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depressedraisin · 10 months

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dress rehearsal rag - leonard cohen, songs of love and hate (1971) // star treatment - alex turner, tranquility base hotel and casino (2018)

#i always think of the other golden boy whenever im listening to one of these songs lol #idk if it makes sense #leonard cohen #songs of love and hate #alex turner #arctic monkeys #drr is my current fav from songs of love and hate #the composition reminds me of mr. schwarz a lil bit

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corneille-moisie · 8 months

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i was tagged by @im-sometimes-sparkles to spell my url with song titles and did not want to reblog the long reblog chain (you can reblog this one or make your own, either's fine by me :) )

candis - sukekiyo

obscure - dir en grey (cw for gore and other gross stuff, just in case)

rink - blam honey

nas ne dagoniat - tatu (not gonna get us works too :D)

energize me - after forever

inner universe - hora

l'horloge - chanton l'amour

last hallucination - schwarz stein

even in death - evanescence

maze - velvet eden

ophelia - kaya

if i could turn back time - cher

senzafine - lacuna coil

iidk - vidoll

edema ruh - nightwish

im tagging @moonjaehwa, @ans-main, @technicontrastron, @kurumeki, @jade-curtiss because im curious but you're under no obligation to actually do it lol :3

eta : no need to link everything, im just extra like that ^^

and if you were not tagged and wanna do it, go ahead, do it !! (tag me though, i wanna see 👀 !!)

#i tried to go for -some- variety #mostly it just means its not all japanese LOL #its still mostly all japanese oops #candis is my last love at first listen :3 #obscure is a timeless classic at this point (and i mean the original version !!!)#rink is because i wanted an excuse to mention blam honey :)#not gonna get us is honestly the first thing that came to mind #energize me is also the first thing that came to mind #inner universe i really do mean the hora version the another cell version is good too but hora's version. !!!!#l'horloge is one of my favourite song of all time and yes its because of how she sings 'please let me die' :D #last hallucination is my favourite schwarz stein song :D #even in death is also one of my favourite evanescence song #the newer version is ok but i prefer the old one #maze because please look it up on youtube and thank me later ^^#ophelia well tbh i just wanted to mention a kaya solo song and ophelia is good ;w;#if i could turn back time is because i thought itd be funny to add cher to this pile lmao #senzafine is one of my favourite from lacuna coil~ and any version is probably fine #iidk is my favourite vidoll song #edema ruh is the most recent nightwish song i liked i guess but also the syth gets to me everytime aaaaaaaaaa #lmao infodump post #an audhd post #im sorry if i tagged you and you hate these kinds of things T^T

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wheres-my-prize · 2 years

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Here's the Harvey fic I promised :) I'll put a cut because she's a little lengthy

~**~

Emilia had died late last night. 5 hours ago, 4 in the morning, William and Charles came by to help bury her. Harvey hadn’t moved since then, hadn’t spoken a word all day. He sat and stared at the grave and tried to wrap his head around the situation. It was his youngest sister’s fault for saying he spent too much time with his wife, it was his boss’ fault for firing him, it was totally and entirely his fault for not saving her sooner — in fact, she wasn’t even dead. She couldn’t be. She’d come out of the house any second and scold him for sitting outside without a jacket in the middle of winter, and he’d gladly come back in with her.

Three more hours pass and she still hasn’t come. They feel like nothing at all. William comes back over to tell him to go inside, for God’s sake. Harvey hardly realizes he’s there.

The next time he’s aware of his surroundings he’s inside again, lying on their bed fully dressed. He doesn’t remember getting up, he doesn’t even register it in his mind. The only thing he can think about is how empty the house is. Emilia should be here, lying next to him, chastising him for tracking dirt on the floor, singing in the kitchen. He’s never been able to sleep on his back but he can’t stand to face the empty blankets to his right.

He’s awake again, the phone is ringing. It’s definitely still dark out, though he can’t tell how much time has passed. Instinctively he gets up to pick up the phone, but he finds himself completely unable to form a sentence. The phone stops ringing. He presses his palms against his eyes to try and stop the migraine he can feel coming on, but the attempt is fruitless. He slips his jacket over his shoulders and leaves the house to buy smokes for the first time in 10 years.

