sabotagedsyringes
When the sniper made his daily round to check upon the number of highly venomous reptiles he kept for tool and trade, he'd note that there was a rather large cobra missing from his inventory. One could only wonder why.

Oh my, by no means was Amsel enthralled to find that one of his snakes had gone missing! And one unable to own up to being entirely ‘harmless’, to boot. 

Vor 22 Stunden   3   Reblog
tasteofthefatherland
[a parcel's been left for the sniper in his quarters. In it, a bottle of cheap vodka and a plentiful stash of unmarked pills. There is a note attached] "Just like the good old days. -Kristoff"

Amsel was never one to waste perfectly good ‘entertainment’, however, this parcel was one to end up eaten by flame and fire, rather than by the one to whom it was intended. One glance at the note and the handwriting with which it’s been penned was enough.

Burn, baby, burn.

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bangbangkopfschuss
Eliza, I need help.

ladyofnucleus:

bangbangkopfschuss:

ladyofnucleus:

Eliza bit back a snide remark, knowing she was still sore about her sniper’s recentmost bout with substance, and pursed her lips together. Truly, though—she was worried. The realisation that he came to her so…directly, was an odd sensation. What washed over her, though, was somber.

"LIebe, vhat’s wrong?" An open-ended question, she thought, might help her to better discern what it was that Amsel was beseeching her for.

Amsel could see Eliza’s tittering jibe just waiting to lash out to at him in derision. He knew he deserved any and all remarks made with ill intent, and when through, more still could be rightfully administered. 

A horrid amalgam of guilt, regret—shame of every colour and measure—churned in his belly and forced his gaze downward and away. 

"You know vhat is wrong viss me," He swallowed hard, his own words serving only to catch in his throat and choke him, "Don’t force me to say it. I can’t stop, I need help."

Her immediate instinct was to berate herself for wanting to—for lack of a better word—scoff at his admission. So many times had she heard it before, so it was no surprise that it meant…little, to the medic. The guilt Amsel wore, though, did change her interpretation. At least, to some degree.

Her chest ached—Eliza hurt for him—but arms still folded over each other over her midriff. Not in disdain, but as a physical reaction to her own pain for him.

"No, Amsel, I zhink it’s fair I get zhat much. You say zhis, und acknowledge zhat, but nossing ever gets done. I love you, but I vant to hear it."

In all fairness, this was something of a call back to a previous ‘attempt’ at long-term sobriety, one that had ended in nothing close to success. 

He hadn’t wanted it then, not enough. Amsel hadn’t felt the weight of consequence riding so heavily on his shoulders until recently, when he was able to note a distinct decline in his relative health. Frankly, it scared him. A lot. 

"I don’t vant to die, Eliza. If I keep viss zhe drugs, and— and everything else, I vill. I don’t know vhat to do."

Vor 1 Tag   6   Reblog

liebesdeutschland:

Garmisch-Partenkirchen (Bayern)

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reptiglo:

Angry baby

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pypyro hat gesagt: Oh my god I love Johannes so much though. ))

[[shh /pap he’s awful though then again, I personally love him for that reason]]

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medical-malice
Drinking is good for you, you shouldn't stop. Here, take a bottle of vodka and sleeping pills. Both together - Go!

"…"

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bangbangkopfschuss
Eliza, I need help.

ladyofnucleus:

Eliza bit back a snide remark, knowing she was still sore about her sniper’s recentmost bout with substance, and pursed her lips together. Truly, though—she was worried. The realisation that he came to her so…directly, was an odd sensation. What washed over her, though, was somber.

"LIebe, vhat’s wrong?" An open-ended question, she thought, might help her to better discern what it was that Amsel was beseeching her for.

Amsel could see Eliza’s tittering jibe just waiting to lash out to at him in derision. He knew he deserved any and all remarks made with ill intent, and when through, more still could be rightfully administered. 

A horrid amalgam of guilt, regret—shame of every colour and measure—churned in his belly and forced his gaze downward and away. 

"You know vhat is wrong viss me," He swallowed hard, his own words serving only to catch in his throat and choke him, "Don’t force me to say it. I can’t stop, I need help."

Vor 1 Tag   6   Reblog
bangbangkopfschuss
Hey, there he is. Came back from zhat little 'business' venture only to find you--vouldn't you know it--missing! Vhere did you run off to?

antlerssss:

Oh. I took some medical leave.

Huh. Welcome back, zhen. Guess you’re not dying, so zhat is a good thing.

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After having spent an hour or more sick to his stomach, Amsel could now be found curled under the bench of his piano, decidedly finished with his prior rampage of drug and alcohol misuse. 

Vor 2 Tagen   2   Reblog
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