#bl00dysavior

[kingfishered]

When do you gaze at your soulmate? - For König

when they don't know you're there

you want to see who they are at their core. your love smiles for you. they put on a brave face. they tell you off when you're out of line and they encourage you when you know your mistakes are piling up. they're the one who is always there. but there are moments you catch them unawares and that is when you watch them. you want to see the expression their face takes when they aren't being brave for you. you want to see how they smile when it isn't designed to lift your own burdens. you want to see what they say to everyone else. how they talk about you. how everyone else encourages them or if they let anyone be there at all. you want to see what is underneath it all so you can prove that's who you love. the parts of them they try to hide. the parts they think you don't already know and adore.

tagged by: @bl00dysavior

tagging: everyone. do it i dare u

[the-wild-card-hand]

" you're a long way from home. " for Graves? ( @bl00dysavior )

@bl00dysavior

The voice seemed to make Philip Graves alert. Turning around he spotted a rather intense looking Italian Woman with a very noticeable scar on her face, her eyes were sharp like knives. She looked like a very capable Operator in his eyes.

"I go where the work takes me. Just so happens I'm here to help KorTac out with some jams y'all been having." Graves said with a cocked head "Lemme wager a guess, you're one of the Point-men? Not using that as a slight against your gender by the way, wanna get that out in the open."

[h-a-unted]

❝ you can't keep it all inside, you know? bottling it up won't do any good... ❞ to König?

(From @bl00dysavior )

"But,... I just..." How to say it? Even thinking about it was making a mess out of him. Would it be stupid for him to even talk about it? Could he say anything? No... He had to keep it in, because...

"If I try to speak about it... Things get worse. I feel this crushing sensation in my chest. It's unpleasant. I don't--I don't want to talk about it." It felt wrong to say it, because he did want a shoulder to rely on, but even that was too much to ask for him -- out of him. "I can keep it in. You shouldn't worry about me... I'm sorry for making you worry, even."

@bl00dysavior

[kingfishered]

Otto knew that she wouldn’t make the offer if she didn’t mean it, but he always felt the need to check. People made offers just to be nice with the expectation that one would turn it down and he wasn’t very good at telling when that was the case. At least, he was pretty sure people did that. That didn’t seem to be the case here, though, so he settled in his seat.

This wasn’t usual behaviour for her, he had noted that. She wasn’t usually one to prolong something social, something he appreciated. This realisation, however, also brought his attention to the fact this was unusual behaviour for himself, because he was exactly the same. Yet here he was, having accepted her offer rather than grabbing something and leaving or even just turning around at the first sign someone was already in the kitchen and deciding to try again later. Not only that, but he’d also sat down to wait in her company. That usual current of anxiety the buzzed beneath his skin when he had to spend time with others not in the context of work didn’t seem to be quite as strong, here.

He decided he’d appreciate it while he could.

“It sounds nice,” he said - the array of ingredients he’d seen laid out had looked good. Fearing a silence here might be awkward, he searched for something else to say, landing on another question, one that could be slightly risky.

“Is it a dish from home?”

"If I wasn't sure I wouldn't be making the offer, König," she simply said as she began dicing vegetables, shifting her focus to the task at hand as she let her thoughts wander.

Salvatrice wasn't sure what made the question, the offer really, come so naturally. She was never one to explicitly seek out company after all, part of the reason why she was here in the barracks kitchen instead of elsewhere. Never hesitated to make her common inclinations towards solitude clear either, as plenty of others had the misfortune of learning firsthand.

Maybe it was just one of those days, the persistent idleness of it all allowing the loneliness to scratch at the walls, breaking skin where she thought she had protected herself.

Königs question snaps her out of her internal line of questioning however, and she glances over at him. "Paccheri al ragú," she answered, before realizing how much of a 'non answer' it could be considered and elaborating after a beat of silence. "Pasta with a... meat sauce. Nothing fancy." She made a vague gesture after putting the diced vegetables in the pan as she tries to remember the English definition.

Nothing fancy, but certainly a sort of comfort dish after all these years. There was no hiding the sentimentality that seemed to linger, quelling her usual fire. After all, when was the last time she actually had company with her while she cooked, let alone the last time she had cooked with the intent for someone else to share that same meal? Truthfully, Salvatrice couldn't quite remember, but she had to admit it was... nice. A familiarity she hadn't gotten to experience in quite some time. If anything, it nearly made her grateful she wasn't alone for once.

