#hans golem blaustein

[cerosin-bis]

*rolls up sleeves*

okay. we've had your headcanons on kruegergolem.... but not on only golem so. what are your thoughts on our friend hans 'golem' blaustein :)c

FINALLY... FINALLY I HAVE AN EXCUSE TALK MORE ABT GOLEM... To celebrate here's him unrendered with his face bare (he's sososo cute). my thoughts are that I love him

So here are some Golem headcanons!! Writing him in fics made me love him ten times more. he's a very very interesting character imo.

Good guitar player and decent bass player. Both electric and acoustic!

Golem IS a metalhead. He has so many washed-out band t-shirts that he refuses to get rid of because he got them at gigs or concerts and they are nice souvenirs!!! (you can't even make out the band name anymore)

Resilient and cold-headed by nature, but has tendency to fall into unhealthy coping mechanisms (such as willingly overworking himself, drinking, smoking more)

Has a weed problem. There are times where he will smoke more (if he's stressed) or less (if he's very busy) but he cannot kick off the habit. he needs half a joint to sleep.

Dry sense of humour.

Literally the best leader figure you can dream of. He's smart and knows how to make people listen to him but he's also affable, caring - selfless, but reasonably, and a very very good mentor.

That also makes him a good father too bad he's in the military

Hans is a perfectionist with extremely high expectations but mostly for himself only. Comes from his education, the will not to disappoint, and the fact that he's the only one of his two brothers who pursued his family tradition of making a career in the special forces.

Jewish, though that bit is technically canon. usually does not celebrate christian holidays but he does for his daughter that he loves vvv much. by 2020/mw19, she's 5-6 in my hc...

Golem likes hunting trips. alone. they're akin to meditation for him. He hunts with a bow when he can, and always uses every part of the animal - cooking, crafting, etc. It's extremely important to him.

all of @modernghostfare 's Golem headcanons also. They're worded perfectly please read them.

[rawstfish]

I re-drew a Golem I did a while ago

Little headcanon moment: Wyatt gave Golem that sweater and those socks. Golem obviously wears them because he's sentimental like that

[loge2718]

This definitely happened during Armistice days...

[shadow0-1]

closer than most

[papaver-decervicatus]

July Showers, August Flowers

Angst, barely any comfort, AU Mouse?/Konig? mentions of child death, unplanned pregnancy, etc. More info below

So, a couple times I had mentioned how Mouse became sort of an OC to me, and for whatever reason, the angst was really hitting me last night so I whipped out this. Brief timeline/overview

Lucretia "Mouse" Jehnnings- US Marine Sniper Scout and Clandestine Insertions specialist gets partnered up with Julius "König" Doss, insertions specialist for the Austrian Special Forces in 2014. The two work well together, slow burn, they fall in love, you get the idea. In 2015, Mouse gets shot in the field and her comrade, the newly promoted Captain Price, tells Hans "Golem" Blaustein that Mouse died in combat (so she can assume an espionage role.) Hans relays this info to König, who abandons his plans of retirement and eventually works for KorTac under the assumption that Mouse is dead. König pulls a similar stunt and 'dies' legally to continue his work. Mouse is told that he is dead as well. They both live under the assumption that the other has died. In 2023, Mouse joins SpecGru under the insistence of Captain Price. She recognizes König in the field and this is the first meeting in years. They're like. Late 30s here, but they met at mid 20s.

Sorry for the long explanation! I promise it makes more sense in my head. Anyways, very self indulgent and has no bearing on C/M/D, but, functionally, Mouse and König are the same characters, just with identities explored.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shuts the door behind her with a characteristic quietness, and she doesn’t so much as turn to the entryway as she redoes the locks behind her. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mouse lies.

König knows it’s a lie. This is how Lucretia lies. With her eyes cast down, her lip bloody in her teeth, her elegant shoulders collapsing in on her small frame. All these years later she doesn’t look all that much different, perhaps it’s his own age talking but there’s something so effortlessly charming in her smile lines and crow's feet. The red light leaking down onto her in the dim room creates a shadowy contrast on her face. He can still count her freckles. She never got her nose corrected, it’s still slightly crooked. Her lip scar, the one he tasted when it was fresh, has healed itself into a satisfying silver sliver. 

