#dark! sebastian krueger

[sweetiecutie]

GOD KRUGER IS GREAT I'd fucking LOVE to see you write for him

A/n: I genuinely think that the only reason Krueger is not popular among CoD fandom is simply bc he’s canonically under 180 cm💀💀

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dark! Krueger I guess, obsession, nasty😜

Another a/n: also it’s extremely OOC, but what can you do abt that, huh? Let the girl be and share her delusional fantasies on her silly lil blog😩🙄

Okay, so starting off strong - Sebastian Krueger is an absolute, pathetic, needy simp for you. You so much as throw a fleeting gaze in his general direction? He’s there by your side, like an obedient dog that he is for you, happy to do whatever just to please you, to make your day a bit better and easier.

Yes, Sebastian is a terrifying killing machine and a literal war criminal, he doesn’t hesitate for a single second to blow enemy’s brains out or pitilessly cut them open with his knife, letting their guts spill onto the dirt under his feet. But with you? Krueger turns into a literal pookie-bear, all soft and lovey-dovey the very moment he so much as senses your presence (it’s a secret how he does it). And no, he is not ashamed nor scared to show his feral side to you; moreover, he’s pretty sure that this way he can fully let you see just how capable he is, that he can protect his little sweetheart no matter the circumstances, that he is a perfect match for such a frail and helpless thing as you (even though you are fully capable yourself)

Krueger is definitely bigger than you - if not in height, then definitely in weight and muscle volume; and fuck yes would he take advantage of this. He’d corner you somewhere relatively private, pressing you against the wall, his burly body not allowing you a smallest opportunity to slip from within his grasp. Mighty hips are pressed flush against yours, and so is his painfully hard dick. Krueger will hump your leg shamelessly, like a needy fucking dog; he’ll moan and groan and whimper against your reddened ear, telling you just how good it feels, how good you smell, how much you make him wanna cum.

And it’s not like you can do anything about it. You’ll ask Krueger to leave you alone - he’ll distance himself slightly (very slightly), allowing you some personal space, but then you’ll notice your stuff going missing - your tees, lip balms, panties ofc. And even if you confront Sebastian he’d just shrug it off, acting as if he doesn’t have a slightest clue what you are talking about.

You may even try to run but of boy, I don’t think that’ll end well. Being a skilled soldier that Krueger is, having excellent tracking skills, it’ll take a few weeks max for him to get to you, even if you flee to the other end of the world, to some small shithole of a town. And the moment Sebastian actually finds you? God knows what’ll happen, so better don’t push your luck.

So all you have to do is to just allow Krueger love onto you and be his kleine Mausi <3

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

Next

Masterlist

[diejager]

Hybrid AUs masterlist

Reminder : My blog contains dark/yandere content and have 18+ fanfics, so MDNI with NSFW fics. I also do fluff and angst. All my works are fiction : I don’t own any of the characters I write for; there might be triggering subjects - please see the warnings before reading. None of the gifs or visuals I use in my fics are mine.

Your consumption of media is your responsibility and yours alone.

Nav | CoD

[dark, fluff, yandere, nsfw(*), angst, request]

Wolfie

Pairing: cod men x wolf hybrid!reader

Wolfie | r,f

Training* | r (Price&Ghost)

Tiger Heat* | r,f (tiger!Horangi)

Another... One? | r,f (wolf!Nikto)

Doe

Pairing: Task Force 141 x doe hybrid!reader

Doe* | r,d

Normal | r,d

Bunny

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x bunny hybrid!reader

Bunny | r,f

Needy Bunny pt1* | r

Needy Bunny pt2* | r

Biting Bunny | r

Puppy

Pairing: Task Force 141 x puppy!reader

Puppy* | d

headcanon* | r,f,d

Hyper* | r

Pairing: Ghoap x puppy!reader

Quiet, Pup* | r,f

Pairing: multi x puppy!reader

Calamari | r,f

Cow

Pairing: Bull!cod men x cow!reader

Pasture* | r

Milk* | r

Swollen* | r

Kitty

Headcanon* | d,r

Bear

Honey Slick* | r,f

[konigsblog]

WARNINGS: STEPCEST, NON-CON/DUB-CON, MANIPULATION, INTOXICATION, ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION.

stepbrothers könig and krueger... those cheeky, cruel bastards, having no remorse for what they do to their younger stepsister. :(

they're brutal and harsh with their words; slut shaming and victim blaming you, telling you that it was your fault, that you came onto them in your drunken, intoxicated and needy state.

krueger and könig will make you sob pathetically, after slipping an aphrodisiac into your drink, watching you fidget with your hands and squirm in your seat at the sensation of your cum-soaked panties. arousal runs down your soft, supple thighs in droplets, rubbing them together in fruitless attempt at concealing the way your body was suddenly reacting. they'd handed you more alcohol, forcing it down your throat while they became more touchy, your perspective on your stepbrothers beginning to change and become warped, twisted into something it shouldn't be.

as they were your stepbrothers, their duty was to protect you, to care for you. yet, they took advantage of the power and authority they had over you. through your drunken state, you didn't recognise them as your stepbrothers anymore, beginning to rub against them in an attempt to seduce them, smirking at one another as they began to peel your wet, slick panties off. your lips attached to krueger's, dragging your tongue over his bottom lip and intertwining your tongue with his, while könig pressed his muscular hips around you, running his bulbous, hot cock over your folds. he gave you a last chance to redeem yourself, to realise how perverted you looked, before he took what he desired.

he rolled his broad hips against your rear, chuckling hoarsely at the sound of you sucking in a sharp, deep breath. you moaned against krueger's lips as könig grinded himself against you, holding back his grunts as he prodded against your slit. your hole weeped, desiring to be filled and stuffed full, while your pretty head was all fucked up and confused, feeling krueger guide your head lower to his crotch. sat on all fours like a mutt, your ass in the air and your face pressed and nuzzled against krueger's hot, bulging crotch, the feeling and outline of his hard, stiff dick leaving you drooling over his boxers. you moaned blissfully as könig began to thrust against you, pushed inside of your puffy, wet heat. your body ached and your cunt throbbed at the stretch, yet, you pleaded for the man behind you to go harder, unaware of what was really going on...

your lips opened, wrapping around krueger's lengthy, veiny dick, as he began to push and guide your head lower, throwing his head back as you took him all the way down to the base. something inside of you twisted, your stomach churning with guilt and unknown shame, not understanding why it felt so wrong, but so so good all at the same time... your moans were silenced and muffled as you sucked krueger's dick, leaving his balls coated in drool as your coated him in spit, panting and heaving and attempting to catch your breath as könig rammed and slammed against your poor, tight ass.

your core tightened with your orgasm, arousal building up inside of you, causing your eyes to glisten and your pussy to throb and pulse around könig uncontrollably. god, they knew how disgusting and depraved this was; to perv on their younger stepsister, in your vulnerable and reliant state. you clung to them, sucking krueger off and looking into his eyes with shame, while könig's balls smacked against your cunt repeatedly, sending you over the edge, bruising your warm wetness and leaving you shaken up with cum dripping from your tongue.

the next morning, your body felt weak and the realisation left you trembling and disgusted. unable to look at them in the eye, or even yourself in the mirror. thinking about how depraved you were last night, while they told you it wasn't their fault – their bodies reacted, and they were just treating you right, after all, that's their duty, taube. :(

[machveil]

hey so I eat your Konig stuff up but if you feel up to it I BEG OF YOU to do something with my sweet(insane) princess(grown man)Krueger it can be like,general partner hcs or soemthing specific idk,I am starved for Krueger content.

I just dropped what I was doing because I need you to know anon!! I need you to know I agree, I’m famished for babygirl (soldier) Krueger

General Thoughts about Sebastian Krueger

you didn’t see me accidentally post this early

so, he’s morally ambiguous in my eyes. the Corporal has canonically killed civilians and escaped custody - do we know why? no, his past Lieutenant literally befriended him to help him get to know that team because he saw “talent in a troubled mind”

given his background, it takes a while for him to open up to you - let alone even think of dating you

he’s got a unique personality, humor that ranges on the darker side. he thinks he’s very funny, and he laughs a little harder when he sees the concerned looks he gets after cracking a joke. if you’re also one to find humor in the dark he’ll take a liking to you - someone that can match his freak lol

he’s a surprisingly light eater - he prefers to eat small meals, little portions, throughout the day something about a sensitive stomach. he doesn’t snack though, he literally just eats small meals, he’ll get a bit of protein, some carbs, vitamins. no one knows why he eats like that - no one really knows why he does what he does generally

he’ll get comfortable with you eventually though, maybe sit down with him while he eats. he can enjoy a comfortable silence. he’s not a fan of small talk, why fill the silence when you have nothing to say?

if you’re dating he’s a stoic, serious body guard for you… but he’s still got a soft spot in his heart, he’ll call you meine Prinzessin/Prinz, meine Herz, little Vogel - his Princess/Prince, his heart, little bird

he’s got a possessive streak - maybe a little unhealthy. he can come off as controlling in some aspects he is, but can you blame him? you’re his to protect, his Herz - who wouldn’t protect someone they hold dear?

