#leutnant

[hungry-hobbits-art]

i'm sure this isnt what buccheim and peterson anticipated would come from their works but that's what you're getting. originally i wasn't going to post it but @algrenion forced my hand 😤

[ DO NOT REPOST/EDIT ]

[madnessofmen]

Women in military uniform became a popular image in WWI Germany. However, this was not an indicator of, nor advocacy for, equalizing gender roles; women were still barred from combat roles in the military. Such imagery was instead intended to liken women's efforts on the home front to front-line service.

[siriussimon]

Ghost and Konig drunk at the pub at the end of a large mission debating who you would rather have sex with. You overhear them and in your drunken state you proclaim that you could take both of them. They look at you shocked, but you're drunk little slut and you love the attention so you add in, "at the same time." Before you can even register what is happening Konig is picking you up and Ghost is calling an Uber back to the base. They're both trying to discreetly slip their hand between your thighs and up your shirt. Once you get back to base they escort you to your room and have their ways with you.

i like the way you think anon. this has me running laps just thinking about these two big masked men <3

Nsfw Content Below.

“you’re so dirty, meine liebe.” konigs voice was pressed so softly against your ear, lips ghosting the shell of it as he nipped at the nape of your neck. your back was pressed up against his chest, both of his large hands gripping at your inner thighs, keeping your shaking legs open, which had ghost eagerly lapping at your cunt.

“no— i just~” you whimpered out, barely able to form a coherent sentence when ghost was flicking his tongue so deliciously at your clit. your head falling back into konigs shoulder, your hair sticking to your forward, another whine leaving your lips when one of konigs hand began fondling your tits.

ghost chuckled into your sex, the vibration making your back arch, your cum leaking out of you, cunt practically drooling all over ghosts tongue.

“sweet thing can’t even talk huh? you taste so fuckin’ good, lovie.” his words sickening sweet despite him ripping another orgasm from you before even putting his cock inside. prepping you nice and slow. taking his time.

“ja, she seems ready, no? think she can take the both of us? like mein liebling said?” konigs words bringing you back to when you foolishly confessed that you could take both of their cocks so publicly.

your head was shaking rapidly, legs turning into themselves trying to shield ghosts abuse on your cunt, watching as he sat up on his knees, hands grabbing your knees and pushing them apart once more. you could feel his eyes looking over you and it made your skin feel flushed.

they practically manhandled you into a new position, so weak already, so hazy that you couldn’t even move properly. now on your hands and knees, your face inches away from ghosts hard cock, your back arching when you felt the tip of konigs cock pushing at your folds.

“please, im sorry—“

“your pleas are useless. you wanted this right? you wanted to be used like a little slut so fuckin’ deal with it.” ghost’s voice rumbled deep, a primal kind of growl in his tone before he stuffed your face full of him, making a muffled shriek fall from you.

“be nice, mein leutnant. she’s being so good for us, ja?” you heard from behind you before his full length penetrated you, filling you to the brim, right to your womb.

“yeah— fuck, our pretty girl.”

[deutschland-im-krieg]

15 victory ace Leutnant Alois Heldmann of Jasta 10. His Pfalz D.III and his Fokker D.VII are featured

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐄 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠) 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

Summary: A heated confrontation between Ghost and König occurs just before the takeoff. The colonel tests the boundries of sanity and good taste, when he finds Ghost on a battlefield alone. Displayed for him to take down with a single pull of the trigger.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

A/N: Apologise for the delay as I mentioned I was on vacations and now I'm trying to catch up with the requests. Thanks for your patience! ( ˘ ³˘) Y/C ━ Your Codename Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: reader is eastern european coded, desc. of blood/injuries/unalive bodies, smut (very brief desc., slow and gentle sex, p in v, voyeurism)

Word count: 3.7k

YALL I RAN OUT OF KONIG'S GIFS WHAT THE HECK

The armory was bursting at the seams, when many KorTac soldiers came in and out, preparing for the upcoming takeoff. The racks usually filled with rifles were emptied, gear sets laying on the shelfs mostly gone. 

The tall figure of the lieutenant obscured the privates dressed all in black. The yellow light dangling from the ceiling casted a shadow inside of the skull’s eye sockets. Black irises merged with the pupils of his eyes.

Ghost hadn’t put his vest nor the gun holster on yet. He left the room in which he and his lover slept in, then headed straight to the magazine. The man needed to clean his gun and sharpen the knives before the departure. It was a part of his routine, almost becoming a ritual of sorts. A brilliant soldier.

Ghost walked into the narrow alley. To his dismay there was already another person sitting on the metal bench against the wall. But not just simply another person, no. It was him, the king.

König sat with his legs spread open, casually. An assault rifle was held firmly, when his opposite hand cleaned the barrel precisely and slowly. The colonel wasn’t in a rush. Ghost could feel the man's cold, blue eyes following him until the Britishman stopped near one of the shelves with gear. 

Simon took a gun holster in his hand and swiftly wrapped it around his massive thigh. With a quick movement, he secured the strap, before moving to putting on a tactical vest. Everything went according to Ghost’s liking, the cocky Austrian man kept his mouth shut. 

Until he didn’t.

━ Your medic is a treasure, leutnant [ger.: lieutenant]. Would kill to have one this skilled on my team. And equally pretty too. ━ König chuckled under his black hood, his shoulders slightly shaking. Some would say it was a nervous laugh, but Ghost’s experience told him it was not. The colonel had a filthy mouth, that’s all. 

A silence followed his blunt provocations as Ghost kept adjusting the vest’s straps over his jacket. Simon Riley was not easy to provoke with such jokes. However, his mannerism exposed his annoyance a little too much. 

━ You know ━ the colonel continued pushing Simon’s buttons, checking his boundaries. Especially those regarding his girlfriend ━ you should be more careful with spreading such vulnerable pictures like the one you sent me yesterday. 

━ Thought I made it clear she’s off your limits, no? 

The tone of Ghost’s voice was firm and almost menacing, when he reloaded the handgun and put it into the holster. 

━  Nicht wirklich [ger.: Not really] ━ König set aside prepared rifle and leaned over his own thighs, one forearm resting upon his lap. ━ Besides, isn’t your little union… ━ he paused, searching for a descriptive word, circling his wrist in the air ━ prohibited? It would be a pity to destroy a career in the army, ja? 

━ Are you threatening us? 

━ Do you feel threatened?

Ghost turned around to face the cocky bastard, now standing to his full height. Even then, the man with a skull mask kept his emotions in check. He knew better.

━ No.

━ Then it’s clear. ━ The colonel of KorTac said in a calm manner, grabbing the rifle, before slowly heading towards the armory’s exit. He didn’t turn around, not once. ━ I’m actually looking for more of those pictures. 

With a steady pace König left the room, leaving the lieutenant behind. Alone this time. 

The sound of clamped gloves could be heard, man’s veins on his palm popped out. Ghost gritted his teeth silently, trying to ignore that bloody moron. Lieutenant knew perfectly well that you were his. Only Simon could touch you, kiss you, protect you. But something about the Austrian man not giving up made him annoyed. 

Especially because he was just fucking around with Simon, pushing him, testing his limits, joking about his girl. 

It was you. You were Ghost’s weak point and König abused that recognition. 

