#herr flick

[brezelzeit]

I’m currently working on and off on a series of Allo Allo characters as animals. So far I have Lieutenant Gruber the sea otter, Herr Flick the fox, and Helga the tabby cat!

Animals are chosen based on personality or a physical resemblance of the human character to that animal or both.

[teratomat]

Herr Flick. Oh, it is terrible to find you in such an unusual position.

[little-candy-store-of-horrors]

"Did you enjoy the Hitler Youth?"

"Not very much. I was a mummy's boy. I used to cry a lot."

"Did they bully you?"

"Constantly. It was because I wore glasses. They used to call me 'Four-Eyes'." (x)

[brezelzeit]

I haven’t seen these pics before hell they’re SOOOOO CUTE together???

[bellcza]

when the flick offside trap

[donfermin]

Funny how the man who is ending this generational Bayern trauma is the same one who inflicted it in the first place 🥲

[tigerfush]

Episode 1 shadow and bone a bit boring.. but only the first episode. Kaz reminds me a bit of Herr Otto Flick from ‘Allo ‘Allo (old british TV show). He’s one of my favourites though..

[mourning-again-in-america]

the brethren is addictingly good. it's like succession where i hate almost everyone involved but want to know how this trainwreck progresses

[drowninginblox]

Low Battery

Pt: 1, 2, 3, 4

"This needs to be perfect," Kurt mutters under his breath. He's been pacing for hours. "Uh-huh..." the one person he knew would help him is not all enthused. "Something they'd never expect!" Kurt declares in a hushed tone. "Yeah..."

It is 3am, and Scott is not happy.

He was woken up by Kurt holding his nose. The worst way to wake up. Thank god Kurt had the foresight to slap his glasses on. But before Scott could yell at him, Kurt already teleported himself and Scott to Kurt's room. Where a chalkboard was filled with various ideas and notes scattered across the floor. Scott didn't know what was happening, but he'd never seen Kurt like this.

"Kurt, what even is this?" he grumbles after waiting ten minutes for a proper explanation. Kurt looks at him and sees Scott holding the bridge of his nose. "Oh, right." Kurt teleports to the chalkboard and spins it round to show 'Ways to confess without fucking it up; by Kurt' Scott stares at the board before dropping his head and sighing. "Kurt we have work in the morning..."

"Coming from the guy that was making noises I never even imagined. You kept me up last night, this is payback." Kurt teleports over to Scott. "And don't worry, we're not alone." He points to the bed at a still-asleep Gambit. Scott holds his face in his hands "Kurt it is 3am-" Scott tries while Kurt slaps Remi awake with his tail. "The fuck-!" Remi yells before looking around, realizing where he is. "Oh god... mon ami...." The cajin groaned. "Really?"

Kurt looks between them "Look- I wouldn't have done this if I didn't think it was important. And I know it's early- but this has been keeping me awake. I need help with this, I can't..." He sighs. "Herr, vergib mir, but I can't fuck it up!" Scott raises a brow and glances at the Gambit. Although Gambit couldn't see it, he felt the shared glance. "Listen, Kurt," Scott says while standing up. "There is no right answer to this." He admits. Remi leans over, putting his elbows on his knees.

"Kurt, I had no idea what to do with Jean. I thought of every outcome, everything I could and couldn't say, every grand gesture I could think of- I could damn near fill a book!" He admits while walking towards Kurt. "But you know what I did?" Scott clasps a hand on Kurt's shoulder, making Kurt look into Scott's visor with nothing but hope.

"I didn't wake up my friends at 3am!"

Remi barked a laugh as Scott tightened his grip on Kurt's shoulder, making the German fear for his life while Scott seethed. But Scott took a deep breath and relaxed his grip with every moment of exhale. Eventually, he calms himself and evenly states the facts. "What I did Kurt, was take a leap of faith." Kurt glanced between Scott's hand and his visor. "That's all it is," Scott affirms before letting go and heading to the door. Kurt doesn't bother to go after him. This stunt was not going to be met with grace in the morning.

When the door closes, Kurt looks at Remi, who is lying on the bed and fiddling with a deck of cards. "How did you get that?" Kurt mumbles. "Pockets mon ami." Kurt glances over Remi's ensemble of boxers and a crop top. "What?" he asks, genuinely confused. Remi rolls his eyes. "Just come over here and play with Gambit." Kurt sighs "Shouldn't you leave too? I woke you up..." Remi only narrows his eyes and flicks an uncharged card- hitting Kurt square in the forehead. "I-ow!" Gambit's eyes widened a little "Damn mon ami, you should've dodged that," He tuts with a smirk. "You have it bad..." Kurt huffs "Schnauze!" Remi chuckles and waves him over, to which Kurt hesitantly obliges, sitting across from Gambit on the bed.

"Gambit got a game for you," He mumbles as he shuffles his cards "Simple one." He assures. "Go fish?" Kurt offers while he props his head with a hand. Remi stares blankly at him. Kurt only smirks back.

Remi starts dealing cards, mumbling intermittently "Go fish? The fuck are we?" Kurt only chuckles. "Well then mon ami, what are we playing?" Remi looks at him. "Because of your remark, war." Kurt perks a little with a playful smile "Really?" Gambit just nods. "Good game to play when you need to ramble." He hands Kurt half of the newly shuffled deck, to which Kurt takes. "Ya know how to play yeah?" Kurt rolls his eyes and starts setting down cards. Remi responds in kind.

They play quietly for a few moments until Kurt finally speaks up "So what did you want to talk about mein fruend?" "Be honest with me Kurt, why do you love them?" Kurts taken aback by the question but slowly answers "Well," Remi continues. "Would you feel this way if this shit didn't happen?" His eyes never leave the cards. Kurt stops "What do you-"

"What is she worth to you?" Kurt throws down his cards. "For the love of- Remi hold on! Lassen Sie mich darüber nachdenken! Es ist schwer zu beschreiben, was sie sein soll, wenn du mich ständig bedrängst! Give me a moment to answer!" Remi looks him dead in the eyes and slowly sits up. He remains quiet, inviting Kurt to speak. Kurt can only sigh. "Siehe- listen, Y/n is my best friend. I would be lost without them, truly." He looks down at his cards. Remi's stack was thicker than his now. He must not have paid attention to how shitty his luck was. "I... I rely on them."

"Reliance isn't love, mon ami." He surmises before taking four more of Kurt's cards as his seven lost to Gambit's ten. "I relied on 'few people back in the Bayu but I loved none of them 'n the way I love y'all. An all tha' nothin' compared to my Cher," He smiles fondly before returning back to Kurt. "But that' all to say, that's far different to jus relyin on someone. You know that." Gambit says with a quick tap to Kurt's shoulder. "Mon ami, I've seen you smitten. And this ain't it." Kurt sighs, putting down his small stack of cards to hold his hands together. "Tell me, ya know Gambit won't tell no one, but ya love them? Truly?"