[vasyandii]

Headcanons of The Cousins

Beforehand: These are just my personal headcanons, it's okay if you don't like them; you are entitled to your own opinions and can freely scroll by.

Creator Notes: I headcanon that König's birth name is Darius Doss, I will be using that name and König interchangeably.

DARIUS "KÖNIG" DOSS

-I headcanon that he's Krueger's younger Cousin by a few months on his mother's side, hence the surname "Doss"

-Born with a cleft lip, a possible reason why he was bullied as a child alongside him being a fairly chubby kid.

-Took up smoking when he was 15 as a way to fit in, he's been clean for 12 years.

-In regards to his social anxiety, it's not that severe as it once was when he was a teen; he gets dizzy when his social battery is running low.

- Darius has dark brown hair, not blond/ginger, natural freckles.

-Buzzes his head constantly to keep cool, it must get hot in his sniper hood.

-Carries an abundance of gear; as much as he is confident in his abilities, he overthinks

-had a huge growth spurt when he was 18, so he went from 6' to 6'8".

-He's mean, alot meaner than Krueger, but he's more patient.

SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER

-I headcanon that he's König's Older cousin ( He would be 38 in Modern Warfare 2, so König being a colonel still makes sense to a degree)

-Buzzes his head occasionally, or when it gets too hot to manage

-Lost contact with his external family after he killed his parents, didn't reunite with König until He was in his mid thirties.

-Grew up with childhood food insecurity; even though he lived in one of the more wealthy parts in Austria, his parents didn't make good financial decisions to support a child.

-Started smoking at 15 as an act of rebellion, it slowly turned into a way to relieve stress in the field so he never stopped.

-Too smart for his own good, he was a problem child

-Wanted to look out for his cousin; he doesn't know if it was out of pity or genuine care

-Had the stupidest gelled up hairstyle when he was 16.

-Can't wink, so he just squints.

HEADCANONS FOR BOTH

-Their families often went on trips to Nordsee Beach when they were younger, gave them time to bond

-Awkwardness runs in their genes, Krueger is just so overly confident that he convinces himself things worked out

-Both extremely observant to the point it's kind of scary, must run in the family.

-Both are extremely intelligent however the moment they are put into a a room together they are two of the dumbest people on earth

- They pretend not to know each other while on duty during cross faction missions. (Both are kind of embarrassed to be related to each other)

-Darius has not forgiven Krueger for parricide.

If you made it this far to the post, I want to thank you for reading! Hopefully my rambles are coherent enough to be understandable xD Please have these Old sketches of them as babies/teens as a thank you :)

[rookiesbookies]

Geek Gods AU for CoD Boys

Masterlist is pinned on my account

Price:

Son of Zeus. God of Protectors and Leaders. Takes sacrifices of home cooked meals, razors, single woman over 30, and violent children who need a mentor/dad figure.

(See master list for the fic on what happened to the woman he got that was under 30)

Soap:

Son of Ares. God of Explosives. He takes gunpowder, ammo, lighters, flammable things, gas, and bakes goods.

Ghost:

Son of Hades and Persephone. God of the Winter (bc he’s so cold lmao). He takes sacrifices of animal furs, grain, spices, and face masks that protect from the cold.

Konig:

Son of Atlas. God of Mountains (im hilarious you can laugh). Hikers and travelers sacrifice to him for safe travels, especially if traveling North. Mount lions, cured meat, baked goods, and pine cones are sacrificed to him.

Keegan:

Son of Thanatos. God of Silent Deaths. Like being murdered silently or dying in your sleep. People sacrifice scorpions and poison berries to him. He has a holiday similar to day of the dead where you bring gifts to your dead family members.

Gaz:

Son of Hermes. Easy. He’s the God of falling from high places. People sacrifice feathers, birds, and bad drivers to him.

Krueger:

Sebastian is the son of the three Erinyes (goddess of vengeance and retribution). His job is to fulfill their wishes, as God of Executions. Likes sacrifices of dark colored birds, weapons, metals, and meat.

Let me know who else you want to see and if I should do lil fics about them?

[eyelambspider]

♡ My Cuddles! || König & Krueger

┊pairing : könig x gn!reader x sebastian krueger ┊content warning : fluff, slight jealousy, cuddles, a little suggestive, swearing ┊word count : 1.3 k ┊a/n : look-sometimes you just need two masked men who want to fight for your cuddles alright? *sobbing defending myself*

It was going to be a long fucking night, that much was for sure. The night watch duty was torn between the three of you: König, Krueger & Yourself.

With your hour already done, it was time to get a bit of sleep before the next one.

With the masks hanging ominously over their faces. The two Austrian men watched as you walked with a heavy step over the the only bed in the dim cabin. Eyes and intents hidden under dark fabric that blanketed their faces, neither relenting in their quest to keep their identities hidden.

Yet, both head turned subtly, trailing after your retreating form.

Krueger was sitting in the corner of the one room cabin, shucking quiet pieces of wood onto the ground. Digging his blade into a piece of wood as he carved it out and looked it over, pretending to keep busy even if his eyes flickered over and stole a glance at you taking your boots off.

König meanwhile, was standing by the window, arms folded over his chest and leaning against the wooden walls. Glaring out into the dark snowy night, making sure nothing shifted or moved out there. Pretending somewhat that his blue eyes weren't also flickering occasionally across the room to watch you slip under the covers of the blanket.

Your soft, satisfied sigh made them both momentarily pause. The sudden tension in their shoulders making the two men glance at each other.

Krueger's sniper veil swayed slightly as he considered König, and König's eyes turned icy, brows furrowing. A silent shared sentiment passing between them.

They were both thinking the same thing.

Krueger was the first to move, nearly jumping to his feet. Setting his rough carving down on the table, twirling the blade between his fingers before sheathing it back into his belt.

Under his hood, König's mouth hung open slightly at the man's audacity. Watching rigidly and slightly panicked as the veiled mercenary stalked over to the side of the bed, looming over you with an aura of mischief.

"Sleeping soundly?" he murmured, leaning over to gauge your expression better. The edges of his veil bristling against your arm as he whispered, "Cold, schatz?"

Before you could turn and address the sudden intrusion, Krueger was already slipping his boots off and crawling in behind you with a grunt. Throwing an heavy arm around your waist as if he's done this a thousand times before.

König's eyes widened, the shock evident through the small windows in his mask. His watch completely forgotten the moment Krueger lifted his head up, checked to see that König was looking, and with a seemingly satisfied-smug-gesture, his arm tightened around your waist... pulling your body flush against his own. Your ass pulled back against his hips.

If Krueger could see the tall snipers face, he'd bet there was a vein throbbing against his temple, ready to burst.

König's eye twitched, gloves creaking in protest as they balled up into tight fists.

He crossed the room in a few strides, looming over the other side of the bed and damn near ripping the blanket off. "Was zum Teufel!" he whisper yelled harshly, icy eyes glued to Krueger's body against yours like he wanted to strangle him. "What the fuck are you doing!?"

Krueger hardly flinched, resting his chin on your shoulder innocently-the bastard. "I'm keeping meinen Kleinen Liebling warm."

"You are making things uncomfortable!" they continued to whisper shout to each other, as if you weren't quite literally stuck between the argument to protest yourself.

Kruger huffed, reaching a gloved hand to tilt your chin his way. Able to see your face over your shoulder.

Your face was the picture of perfection to him. Inviting, surprised, and a beautiful dark blush blossomed across the bridge of your nose, spilling onto the architecture of your face.

"Are you uncomfortable, schatz?" he purred the name out, unable to help the way his body was starting to react with you so close. You fit so perfectly against him... like you were made to fit in his arms. The bubble of warmth between your two bodies pleasant... and your hips pulled back against his was giving him ideas.

