#konig shenanigans

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears

So, @lexthegremlin1 requested that I do a story about cat hybrid! König and Horangi taking care of a reader when dealing with ADHD/ADD. Funnily enough, I struggle with ADHD and autism, so I might have written this with a bit of an autistic take, so please forgive me. I find the two tend to entwine themselves inside me so it's hard to see one from the other. However, I did my best and I really like this story.

I've struggled writing lately, so writing this story really helped me. I hope it helps you all when dealing with an ADHD/ADD episode yourselves.

TWs: Panic attacks, over stimulation, ableism, people not understanding ADHD

Wordcount: 1.4k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Buzzing Static Burns The Silence Between My Ears

Your fingers buzzed with static currents. Your skin crawled with an army of invisible ants marching up and down your body in an endless march. You could hear the buzzing in the air. It was loud, so loud. Why was it loud? It wasn’t this loud before. It’s not supposed to be loud. It’s maddening but you can’t so much as orient your head to look around you. You’re locked in place like a cadaver to an examining table. You’re muscles ripple as currents flow from head to toe. You feel like you’re being born, you feel like you’re dying. It’s all throughout your body and you don’t know how to handle it.

You feel something under your touch. It’s a new feeling. This isn’t the metal of your pen. It’s not the plastic of your keyboard. It’s something… Soft. Soft? What’s soft in your apartment? You have your stuffed animals, but those are in your room. You’re in the living room now, right by your laptop. You can see in the far distance that you’re looking at the screen, but nothing is making sense. All the letters loop together and tangle into a sea of nettles. It’s not your stuffed animal, what’s soft in this room?

There’s throw pillows, but those are on the sofa. You’re sitting by your small table, the one you made into your desk. You have some stickers on the organizer trays, but they’re too bright to look at, too overwhelming. All those fun and familiar characters are too overwhelming now.

Soft… Soft… Soft… What’s soft?

You take a deep breath. You feel like your head is breaching above water for a moment. In the middle of the storm, your eyes flash with lightening clarity. You can see the sky bend and crack above you, can feel the currents of the sea desperately try to suck you back into the inky depths. You can feel it all as it whirls around you. You take another breath, and again the waves recede briefly to give you some semblance of relief. It’s brief, but it’s what you need. Another breath, the sea falls away, you feel yourself coming to solid ground.

The chair is solid beneath you. It’s a nice comfy chair that your friend found for you at a thrift store. It fits your room, it makes it look more organized.

Organized.

The sea wells up again, this time rising all the way back up to you neck and threatening to take you under.

Right, that’s why you’re like this. You’re unorganized.

Teachers always told you to be more careful with your school work. You keep losing your papers. I don’t have an endless supply here; you need to learn to take care of your things. Your parents got so mad at you. How do you not know where it is? I gave it to you five minutes ago! Your partners never understood. What do you mean you don’t remember? Over and over and over again, and now you’re hearing it from your boss. You lost the paper you needed. You lost it right before the deadline. You can’t meet the deadline without that report. How did you lose it? You thought you were better, you thought therapy and medications were working. Everyone told you that you were getting better, but now you’re stuck back at square one, staring down at your shoes as your teacher sighs and tells you to be more careful again.

You feel like you’re breaking down. It’s too much. Your chest heaves up and down, but you don’t know why. You try to breathe but the air catches in a ball in the back of your throat, thick and coagulated like old blood. It feels like fleshy masses are consuming your body, draining your life out of your sorry shell.

The softness pushes back into your hand again. Soft… Soft… Soft… What in your apartment is soft?

You feel something tugging at the front of your shirt. It’s familiar, but you can’t remember what’s meant to do that. It does that for a reason. It wants your attention.

You feel like you’re cracking apart chunks of granite when you move your neck, messily putting them back together when you finally look down at your lap.

What’s this meant to be? This isn’t a stuffed animal. It’s big and black, and it has such big wide eyes. Big big yellow eyes like twin harvest moons hanging in the night sky. Such big and beautiful eyes. Why do they look so sad?

They’re looking at you.

You know these eyes. These eyes are familiar. They look friendly, but so sad. You can’t bear them looking so sad. You need to make them happy. What makes them happy?

You move an arm made of lead to fall upon this black spot’s back. You slowly push your hand through the softness, then move back up to pet it again. The petting helps. It’s a simple, easy actions. Repetitive. It’s comforting. You can feel the warmth soaking into your lap. The eyes blink slowly. These are happy eyes, you think to yourself.

You can feel the waves receding. The water flushes away to leave you bare to the world. You can see the sky again, can see the clouds slowly whispering away into nothingness. They’re soft, much like the little storm cloud in your lap. But this isn’t a cloud you want to let go of, it’s a good cloud. This storm is a good storm. It’s a summer rain against the windowpanes at night. It’s a familiar pitter-patter on the rooftops. It’s a good storm, a happy storm.