But for every similarity to his Maus, this Mouse carries a difference. Her hair is a little thinner, it’s certainly longer than he ever knew it to be. She has a much larger scar that strikes through her right, but still unharmed, eye. She has more ear piercings and tattoos littered about what little skin he’s had the privilege to see. 

She’s dressed to the nines in her combat uniform, it’s unlike any he’d have known her in a near decade ago. It’s dark, it’s stylized, she’s littered it with little insignias of herself. A dagger symbol rests on her tac-vest guarding her heart. His own heart wonders what look her face would make if she were to see the dagger he got on his own sternum, a sullen memorial to a long-dead lover complete with edelweiss insignia and her favorite poppies.

This is Mouse. Not Maus. Not Lucretia. He tries to separate them in his mind. 

He fails, he just wants the woman in front of him in his arms again, no matter if she’s different than how he knew her. She’s still Mouse the Sniper, she’s still the muse of every late-night memory that haunts him, still what he fights for, still what he wants. 

“Price told me,” König warns. His body starts to shake. He doesn’t know what answer, if any, he wants. 

“Yeah well. He told me you were dead.” Her wonderful, honey-brown eyes pierce daggers into his. In this light, she looks like some chthonic succubus, ready to steal his soul and spit his discarded body out, bloody, but still alive. 

“Hans told me the same of you.” He says. What he means is I died when they told me as much. I haven’t been alive since I found out Lucretia Jehnnings died from a gunshot to the abdomen. Krueger had to peel me off the floor. I bought a ring for you. I was going to ask you to be Lucretia or Jenny Doss, it didn’t even matter if you took my last name as long as you were mine. I haven’t felt that way since you died, hell I haven’t been a person since you left, just this monster. I want to kill Hans and put his body at your feet. He lied to me, you’re alive but I’ll never forgive myself for our time apart.

She shudders and unwraps her make-shift gause face mask from her hands and re-wraps it in an idly attempt at comfort. He remembers when she used to do the same with her bandana. So much is different, but nothing’s really changed, now has it?

“How did he tell you I went?” She asks, eyes still trained on their target. He swallows the bile rising in his throat. She is breaking apart at the seams, but he will not let her think he is too fragile to hold her together. “Abdomen. Gunshot.” He clips out, short and breathless. A humorless laugh escapes her lips in return.

“Someone died from that all right,” she says, through tears and hiccuping laughter. She slips her sniper’s cowl off her shoulder, exposing her right forearm. She steps closer to him and, just like all those years ago, he lets her approach him, all too weary to scare such a lovely prey animal off.

She exposes the arm to him. Between the scarring, intentional and otherwise, pure black flowers curl in between themselves. Edelweiss, poppies, morning glories, forget-me-nots, and baby’s breath tangle around a name and date. Augusta. 

When he looks into her now overflowing eyes for permission, he slips his hood off when she nods yes. He expects confusion, ire, resentment, disgust, and a million other things to cross her face when she sees him again, the monster that he’s been without her.

Instead, she silently cries harder and shudders when he presses a few sad kisses to the tattoo. He breathes in her smell and soaks in her warmth as if to remind himself that she really is here and this isn’t just his deepest fantasy played out in the night again. She still smells like cinnamon and mint. She’s still warm to the touch.

“Would you have told me if you knew I was alive?” Anger rises in his stomach, at Price, at Hans, at the US and Austrian governments for perpetrating such a lie, but not at her, never at her. He pushes it down, resolved to know that he will make all the conspirators pay in due time. Right now, he focuses on the bittersweet joy of having his own life back in arm’s reach.

“No, I-” she shivers and digs her nails into her arm so fiercely he worries she will draw blood. “I couldn’t face you.” She backs away from him and he lets her retreat. It pains him to lose contact but he knows chasing her will only compound the hurt. 

Still, his mind reels in confusion. What reason could she possibly give to have him be upset? He wants to twine her in his arms somewhere far away, to never let her go, to shield her from every future injustice dished out by a world that has already battered her so badly.

“Why?”