Kurt closes his eyes and hangs his head "I... I don't know." Gambit smiles at him sadly. "You have one hell of a poker face mon ami," He says while shuffling close to Kurt. "But ya get tells. Everyone does." Kurt only sighs "Gambit, what do I do, Bruder?" Gambit claps an arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulls him into a side hug. Kurt softens a little at the much-needed contact. "Ya figure it out before ya commit." He mumbles, his voice seeping with genuineness. "And if I hurt them?" the smaller mumbles. Gambit shakes his head. "It would hurt them more if ya lied, mon ami. Trust me, I know." He says with a smirk. Kurt smiles a little at that. "Player." He mumbled. Gambit chuckled and held Kurt tighter for a moment "Gotta try ya luck." Kurt scoffs playfully.

Gambit starts collecting his cards. Kurt helps him out. It's a silent task, but when they finish they only look at each other knowingly. "Ya gotta be true to yaself, Kurt." Gambit eventually says, a deep understanding coursing through his words. "If ya don't trust yaself in that, then trust Gambit." Kurt can only look away. Gambit sighs. "Ya trust me right?" Kurt nods. "Ja... with mein life." Gambit clasps his shoulder and squeezes it lightly. "Then follow ya heart, not what they may want." Kurt takes a moment before nodding to the sentiment. Gambit smiles slightly before heading out of the room and closing the door behind him. Once he's gone, Kurt looks to the chalkboard and the scattered papers of fantasmal plans. But now he can only see them as what they are- fantasy.

That night was restless, but he tackled the following day with a spirit he didn't know he had. Scott rightfully scolded him for last night and suspended him from missions unless told otherwise; whatever that means. Meanwhile, Gambit only requested that Kurt would wait until about 6am to drag his ass into early morning ramblings, and that said practice would be mutual if continued. Kurt took both of these helpings in grace.

But after these moments, Kurt otherwise found the day unnoteworthy. In fact, he found the following days the same way until the fifth. He’s known about the constant the whole time, but considering the circumstances he didn’t want to pry immensely.

Eventually, the intrusive thought got out. "Hey, Ororo?" Kurt asked during the lunch period, "Do you know where Y/n is?" Ororo looks over to Kurt. "Their classroom. They've been rather occupied for the last few days." She notes as she closes the fridge. Kurt nods at this and heads to Y/n's classroom immediately after this confirmation.

Something in his soul tugged at his being, encouraging him to check up on them. For what reason, he didn't know. Call it intuition, call it dumb luck, but Kurt was walking to Y/n and neither of them could stop this interaction. Yet it was only when he was a little over a yard from their door did he realized he had no good reason to do so.

He stopped in his tracks, midstep away from the inevitable. A rushing thought offered an out; 'You told her you needed time...' his eyes lingered on the door before looking away. The room seemed to chill with the harsh truth of Kurt not really knowing what he was doing. 'What was this even supposed to do?' The casoums of his mind offered. 'Is this something for you or Y/n?'

The lump in his throat grew at the implications of that question. Even though his fur allowed him to be semi-resistant to the cold, he could feel goosebumps rise from his skin. His body worked on autopilot, directing him to the wall next to their door and leaning against it only to slink down to a curl of a sit. The tail he always claimed to have a mind of its own, wrapped itself around his calve. A gentle squeeze was the only consultation he deserved while he leaned his head against his knees.

A deep inhale, and a deeper exhale quelled his nerves for a few moments only to have them flood. "Mein gott..." He mumbled into his jeans. "What would Y/n do?" He couldn't help but mumble against the warring thoughts. The carnage of what ifs and absolutes desolated anything in their path while Kurt could only sit and watch as he tore himself apart. He didn't know how long he sat there, but something broke him away from the battle. "The last thing I want is you attempting to force feelings that aren't there." Y/n's voice echoed, making him perk. He closed his eyes, forcing the memory back.

They didn't realize how close they were to him. At least, he doesn't think so. Just a few inches apart, that was the only thing separating them. And yet they didn't risk it. "Kurt," They mumbled. If it wasn't for the faint candlelight, he wouldn't have seen the bright but conflicting emotions in their eyes. There was a bittersweetness in that intimacy. One that Kurt couldn't help but wonder if they understood the possibility that came with such a risk as that one.

Their hand served as the only ground at that moment. But the cool touch of your hand was giving way to the warmth of Kurt's cheeks. "You deserve only the best that the world has to offer." Their assurance was warmer than the candlelight. Its glow crowned them in a halo of surreality. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. "Do not put your happiness aside for me." And their words. The reverence was something of a prayer... devoted and kind. And yet, all the while pleading for something they could only hope for.

"Please, be happy in any way you want, just don't hurt yourself in the process." All he could do was attempt to recover from his speechlessness as the friend he'd had for years on end morphed into someone else before his very eyes. The quick-witted sarcasm and the air of confidence were gone. For once in a long time, Y/n was vulnerable in a way Kurt had only seen once, maybe even twice before.

The bell marking the end of the period broke Kurt away from his recollections. As the sounds of footsteps grew nearer and nearer, he stood and dusted himself off. He spared your door one last look before a BAMF took him back to his classroom, where he could only sigh against his desk. The stale air of his room was no Eden, but it was better than getting questioned by the students.

"Reiß dich zusammen, Wagner, wir müssen eine lösung finden..." he mumbled before combing a hand though his hair. His tail swished to and fro. The hallways filled with noise.

"Time to be normal..."

[muiitoloko]

I actually feel nauseous at the ending of the last chapter of difficult woman HE NEEDS TO BELIEVE HERRR

Title: A Cage of Emotions

Summary: Karl's strict measures to keep his wife close lead to a clash of wills and a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none.

Author's Notes: After a whole lot of effort, sweat, and probably more tears than I'd like to admit, I finally managed to write this! 😅 I’ll confess it’s not my finest work, but I’m satisfied enough to send it out into the world. Enjoy!

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and Eighth part here.

Also read on Ao3

The next morning, Karl woke up and turned to look at you, sleeping peacefully beside him with Mouse nestled near your head. The sight stirred a mix of emotions within him—sadness, anger, and a sense of betrayal. You had tried to leave him without a second thought, and the wound was still fresh.

Karl slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. He locked the door behind him as he left the room, determined to prevent any further attempts at escape. He then made his way to the guest room where he had been sleeping previously. The cool water of the shower helped to clear his head, and he took his time, letting the steady stream calm his turbulent thoughts.

After dressing in a crisp white shirt, a dark waistcoat, and trousers, Karl descended to the dining room. Elisabeth was already seated at the table, her expression one of nervous anticipation. Hans stood near the table, his posture rigid and attentive.

Karl glanced at Elisabeth briefly before addressing Hans. "Hans, bring [Your Name] her breakfast in the bedroom. From now on, all her meals will be taken there. Also, move my belongings to that room."

Hans furrowed his brow in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together. He hadn’t believed the boss was serious when he mentioned confining Madame the day before. Hans had assumed it was just something said in the heat of the moment. But now, it appeared the boss was actually serious. “Will Madame really be confined to her room, Herr Hoffmeister?” he asked hesitantly.

Karl's face hardened as he met Hans's gaze. "Yes. She has everything she needs there. There is no reason for her to leave."

Hans's expression turned incredulous. "But sir, that's cruel."