The knowledge that if the mission went smoothly, the Task Force would pack up and move was reassuring. So therefore Ghost would do everything in his power to make it happen. He wanted to leave Austria as soon as possible. 

Not so long after the encounter in the magazine, the two cooperative groups were loading into the off-road, military cars resembling a van. They were really spacious. 

When Ghost left the building of KorTac base and his eyes got used to the sunlight, he managed to locate you near one of the vans alongside… well, Colonel König. You were casually talking with him. 

Gaz couldn’t go with you this time, even though he insisted he would be fine, he just got a little burnt here and there, that’s all. But Captain Price wasn’t having it and gave Kyle Garrick an order to stay in the hospital wing for that day. 

You didn’t like the sight of fresh wounds forming on Gaz’s skin – burns were quite serious injuries, even blisters popping out. Perhaps the scars were not life threatening and won’t stay forever, but he had to give it a rest. He would heal eventually. 

The lieutenant would rather have Gaz or Soap jumping around you than this stubborn Austrian man, who happened to behave or think… quite indecent. 

Simon Riley knew how some men are and it wasn’t really hard to deduce what kind of man König was. If he only got the chance, he would lay his sticky hands all over you. Ghost couldn’t let it happen. 

By the time the man with the skull mask approached the vehicle, you were already sitting on the bench next to him. God, why were you so casual about the colonel? The Britishman’s blood was on the edge of boiling.

“Fuckin’ hell”, he thought to himself. 

━ How’s your leg, sir? ━ You asked, continuing a chit chat. All of the memories of last night’s ambush came back, your body shuffling in one place, trying to adjust in a tight space of the van. 

━ Wunderbar [ger.: Wonderful]. Such skillful hands make wonders, Y/C. 

The Austrian man was towering over you even in the sitting position. He was indeed a giant. König’s legs were far too close to yours, trying to to rub against Riley’s girlfriend. 

That motherfucker was bold. 

With a loud thud of his steps Ghost got in the van and walked all the way to the talking duet. He forced his way between the colonel and his teammate. Ghost sat letting out a loud sigh.

━ Thought you’re stayin’ with Gaz. ━ The grumpy lieutenant said, his dark eyes looking directly at you, completely ignoring the presence of a man on his right. 

At this time, Simon felt an urge to place his gloved hand over your thigh – to feel your flesh, your heat, just that you’re real and his. A simple act of tenderness that he had to suppress. For now. 

━ Negative. Captain’s orders.

You explained to Ghost that you were not supposed to go into the battlefield that day. Well, not directly at least. Every pair of medic hands would be useful after the mission has ended. The KorTac and Task Force had a stronghold to conquer. It was a tough one. 

Tougher than they estimated at the very beginning. 

And even though some would feel anxious with taking their loved ones to such dangerous places, Ghost knew you could handle it. You were a tough woman after all, not some fragile porcelain doll. 

━ How copy?

One of his colleagues’ voices resounded from the radio on his broad shoulder.

━ Almost there. 

König moved swiftly, yet quietly along the staircase leading to the rooftop. He heard clearly the sounds of machine guns and the yelping of dying soldiers nearby. The colonel moved smoothly in the darkness of the night, his black hood blending within the surroundings. 

He was so intoxicated with the smell of gore, he didn’t even feel the pulsating pain, radiating from his freshly sewed wound. A little reminder of someone. 

When he leaned over the corner of the hallway, he managed to take down three of the enemy's troopers, putting holes in their vulnerable necks, blood splashing around. König acted fast and effectively. 

The Austrian man finally reached the rooftop and noticed the laid out sniper’s rifle and a bloodied corpse near the station. It looked like someone took the previous sniper by surprise and ended his miserable life.  

Man with a covered face clicked with his tongue, disappointed. König made sure the area was safe for him to take the position, checking the other rooftops. He set aside his own rifle and laid down on the gravel ground. 

━ In a position. Any other problems? ━ The colonel checked in the radio channel, waiting for the soldier’s confirmation. 

━ No, sir. 

━ Gut [ger.: Good]. Over and out. 

König crawled closer over the rough texture beneath him and positioned himself near the rifle’s scope (and the still warm corpse). He had a perfect observing spot for the whole accommodation. 

Turning the weapon gently he took a look over the main building’s third floor – he saw KorTac soldiers making their way to the ground floor after checking for the potential hiding spots of their enemy.

All of the shootings were dying out. 

Then, moving to the smaller structure nearby, König noticed Captain Price securing the target in one of the rooms. Few seconds later an announcement echoed in his earpiece, breaking the short lasting silence.

━ This is Bravo 0-6, target secured. I repeat, target secured. 

━ Kinderspiel [ger.: Piece of cake]. ━ Colonel smirked under his hood.

He decided to stay at the sniper’s position for a little longer, making sure that the area was safe to move around with a captured target. König moved the rifle’s scope towards the courtyard in the middle of the buildings. For a moment he couldn’t believe he was so lucky. 

There he was – a ghost surrounded by the enemy, cornered at the square. All alone.

König pointed the cross to the man’s chest. If only the Austrian soldier pulled the trigger on the sniper rifle, he would eliminate the obstacle standing between him and his latest obsession. 

But was he actually capable of doing it? 

The thought alone of you crying in König’s arms, mourning your lover, sent shivers down his spine. His heart skipped a beat and his blood ran cold. Could he really make you suffer this much? At the end of the day, he was a heartless executioner. 

The colonel inhaled through his teeth, trying not to move in the slightest and cleared his head. He pointed the rifle at his current target and held his breath in. 

Steady. 

In a matter of seconds, everything went so silent, he was able to hear the owl in the nearest forest. 

Until there was a gunshot, scaring the birds away from the tree crowns. König pulled the trigger. And then another time.

The hired mercenary incoming from Ghost’s left collapsed onto the tile floor with a thud. 

The colonel shifted the aim and hit the other two men coming out from the building, securing a lieutenant of TF 141. He observed through the little glass piece, how Ghost stabbed his opponent with a knife and then swiftly turned around to throw another one to the enemy guard.

When the area was cleansed, König swore that for a brief moment Ghost soul-consuming eyes were locked on him. Or at the sniper position at least.

He knew.

Needless to say, the man with a black hood liked to poke the bear with a stick, curiously waiting to find out – what would the bear do. Because at the end of the day, there was no one that could defeat the king. 

Was he a depraved, rotten to the bone’s marrow person? No, natürlich [ger.: naturally]. A little twisted, but not a psychopath. Therefore he could not damage nor terminate the lieutenant from Great Britain. As far as his weird fascination with you went, he would not want to make you suffer by murdering your lover, ja?

When all of the enemies were gone (one way or another – by greeting the reaper or running away) the team gathered in the meeting point, a few klicks away from the fortress they just stormed. A couple of helos landed on the forest grounds.

From one of which you walked out.

━ Everyone in one piece? ━ You jokingly said, acknowledging most of the team being unharmed. 

━ Apart from the Austrian bastards bitin’ the dust, we’re more than good. ━ Price told you, placing one of him palms over your shoulder. Only then he noticed the presence of KorTac colonel and apologized quickly. ━ No offense.

━ None taken, Captain. What is important is that we’ve a target in custody. Gute arbeit. 

König slowly moved past the three Task Force operators and went inside of the helicopter. Side by side with other KorTac soldiers. One in particular patted the colonel's back. The operator had a patch with callsign “Horangi”. 