“Because I failed, Julius!” She shouts, body shaking and voice trembling. “First I failed as a soldier, I put myself into some stupid fucking situation and got shot. Then I failed as a woman because I didn’t even recognize- who wouldn’t fucking know? How could any woman miss that?” Her loud voice dips into quiet pain and she sinks to her knees in front of him. “And lastly, I failed you.” He follows her onto the floor and sits in front of her, listening to her line of reasoning, no matter how badly he wants to shout at her about how wrong she is. “Lucre-” “No, Julius, I did. I failed you, I thought, this is awful, but I thought-” She takes in a shuddering breath and her words find a steadier cadence. “I thought to myself, ‘at least Julius is dead. At least I don’t have to tell him how badly I fucked up. At least it’s all my fault, at least they’re alr-” she chokes and takes a moment to collect herself. “At least, you could hold her when I couldn’t. At least you could take care of her when I clearly couldn’t and didn’t deserve to.”

He cannot hold himself back anymore and he lunges at her to grab her in his arms. She knocks over and he pins both her hands above her head and steadies her gaze to his with his other hand guiding her chin.  “Don’t ever say that again!” He shouts, some new angry passion thrashing at his ribs to be let out into the world. “You did not fail, I am the only failure here. If I had known, I never would have let you suffer alone!” He hisses. She closes her eyes and more tears squeeze onto her cheeks. “But you didn’t know-” “And neither did you!” His chest heaves and his heavy heart hits the floor and shatters when she opens her eyes back to his. Now it’s his turn to fall apart, he lets her wrists go and he lays down on his side, maneuvering her body to lay with him the same way. 

She still fits perfectly in his arms after all this time.

He cradles the back of her head into the juncture of his heart and jaw. One of her hands finds his cheek and strokes it. “I am sorry,” he prays into the cold room. She nuzzles closer to him and whispers it back.

Once her trembling stutters to a stop, she unwinds herself ever-so-slightly from his grip and traces his sightline to the exposed tattoo.

“I’m sorry, I had no clue what you would have wanted. It was August 1st and I thought, well Julius Caesar, Caesar Augustus, and…” She trails off and her gaze falls to somewhere on the floor. He strokes her cheek as he turns her eyes back to his.

“Augusta Doss is a perfect name.” He whispers, arms embracing her closer to him yet again.

“She was perfect,” Mouse sobs into his chest, shaking like a boat battered by a summer storm.

He never liked Price and was always at least a little weary of Hans. At this moment, König can think of only one thing he wants more than to rip them apart with his bare hands for what their lies have kept him from and done to his love, and it's to keep holding her until she stops crying.

“Just like her mother,” König responds, holding her steady like a rock holds steady in the sea.

[diimaria]

Golem is proud of being a great story teller. Thankfully he has the best listener too 💖

[modernghostfare]

have a little golem/kreuger fic ! its nsfw but the nsfw is not really the focus of the fic. golem does get a handjob that he fucks up though. 1,582 words

Golem watched as the helicopters departed with the rest of his crew and the extra members they took on today. They had been assigned a huge mission, not so much complicated but against a well stocked army, so parts of Chimera had been asked to come along. Altogether, it took two helicopters and a truck to drop them off, and another two helicopters and a truck to pick them up. Both times, Golem had opted to drive the truck.

Kreuger stood beside him this time, deciding it would “be best” if he accompanied his “old friend” back to base instead of Farah like before. Golem was too tired to argue.

“Well, Hans,” Kreuger said beside him, sickeningly sweet. “Are you ready to go?”

Golem only grunted for a response. He made his way to the truck, slow and sore from running, throwing himself over barricades, throwing grenades, holding his heavy gun steady to provide cover. Kreuger walked light beside him, no worse for wear from the day’s work. He had pep in his step, a brisk pace. “Seem a little slow today. Sir.”

Golem stayed silent.

“Sir. My brother,” he slips into Golem’s native tongue.

“I’m tired, Kreuger.”

“Ahaa,” Kreuger chuckles at that. “So we get you back to base.”

“Hm.”

“Want me to drive us? It’s no problem,” Kreuger kicks at him, picking up his pace to beat Golem to the truck. He gets to the door, grabs hold of the handle, then turns to watch Golem make his way over. He leans back against the door, crosses his legs at the ankles. “So slow, my brother.”

He can hear his smirk, see it in the way his shoulders are so lax. It’s odd to think Kreuger is opening up to him more, showing more of his true person to Golem here, now, in Verdansk. In Germany, in the KSK, his front was so odd to him, like a perfect protege had been dropped in his lap. The spark in his eyes had perhaps been more akin to a wild dog spotting his next meal rather than the look of someone who had found his place. Under the net, in the falling twilight of the day, Kreugers face is a dark mesh of shadows, hidden like a bride.