[gxldensxldiers]

Also friendly midnight psa that I write Stiletto over on a sideblog @bl00dysavior as well as a handful of cod-related ocs on another one @line-of-fire

[kingfishered]

[TEXT] You’re gonna laugh, but can you pick me up from the police station?

(To König; @bl00dysavior )

𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

[TEXT] - you’re gonna laugh, but can you pick me up at the police station? // @bl00dysavior

[TEXT] ...what did you do. [TEXT] I'm on the way, but I am not happy [TEXT] how many times is this now?

[kingfishered]

Post it note from König? @bl00dysavior

send “ POST - IT NOTE ” for what my muse would leave yours in a post - it note message !

the note is stuck to a small box of cookies, imperfect enough that it is certain they were homemade.

[kingfishered]

König didn’t doubt that she had been minding her own business at first, but that didn’t change the way the encounter had ended. Whether it was her who instigated it or not, here they were in his car, having just picked her up from the station.

He listened as she continued, may not have understood the word coglione, but could definitely pick up its meaning from context. The mafia always seemed to be a sore spot for her, he’d certainly noticed that one from spending time around her, even if she’d never actually revealed why. He didn’t ask, either - that was her past, and unless it started getting in the way of her work, he didn’t need to know.

The only issue was that it potentially could start getting in the way of work, if that particular sensitivity was to start causing more situations like this.

Perhaps he should keep an eye on that. He could hear her getting worked up just from the thought of it, a familiar metallic clink telling him she’d just started flicking her knife again.

For just a moment, König felt a smile tug at his lips beneath his mask. He quickly schooled his expression, despite the fact she couldn’t even see it, in case it showed in his voice. He should try and stay at least somewhat professional here, even if it did give him a little satisfaction that the smug bastard had got exactly what he’d asked for. That probably knocked him down a few pegs.

“And your best way of solving this was with your fists?” he sighed, digging back into that annoyance he’d felt when he’d received her messages earlier, “Eventually I will not be able to cover for you anymore with these kinds of things. You need to- get your issues sorted.”

He cringed internally as soon as the sharp words had left his mouth, that was definitely the wrong thing to say. And now he’d probably end up starting an argument with her himself, which he did not want to have to deal with, especially while he was driving. Too late now, he thought, grip tightening just a fraction on the wheel as he braced himself for her response.

Of course it wasn’t enough. Part of her knew that from the get go but well... She was still hoping. She would have been just fine leaving it at the charges, calling it good from there, but apparently that wouldn't be the case this go around.

It didn't matter. Not really. Whatever it took to just skip to the lecture and get that over with.

She began to better explain after a few moments of recollecting her thoughts, quashing the urge to snap and say it was none of his business. Because unfortunately it was, considering the facts that he was both her superior officer and the one consistently giving her rides back to base from the police station.“I was minding my own business," She always was. And there was always something to snap her frayed threads of self-control, as seen by the past incidents that marked her professional record.

"Coglione decided to start getting smart with me. Asked if I got this-" she scowled as she gestured to her scar. "Playing with knives or with the fucking mafia." And there it was, not just one but two of the glaring red buttons that were guaranteed to get a reaction out of her every time no matter who it was. Not that the guy had any way of knowing. Not that she ever intended on shedding light as to why the very allusion to her being with any sort of organization like that was such a sin.

She started flipping the knife around in her hand again, trying- and just barely managing- to keep herself from getting fired up all over again.

"I asked if he wanted to find out. Apparently he did." A hint of a smirk tugged at her lips for a split-second, bitterly sarcastic. After all, she didn't need to explain how the story actually ended, it was obvious enough. Someone called law enforcement while she was still fully distracted and she was caught red-handed (literally, it seemed, if the state of her knuckles was anything to go by).

[kingfishered]

Crime Drama Archetype Aesthetics

bold what applies to your muse , italics for things that apply situationally and / or only in certain verses .

For ARCHIE

THE HERO

a small home full of medals // the scent of justice // the adrenaline rush before busting a crime scene // trusting in the team // sworn oaths // the city’s skyline from the roof of the police station // radio chatter // protecting those who can’t protect themselves // a last stand // crime scene tape

THE RULE BREAKER

a revolver resting in the drawer // the taste of cheap whiskey // constant reminders of past mistakes // a shadowy figure in the alley // being known in every bar // a fight in the backroom // blood on leather gloves // your name whispered in the underworld // broken laws for the greater good // an act of defiance against the system

THE ODDBALL

a drawer full of candy wrappers // an unexpected knack for solving cases // a fascination with the improbable // the comfort in eccentricity // midnight oil burning for a case // chaotic notes leading to the truth // a genius in their own world // the thrill of a new challenge // the final piece of the puzzle falling into place // a colorful scarf among the grey suits