Karl's eyes flashed with anger and disbelief. "Cruel?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "She tried to leave me. She lied and deceived me. She deserves to be punished."

Before Hans could respond, Johann entered the dining room, his steps unsteady and his face pale from the effects of last night's indulgence. He groaned, rubbing his temples as he took in the tense atmosphere. "Why does everyone look so tense?" he asked, his voice rough. "What did I miss last night?"

Elisabeth's eyes flicked to Karl, a hint of satisfaction in her gaze. "There was a bit of excitement after you retired, Johann," she said, her tone carefully neutral. "But it's being handled."

Johann raised an eyebrow, looking between Karl and Hans with curiosity. "Handled? What happened?"

Karl's jaw tightened as he spoke. "My wife attempted to leave me. She will be confined to her room until further notice."

Johann's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and concern crossing his features. "She tried to leave? Why on earth would she do that?"

Karl's gaze was cold and unyielding. "Because she is unhappy, Johann. But that does not give her the right to deceive and betray me. She will stay in her room until she learns her place."

Johann opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it, closing it again. He knew better than to argue with Karl when he was in this state. Instead, he took his seat at the table, his mind racing with the implications of what he had just heard.

Elisabeth, sensing the opportunity to solidify her position, leaned forward slightly, her voice soft and sympathetic. "Karl, if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. I want to support you in any way I can."

Karl nodded, his expression softening slightly as he looked at her. "Thank you, Elisabeth. Your loyalty means a great deal to me."

Hans, still standing nearby, exchanged a worried glance with Johann. The tension in the room was palpable, and it was clear that the situation was far from resolved. The household had been plunged into a state of uncertainty, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges for everyone involved.

Meanwhile, you slowly woke up from your sleep, memories of last night coming back to you in a disorienting rush. Sitting up, you looked around the room, noticing that Karl was no longer there. Mouse, on the other hand, continued to sleep peacefully, curled up on the bed. You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and frustration as you realized Karl had likely locked the door behind him.

You got out of bed, your thoughts a whirlwind of anger and regret. You had been so close to freedom, only to have it snatched away at the last moment. The memory of Karl's grip on you, his possessive words, and his unyielding anger made your skin crawl. You couldn't shake the image of his face, twisted with a mix of rage and hurt, as he dragged you back to the estate.

As you took a shower, the hot water cascading over your body, you mentally scolded yourself. You should have ridden faster. You should have planned better. The thought of Elisabeth, her betrayal still fresh in your mind, made your blood boil. How could she accuse Liselotte so unjustly? You should never have trusted her.

Karl's blind trust in Elisabeth but not you was like a knife to the heart. A rational part of your mind argued that Karl had no reason to trust you, especially after you lied to him. But you didn't want to be rational at that moment. You were hurt, angry, and trapped in a situation that seemed increasingly hopeless.

Stepping out of the shower, you dried off and dressed in simple, comfortable clothes. You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to muster some semblance of strength. The sight of your own reflection, the dark circles under your eyes, and the determined set of your jaw, reminded you that you were not defeated. Not yet.

You heard the bedroom door opening before Anna announced her presence. "Madame, I am bringing you breakfast," she said softly, entering with a tray.

You turned from the dressing table, your eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where is Liselotte?" you asked, your voice sharp.

Anna hesitated, setting the tray down on a small table by the window. "Liselotte is fine, madame," she replied carefully. "She will now help in the kitchen and will no longer serve you directly. Herr Hoffmeister has assigned that task to me."

You frowned, confusion and irritation mixing in your expression. "Why?" you demanded. "Why has Karl made this decision?"

Anna's hesitation was palpable. She avoided your gaze as she straightened the napkin on the tray. "Herr Hoffmeister believes it is best for Liselotte to have different duties," she said finally. "He does not want her near you, fearing that you might plan another escape attempt together."

You felt a surge of anger. "It wasn't Liselotte who helped me escape," you repeated, your voice trembling with frustration. "It was Elisabeth!"

Anna nodded, her expression sympathetic but resigned. "Even if that is true, madame, the boss believes otherwise."

You clenched your fists, trying to contain your growing rage. "This is absurd," you muttered. "I will get ready and speak to Karl. He needs to hear the truth."

Anna's face grew tense, her eyes filled with concern. "Madame, you cannot leave this room," she said softly. "Herr Hoffmeister has forbidden it."

Your eyes widened in shock, the reality of your situation crashing down on you. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "He's keeping me locked in here?"

Anna nodded sadly. "Yes, madame. Herr Hoffmeister is serious about this. He has ordered that you are to remain in your room until further notice."

The words echoed in your mind, a cold chill settling in your chest. You were trapped, truly trapped, and the man who claimed to love you was the one holding the keys to your prison.

"This can't be happening," you whispered, your voice filled with disbelief and despair. "I can't stay here like this."

Anna stepped closer, her expression gentle but firm. "I'm sorry, madame. I will do my best to make you comfortable. But for now, you must abide by Herr Hoffmeister's orders."

You turned away, unable to look at Anna any longer. The weight of your confinement settled heavily on your shoulders, a mix of fear, anger, and hopelessness swirling within you. The walls of the room seemed to close in, the air thick with the suffocating reality of your captivity.

As Anna quietly left the room, you sank down onto the bed, hugging Mouse tightly. The small comfort of his presence did little to ease the storm of emotions raging within you. You were a prisoner in your own home, bound by the whims of a man who claimed to love you but whose actions spoke of possession and control.

Karl confined himself to his office after breakfast, the heavy oak door closing behind him with a resounding thud. He poured himself a generous measure of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the soft morning light that filtered through the room's tall windows. He stared into the glass, his mind replaying the events of the previous night. The hope you had given him, the tentative promise of a new beginning, only to make a fool of him by attempting to run away—it hurt him deeply. Karl didn't accept betrayal. Ever.

He took a long sip of the whiskey, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the pain and anger churning inside him. How could you have lied to him so convincingly? He had believed you, dared to hope that things might change, and now he felt like a fool.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting his thoughts. "What is it?" Karl responded harshly, his voice edged with frustration.

The door opened slowly, and Elisabeth entered, her expression tentative. Karl's gaze softened slightly at the sight of her. "What do you want, Elisabeth?" he asked, his tone less severe.

Elisabeth closed the door behind her and stepped into the room, her eyes filled with concern. "I just wanted to see how you were," she replied, her voice gentle.

Karl let out a bitter laugh, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "I'm fine," he said tersely, but his eyes betrayed the lie.

Elisabeth moved closer, her expression sympathetic. "No, you're not," she said softly. "I know you're lying, Karl. Last night was hard on you. I can see it in your eyes."

Karl's grip on the glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. "What do you want me to say, Elisabeth?" he snapped. "That I'm hurt? That I'm angry? That the woman I thought I could finally reach out to tried to leave me in the dead of night?"

Elisabeth's eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and determination. "Maybe it's time to consider letting her go, Karl," she said carefully. "She's not good for you. She's making you miserable. You deserve someone who truly cares for you."

Karl's anger flared at her words, and he slammed the glass down hard on the table, the sound echoing through the room. "Enough!" he barked, his voice a dangerous growl. "I will not hear this from you. I don't need your advice on what to do with my wife."

