#⌇journey to the end of the night ( 𝙈𝙖𝙙𝙨

[distopea]

OKAY WAIT MADS WWII ☮ - Work Uniform 😏 ♚ - casual / everyday ♤ -  Look-At-Me-I’m-Hella-Attractive Outfit

@cantuscorvi

Outfit headcanon

☮ - Work Uniform

Due to his work as a British Navy Officer, Mads collects various uniforms depending on the ships he's sailing, his hierarchical position at the moment of the mission (aka who has the highest rank on board) and the mission (war times, simple exercise...). White and navy blue colors are often used by the British Army, but it happens, for gala and official presentation, that they switch to a navy blue uniform. They always wear a knot around their necks most of the time.

♚ - casual / everyday

Before joining the Navy, Mads was basically a farm boy from Scotland, and his fashion was much developed. He used to work outside a lot, so he prefers to wear very casual outfits to help his handy job (rolled up sleeves on jean shirt, tank tops, jeans, farm pants with suspenders). He has never really cared about his appearance, but only what he could do to be useful. He doesn't have a large collection of clothes.

♤ -  Look-At-Me-I’m-Hella-Attractive Outfit

The few times he has dressed up a bit better was for nights out with friends (to meet girls, of course). His brother Mika having a better sense of fashion, he has offered a few suit to his brother, respecting his modesty and simplicity. Mads appreciates black pants with smoked white shirts, a jacket and a tie. Nothing too fancy, but definitely something he finds himself handsome in.

[distopea]

25. --for luck. (for WWII Mads)

@cantuscorvi

Kiss meme 💋

It was always a suspended and terrifying moment, when the alarm was ringing. The buzzing sound was echoing everywhere within the ship, announcing the new raid. The men called it the “Song of Death” for a reason. This time, there was no exercise; a Japanese flying troop had been noticed, and they were heading right in the direction of the large warship. Everyone was running everywhere, getting ready in time while they knew that perhaps, a few of them, if not everyone on the deck, wouldn’t see the new dawn. Some men were puking, some others were far more aggressive than usual, but the general mass was just following orders. In this mess, the two commanders, Raum and Mads, had no choice but to be a shield for their men. 

Raum was in charge of the pilots and the flying escort, preparing their munitions and the machine guns along with the complex engines of their planes. The navy and marines were focused on helping the pilots and preparing the torpedoes and missiles, making sure that everything was ready if they were attacked, even from below the surface. The menace of dispatched submarines was real, and in the end, no one felt prepared for such a military action. But they stayed focused. They had barely no time. In less than ten minutes, while the siren kept screaming over and over again, they would suffer from a rather dangerous attack. 

Orders were barked and Mads understood that the pilots were about to take off. Suddenly, realizing the potential death of someone in particular, he stopped his motions and looked around. Men were running, the deck was busy and crowded, but at some point, he saw Raum standing among the crowd and also looking in his direction. For the first time in a long time, he felt that wrench in the bottom of his guts, the commander facing the odds of their cruel fate.

Maybe it was the last time they would ever see each other. 

Mads clenched his fists and moved from his spot, making his way through the crowd, while Raum mimicked his behavior as well. Standing right in front of each other, Mads grabbed his collar, Raum’s hand already circling his wrists. Together, they fled to a hidden spot, just nearby the deck and behind turbines, where potentially no one would notice what was happening. It was just a matter of a few seconds; the only seconds they could ever snatch before duty would call. With the same motion, they both sealed their lips together. There was no urge to fight anymore, no point in petty war.

Mads registered everything; the sensation of his lips, the scent of his skin, the softness of his blond hair under his touch. He kissed him like he had never kissed anyone before, their everlasting rivalry melting into fear and hope and the silent promise to meet again. Mads only parted when he couldn’t breathe, his ocean eyes falling on the pilot’s features. It was the first time he thought that he had been the luckiest man to ever meet someone like him. He pinched his lips together, patted Raum’s shoulder. They were running out of time as their names were barked.

“Get them all, Red Devil.” He uttered and hesitated one last second, before running back to his squad, and silently praying for the first time. 

It couldn’t be their last day on Earth. 