They seemed to be good friends. 

━ The fuck he just said? ━ Ghost seemed to be a bit offended that he didn’t understand what König said in his native language. 

━ Good job. ━ You explained, eyes following the gigantic man who taught you this phrase. 

The voyages by helos were definitely not your favorite. Sudden changes of pressure, turbulence and the dim lighting – it all made you so sleepy. Normally, if the flight was less crowded, you’d lay your head on Ghost’s shoulder and let yourself slightly drift off. 

Hilariously not professional of you, but hey – since childhood you were able to fall asleep almost everywhere: in a bus, standing, half sitting, on bloody weddings even. And then, when woken up, you immediately came back “to the living”. 

Thank God the flight back to the base wasn’t long and you didn’t take a nap in front of so many professionals.

Although not many soldiers needed medical attention, you went straight to the infirmary, while rolling the sleeves of your shirt up. Most of them needed to get their scratches cleaned. A piece of cake, right?

Well, not so easy nor calming with hyped up Gaz talking all the time behind your shoulder, playfully asking about the operation. The pain relieving medication was still in his bloodstream, providing him with too much energy. Really, he should have been asleep by now.

“Gosh, did they inject him with dosage for a horse?”, you wondered. 

Normally, you liked him talking. You were a good listener and Kyle could talk to you for hours as you sat there in silence, taking every story he came up with. 

But sometimes, after the long lasting missions you needed to clear your head. To ease the constantly running thoughts and just… calm down. And today was that day. You needed silence, but didn’t have enough resolution to tell your teammate to politely shut up. 

So he kept bothering you, while you took care of the soldiers.

Captain was on a call with Laswell and Shepherd, meanwhile Ghost put the captured target in confinement. At least until the Golden Eagle decides what to do next with the man responsible for the latest terrorism in Austria. 

Task Force 141 job was done, all that was left were formalities. 

When you finally left the infirmary’s cleaned station and said your goodnights with Gaz, you returned to the room you and Ghost were sleeping in. Well, technically it was his room, but no one dared to check if the lieutenant was sleeping there alone. 

It was still better than sleeping in barracks. 

You weren’t surprised when you found the dormitory empty with no trace of your boyfriend there. He had to be busy. The vision of a warm shower was tempting, especially that probably most if not all of the other operatives were sleeping soundly by now. 

You left everything that wasn’t necessary in “the dorm” and headed through the narrow hallways, your mind already imagining the streams of clear water running down your skin. 

But the lit lamp in the common room on your right caught your attention. There shouldn’t be anyone there by this time.

You took a curious look through the door frame and saw the bulky man hunched over the paper splayed on the table.

━ Simon? What are you doing? ━ A simple question left your mouth as you entered the small room and left the doors slightly opened. Not on purpose, of course. It was a habit. A bad one. 

━ Price dozed off after the call. Someone has to fill those papers. Fuckin’ ol’ man. 

Ghost smirked under his balaclava and solid mask, when he stood up from the chair and moved towards his girlfriend. The two of you met halfway. 

━ And he can’t do this in the morning?

━ We’re leavin’ by then ━ he stepped closer, his figure towering over you. By now, the lieutenant has taken off his gear too. When he placed his palms on your hips, a quiet laugh slipped through your lips. ━ What’s so funny? 

━ You’re kind of old too.

━ Yeah? You think so? ━ Ghost teased you softly, before rapidly grabbing a firm hold onto your thighs, his bare hand squeezing the flesh just under your ass. Only a thin layer of clothes separated his coarse digits and your smooth skin. 

With a quick lift, he hoisted you over his hips and came closer to the wall behind you. When your body was squeezed between your lieutenant and the wall, you caressed Ghost’s biceps and shoulders, soothing his muscles after a long day. 

━ You think an ol’ man can do this? 

He asked you, before burying his now exposed jaw into your neck, placing light kisses. Ghost’s movements followed the tendon up, licking a stripe with his warm tongue from time to time. 

━ Fuck, Simon… ━ You practically whimpered, when he latched onto sweet spot on your neck. ━ Not here.

━ We’re alone, they’re all sleepin’, luv ━ Simon tried to reassure you, starting to work on undoing your zipper and button. ━ Come on, you’re so fuckin’ tensed. 

He let you slide down the wall to stand by your own strength, it was easier to slip your trousers down this way. 

That night you let him do all the work. Not like you had much to do, he was just faster than you. Eager, longing for intimacy. 

Ghost slid down the hem of your trousers and underwear down, just a little and lifted you up by the wall again. But this time, you could clearly feel his hardening member underneath your own crotch.

Your cheeks were flustered and heart pounding fast. The closeness with Simon Riley made you excited every time you were this exposed to each other.   

His hand sneaked down to release himself from his confinements, brown eyes kept on you and your beautiful features. Always. 

Ghost’s left hand was grippind the plush of your thigh firmly, almost like he was holding onto his own dear life. Meanwhile, while Simon was unbuckling his belt and cargo pants, you snuck the hand under the black balaclava and brushed through his blonde hair. The tough man groaned into your face. He fucking loved when you played with his hair.

And vice versa. 

You smacked your lips against his scarred ones, moments before he finally pushed himself into you, causing his precious girlfriend to moan straight into his mouth. 

A sudden wave of heat overflowed your muscles, making you almost limp in his hold. Your arms entangled around his shoulders, when he kept rocking you upwards. 

Ghost held you firmly by your thighs wrapped around his waist, bucking his hips into you in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t rushing anywhere, the lieutenant had a fucking eternity if needed to spend with you. 

The pleasant feeling of your body around him and the sound of your voice was all he needed after such an intense mission. It was the best type of treatment for his wounds – the physical and emotional ones. He knew this from the experience. 

You were his remedy. The cure.

━ Oh, Simon ━ you sweetly muttered, resting your burning hot cheek against his broad shoulder. ━ Like this. Please.

How could he deny this pretty request? 

Ghost kept lulling you into the dreamy state, bouncing you on his length. When you managed to keep your eyes open, you remembered the slight gap you left between the doors and its frame. 

It didn’t matter at the time, as you were keeping it fairly quiet. Only soft whimpers and a few guttural moans from time to time left the lovers’ lips.

━ There you go ━ Simon whispered next to your ear in a praising manner ━ all better, yeah? 

He was right and you nodded with your head, rubbing against Simon’s clothes. You finally managed to relax.

And when your glossy eyes opened again, facing those opened doors, you saw the colonel peeping at the two of you. His black hood with bleached stripes were distinct in the lighting of the room. 

He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky about it. The Austrian man was halfway standing in the common room and devouring the show you two put for him. Only his growing bulge made him uncomfortable with his own pants. 

König’s gaze drilled into your vulnerable form and all strength you had left, was to stare at him in this dreamy fucked out state, your boyfriend put you in. 

Your body was held by Ghost against a wall, securely. Limbs going numb from pleasure, tears of joy gathering in the corners of your eyes, under the fluttering eyelashes. 

And all you could do was just clinging to Simon’s strong arm.

You considered a version of events, where all of this was only a hallucination. That the colonel wasn’t really there, standing in the doorframe. God, at least he wasn’t doing anything indecent. 

But if this was all true, if König was watching you two fuck, it was the most beautiful day in his pathetic life.

