You, being too embarrassed, simply told some fab about how it detoxed you after work, and you watched his careful, icy eyes flicker in curiosity. You gulped, and even now, you can hear the chilling words that fell from his lips, "My. Well… Keep taking those showers, doctor. I'm sure you have a lot of pent-up frustrations from work. It's good to wash it all away and… take care of yourself."

Every part of you felt conflicted about his sultry words. Your brain was convinced that somehow he knew about your daily routine, that he knew what you did in the image of him. Your heartfelt odds about the words, was he inviting you? Was he flirting? That pause he had, he bound to have-- What did he mean by that?

His gaze was narrowed down on you like you were prey. And it was in memory of those hunter eyes that you fucked yourself again at the croak of night, slapping a hand over your mouth to stay quiet. Turning the shower on now would be too suspicious, and the bathroom was right next door to his room.

You couldn't believe yourself, your lack of control. It was disgustingly shameful how your brain twisted his innocent, caring words, his innocent caring eyes to fit some sadistic fantasy you were building up of him.

The truth is, Johan, he was deadly aware of your little playtime. He first noticed it when he went to get something from his room while preparing dinner. When you first started masturbating, you were loud, and the bathroom wall was thinner than you could imagine. In his shock, he pressed his ear against the wall and heard the muffled cry of his name.

He twitched in his pants.

The monster in him was salivating. You had tamed him well. He was loyal to you, grateful to you for saving him (a lot at first, he longed to die). The monster in him respected you-- it needed you at times. You were the only thing that made him calm, and this lovely little life of being a housewife was something he couldn't imagine he'd end up loving.

Him? A runaway killer? Finding delight in wearing the aprons you bought for him and gardening your home to look better for the neighborhood. Mowing your lawn, cleaning your home, unboxing all your stuff, and doing laundry. Sweeping and cleaning became his favorite coping mechanism. It made him feel fully in control and fully zen. You'd take him fishing on the weekends, and whatever you caught together, he'd always cook something lovely and aromatic.

He found he loved orchids, especially the blue ones, and he gardened the front of the house with it. He heard from neighbors the compliments about him, how'd they call him your boyfriend or your lover. You weren't any of those things officially, but for some reason, he liked it.

It was stable.

It was serene.

He felt sort of.

Normal.

So when he found out you, his savior, was lustfully touching herself to him every single damn day, he had mixed emotions.

Fear.

That was his first. He was afraid of himself, afraid of the sudden power he was given over you now. Before, he was in your control, meekly like some little wife tending to your every need (despite your protests). He liked it, when he was powerless, the monster never complained. But now, now he's given some authority and control over you. You could do whatever he wanted all for a little sex.

He wasn't that person anymore.

He wasn't a manipulator.

So out of fear, he wouldn't dare to walk near the bathroom under any circumstances. He didn't ask about your day at first, he couldn't keep himself down enough to see you flush like that. To watch you come up with an excuse or try to forget your playing to remember something else that happened in your day. It gave him too much power, and he didn't know how to handle that burning feeling yet.

But. Your beautiful affirmations about him made him feel vulnerable again. What if he trusted that feeling? What if he explored it? What if he let it take control over him just for a second? You always told him that he could trust his body, that his body is "capable of handling every sensation" he experiences.

So maybe.

When Johan passed by your bathroom while you were at work, he couldn't help but freeze. That burning sensation was back, the monster in him clawing at him. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. And that burning continued.

He let his darkest fears hold him for a second. And Johan quickly found himself on his knees shifting through your dirty laundry, pumping his pent-up cock into his fists, moaning like an uncontrollable wild man.

It was then he discovered his second emotion about your playtime wasn't fear after all.

Lust.

Upon his discovery, he never realized how heavy his balls had gotten. He spent three years on the run before finding your home by accident, not once did he ever have the time or energy to release himself. And it was like once he opened those floodgates, he couldn't stop the desire that overtook his body. He felt like a predator, looking for any opportunity to extend himself.

Like that one time, you stumbled into his room drunk after a work outing, confessing your dirty sins to him. It was something you long forgot, and it took him all his strength to trap you in your room so you wouldn't do anything stupid.

But man did he spend that whole night playing with himself, replaying your drunken confession over and over. He was so excited to explore this with you, to hear you apologize in the morning, and for him to segway that into a discussion about sex. So he could communicate how he felt. But when the morning came, and his eagerness budded- you had completely forgotten.

Confidence was his third and final emotion.

Johan knew he was beautiful. How else did he survive all those years in hell? He swindled women, he gained the trust of men. He slaughtered.

Yet he noticed how embarrassed he had become and how skittish and secretive he was about masturbating. It was like he was a teenager all over again, pretending to cook food until you got in the shower and then running to his room to touch himself to your sweet voice. He always finished early so he could clean up and rush back to the food. Developed a system where he'd cook before you got there but didn't assemble anything and kept it all separate, which cost him many pans and extra dishes, but it kept the facade up just so he could wank off like a child.

His favorite thing was the nervous conversation you had with him after your shower, too skittish to look him deep in the eyes. That's when his confidence started pouring in. At dinner, he'd be more challenging, more teasing. He'd "accidentally" stroke his foot up your leg to hear you squirm. He'd make more eye contact than usual, watching you bounce around a bit. He'd stop you right before you'd walk into the bathroom to make small talk while your frustrated eyes struggled against his stare.

You thought you were slick, but you weren't.

And he decided he'd test the waters.

"Doctor, you always take such long showers. It's become a large part of our dinner routine." He smiled innocently and watched his prey tense up like a bunny in the stare of a hawk.