[distopea]

The sound of the ship slicing through the waves permeated the air in a backdrop of white noise, like radio static. Up on deck, the sun beat down over their heads like they were ants under god’s magnifying glass. Raum fought the urge to repeatedly wipe the beads of sweat away from his forehead as he glanced over the troops. A warm day, a calm sea, a little bit of downtime for training, and they were practising close quarters combat techniques with some drills. It was a joint exercise between the two squads, also considered to be team-building, and so both squad leaders were present to oversee that everything went smoothly. They had paired everyone up for the exercises, one marine to one pilot, focusing on immobilisation techniques and disarming. It was fairly standard fare – although once the exercises were complete, the competitive spirit was building between the two groups and they had some time to spare. Eventually they had organised a little makeshift ring to spar in. Nothing too violent or bloody – that would go against the nature of team building – just three minutes, get your opponent out of the ring and you win.

It was a free for all, certainly entertaining to watch the lengths the men would go to claim victory. Everything from faux boxing matches, strange distraction techniques, to childish pushing and pulling – someone even tried to wedgie their opponent. Taunting, laughing, whistles, whoops and cheers sounded around the ring as each man tried to get the better of the other one. Until eventually they reached a stalemate – turning to the two leaders to settle the score. Raum had met Mads’ eyes and saw the little spark of challenge there, shook his head. Fuck, no. He’d never hear the end of it later.

Regardless, that’s how Raum found himself inside the little ring facing off a… Well. A Scottish fucking bear. He’d reluctantly stripped his jacket for the occasion, white t-shirt underneath still clinging to his spine with sweat while the sun beat down on them. Raum could feel the heat tingling on the back of his neck – starting to burn already. Mads looked hardly less worse for wear. The deck of the ship was his turf. He looked made for it. Confident and calm. Frankly – it made Raum a little jealous. Made him want to mess that composure up.

There was a palpable excitement around them, to watch the two leaders square off against each other, even just for fun. A couple of words of encouragement were sounded, jeering and humorous : ‘fuck him up, commander!’ , ‘no mercy, lieutenant!’. Raum huffed a laugh, pushed sweat-damp strands of hair out of his eyes so he could focus on his opponent.

“All right, let’s get this over with so they pipe down,” Raum rolled his shoulders and spread his feet into a wide stance, boots gliding on the hot metal tile. He lifted both arms, fists raised in front of his face, and faced off towards Mads. Despite himself, his heart was speeding up, excitement rushing in his blood. Raum flashed his teeth in a grin, and winked. He wanted to get under Mads' skin.

“Don't go easy on me now. I can take you. Show me what you got, big guy.”

@cantuscorvi

A little bit of violent exercise was perhaps a way for the soldiers to get rid of the lingering anxiety running on the deck. A boost for the ego, but also somehow their own tradition to remain fit, ready, battling with their fists when they couldn’t be anywhere else but on this large metallic ship. Even for Mads, that kind of exercise felt like a haven of peace, even if they weren’t appreciated nor encouraged by Stricker. Not that he was a brute in the first place, but in the middle of those men, it was more than necessary sometimes to dissolve tensions through a good old fight. Both the marines and the pilots had cohabited for a few months already, so it was only fair to assert dominance from time to time. 

With a rather cheerful grin, Mads was observing his troops in the middle of the ring. The temperature was awful today, even if he was used to the sunny weather; he still preferred the gloomy clouds of Scotland and almost missed its everlasting drizzle. Among the fighting men, he couldn’t help but eye his natural nemesis in the middle of those men, standing behind his comrades in arms, blue eyes sometimes flashing in his direction. It was a matter of time before the rest of the crowd would demand a fight between the commanders, and Mads was getting himself ready. He wanted to test his limits. 

At some point, both of them were pushed into the middle of the circle, oozing with confidence, but also a certain urge to fight. Mads had removed his jacket a long time ago, standing in his traditional white tank top, his marine pants and his boots. His black hair was plastered against his skull, and with an impatient whip of his hand, he removed a few droplets of sweat dripping down his forehead. “Oh, you want it hard? Come on, blondie.” He beckoned Raum to come closer, raising both of his fists and anchoring both of his feet to the ground. “Princesses like you don’t like sunburns. Come get your ass whooped before you turn into a lobster.” 