TAG LIST: (apologies if I missed someone) @nijiru @squidsal @thefightingdragon @emily-roberts @btszn @ladymacbeth1987 @kingjulian0o9 @leonasbunny @bladedriot yamishibai09 crystlizabeth breezum malninen i-feel-violated strawberryscals maladaptivedaydreamingbum kmcmpmd thefightingdragon cumbermovels am-just-a-simp bbq-titties cheezitwh0re

[stoertebeker]

Me 🤝 German women in their 50s

having a weird fixation on Herbert Grönemeyer

Did Herbert Grönemeyer know what he'd do for nonbinary Das Boot fans when he wrote his hit song »Männer« in 1984

[honey-riley]

Love You To Death || S.R. || 6 || Sparks

WARNINGS: drunk smut

wc: 2.0k

A/N: Hi guys :)) sorry for the late update as always. Life has just been rough recently, and I moved, and I've been all over the place. Thank you for your patience! I was stoned when I wrote this, so if there are any mistakes, let me know lmao.

5 || 6 || 7

Distancing himself was a little rough, but he eventually settled. Christmas was coming up within the next two weeks, so that meant that the Hamburg Christmas Markets were opened up around the city, so Simon took Honey out to go walk around. She needed to get out of the house, and he wanted to take care of her. Make sure that she was okay. He stood next to her with his black surgical mask on, a black Carhartt jacket, and a simple pair of blue jeans. Honey looked so tiny compared to him, only coming up to about his pecs. She was wearing a pair of black leggings, a white turtleneck, a green corduroy jacket that matched her emerald eyes, as well as a pair of Doc Martins. Honey’s hair was thrown into a messy bun on the back of her head, with a few face-framing pieces out.

His hands itched with the need to wrap his arm around her shoulder or hold her hand, but he held himself back. She had boundaries; he would respect them. They walked in silence, taking in the sights, sounds, and scents of Hamburg. He glanced down at her, making sure that she was okay before scanning the area. When he looked back down at her, she was gone. He immediately stopped in his tracks. “Honey?” He said, glancing around, looking for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Honey?” He repeated a little louder, his breath catching in his throat as he looked around for her. His palms started to itch and sweat, his eyes racing as he searched the crowd for her. She shouldn’t be so hard to find, but she was so damn short that she was impossible to see over everyone else.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He murmured as he finally spotted her. She was talking with a few other people, so he came up behind her. “Honey.” He said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Wer ist das? (Who is that?)" One of the women she was talking to asked. "Das ist Simon. Er ist mein Leutnant. (That’s Simon. He’s my Lieutenant)" Honey said softly, looking back at him. “Scared me to death, Hon. Need to tell me next time, preferably before you leave.” Simon grumbled, squeezing her shoulder before letting his hand drop to his side. “Hello.” One of the younger girls said softly, she was around 9 years old. Simon gave her a small smile and a nod, his eyes crinkling in the corners. 

“You speak English?” Simon said softly. “A lot of younger kids do. They teach it here.” Honey smiled, looking up at him. 

“Learn somethin’ new every day, eh?” Simon said under his breath. "Na gut, wir gehen jetzt besser. Es war schön, euch drei zu sehen. (Alright, we better get going. It was nice seeing you three.)" Honey smiled, giving them a wave before leaving with Simon. They finished up their Christmas shopping, and by the end of the night, they were both hammered. They were in the back of a taxi. Simon was starting to get touchy, and Honey wasn’t fighting it. She glanced down at the hand that rested on her thigh, a lopsided smile finding her face. Once they got back to Honey’s home, Simon picked her up from under her armpits, pinning her to the wall. Their lips smashed together, her hands threaded into his hair. He had dropped his mask somewhere on the porch or in the hallway—either way, he didn’t care. His hands moved from her armpits to her ass, cupping it as their tongues danced. “Mmm.” She hummed against his lips, making him let out a deep growl in response. Taking her off of the wall, he brought her into her bedroom, laying her on her bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist, making him chuckle against her lips. “Needy little bunny, hm?” He murmured, stepping back to take his jacket off. He gently took Honey’s Doc Martins off, kneeling down to take her socks off as well. He pressed a soft kiss to the arch of her foot, making her squirm. “Tickles.” She giggled, making him gain a lopsided grin. She looked down at him, admiring his face. This was really only one of the few times that she had seen his full face. But right now, he was more handsome than ever. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or the fact that he was worshiping her, but it was something. His hands slowly slid up her body, till they reached the waistband of her leggings. He slowly slid them down, taking her thong with him. 

“Such a pretty bunny.” He mumbled against her ankle as he began kissing his way up. Honey’s back arched in anticipation, her thighs quivering as he got closer to her sweet cunt. But, just before he got there, he skipped over it, making her let out a disappointed groan. He kissed her hips, his hand moving to take her jacket off. She let it slip from under her, and his hands went under her turtleneck to unclasp her bra. 

"Fick mich doch. (Fuck me already.)" She whined, making him chuckle. He shook his head, taking her turtleneck and her bra off. “Patience.” He murmured, licking a stripe from her navel up to between her breasts. He blew cold air on the line, making her shiver. He grabbed a handful of one of her tits, looking up at her. “Evil.” She murmured, her eyes closing.

He smiled, his tongue flicking against her nipple. Goosebumps raised on her skin, her hands finding his hair. His mouth locked around her nipple, sucking and nipping at it. “Simon.” She moaned softly, making him grin. His cock ached at the sound of her moaning his name. This was the moment he had been dreaming about. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” 

“Fuck me, please. I can’t take it. Do something.” She begged, her body writhing as she ached with need. He decided that since they were drunk and twice as sensitive, she couldn’t handle being teased. So, he finally gave in, dipping his head between her legs. 

He licked a stripe up her slit, letting out a groan at her taste. 

“Fuckin’ hell, bunny. Taste so good.” He murmured, going in for more. Honey moaned, her brow furrowing as her hips rolled against his tongue. He sucked her clit into his mouth, closing his eyes as he savored her taste. 

“Can’t wait to have this pretty pussy wrapped around me.” He murmured to himself, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine as he thought about it. 

“Please, Simon.” She begged. 

“Nuh-uh. I’d be a bloody fool to not make you cum on my tongue first.” He growled, gripping her thighs. He pulled her closer, pressing her knees to her chest. "Ja! Oh mein Gott. (Yes! Oh my god.)" Honey whimpered, her back arching. His sharp, brown eyes looked up at her, his pupils blown wide. His hands gripped at her thighs, just behind her knees. His tongue swirled around her clit, and he shook his head a few times, making her gasp. “Yeah? You like that, huh, bunny?” He grinned, doing it again. She let out a sob, her eyes rolling back for a moment. “Simon. Oh god. Going to make me cum.” She gasped, her German accent growing thicker. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her thigh. 

“Oh yeah? Gonna cum for me, huh?” He smiled, licking a long stripe from her entrance to her clit before shaking his head again. 

Honey’s toes curled, her eyes rolled back, and she let out the cutest little whimper in the world. He continued shaking his head, his hands gripping her thighs tightly. Once her body relaxed, he slowly pulled away, moving up her body with a big grin. They were both still so incredibly drunk. 