Harvey is standing in an alley and smoking. He can’t even recall the last time he did this. Surprisingly, leaving the house cleared his head a significant amount. He’s aware of his surroundings at least for the most part now. There’s two men standing on the porch of a business around the corner from him, talking loud enough for him to hear loud and clear.

“You know, this whole… ‘Depression’ nonsense is really getting to me, Dick. I mean, honestly…! The way I see it – if the ‘poor’ didn’t have the financial stability to survive, they weren’t working hard enough to deserve to be alive. Who are we to dispute God’s choice to save this country from the weak and lazy?”

Harvey stopped listening. His blood boiled, his vision went red. He could hear nothing more than his own heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly, everything was hazy again. He only got small snippets of consciousness, it felt like he wasn’t able to control his own actions, just watched as he moved independently of himself. He found himself walking back to his house, then standing in the same alley tightly gripping a knife he vaguely recognized. The man who’d been talking passed by him without paying him any mind, he was without the other person now. Harvey followed him, stalked him to a large house in a secluded area. The next thing he knew, he was standing by a river bank, covered in blood, pushing a very heavy bag into the water. He didn’t know where the knife was.

It was morning, Harvey was sitting on the bed again. He’s wearing clean clothes again, the knife is still nowhere in sight. It was nearly like nothing had happened, if not for the overpowering stench of blood. He stood to investigate the smell, it seemed as though every bone in his body was aching.

Three weeks had passed since the murder– he’d decided he’d definitely murdered the man, though he couldn’t recall it clearly – and Harvey could not find a single reason to feel guilt about it. He was shocked, really, breaking the law with a clean conscience was very unlike him. His head was unusually clear, and after much sitting at Emilia’s grave and speaking to her aloud, he’d determined that it was in self defense and it was completely necessary that he defend his wife’s honor and memory against the man. The only regret he held was that he didn’t cause more suffering for the class that killed his wife. He hadn’t truly committed any crime in his own eyes.

Harvey was walking by the river, it was swarming with police officers. A bag had been dragged onto the bank. One of the men was holding the knife he’d lost. That night, he’d said goodbye to Emilia and left town without saying a word to anybody.

~**~

Harvey didn’t know where he was. He’d taken a train an hour out and was staying in a hotel. He’d hardly had the money to eat – not that he really had before, but it had gotten easier since only needing to find food for one person – and found that the only thing ever on his mind was how much he regretted leaving Emilia and how badly he needed to get revenge on everyone who had forced him to. He’d taken the blame all the way up to the imagined source, and decided somebody needed to bring down the authority of President Hoover, one way or another. Hoover was the one who prolonged the economic crisis, Hoover was the one who took his job from him, Hoover was the one who wouldn’t provide support when Harvey’s wife was in the hospital, Hoover was the one who needed to pay for his crimes. Not Harvey.

The money problem was getting worse. He couldn’t eat anymore. He was at a pawn shop selling his wedding ring. He wasn’t totally sure why he couldn’t just let himself starve, it wasn’t like he had a home to go back to, or a wife, or a family, as soon as they found out what he’d gone and done. He knew, deep down, it was for the same reason why he hadn’t turned himself in to the police in the first place: he wasn’t done avenging Emilia. He needed to do more. He needed to ensure that the same fate wasn’t brought upon another man’s wife. He couldn’t die until he’d fixed the problem.

The owner of the shop had his back turned to Harvey, giving him some speech he hadn’t listened to a word of. Harvey’s eyes absentmindedly scanned the shop. His gaze fell onto a gun lying right out on the counter in front of him. It was a revolver, relatively small, .22 caliber, only around 10 years out of date. A million thoughts flashed through his head at once. Picking up the gun and checking quickly that the owner wasn’t looking at him, Harvey tucked it under his shirt and put his jacket on to conceal the silhouette. He picked his ring back up off the counter.

“On second thought… I don’t think I’m ready to sell this,” He interrupted

The owner’s eyebrows raised, he stopped talking and turned back to face Harvey again.

“Oh. Are you sure? Of course, we could–”

Harvey quickly nodded and made for the door, feigning intense emotion. Not that he didn’t genuinely feel upset to have nearly sold it, he simply had a mission to complete and no time to spare on extensive explanations or emotional outbursts.