They’ve had missions together here before, the shock of meeting him once again has worn off, giving way to a renewal of the disgust he felt years past to learn he was guarding a murderer. And allowed him another murder. Golem’s body felt heavy, like a stone sinking through water. 

“Hans, you look so stressed,” Kreuger sighs out. “You better sleep tonight.”

"That is the plan."

"Hmmm," Kreuger slips a hand under his net to play with his chin. Or stroke his own lips perhaps. "Do you sleep alone now, Hans?"

Golem squints at him. He stands a foot away from him at the car now, maybe closer than he should be to this animal. "Don't you? This is work, Kreuger."

"Not what I meant."

"What are you asking me?"

"I heard about you and your wife."

Golem stares at him. He crosses his arms, keeps his glare steady. "What about her?"

"What was it, hm? Not long after me you had asked for a divorce?"

"I didn't ask."

"She did? Oh," he says curtly. "Was that upsetting?"

"What do you think?"

"More upsetting than me?"

"What are you doing? Ranking yourself?"

"Hmm," Kreuger ponders aloud. "Perhaps."

"That's pointless."

"Your silence is pointless, Golem. It speaks more than a simple yes or no would have."

Golem doesn't respond. He stays standing with his arms firmly crossed, using his single inch of height over the man to its full advantage. Kreuger remains unperturbed, contently ranking Golems litany of failures one by one, adding to his list of faults and missteps.

"What do you do with yourself, Hans," Kreuger tsks, "to relieve all of your stress?"

"None of your business."

"I know you smoke." He leans in, the dying sun catching on his eyes, offering that fucking gleam. "I can smell it."

Golem huffs. He's already upset with himself for not cleaning his bong before leaving, foolishly confident that this time he could handle being in the scrawny man's presence. Another tick on his list. Ever growing.

"But that is so fleeting, Hans," he rolls his name off his tongue like it's made for him to say. He sounds more like he's happily bragging about Golem rather than the mocking he is doing. "Do you want more?"

Golem can feel his spine tingling, he takes a moment to stand on his tippy toes with the electricity of it, sighs out as he stands back flat.

"I don't."

"You do."

"Nothing from you."

Kreuger pulls back in faux hurt, "you wound me. Hans." Rolling it, savoring it.

"You're not offering anything real anyway."

"You know that for sure?" Kreuger pulls his shoulders together, forward, to inch closer to Golem, leaning under him more. "It is just us here after all."

Golem clicks his tongue as he opens his mouth to speak, closes it instead, looks to the side of his head to think. He blinks once, closes his mouth, watches the clouds ease by in the reflection of the truck's window. He's aware, vaguely, of Kreuger's hand coming to his waistband, digging a finger into his pocket and tugging him closer. Golem follows, looking back to where he knows his eyes are.

"I do not enjoy being a toy."

"Hans," Kreuger continues, ignoring him. "When you caught me I had to run. I've never been able to give you proper thanks." His hands wander to the button of his jeans, popping it open with ease. He grabs at the zipper next, pulls it down slowly as he speaks, "I know that must bother you. You spent all that time, and we never got a moment alone."

"It does not," he lies boldly, pointlessly. His entire career past that paint a blatant sign that he does. No one said they could blame him, but the slights to his record after Josef's exposure, the rumours he let run rampant, even as they reached his wife. Punishment.

Kreuger simply chuckles. Funny. "Well, it bothers me," a lie for a lie. "So shall I?"

"I don't know what you have planned. I never do."

"Can't be that hard to figure," Kreuger mumbles as he reaches his hand inside Golem's pants. Golem exhales like his lungs are being examined, watches as Kreuger pulls his soft dick out, holds it firm, cranes his head up to look him square in the face. "Hm?"

Golem felt his cheeks redden, words caught in his throat. The rough and hard material of Kreuger's glove is cool to the sensitive skin of his cock, warm only slightly from body heat.

"I'm not going to ask."

"Then I'll just do it," Kreuger coos as he strokes once, up, down, watching as Golem's breath catches again. The grooves of the glove, splits on the surface from wear and tear, tug at his skin. He pulls back tight, to the base, revealing the head of Golem's dick, slick already with precum from the slightest tease of Kreuger under him, taking dick on the hard ground. Net pulled back, a finger in his mouth, hooked in one side to feel him drool over it, drool over Hans as he fucks him into the ground.