Elisabeth flinched, but she held her ground. "Karl, please," she pleaded, her voice shaking slightly. "I only want what's best for you. You deserve to be happy."

Karl's eyes blazed with fury as he stood up, towering over Elisabeth. "And you think getting rid of my wife will make me happy?" he spat. "You think giving up on her is the answer? No, Elisabeth. I will not let her go. She is my wife, and she will remain my wife. Do you understand?"

Elisabeth's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Karl. I understand."

Karl turned away from her, his hands trembling with anger and hurt. "Leave me," he commanded, his voice cold and unyielding.

Elisabeth hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on him with a mix of sorrow and frustration. But she obeyed, quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Karl stood alone in his office, the silence heavy and oppressive. He picked up the glass of whiskey again, downing the rest of the liquid in one gulp. The burn did nothing to quell the storm raging within him. He had to find a way to make you understand, to make you see that you were his, and there was no escaping that truth. No matter the cost.

Karl didn't know how long he sat in his office drinking, seething with silent anger and sadness. The hours passed slowly, the light in the room shifting as the day wore on. Hans knocked on the door around lunchtime, offering to bring him something to eat, but Karl sent him away with a sharp dismissal. The whiskey provided a bitter solace, its warmth doing little to dull the ache inside him.

Karl sat brooding, the silence of his office punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and the occasional clink of glass against wood. His thoughts were a chaotic mess, swirling with the events of the previous night and the sense of betrayal that gnawed at him. He couldn't believe how you had deceived him, how you had shattered the fragile hope he had held onto.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Karl straightened, the interruption pulling him out of his thoughts. "Come in," he barked, his voice rough.

The door opened, and Anna stepped inside, her expression a mix of concern and determination. Karl's eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "What is it, Anna?" he demanded, his patience thin.

Anna took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a steady resolve. "Herr Hoffmeister, madame has refused to eat both breakfast and lunch," she stated, her tone firm yet respectful.

Karl felt a surge of anger rise within him, and he stood up abruptly, staggering slightly from the effects of the whiskey. "What is she planning now?" he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "Starve herself to get rid of me? Does she hate me that much?"

Your words from the previous night echoed in his mind, the disdain and contempt cutting deep. "Fat old man," you had called him. The memory stung, fueling his anger further.

Anna stepped in front of him, her expression pleading. "Herr Hoffmeister, she's very sad that she can't leave the bedroom," she said gently. "Please, consider her feelings."

Karl ignored her, pushing past Anna as he stormed towards the door. "I don't care," he growled. "She will eat, whether she wants to or not."

Anna followed him, her voice filled with concern. "Herr Hoffmeister, this isn't the way to handle things. Forcing her won't help."

But Karl barely heard her, his mind consumed with the determination to confront you. He reached the bedroom door, unlocking it with a swift motion and pushing it open, ready to unleash his fury.

But the sight that met his eyes stopped him in his tracks. You were sitting by the window, hugging your knees close to your chest, tears streaming down your face. You looked broken, defeated.

For a moment, Karl's anger faltered, replaced by a pang of sorrow and guilt. He took a hesitant step forward, his voice softening. "[Your Name]," he said quietly, his tone a mix of frustration and something gentler. "You need to eat."

You looked up, your tear-streaked face filled with pain and defiance. "I don't want to eat," you replied, your voice trembling. "What's the point? I'm a prisoner here."

Karl's heart clenched at your words, the raw emotion in your voice cutting through his anger. He moved closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and desperation. "You are not a prisoner," he insisted, though the words felt hollow even to him. "You are my wife. I want to take care of you."

You shook your head, wiping the tears from your face and straightening your posture, determined not to let Karl see your vulnerability. "You don't understand," you whispered. "I feel trapped. Suffocated."

Karl reached out, trembling as he gently touched your shoulder. But you flinched, standing up and moving away from him. The sight of your retreating form, the rejection, ignited a fresh wave of anger within him.

"I said you need to eat," he ordered, his voice sharp.

"I won't," you replied, your tone taking on a challenging edge. "Not unless you let me out of this bedroom." your sadness dissipated in the heat of the confrontation.

Karl's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. "You have no right to demand anything," he snapped. "You will eat, and you will stay in this room."

You shook your head, your resolve unwavering. "I won't eat unless I can leave this room and have Liselotte serve me again."

Karl's face twisted with fury. "That's not going to happen," he growled. "You will eat, or there will be consequences."

"I don't care," you shot back, your voice filled with steely determination. "If you don't let me out, I won't eat. Not ever."

Karl's fists clenched tighter, his knuckles turning white. He was torn between his anger and a deep, unsettling worry. "You're a difficult woman," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

"And you're a cruel man," you replied, your eyes meeting his with defiance. "But I won't be broken by you."

The tension between you was palpable, a silent battle of wills that neither of you was willing to lose. Karl's anger simmered beneath the surface, but a flicker of something else—an unwilling admiration for your unyielding spirit—crept into his mind.

Karl's fists unclenched slowly as he took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto yours. The tension in the room was palpable, but there was a glimmer of reluctant understanding in his gaze. He stepped closer, his voice low and measured.

"Fine," he said finally, the words heavy with reluctance. "You can leave this bedroom and Liselotte can serve you again. But you must swear to me that you will not try to escape anymore."

You looked at him, your eyes wide with surprise and a hint of suspicion. "And if I don't?" you asked cautiously.

Karl's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "If you try to escape again," he said, his voice low and threatening, "I will fire Liselotte. And this time, there will be no reprieve."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you weighed his words. The prospect of freedom, even within the confines of the estate, was too tempting to resist. You nodded slowly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and resignation. "I swear," you said softly. "I won't try to escape."

Karl's expression softened slightly, though the intensity in his eyes remained. "Good," he murmured, stepping closer until he was mere inches from you. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you. You're mine, and you always will be."

You were irritated by Karl's possessive words. You were not a possession, an object that people could possess. "I'm not yours, Karl," you said, your voice trembling with frustration and anger. "I am a person with my own thoughts, feelings, and desires. You can't just claim me like some object."

But Karl didn't even seem to hear you. His eyes were fixed on your lips, a dark intensity simmering in his gaze that you didn't notice while you continued to lecture him. The anger and defiance in your voice only seemed to fuel his desire, the raw, untamed emotions stirring something primal within him.

"Karl, you need to understand," you continued, unaware of the shift in his demeanor. "You can't control me, no matter how much you try. I will never be truly yours."

Karl's breathing grew heavier, his gaze unwavering as he stepped closer, the space between you growing smaller with each passing moment. His eyes roved over your face, lingering on your lips, and for a moment, the world around him faded away.

Without warning, Karl closed the remaining distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as he pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. The shock of his sudden action left you breathless, your anger momentarily forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The intensity of his kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, a mix of anger, confusion, and an unexpected surge of desire. You tried to push him away, but his grip only tightened, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against his body. The raw passion in his touch was undeniable, and despite your anger, you couldn't help but respond, your body betraying you as you kissed him back.