~**~

After a few days’ travel across a few trains, gun and stolen bullets hidden deep within his suitcase, Harvey had arrived in Washington, D.C. His mind was clearer than it had been in weeks, his goal defined and within reach. Hoover was holding a rally, a place for rich supporters to celebrate his utter failure of a term. Harvey was completely disgusted by the concept, but excited by the chance to get an easy shot at him.

The convention was truly a marvel, like a trainwreck that was gruesome and impossible to look away from. The nicest suits Harvey had ever seen on people so visibly hedonistic and immoral. Everyone there looked at him with scrutiny, as though he were some sort of vermin with his tattered jacket and uncombed hair. He brushed them all off, it didn’t matter how they looked upon him now, when they’d all be distraught and horrified when they watched him leave. He wasn’t here to prove anything, he was here to make these men pay for what they’d done to his Emilia. That was all that mattered now.

The plan was simple. The gun was hidden within a pocket sewed to the inside of his jacket. Hoover would walk up in front of the crowd and begin his speech. Harvey would weasel his way to the front – he was thin from not eating and quite tall, it would not be difficult – he would feign interest, emotion. He would reach into his jacket under the guise of going for a handkerchief, pull out his revolver. Shoot Hoover four times at point-blank range. Hoover would die, Harvey would be taken by police, tried for assassination, and would take the death penalty glady knowing that he’d avenged Emilia and was going to return to her. It was perfect, foolproof.

But, then… Hoover came in front of the crowd. Harvey looked the man who killed his wife in the eyes for the first time in his life. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t risk it. He needed Hoover to die immediately, he couldn’t risk it. He was consumed by a blind rage, an unstoppable hunger for Hoover’s death, and he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t risk missing his chance to make them all pay.

Harvey pulled the gun from his pocket and shot four rounds at him. The speech ended abruptly. Screams rang out, cries of shock and pain. He was tackled by a security guard. His glasses broke when he hit the ground, glass flattened against his face and stuck deep into the skin and muscle under his eye. More guards piled on top of him. Everyone was yelling. His nose was pressed to the ground, his shoulder on top of it. He couldn’t breathe. He felt the gun pulled from under his body, felt himself being pulled to his feet. A man with very large hands grabbed him by the throat. Handcuffs were fastened around his wrists so tightly he could have sworn he was bleeding. He tried to turn his head to see if he’d hit Hoover, his head was forcefully snapped back into place. He was dragged from the scene into a police car. Everything was so damn loud.

~**~

Harvey was sitting in a prison. He’d been stripped of everything except for an undershirt and pants, he was freezing cold. The glass embedded in his face had caused his right eye to swell shut. It felt like he could feel every bruise on his body, and they were everywhere. There was an officer going through his suitcase across the room, and at least thirteen others, armed, with guns pointing at him. He didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know if he’d succeeded.

He’d been interrogated what felt like a hundred times. He admitted to everything – the murder, the theft, evading arrest, assassination – nobody would tell him if Hoover was dead or not. It felt like they wanted more information, like he wasn’t telling them something he didn’t know he wasn’t telling them. One of the interrogation officers asked if he’d murdered his Emilia. He didn’t answer questions from that man anymore.

Harvey was sitting in a courtroom, he’d finally been given his clothes back. He was looking through his good eye across the room at his family. Why they’d chosen to come he didn’t know. Most of his siblings were looking anywhere they could that wasn’t at Harvey, like they couldn’t handle that their oldest brother had turned from such a sweet and caring man into a monster. They didn’t understand. His youngest brother, Calvin, looked up and met his gaze. Why his mother had ever decided that it was appropriate for a sixteen-year-old boy to watch his own brother be sentenced to death he didn’t know. Harvey offered a slight smile in his direction, he honestly felt bad that he had to be here. Calvin looked back down at his shoes without returning it. Probably for the best.

~**~

Harvey was found guilty of attempted assination, murder in the 1st degree, resisting arrest, and two counts of theft. He was sentenced to execution by electric chair. His mother weeped, the only upset person in the room aside from Harvey. He had failed completely and was going to die for it. Maybe it was for the best. He wouldn’t have been able to avenge Emilia in prison for the rest of his life. He’d done his best, and it wasn’t good enough. He didn’t deserve a second chance. Should’ve waited.

He was allowed a guarded meeting with his family before he was put back in his cell to wait for his execution. He didn’t want to meet with his family. He’d not been given a choice.