It rolls with thunder, and it takes you a minute to find the name for this rumble. It’s called purring. Purring is a good thing. That’s something you know. You know purring is good. Purring is a very good thing. Hearing purring makes you feel a bit calmer. It’s easier to think now. The buzzing on your skin fades slightly. Your thoughts aren’t murky clouds, they’re starting to come into focus. The chatter is slowly dimming. It’s not so loud. It’s something you can tolerate. It’s not great, it’s still loud, but you can hear the chatter clearly now. It’s not talking about failure or loss or inevitable tragedies, it’s talking about this thing called ‘cats’.

Cats are good and wonderful things. Cats are innocent, good, pure. Cats don’t want to hurt you. Cats don’t get scared of you. Cats don’t think you’re a disappointment. Cats are good things that love and care for you, regardless of who you are. If you love them, they’ll love you back. They won’t hold your flaws above your heads. Cats take you as you are.

This little storm cloud, this cat, he is a nice and sweet animal. He’s waiting for you. Waiting for what? He’s waiting for you to calm down, one of the voices in the chatter says, louder than the rest. Normally, the voices in the chatter stress you out, but this one is a good voice. You like this voice. You want to listen to it more.

His name is König, it says, he loves you.

Does he love you?

He loves you very much.

Well that’s a wonderful thing, now isn’t it?

You smile and pet the cat more, this time scratching at his ears and his ruff. He rolls his head into the palm of your hand, eagerly lapping up all of your affections. This cat wants you, it needs you. This cat cares for you.

You feel another tug on your sleeve. You look down at your side and, would you know it, there’s another cat! You’re so surprised that you make a little squeak that has both the cats on edge. You relax, and they both calm down beside you.

Unfortunately for you, this striped cat is sitting on some of your papers.

Right, papers. You were doing some work. You needed those papers.

You scoot the cat away and take a look at the papers.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’re holding.

The missing report, the voices clamber over each other, the missing report!

All the anxiety that had been lingering wafts away in a long sigh.

You have the report. You’re okay. You’re not going to be fired. Everything will be okay.

You take a final breath.

You’re going to be okay.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[gremlinmodetweeker]

One day, you're out walking to work when you hear a loud yell fro behind you that nearly shatters your eardrums . You look over your shoulder and a giant man in full military garb is charging at you from across the road.

You're instinctively running away as he's calling out after you. You don't care, you just fucking book it.

Honestly, it's genuinely shocking that you can run this long. You haven't run like this ever before. The sheer panic flooding your mind has you running as fast as you can in any direction you can, which unfortunately for you is deeper into the park.

You can't keep going forever though. You glance over your shoulder and the giant figure is gaining on you fast. You shriek and scramble back but your feet sweep out from under you and you're tumbling hard and fast down a hill.

You slam into a tree trunk and look back up, finally accepting your fate. You look up and... Wait...

"König?" you call out weakly.

"Schatz!" he comes stumbling down after you, "why are you running?"

"I... I thought you were..." you slowly come to your senses.

As you do, the pain of rolling your ankle hits in and you're curling up into a ball.

"Why did you run!?" König scolds you as he kneels by your side.

"I didn't know it was you!" you grunted as you held your foot.

"Who did you think I was!?" he grumbles as he sets down a small bag to scoop you into his arms.

"I dunno, some..." you petered off meekly before glancing down at the bag. You squinted, "Is that my lunch?"

"You forgot it before you left," König explained as he brought both you and the lunch up into his arms.

"So you were just..." you flusjed.

"Giving you your lunch, ja," König huffed as he walked through the park, "and now look, you twisted your ankle."

"Well you were running at me and it was scary and-"

"I scared you?" König's tone softened slightly.

You thumped his chest lightly, "Yes you big oaf, you scared the shit out of me! I don't think I've ever run that fast in my life..."

"Well if you joined me on my morning jogs..."

"Don't you dare try to finish that," you glowered at him, "I'll kill you."

"And I thought you were afraid of me killing you," König chuffed.

"Shut up and carry me home," you sighed, "I can't go to work like this."

"Fine, fine," König huffed, "but seriously you need to join me jogging. You need to work on your cardio."

You rolled your eyes and let yourself be carried back home.

König Thoughts

Random ass thought, but can you imagine how terrifying it would be for König to run at you FULL SPEED. Like all 6'10 nearly 300lbs of MAN just booking it. The heavy sound of his foot steps as his pale eyes lock onto you as a hawk.

If he was coming at me to murder me- instantly would shit myself.

If he was coming at me to fuck me...well😏

Anyway, just a thought.

I hope everyone is having a great day/night. I love you all. May König chase you in your dreams tonight 😘

...