König watched on in horror and Krueger's gloved hand gave your hip and experimental squeeze. The color draining from his skin the moment you shook your head quietly. The blush painting your complexion all-telling.

König had no fucking choice but to back up then, if you had no protests then there shouldn't be any further discussion...

but he watched as Krueger cuddled his veiled face into your hair, breathing you in enthusiastically as you tensed. His actions making your pulse visibly jump under the delicate skin of your throat. Krueger's arms wrapping more firmly around your waist... wandering up to try and splay across your chest- and no way he was going to take that any longer.

A surprise to everyone, König had lifted the blanket hastily, inviting himself into the tangle of limbs.

A small surprised squeak came from your lips, the bed dipping as König climbed in quickly, his own arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. The two of them beginning to fight like two little boys on the playground.

"Verdammt, du großer bastard!" Kruger hissed as your shoulders were pulled away from his chest, the cold filling in your sudden absence. He gripped at your hips a bit harder, determined to pull you back.

"Halt die klappe! Du kleines arschloch!" König gritted out, much stronger than him.

Both of them huddled closer, leaving no inch for you to even squirm away. Their bodies brushing and squishing you lightly between them.

König reached over your shoulder, pushing insistently against Krueger, trying to peel him off your body like a bug. The sniper's hard chest and arm barring you against him.

Krueger was hardly taking the sudden childish act, retaliating with his own. His leg shuffled between yours, kicking at König's shins, trying to push him out of the bed that he had claimed first.

"Hey," you whispered, between their little scuffle. König's hand pushing at Krueger's veiled face, smearing his head away, while Krueger's foot was getting closer to kicking König in the balls. The two not noticing your growing exasperation.

"Hey!" you finally shot up, their limbs halting to glance up at you. For a moment, both feared you would get up and leave their arms empty. And just like that... they calmed, listening despite the scowls on their hidden faces.

"Both of you... just... be quiet and go to sleep... or don't, I don't care," you muttered, falling back into the bed with a soft thump.

The two of them watched your face quietly before turning to each other. An ominous 'you almost fucking ruined it' aura seeping from both of them.

"Just... stop fucking moving," you murmured sleepily. As much as they were, the two of them were actually really warm. Wrapping around you like the worlds best weighted blanket.

You relaxed against them, letting your eyes flutter closed to find a moments peace. The feeling of you softening made both of their heart flutter dangerously in their chests.

Begrudgingly, they complied, muttering quiet curses.

König cradled your head close to his chest, smoothing down your hair with an almost imperceptible touch that belied his size, your leg bent delicately over his own... and Krueger held your hips, wrapping a gentle arm around your stomach, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. The quiet and calm finally seeping into the cabin.

everyone give anon a kiss for helping & correcting the translations :)

[gremlingottoosilly]

krueger mentioned!! i was so excited to see his name in IYNTBM! do you have any silly/dark hcs or plans to write about him?

Yes!! Krueger my beloved!! I feel like the only reason he isn't as popular as Konig is because he has a canon height that is shorter than 180, so people literally don't see him hehe. Hc and my plans under the cut!

I imagine him like a childhood best friend of Konig - probably around the same age, maybe Krueger is 2 years younger. He is a lieutenant in rank(idk about the mercenary ranks bear with me here, Konig is a colonel) and he wasn't promoted as much specifically because of his violent tendencies. PMC doesn't really care about war crimes as long as it's not a public spectacle, but even the companies he was working in were quite weirded out by the shit he was pulling. yes, he is the best man if you want to torture someone - and then again, he is the best torturer out here, and he sleeps next to you, drinks next to you, hits on the same girls as you etc... He is a nasty, nasty gremlin. The type to hit on the waitresses in a very sleazy manner, the type to say "Hey guys, let's protect this one" in a creepy manner if he sees a woman agreeing with him on his very controversial statements. Currently, in the timeline of IfYouNeedToBeMean, he is sitting home because of his arm injury(got stuck in the burning car, and had to break his arms to get out) and is very angsty and bored about it. Like Konig, he can't really enjoy civilian life, medical discharge is literally his worst days, and he actually has a history of depressive episodes. He DOES NOT cope well with civilian life, and his preferred hobby at home is drinking and ignoring his therapist's messages. Konig helped him quite a bit in his habit - gave the number of his therapist, bless this poor human, trying to support him as much as he can. Konig asks him to babysit his darling because he knows that more than one month at home would probably make Krueger consider killing himself, and he also trusts the man with his life - and his wife. Sebastian has a very perverted sense of morality, but he recognizes the reader as Konig's girl, and he would not touch the stuff that belongs to him. Yeah, we are "Konig's stuff" for him. If I was writing a different story and if Konig and Krueger met the reader at the same time, I would actually see them sharing her - they are not attracted to each other, but they feel like brothers sometimes and could have this mentality of sharing everything between them. Darling stuck with two nasty perverts...yeah, not the best scenario. Unlike Korangi x Reader, Konig and Krueger wouldn't sleep with each other - so you'd have to be their release every time, each time, giving him equal attention because Konig is insecure and Krueger just loves causing problems on purpose.

[hvman-scvm]

Hi, I heard you were taking requests. Do you write for Krüeger (cod) by any chance? If so, do you have any headcannons Yandere Krüeger x male military reader and how such a relationship might work out?

I do !! :) I didn’t mean 4 this 2 b so short but studying squeezed all the creativity out my brain

!! CW ;; typical yandere stuff, krueger is a bit manipulative, I went by the traditional / og meaning of yandere !!

🔪— yandere ! Krueger who, unlike lots of other yanderes, needed some time for his obsession to flow. It started when your units were sent on a mission 2gether and naturally, he gravitated 2wards the unit’s leader; you.

🔪— he treats you like you belong to him, even if you aren’t in a romantic relationship yet, because he decided you belong to him the moment he felt the nauseating feeling of lovesickness in his guts.

🔪— a relationship would b so hard because of your busy schedules, and he despises it. He’s highly considered kidnapping you but paranoia crept up on him, making him worry abt all the possibilities of you getting hurt while he’s away on deployment.

🔪— he’s always hovering over you when he can, scaring away any potential recruits tht might get a little too brave w you. And even if they did, this sets a target on their head.

🔪— he’s a very straightforward man, and he straight up told you how he felt; no matter if you accept or not, you’re his. This man is not afraid 2 lyk tht he’ll kill 4 you (and he prob did)

🔪— can b cruel and manipulative; lovebombing you, feeding you paranoid thoughts tht others are after you and only he is capable of protecting you, gaslighting you in2 thinking tht his obsession is your fault. But he won’t hurt you physically, you aren’t one of his enemies, you don’t deserve tht. Unless, yk, you like being hurt then he’s more than happy 2 oblige.

🔪— if you accept his love, as intense and insane it is, it wld b easier 4 you then if you didn’t; he’s not afraid 2 use force. You will love him. Doesn’t matter how much manipulation he has to use, or how many rivals he has 2 kill, he will have you. And by openly accepting him before it gets to tht point, you spare yourself a whole psychological battle between you and him.

🔪— not the jealous type, but he’s extremely possessive, and is very open about it.

🔪— like I said in one of the previous HCs, a relationship w him wld b hard bcuz of you two’s job. He’s alway sending you letters tht may or may not b stained w some blood whenever one or the both of you are deployed, and expects you 2 send letters back giving exact details on yourself, like your location and mental being, etc.

🔪— once both of you are free, he makes you cuddle w him. Like, bro just wraps his strong ass arms around you and keeps you in place so tht you can’t move a muscle.

🔪— it’s a possibility tht he’d use trackers on you, especially since he can’t keep an eye on you w your schedules n all.

🔪— uses force 2 get his way, whether it’s physical or not.

🔪— uses your fears against you and then disguises himself as your “savior” 2 get you 2 b reliant on him. As in, he’d put ypu in situations where you’re faced w your fears and come 2 your rescues. Doesn’t matter how irrational or bad the fear is. Scared of the dark ? You get trapped in a dark closet after “some rookie” pushed you in, only 4 Sebastian 2 come help you out. Scared of dying ? Your unit is killed off one by one by a “sniper” and you get fatally shot due 2 a lack of coverage, luckily Sebastian has came 2 cover you and practically saved your life. Scared of bugs ? Suddenly a lot more seem 2 appear in your room, and (rather suspiciously) Sebastian seems 2 b always around 2 kill them 4 you. At the end he’d always remind you in his thick, German accent tht you need him around, etc.