Mrs. Schwarz had yet to stop crying since he was sentenced. He couldn’t meet her gaze, nor could he respond to her angry questioning. William was the closest in age to Harvey, and he simply looked disappointed. Louise sat with her head in her hands. Minnie cussed him out upon entering the room and hadn’t said a single word since. Calvin was just staring at him. Calvin shouldn’t have been there. He was far too young to understand what was happening. He’d never completely recover from this. Charles said everyone thought he’d killed himself, asked him why he would ever do what he did. He didn’t respond.

~**~

Three weeks had passed since he’d spoken with his family. It was the date of his execution. He had to finally face the repercussions of his actions.

For his last day alive, Harvey was surprisingly unaffected.

The guards asked for his final meal. He told them he didn’t want any food, just a minute completely alone to speak with his Emilia. His request was denied.

He was strapped into the chair. His heartbeat quickened. He swore at himself internally, now really was not the time to get anxious.

There were people in the room. Hoover supporters, excited to see him get his comeuppance for challenging their precious worldview. His brother William was there, the rest of his family returned to their homes because they couldn’t afford to lose their jobs. There was a photographer who seemed young and inexperienced, his camera in hand, resting at his side instead of taking pictures. Not a single person he was happy to see in his final moments.

The man standing in front of the crowd was giving a speech he couldn’t bring himself to listen to about how wonderful of a man Herbet Hoover was. He was disgusted that such words would be spoken in his presence right before his death. He was too exhausted to say anything about it.

The speech finished. The speaker turned to give the executioner a look of approval. He moved out of the way so everyone could watch. This was it.

Harvey’s last thought was not about his own death, nor about the people in the room, nor about Hoover. Harvey Schwarz’s last thought was about his wife, Emilia, just as it was meant to be. He was going to return to her at last, and he'd never been happier.

~**~

#My blood sugar is QUITE high so I reckon I'm gonna go lie down but I hope u enjoy!!#I don't actually recall if this is good or not but I started crying at 3 am last night trying to finish it so it was sad then at least #don't listen to duffy I'm not paying anybody's therapy bills over this . my own therapist charges up the ass i don't have the finances (/J)#I prommy harvey isn't always this obsessive and weird he's just goin through it #okay that should be all #Harvey Schwarz #my writing

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skeknya · 3 months

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Get to know me tag

Thanks for the tag @onedismay :3

Rules: Tag 10 or more people you want to get to know better

Fave ships: All skeksis ships, especially when SkekSil is involved. SkekSil/SkekTek, SkekNa/SkekTek, SkekMal/SkekSil,........ And I'm shipping my OC with half of them xD Also Stolitz and Symbrock <3

Favorite color: purple, light blue, black

Song stuck in my head: Liv Sin - Slave to the machine

🎵🎶Don't think you're in control

Cause they own your life

They own your soul

Don't buy their brief temptations

You're a slave to the machine 🎶🎵

Favourite food: Everything fried, pasta and cheese. I have to force myself to eat healthy ^^"

Last song listened to: ASP - Schwarzes Blut

🎶🎵 Ich taumle weiter, vorwärts, abwärts

In meinen Adern fließt das schwarze Blut 🎵🎶

Last TV show/movie: Hazbin Hotel! Sir Pentious is a good noodle <3

Spicy/sweet/savory?: Sweet->savory->spicy but I love all of them :) hard decision

Currently reading: Tides of the Dark Crystal! I really like the Gelfling main characters. There are many marked pages in my book with descriptions of the Skeksis xD I'm also reading The colour of revenge (Die Farbe der Rache) by Cornelia Funke. Sadly all my favourite characters died in the previous books (piper my beloved).

Last thing I googled: The menu for the restaurant I will visit with my sister today. If I go there unprepared, I may get overwhelmed by the food selection and order something I'll regret. Happened to often >_< To much choice, not enough time.

I'm tagging @ben-the-hyena @punkcalf @sunstar-of-the-north @aspenwynd @skekdris @natachastar @fischmitkeinemrad17 @lockboxfullofspoods

if you want of course! (you want ;D)

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tagedeszorns · 3 months

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Something not Warhammer-related: Revro, the professional Imman-player.