Karl's lips moved with a hunger, a desperate need that mirrored the turmoil within him. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, demanding entry, and you found yourself parting your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of whiskey and something uniquely his. The sensations overwhelmed you, the feel of his lips, the heat of his body pressed against yours, igniting a fire that you had tried so hard to suppress.

Suddenly, the two of you were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Startled, Karl broke away from the kiss, turning to see Anna standing in the doorway, her face struggling to maintain a neutral expression as a suppressed smile played on her lips.

You blushed furiously, stepping back from Karl and wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "How dare you kiss me without my permission?!" you exclaimed, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "You're indecent!"

Karl smiled slightly, an infuriatingly confident expression on his face. "You kissed me back," he stated calmly, his eyes locked onto yours with a smug glint.

"That's a lie!" you shot back, your cheeks burning. You glanced at Anna, who quickly averted her gaze, trying to maintain her composure.

Mouse, sensing the tension, barked sharply from the bed. You moved to pick him up, cradling the small puppy in your arms as if seeking comfort. Mouse's presence provided a small measure of solace, his soft fur soothing against your skin.

Karl's smile widened as he watched you with an air of satisfaction. "You can deny it all you want," he said softly, his voice tinged with amusement. "But we both know the truth."

You glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You're impossible," you muttered, turning your attention to Mouse, who licked your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

Anna, sensing the need to diffuse the tension, stepped forward. "Herr Hoffmeister," she said gently, "perhaps it's best to give Madame some space for now."

Karl glanced at Anna, his expression briefly flickering with annoyance before he nodded. "Very well," he said, his voice still carrying an undertone of authority. He turned back to you, his gaze softening slightly. "Remember what I said. You stay in the house, and Liselotte can continue serving you."

You didn't respond, your focus remaining on Mouse. The room fell into an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. Karl sighed softly, running a hand through his hair before turning to leave.

As he walked past Anna, he paused, his voice low but firm. "Make sure she eats," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Anna nodded, her expression serious. "Of course, Herr Hoffmeister."

With one last glance at you, Karl exited the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the lingering effects of the encounter remained. You sank down onto the bed, holding Mouse close as you tried to steady your racing thoughts.

Anna moved quietly to the tray, arranging the food with a gentle touch. "Madame," she said softly, her voice filled with compassion, "please, you must eat something."

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of frustration and resignation. "I don't know what to do, Anna," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I feel so trapped."

Anna's eyes softened with sympathy as she sat beside you on the bed. "I know, madame," she said gently. "But you must stay strong. Take it one day at a time. And remember, you are not alone."

You nodded, grateful for her kindness. The road ahead seemed daunting, filled with uncertainty and challenges. But for now, you took comfort in the small act of defiance, knowing that you still had your spirit, your loyalty to Liselotte, and the love of a small, loyal puppy.

Anna then got up, ordering you to eat while she would call Liselotte to help you prepare for dinner later. You were excited at the prospect and placed Mouse on the floor, who ran to play with his ball that was in the corner of the bedroom while you picked up your plate to eat your lunch. The warm food provided a small comfort, and you realized how hungry you had been after the emotional turmoil of the past day.

As you ate, Anna left the room quietly, her soft footsteps barely audible. You savored each bite, the simple act of eating bringing a sense of normalcy back to your life. The thought of seeing Liselotte again lifted your spirits, and you found yourself looking forward to the evening despite the lingering tension with Karl.

After finishing your meal, you set the plate aside and watched Mouse chase his ball around the room, his playful antics bringing a smile to your face. There was a knock on the door, and you called out, "Come in." Your heart lifted when you saw Liselotte enter, her familiar presence a balm to your troubled mind. You stood up, moving to embrace her, but she remained at the door, bowing slightly with a professional demeanor.

"Liselotte," you began, your voice filled with emotion, "I'm so glad to see you."

Liselotte's expression was neutral, her eyes not meeting yours. "Madame," she replied formally, "how may I assist you today?"

You felt your enthusiasm deflate, understanding the reason for her coldness. She had every right to be upset, having been wrongly accused and almost losing her job. The guilt weighed heavily on you, but you were determined not to lose her friendship.

"Liselotte, I'm truly sorry for what happened," you said earnestly, stepping closer. "I never meant for you to get involved or to put your job at risk. You mean a great deal to me."

Liselotte remained silent, her posture rigid. "I understand, madame," she said after a moment, her tone clipped. "But it was a difficult situation. I have worked here for many years, and my loyalty has always been to the household."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And your loyalty is something I value deeply. Please, forgive me. I never wanted to cause you any harm."

Liselotte's eyes finally met yours, and you saw a flicker of emotion there—hurt, anger, and perhaps a trace of understanding. "It was a close call," she admitted, her voice quieter. "I have never been accused of something like that before."

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I promise it won't happen again. You are more than just a servant to me, Liselotte. You are my friend."

There was a long silence as Liselotte studied you, her expression softening just a little. "I hope you mean that, madame," she said finally. "Because friendship is built on trust and honesty, and that has to go both ways."

"I do mean it," you assured her, taking her hand in yours. "I need your friendship now more than ever."

Liselotte nodded slowly, a small smile appearing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, madame. Your friendship means a lot to me," she said softly.

You returned her smile, feeling a genuine warmth towards her. "I'm glad we can trust each other, Liselotte. We need to stick together in this house."

Liselotte's eyes sparkled with a mix of relief and gratitude. "I agree, madame. It's been difficult, but knowing we have each other makes it more bearable."

Her words reassured you, and you felt a renewed sense of determination. "We will get through this, Liselotte. Together."

Liselotte hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Madame, was it really Elisabeth who helped you escape?"

The mention of Elisabeth's name made your blood boil, and your expression hardened. "Yes, it was Elisabeth," you replied, your voice laced with anger. "She helped me escape and had the audacity to lie and accuse you unfairly."

Liselotte's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "How could she do such a thing?" she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Because she's manipulative and selfish," you replied bitterly. "But she made a mistake by lying about you. Now she has made an enemy of me."

Liselotte looked at you, a mix of admiration and hope in her eyes. "Thank you, madame. Your support means everything to me."

You nodded firmly, your determination strengthening as you let go of Liselotte's hands. "I will take revenge on Elisabeth," you declared, your voice resolute.

Liselotte watched you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "How will you do that, madame?" she asked softly.

You blushed a little, feeling a rush of uncertainty. "I'm not entirely sure yet," you admitted. "But I will find a way."

Liselotte thought for a moment, then a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "If Elisabeth likes Herr Hoffmeister so much, why don't you use his devotion to you to upset her?" she suggested.

The memory of Karl's kiss flashed through your mind, making you blush even more. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. "It's a good suggestion," you conceded, "but I don't want to give Karl false hope. It would only complicate things further."

Liselotte nodded, understanding your hesitation. "Very well, madame," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "Then let us make you beautiful for dinner tonight. If we can't use Herr Hoffmeister directly, we can at least make Elisabeth jealous and ensure that Karl can't take his eyes off you."

You smiled at Liselotte's enthusiasm, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect. "Alright," you agreed, standing up. "Let's do it."