Even if the words were taunting, Mads could tell that there was mutual respect and a profound eagerness to show off and see the limits of their opponent. Despite his military training, he was still used to fighting like a little scumbag in the streets; techniques he had learnt from his brother who had the strength of a bear, and he hoped to surprise Raum with a few of them. They both took one step closer, and for the first seconds, they only try to attack the other one's defense with timid and testing punches.

‘Are you fighting or dancing?’ ‘Come on, it’s getting boring lads!’ The soldiers were still cheering at the top of their lungs, until both Raum and Mads decided to get closer. With the techniques they had probably learnt from their military training, they jumped to tackle the other one. Mads grunted and circled his arms around Raum, while the blond returned the favor. The main goal was to get the other one on the ground, using their weight and feet for that, and it was a matter of seconds before they both crashed on the deck in a loud clap. Soldiers yelled, excited. 

“Fucking wiggling like a worm!” Mads huffed as he tried to catch Raum’s arms to place him on his back. He plastered his own on the ground, despite the insufferable heat of the metal, using his feet as leverage, wrestling with the pilot as they rolled on the ground, grunting like two beasts in a cage. One fist flew in the air, and Mads saw blurry for a second, right after the impact against his temple. He retaliated immediately by knocking Raum’s arm behind his back, the two of them barely up on their legs before they would fall back on the deck. ‘Get him!’ ‘No aim for the balls, LT!’. Mads threw another punch inside Raum’s waist and they went back to try getting the upper hand by slamming the other one on the ground. 

“ATTENTION!” Another voice suddenly yelled from the entrance of the deck, all of the soldiers suddenly getting stiff and obeying while the rear-admiral Stricker, leader of the fleet, stepped closer, unable to hide his anger. Raum and Mads had no choice but to separate themselves, bloody, sweaty, and definitely frustrated. Even so, Mads couldn’t help but pull the pilot back on his feet before he stood to attention like the other of their troops. “Lieutenant Colonel Weiss, Commander Campbell, am I going fucking blind or did I just witness my two commanders rolling on the ground like two pigs?!” He barked at them, his eyes falling on their half-ripped clothes. “You’re both standing on the vessel of his Majesty… You should be ashamed of your behavior!” Mads opened his mouth but Stricker was quicker. “Shut your damn mouth, Campbell! I don’t know what the problem is with Weiss and I don’t want to hear about it, but if I have to tie you both to the deck until you start acting like men of your rank, I’ll go get the rope myself! 

He turned around, a lingering silence invading the deck. Mads inhaled, but he couldn’t help throwing an oddly conspirational look at Raum. “Weiss, Campbell, if you’re so eager to get rid of that testosterone, go run around the deck until we ring the dinner bell.” Stricker yelled again before he threw a look at the rest of the soldiers. “And for the rest of you, don’t you have tasks? Back to your stations! Dismissed!” 

[distopea]

❛  i know, alright, i know i'm an asshole. but i'm trying here.  ❜ ( for the WWII Mads! )

@cantuscorvi

𝑮𝑹𝑼𝑴𝑷𝒀 𝑿 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

Lone night drinking on the deck wasn’t something so strange for a soldier. The cruelty of war was that a lot of them would suffer from invisible marks, strangling their hopes and their sanity, until there was nothing left but an empty shell going home. Mads was somehow afraid to end up like this; each day felt like he was battling more than just enemies on the sea, horror and reality becoming his companions, whispering inside his mind. He wished that he wasn’t sensitive to this, but in the end, he was only a man. His anxiety was growing as much as his emotions were getting numb, the sensation quite unsettling, even for a commander like him. 

He heard a noise by his side, and he noticed that Raum was climbing the ladder to reach the upper deck, a bottle of cheap Whiskey trapped between his fingers. Mads had almost finished his own drink, his ocean eyes slightly empty when the blond eventually sat by his side. Was he feeling lonely as well? It was hard to tell. It was hard to understand anything coming from the pilot in the first place. There was a game of push and pull between them, from day one, but still, Mads wasn’t an idiot; he could perceive the mutual respect bonding them like an invisible knot. 