Honey panted hard, her arms wrapping around his neck, trying to catch her breath. “Deep breath, Hon.” He whispered, gently rubbing her shoulders. She took a few deep breaths, and they eventually steadied. “Are you ready?” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She nodded, looking up at him. “Words, bunny.” He added, running a hand through her hair. “Ready.” She said softly. He kissed her on the cheek one more time, before putting a little bit of lube on the tip of his cock. He spread it out evenly before slowly sliding in. Honey’s eyes went wide, her jaw dropping, and he stopped. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered. 

“F-Fuck.” She whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders. He stayed there, not moving, letting her adjust. It was uncomfortable; he was pretty big and girthy as well. She wasn’t expecting him to be that thick. He pressed gentle kisses to her collarbone while he waited, trying to get her to relax. “Good girl, Honey.” He mumbled against her skin, moving to press his forehead against his. He watched her eyes as he slowly pressed in more, his hands resting under her shoulders, holding onto her. "Dein Schwanz ist so groß. Oh mein Gott. ("Your cock is so big. Oh my God.)" Honey whined, looking up at him. “I know, baby. I’ll be gentle.” He whispered, gently rubbing her shoulders. One of his hands moved down to sit behind her knee, on her thigh, pressing it up to her chest again. He started moving slowly, making her soft moans fill the otherwise silent air. “Take it, bunny. Let me in.” He muttered, starting to gain speed. Honey’s eyes were wide as she held onto him, letting out desperate whimpers and moans. He sat back on his knees, moving her other leg to the same position, allowing him deeper. “O-Oh fuck.” She gasped, looking up at him. He let out a soft moan, his jaw falling slack. “Such a good bunny. Holy fuck.” He groaned, letting his head fall back. “So tight f’me, so wet. Oh god.” He growled, closing his eyes for a moment. He couldn’t help but speed up, making Honey’s moans tumble out of her mouth. “Ah, Simon!” She moaned, her eyes heavy with pleasure. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire, but in the best way possible. Her eyes rolled back slightly, her mouth hanging wide open. “Fuuuuuck.” She whined, her toes curling as her body started to get worked up. “C’mon, bunny. Keep goin’, you can take it.” Simon mumbled, fucking her harder. Honey’s head fell back, her back arching slightly. “God, fuck- Oh shit.” Simon gasped at the change of angle. His grip on her thighs tightened, sure to leave bruises of his fingertips. He moved her ankles so that they were resting on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around her legs.

She was so tiny that her ankles barely reached his shoulders, but at this point, he didn’t care. All he could think about was this tight, wet cunt that he had the pleasure of fucking. And though he was drunk, he was going to do it right.  One of his hands moved down to her belly, pressing just below her belly button. Her body immediately curled in on itself, her eyes shooting wide open.

“FUCK!” She sobbed loudly, her thighs clenching.

“C’mon, bunny. Cum f’me. Cum all over this cock.” Simon growled, making sure not to change a single thing for her. He felt her walls tightly squeeze his cock and watched as her eyes rolled back, watching as her hands gripped the sheets. Simon let out a groan, his own eyes rolling back as he gave her one more incredibly deep thrust, filling her full of his sticky cum.

He stayed in her for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath before pulling out. Once he was done, he laid on his back, pulling Honey onto his chest. His hand gently rubbed her back, and he pressed a gentle kiss against the top of her head.

“Did such a good job, luv. You’re so gorgeous.” He murmured softly, gently rubbing her shoulders. Her eyes were heavy, and her breathing was falling into a steady rhythm. Soon enough, her eyes gently shut, unable to bear the weight of exhaustion anymore. And he followed soon after.

[usafphantom2]

27 November 1940. Messerschmitt Bf109E '4101, Black 12’, of Leutnant Wolfgang Teumer from 2/JG51 attacked by Spitfire of 66 Squadron’s Flt Lt George P Christie DFC over the Thames Estuary, damaging the radiator and radio. It belly-landed at Manston.

@ron_eisele via X

[pinturas-sgm-aviacion]

1942 02 21 The Long Shot - Roy Grinnell

Tomahawk Mk.IIa "GA-X"(AK658) 112 Sqn, RAF.

F/L Clive "Killer" Caldwell

repost better size and corrected color. I hesitated for a long time, because it's a sunset scene, but I am convinced the reddish hue was just the camera red glare and this how it should look

about the pilot and some of his fights:

While flying to his base alone, over northwest Egypt on 29 August 1941, Caldwell was attacked by two Bf 109s, in a simultaneous approach at right angles. His attackers included one of Germany's most famous aces, Leutnant Werner Schröer, also of JG 27, in a Bf 109E-7. Caldwell sustained three separate wounds from ammunition fragments and or shrapnel. His Tomahawk was hit by more than 100 7.92 mm bullets and five 20 mm cannon shells, but he shot down Schröer's wingman, and heavily damaged Schröer's "Black 8", causing Schröer to disengage

(...)

about his nickname:

In 4 July 1941, Caldwell saw a German pilot shoot and kill a close friend, Pilot Officer Donald Munro, who was descending to the ground in a parachute. This was a controversial practice, but was nevertheless common among German and Allied pilots. One biographer, Kristin Alexander, suggests that it may have caused Caldwell's attitude to harden significantly. Months later,(...) journalists popularised Caldwell's nickname of "Killer", which he disliked. One reason for the nickname was that he too shot enemy airmen after they parachuted out of aircraft. Caldwell commented many years later: "... there was no blood lust or anything about it like that. It was just a matter of not wanting them back to have another go at us. I never shot any who landed where they could be taken prisoner. (...) A more commonly cited reason for the nickname was his habit of using up ammunition left over at the end of sorties, to shoot up enemy troop convoys and vehicles. During his war service, Caldwell wrote in a notebook: "it's your life or theirs. This is war."

(...)

about the action depicted in the painting:

Caldwell scored another striking victory in February 1942, while leading a formation of 11 Kittyhawks from 112 Sqn and 3 Sqn. Over Gazala, he sighted a schwarm of Bf 109Fs flying some 2,000 ft higher. Caldwell immediately nosed into a shallow dive, applied maximum power and boost, then pulled his Kittyhawk up into a vertical climb. With his P-40 "hanging from its propeller," he fired a burst at a Bf 109 flown by Leutnant Hans-Arnold Stahlschmidt of I./JG 27, who was lagging behind the others. Stahlschmidt's fighter "shuddered like a carpet being whacked with a beater" before spinning out of control. Although the Kittyhawk pilots thought that the Bf 109 had crashed inside Allied lines, Stahlschmidt was able to crash-land in friendly territory.

(...)

Caldwell claimed 22 victories while in North Africa flying P-40s, including ten Bf 109s and two Macchi C.202s.

He had flown some 550 hours in over 300 operational sorties.

Note: In addition to his fight with Schröer, Caldwell also fought and shot down three German aces:

-Wolfgang Lippert, Erbo Graf von Kageneck and Hans-Arnold Stahlschmidt

[captain-price-unofficially]

Fallschirmjäger Leutnant Lepkowski with his men during the fighting in Kirovograd, January 1944.