"Ah. Aah… Well, it helps me detox." You panted, keeping your eyes down on your plate.

Checkmate.

You were right where he wanted you.

"My." He made his voice low as he burrowed a stare deep into your eyes, "Well… Keep taking those showers, doctor. I'm sure you have a lot of pent-up frustrations from work. It's good to wash it all away and… take care of yourself."

And you practically fell apart for the rest of the night. He watched your shame confusion and fear plague your face while you helped him watch the dishes. And to be extra harmful, he bothered you all night with conversations and small talk, knowing the frustration and confusion that was uncomfortably building in your body. He forced you up late, chatting with a glass of wine until you had to scurry into your room to retire.

His trap was set.

And just as quickly as you disappeared into your room, he disappeared into his and awaited himself on the bed (that he pushed against that wall this morning), cock in hand. Much like how he planned, you couldn't help yourself, and he couldn't help himself either. It was thrilling, the power placed on his shoulders as he heard your moans finally unmuffled by the streaming shower. His cock was extra twitchy and sensitive that day.

It was the chase and hunt of it all that made this so rewarding.

He played cat and mouse with you all week. Always pushing you, making you feel uncontrollable and weak about your growing desire. He pretended to be sick, too weak for dinner, and paraded around the house without his shirt and in some shorts instead of his usual day wear. He made up some excuse as to why he stayed in his pajamas, it cost him too much energy and he was sweating so much. He watched the guilt that panned over your eyes for looking at him so dirty.

He begged you to watch television with him, saying how lonely he was all day just so he could scoot close to you and trap you in his body. The body that he knew you could not handle. You could cut the tension in that room that night like a knife. And after pushing you to stay up late just like before, he waited, once again, for you to play with yourself:

Johan snuck into his room and laid back on the bed, thrill striking through his body. He laid flat on top of his comforter, his pillow cupping his head forward. He had already prepared by leaving a bottle of lotion next to him. His hands pulled down his shorts, an eerie sense of satisfaction and gratification bubbling in his body. His hand scooped up his hardening member, squeezing it a few times to manage his excitement.

You would be heading to the bathroom any minute now.

His eyes widened.

He reached over and sprayed the scentless balm into his hands, working them from his fingers and to his currently dry muscles. Precum leaked from his reddened head.

He heard your door open and his mouth ran dry. "There she goes." He mutters, unable to fight the way his hands moved before his show began.

You were so easy to push. Johan couldn't stop the moan that bullied from his lips, he was too eager. He couldn't calm himself. His hand pumped himself fast, that cold, devilish glare striking his face once again. He couldn't help the self-serving grin that sliced his face open.

By now you were probably inside the bathroom, fishing for the little toys you always--

His doorknob creaked, and a striking gasp fled his lips.

"Johan I -"

You didn't go to the bathroom.

His eyes flew to you in the dark, as the lights from the hallway cast a shadow over you.

For you, you only wanted to remind him to take his medicine. It was true, you cared for his sickness but also you wanted to see him one last time. So when you creaked open his door, you never would've expected such a sight.

There was Johan, laid back comfortably on his bed, cock in hand, head shot forward, with piercing blue eyes that saw right through you. You clenched on air, frozen in shock. Silence filled the air, and after a second of it, he moaned wistfully. A sound that went straight to your ears and down to your wet pussy.

"Oh my gosh!" You half-screamed. You quickly dove behind the door, shutting yourself back in the hallway. "I'm so sorry!" You cried, hands covering your face.

"I should've knocked!" To your horror, the door opened again, and there stood Johan, his face unreadable, threatening, and bland. He stepped out into the hallway, and you looked into his eyes for reassurance, but nothing was there. Confused, cautious, and anxious, you threw yourself away, hitting the other wall. Your thighs clamped shut, and you clenched again and again on nothing.

What was he thinking? This was scary, this was scaring you.

Your hole clenched around nothing again and again and again, begging to be filled.

"Sorry?" He finally said in that cool, collect monotone. "Oh, doctor. You shouldn't be sorry."

"I caught you uh… M-" Despite being a doctor, even you couldn't say it. It was like saying it would make it all the more real.

"Masturbating? You caught me masturbating? Haha. Why, doctor, I didn't take you to be skittish. It's natural, isn't it? Masturbating? It shows that I am healthy." He said, and boy was he right.

He was just throwing that word around and around everywhere. It took everything in you not to whimper, your pussy beginning to drown in dirty slick. A vicious puddle was ruining your underwear.

"Yes but still I'm so sorry I uh…" You didn't know what to say. You were cornered.

"It was a mistake, wasn't it? You weren't trying to peek at me." He said, his head tilting like a wild hare.

You gulped as guilt bound sickeningly in your chest. You were trying to peek, not at him masturbating you didn't know! You were trying to see him before he went to bed, that's why you didn't knock- it was innocent. "I wasn't." You rushed out without thought.

Innocent?

What were you saying? You were peeking for masturbation fuel. You gulped, guilty your eyes couldn't find his.

"Johan I-"

"What brings you?" He asked so kindly, so calm. It only made you feel worse.

"I wanted to make sure you took medicine for your cold." You whispered, but the sound was too soft.

Checkmate.

You felt him step closer. "What was that?" He asked, a cunning grin slicing about his face once more.

"I said I wanted to give you medicine." You said.

"Medicine? But you don't have anything in your hand?" He said.

Your face dropped in horror, your eyes running to Johan's stare. You couldn't think of anything to say.

And that's when he finally won. His cock hardened like a rock, large and proud, and he didn't care if you saw it.