[2kiran]

NEED THAT SWEET LIFE WITH ITS DECADENT WAYS

BYF: highly nsfw; no sfw requests. I don’t want minors interacting with my content so don’t let me know. personal questions, asks by blank, ageless, + minors will be ignored.

STAY WITH ME NOW, I DON’T WANNA BE LONELY ༒

CALL OF DUTY – könig, simon riley, john price, keegan russ, kim ‘horangi’ hong-jin, david ‘hesh’ walker, mace, nikto, sebastian krueger, barrage, kyle garrick, john mactavish

VALORANT – cypher, omen, chamber, kay/o

MARVEL & DC – wade wilson, matt murdock, spider-man noir, miguel o’hara, logan howlett | bruce wayne, minhkhoa khan, slade wilson, larry trainor

STAR WARS – din djarin, kylo ren, anakin skywalker

MORTAL KOMBAT – kabal, erron black, bi-han, kuai liang, kenshi takahashi, hanzo hasashi

SLASHERS – harry warden, ghostface (billy + stu)

KNOW HOW YOU FEEL ㄑ WORK DETAILS

WRITING: all readers but strictly top male and dom female. character is the bottom unless specified otherwise. hybrids, robots/cyborgs, mutual pining, threesomes, and legal age gap.

DARK CONTENT INCLUDES violence, stalking, dubcon, monsters, yandere, serial killer, toxicity, cheating, and obsession.

NSFW INCLUDES BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO overstimulation, orgasm delay/denial, exhibitionism, voyeurism, bondage, dacryphilia, dumbification, daddy kink (towards reader only), mask kink, weapon kink/play, consensual somnophilia.

STRICTLY WON’T WRITE FOR self-harm, disorders, abuse, non-con (including fantasies & consensual non-consent), age play, incest/stepcest/selfcest, pedophilia, strange fetish, watersports, scat play, heavy impact play, ddlg/b, pet play, and feederism.

BY THE WAY THAT YOU HOLD ME ༒ REQ. LAWS

I AM NOT OBLIGATED TO WRITE IT. be patient, ‘cause it may take a good while for me to get to it.

state the gender of reader and if they’re sub (M only), dom, or a switch + top or bottom (F or GN only).

be specific with your request, but don’t completely go overboard. it’s easier for the both of us if you properly state what you want.

NOTE, IN ADDITION: I will not do the fic if O1 I deem it too vague (reqs without a scenario), O2 I do not write for the character, and/or O3 I do not write for the pairing (e.g. dom!character x fem!reader).

if you are unsure with what I am willing to write, ask first.

— HOUSE OF FEARS (MASTERLIST)

this belongs to © 2023 2kiran. do not use the dividers I created, copy my themes & layouts, repost, modify, or translate any of my uploads. I do not own the GIFS, character images, or frames.

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[diejager]

New Beginings

Pairing: dark!Krueger & König x doll!reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, possessive behaviour, smut, rough sex, manhandling, overstimulation, mean!Krueger, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.3k

Your new body was… odd. Once, you didn’t need substinence, you could live without eating, or drinking, or breathing, but you now needed food, water, sleep and air to continue on. You didn’t understand how humans could live with such restraint, a body so easily broken and weak when all you did was sit and collect dust until you were cleaned by your caretaker. It was difficult to live this way, it was such a stark difference to your usual life. You were a fragile thing, spending most of your days limp and tiredly laying on your nest of blanket and softness in the golden cage Kruegerbought you.

Krueger was a distant relative of your father, he might’ve shared your father’s blood and pride, but he was nothing, if not vastly different from him. Sebastian Krueger was a crude and brash man, voice low and arrogant while he manhandled you with cruel and careless hands, pushing and pulling you around his broad figure. Unlike your thin and artistic father, Krueger was a firm and strong man, skin scarred from past battles, some won and some lost, but it added to his terrifying image as much as his veil did. 

After your rebirth, he moved you to an elegant, golden cage where you would live the rest of your life, completely at his mercy. He knew you would depend on him for nourishment, for relief and for company, locked away in the shadow of his bedroom to stare and admire like someone would do to a dove —you were his dove, an angel who’s wings he clipped to keep. He kept to a strict routine, he woke you up with a rough shake, his calloused fingers sinking into your softer skin to pull you out, whether or not you were used to using and feeling your legs didn’t matter, whatever he said goes. 

He fed you three times a day with snacks spread across the day, stuffing you round with food despite your complaints about not being hungry anymore, unused to having an body that necessitated food to work. Then he’d sit you on his lap as he worked, his hand sliding down your waist to grip your hip, sometimes staying put while he signed papers, and others straying to your thighs, kneading your oversensitive fat until you squirm and whine. 

He mostly kept his hands to himself when he was busy working, his mind cued sharply into finishing his work for the day to lounge and relax, but he liked - insisted on - touching you whenever he could, rucking up the edge of your dress and cupping the uncomfortable heat of your mound, curling his fingers through your slit and thumb your throbbing clit. He seemed to enjoy your high mewls and writhing, back arched forward and grinding your ass into a hard and painful bulge in his pants. 

Often times, you’d end up splayed over his desk, your clothes ripped in half from the top and left hanging under you while he rammed into you, his low grunts and cruel degrading left you in a wet and cock dumb mess of whining and crying. The red and swollen head of his cock battering your cervix, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you until he had his fill, the tip spurting hot and heavy ropes of thick cum. When he was done, he sat you on his half-hard cock, the girth still wide enough to plug you without reaching for one, your tear-strained eyes blinking tiredly and head resting against his neck.

That was usually what he did: breakfast, work, fucking you, dinner, fucking you, relaxing, supper, relaxing and fucking you to sleep, rarely diverting from it if he could. Krueger was a creature of routines, familiarity and strict form, thriving off his military training to teach you how to walk and talk, building a rigid structure to teach you. He could be cruel with his words, rough with his hands and perverted with his eyes, but he was… loving in a sense, despite how mean he was, he cared for you and provided for you in your uselessness. 

But unlike Krueger, who was heartlessly taunting to you, his roommate - König - was gentle and careful with you, playing with you as if you were still the porcelain doll you used to be. König was the giant of the two, a tall and broad man who stood twice as tall and twice as big as you, a seemingly monster in his rights. His wide palms petting your mop of hair, thick fingers carding through the bothersome knots and dressing you up for the day. He was a second factor of your routine, if you weren’t with Krueger, you were with him. 

He wasn’t cruel like Krueger, dauntingly stern, yes, but he never degraded you and laughed when you teared up. He was surprisingly tender with you, handling you with a softness that reminded you of your late father, mumbling quietly to you and showering you in affection. König praised you and loved you in his own way, a sickening and possessive obsession, mumbling promises that he would protect you from all the world’s cruelty, but what about his roommate’s ruthlessness? He told you not to worry your pretty, little head about him, Krueger couldn’t be fixed, it was the effect of whatever he lived through in battle.

König might’ve been your favourite between the two for how he isn’t purposefully mean, he didn’t degrade you, he didn’t growl and hiss at you, and he didn’t break his word. But he was still your captor, a man with as much - if not more - needs and wants as Krueger, with how often he pawed at your shorts, pushing them down your thighs to rut his cock between the sweep of your ass, carving a space between your clefs. If he was feeling particularly merciful, he’d stretch you enough, a thick and long finger filling your tight cunt before another pushed in, drowning your pained mewls and pants with his scarred lips. He always made you come once or twice, stuffing three fingers in an effort to fit his monstrous size, his girth and length too much for you. Much to your dismay, he made it fit, it was hot and steely, ploughing through you like you were made to take it, your slick and his abundance of pre making his thrusts smooth and easy.

If he was feeling sadistic, he would spend hours preparing you, holding you against his chest by a firm grip on your throat, your ankles hooked under him as he took his time fingering you. He praised you, his deeper growl wonderfully soft while he pampered you with his unending insistence of wetting his sheets with your musk, for the smell of your cum and sweat to stick to his room. He held you down to thrust his fingers, the palm of his hand rubbing your swollen nub, landing sharp slaps on your wet thighs until you’re sobbing out in overstimulation, writhing and fighting him with every claw and hit. 