In Germany, the role-playing game system DSA ("Das Schwarze Auge" - "The Black Eye"), now also forty years old, is more popular than D&D. It has much more complex rules (both blessing and curse) and is more geared towards building a character that fits into the incredibly detailed world and interacting with the creatures and circumstances there. The power level is lower and the characters rarely become overpowered heroes. On the other hand, there is the opportunity to explore all kinds of well-developed areas, cities and political contexts and you can easily be a travelling blacksmith, a cartographer or a wonderfully useless, incredibly nerdy mage. Or a trader, a mercenary who is actually a cook (or vice versa) or a tattoo-artist.

Of course, this also means that an average DSA adventure is not a dungeon crawl.

Which led to our game master "gifting" us an NPC who is a celebrated Imman player in Havena the not very mage-friendly town we are currently involuntarily staying in. Imman is a very popular team sport, distantly related to hurling. Revro, that's his name, plays for the Havena Bulls and has developed a crush on my clueless mage. Much to the continued amusement of the rest of our group.

Doesn't matter - my mage is happy. Finally, someone who is willing to listen to his elaborate explanations of old-puninian number magic!

And because I had so much fun with Revro, I sketched him and hope we can keep him.

#Roleplay #OC #DSA #Das Schwarze Auge #pen and paper #TTRPG #RPG

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waheelawhisperer · 1 year

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Nearl (giving an Inspiring Protagonist Speech after winning the 24th Kazimierz Major): My countrymen, I call upon you to remember your honor and the honor of our nation! Remember the codes of chivalry and the knightly tradition Kazimierz was built on! Look deep within yourselves, deep within your hearts, and find the courage to condemn greed, to cast off the avarice that binds you in chains of silk and gold, and work with me to build a brighter Kazimierz!

Me (sitting with the leading officials of the Kazimierz General Chamber of Commerce): Y'all best listen to her and "remember" your honor, or I'm fixin' to "remember" how many of my operators cut their teeth on wetwork before I hired them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nearl (bursting into my office, visibly excited): Doctor, did you see the news!? Several of the most notoriously corrupt members of the General Chamber have resigned from their positions and pledged to donate their wealth to charity, and Mr. Malkiewicz has sponsored new legislation to fight discrimination and improve living and working conditions for the Infected of Kazimierz! Isn't this wonderful?

Me (trying to close the drawer on my desk containing several bloody Kuranta knucklebones and a flirtatious note from Schwarz as quietly and unobtrusively as possible): I saw, Margaret. That's great news. They must've been inspired by your example.

Nearl: I never thought I could do so much to help my people. It's all thanks to you, Doctor. I never would've made it this far without you.

Me (hoping Nearl does not check the mission logs and figure out where Schwarz, Phantom, Gravel, Platinum, Ascalon, and Lappland have been for the past few days): It's all you, honey. You're doing great. Keep up the good work.

#arknights #nearl #margaret nearl #schwarz #phantom #gravel #platinum #ascalon #lappland #wife

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burlveneer-music · 4 months

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Ordnance Survey - Turas - music in the orbit of the Ghost Box/Clay Pipe binary sun, incorporating field recordings from ancient burial sites in Ireland

Turas (Journey) is the most ambitious Ordnance Survey record to date. The field recordings used on Turas were captured with both analog and digital devices at passage and wedge tombs across Meath, West Cork, Wicklow, Connemara and Roscommon. To make use of the tombs' acoustics, elements like percussion were recorded in the tombs and through the process of re-amplification (playing pre-recorded material back in the tombs), this 3000 year old reverberation became a major part of the sound world that the listener experience. Turas is an electronically mediated journey that allows these historical sites to become an important collaborative factor in the creative process. Guest collaborators include Roger Doyle (Piano), Garreth Quinn Redmond (Violin), and Billy Mag Fhloinn (Yaybahar.) Recorded and Produced by Neil O'Connor between May 2021 and July 2022 at the National Concert Hall Studios, Ballferriter, Co.Kerry, Willem Twee Studios, Den Bosch, Holland and at historical sites around Ireland. Instruments Piano, Bass, Drums, Shakers, Bells, Tambourine. Synthesizers Moog Voyager, Moog Opus Three, Korg Mono Poly, Roland Juno 60, Roland JX3P, Sequential Circuits Pro One, Sequential Circuits Prophet 4 & 5, EMS VCS3 Modular Synthesizers Make Noise Shared System Plus, Serge System, ARP 2500 Test Equipment Rhode & Schwarz Oscillators x 12, Rhode & Schwarz Octave Filter x 3, Hewlett-Packard 8005A Pulse Generator, Hewlett-Packard 8006A Word Generator, Hewlett-Packard 3722 A Noise Generator, Hewlett-Packard 3310B Function Generator, EG&G Parc Model 193 Multiplier/Divider. Recording Equipment Revox A70, Tascam Model 80, Uher Monitor Report, Sony TC-40, Zoom H4 Garreth Quinn Redmond (Violin) Billy Mag Fhlionn: Yaybahar Roger Doyle (Piano) Artwork & Layout: Gavin O Brien Supported by Final County Council & The Arts Council of Ireland