“Hey, fuck off.” Mads knocked Raum’s hand away, when he tried to reach for his glass. He imagined that he was looking drunk, and perhaps the other commander wanted to deprive him from his only source of hope. There was a lingering silence while Raum eventually poured more alcohol inside of Mads’ metallic cup, the cricks of the boat escorting them for a short time.Mads clenched his fist and eventually knocked it against Raum’s shoulder, until the blond spilled a little bit of the beverage onto his thighs. Mads was quicker to point a finger at Raum before he would actually argue. 

“You’re an ass, you know that? During the meeting earlier, half of my men were shitting their pants and almost refused to prepare the next raid because you were… So fucking cocky again.” He looked at Raum for a second, and then slowly lowered his finger, gripping his cup back from the blond's hand. “Everyday is getting so difficult. I see the fear in their eyes, I see the lack of commitment. They don’t know why they sacrifice themselves anymore, and to be honest, I’m running out of excuses. We’ve been here for so long, we all sleep with death by our sides. It would drive anyone crazy.” He paused for a bit, then took a sip of alcohol. “I don’t even know what to tell them anymore. They feel trapped in a vessel of death while all the American pilots might have a way out, flying away.” 

“I know, alright. I know I’m the asshole, but I’m trying here.” 

Mads chuckled to those words, locking a new cigarette at the corner of his lips even if he didn’t lighten it up yet. He pressed his back against the large pipe behind him, his eyes observing the stars for a second before his attention went back on Raum’s face. “Blondie, shut up. I dare you once more to play the martyr here, and I’ll shove my fist in your nose to give it a better shape.” He offered a sincere smile, then he bumped his thigh with the other one, before eventually keeping it right there, as he experienced the warmth of his body. “It rips my tongue to say it, but you’re not a bad pilot. And you’re not a bad man.” 

Gust of wind… Icy and cold, as he ignored his squeezed chest once more. He stared at Raum with a certain seriousness, his smile slowly fading. 

“I think you’re a good person.” 

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

“Say – Campbell. Have you decided?” Raum asked quietly while staring up into the dark nothingness of the room, knowing the ceiling was mere inches away and feeling all the more trapped for it. He could hear Mads breathing and shuffling below on his bunk, too restless to be asleep. Perhaps they were both suffering from that feeling tonight, some kind of anxiety settling in due to the coming operation they had all been preparing for. And so Raum had decided perhaps to make Mads suffer with him, or perhaps…not to be alone with his thoughts.

“What you’ll do, when all this… You know.” He gestured vaguely, before stupidly realising Mads couldn’t see it, then sighed towards the ceiling. “Blows over.”

It was almost hilariously optimistic, he realised, to assume that either of them would come out of this unscathed, perhaps even alive.  But that kind of optimism was the only way to keep going. Raum hummed, and rolled over onto his stomach, peeking his head over the top of the bunk to look down at Mads. It was still too dark to see more than his silhouette, but strangely he had the feeling of Mads’ eyes on him nonetheless.

“You got someone to go back to?”

It was a sleepless night it seemed. It was odd because the boat was quite stable on the Pacific, they weren’t suffering from that everlasting pitching that could make most of the men sick for hours. Mads, who was somehow used to these nights without rest, staring at the top bed right above his head, just a few inches away from his nose. It seemed that there was some activity up there – usually, Raum was a quiet sleeper. He wouldn’t talk or move too much, so it was easy to guess that he was awake as well. It was one of those nights, then. Full of torments, doubts, and hidden fears. After all, they had been trapped like rats for weeks now, waiting for a mission, an order, and potentially sacrificing themselves at war.

Raum eventually broke the silence. Mads had the reflex to look up, even if there was a bed base and a thin mattress covering his sight. They had never talked about what could happen after. After all, it was such a foreign word in terms of war, Mads had noticed more than once. Any human being was naturally driven by the future and its perspectives, but strangely, when they were at war, everyone was stuck in a rather gloomy present, unable to drift away from that. Mads sighed and folded one of his legs; it almost touched the upper part of the bed. “Strangely, it’s blurry.” Mads eventually answered, his voice meeting Raum’s somewhere in the dark.