"Doctor, I think you are lying."

Your knees buckle into each other, rubbing your thighs together like a madman. You couldn't stop dripping, your panties were completely soaked by now, and it only made you feel more horrified of yourself.

"I know what you've been doing." He said, and your gasp was soul-sucking. "Every day you touch yourself to me. And then you pretend to be a normal housemate." He was sharp.

"I didn't mean to--"

"You lie to me at dinner time."

"I'm not trying to -"

"Trying to what? Take advantage of me? You know I have nowhere to go, I can't say no to you. Can't you see the power dynamic here?" His hand lay against the wall next to your head, pinning you to the wall as he leaned close to you. "I am at will to you. If I say no to your advances, I could be out of a home. You want me to stay here forever so you can get your pleasure off it, doctor."

You couldn't help the moans that bubbled out of your body, your hips that rocked uncontrollably, your clit that begged for friction, and your little hole that cried for a stretch. Humiliation bounded tears from your eyes.

He was right.

"Johan I'm so--"

"A-Ah… Haa." He moaned, and wildly your eyes found him again.

His eyes shut.

You glanced down.

He was hard.

You glanced up.

His eyes opened.

Slowly the pieces came together in your mind.

Johan could see your gears turning.

He was toying with you. He was getting off to all of the torture he put you through this past year.

You blinked once.

That asshole.

Before you knew it you crashed your lips onto his angrily, muttering out a string of curses as you wrapped your legs about his waist. "Fuck you, Johan. You're so horrible." You muttered between the kiss, unable to stop your hips that grinning against the bare skin of his waist.

He laughed but you were quick to interrupt it with your tongue. You slipped your muscle deep into the services of his mouth, sliding wild hands into his hair and pulling at it tightly. You lapped and licked at his inside, feeling your pussy burn for attention. His tongue was even quicker to steal yours as he hobbled back into his room, his hands supporting you to him. He turned about and laid you down on the bed, breaking the kiss to pant.

His room was dark, with the only air of light being the moon glow drifting from the window about you. It caught his eyes in a captivating icy loom, and your hips bucked forward in anticipation. Your mouth began to water.

You waited for this for so long. He leaned down and found your mouth again, sucking on your wet muscle, milking an aggressively dirty moan from your confused lips. His hands quickly invaded your space again, and with total carelessness for your well-being, he clawed away your pajama shirt, unbuttoning it tiresomely.

Being a well-respected surgeon you always had respect and might power in your hands. You had lives in your hands, you had to always be in control. But here with Johan, as he brutally pulled your bra up and nipped at your bottom lips, he didn't give you a second to think- no he stole your power right from under your nose. His bullying bites dipped into your neck, licking and slurping at your throat like some sort of wild beast.

His canines dragged harshly against the cost of your throat, his body etching around your life- the life he had planned to take years ago. His penis twitched hard in his pants, feeling his balls get heavier by the second.

He's never had sex like this. Before it was all perfect, he'd pleasure his partner, they'd give him what he wanted. Whether it was money, information, silence, or just to seem normal, it all was painfully forced. Here, he could fully intact his deepest desires to hurt you. For total domination over you but in a safe way.

The paradox of wanting to hurt you but wanting to be safe about it reigned ruler in his mind and coated his brief with serious precum. Look at you, you tamed his monster.

He dipped his tongue from the cup of your collarbone in a lengthy stripe to your chin, feeling his eyes lid as he succumbed to your intoxicatingly confused moans. His mouth parted and sucked on the base of your neck, careless with how his teeth rubbed against your skin. Your mind had shut off, the thoughts of stress that typically plagued your everyday growing deathly quiet. Every part of you agreed that right now you needed his cock so deep inside of you.

You needed him to pleasure himself on you like you were some sort of toy. You arched forward when he finally parted from his barrage of sucking and biting. He leaned up and stared down at you with hunting eyes, his hands reaching and pulling and twisting your poor nipples in his hands.

"Ah! Oohh." You cried in shock, his winding of you was direct and sharp, sending vicious sensations to your drenched hole. His face grew in satisfaction at your frantic sounds, a sadistic giggle trailing from his lips.

"Of course you'd like that. You dirty doctor." He snickered as your eyes looked deep into his belittling glare. You moaned hoarsely at his words, feeling your thighs grind against each other. One of his hands flees from your hand and dives into his shorts again. As you watch breathlessly, he pulls himself out. His cock springs out of its confinement, his penis pulsing with furious veins, his cock head a pungent red as his slick made his member a wet mess.

You moaned egregiously at the sight, your arching back hardening into a locked state. He did all this teasing and he was just as wet as he was. He was just as uncontrollable as you felt. "Johaan." You whined reaching up to touch it.

He swatted your hand away, and punishingly so his other hand pulled your nipple. "I didn't say you could touch. You dont deserve to touch." He hissed as you whimpered out. "You've lost all sorts of manners, haven't you? So wild from all those toys you put up inside you. Does it make you feel better about yourself?" He says in his painful, precise rasp.

You gasp and grunt at his words, feeling your clit pulse and cry out. Your mind was becoming a jumbled mess, your crying sex overtaking your every move. You couldn't take it anymore, and you slipped your hand down your pajama shorts, diving past your underwear to bully your hole. The restricting pressure of your underwear snapping back against your knuckles limited your movement, but your mind was savage.

You plugged your little hole with two fingers, rocking and plunging them hideously.