Kreuger strokes him again, keeps Golem still at a distance from him, and picks up his pace a little. Golem feels like he's heaving in air, balling his hands up into fists, overwhelmed already from just the pace and tight grip of him. His cheeks flush, balls already tightening, ready to cum, to spill into Kreuger's hand, or over his face, or onto his back, or his chest. Years of fantasy played out before him, here now five strokes in. Kreuger strokes to the base again, grips him tight, brings his other hand to Golem's cock to rub his thumb over his wet slit, holding the tip firmly.

Once. Twice. He opens his mouth to say something to Golem, stops with a short, "Oh!" as Golem cums in his hand, hips stuttering forward as he strains out a terse groan.

Kreuger laughs. He pulls his hands away quickly, shakes it to get the cum off of him. "Oh, Hans," he laughs again.

"I-I'm not finished," Golem stutters. Pathetically, he feels his eyes water, blush spreading to his ears. "That was-"

"Hans," Kreuger slaps at his waist, keeps his hand there to rub the mess onto Golem's gear. "You look plenty satisfied. And without even taking off my glove," he mused. "Knew it would not be worth it."

"I'm not done!"

The sun catches Kreuger's eyes again as he looks up at Golem. He holds his stare, blinks once before looking away and chuckling, dark and cruel. "I think I'll walk back to base."

"Jose--Sebastian,-"

"Should maybe put your dick back up," Kreuger says as he moves away from the truck. Quickly, ignoring Golem's grab and subsequent plea of "please," he toys around with his gun hanging still from the clasp of his belt. Gritting his teeth, Golem does as he's told, packing himself back in, making a final grab for Kreuger as he begins his long walk, whimpering like a kicked dog as he watches him leave.

Eventually, half an hour after Kreuger has disappeared into the abandoned city of Verdansk, Golem takes his own leave.

[mortal-kombattore-115]

they vibin 

[x-feuerwolf-x]

GIFs no one asked for (but I have them so here you go)

Warcom

Talon

Dominique “Domino” Tam

Hans “Golem” Blaustein

Jackson Wyatt

Mara

Daniel “Ronin” Shinoda

Sergio “Morte” Sulla

Alex

[thatplanehopperofsigil]

" We weren't all made for this. "

yo,sry for poor details cuz his ghillie is so hard to draw and I tried : (

[vampsquerade]

Requests Rules (Current Status: Open)

Characters Per Request for headcanons: Maximum of 2.

Characters Per Story: Maximum of 4 (all characters will be partners with the reader; exceptions can and will be made if i like it enough).

Characters Per NSFW Alphabet: Maximum of 1

Characters Per SFW Alphabet: Maximum of 1

Please be as specific as you can when requesting as it helps me with my writing

Please specify whether you want headcanons or an x reader, so I don’t accidentally write something you didn’t want

Requests are now open for a short time! Please just read my rules and request accordingly!

Characters I’ll Write For: Rainbow Six Siege/Extraction and Call of Duty. This may change later on, however, once I feel like branching out!

Rainbow Six Siege/Extraction:

Chul Kyung “Vigil” Hwa

Olivier “Lion” Flament

Erik “Maverick” Thorn

Jordan “Thermite” Trace

Miles “Castle” Campbell

Gustave “Doc” Kateb

Gilles “Montagne” Touré

Julien “Rook” Nizan

Saif “Oryx” Al Hadid

Dominic “Bandit” Brunsmeier

Elias “Blitz” Kötz

Marius “Jäger” Streicher

Sébastien “Buck” Côte

Håvard “Ace” Haugland

Mark “Mute” Chandar

Mike “Thatcher” Baker

James “Smoke” Porter

Seamus “Sledge” Cowden

César “Goyo” Ruiz Hernández

Masaru “Echo” Enatsu

Liu Tze “Lesion” Long

Collinn “Warden” McKinley

Aleksandr “Tachanka” Senaviev

Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda

Timur “Glaz” Glazkov

Shuhrat “Fuze” Kessikbayev

Ryad “Jackal” Ramírez Al-Hassar

Call of Duty:

John “Soap” MacTavish

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Captain John Price

Phillip Graves

Talon

König

Hong-jin “Horangi” Kim

Zhiqiang “Zimo” Wong

Jesus “Chuy” Ordaz

Enzo Reyes

Sobieslaw “Gromsko” Kościuszko

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Sebastian “Krueger” Krueger

Hans “Golem” Blaustein

Benjamin “Otter” Lee

Jackson Wyatt

Valeria “El Sin Nombre” Garza

Alejandro Vargas

Alex Keller

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

Sergio “Morte” Sulla

Vladimir Makarov

Thibault “Riptide” Lefebre

Roland “Swagger” Kaminski

What I Will Write:

Fluff

Light Smut (Vanilla)

Heavy Smut (Hardcore: dubcon, consensual non-con, and somnophilia are allowed under the circumstances that you explicitly specify that reader in the scenario will be consenting to it. if you aren’t comfortable requesting or reading that there will be time for you to scroll away. Doing this has helped me with my trauma.)

Angst (good, neutral, and bad endings)

NSFW Alphabets

SFW Alphabets

Character/Reader: Friends to Lovers

Character/Reader: Enemies to Lovers

Sick Character or Sick Reader

Gender Neutral, Female, and Male Readers

Mental Health (c-PTSD, Depression, Insomnia, and Anxiety will be the only ones I write about because those are of the few things I have been diagnosed with. I am not romanticizing these at all, keep that in mind)

Omegaverse (Alpha/Beta/Omega Character or Alpha/Beta/Omega Reader)

Monsterfucking

Multiple Partners (Exceptions will sometimes be made if I like the prompt enough)

Substance Use (only weed and alcohol)

Cheating and Toxic Relationships (My therapist has recommended I try to write stuff that helps ease off the trauma I’ve gotten from these)

Stalking

What I Will NOT Write:

Incest

Blatant Rape

Domestic Abuse

Child Abuse

Animal Abuse

Racism

Transphobia

Homophobia

Torture

Comforting Self-Harm (I used to allow this one but I’ve been in therapy for this for a good while now and it will trigger a relapse if I ever write for it again. Very slim chances of me writing for prompts like these ever again)

Suicide (Very, very, very slim chances of me ever making an exception for it)

Any obscure or gross fetishes/kinks

Character/Character (Exceptions can be made for this though!)

Pregnancy (I never properly addressed or clarified any of this and would like to apologize for what it was previously listed as. I am avoiding fetishization of anybody who can get pregnant because I have received 2 asks by the same person back in August and as you can tell, I never wrote them because they were offensive fetish prompts centered around stereotypes. There are no exceptions for this one)

Thank you very much for requesting!!

[cerosin-bis]

Hello! I saw a while ago you had some headcanons on golem, do u have any other thoughts on him?

ALWAYS room for more Golem headcanons. Brother I love him so much it's unreal. first Golem hcs here!

Bit of a snob about doing things his way, especially chores like cleaning or organising stuff.

Tea drinker (but only green or white)

Initially wanted to be a combat engineer, though he ended up losing interest and specialised as the weapons expert upon forming his KSK squad.

Likes swimming in lakes (hates the sea). When he brings his daughter to the lake though you bet even if she has floaters he is STRESSING about it. He's not an overprotective father but water is treacherous.

Nice handwriting, but tiny. he writes tiny tiny letters.

I said he plays guitar well... guess what.. he also sings well. He doesn't like his tone/voice at all though so he's embarrassed and he'll never sing in front of anybody. But he can sing!

tiny bonus golem pic

[rawstfish]

Since the Bale twins and Golem are announcers, I'm doing how their desk looks headcanons

Bale: he has magazines and papers all over his desk. It looks messy, but he knows exactly where everything is. A few empty bottles and coffee mugs here and there.

Minotaur: he has framed pictures of his kids on his desk, which makes him keep his desk extremely clean. He has stickers that are peeling and fading that he put on there. His bottle for his protein shakes is ALWAYS on his desk.

Golem: He has his weed and joints spread all over his desk. Along with bags of chips and other he hasn't thrown away. He keeps a picture of his daughter in his desk.

[loge2718]

Lt. Hans Golem Blaustein Doodles

[shadow0-1]

"I don't have to worry about you, do I?"

[rawstfish]

Girlfailure's in CoD are: Golem, Thorne, Alejandro, Yegor, Wyatt, and Yuri