Was it because they couldn’t see each other’s faces that they were suddenly so serious? 

“When I listen to the boys around here, they all want to come back home to get married and have a bunch of kids, repopulate the world and such… You know, get back to a passion too, have a job, forget the war but…” Mads swallowed his spite. He didn’t know Raum's state of mind, but a part of him was somehow certain he wasn’t among these people. He had seen him more than once eluding the topic, bragging about girls or adventures, but it was just a shallow thing to say so he could push aside what was probably printed in the back of his mind. “I don’t know… I think I’d like to see the world a bit. Maybe ride a bike, go to the States, so I can finally say that you fucking American can’t cook for shit unless it’s full of oil and fat… I’d love to have a smoke on the top hill of Hollywood and be at peace.”

Anywhere but Scotland, he thought. He went silent when Raum asked if Mads had someone to go back to. He remembered the last man he had embraced; it was his neighbor’s son, in the heat of the moment, when they had both been called to war and were soon to be deported, drinking under the porch just to ease the tension, while he was crying because he was scared to be killed. That boy was young, it was his first time. They had fucked in the barn of his old man, desperately, intensely, and they had never talked about it again. Alan MacTavish… He had seen his name in a report the other day when he was looking for traces of Mika. He had been killed on the Belgium field.

“No. I don’t.” Mads answered, shifting again on his squeaking bed. “You were right about me. I’m not the kind of man that girls fancy, you know.” He cleared his throat, while he imagined how many little blondes or brunettes would cry and run after Raum the moment he would dock somewhere. The way he might suddenly forget about this boat, continue his life, move on, and probably forget about everything, everyone… Mads included.

“You?” Mads felt the urge to know as well. He wished he could see Raum’s face, as if he wanted to be sure there was no mockery in his voice. As if he could read something else, like he had the sensation to perceive sometimes “I bet you got someone to go back to. Or a bunch.” 

Mads patted the side of his bed to find his pack of cigarettes. For a moment, the room was lightened by the crack of his match, and he saw the shadow of Raum against the wall. “What do you want to do, if we survive?”   

[distopea]

I also want the Raum/Mads child bc they will be the scariest and hottest mf in the room

@cantuscorvi

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child. (not accepting)

Name

Matthew “Matt” Weiss Campbell 

Gender

Male | He/Him 

General Appearance

The softest face in town, handsome in every way. Quite tall thanks to both of his parents, he also has a sportive look with developed thighs, biceps and chest. Matthew inherited the long face of Raum, but with the same thin nose from Mads, a rather masculine chin and jaw, but everything goes well together. His hair is dirty blond, slightly darker than Raum, even if there are a few locks that catch the sun just right. His eyes are closer from Mads’ color, a dark and intense blue, just like the ocean. 

Matthew looks angelic in many ways, but it fades as soon as he begins to smile - then he looks arrogant, deceiving, and definitely not trustworthy. He has simple tastes and loves to wear jeans and leather jacket, his favorite kind of colors between dark blue, pale blue, sand and navy. 

Personality

A sharp tongue hidden behind handsome features. Matthew is a very blunt individual and doesn’t like to have his life dictated, even less when it comes from his parents. He’s definitely leaning on Raum’s side when it comes to his general personality: he oozes with confidence, he has good social skills, and he’s perfectly able to mix himself with people, earn their trust, and fool around whenever he wants. 

However, Matthew definitely took on Mads’ side regarding his blunt and almost rude communication, and his high sense of justice. A certain justice he wants to use for himself, even if it means he appears as someone slightly too despotic sometimes. He has a huge problem with authority and doesn’t understand his parents choice of life joining the army. 

Special Talents

The best motorcycle rider in town and a natural talent for driving in general. 

Can fix almost any sort of vehicles, it’s quite his passion. 

Can speak German and Gaelic thanks to his parents, but he prefers to speak English in general. 

A certain talent to get himself into troubles. Matthew has the reputation of a scumbag or magnet problems kind of dude. 