#Bandcamp #Ordnance Survey #experimental #hauntology #ireland #2023 #Scintilla Recordings #electronic #field recordings

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shuttershocky · 1 year

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You know, this might sound weird but I think the relationship between Siege and Saga's S2 is starting to define rival 6 star design in Arknights.

With Qiu Bai coming out and offering a lot of power (arts damage, multi-target, increasing ASPD, enormous scaling between S3L7 and S3M3, and bind on hit) in exchange for convenience (lower range than Thorns, S3 not permanent, S3 cost remarkably high for a Year 3 operator) I think we have enough examples to say this is their design trend.

Purely numbers-wise Saga S2 is a straight powercreep of Siege. it does the same thing, with higher range, more SP gain on a kill, and higher damage. The only thing Siege's S2 has going for it is having unlimited targets (but good luck beating Saga's 6 targets in such a small range) and being auto triggered vs manually triggered (seen as a weakness in most cases, unless in very spammy stages.)

Siege's best offer really is just plain convenience. You put her down, she does the spin, and she'll do it all on her own without needing the player you manually select her then listen to her blow your ears out with ABURAAGE.

But Convenience vs Power is a whole thing now. Mlynar's S3 is literally just a much stronger version of Silverash's S3 but you need to think about Liberator mechanics (need to charge up for 40 seconds for full ATK, Mlynar can't block or attack without the skill active, Mlynar will have a harder time redeploying around due to Liberator mechanics). Gavial has higher damage output than Blaze, but she needs manual activation and in niche cases, lacks the status resistance to tank disable-heavy stages while Blaze sits behind Saria and then you leave her alone for the rest of the stage. Pozyomka has even /higher/ DPS vs most targets than Schwarz, though you need to make use of lining up her summon (which needs its own ranged tile) with the same target to make the most out of her skills.

With that in mind, i'm predicting that the next 6 star Arts Fighter after Surtr actually has ignore 60 RES and 1.5x Surtr's damage but when you deploy her you need to wait 10 seconds instead of 5 and have to solve for the integral first

#Arknights

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corneille-moisie · 2 months

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couldnt sleep so im listening to the schwarz stein remixes i got from scape, yesterday

blazing darkness sounds like a ddr track lol

#will listen again later cause i cant listen loudly rn #schwarz stein

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toadstoolwriting · 7 months

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Star Crossed- Chapter Four

Warnings: "Detective" Schwarz and Anxiety.

Word Count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Three

______________________________________________________________

Opening the door to the police station was like going into a gym. It screamed alpha. Several smells mingled in the air, mostly arrogance but fear, not of the officers but likely those awaiting trial. It was a small city, so the station reflected it. The entire thing was just one room, desks arranged in the middle with a receptionist desk and a little gate blocking the walkway into the main area.

From what you remember, besides Officer Anderson, only four other people were in the actual police force. Looking around, you guessed Detective Schwarz brought a few of his force to help. Considering there were about six people in uniform behind the gate.

You walked over to the receptionist. He smiled at you with a knowing eye. He didn't say a word as you got buzzed through the gate. Putting one step in front of the other, you moved to one of the familiar officers, rubbing your clammy hands together. Something was making your mind race at the idea of meeting with Detective Schwarz.

You thought back to the reaction Bucky had this morning. He was distraught by just hearing his name. Could it be that the detective had arrested him before? It's not like you knew anything about Bucky; he definitely could be a criminal, considering he broke into the restaurant where you worked. But then, what could he have meant by saying "handler"? Your stomach turned at the implication. Bucky was a large alpha by the standard of society. So the idea of someone being his handler left a sour taste in your mouth. There was also his metal arm; if it was a prosthetic, it must have been made specifically for him. You've only seen a few people with prosthetics, and they looked less functional than the one he had.