Liselotte led you to the vanity, her hands deftly arranging your hair and selecting the perfect accessories to complement your features. As she worked, you felt a sense of camaraderie and support, knowing that you weren't alone in this struggle.

Liselotte’s skillful hands worked quickly as she finished arranging your hair, a delicate yet sophisticated style that framed your face beautifully. She then selected a deep burgundy dress from your wardrobe, its rich color and elegant design accentuating your figure in a way that was both understated and alluring. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin as Liselotte helped you into the dress, adjusting the fit to perfection.

When you were finally ready, Liselotte stepped back, her eyes filled with pride. “You look stunning, madame,” she said softly, a smile playing on her lips.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, surprised by the transformation. There was a certain confidence in your appearance that hadn’t been there before, a reminder that even in the midst of your confinement, you still had control over how you presented yourself. “Thank you, Liselotte,” you replied, returning her smile. “I feel ready.”

With that, Liselotte accompanied you to the dining room. As you approached, you could hear the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of voices from within. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and entered the room.

Karl, Johann, and Elisabeth were already seated at the table. Johann was engrossed in his meal, while Elisabeth picked at her food, her expression thoughtful. Karl, however, hadn’t touched his plate. As you stepped into the room, his gaze immediately locked onto you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

For a moment, there was silence as Karl took in your appearance. The flicker of admiration in his eyes was unmistakable, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you as you moved towards the table. Despite the tension between you, there was an undeniable connection, a pull that neither of you could fully ignore.

Determined to maintain some distance, you deliberately chose a seat further away from Karl, hoping to avoid any direct confrontation. However, the moment you sat down, Karl's expression darkened, his earlier anger and resentment, briefly softened by the kiss, came rushing back. He gestured sharply toward the chair beside him. "Come here and sit next to me," he commanded, his voice calm yet leaving no room for disagreement.

You hesitated, your heart pounding. The last thing you wanted was to sit so close to him after the kiss. “I’d prefer to sit here,” you replied, your tone polite but firm.

Karl’s eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a dangerous edge. “That wasn’t a request,” he stated, the words carrying a weight that made the air in the room feel heavier. The lightness of the earlier conversation evaporated, replaced by a tension that gripped everyone at the table.

The room fell silent, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of unease. Johann paused mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air as he looked between you and Karl, sensing the shift in the dynamic. Elisabeth’s eyes darted nervously from you to Karl, her expression betraying her discomfort.

You stopped, the force of Karl’s tone catching you off guard. He had never spoken to you like this before, and it was clear that something had changed within him since your attempted escape. The authority in his voice was unsettling, a stark reminder of the power he held over you.

Slowly, you rose from your seat, your movements deliberate as you made your way to the chair beside Karl. The silence in the room was suffocating, every eye on you as you reluctantly took the seat he had indicated. The distance you had tried to maintain was now gone, and you could feel the intensity of his presence beside you, an overwhelming force that seemed to dominate the space.

Karl didn’t speak for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. The tension in the air was thick, the unspoken words hanging between you like a dark cloud. Finally, he leaned in slightly, his voice low but firm. “You will sit beside me from now on,” he said, his tone brooking no dissent. “Do you understand?”

You weren’t intimidated by Karl’s tone. Instead of answering him, you pushed your chair as far away from him as you could, maintaining your silence. The scrape of the chair’s legs against the wooden floor echoed loudly in the tense room, causing everyone at the table to flinch.

Karl’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing at your defiance. His patience, already worn thin, snapped. Without a word, he reached down and grabbed the leg of your chair, forcefully pulling it back toward him. The sudden motion made the chair lurch violently, causing you to gasp in surprise as you were abruptly brought closer to him. The noise of the chair scraping against the floor was harsh and grating, the sound amplifying the tension that already hung heavy in the air.

"Enough of this nonsense," Karl growled, his voice low and dangerously controlled. His grip on the chair was unyielding, his eyes boring into yours with a mix of anger and something darker, more possessive. "You will sit beside me as my wife. This is not up for discussion."

His words, spoken with such finality, sent a shiver down your spine. There was no doubt in his voice, no room for negotiation. Despite the kiss earlier softening him a little, Karl was still deeply hurt and angry over your attempt to flee. The betrayal he felt was evident in his every action, and the raw emotion simmering beneath the surface was both frightening and overwhelming.

You stared back at him, your heart pounding in your chest, but you refused to let him see your fear. Your eyes met his with defiance, though the close proximity made it difficult to maintain your composure. "You can force me to sit here," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension, "but you can’t force me to accept this."

Karl’s expression darkened, a flicker of something akin to pain crossing his features before being replaced by cold resolve. "You can pretend all you want," he murmured, his tone low and edged with frustration, "but you will learn to accept your place by my side. You are my wife, and nothing will change that."

The finality in his voice was suffocating, his words a chilling reminder of the control he exerted over your life. The power dynamic between you was stark and inescapable, and the reality of your situation pressed down on you like a weight.

Elisabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting between you and Karl with a mixture of anxiety and something else—satisfaction, perhaps, at seeing you so clearly under Karl’s thumb. Johann, on the other hand, looked deeply uneasy, his brow furrowed as he watched the exchange, clearly disapproving of Karl’s behavior but unwilling to speak out against it.

Despite the oppressive atmosphere, you maintained your silence, determined not to give Karl the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You focused on the meal in front of you, forcing yourself to take small bites even though your appetite had all but vanished. The taste of the food was bland in your mouth, your mind too occupied with the implications of Karl’s words to truly register the flavors.

Karl’s presence beside you was suffocating, his proximity a constant reminder of the power he held over you. His hand, still resting on the leg of your chair, served as a physical manifestation of his control, and you could feel the tension radiating from him in waves.

As the meal continued in tense silence, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that had led you to this moment. Your failed escape, Karl’s furious pursuit, the kiss that had left you confused and unsettled—everything had culminated in this power struggle, and it was clear that Karl had no intention of relinquishing his hold on you.

But even as you sat there, outwardly compliant, your mind was already working on your next move. Karl might have won this battle, but the war was far from over. You would bide your time, gathering your strength and waiting for the right moment to strike back. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

For now, though, you had to play the part of the obedient wife, at least outwardly. You allowed Karl to believe he had the upper hand, even as your resolve hardened. You would survive this, and you would find a way to regain your freedom, no matter what it took.

Karl, for his part, seemed to sense the undercurrent of defiance still lingering within you, and though he didn’t say anything further, his grip on the chair remained firm, a silent reminder of his control. The atmosphere in the dining room remained thick with tension, and though the meal continued, it was clear that nothing had truly been resolved.

Karl finally let go of the chair, his fingers uncurling slowly as he hesitated, his hand hovering just above your thigh. For a brief moment, he seemed torn, wanting to reach out to you, to establish some physical connection, but the memory of your earlier defiance flashed in his mind. The thought of you swatting his hand away in front of everyone stopped him cold. With a quiet sigh, he withdrew his hand, placing it back on the table. His eyes remained fixed on you as you took small, measured bites of your food, which had been placed in front of you by an employee.

The atmosphere in the room remained tense, with the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Karl watched you closely, his brow furrowing as he noted the slow, almost reluctant way you ate. After a few moments, he couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer.