"A-Aah… Doctor..." You heard Johan suddenly cry. Your eyes flickered up to his and his face was incredibly red. His jaw was slack and his eyes bulged out in surprise. "You're so-ugh wh--" Was all he could say before he leaned his head back, his hand jerking himself furiously. Your orgasm was building harshly at the pretty sight.

"Mngh… Ah!" You cried. There was Johan on top of you, with each leg of his straddled against your side. He stood up above you on his knees. Careless with how he fucked his fists inches away from your face, his body hovering over your stomach. The view from below was ridiculing, and his furious pumps splattered precum all over your face and neck.

"Scheiße!" He cursed, his fapping growing wild, dysregulated, and brisk. He did this as if you were truly nothing to him, like a pornographic magazine that he couldn't get enough up. That he pent himself off so he could cum on the pages. It made you hornier than ever.

Your hole clenched hard around your fingers, your breath stammering si hard your brain had to convince your pussy's vice grip to loosen so you could pummel yourself. "Te-- augh! Tell me ah… Tell me I'm a whore uh-ah-again Johan." You whined, unaware of how saliva drooped pit of the corners of your mouth.

"You're so filthy, d-dirty, doctor. Whore." He gulped, watching his head lean back farther, revealing the peak of his neck and chin. Your orgasm was becoming familiar to you as you arched your hips high forward, plunging your hands faster and faster, matching Johan's rapid pumps.

"J-Johan… Johan!" His name became the only word you knew.

Your voices became a choir of delighted song, the sounds loud and free, and your eyes were privy to soak up all of his beautiful cries. His voice grew raspy and higher for each pump, his orgasm trailing near to yours. You dropped your mouth open wild, your tongue barreling out to catch the wayward fluids flying towards you.

"Ich k-komme, aah Doktor. Komme." He growled out. Your orgasm burst deep onto your fingers at the word, your eyes fleeing back up to the crevices of your head. Your hole wrapping deadly tight against your fleeting fingers.

With a few high sounds from Johan, you blinked out of your high, forcing your eyes open to watch. His head leaned back down to you, his teeth bared and clenched tensely, while his eyebrows folded upwards angelically. His blue eyes peeked out from his daze and found you, tongue out and ready for his disposal. With one final cry, the sight sent him over the edge.

White, hot ropes shot out from him and onto your nose, his hand quickly redirecting his aim to splatter onto your tongue and teeth. He shot heavy, long-winded loads with hard pants, his hands shaking trying to contain his excited high.

With heavy pants, his cock sent its final queue of hot cum and softened slightly. The room was filled with you and Johan's doggish pants, trying to catch our breaths from your ecstasy.

"Johan." You mewled pulling your hand out of yourself. You reached up for him and he buried himself into your arms, digging a whorish needy tongue into your mouth. His body hovered over yours, with his chest slumped against you. You whined into the sloppy kiss, but it didn't last as his wet mouth brushed you on his way down. His forehead leaned into the bed next to you, his bottom flying into the air weakly.

"Scheiße." He mumbled again but it was quieter this time.

Now that the high was running to a close. Humiliation and embarrassment were piercing his pale blue eyes. Instead of cuming deep inside the doctor, the object of his fantasies for months, he got too excited and came all over her. She didn't even get to touch him once. How pitiful had he become since becoming her housewife?

"Johan that was amazing." He heard her sweet voice say. The shame was building as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. Her hands slid up his back to chase him, her dirty slicked-up finger intertwining worriedly into his hair. "Johan? What's wrong sweetheart." You whispered comfortingly, and his heart whined at the sound.

He was becoming too soft, too attached.

He couldn't fight his words.

"I came on you. Not in you." It was humiliating. He was reduced this low. By this woman?

Your eyebrows quirked up with a hearty laugh. "Then cum in me, crybaby."

He blinked.

Crybaby?

Johan slid out of your neck with unreadable eyes and stern brows. You blinked at his stare, one you were quick to identify as his surprise.

Suddenly his face melted into a loving smile, his eyes brewing with butterscotch affection. A cooing laugh fell out of him. Under the twinkling moonlight, he truly did look like an angel. Your breath caught in your lungs. His lips leaned down and kissed you politely, a dance of short bubbly friction. "Alright, my dear. Let me take care of you." He said as his hands nicely gripped your hips, helping you to turn onto your stomach.

What?

What was that? He was a totally different person? An angelic sweetheart, just like the man who cooked every meal for her. The man who unpacked her home and did her laundry so innocently.

You couldn't help but moan in confused eagerness. He lifted your hips to place a pillow under you, propping you up so that you didn't have to arch for him. You gulped and mewled again in confusion, feeling as he guided the rest of your unbuttoned shirt off you.

"Johan," you whined childishly, "I can't take this." You felt your hole clench again on nothing. His behavior was so overwhelming, your pussy began to scream needly.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now." He said, and his tongue innocently and neatly swiped the nape of your neck. He kissed the middle of your bare back gently in reassurance before his gentle fingers slid off your panties and shirts in one long swoop. The air nipped at your exposed sloppy sex, the sight of it making him groan. He grabbed the softness of your ass, giving it a tender grope.

He leaned into your sweetness, pulling your lips apart with each of his thumbs. Peering into your hole, he could see your leaking cum and slick water out of you, dribbling down your folds and onto your messy clit. With a deep inhale he memorized your scent.

"Oh, darling." He sighed wistfully.

You melted like butter into your arms. "Fill me up, please. Sweetheart, I need it." Your voice matched his contagiously charming tone.

"Yes, dear. I will." He let go and you whined at it. You peered back at him while he shuffled out of his shorts, his exposed body being revealed to you once again. He caught you looking as he leaned back dear to you, kissing your lips before lining up his cock to your sweet hole.