He has a very very dangerous strength. Both of his parents are strong, but Matthew is almost leaning on his uncle side, Mika, who has a brutal and very hardcore fighting capacity. 

Who they like better

It’s hard for him to define his love for his parents. He loves them, but he’s also very much unhappy with the fact that they both drag too much attention since they are both males (and the time period is not very open-minded with that). He resented them for a long time, but now, he tends to be protective of them. He’s particularly sensitive to the homophobic remarks flying around, or the fact he has been himself discriminated too. 

However, Mads being far more severe with him, Matthew tends to prefer Raum during period of rebellion. 

Who they take after more

Raum taught him a lot of things regarding his personality: his way of speaking, his manners, his general assurance... 

Mads, on the other hand, taught him the values of justice, and comes from him that visceral urge to protect the people he cares about. 

His defiance is definitely a gift from them both. 

Personal Headcanon

Matthew is a real daredevil. He broke his limbs many times when he was young just because he was easily appealed with some childish bets with his friends. 

He wanted to start a Satanic rock band when he was a teen, just because he hated the priest downtown.

He burnt police cars more than once in the past. 

Just like Raum, he’s collecting sweethearts all over the country, and they receive ton of letters to their house.

He has a real hatred for the Army in general. He believes his parents changed a lot because of war. 

He has a very strong seasickness. 

Face Claim

Whoever is this babe! 

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

❝ here, it’ll help keep the swelling down. ❞ ( a bonus for Raum and Mads -- maybe helping each other patch up after an intense training ? 0w0 )

ANGST prompt list

He looked at the washcloth stuffed with ice offered by Raum with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Well… Even if smiling wasn’t recommended right now. Pride was always an issue between them since day one. They couldn’t help but surrender to it whenever they were facing each other, even when they were supposed to control their temper and prove that they were better men than anyone else. It was just impossible. Whether it was because of one look, one smirk, or simply because they were both oozing with that equal need to swagger, they once more ended up in a nasty fight. Not that it had been truly unfair… But surely, far too violent and passionate to be tolerated by their commandant for what was supposed to be a training session.

Injured, faces bruised, lips swollen, and body scratched, they had been violently dismissed by the Admiral, back to their small and ridiculous quarter. The two of them were too big for their shared cabin, and the punishment had probably been chosen on purpose. Still though… It hadn’t stopped Raum from wandering quietly to the kitchen hall to retrieve a bit of ice for their swollen cheeks, before they would have to spend the entire evening trapped inside their coffin.

“It’s been a while since I wasn’t grounded by the Commandant.” Mads chuckled while he extended his fingers, catching the washcloth. His face was hurting like hell – Raum was strong when it came to fight – but oddly he believed they had fun. He pressed the wet fabric against his cheek and exhaled. “Fuck… Didn’t know you missed your dentist career for trying to remove my teeth like that.”

The tension was gone. It was as if they had been able to exorcise all that testosterone out of their system, a certain peace invading the atmosphere. Mads hummed and sat onto the bottom bed, once more silently upset with that forced proximity between the two of them, their knees close from one another. He didn’t like the effect it had upon him. Nevertheless, it was new they wouldn’t fight nor bicker as soon as they would evolve in the same space, and for that, Mads was thankful. He sniffed, his nose still bloody, before he eventually eyed that tiny space by his side.

“Sit down. Don’t stay up if you’re dizzy, the pitching will make you sick.” He invited while he closed his eyes, pushing on his arms to drag his body until his back would meet the wall, before he extended his legs in front of him. He pressed the washcloth over his damaged features, then opened his eyes to observe Raum. 

“You know… For a pilot you’re not that bad at fighting.” He tried to smile but it turned into a grimace of pain. “Was it because you had to defend yourself when you were a kid?” The question was genuine, without any form of provocation. For once, they were chatting like equals.

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi​ from here 

All he could focus on was the shape of Raum’s wide shoulders under the whiteness of his shirt. Whether he wanted it or not, there was a fire that had been lightened up the moment he had slapped the mop across his face and chest, provoking sensations he thought that he could fight for so long. Nothing in their confrontation or the bitter words of the pilot could make him think about anything else but the soaped water dripping down his skin, nor the way his shirt was plastered right against his muscles. Nothing. Not even his provocations, his attempt of returning the favor with another well-deserved slap.