Only when you stared blankly ahead, drool rolling down your chin and limbs spasming, does he finally fuck you, bottoming out in a quick snap of his hips and pounding you into his bed. He moved you to his whims, sometimes face down and ass up, other times folded in, your legs swung over his shoulders and back curved almost uncomfortably. You’re lucky you were made flexible, seemingly outworldly with how easily König and Krueger bent you over every surface of the house and folded you in half to watch their cocks break you in and your cunt gape, oozing their thick and bitter cum.

You hoped you’d get used to the workings of your body soon, your shaking limbs and painful cramps hindering you in your attempts to flee, to spread your wings and escape your golden cage.

“We just wants what’s best for you, Rehkitz.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @rae-pottah @cassiecasluciluce

[konigsblog]

Kruger and König who threaten to k!ll you during rlly rlly hard nd rough sex ;((

cw: dub-con/non-con, rough & degrading sex, kidnapping, intoxication & alcohol consumption / DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT – MDNI.

kidnappers krueger and könig, my favourite pairing. ;(

usually, i'd believe that könig would be tender with you in the presence of krueger, knowing how hard and aggressive krueger can get during sex, especially when he's nearing his release. könig likes to roughen you up on his own; having full control and independence over you, owning you as if you're his mutt.

although, it doesn't take a lot for krueger to convince könig, especially having known each other for decades. getting drunk together, watching things escalate quickly as könig begins to get touchy, demanding you sit on his lap and palm his meaty cock through his boxers. he'll grin up at you, an eerily smile that forces you to be obedient our of pure fear for the two.

krueger will use your throat, while you bounce on könig's hard dick. riding his large, lengthy size and crying pathetically as his thick tip nuzzles against your cervix – sore and bruised, your lips forced open and wrapped around krueger's dick, guiding your head to his musky base. you're crying, mascara and drool all over your cheeks, slobbering like a messy slut. :(

könig finds himself feeling guilty at the sounds of your crying, gurgling and gagging; but, how can he focus on anything other than the tightness of your slick pussy around his stiffened dick? he'll hold you by your waist, fingers leaving indents as he holds you firmly, bouncing you up and down while slapping your tits ‘til they're sore, your nipples stinging and aching. könig will latch his teeth onto your nipples, pulling at them while you're forced to deep throat krueger, wet balls pressed against your chin, making you weep out and look up into krueger's eyes.

fuck, the sound of your crying is too much for könig to bear – be quiet, fucking shut up!! ...why are you so surprised, little lamb? you didn't think könig would yell at you like this in his drunken state? after krueger finally released his hot load onto your tongue, he felt more controlling, now being able to use you on his own, just like he enjoys.

slapping your face while you plead for him to stop, to be gentle. your eyes are wet, glistening as he pushes your back down against the leather couch, your sweaty skin sticking to the leather as he spreads your legs, spitting onto your wet pussy and sinking his large, hung cock back inside.

his thrusts are painful, and the firm grip on your jaw doesn't make you feel any better.

“quiet, or i’ll fuckin’ kill you...” he huffs out through strained and guttural growls, eyes wide with shock at his words, feeling as he hits even deeper, his large and scarred hand covering your mouth to reduce your screams, to muffle your pained cries for sympathy. you're such an attention seeking whore, mouse... has anyone ever told you how pathetic you look with tears rolling down your raw cheeks? babbling and sputtering nonsense as you begin to feel yourself tighten and throb, your orgasm washing over you, causing your back to arch and for könig to push deep into you, spitting in your face for being so naughty.

[machveil]

I would love to hear about your cod x pokemon thoughts 👀👀👀 do you have pokemon teams for any other characters??

nemjun, marry me💍✨ I have so much to say— also, happy Spooky Month, this actually took so long to write. I thought this was going out, like, Sept 28th lol

[note: I think having a full team is overrated, no need for filler when you can just give them Pokémon that feel right, yeah?]

CoD Headcanon: Pokémon Teams

to set up each part I’ll talk about each character minimally, list their teams, and then any amendments based on lore/skins/personal thoughts. characters include: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Captain John Price, Phillip Graves, König, and Sebastian Krueger

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

character analysis - as a Pokémon trainer, Simon already has some good motifs going on in his design. like any good trainer, we’re going off details and vibes. Simon gives me Dark and Ghost type Pokémon vibes, more so given by his skull balaclava and skeleton patterned gloves, not to mention his usually black colored clothes. thematically, I like to think a handful of his Pokémon know Destiny Bond - if Simon’s going down he’s taking you with him

Pokémon team

Dusknoir (caught as a Duskull when he first joins the army) - his ace Pokémon! honestly, Dusknoir is purely chosen off vibes, this man screams owning one. Dusknoir has been with Simon since the beginning of his military life, and subsequently is his first Pokémon. Simon trusts this spirit eating Pokémon with his life. I think it’s move set would be Destiny Bond/Mean Look/Payback/Shadow Ball with the ability Pressure

Polteageist (Phony) - it’s not just because he’s British… it’s also a Ghost type. it’s mostly to be funny, but I have a headcanon reason! I think Simon is a big tea drinker, loves a good cuppa, but he specifically likes black tea. from Pokémon Shield, “Leaving leftover black tea unattended is asking for this Pokémon to come along and pour itself into it, turning the tea into a new Polteageist.” - Simon leaving his tea unattended to get something only to come back to a Pokémon? he caught it while grumbling. I think it’s move set would be Strength Sap/Withdraw/Shell Smash/Shadow Ball with the Weak Armor ability

Gengar - the classic Pokémon fan in me wants Simon to own a Gengar, so he will. thematically, it’s not too bad. Gengar is the Shadow Pokémon, Simon gives off ‘moving around in shadows’ vibes. Simon “dad jokes” Riley is a dry comedy king - stay with me, Gengar usually lurk in shadows laughing… please imagine Simon cracking terrible jokes that his Gengar finds funny. the move set would be Destiny Bond/Night Shade/Spite/Dark Pulse and the ability Cursed Body

Houndstone - I was debating on this being in his team or an amendment Pokémon, but I think the skeletal vibes are too good to not be a main party member. fits Ghost’s vibe, that’s about it haha. from Pokémon Scarlet, “Houndstone spends most of its time sleeping in graveyards. Among all the dog Pokémon, this one is the most loyal to its master.”, and now we all ‘aww’, a loyal dog? give that to Simon right now! has the ability Fluffy and knows Rest/Dig/Destiny Bond(Egg Move)/Phantom Force

team amendments

Alone/Cerberus!Ghost would definitely have a Hydreigon, are you kidding me? looking past the obvious three heads, Hydreigon is the Brutal Pokémon! from Pókemon Shield, “The three heads take turns sinking their teeth into the opponent. Their attacks won’t slow down until their target goes down.” - does that sound familiar? I think it’s move set would be Scary Face/Work Up/Outrage/Body Slam, ability Levitate

Ghost Punk skin - Ghost would definitely own a Toxtricity (Low Key). we’re talking punk Simon Riley here, maybe Rockstar!Simon? the organ on it’s chest sounds like the strumming of a bass guitar, now just imagine Simon singing punk rock/metal. move set would be Scary Face/Overdrive/Boomburst/Shift Gear with the ability Punk Rock

John “Soap” MacTavish:

character analysis - we’re going purely off John’s personality and vibes with his Pokémon! John strikes me as a loyal, energetic man - his team should reflect that. Electric Pokémon would be up his alley, but Pokémon that are generally described as energetic would work too

Pokémon team

Boltund - off the bat, the first Pokémon that came to mind when I thought about Johnny. in my humble opinion, the perfect ace for Johnny! I headcanon Soap going on morning runs and - from the Sword Pokédex - Boltund can run for three full days nonstop, aka it can keep up with John during his morning runs. move set wise, I’m thinking Electric Terrain/Charge/Wild Charge/Crunch with the ability Competitive

Luxray - while it sleeps for long periods of time, his Luxray would be helpful on deployments. from Pokémon Sword, “Luxray can see through solid objects. It will instantly spot prey trying to hide behind walls, even if the walls are thick.”, and, while it mostly sees field time, I think a Luxray would balance Johnny out. while his other Pokémon are amped up, he can take a break with his more relaxed companion. I could see the move set being Thunder Wave/Scary Face/Roar/Volt Switch - I’d imagine his Luxray being a pivot/set up Pokémon, used for status conditions. Luxray’s ability would be Intimidate