"Going in now, alright my dear?" He whispered. His tip kissed you civilly, and the sensation took everything in you not to clench down. Soon the innocent kiss dipped deeper, as a quarter of his length plunged into your cum lubed body. "Aa-ah." He groaned delightfully, choking out the sound as his breath grew heavy. Your eyes rolled back, your jaw falling slack.

"Here's the rest." He hummed as he pressed himself fully inside you, the stretch bonding through your body. He wasn't the girthiest, but his length was piercing. You could feel him snuggly bump your service as you mewled out in sync with him.

"Oh god, Johan." You clenched around his pretty cock, earning a delectable moan from him.

"Darling…" He chuckled, leaning in to pepper your shoulder. Before you could beg for friction, Johan began to move slow tantalizing strokes. The kind you were privy to distract yourself with after a long day. You cried out at the feeling, more heat rising to your flushed face. "I memorized this rhythm to all your moans." You shivered at his hushed words in your ear.

"You're so cr-creepy…" You moaned.

"You like that, don't you? Doctor." He groaned, loosing himself in the pumps. You couldn't say anything against him either. "On good days," His thrusts turned erratic, "You fucked yourself like this- ugh. I always guessed… Mmh. It was cause you were rushing to… See me." He was right. You gasped and cried out.

"Too fast, Johan!" You cried, your gummy walls struggling to adjust to his sudden speed.

"This way is too sloppy." He muttered. Painfully he janked himself out again, causing your body to sputter and arch harshly. "You need something like this." Johan slipped back in again, his cockhead ramming straight into your bladder. You jerked forward with a start, crying out loudly.

His hand laid against the back of your perked head, guiding your face back down into the bed. "Relax, Doktor." He laughed airy. He thrust strongly into you, never failing to hit your sweet spot. His thrusts were tender and precise, each slap of your ass against his hips made him grumble out a groan.

"Johan! Ooh! F-fuuck." You groaned. His cock pumped into your walls, each hit making you leak out sloppily. Your wetness squleched and squleched deep into the night air, the smell of your needy sexes filling the closed room.

The tantalizing strokes numbed your mind, your breath heaving, your saliva building on your parched tongue. You arched your head down deep into the sheets, overstimulating and tickling your pussy wickedly. Your cries were loud, rough, and painfully uneven as the pleasure choked up air in your throat.

Johan's bitter cock twitched and seized under your tight, suffocating walls. Sweat beaded onto his forehead as his body begged for another release. His senses dulled, the sound of your sweet noises and the taste of your lovely pussy around his dick was sinfully extraordinary. His forehead leaned against the fruit of your shoulder, perching himself into the moment as his thrusts grew rapid. He mewled out, bullying nails digging into your hips as he slammed you.

His sounds were lewder than you could ever imagine, his loud moans impregnating your sorry ears. His sounds were growing higher and rasper just like before, and you clenched around him in anticipation.

"Cum inside!" You managed out from between his defilement of you.

He groaned wild and long, shutting his eyes tight. His balls heaved, his teeth clenching shut.

Your pussy sucked and pulled at his sweet cock, delicious wetness scorching his senses with mind fucking pleasure. His thrusts grew sloppy and erratic, his moans weighted. "Komme!" He cried as leaned his head upwards, bucking his hips and delivering his load deep into the breath of your cervix.

His hot cum shot deep inside you, as you mewled out and came all over his angelic cock. Johan panted weakly, slapping his hands down on either side of your head, arching his hips deep down. His shoulders dropped in satisfaction, jaw slacked with a shiver trailing down his body.

Meekly, he slid out of you, his cock whining for the hotness of your insides once more. The mess that spilled out of you was disgusting, as barrels of mixed white cum and slick drooped out of your whorish hole and waterfalls down your folds.

You moaned with a stammer, gripping chunks of the bedsheets.

"Flithy, dirty, doktor." He sighed in content.

And every part of you was satisfied too.

[fruit-teeth]

Little Sister

“I am not stupid,” Zhanna muttered, staring bitterly down at the floor. 

Heavy pinched the bridge of his nose, his heart aching. “Sister…please…” 

“We never said you were,” Medic tried to reassure her, keeping his voice even. “All I said was —!”

Zhanna rose up from her seat. “You think I am too stupid for a baby!” She snapped, voice rising. “You think Jane is too stupid! We are not stupid, you are a stupid!” 

“Sister, please!” Heavy pleaded, putting his hand on her arm. Zhanna shook it off of her with a grunt. 

“Nobody called you stupid!” Medic was clearly trying to be reasonable, but his annoyance was obvious. “Don't you understand that all we were asking was that you postpone having children with Jane until the two of you work things out?” 

Zhanna crossed her arms, glaring down at the floor again. “Do not tell me what to do.” 

“Zhanna,” Heavy stood up, placing his hand on Zhanna’s back. “This is because I care for you. I want happiness for you, I want health for you.”

“But…” tears filled Zhanna’s eyes, though she blinked them back. “Jane make me happy. Having children with him would make me happy. You do not like this! Why? Why?” 

Heavy started to speak, but stopped himself. He put his face in his hands, heaving a long sigh. 

“Why?!” Zhanna asked again, voice a little louder than before. 

Heavy finally lifted his head to look at her. “I want the best for you, and he cannot give you the best!” 

“The man practically runs a raccoon farm, Zhanna,” Medic sighed. “You are an adult and we cannot stop you, but…we just want you to reconsider. That’s all.” 