[welldonekhushi]

Call of Duty OC: Katya Kovalevskaya 🌹

An updated bio sheet of Katya! The last one felt like it was straight Wiki format style, but doesn't really explain her character properly, I also added some changes to her character as well so, here you go! <3

GENERAL:

Name: Katya

Full name: Yekaterina Viktornovna Kovalevskaya

Codename: "Katyusha"

Alias(es): Lady of Death (by the Red Army), Mama Katya (by her soldiers), Der Russische Leutnant (by the Germans)

Age: 32 years old (Call of Duty: World at War), 58 years old (Call of Duty: Black Ops), 70 years old (Black Ops: Cold War)

Gender: Female

Nationality: Russian

Languages spoken: Russian, German (for intelligence purposes), English

Date of birth: June 15, 1916

Place of Birth: Ural Mountains, Imperial Russia

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Martial Status: Single

Occupation: Senior Lieutenant and Sniper of the Red Army (retires after the events of the first Black Ops)

Status: Active

Rank: Senior Lieutenant (1942), Lieutenant Colonel (1945)

Affiliation: Red Army, CIA (briefly)

Universe: Call of Duty: World at War, Call of Duty: Black Ops, Black Ops: Cold War (alternative AU)

Faceclaim: Anna Chipovskaya

Song: "Katyusha" by Boris Alexandrov

Biography: Yekaterina, commonly known as Katya joins the Red Army for the service of the Soviet Union to avenge her parents death under the hands of German forces. While defending her country amidst the raging Second World War, she faces tremendous amounts of obstacles and barriers in her life which often try to make them as her weakness, but the woman was sworn to take her last breath in achieving one goal with her comrades — and that was liberating Berlin.

AFFILIATIONS:

3rd Shock Army (Red Army)

Sergeant Viktor Reznov [K.I.A]

Private Dimitri Petrenko [K.I.A]

Private Chernov [K.I.A]

Commissar Markhov [fate unknown]

Major General Nikita Dragovich [K.I.A]

Colonel Lev Kravchenko [fate unknown]

CIA (Call of Duty: Black Ops)

Alex Mason

Frank Woods

Jason Hudson

Grigori Weaver

SKILLS AND ABILITIES:

Weapon induced: Scoped Mosin-Nagant, Tokarev (TT-33), PPSh-41, Molotov Cocktail, RGD-33

Fighting style: Hand-to-hand combat, but rarely, since she's more used to being a sniper giving covering fire

Special skills: Is a very experienced sniper, that gave her the infamous name of "Lady of Death", but Katya didn't want to coin such a name for herself when she was only serving her people as a soldier of the frontlines.

Talents: Knows natural remedies, holds a lot of empathy for others, can speak fluent German even if she knows a little bit of it

Shortcomings: Due to the incident, she lost her face partially along with the half-vision of her eye throughout the accident, faces survivors guilt, is a bit mentally depressed but she's able to push those negative thoughts down

PERSONALITY:

Myers-Briggs Type: ISFJ (The Defender)

Is very protective towards her comrades: Ever since she lost her parents, Katya had always been searching for a way to cope up with her loss by taking care of the people she loves and believes in the most. Even if she never married, or birthed a child, she automatically unlocked her motherly instincts by calling her comrades as her "sons and daughters", considering them as her one, found family.

Ruthless, but at times merciful: Katya has shown immense strength and courage in the battlefield as a sniper and a squad leader, haunting the Germans in their own sleep thinking Katya wouldn't kill them and make the mattress they're sleeping on as their deathbed. But also, when Katya wants to show mercy, she'll show it. She thinks there's no use to wasting her own bullets on someone who already decided to surrender to the Red Army.

Emotional: Let it be a soldier dying, or a civilian, she'll ask forgiveness from God that she wasn't able to save an innocent despite having the duty to protect her own people. The incident that killed all of her soldiers left her deeply scarred, and believed she committed a bigger sin for being too naive and careless, and she deserved the impact on her face. It was even worse when Nikita Dragovich killed her teammates again by putting them as test subjects for the Nova 6 experiment that made her grow deranged and bloodthirsty to hunt Dragovich and his lapdog, Kravchenko in a fit of vengeance, until the CIA caught her presence.

Intelligent and observant: Katya is more aware of her surroundings ever since the incident impacted her, which caused her to be very vigilant, and grew her intelligence in the battlefield which made her useful for the Red Army as a sniper and as a squad leader in the infantry.

BACKGROUND STORY

Katya was born around 1916 with her mother Elizaveta Kovalevskaya (neé Petrova) and father, Viktor Kovalevsky. Spending her childhood in the Ural Mountains, she learnt how to snipe at a young age from her father, who was a hunter, the reason why she took her father's skill in the field of sniping.

In 1939, she recruited herself in the Red Army as a sniper, in which her talent gave a huge role and reputation among the soldiers as a source of bravery, courage and inspiration, that gave her the name "Lady of Death". But, Katya on the other hand didn't want to coin such a name for herself when she believes she's only doing it for the protection of her own people.

But, in 1941, when Germany attacked Soviet Russia under "Operation Barbarossa", her village became a victim of the attacks, which ended up killing her family in the process. Broken and enraged, Katya wanted to avenge her parents death by going through missions and eliminating every single enemy who tried to cross the Soviet borders. Her life completely changed when one day she encountered General Heinrich Amsel, who was responsible for the death of her family along with many others, wanted to kill him by her own hands but never succeeded because he evaded before she could get to him.

Furious, the General wanted to eliminate Katya in her path, by luring her into a trap that he was staying at a hotel and could grab her an opportunity to end his life there. But little to her knowledge, it was all a set up, when he used that entire building as a decoy with the explosives attached. His soldiers locked away his teammates, including Katya but she was able to break through it. In a desperate attempt to find her comrades who were still locked inside, it was too late before the explosion could take effect, and blew her out of the building, leaving her drastically injured.

The explosion was the turning point of her life, where it emotionally scarred her and made her regret being a soldier, when she couldn't even protect her own soldiers, who basked into the flames of Amsel's planned explosion. She was taken for medical assistance, which took her a month to recover physically, and mentally. But, that didn't stop Katya from retiring, as her mind still revolved around that one goal — to eliminate General Amsel, and push all the German forces back from invading Russia.

Somewhere around 1942, she was promoted to Senior Lieutenant, and became the squad leader for the 3rd Shock Army, and participated in the Battle of Stalingrad alongside Pvt. Dimitri Petrenko and Sgt. Viktor Reznov. As the General's whereabouts were found, she led her team throughout the warzone and successfully countered Amsel, which led to his untimely death under the hands of Dimitri's sniper rifle. Katya, who held immense pride for the Private for doing something she couldn't, made him along with Reznov and Chernov as her closest comrades.

After the entire battle, in 1945, they finally achieved victory by liberating Berlin by hoisting the Soviet flag on the Reichstag, Katya was now at peace, hoping for a better future after the war's end.

But, somehow.. her life was going to go into a bigger turmoil, when she gets sent to the mission around the Arctic Circle, leading the events of the first Black Ops.

[ragingbookdragon]

With Gentle Hands, And The Heart Of A Fighter, I'm A Survivor

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst (w/ Happy Ending!), Scars and Wounds

Author's Note: :D -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It’s been two weeks since she got back to base on her solo mission, and she still hasn’t removed the mask. It’s driving the guys crazy. Never before had she ever worn any type of face covering and now, she’s all about it. And she’s quiet. Usually when she gets back from a mission, she’s like a new recruit who finished patrol on his own, embellishing his tale with guns and knives and threats. This time, she’s tight-lipped about the mission. Hasn’t said a word about what happened. It’s more worrying than the men of the 141 care to admit. Something’s wrong. Something’s happened.