Jolteon - are we sensing a pattern with dog-esk Pokémon? anyways, Jolteon is purely me wanting Johnny to have one - that’s it haha, I look at that man and go ‘hmmm, Jolteon’. move set would be Agility/Thunder Fang/Thunder/Last Resort with the ability Quick Feet

team amendments

I don’t particularly have any team amendments for Johnny

John Price:

analysis - this man gives me the vibe that he hunts game as a hobby. rather than focusing on his career, I’m focusing on that headcanon aspect. I think Price would have a lot of Normal type Pokémon, he just seems like an average Joe sort of guy off duty. Price strikes me as the type to always have a plan B, so a handful of his Pokémon know Last Resort

Pokémon team

Stoutland - Price owning a Stoutland just feels right, you know? definitely his ace, and as a partner for hunting game, if Price were to hunt in the winter… from Pokémon Y, “Being wrapped in its long fur is so comfortable that a person would be fine even overnight on a wintry mountain.”, it’s also a rescue Pokémon, so if someone needed help then Price could send Stoutland out. also, Stoutland just looks like it was made for Price, anyways, move set! Work Up/Retaliate/Reversal/Last Resort and the ability Intimidate

Unfezant (female) - back on the hunting theme, I think Price found a wounded Tranquill while he was out. after it healed up, it wouldn’t leave Price alone/return to the wild so he caught it. I think a female one would be better because, compared to the male, they can fly better. Price lets his Unfezant scout the area from above for any dangerous wild Pokémon (Ursaring, Trevenant, Bewear, etc). move set would be Tailwind/Roost/Steel Wing(TM)/Sky Attack and the ability Big Pecks

Dubwool (Shiny) - I like the shiny better, sue me. anyways, this is another one that just feels right. I look at Dubwool and go ‘hmmm, give it to Price’, if anything, maybe Retired!Price lives on a ranch with his fluffy friend. move set, I’m thinking Cotton Guard/Defense Curl/Double Kick/Last Resort, ability Steadfast

Skwovet - I think Price needs a critter, just a little guy. a low level, tiny pal - maybe Price just got attached to this fella that wouldn’t leave him alone, cue them bonding and Price feeding Skwovet some berries. move set would be Tail Whip/Bite/Stockpile/Swallow with the Cheek Pouch ability

amendments

I don’t really have any amendments for Price’s team, I just want the man to have some Normal type buddies to relax with

Phillip Graves:

analysis - Graves actually started this thought process for me because I thought it would be funny if he owned a Braviary lol, so here we are. for Graves I’m going off vibes and the rule of cool - I’m picking based on Pokémon I think he’d have in my opinion. also, I think Graves, out of everyone, would teach his Pokémon TMs the most

…don’t think too much about the move sets and abilities I gave his Pokémon

Pokémon team

Braviary - American king, give this man the fucking eagle Pokémon lmao. that’s it, that was my thought process, it’s his ace. move set would be Hone Claws/Aerial Ace/Rest(TM)/Shadow Ball(TM), yes, I’m giving it Shadow Ball purely for the Shadow Company, his entire team is a joke to me I’m sorry. anyways, ability is Defiant

Rotom - I feel like the tech aspect of Rotom being able to take over devices/appliances would be helpful to Graves? maybe not, but I also like the vibe Rotom gives off and my gut says to give it to Graves. move set would be Trick/Substitute/Eerie Impulse(TM)/Poltergeist(TM) with the Levitate ability

Drakloak - my brain says to give this man Drakloak (that will eventually evolve into Dragapult). I feel like, out of a handful of CoD characters, Graves would own a pseudo legendary. move set would be Lock On/Dragon Dance/Dragon Rush/Phantom Force and the ability Infiltrator

Mightyena - look! an actual headcannon! I feel like, if this were in the Pokémon universe, the Shadow Company would make for a good ‘evil team’. with that in mind, maybe it’s just Team Magma bouncing around inside my head, but I feel like Mightyena would be a good pick for Price. not just with the color scheme and general vibe from Mightyena, but when I think of evil teams in Pokémon Maxie’s Mightyena always comes to mind first. I’m thinking Moxie for the ability and Yawn/Roar/Double-Edge(TM)/Shadow Ball(TM) for the move set

team amendments

purely because it’s the Shadow Pokémon… maybe a Gengar? it’s only because of the Shadow Company connection, but I think it’d be funny. move set would be Spite/Shadow Ball/Shadow Punch/Imprison(TM) with the Cursed Body ability

König:

analysis - are we ready for some König bias? I am! sweet boy, I think he’d be a Ghost and Grass type trainer. I headcanon him being super into nature - hikes, camping, ect. also, he has a ghillie suit skin so… Grass type methinks. the Ghost type is also a little forest-y, haunted woods where he finds himself at home among the Grass and Ghost type critters. maybe he can empathize with the Ghost types because people deem them scary and not approachable? hmmm?

Pokémon team

Shuppet - Shuppet physically reminds me of König’s sniper hood. it’s why I originally was like ‘yup, give it to him’. from Pokémon Violet, “It feeds on the dark emotions of sadness and hatred, which make it grow steadily stronger.”, Pokémon Scarlet expands on that by saying ‘envy and malice’, I think König holds a lot of negative emotions from how he was treated in his childhood by his peers - fellow students making fun of him and generally tormenting him. I think Shuppet tries to cheer him up even though it’s primarily feeding off those emotions, it’s still his companion Pokémon, and one that recognizes the hurt he’s gone through. move set would be Curse/Spite/Shadow Sneak/Shadow Ball with the Cursed Body ability

Mimikyu - speaking of unapproachable, Mimikyu! König feels for the poor thing, trying to be liked by fitting in as a beloved Pokémon. they just get each other, maybe he found the little thing stalking the halls of KorTac (how’d it get in? who knows). while not his ace, König is very attached to his Mimikyu. move set would be Charm/Hone Claws/Shadow Claw/Play Rough with the ability Disguise

Eevee (will evolve into a Sylveon) - give this man comically small animals, please. he loves this Eevee, it will evolve into a Sylveon and he will pamper it even more if that’s possible. I just think that, if anyone gets a mascot Pokémon - let alone Eevee, it should be König. is it generically cute and fluffy? yes, and he eats that up. it’s move set would be Baby-Doll Eyes/Copycat/Bite/Yawn(Egg Move) with the Adaptability ability

Sawsbuck (caught as a Deerling) - please give the big man a deer!! he loves them - they’re dainty, extremely agile, the opposite of his towering build. a go-to hiking buddy for König, not that he doesn’t hike with other party members, but Sawsbuck really likes walking with him. move set would be Sunny Day(TM)/Horn Leech/Solar Beam/Zen Headbutt and the ability Chlorophyll

Trevenant - gut feeling, I just want König to have the big tree. he’s a big man, he can totally rock owning a big tree. anyways, another ‘König likes the forest’ Pokémon, and it’s a Grass and Ghost type, perfect. it would have the Natural Cure ability and know Forest’s Curse/Sunny Day/Burning Jealousy(TM)/Phantom Force

Decidueye - saved his ace for last. Decidueye is basically a sniper, you feel me? it has the bow and arrow situation going on, it’s Hidden Ability is Long Reach - sniper shit, it doesn’t make physical contact with any move. Grass/Ghost type? A+, perfect, astounding. you need to read both it’s Sun and Moon Pokédex entries because they read as ‘it’s a sniper’ and ‘it’s König’. from Sun, “It fires arrow quills from its wings with such precision, they can pierce a pebble at distances over a hundred yards.”, and from Moon, “Although basically cool and cautious, when it’s caught by surprise, it’s seized by panic.”, I rest my case. plus, plus, it’s literally a hooded Pokémon, it pulls on the ‘drawstrings’ of its hood to focus. literally made for König, I’m telling you it’s perfect. it’s move set would be Synthesis/Shadow Sneak/Spirit Shackle/Leaf Blade with the ability Long Reach

team amendments

during his time as an Insertion Specialist, I could see König having a Bewear. I feel like having it be a permanent member of his team wouldn’t fit - not because it doesn’t match him, it does. I just think Bewear would be… I don’t know, specifically for field work? it’s move set would definitely cater to busting tough stuff down, so, Strength/Thrash/Superpower/Double-Edge with the Fluffy ability

I think that, as a child, there was a stray Glameow in König’s neighborhood. not that he caught it, but I think he definitely hung out with it a lot CatDad!König bias. at some point, during his teens, it stopped coming around though. he still thinks about it, I think that it was decently low leveled so it’s move pool would be Scratch/Growl with the Own Tempo ability