THE BAD TEMPERED

worn out gloves from punching the bag // a growl in the voice // a reputation that precedes you // a fist through the wall // harsh words with a caring undertone // a cigarette burning in the ashtray // the anger that fuels everything // a grudge held too long // begrudging respect from colleagues // an unexpected show of loyalty

THE MOURNING

working late nights // a plan that doesn’t include going home // being unable to return to the way things once were // a whiskey bottle in the bottom drawer // the cold touch of a gravestone // silence in a room once filled with laughter // old photographs gathering dust // the echo of a voice no longer there // a past that refuses to be forgotten // knowing that nobody knows what to say

THE WORLD WEARY

a flask of strong coffee // a siren in the distance // the familiar smell of gunpowder // a smoker’s cough // secrets buried deep // a sigh of frustration // a heavy sense of cynicism // crime scene photos that haunt dreams // a stare that has seen too much // a cold case reopened

THE DOCTOR

the sharp smell of chemicals // a doctor’s coat stained with blood // hands that have tried to mend too many // the solemn silence of the dead // the precision in every movement // the precise language of medicine // a race against time // the responsibility of life and death // blood spatters on white walls // an oath never to be broken

Tagged by: @bl00dysavior

Tagging: @prosopagn0sis @the141ghost @peacedomain @141s and anyone else who wants to do it!

[kingfishered]

name / alias: elias :)

birthday: 7th june

zodiac sign: gemini

height: 160cm

hobbies: writing, rp, reading, video games, going on walks

favorite color: a nice dark, maybe purplish read

favorite book: tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by gabrielle zevin (this changes regularly, though)

last show: heartstopper season 2

recent read: the southern book club's guide to slaying vampires by grady henrix

sources of inspiration: the many playlists i have for characters/pairings and fanart are my main two

story behind url: inspired by operation kingfish, from the old mw games :) also i love birds so it was fitting

tagged by: @bl00dysavior

tagging: anyone who sees this!! do it and tag me >:))

[kingfishered]

Once Stiletto was in the car and the door was shut behind her, König pulled away, heading back to base. Glancing over to her as she spoke, he noticed the bruise beginning to show on her face. He let out a nearly inaudible sigh.

“What did you do?” König asked, her brief explanation not explaining anything. He wondered if he really wanted to find out. It wasn’t going to make a difference - whether he punished her for it or not, she was going to end up getting into another fight somewhere down the line, as her track record showed.

It reminded him of himself, actually, back when he’d been a teenager. But neither of them in that car were teenagers, they had other ways of dealing with aggression, so there was no need to be starting fights in public and getting caught like she clearly had.

She straightened up, pushing herself off the wall when she saw König's car approach, glancing back at the station with a piercing glare before walking up.

“Thanks,” she lowly mumbled as she got in the car, shutting the door and getting her seatbelt on before taking off her ball cap, resting it on her knee.

It was safe to say she didn't look much better up close, a now-visible bruise already forming just below her scar and a scowl making itself at home on her face.

Well, she did owe him an explanation. Might as well give it on her own terms, salvage some pride in the situation.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her elbow resting on the edge of the car window and her hand, still holding the closed switchblade, against her temple. "Battery and 'disorderly conduct'," she muttered, raising her free hand to do a set of sarcastic air quotes.

[kingfishered]

Stiletto had always been a bit of a loose cannon, and as her superior it was unfortunately often König’s job to clean up her mess. This included picking her up from the police station - more than once. The first time she’d ended up there he’d been rather nervous about what the repercussions might be, before remembering that he was the one who decided them.

So, after giving her a lecture about being more careful, at least when it came to avoiding getting caught, and putting her in charge of cleaning duty around the base for the next month, he let her off.

Then it happened again, and then again…

He gave up after the third time.

Still, though, she was good at what she did, so KorTac kept her around.

König pulled up to the police station and was glad to see her waiting outside, meaning he didn’t have to go in and try to find her. She was quite a sight with a switchblade in her hand, though it was closed, and bloodied knuckles.

He leaned over to open the passenger side door for her with a tired call of, “Get in,” then sat back, waiting for her. Part of him hoped she had a good excuse, the other part knew it wouldn’t make a difference either way.

Closed starter for @kingfishered

Things could have gone significantly better, to say the least. Not that Stiletto necessarily regretted her actions from a few hours ago. Just that she got caught off guard by the police and wound up leaving the situation in handcuffs.

