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Chapter Text

It was a normal day. For everybody except Goebbels. All day, he was writing propaganda for his dear leader, Adolf Hitler. Why did he enjoy this so much?

It was 7:20 AM. Joseph Goebbels was slouched over a typewriter, he somehow managed to convince an entire nation that The Führer is the greatest leader in all of space. The sky was just a greyish blue, the sun setting in. Germany was going well, the birds were chirping a wonderful song (Probably the song Erika), and nobody had a care in the world, except for the jewish people. The bunker where Goebbels was, just had slight noise of the steps of the officials walking down halls. It reeked of coffee and cigarettes; Maybe because Goebbels decided to write his propaganda in the smoking lounge. (Dumbass.) Oops— His mind wandered off. He continued to write down some stuff to keep the Germans distracted from the world falling apart. His fingers on the typewriter went tap tap tap. More tap tap taps. Joseph carried away and wrote 3 double sided pages about Hitler's propaganda. He sighed. But then—

"Did you have another affair?"

Dear God, help Goebbels. That was his wife, Magda Goebbels. Joseph sighed, stood up from his chair, the chair groaning behind him.

"No I did not." The lie felt bitter on his tongue. He spoke with a straight face.

"I know who Lida Baarova is, you dick!" Magda shouted out, stomping her foot.

Goebbels rolled his eyes, shouting back. "So what? She's just an actress from Czech!"

Magda scoffed. "We have 6 childre–!"

"5! The other one is from your failed marriage!" Goebbels spat, cutting her off.

Magda raised both her eyebrows. A pause. That was a low blow. She shouted once more before leaving.

"You just can't seem to land your finger on the person you love!"

Those words probably echoed in Goebbels' head. Magda quickly turned her heel and walked out. Thank Goodness nobody was in the smoking lounge during that time. Magda's heels clicked on the tiled floors as she walked away. Goebbels stared at her, furious for even thinking about everything. He sat down and read his own propaganda, to check for mistakes. Suddenly, he felt so attached to the words he wrote himself. What kind words were written about Adolf Hitler. What kind words were said about him. Goebbels couldn't help but by instinct agree almost immediately in his mind. He got more and more sucked into the propaganda he wrote. Not because it's propaganda, no. Its because of how he wrote passionately about Hitler. Why was he so fascinating now to Goebbels? The area didnt change around him. Still reeked of smoke. But maybe something changed in Goebbels. Get over it, Goebbels, it is just your leader.

Chapter Text

A day passed since Goebbels wrote his iconic 3 double sided Nazi Propaganda pages and thinking the main character is a smokeshow. Magda was still being bitchy but in this situation, the children were out of the picture.

However, there was been a situation with her husband, Joseph Goebbels. Whenever he saw the Führer, his heart raced and his breath always hitched. He always tried hiding his flustered face because it was always redder than the soviet flag. And whenever he hailed his words and land, his right hand flew up, craving the need to worship Hitler. "No, this is wrong. That's my leader." Goebbels always thought to himself. But his heart was in different places.

He had to show The Führer himself the propaganda he wrote, he must. Sure he approved of many, but this one was written with his own hands, his own words. His footsteps echoed from the corridor in the bunker as his nervousness increased. Goebbels looked around the walls, glancing at the German paintings and photographs. As Joseph Goebbels finally reached the door to the Führer's study, he clutched the papers, just overthinking what could happen. He knocked on the door gently. And then came the deep, cold voice.

"Komm herein." ("Come in.")

Aah shit. Joseph Goebbels was sweating bullets as he opened the door. He saw him. Doing paperwork but God—

His cold blue eyes, His side part that never stuck out, the moustache that always suited him, and the uniform that made him look like an absolute—

"Guten Tag!" (Good Day!) Joseph said nervously, clutching the papers into his both fists.

Hitler looked up at him from his paperwork, his expression softened.

"Guten Tag to you too, Goebbels. Why are you here?" Adolf's eyebrows furrowed, his voice still remaining cold but gentle.

Joseph could feel his heart racing and his face slightly flushed, as he glanced at the side.

"I wrote something. I wrote some propaganda. I followed all of the policies and I think its pretty good but.. I would still– I'd still like for you to read it.. if you are interested, Mein Frührer.." Goebbels said nervously. 

Adolf squinted his eyes and slightly sat up. He took the papers from Joseph and put them beside his paperwork, left as something to be read later.

"Danke, I'm very grateful for your devotion to your place and work in this nation. We need more men like you." Hitler said as he clasped his hands. He didnt know it, but Goebbels' knees were weak from his compliments. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could—

"You may go now." Adolf said, returning his attention to his paperwork. Goebbels nodded stiffly, walking out. He muttered a small "Auf Wiedersehen" To Hitler as he left. The door made a small clink as Joseph returned to the real world. What was he even missing in his life? He was the picture perfect man. He had a wife, children, and a cute woman that he always had affairs with. But.. nothing was filling in that missing piece. Everything he put was put together with school glue, nothing was stable. He can ignore this feeling but he would end up unhappy. But God, what would fill this empty void?

As Joseph Goebbels walked through the hall where his footsteps echoed like little reminders of what happened, he replayed the moment in his mind. He felt empty but so full. He felt so nervous but so bold. That's it, he felt horny, he'll send a letter to Lida Baarova again. Maybe that would fill the gap. Maybe that would make him happy.