“Reconsider…” Zhanna muttered, tears falling from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, before looking at the door. “I am leaving.” 

Heavy tried to stop her. “Zhanna…please listen,” but she was already gone. As the door slammed, all he could do was stare at the door for a long moment. 

“That didn’t go…terribly,” Medic managed to say, trying to reassure Heavy. 

Heavy turned to look at him. “Did I do right thing? She is upset…” 

“She’ll be all right,” Medic leaned against Heavy’s shoulder, kissing his cheek. “She’s just acting a bit immature, she’ll be over it.” 

Heavy rubbed his eyes, though he leaned into Medic’s touch. “I hope you are right…I care about her so much. I cannot imagine her as a parent with Soldier, it is so much for me,” 

“I understand,” Medic nodded. “But she’s grown, you cannot stop her from making choices anymore. She’s not a child, Misha. You'll always be her big brother, I know, but you have to let her choose her own path and just be there to support her when she does. Do you understand?” 

“I understand,” Heavy pursed his lips together in thought. “I just…I am worried for her. I want to protect her all the time.” 

Medic nodded, placing his hand on Heavy’s back. “You’ve always protected her, and you’ve done a wonderful job.” 

Heavy smiled a little at that, and he put his arm around Medic. “Thank you, Doktor…I hope I have.” 

[heavyweponguy]

Heavy. Libeling. May I speak vizh you?

(@healthcareguytf2 forgot to do this earlier oops)

Hm? Oh, what is it doktor?

[compassionatereminders]

Love how ADHD, autism and schizophrenia objectively have the same amount of traits and experiences in common, but schizophrenics aren't welcome in the metaphorical club house because they're bad for the image the neurodivergency movement is currently trying to capitalize on and with "love" I mean fuck y'all

[kingofkingsschizo]

You don’t, you really don’t have to worry about a thing. Do you. You know your capabilities. Don’t let neurotypicals make you think your as fortunate as them. You are not lazy. You March to a different beat of a drum. If you have a mental illness except your limitations and know your strengths and build on them. I wasn’t designed for this 9 to 5 world and I don’t give a fuck what others may expect of me. I’m my own black horse and I run free. I run free from the stigma placed on me.

[please-let-this-work-oh-my-god]

Hey... remember that post I made about Kakania's siezen in chapter 6? As I rewatched and transcribed Kakania's speech in 6-24, I noticed that Kakania had switched to using du midway through her monologue and that's just... such a neat detail to me.

Kakania was no longer speaking under any guise or formality or professionalism, she's speaking to Isolde as the friend she thought they always were, as her true self, just as Isolde had been doing with her so long before this. But now that du no longer carries that same tone of comfort and safety, it carries weight, anger, and the despair of a person who has seemingly lost a friend that they have cared for for so long, someone they thought they had known but has now been estranged before their very eyes.

Also, for anyone who needs it, the full speech scene in German is below the cut

Isolde: Du hast alles gut gepackt (?).

Kakania: Ja. Der Spiegel macht mir Angst, nachdem was passiert ist. Er spiegelt wahrheitsgetrau mein hässliches Gesicht wider, meine abstoßende Seele.

Isolde: Doktor, du bist nicht abstoßend. Wie kann jemand, der abstoßend ist, so edle und hohe Ideale haben wie du?

Kakania: Hmph, vielleicht… vielleicht haben Sie recht. Es ist Zeit, das Tuch zu lüften.

Isolde: Das Licht tut weh, hast du die Vorhänge geöffnet? Doktor, ich kann nicht sehen.

Kakania: Schauen Sie sich dieses Gemälde an, Isolde. Erinnert es Sie etwas?

Isolde: Ich kann es nicht deutlich sehen, Doktor. Es ist zu hell hier. Könntest du die Vorhänge zuziehen?

Kakania: Das ist das Gemälde Ihres verstorbenen Bruders, Die Rettung. Wir haben eine einfache Tatsache übersehen, Isolde, bis Heinrichs letzte Wörter uns alle daran erinnern. Theophil schrie seine Notizen in Verzweiflung, nannte aber sein letztes Gemälde "Die Rettung".

Isolde: Doktor, es ist zu hell hier. Können wir woanders reden?

Kakania: Wie konnte ich das übersehen, Isolde? Eine noble Damen wie Sie kann nicht nur singen und tanzen, sondern auch zeichnen. Theophil war ein feiner Herr, aber nur fein. Er war talentiert, aber nicht begabt. Die Frauen der Dittarsdorfs waren schon immer bessere Medien als ihre Männer. Sie sind viel begabter als Ihr Bruder. Sollen wir euch dankbar sein? Du und dein Bruder, ein Paar Messiasse dieser Ära. Eine von euch schrie die Wahrheit in einem bemitleidenswerten Gedicht heraus und hielt seine Verzweiflung in Kunst fest und die andere…

Isolde: Doktor…

Kakania: Und die andere wollte "die Farben von oben abkratzen, ihre wahren Farben enthüllen und sie neu formen". Das bist du, Isolde. Du hast versucht, die Verzweiflung abzukratzen und die Welt mit deinen mitfühlenden, mitleidigen Händen neu zu formen. Er schuf die Kunst, und du hast sie vervollständigt. Du und dein Bruder sind die Mitgestalter dieses Gemäldes aus Mitleid für diese Welt. Und deshalb war es das einzige Werk, das den Brand überstanden hat. Hab' ich Recht, Isolde?! Sag es mir!