"Why aren't you eating properly?" Karl's voice was low, his tone carrying a mixture of irritation and genuine concern.

You glanced at him, your expression cool and defiant. "I could ask you the same," you replied, your voice edged with subtle humor.

Karl blinked, caught off guard by your retort. His gaze flickered down to his own plate, where the food remained untouched. He hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t taken a single bite. With a quiet, self-deprecating sigh, he acknowledged the truth in your words.

"You’re right," Karl admitted, his voice softer now, tinged with a reluctant understanding. "But I still want you to eat properly." His tone held a trace of the old authority, but the anger that had fueled his earlier outburst was noticeably absent.

You shrugged slightly, still playing with the food on your plate. "I had lunch late," you explained, though there was a hint of irritation in your voice. "That's why I'm not very hungry now."

Across the table, Elisabeth’s fork paused mid-air, her knuckles tightening slightly as she overheard the exchange. Her eyes darted between you and Karl, a flicker of jealousy darkening her features as she took in the surprisingly soft tone Karl had adopted with you. She forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Karl, however, seemed oblivious to Elisabeth's reaction. His focus remained solely on you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of the vulnerability he’d glimpsed earlier. The kiss in the bedroom had softened something within him, but the sting of your attempted escape still lingered, a raw wound that refused to heal. He wanted to reach out, to mend the growing rift between you, but pride and anger held him back.

He watched as you continued to take small, disinterested bites, and his own appetite seemed to vanish entirely. "Fine," he said quietly, conceding the point. "But from now on, try to eat at the proper times."

You gave a noncommittal nod, your attention turning back to your plate, but the brief exchange had shifted something between you, lightening the tension just a little.

As the meal continued, the earlier tension slowly dissipated, though it never quite vanished. Karl remained quiet, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, while you focused on finishing your meal, your mind already planning your next move.

Elisabeth, on the other hand, couldn’t quite hide the frustration bubbling beneath her composed exterior. She picked at her food, her thoughts clouded with jealousy as she watched the subtle, almost tender way Karl interacted with you. It was a side of him she rarely saw, and the realization gnawed at her, feeding her resentment.

In the corner of the room, Johann finally cleared his throat, attempting to break the lingering tension. "So," he began awkwardly, glancing between the three of you, "perhaps we should discuss something more pleasant. The weather has been quite nice lately, hasn’t it?"

The mundane comment was met with silence, but the absurdity of it finally broke through the tension. You couldn’t help but let out a small, involuntary laugh, the sound light and almost surprised. Karl’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile playing on his face as he shook his head at Johann’s clumsy attempt at humor.

The moment passed quickly, but it left a lingering sense of normalcy, a reminder that not everything between you and Karl had to be a battle. It was a small, fleeting victory, but in the midst of everything, it felt like a step in the right direction.

[brezelzeit]

‘Allo ‘Allo! characters drawn in the style of the album covers for an electronic music record label I like called “Disko Warp”; more precisely, the style of @goshadole on Instagram as he is the person who does the art for those covers

From left to right: Herr Flick, Helga, Gruber

Been listening to quite a few songs from those people as of late and thus looking at their album art and I love these characters and this show as y’all know so my mind was like “combine them in a drawing” 😂

[little-candy-store-of-horrors]

Flick Fick the gestapo 🖕

[amazing-spiderling]

What's up here's an Excalibur drabble

For Day 6 of Nightcrawler Week : "Team Leader"

"What do you mean, it should be Brian?!"

"To be honest, I don't see that the matter is up for discussion." Kurt ripped a piece of packing tape with his teeth, smoothing it down against the cardboard with a single swipe of his hand. "We'll be in his home. His country. It makes sense that he should lead us."

Kitty huffed, crossing her arms tight across her chest. It hadn't been that long ago that they'd arrived on Muir Island, licking their wounds in an attempt to regroup and figure out what came next. Starting a new team was a daunting endeavor, one that had been made slightly less terrifying because she had old friends to rely on. Or at least she'd thought she did.

"I don't see what the location has to do with anything. You and Ororo and Logan and Piotr… you all did just fine in the states, and none of you were exactly locals." She huffed.

Kurt turned his head to her with a nod. "That's true enough, but when we arrived we followed the Scott's guidance. And the professor's. It was their 'home turf' so to speak."

"Well they're not here now," Kitty snapped, regretting it immediately.

"No." Kurt's voice was soft as his golden eyes turned down. "No, they're not. There's only us now, the inheritors of Xavier's dream."

Silence wavered in the air for a long moment, both of them opening their mouths to speak before swallowing the words. Eventually, it was Kitty that broke the silence.

"You told me you found him at the bottom of a bottle. Drowning his sorrows. You said-"

"A single bottle was unlikely to do the job," Kurt finished for her. "So I threw him in the ocean. Yes. I remember."

Kitty threw her hands up and she forced herself to focus enough to become solid, solely for the satisfaction of stomping her foot on the ground. "And you think that display proves he's the man for the job?"

"I believe-" The words were cut short as Kurt looked up, as he straightened from his usual curl and crouch. He met Kitty's frown with a smile of his own, though it wasn't the most confident one he'd ever worn. "I believe that Herr Braddock has the abilities required to effectively lead our team. He has much to learn, yes. As do we all." He reached out a hand, waiting patiently until Kitty reached out to take it, her expression slowly softening. "We should all embrace this as a time of renewal. Appreciate our new home, the new people-"

Kitty's head shot up, her eyes wide. "That's what this is about, isn't it. You're worried about making a good first impression with the locals. You think if big, blonde, and buff is the face of Excalibur, we'll have an easier time fitting in."

"Katzchen," Kurt sighed. "I would never imply-"

"No," Kitty stopped him short. "You wouldn't. You're far too kind. But that doesn't mean you can't be pragmatic when you need to be."

She pulled her hand back, holding it in a fist tight to her chest. How long ago had it been since she herself had run from Kurt in terror, had avoided so much as glancing his way in the hallways of the mansion? The memories still plagued her, and though he'd never so much as whispered a complaint to anyone, she knew deep down, her prejudice had not gone unnoticed. She took a deep breath in an attempt to ease the tension that had built up in her shoulders and neck, and tried to forgive herself the way she knew Kurt had ages ago.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Kurt's smile warmed, and his tail flicked from side to side as he lifted the box he'd been packing.

"If you think this is the right choice," Kitty sighed, gathering a crate of floppy disks and motherboards. Muir Island had never been any more than a pit stop. A place to rest and recover before taking up the fight once more.

"Then I'll follow your lead."

@amazing-nightcrawler

[bellcza]

i think flick just doesn’t like fort😭

yeahhhhh that might be it. i don’t mean to be a dick but idk what hansi sees in martín he has not been that good so far.