It was the sound of the falling bucket that had been working like a bell between them. Mads’ motions were driven by his instincts and reflexes, but his thoughts and mind had left the ship just a few minutes before. He didn’t even anticipate the way Raum flew away from the room, getting deeper inside the lockers to fill the bucket with more water, suddenly so dedicated to his duty. This time, it was that his feet betrayed him. Soon enough he was standing right behind the other one, barely able to refrain his profound nature from the sight presented here.

He wanted him.

He didn’t know why and how, nor for what, but it was screaming inside of his mind like dozens of choirs in the middle of a crowded church. Something in Raum’s attitude, perhaps a way in him that he couldn’t explain, but he wanted him, either to shut him, to bend him down, to touch him or worse. Mads barely said anything, just a little apology for the shirt, but he wasn’t even thinking. He could only face the stubborn and upset eyes of his rival, quite electrical in the middle of this cold room, and he knew, oh too well, that they only needed one push to jump off that cliff again.

Touching wasn’t natural; it was needed. A requirement to soothe his burning soul, a shaky breathing escaping his throat. He was dwelling harder on the impossibility to reason himself, to step away from that mess, to be more responsible than the other one… Because he knew that, out of challenge, pettiness or equal desire, Raum would eventually take the lead. He hated to lose; he wanted to be a part of the game, and win it. Raum’s don’t was nothing but hidden please, and deep down within, even a sailor like Mads couldn’t help but listen to that siren call.

And so, he did; so, they jumped off that cliff. In the nothingness of a river of metal and soaped cold floor, once more, they were colliding like two star-crossed lovers melting in another kiss. Passion was gentle but this time overly suffocating, pinning needles in their pressed bodies, deep until it touched their bones. He didn’t know where and how to stop, or if stopping was an option. He devoured his mouth the way he would need oxygen, only to be pushed away all over again. Raum hadn’t slapped him with the mop but it felt the same. Mads inhaled, lengthily.

“As if cleaning the floor was your priority. Hypocrite… You’re just flying away again!” He snarled, his body immediately crossing the distance again, because it was too painful to stay away, because he couldn’t bear to stop that nonsense once more. He watched the way Raum was gripping that bucket of water before he eventually grabbed it and threw it down in a loud metallic sound echoing against the walls. “Here. All clean now, you happy?” He stated in a long cold stare, consumed by what he had been forced to restrain for too long.

“No.” He said before Raum would try to shove him away again, another step bringing both of their bodies almost glued together. It was his plea, his real apology through the harshness of his voice. He lowered his tone again, his gestures slower when he rolled his fingers around the buckle of his belt, his deep and intense blue eyes focused on his features. “No…” Mads uttered in a soft whisper, expertly opening the other one’s zipper, the tip of his fingers brushing what he had been desperately looking for.

[distopea]

> @cantuscorvi​ !! 

He knew the inside of the ship by heart – he had walked these corridors thousands of times already. The HMS Victorious wasn’t probably the largest carrier in the ocean, but its reputation and efficiency were good, and she had proven to be a very efficient ship during the first months of training. Good enough to drag the attention of the American, even more since there were rumors regarding a potential attack near the Philippines, probably from the Japanese, notorious allies of the Germans in this crazy war. Another reason why the Team 10 of the Yellow Dogs, ordered by the well-known Commander “Ice Bear” Mads Campbell, had been dispatched in Hawaii, tagging along with the Red Devils, a reputed pilot’s squad from America.

Everything could have gone smoothly if only the two leaders of the Red Devils and the Yellow Dogs hadn’t attacked each other at the throats right from the beginning. Mads was a famous man for being short-tempered and moody, but surely, since Raum Weiss had crossed his way, he was even more irritable. They had set sail for a first training session all together in the agitated Pacific Ocean, preparing their assault in case the Japanese menace would become effective. Yet, with the presence of several squads, the spaces into the living quarters of the ship were severely reduced and Mads was already anticipating some bad news when he headed to the Rear Admiral Stricker’s office.