Someone said your name, and you looked up, not realizing you had stopped in the middle of the pen. Officer Anderson gave you a small wave, and you smiled. Being a regular at the diner, you knew him well and trusted him more than anyone on the police force. He was a beta, so being around him didn't intimidate you as much as almost everyone else in the room at the moment.

"Hi, Mr. Anderson? I need to speak with Detective Schwarz. He called me this morning saying I needed to give a statement about yesterday's break-in at the diner." You were fidgeting, and your voice wasn't as strong as usual.

He patted your shoulder before speaking, "Hey, yeah, he's in the office." He jerked his head toward their single office. You could hear faintly a voice coming from the room.

Looking back at Officer Anderson, you gave him a polite nod, "Do you mind walking me to him?" You hadn't missed the slight raise of his eyebrows. "I have a pretty bad feeling. I don't know why, but I am choosing to listen to it," technically, you did at least partially know why, but it's not like you could share that with him. "If you're too busy, that's okay."

"No, no, it's okay." He stuck out his arm for you to hold onto as you made your way to the small office. With each step, the voice behind the door got louder. You could tell the language wasn't English… It sounded like Russian, though the accent sounded German.

Letting go of your arm and giving you a small smile, Officer Anderson knocked on the door. With three short knocks, the man behind the door stopped speaking, and a few beats of silence followed before the door opened.

The man behind the door smiled at seeing you, making you uncomfortable. He moved the door to clear a path into the office, gesturing for you to step in. You tentatively made your way in, watching the Beta at the door.

He stood upright, also watching you; his eyes were a dark brown, giving the appearance of a void. His hair was blond, slicked up and back, making him appear just taller than average. Despite his scent giving no indication of being anything other than a beta, he gave the impression of an alpha just by looking at him.

As Officer Anderson made his way through the door right behind you, the man you assumed was Detective Schwarz put a hand out to stop him. He leaned to whisper something in his ear. Anderson looked at you, gave you a reassuring smile, then turned around, leaving you and the detective alone in the room once the door was shut.

The detective was the first to speak, taking a seat at the desk in the center of the room and gesturing for you to sit in a chair on the opposite side. "I'm glad you could make it," he brought out a notebook and paper. "so I am going to ask you some questions about last night." He looked at you expectantly.

You nodded, not knowing if he was looking for confirmation, waiting for him to continue.

"Recall exactly as you can remember the events of last night starting at around 9:00 leading up to about 9:10 P.M." You didn't know what you would say. You weren't the best of liars. Thinking back, you decided to recall your last close that hadn't been interrupted by an alpha breaking in. Your nights usually would go the same way, except you usually had someone there when you closed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Peterson were the last in the diner. I was wrapping up the silverware while waiting for them to finish." You took a deep breath, hoping that this would be convincing. "They left around nine as they do every night they eat there."

You smiled, recalling how in love they always looked. Your brain seemed to warp the memory of them to one of you and Bucky. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shook the image from your mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.

Refocusing your thoughts, you continued, "I did a bit of cleaning. I like ensuring all tables, counters, and floors are clean for the opening crew. Once I finished the rest of what I had to do, I went to the office and got the key. And closed up before going home."

"As the closer, you should have your key with you. Why did you have to go to the office to get it?" His tone was accusatory. It left your mouth dry.

"I had left it the day before because we had a new employee closing who didn't have her keys yet. She didn't work yesterday, so we agreed to keep it in the office." You raised an eyebrow at him. Something about him was making you angry, the fear from earlier disappearing.

"Do you have a mate, Ms.?" his pronunciation of your last name felt off, like he was intentionally saying each syllable instead of saying it as one word.

"Excuse me?" You crossed your arms, staring at him.

"I asked if you had a mate," he stared back, challenging you.

"Why that is something you need to know?"

"Oh, I am just curious what an omega like you is doing without a mate." He set the notebook down, and following it, you saw he hadn't written anything.

"I don't have a mate, nor do I need one," You bit back a snarl.

He took several moments just looking at you before speaking again. "Must have been pretty lucky to miss a break-in like that. Who knows what could have happened if there were any witnesses," he paused, "The man we are looking for is known for leaving no witnesses, and he can be quite merciless."