[kmackatie]

happy wednesday, have a little wip for the sleep, with benefits epilogue

Essek is waiting on the other side when he pulls open the door, leaning against the door and apparently being caught by surprise as the solid surface swings out from under him. "Ah!" “Oh, shit, sorry—” Essek's hand scrambles and slams into Caleb’s chest as he catches him, Caleb steadying him with a hand on his waist. They end up far closer than expected, Essek staring up at Caleb with a wide-eyed expression, cheeks darkening as he lets out a huff. He really is quite close. Caleb grins. “If you wanted me to hold you, all you had to do was ask.” Essek groans and rolls his eyes, straightening and primly stepping away. Caleb notes his hand doesn’t leave his chest. "Caleb." "Hallo, Herr Thelyss." "Hi." Essek’s expression softens into a small smile, stroking across Caleb’s coat lapels slightly before flicking off non-existent dust and straightening them slightly. It’s terribly endearing. Then he moves his fingers to Caleb’s shaved cheeks. “You—you shaved.” "Ja. Do you like it?” Essek's fingers still, though they don’t leave, his eyes flicking across Caleb’s face as he grips his chin to turn Caleb’s head, assessing. “It’s—new. You haven’t shaved since that first month—” "It will grow back." "Good," says Essek, then he breaks Caleb’s gaze, eyes filtering around until he smiles a small, embarrassed smile. “Not that this doesn’t look good! It does. It suits you in a different way, just—” Caleb chuckles—it feels like a victory in its own way, that he has given Essek such pause.

[celedyn]

Fire Fest 2024

<< HOT TO GO! By Chappell Roan >>

Celedyn enters on a pair of disco tile covered roller skates, gliding over the sandstone cobbles as smoothly as if he were on ice. The dress he wears, made entirely of beaded fringe, is perfectly suited to accentuating every swish and flick of his hips.

The high elf moves as though he were strutting the length of a catwalk, but he stays perfectly in one spot, the skates rolling beneath him as his hips snap to the beat. He stops, then kicks off, rolling backwards before looping around.

Celedyn skates along the front row, feet weaving effortlessly as he twists to swap from forwards to backwards and back again. He swoops to a stop next to Solinor, offering a sly wink and plucking at an edge of his beaded fringe dress, handing it to him.

Celedyn spins away from Solinor, the dress unraveling until he is left in just a teenty tinty pair of Fire Fest hot pants, a pair of fans tucked in the waist. He ruffles his fingers his own hair, sending a cascade of glitter over his toned body.

Celedyn has the sort of body that was meticulously sculpted for pure vanity rather than labor, abs tight and thighs flexing with each pump of his legs as he spins and shuffles, moving with an ease and fluidity that speaks to countless hours of practice.

Celedyn stops next to Ramuul and reaches into a barely functional absurdly small pocket. He pretends to pull out a compact, opening his hand like a clamshell to reveal glitter in his palm.

Celedyn applies it to his lips with the imaginary mirror before planting a kiss on Ramuul's cheek, leaving a shimmering stamp behind as he skates away.

Celedyn rolls up to Sana, takes a generous pinch of the glitter and sprinkles it overhead- dusting her in a gentle cascade of sparkles. He winks, his smile conspiratorial as he skates backwards to take center stage.

Celedyn pulls into a tight spin, subtle motions sending him faster and faster, until he lifts a leg up and lets the momentum carry him on a single skate.

Without warning, he reaches for the fans at the back of his waist and snaps them open, releasing an absolute TIDAL WAVE of glitter over the crowd.

Celedyn laughs, unrepentant as he skates along the edge of the audience, making sure every member gets a dusting. The high elf cartwheels, one leg leading the other, then catching up at the apex to clack his roller skates together as they burst into flame.

Celedyn glides, leaving trails of flame in his wake. They show up in tidy little braids as his skates weave and his hips pump, body glitter reflecting the warm tones of the fire, almost making it look like the high elf himself is ablaze.

Celedyn tosses his fans out into the crowd, winking to their new recipients. At center stage, his legs part wide then come together, drawing out a flaming heart with him in the center as he presses manicured fingertips to his lips and blows a kiss.

Celedyn rocks up onto the toes of his skates before pushing off, arching backwards into a flip as those long legs part wide, tumbling over to land in the splits. He lifts his hands up, shamelessly demanding the adulations of the crowd.

Celedyn pushes himself up as if to stand, but the roller skates simply… well… roll, dropping him back into the splits. His brow furrows as he tries, fails, and tries again before giving up with a little huff and reaching to grab the brass pole.

<< Hot in Herre (SILO x Dallas Canton Remix) by Nelly >>

Pole? What pole? When did it get here? Who set it up? Who knows. Not you. Because you were distracted by a shirtless elf in hot pants and roller skates. That’s what they call ‘The Prestige.’

Celedyn grins and uses the dance pole to smoothly pull himself to his feet. He reaches overhead to grip it as his hips snap in time to the tempo, left, right, then one long leg sweeps up overhead to kick the pole, showering the high elf in sparks.

Celedyn spins himself around the pole, whipping to pick up speed until he launches himself up into a spin. His long legs swing, spread, and kick, leaving comet trails in their wake as he uses their momentum to sail around the pole.

Celedyn steadies himself, holding his body parallel to the pole, legs swaying as though skating weightlessly through the air. While it looks effortless, his body tells another story, muscles tight as a single drop of sweat snakes between his shoulder blades.

Celedyn returns to the ground, wafting his hands towards himself. He really should have kept those fans. The high elf rocks his hips side to side as he considers how to cool down, then casts a sly look to the crowd and tucks his thumbs into his waistband.

With a little shimmy the shorts are stripped away. It’s hard to tell exactly where the crystal covered fabric ends and rhinestoned skin begins, but very little is left to the imagination.

Celedyn lifts up one leg, stretches the booty shorts over the end of his skate, and slingshots them into the audience.

With a toothy grin and gleeful little giggle, Caythaes jumps to their feet and loudly gasps, "I didn't know there would be STRIPPERS at this BURLESQUE show!! Think of the children!!" They quickly pull off their own tabard, leaving them nearly as clothed as Celedyn, and throw it at his head before plopping back down into their seat.

Celedyn stands with a laugh before the tabard tossed by Caythaes falls over him. He tugs it off his head with a huff that quickly melts into mischief. He takes a deep, dramatic sniff of the cloth, looks briefly starstruck, then grabs it in his teeth.

Celedyn swings his legs in heavy pendulous swoops, showers of sparks arcing as he scales the pole one swing at a time. Upon reaching the top, he grips it between his thighs, shuffling about with the tabard, mounting it like an aggressively pink flag.

Celedyn leans back, spine arcing until he is laying against the pole. Upside down, he smiles brightly to the crowd, a fine sheen of sweat showing that his chest heaves as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

Celedyn suddenly plummets!

Celedyn clamps his strong thighs, stopping the fall mere inches from hitting his pretty face. He beams brightly as he reaches up to set his palms on the ground, pushing up to a handstand before his long legs part into the splits.

Celedyn tumbles forward to his feet, springing back to the pole for one last spin before he leaps back onto the shaft, gripping it as he sweeps his whole body up and holds it at an angle, one long leg fully extended, and one tucked in for his final pose.

Celedyn lowers himself, panting and smiling. He curtsies to the left, curtsies to the right, then turns right around to face absolutely no one as he takes a low bow before skating away.

@mekandawn @twosidedsana