She couldn't help but silently admit the whole situation was a little ironic, all things considered. Twelve years of helping the law, and now here she was with a fresh set of assault charges just because she couldn't keep her own issues. Again. Who knew how many times this made it, she honestly stopped keeping track after the third time she wound up at some police station

Stiletto leaned back against the wall while she waited for König, habitually scanning the street for any sign of him. A hand was occupied absentmindedly spinning her closed switchblade, her other shoved in her jacket pocket. Her knuckles ached, already black and blue and splattered with red. The blood, long dried by now, wasn't just hers, but she wasn't bothered by it.

What was a little more, after all?

What did bother her was reaching out to König again for the same old thing. Truthfully, she wasn't sure yet how she was going to make it up to him like she had assured him in her last text. But she wasn't about to be made a liar. She'd figure something out.

[kingfishered]

Stiletto speaking made Otto realise he hadn’t moved from the doorway yet, though she turned to look at him before she could. He was worried he’d annoy her with his sudden appearance - he hated it when people walked in or watched him while he cooked - but the irritation in her expression that seemed to melt away as soon as she saw it was him.

He chalked it up to the interruption coming from someone she knew instead of a stranger, which was much the same feeling he’d had upon walking in and seeing it was her in there, rather than a complete stranger. He didn’t seem to mind her presence so much these days.

He hadn’t been expecting her offer to share in what she was cooking, it was a very pleasant surprise. One that warmed him up a little, helped quell the part of him that made him think nobody wanted him around. He supposed that meant he could act on that want to stay.

“Are you sure?” he asked, just to confirm, “I would like that. I was just coming to get some food.”

Otto finally moved away from the door, instead going to sit down to wait. He had time - it was probably the break he needed, to be honest. Apart from the obvious like restaurants or canteens, he hadn’t had someone else cook for him in what felt like forever.

“What are you making?”

While her back was to the entrance of the kitchen and she was preoccupied by her current task, it didn't mean Salvatrice was completely unaware of her surroundings. She heard the footsteps approach, followed by the vague sense of being watched.

"I know you're there. You aren't sneaking up on me." she finally settled on, as she shut the faucet off and set the washed tomatoes aside before turning around to properly face König. The initial aggravation morphed into something more casual, almost joking by a stretch of the word, when she realized who it was.

Well, if anyone was going to be here, it might as well be him. She could think of plenty of other people that'd be far worse to put up with on a lone afternoon such as this. She already had everything out for the most part, she wasn't about to leave now. If she was being honest with herself, maybe the company would have been nice for once. Maybe. Again, there were far worse options.

"Cooking or just grabbing something?" she asked as she finished getting the basic utensils and dishes out, pausing before she added. "There will be enough if you want and have time to wait."

[kingfishered]

In the lull the weekend had brought, Otto found himself thinking about home. It had been a while since he’d last visited, caught up in work as he was, and he reluctantly had to admit that he was starting to miss it. He would have to make some time soon to take some leave, maybe just a few days, to spend back in Austria.

He’d been trying to finish up some paperwork but had been struggling on account of his thoughts constantly wandering, so clearly a break was in order. Pulling on a plain face mask, his go-to when just on base, he left his office and headed to the kitchen. Perhaps some food might help him focus, it was getting rather late in the day.

As he neared the kitchen he was surprised - and maybe a little annoyed - to hear someone else moving around inside. Still, he’d come all this way, it would be rather odd for him to turn back now. He steeled himself and entered the kitchen, and upon seeing who was actually in there his annoyance faded a little. As least he knew Stiletto, she wasn’t a stranger to him.

Otto wondered if he should say something, but by time the thought occurred to him the window of time it would have been normal to say something like a greeting had already passed, so he settled on silence. He saw she had ingredients out on the counter and realised he’d caught her about to start cooking, and that made the bubble of longing grow in his chest, thinking about how he would always sit in the kitchen and watch while his mother cooked or baked, wrapped up in the warmth of comforting smells and good company.

It sort of made him want to stick around.

Closed starter for @kingfishered's König

It was a rare quiet afternoon in the barracks. Many of it's residents had taken advantage of the weekend to take personal time, leaving base and otherwise giving themselves a needed breather before the next week began with it's training and potential missions.

Stiletto was one of the few exceptions. There was only so much time she could kill by training, and however good it felt to let off some steam against a helpless training dummy, there were still other needs that needed to be addressed by the time late afternoon hit.

Which led the Italian to the kitchen, tempting fate to interrupt her solitude as she began methodically getting out the dishes and ingredients she'd need, unsure of what she was wanting to make exactly, but getting more of an idea as she got things out.