You rubbed your hands together, the clammy feeling returning. But you ensured your tone was even and direct. "Was there anything else you needed from me, Detective?"

The detective picked up the notepad again, "Can I have your full name?" His tone changed so much it practically gave you whiplash; it seemed he'd finally decided to do his job.

After giving him your full name, he asked you your birthdate and how long you've worked at the diner, among other things that he deemed relevant to the investigation. You answered everything to the best of your ability, though admittedly, you tripped up several times when he asked about last night specifically. He hadn't pointed it out, so you assumed he chalked it up to you being a scared omega. As mad as that made you, all you wanted to do was get out of this office. By the end of the interview, you were exhausted. Whenever you thought he was done asking a question, he seemed to conjure up more.

"Well, I believe that's it," he grabbed a card on the side of the desk and slid it towards you. You eyed the piece of paper; it was a business card with an empty red circle in the middle and his information over it in black. "In case you think of anything else." He tapped the paper; you took it from the desk and tucked it into your purse. As you stood up, he approached the door before opening it and gesturing for you to go through.

Once you passed him out of the office, you were determined to leave immediately. Weaving your way through the small crowd of officers, none of whom were really paying attention to you. You made it to the gate where the receptionist's desk saw Officer Anderson leaning over the desk and talking to the lady who was now sitting behind it.

You cleared your throat, hoping to get the receptionist's attention. She looked up before buzzing you through with a smile. The officer noticed your presence then, electing to turn around and greet you by name.

"How did it go?" He was still leaning against the desk with his elbow propped up.

"It was fine," you were stealing glances at the door.

"Yeah, the detective can be a bit much, don't let it get to you, okay?" His hand fitted against your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze. "I doubt you'll see much of him after today anyway." He let his hand fall from you, giving you one last reassuring smile. "See you at the diner."

"I'll see you 'round." You called out as you left the building. Finally, outside, you checked your watch.

You'd been at the station for over an hour; luckily, you didn't have work today, so you decided to head home. It had been a really long day already, and you just needed to go home and relax. However, the likelihood of you doing that was very low, considering you were sheltering a possible criminal in your home.

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Taglist: @kandis-mom @thehumanistsdiary @talesofadragon @littlelovebug98 @verygraphicink

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A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading! I apologize that this one took a little bit longer to get out, I'm not as satisfied with it but I'll probably fix it in editing.

There's no bucky in this chapter but that's okay he'll be back in the next one.

Also I finally remembered the full taglist! Let me know if you wanna be added.

As always constructive criticism is encouraged!

No beta we die like men.

See you in the next one- Phrog

#bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #alpha bucky x omega reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #winter soldier

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megannabell · 5 months

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Tag game: Go to your "on repeat" playlist on Spotify and put it in shuffle mode. Then, you upload the first ten songs!

Tagged by @marcelle-ravensky <3

Tagging @frostedlemonwriter, @cavewomania, @nevertrulyset @writingamongther0ses, @mylastknownexistence, @cosmiccoincidence, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @its-all-ineffable, @aliciadreams, & @toribookworm22!

#I feel obligated to tell you all that I mainly use Spotify for fic writing purposes #and as such my repeats reflect the fics I'm writing more than anything else #(thank you sir elton john 🙄)#Spotify

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haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll · 1 month

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Tracklist:

Armee der Tristen • Zeit • Schwarz • Giftig • Zick Zack • OK • Meine Tränen • Angst • Dicke Titten • Lügen • Adieu

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ Youtube

#hyltta-polls #polls #artist: rammstein #language: german #decade: 2020s #Neue Deutsche Härte #Gothic Metal #Industrial Metal

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akaluan · 2 months

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swept up amid this changing world Part 19

Erich wakes abruptly, hand going immediately to his pistol, and listens— “Morning, sir,” Degurechaff greets him as she stalks closer, her spiritual presence prickly with exhaustion-annoyance-exasperation as she comes to a stop a bare foot from his head. “I have the troops breaking camp already after a cold breakfast. Here’s yours. Major Schwarz will be along in a moment with theirs.” Erich…

View On WordPress

#Alexis von Rerugen #Alexis/Erich/Kisuke #bleach #bleach/tanya #Erich von Rerugen #tanya the evil #Urahara Kisuke

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