He quickly went to the smoking lounge and wrote a passionate but short letter. He spent some time on it, choosing the right words, the pen ink slightly smudging on his fingers. He sent a guard shortly to send the letter to Lida Baarova. But Goebbels knew, for the next night, he wouldn't be alone. He knew that it wouldn't fix anything he felt but just for that short moment of pure ecstasy... He'd risk it all.

What a man. He wishes for everybody's pride, while the nation wishes for his.

Chapter Text

10 PM. The stars flicker faintly in the dark sky. After a very, very steamy night, Goebbels was putting his clothes back on alongside with Lida Baarova. She already felt dazed after the passionate night. Magda was nowhere near his heart now, in fact, Dear Joseph even thought of divorcing her just to be with Lida.

But who else was near Goebbels' heart?

Lida was smoking a cigarette, the smoke curling in the air and fading away. The blanket covered most of her bare body, warming her up. Joseph finished dressing up in his uniform as he turned his head around to glance at the woman he just made love to.

"I had a wonderful time." Goebbels stated, softly smiling at her.

Lida Baarova blew out some smoke and grinned.

"I've had a wonderful time as well. Same time next week?" Her voice was indeed tempting, Joseph couldn't help but fall for it.

His eyes glimmered with the thought of the night repeating—His soft smile turning into a devilish iconic grin.

"Oh absolutely. And hey.." He softly added. "Maybe if we get closer, I could divorce Magda and... Oh, Lida, don't look at me like that, Schatz."

Baarova sighed, slightly leaning in. Her expression wasn't that playful anymore, maybe even a tad bit serious. The suggestive intentions in the room immediately shifted to something else. Something serious.

"Oh but Joseph..." Lida started softly, her words a gentle murmur to not scare him off so soon. "...What will you do when the Führer finds out?"

Goebbels head whipped back almost instantly after she said that; away from his eyes meeting hers. The mention of him. His face burned with confused feelings and shot-wide eyes. The room immediately became pressuring for Joseph.

Crossing his arms with his back turned: "I-I'm not sure, Lida." That voice was low; The question answered so quickly, it even made Lida raise a suspicious eyebrow at him.

"Ähm.. Okay, whatever." Baarova waved off his almost nervous demeanor. "I'm serious, if he finds out, he'll end the spark we have. I do not speak poorly of our Führer—"

There it is. His rank again. Goebbels could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Under the uniform, and under the flesh, what in the world was he feeling?— He probably thought to himself. His hands began to sweat as Lida Baarova continued to ramble about consequence and risk. The air felt thicker, he couldn't handle this anymore. He suddenly cut her off, his head turning to her.

"Hey! Seems like I've got a lot of work on my hands, hm? Ill see you next week!" Joseph choked out with probably the most nervous fake-smile he's ever done in his life. Lida, dumbfounded, stared at Goebbels already leaving the room. As the door softly slammed, Lida just blinked in surprise. She didn't dwell on the weird topic too much, she just sighed before mumbling: "what a strange man." To herself before lighting another cigarette. Baarova laughed softly at the absurdity of his goodbye as she watched the smoke curl in the air.

Meanwhile, Joseph was walking (well, limping since he had a weird right foot) as fast as possible. He had to get home. His forehead was glistened with sweat as he felt his cheeks reddening again from the entire situation. He wanted to smack his head against the nearest wall, he wanted to deny all of this, he wanted to just disappear.. Although... Then the Führer will worry about his absenc- Oh, focus, Goebbels! Why, just why was he thinking about his glorious leader like this? Goebbels was supposed to just praise him.. Not become a lovesick fool for him. The alleyways were dark and empty as he tried to avoid people recognizing him—his steps almost too precise. He finally reached a well trusted man to give him a lift somewhere where the countryside began, just the path to his home. He asked what was the problem; Goebbels politely refused to talk. Finally, after a few hours of driving and 30 minutes of walking, he saw it. He saw his home. Goebbels shakily took out his keys and unlocked his door. Finally! Some rest after all of that...oh no. Magda was standing right Infront of him with her arms crossed and her face sour. Goodluck with this, Joseph.

They stood in silence for what seemed like 5 hours. Magda's eyes were scanning him up and down.

She inhaled and muttered an angry— "It's late." 

Goebbels, already feeling a bit irritated and not knowing how to reply to that, just nervously said, masked as simple:

"Well, no shit, woman."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?!" Magda snapped, her voice just a whisper-shout to not wake the kids up. "You've been cheating again, haven't you?"

Joseph gulped. Yeah, that gave it away instantly. He groaned as he rolled his eyes, slouching.

"Okay, well, fine, I may have just fucked a tinie tiny bit—"

Magda threw her hands up in the air, her eyebrows knitted together in irritation and fury at the misalliance unfolding in front of her eyes.

"Fine! Go rest. We'll see eachother in the morning."

Goebbels, like a son yelled at by his mother, quietly made his way to their shared bedroom; His footsteps echoing in the hallway. It was for the first time that he didn't feel pride or bashfulness from the night of his affair. Lida wasn't on his mind, it was, yet again, the Führer. Joseph actually felt remorse for his actions, who knows why.

Magda turned her head as he walked away. She slowly smiled and muttered to herself:

"We'll see how you'll continue your affairs after this, my dear husband."