He briefly knocked on the door, entering the office with an impassive face, even if he was quite unhappy to see that the US blondie had made his way here already. Tsk, Mads threw him another cold glare, definitely not trying to hide the fact he was very reluctant to have a German pig pretending to be defending the interests of the Allies on his ship. It was such a sketch. “Commander Campbell reporting. You have summoned me, Rear Admiral?”. Mads saluted, even if he knew that he wasn’t the only one requested in the office right now. He was even more tense, but he needed to remain unshaken.

“Yes, Commander Campbell, Lieutenant Colonel Weiss, you may have noticed we are crowded on the Victorious, and we need you to pair up your squads. We can’t operate this mission without a good brotherhood mentality on board. They will all share rooms from now on.” The Rear Admiral spoke, Mads already sensing where this was going. He remained still, but he almost felt the urge to clench his fist. If the American and British folks were supposed to be parked together, it only meant… “I require the two of you to set an example for your men. Commander Campbell, you’ll welcome Lieutenant Colonel Weiss from now on in your private quarters.”

Mads pinched his lips together, a sudden wave of anger traveling his entire body. He stepped forward, trying his best to remain polite, even if his tone was barely more friendly than a hissing serpent. 

“With respect, Rear Admiral Stricker, are you sure about that?” He knew he would receive that kind of stare as soon as he would pronounce these words, but he would actually prefer jumping off board rather than sharing his personal space with that arrogant flying bitch. 

[distopea]

Tag dumb, Mads private AU 

[distopea]

can’t believe I need to go through all over the manwha again because I DON’T HAVE THESE ICONS OF HIM?

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi

“You always do that. Pull away when I get close. What are you afraid of?” ( THIS one, Raum > Mads 😌 )

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ♡ (not accepting)

The whole ship was truly a nightmare in terms of proximity. The space reserved for the military forces was narrow, almost unbearable, even more so when the whole ship was crowded with two divisions instead of one. The mood and the energy of the residents were quite low and Mads truly couldn’t blame them for their lack of enthusiasm and their general aggressive behaviors. Yet, they all managed to behave as much as they could in that strange worldwide situation, pushing Mads to be an example for his men, even if it was, for him, even more complicated with Raum.

He didn’t know why, but an odd tension had been blooming between the two of them. A game of frustration, forbidden thoughts and behaviors, a deadly cocktail for someone who had always doubted his sexuality. Mads wanted to surrender to this alarming need, but because he was terrified to expose himself, because he had always managed to keep his secret safe. He could always pull himself away, pretending that he needed to go, but of course, Raum was persistent in his actions. Even on that matter.

“Weiss… Move.” He repeated again, even if Raum’s question was more than legitimate. They were both standing so close right now, inside the narrowness of their shared room. He didn’t have much space to slide himself to the sink, and while the blond was standing in front of him, Mads discovered he had a very hard time controlling his hands. He sighed, peering down at the flying commander with exhaustion, before he eventually cupped his waist, the pad of his thumbs gently brushing it.

“I’m pulling away because it’s stupid and reckless to ever desire that. It’s fucking against nature.” He whispered, and as if he had been electrified by that touch, he eventually withdrew his hands. He leant against the metallic frame of the wall, observing Raum with agony, inhaling. “Aren’t you into women after all? It’s just the war… We’re exhausted and we don’t think straight.” Mads tried to argue again, but Raum wasn’t pulling away on his side. He was still there… still so close.

“Shit.” Mads cursed when he eventually stepped forward and cupped the man’s cheeks, his forehead pressed against him, their lips so close from one another. They never had touched each other so intimately before, and yet, Mads knew that it couldn’t be enough. That he would always desire more. His whole body was burning with need and passion, and slowly, he felt that he was drifting into that state of desire, his lack of drunkenness in this situation definitely scary. He breathed intensely, peered at Raum with agony, slowly leaning to kiss him… 

“Weiss! Campbell!” The slam on their door made them both jolted as they immediately parted and bumped into the furniture of the room. “On the deck, right now!” The rear-admiral roared behind the door.