They’ve decided to always keep an extra set of eyes on her, especially at a time like this. Soap and Ghost are overseeing the sparring recruits themselves, whereas she’s in with one. A tall, Austrian soldier from some mercenary group. König, his name is. He’s quick, assured in his skill, and moves like lightning. But they know, where there’s lightning, there’s thunder. And she’s right there, following up on him with every hit or block he gets with two of her own. It’s brutal, even Simon agrees, the two soldiers aren’t pulling their punches. They’re going at it like they’ve met on the battlefield and the stage has been set for one final duel. Man’s tall, bigger than most of the other guys on the base, and where he was reach and strength over her, she’s got flexibility and dexterity over him. He relies on his size to make his hits count, sheer intimidation at some points, she relies on her ability to get in his safe zones and gut him from within.

It's a flash of an arm that makes Soap and Ghost start, a curled knuckled palm to the side of her head that sends the glittering metal mask skittering across the floor, loosened from the impact. Even König freezes in shock, obviously it hadn’t been his intent. All the recruits are now watching and she looks up in shock at the Austrian, his own eyes widening when he sees it on her face; her hand shoots up and blocks the sight from all, sprinting and snatching the mask up as she flees the training room.

It's silent until Ghost barks an order and then the newbies are back to sparring and he and Soap march over to where the Austrian is starting to pace; he stops when he sees them, quickly apologizing, “Scheiße, Leutnant, ich wollte ihr nicht so hart treffen.”

“English.”

“I…I didn’t mean to hit her so hard,” he translates, eyes wide with apprehension. “It was an accident.”

There’s no time to be so upset.

“What did you see?” Ghost asks, his eyes are narrowed behind his mask, glaring up.

König stops his twitching and just takes a hand, making a gesture along where his cheek would be under the sniper mask he’s got on. “Es ist schlecht. Vernarbt.”

Somehow it translates and Soap and Ghost are off chasing her to a locked quarter door; they turn to each other, their own eyes wide in shock. “LT,” Soap starts. “I think we should get Price.”

So, they do.

And the man appears minutes later, brows furrowed as he knocks on the door. “LC?” he calls. “You in there?”

“Go away!” she yells, her voice, they know, is full of fear.

“Love, open the door, or we will.”

She doesn’t, and they do exactly as they said, peering into the darkened room. It’s Ghost who notices the mirror in her bathroom has been removed, the standalone floor length one in the corner has been turned around and covered with a towel.

She’s cowering in the corner, her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around her head and they kneel beside her; Price lays a hand on her arm. “LC, what’s going on?”

Her head shakes “no,” as she tries to pull from him. “I can’t tell you,” she whispers.

“You can,” he replies, managing to unfold her arms. “You know I’m not going to be angry.”

“It’s not anger I’m worried about.” Her voice is small as she looks up at him through her mask.

“Did something happen on the mission?”

He sees the way her eyes fill with tears, and she looks away, reaching to take the mask off. They see nothing as it falls, her hand is quickly replaced on her left side. “I got spotted,” she says, voice a hush so quiet they have to strain to hear her. “He…he chased me all the way back to my compound. I don’t know how he got the drop on me, but he did.”

“LC—”

“He had a serrated knife,” she adds, turning to face them, and finally lets her hand fall.

And…it’s not a pretty sight. Two jagged cuts line the left side of her face, one starts above her left brow and cuts down, stopping above her cheek. The other is more gnarly, starting just above her ear, it cuts down to the top of her lip. There’s a section of her upper lip, a small triangular section that’s been cut out, revealing the canine beneath. The stitching is rough and uneven, displaying she’d done it on her own—no doubt, she had been miles from the nearest medical center. And two weeks hasn’t healed them enough. They’re still red and angry, puffed from the irritation.

It's finally clear why the mask has been a constant.

Tears slip down her cheeks, lips forming words that won’t make the connection with her vocal cords. “Monster” they manage to hear torn from her and Ghost stands.

“Price, Soap,” he murmurs. “Let me handle this.”

The two men nod in approval and both grab her arms and hands, squeezing as hard as they can to let her know they’re there.

He locks the door behind them and goes to the corner, shifts the mirror back around before coming to get her. Ghost never does anything with grace, unless it’s killing, anything else is treated with ill-concern, and he certainly doesn’t believe in self-pity of any kind. He manhandles her, yanking her to her feet, ignoring her protests to leave her. Ghost plants her in front of the mirror and tugs the towel from it; her expression drops and she starts to look away, but he grabs her chin, forcing her to look at herself.

“You are not a monster,” he tells her. His voice is harsh, grating against the nerves, but it holds no lie. “Look at yourself.” It’s a command and she struggles to lift her eyes to the woman staring back at her. “Look.”

She does. At the jaggedness scarring her face, the tears in her eyes, the pain in her expression.

“This is not the face of a monster,” he says to her, staring into her eyes through the mirror, they never leave hers. “This is the face of a survivor.” She can’t even speak, lump in her throat too large to even swallow past. “The woman who fought and killed her attacker. Stitched her own wounds and made it back alive to tell the tale. She. Is. A. Survivor.”

“People will be scared of me,” she manages and he doesn’t waver.

“Let them. When have you ever given a fuck about a stranger’s opinion.”

“Simon, I can’t—”

“You can. You will.” He takes the mask from her hands and shows it to her. “This is a coward’s way out. You aren’t, and have never been a coward.”

“They’ll stare.”

“Let them,” he reiterates strongly. “When they do, when they make comments, you look back and you say, ‘I survived.’ That’s what you say back.” He accentuates his point by throwing the mask away.

Her head falls, tears dropping to the floor as her knees begin to give under her and he lowers her to the floor, pulling her against him. “I’m scared of her, Simon. I don’t recognize her.”

“She’s you,” he replies. “Still the prettiest poppy I’ve ever seen.” It’s like he didn’t even have to think about it, and he holds her tight. “My pretty poppy.”

Her breath is still catching in her throat as she lifts a hand and digs her hand underneath his mask to touch his cheek. “You still care?”

“I’d care even if you had no arms or legs. Just carry you around like a sack of potatoes. Or get you a wagon and pull you around in it.” She laughs, first time he’s heard it in two weeks, watery, a little pained, but still her. He pulls away to look into her eyes, taking her face in his hands. “You’re a survivor.”

She swallows thickly, nodding her head as he leans his forehead to hers. “I’m a survivor.”

He gazes at her, like he’s waiting to see something, and he does. He sees it so clearly because he’s pulling her up. “C’mon, there’s a giant about to pass out from anxiety. You’ve gotta go kick his ass again.”

“Simon, I don’t think I’m re—” she stops when he simply glowers at her and she swallows again, inhaling deeply once, twice, once more, then she squares her shoulders. “I’m a survivor,” she says firmly. “I’m a survivor and I’m not afraid of what people think about me.”

“Huzzah,” he mutters, and she knows it’s his way of cheering.

“I’m going to go out there and be a survivor.”

“Huzzah.”

“I can do this.”

“Huzzah.”

She stops and holds out her hand. “…Will you go with me?”

“Always,” he says and takes her hand. “It’s you and me, Poppy, against the world. You and me till the end.”