Mit Heinrichs Hilfe habt ihr beiden den Anführer von Manus Vindictae getroffen, ihr habt das Wunder gesehen, euch wurde der Weg zur Rettung gezeigt. Aber der arme Theophil konnte nicht akzeptieren, was ihm gesagt wurde. Wie du, wurde er von seinem noblen, edlen Blut verflucht. Er hatte Mitleid für die Welt, hielt er aber noch an den Privilegien des Adels fest (?). Er wollte nicht mit dem Manus Vindictae arbeiten, aber er wollte auch keinen Krieg. Er hatte seine inneren Kämpfe. Als Begünstigter der Rettung war die Schreiben von Verzweiflung sein einziger Ausweg. Er musste sein Leben nehmen, um den Schmerz zu beenden. Und er wollte, dass du dich ihm anschließt, damit ihr beide gemeinsam von der Qual befreit werdet. Aber er übersah die Tatsache, dass du, im Gegensatz zu ihm, bereits in Verzweiflung lebtest. Alles, was ihm wichtig war, hatte dir nie gehört. Die Zerstörung dieser Welt bedeutete dir nichts.

Isolde: Mein Kopf tut wirklich weh.

Kakania: Also du hast ihm aus Mitleid den Abzug gedrückt.

Isolde: Ich kann nichts sehen. Könntest du bitte das Licht im Raum dimmen?

Kakania: Betrachte dieses Gemälde! Schau dir diese Spiegel an, Isolde! Was hat ihr der Anführer von Manus Vindictae gezeigt? Was ist "der Weg zur Rettung"? Ist er ein Zauber, ein Ritual?! Du bist die einzige, die es weißt!

[number-one-fan-of-heavy]

We should learn how to speak like New Yorkers, Misha.

@number-one-fan-of-doktor

[rosainta]

Team Fortress 2: 12 Flash Fiction Excerpts

('ms pauling' by makani on DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/makani/art/ms-pauling-208768568)

(Author's Notes (A/N) at the end. For now, enjoy these slices of TF2 writing cake, baked with the batter of my mind!) * * *

1 "The Runner's a Fool."

[Written 10-3-2024]

Scout’s heart was bursting as he ran through the underbrush.

He didn’t look back; he couldn’t. Not after what he saw. If he had known sooner, he might not have spent so much energy trying to woo her...

Maybe he wouldn’t have made such a fool of himself.

2 "Player of The Heart."

[Written 10-3-2024]

“Fine, one more time”, he grumbled.

Pauling gleamed as she turned to the tape player. Changing the song to something more romantic, she hummed along and placed herself into his arms. They began to sway with the music.

Sniper felt his heart racing, but his thoughts raced quicker.

He wondered: would the one he really loved be into this too?

3 "Long Overdue."

[Written 10-3-2024]

Spy knew what he had to do.

He sat down next to the crying boy, gently putting a hand on his back. “Screw off!” the younger yelled, pushing him away.

Seeing him like this broke him; it did every time. But he took a deep breath and said what he should have all those years ago:

“I am sorry, Scout.”

4 "What Happens if You Feed the Machine? (Or In This Case, Water It?)"

[Written 10-3-2024]

“Yer no fun, lad!”

“Come on now, you know how I’ve been goin’ dry...”

“What’s one bottle a’ scrumpy goin’ to do to you?”

“Well, let’s see here. How many eyeballs o’ yours do my teleporters teleport per use?”

“Er, one.”

“Well, expect that to be one less the next time ‘round, pardner.”

He chuckled, and in an instant, he gulped it all down.

5 "Soldier's Solace."

[Written 11-3-2024]

Soldier stared at the grand moon from the roof of the base.

After the day’s fighting and bread teleporting, the other mercenaries were off to bed. But Soldier remained, smiling contentedly from under his helmet without another care in the world.

Somehow, he knew that right then and for as long as he dreamed, everything would be alright.

6 "Буквы говорят о любви."

[Written 12-3-2024]

If Heavy learned one thing in all his years of studying Russian literature, it was that writing wasn’t something you did; it was something you became.

So, picking up the ink pen, he let his hand go and embodied with all he had what meant most to him.

“It is time I tell you, Doktor.”

7 "Like The Warmth of a Fireplace."

[Written 13-3-2024]

Pyro looked at Engineer as a child does a Mall Santa, clapping. “Huddah, huddah!”

“Okay, one more, just for you.”

The technician took a deep breath and began to strum on the old guitar, his low voice singing a song of pink skies. Pyro swayed to the beat in bliss.

And, with every hum, the two grew closer.

8 "A Smile Means A Million Words, That Is Until You Speak."

[Written 14-3-2024]

Scout liked sketching.

While words weren’t his forte, art allowed him to express what he felt but could never say. He licked his lips, furrowed his eyebrows, and furiously scratched at the page with a pencil. Every detail, every form-- they had to be perfect.

When he was done, he proudly smiled at his creation.

And it smiled back.

BONUS!

As he admired his creation, he didn’t notice Sniper approaching him.

“And just what are you scribblin' off today, mate?”

Scout snapped around, flustered. He wasn't expecting company, and especially not from him.

“A-ah, hey, Snipes!", he blurted out. "It's nothing, really. Just another drawing of Spy screwin’ those... stupid French bread swords, whatever ya' call 'em.”

As he stammered an excuse, his face slowly turning red, he didn’t realize that his creation's rough, sketched face-- a picture of the marksman himself!-- was peaking through the corner of the sketchbook in the crook of his arm. Sniper paused for a moment as he stared at the work in awe, its own happily gazing back at him. Then, snapping out of his trance, he wordlessly turned back to smile at the younger man.