Sebastian Krueger:

analysis - I feel like he’d be a Dragon and Grass type user, just me? I just look at his base design and see a Dragon and Grass trainer - you can fight me over it, I’d also except Bug or Poison type Krueger

Pokémon team

Tangrowth - I’m right end of discussion. give this man the big wad of sentient vines, it feels right in my soul. Krueger already uses that camouflage veil and dresses is greens, might as well give him some mobile cover too. Stun Spore/Poison Powder/Grassy Terrain/Power Whip with the Regenerator

Gloom - let me preface by saying all his team members are gut feelings and going with vibes because Gloom? Gloom just feels like a Krueger Pokémon. it’s a stunner/poisoner, I feel like Krueger can match Glooms energy, fucking people up— and other Pokémon, but like… fucking people up mostly. it would have Sunny Day(TM)/Sleep Powder/Petal Dance/Moonlight with the Chlorophyll ability

Carnivine - do I just want Krueger to have some James and Jesse type shenanigans with a Carnivine? …yeah. yeah, I do. but it also matches his vibe in my heart, a freaky little plant for a freaky little man. move set would be Leech Seed(Egg Move)/Leaf Tornado/Power Whip/Crunch with the Levitate ability

Haxorus - okay. tell me I’m wrong. do it, you can’t - Haxorus was made by Nintendo for Krueger. an armored dragon with axes made for… axing things down? perfect for Krueger, destruction buddies. has the ability Rivalry and knows Iron Tail(Egg Move)/Dragon Dance/Guillotine/Outrage

team amendments

Druddigon is another dragon that screams Krueger. it’s all rough n’ tough, a little cave dweller for the man? methinks it’s be an okay match. has the move set Glare(Egg Move)/Iron Head/Dragon Claw/Outrage with the ability Rough Skin

does Goodra necessarily have Krueger written all over it? no, but I want the man to have a gooey guy. Krueger is so freaky and aggressive and Goodra is so friend shaped, this is a classic duo if I’ve ever seen one. has the ability Hydration and knows Life Dew(Egg Move)/Rain Dance/Muddy Water/Power Whip

follow up thoughts:

I’m not sure if this would take place in the Pokémon world or if it’s just Call of Duty… but Pokémon exist. I’m not going to think too hard about that because it feels like opening a can of worms lol

these were just fun, I’ve been thinking about CoD x Pokémon for a couple weeks and it was nice putting this out here

I have my own Pokémon OC (Beatrice) and it was wild thinking of how she’d interact with them if this were in the Pokémon world

[nrdmssgs]

Serpent tongue

Masterlist Genre: Angst with a happy ending. Characters: Sebastian Krueger, Phayvanh "Nak" Sotsvahn belongs to @vasyandii, Olga 'Zhar" Samoilova TWs: strong language, description of military operation, canon typical violence AN: this is set somwhere arond the begining of Nak and Kruegers interactions, so they are a bit silly around each other. But I promise, they will be in love soon-ish.

“phai bo non maew, si kad kaem.*”  Words roll down Phayvanh`s tongue and echoe in the empty, dark hall.

Even if there are any other soldiers around at this late hour - they'll know better than to bother her. Because she's deep inside her thoughts - she's humming and mumbling the words, obscure to their ears. Her very own cantrips to keep others away, her mnemonic spells to help her with the routine. So what if it's just a lullaby? As long as it helps her shut her brain off and run the preparations mechanically…

“phai bo aem, kai noi tod taa.*” On this verse she always checks the flashlights before attaching them to her vest.

Click. The strobe flashlight works perfectly.

“phai bo aem…”

Click. The spare flashlight Illuminates Krueger's face in the semi-darkness.

Phayvanh doesn't flinch nor shriek from the suddenness of him appearing just a few meters behind. She turns off the light and watches Sebastian face.

Pathetic fucker had his own share of humiliation today, much to Nak's enjoyment. Oh, how cocky he was all the way to Zhar's office. Only to get dismissed at the very beginning of a debrief. “I'm not coming, but the baby is?” - Krueger's outburst was so loud, it seemed like the whole base would hear that: “What is that she can, and I don't?!”. Zhar didn't even raise her gaze from the documents, she was checking before the meeting start. But when she answered, Nak had to bite her cheeks to not grin victoriously. “The list would be long, Sebastian, but it would start with the fact, that Nak can obviously read the list of soldiers, I called for this debriefing. The list that contained her, and didn't contain you. Now stand up.” That was the first time she looked up since they gathered around her desk. “And leave my office. I have soldiers to prepare for the mission.”

And just like that the notorious ‘golden boy’, ‘Zhars favorite’, ‘the faceless Chimera’ was shown his place. So it was only natural for him to come mock Phayvanh later, when the audience is not that big.

“Serpent tongue!” His idiotic smile doesn't bode well.

“Going straight for racism this time, moron?” Nak feels almost disappointed about how plain Krueger's attack is. Even calling her little baby hit harder than this bullshit.

“No, I… Wait-wait!” He jumps closer to the table, where she prepares her tactical vest to not get lost from her gaze. “I meant it in a good way! Like these Lao letters, they look like little snakes! I looked it up and there is that one like a confused snake, another one like a happy snake, a bunch of letters with a snake that looks at its own tail. They are lovely.”

Since when this idiot has an interest for Lao alphabet? 

“What you're gonna say, I'm seeing shit? C`mon, admit it, your letters are beautiful, but it's easy to memorize them when you think of them as little snakes. Serpent tongue.” He looks so proud, as if he just solved one of Landaus problems, not invented some nonsense. 

“Gonna say, that a confused snake, watching his own tail, has more brainpower than you.” Phayvanh goes back to preparation routine, trying to ignore Krueger, who seems to not be in a hurry to leave her alone.

They spend a few long minutes in silence, which is a good thing for Nak. She's not ready for questions like ‘why don't you sleep before the important mission?’, ‘is it really just a preparation, or are nervously fidgeting your own equipment?’, ‘are you afraid to turn out worse than me?’. Krueger takes a step to the desk and start helping her arrange all the essentials. She tolerates it, but everything has its limits. Phayvanhs patience cracks when Sebastian reaches out to one of her push daggers. Her hand is quicker, her smooth movements are more precise, and the blade freezes only in mere centimeters away from a vein pulsing on Kruegers neck. A bold hint, but quite a clear one.

“I just wanted to help.” He raises hands in a surrendering gesture. “Olga likely threw a ton of timings, plans, routes and whatsoever at you. The first time with her is overwhelming, I know. There must be a few ‘tiers’ of action plans for each of you, right?”

Nak doesn't lower her dagger, but nods. There were, indeed, different plans for each step of her part in the mission. She didn't quite catch, why would she need a plan B, С and so on. She either does her job or dies trying - that was always how it went. 

“Listen, if anything goes south - just don't hesitate and go straight to the plan B, ok? Forget commander's bullshit about top-tier goals and minimum goals. She always gets what she needs in the end and that is her ‘least satisfied’ plan. Always. So you worry about yourself, ok? Not the goal or plan A.”

Phayvanh doesn't believe her ears. So the golden boy doesn't always hit the top goal? That spoiled brat that dares calling her a baby, turns into a loser, once he's given freedom to operate on any level besides perfect? Oh, he didn't actually hear the real Serpents tongue. The one that pushes her to the limits, demands no less than perfection, accepts no excuses. Krueger wouldn't last a week with that voice ringing in his ears.

“There are either perfect results or no results.” Nak is kind enough to tell this in English, so Krueger understands one of the basis principles, that the Serpent once taught her. 

***

The mission under Zhars command feels different from what is going on, when Nikolai is around. With him It's always about what you do in the end. But with his second in command, it's about how you do it. 

Naks route is planned to the last meter, her timing has limits of steel - not only can't she fall behind - she will ruin everything, should she appear at her next point too soon. She gets a good reminder, when the street, she is supposed to enter 10 minutes later is being turned into a bloodbath with a drone squadron just before her eyes. Phayvanh hides around the corner of a building and swears while checking her watch.

“Perfect result or no result.” A too familiar voice sounds in her head. But she ignores it.

It works for some time. Nak follows the path of fire, the path paved by other Chimeras and brings death to her objectives. Plan A works so well - they are never prepared to meet her.