“Huzzah.”

[pinturas-gran-guerra-aire]

1918 07 Löwenhardt - Russell Smith

repost better quality and size

Löwenhardt features the legendary yellow Fokker DVII of Oberleutnant Erich Löwenhardt, Germany's 3rd ranking ace of WW1, behind only Manfred von Richthofen and Ernst Udet. Löwenhardt was an aggressive, skilled fighter whose score grew steadily. At the end of May 1918 he received Germany's highest honor, the Pour le Mérite (Blue Max) after 24 kills. Flying the new Fokker D.VII, he added eight more in June and no fewer than 16 in July. His tally climbed to 53 on August 9.After scoring his 54th victory, he collided with Leutnant Alfred Wenz of Jasta 11. Both men jumped from their planes but Löwenhardt was killed when his parachute failed to open and he fell to his death from 12,000 feet.

[bvnnywrites]

just read apple of my eye and goodness gracious, it's SO good! i'm practically shaking with excitement for the next chapter. i love the way reader is characterized and könig is so deliciously possessive? needy? delusional? i'm not sure how to put it into words. (also in the case of the female form for Leutnant it would be meine not mein. but i'm not quite sure if there is a female title for Leutnant in German!)

Hiyaaaa!!! Omo, I'm glad you and the others love it!!! Also thank you for telling me this info, I'll be sure to change it once I've posted chapter 2 ><

Okay okay König being a walking red flag is just so ughhhh❤️❤️❤️ LIKE SHIT GOT ME GIGGLING WHEN I TYPE IT I SWEAR AND HEHE I'M SO EXCITED TO SHOW YOU GUYS CHAPTER TWO BUT I HAVE TO TAKE A BREAK EVERY NOW AND THEN CAUSE I GET SO EXCITED FROM TYPING RAAAHHHHHHHHHH

[deutschland-im-krieg]

Five victory ace Leutnant August Delling of Jasta 34b in his Albatross D.V (4483/17), Spring 1918. Delling shot down his five aircraft in 10 weeks between April and June 1918. He died in 1967. Albatros seen with whitish-silver fuselage, red nose and red band, artist unknown to me. For more, see my Facebook group - Eagles Of The Reich

[the-clawtake]

Visiting Officers Quarters,

Camp Månsdottir, Alshain

FEBRUARY 16, 3061

It was fortunate, Jehan thought as he straightened up, that whoever was knocking on his door had not done so any early. He had just finished his physiotherapy exercises, and had the knock come before he had, he would have ignored it.

Instead, reaching for the water bottle he had set on the side table, he called “Enter” and took a deep draught. When there was no response, he walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, stepping back as it slid open. He recognized one of the two men standing in the hall.

Star Colonel Stephan Huntsig commanded the 50th Striker Cluster, who were part of the garrison of Alshain, and specifically that part of the garrison that was based out of Camp Mansdottir, and as such he had command of the base. He was clad in his dress uniform, which was unusual. The warriors assigned to Camp Mansdottir typically spent their time in fatigues or battle dress.

The man standing behind him was best described as “Average”. Average height, average build. Facial features that would once have been described as “caucasian”, but aggressively average for that. Brown hair cropped short. The sort of man no one would give a second glance. Even his clothing was, for a civilian, average. A suit, but one that appeared off the rack, rather than tailored.

“Star Captain Jehan. A moment of your time, please.” Jehan nodded, stepping back and gesturing them into the small sitting room.

“I beg surkai. You have arrived at the end of my therapy exercises. I have not had time to clean, or dress.” Jehan glanced down at his bare torso, the swollen red lines of healing scars along his ribs. Star Colonel Huntsig took it in stride, and the other man with him seemed to be trying to follow the Star Colonel’s example. He was less successful; Jehan could see how the man’s gaze kept drifting to the healing scars. He ignored it, and took another drink from his bottle.

“Please, sit. How may I be of assistance?” He gestured at the small couch against one wall, preferring to remain standing. Huntsig took a seat, the other man following suit a moment later. That worthy stole a glance at Huntsig, who intercepted it, and nodded.

“Allow me to make known to you Mister Kriesel, Star Captain Jehan. Mister Kriesel comes to us from the Lyran Commonwealth, with some rather disturbing news.”

Jehan turned his gaze to the Lyran, silently absorbing the information.

“Ah... Yes. Uh... It’s actually... Leutnant Kriesel.” Kriesel straightened slightly. Some of the diffidence went out of his posture. “Leutnant Gregor Kriesel, Lyran Intelligence Corps.” Jehan nodded, his lips tight. He had not had a lot of experience with the Lyrans, their territory falling into the Wolf and Jade Falcon invasion corridors, but several of the Warriors under his command had grown up in Rasalhague before Operation REVIVAL and none of them had had anything good to say about the Commonwealth.

“Welcome to Alshain, Leutnant. I am Star Captain Jehan MacKenzie.” He gave the narrowest of bows, then took another swig from his bottle. “The Star Colonel says you have concerning news?”

“Ah, yes... It is... embarassing. For my government. But it seems that one of our nobles, a...” Here, Gregor pauses, and pulls a small black notebook from his breast pocket. He flips through it for a moment, then closes and replaces it. “One Anton DeSimon. Has taken it into his head to create a... Menagerie. Of sorts.”

Jehan frowned. So far this seemed a waste of time, but Huntsig seemed to think it worth his time, so he waited for the intelligence man to continue.

“A, ah. Menagerie. Of Totem Animals? For the Clans.” Well. Thought Jehan. That was certainly something. And it would do relations between the Commonwealth and the Clans little good, if it became public knowledge, but he did not see how that was his concern. Or indeed, why the Lyran Intelligence Corps would be giving the information to the Dominion. He gave Gregor an encouraging wave.

“Yes. Well. For the most part, he has been making motions to acquire the animals through legitimate avenues. He has apparently found a Jade Falcon merchant willing to part with a pair of their namesakes, and his factor has been in negotiations through the Star League Enclave on Huntress. But we have some evidence that he has decided to take a... shortcut. When it comes to the acquisition of Ghost Bears.”

Jehan took a deep breath as everything clicked. There was, at this point, a small but growing population of Ghost Bears on several planets within the Dominion, including, as it happened, Alshain. He had personal knowledge of that, in fact, his injuries having been caused by one during his recent participation in a Clawing ritual, one of the first to occur on the planet. But the populations were very small, and as such extremely well protected, legally. The only interference of them that was permitted was the Clawing ritual, and those were rare.

He caught Huntsig’s eyes with his own, and the Star Colonel nodded.

“It seems this DeSimon has put out feelers for an illegal hunt. To take a breeding pair of Ghost Bears alive and smuggle them off planet. Lyran Intelligence feels that this is a very good way to provoke an unsanctioned invasion of Commonwealth space by Dominion forces, and have tasked Leutnant Kriesel here with preventing that.”

Jehan barked a short laugh.

“Unsanctioned invasion? Aff, that is a good way to phrase that. Every Trueborn Warrior who could secure a Dropship and Jump transit would charge headlong. Even if we had to plough through the Wolves and the Falcons to do it.” His use of the word ‘we’ was not lost on either of his guests. He set his water bottle back down on the side table. Clasped his hands behind his back, set his feet shoulder’s width apart.

“So.” He asked. “When do we start?”