“You’ve got some talent, kid," he said, softly. "Please, don’t waste it.”

Then, quick as he came, he ambled away.

Scout was left standing, bewildered, and admittedly a bit confused, and he slowly turned back to look back at his drawing.

He traced the rough face of the man, looking wistfully with a tinge of giddiness in his eyes.

“If only you knew...", he whispered to himself without thinking. "Maybe then I could draw you like one of my French girls.”

Then, upon realizing the stupidity of his own remark (and of its disgusting, Spy-related... Frenchness), he immediately gagged.

“Ew, crap, no!”

Somewhere in the distance, Spy instinctively rolled his eyes.

9 "I Feel Olive!"

[Written 15-3-2024]

Medic pinched his nose, a low groan rumbling from him.

"What is wrong, Doktor? You seem stressed", Heavy asked, concernedly lifting his nose from his book.

Medic turned to him, tired eyes smiling weakly. "Ah, it iz nothing. Just... ze dull, useless legal documents. You know, as per usual."

"Well, if it makes Medic feel any better, Heavy ran out of olive for sandvich, so eating it was practically useless! I could not even digest it without big frown", he said, frowning in turn.

He grumbled, continuing, "What Heavy means to say is... you are not alone in your troubles."

Medic paused for a bit, before laughing and grinning back at the giant. He was grateful for this goofy big old man.

"Oh, you alvays know what to say, Heavy. Come on, let us escape this prison of an office and find you that olive. I am getting quite hungry and ze papers can wait, after all!"

10 "Off-Target."

[Written 29-3-2024]

Scout's mind just. couldn't. think.

His head was jumbled, a puzzle with the pieces too lost in the messy maze of his brain ever to solve. He wished he could crack open his skull like he did the BLUs on the field; maybe that would knock some sense into him.

He really needed to focus. Sniper always did.

So, why couldn't he?

11 "Our Paths Shall Cross Again."

[Written 4-4-2024]

It pained him to see her like this.

So, for the first time in his life, he put his pride aside and took one last glance at the sleeping lady before leaving the room.

Scout wished he could stay all night and marvel at her familiar, sheer beauty, even as she slept so frail. But he knew what she needed most was not him, but help.

Who knew what she went through those 2 years?

He resigned himself to the couch, closing his eyes. His affections for Miss Pauling would have to wait, as they always did, but he was fine with that.

She was safe, and that’s what mattered most to him.

12 "Guess Who's Up For Surgery?"

[Written 6-4-2024]

Medic was practically laughing with joy! Or, in his peculiar case, cackling maniacally.

Ah, it was of no matter— the doctor was filled to the brim with inspiration! So many projects to start and bodies to stitch; oh, what a wonderful feeling!

Heavy smiled as he watched the doctor go about his merry way.

Sure, when he was in this mood, that likely meant imminent danger for all those around him (they’d be his newest experiment, no doubt), but seeing him happy always made Heavy’s heart feel a little lighter.

So, as the doctor bounced up to him with his newest rambling, he didn’t protest!

* * *

Author's Notes: Over the past weeks, I've been working on being more spontaneous in my writing—no planning, just writing with the flow! And what better way to do that than to write flash fiction about my favourite fandom? (Plus, I have been practically absent here (post-wise) for, what, months? So why not use this as an excuse to share them with you? Ehehe... Okay, let's forget I said anything; moving on!) Flash fiction, with its creative liberties and curt nature, is an excellent medium (not forgetting to mention the fact it's a disgracefully UNDERRATED form of media!) that inspires me to write because it sort of... brutally invalidates any excuse of author's block I have... since it is literally spilling the words from your conscience into text WITHOUT the worry of length (ah! My greatest enemies...). Plus, it is... sort of, maybe, kinda addicting because it's just so freakishly simple, and the more you do it, the more productive you'll be and feel! Isn't that wonderful? (It could even be a drug! Er, well, a good one... wait, is there even a thing as a good drug? Ah- nevermind.) Anyway, if you're struggling with author's block, I'd heavily recommend trying it. Of course, it may not work for everyone (and I am not here to legally endorse this like a paid sponsor!) but it's still worth a shot if you haven't yet already. And hey, if it doesn't, you can feel free to blame me for the waste of time! Don't worry, I won't mind. Before we go on, I have to take this moment now to thank the one sweet old woman (whom I've unfortunately forgotten the name of) who first taught me about it a few years back during a summer writing course. She taught me much about what I know and love today, so I owe this and much of my writing happiness and technique to her! Thank you, lady. May you continue to write on!! Anyhow, to give you more context, these are all excerpts taken from a private account (but not a secret one! It's out there... somewhere...) of mine, edited for quality purposes and also because a few of the original excerpts bugged me due to their... well, innate cringiness. Hopefully, there's less of it now, but I wouldn't count on my eradicating it as it seems that cringe is just a part of my habitual writing style (I am sorry to disappoint, unnamed woman from the course... I have failed you). I hope that at least is is bearable enough for you to read. However, if not, I offer you my greatest condolences. If you'd like some bleach for your eyes, I have that too. You can also tell by the number of Speeding Bullet and Red Oktoberfest excerpts that I was... in quite the shipping mood for some of them. So, if that doesn't bug you, feel free to indulge yourselves in these characters as I obsessively have over the course of writing these!! It would be my pleasure to offer that liberty to you (and perhaps, shamelessly to myself as well, ahaha..), so please, go ahead. Anyway, that's all of the random blurbs I have to ramble on about today. Thank you for reading- or skimming, at the very least- and please have a marvellous day, pally~!

~ Rosain Quivan