It almost feels too easy, until it doesn't. One of them turns out too massive, too full of life, too stubborn. One second Phayvanh has him in her hands, the other she's drowning in a muddy puddle with his hands pushing her deeper. She knows, this is not the end of her: Nak had a fair share of similar situations, both on the field and at the training. It takes just a little patience and dexterity to turn the fight upside down. After all, it's him trying to balance in a sloppy mud. She tries to wiggle her way out of his clasp… and fails. Her body freezes struck by a terrifying flashback. 

“Perfect result or no result!”  Nagas voice. She was here already. Face pushed deep in filthy water, subtle teenage body struggling to break free from old man's grip. 

He was shouting at her. Every time she dared to deliver anything but the perfect result - there was a punishment to come. And there were screams. Not her - Naga made sure, she couldn't even breathe. He was the one screaming. 

“Perfect result or no result!”

She hates this voice for keeping her awake before the mission, for destroying her every time anyone refers to her as a child, for drowning her mind in terror. The reals Serpents tongue is made of pain, humiliation and endless requirements, that she doesn't fulfill. Not of ‘funny snaky letters’, Sebastian was babbling about.

Nak gathers all her strength, every part of her body feels like a coiled spring waiting to set loose. And she snaps. The poor fucker believed, he had her. Well his mistake. Because now Phayvanh is on top, and she doesn't even need a knife to end his pathetic life. 

Strangling him with her bare hands, she shouts “shut up” on and on. As if the voice taunting her doesn't echo just in her mind. It feels like forever before he stops struggling. But when she lets go of him - a barely audible breath leaves his chest. 

It drives her mad. After all she's done - he has an audacity to live on? So she hits face. Hard. And then again. And again.

She snaps out of it only, when a familiar voice appears behind her. “Nak? You're hurt?” Phayvanh turns back and meets Zhars gaze.

“Komandir? Ya seichas… Ya. Ya s nim razberus`!*” For some reason Nak answered in Russian despite Olga rarely using it.

“He's long gone, soldier.” Zhar glances at the guy lying on the ground under Nak and Phayvanh follows her gaze.

Her enemy has no recognizable face anymore, the puddle of mud, he's buried in turns red. His body gave up a long time ago, but Nak was too blinded by painful memories to recognize it.

An unsettling thought appears in Naks head. How long has she spent here over the dead body? She checks her watches and frowns. Too long. She's supposed to be elsewhere a long time ago.

“Go, Nak. Skip your next point, you're on route B now.” Zhar doesn't raise her voice - she never does. But this time Phayvanh wishes she would. 

“Perfect result or no result.”

That only means one thing - she failed. And she deserves to be screamed at. She desperately tries to fight the numbness off, but can't even make herself get up.

Better shout at her. She's used to it.

Olga touches her shoulder and Nak flinches. She remembers only Zhars eyes moving closer and a few words in a low voice.

“Get up and go. Now.”

She stands up and doesn't go away - she flies as far as she can. Phayvanh runs as fast as she can, as if that can help her escape the guilt building up. Her body accomplishes the plan B automatically. Point after point, objective after objective. 

She is restless on their way back, she barely reacts to her squadmates questions and commentaries. Even at the Chimera base, Nak can't seem to slow down and keeps herself occupied until late night.

***

“phai bo non maew, si kad kaem.*”  Words roll down Phayvanh`s tongue and echo in the empty, dark hall. A wet mop draws intricate wet patterns on the floor.

It was nobody's order - Phayvanh just couldn't calm down. So she rearranged all her stuff. Twice. And then she tidied up their armory room. And another one. And then she mopped.

It's a good thing, Nikolai's base is so huge - lots to do in the middle of the night, while others sleep. 

“phai bo aem, kai noi tod taa.*” On this verse she usually enters ladies locker room, when she mops.

Click. The light turns on, illuminating the seemingly clean floor. Well, an extra cleaning never hurt nobody…

“Potushi svet, ya tebya umolyaiu.*” Olgas voice. Only it sounds husky and tired, as if she was crying or coughing for a long time.

Nak turns and sees her, sitting on the floor. The ever so serious, busy, on-her-way-somewhere-else commander curled up against a wall like a lost child. Zhars face is red, closed eyes swollen, cheeks wet. 

Phayvanh rushes on her knees, pushing the mop away and proceeds straight to inspecting Olgas body, searching for a wound. But her commander only smiles.

“Phay, it's only the tear gas.”

“But… It's been-”

“You live to my age - you'll wonder, how could your body come back to normal so fast back when you were 20. Now please turn out that light.”

Nak does as she told and comes back to sit before Olga. She doesn't care if by doing so she'll provoke her executive to get angry at her.

“I'm not leaving you here, commander. Let's get you to the medbay.” She takes Zhars hand and tries to pull her, but Olga doesn't move.

“I am fine. Just need to sit here for a bit, let my eyes rest.” Zhar stretches her back and reaches out into the void before her, blindlessly searching for Nak. “Stay with me for a bit, ok?”

“I don't understand.” Phayvanh moves closer and catches Olgas hand, letting her know, shes not leaving. “What are you doing here? You have your office.”

“And you have your room, soldier.” Smile never leaves Zhars face. “Yet here we are.”

They sit next to each other in silence for some time. Naks eyes get used to a dim emergency exit light that barely illuminates a small part of the locker room. And then Olga speaks again, as if there was no pause.

“I come here for them.” She points at an old dusty mirror, taken from the wall long before Nak joined the Chimera. One can barely recognize their reflection in the mirror - it is too dirty. “If you find just the right angle and look long enough - you will see your legs, your chest and arms, but not your face. When you sit right - yours hidden in the shadow. I like to imagine - I'm seeing everything, that's wrong with me in these moments. Everybody, who wronged me. And then we talk.”

Nak tries to catch a glimpse of any reflection in the mirror, but barely sees anything. So she leans closer and cranes his neck.

“See a familiar face?” Zhars hand rests on Phayvanhs back. Usually Nak would avoid any informal physical contact, but this time it feels right, to let Olga know, she isn't alone. 

“...nope, I see nobody, ma`am.”

“Nobody punished you for aiming anywhere but the ideal?” Now that's a sucker punch. A deserved one, as Naks confusion was painfully obvious to her commander today. But it still hits hard. So she nods.

“I'll do better next-”

“No. After what they have done to you - this is what you're telling them?”

“Commander, I'm telling that you.”

“Fuck me, Phay. I'm a hired soldier, just like you. One word from Nikolai and I won’t be here tomorrow. Krueger will throw a tantrum, but…” Zhar chuckles. “Talk to them. This isn't about me.”

Naks looks in the darkening void of the mirror and sighs. She doesnt even know, where to start, to not sound immature and lose her job right away.

“Let me put the other way: think of what the would tell you right now.”

That Nak knows for sure. Even if Naga is nowhere around - she always knows what exactly would he say.

“Hed ask me if im going to cry.”

“We can cry, Phay. Ive been doing it for past few hours. Well, because of dry eyes, but that still counts.”

“Oh, I won't cry. Not for him. Never.” Nak can't take her eyes of the mirror. The view is somehow mesmerizing: she sees her body, but her face remains in the shadow.

For a split second she thinks, if she should speak in Lao. Nobody in Chimera talks it. She is safe to say whatever, she wants. But then she thinks, that this is exactly what Naga would want: her keeping her pain all to herself. So that his serpent tongue can torture her soul unbothered.

She takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

“Well maybe I should be thanking you. You prepared me for all this shit at a young age. Comrades selling me lies, people betraying me, friends seeing me as just a kid. The next time id pour some love out - ill never get back a single drop of it. You prepared me for that. And for always being not enough. You did it out of the best intentions, I know. You prepared me for the worst in my life. By being it.”

The silence, that falls on her after that, is deafening. But for some reason, Nak feels better for the first time since she came back to senses on the battlefield. 

Then she feels hands, someones hands hugging her shoulders. There are no words left for this room or this mirror today. But this wordlessness is a happy thing.

*phai bo non maew, si kad kaem. - (Lao phonetic) If you don't sleep, ghost cats will bite your cheeks. 

*phai bo aem, kai noi tod taa  - (Lao phonetic) If you don't shut your eyes, tiny chicks will peck them. 

*Komandir? Ya seichas… Ya. Ya s nim razberus`! - (Russian phonetic) Commander? I'm going to… I. I'm going to deal with him!

*Potushi svet, ya tebya umolyaiu. - (Russian phonetic) turn off the light, I beg you.