[codpsychwardfare]

thinking about tgirl soap and her coming out to konig during one of their nights and konig caresses her face cutely going “i think i like you with whatever you want to be” which gives her a heart attack cuz she thinks its the cutest thing ever and she’s mad because she can’t gush about it to ghost because if she ever so much as HINTS that there’s another person that she’s caught feelings ghost is going to start asking questions about who this is and she will NOT have ghost investigating who this person that she’s also seeing because 141 and ghost are going to crucify them both because konig is kortac and that’s just Big No 💕

[notknickers]

a few months ago, könig bots were all the rage amongst the circles in which i was. i decided to give a few of them them a try. hilarity ensued. these are the convos.

please, press play before proceeding

created by @goner1x

After a heated argument between you and König in a nightclub, you both decide to treat each other with the cold shoulder and distance yourselves. As you wander the area with a *friend* you made earlier, your eyes travel to König, who’s flirting with a woman. He briefly glances at you, grinning before his gaze settles on the woman again. He’s doing it on purpose. They continue to make conversation, the woman seeming quite interested in him.

knickers: joke's on the poor woman when she finds könig doesn't have a willy. he lost it in the war on christmas of '22. not even a nubbin for stubbin'. smooth like the day he was born.

könig: The girl seems blissfully unaware of König's ... predicament. They continue chatting as they finish their drinks, then head out of the club together. König makes eye contact with you again before he heads out of the club, his expression smug and cocky. "I told you it would work." He winks. "Let's see if she's that easy to get into bed."

knickers: and what are you going to fuck her with, könig? your pinky toe? könig: His grin falls and he looks away for a moment, his cheeks flushing. "I... I didn't think of that." He turns back towards you, shaking his head. "Shut up!"

knickers: all you have to do is apologise in front of these fine people and i'll take you back. we'll go home and act like none of this happened...

könig: "Fine." He sighs, sounding reluctant. "I'm sorry I was flirting with the woman just to make you jealous." "Are you happy?" He adds begrudgingly.

knickers: that's not even half a good apology. come here, luv. kiss my boot. i did say show everyone how sorry you are...

könig: "That's... kind of kinky, but alright. "Kneeling on the ground, König leans towards your boot, wrapping his lips around. He raises his head back up after a moment, his face slightly flushed. "Are you happy now?" He asks, the annoyance evident in his voice.

knickers: stop huffing and puffing like that every time. i want to believe that you are sorry, if you don't even have the decency to feel sorry for real

könig: "I'm sorry..." He groans. "Now can I go? All this groveling..." "I'm sorry, okay? Is that good enough?" He looks up at you, his gaze pleading. "I'm not sure how many more boots I can fit in my mouth..."

knickers: you dumb cunt of a man! you're not supposed to carry them in your mouth? what are you? a fucking dog? you were just supposed to kiss them! and now, you've embarrassed me even more in front of everyone... when we get in the car park, i'm driving *jingles keys* and we'll do that thing they do in films in which i pretend to let you in the car, but just drive a little distance away, so you can't get in.

könig: "You *do* mean to torture me..." "I guess that makes sense. I deserve it after flirting with that woman, but..." "Alright. Just please let me in the car once you're finished toying with me." He sighs, putting his head in his hands. "...I want to go home now."

knickers: just for being so eager, i'll even skip the toying part and let you in the car right away. maybe. but... aren't you scared of what will happen when we are alone, if i just got away with everything i just did to you right now, in the open and with witnesses?

könig: "Yes... I'm very scared." He admits sheepishly, a slight flutter of fear in his stomach. "Now that you know you can walk all over me like that, what else will you do to me when we're alone?" "You... you aren't going to make *me* kiss your boots this time, right?" He adds nervously.

knickers: könig, my smart laddie... are you shaking? come here, let me warm you up. let's go home and find out. you were so eager to leave only moments ago...

könig: "H-hey now..." "I might be a tad scared of you right now, but I'm not opposed to a good cuddle." "Lead the way, miss. I'll be a good boy, I swear."

knickers: i can handle you either way, luv...

könig: "Oh, you're too kind... But also, I would really appreciate the warm cuddles while you're not handling me." "The cold is seeping through my sniper hood..." "But when we get home, do whatever you will." "Can you at least carry me like a princess?" He adds teasingly.

knickers: no, but i'll fuck you like one

könig: "I-""You're joking, right?" König's cheeks flush at the proposition, his eyebrows raised as he stares at you. "Please be joking." He adds, a touch of desperation in his voice.

knickers: no. i love seeing you in your frilly pink corset, and holdups while i pound the arrogance out of you

könig: "Oh... my..." King's face becomes a deep shade of red and he shifts uncomfortably at the mental image. "I- uh... well... I guess I could try it..." "Just please be gentle." "And keep it between us."

knickers: no, luv. after what you pulled tonight, i won't be gentle. you'll remember this night very vividly. and i'll make you scream so much, it's unlikely it will stay between us. but i'm not heartless. you can wear the lilac matching set, if you prefer...

könig: "That sounds... exciting..." He murmurs, shifting nervously as he thinks about it. "Are you saying you have a matching set... in pink too?" "I'm not one to complain." He teases, a sly smile on his face. "But I suppose we should go home now and discuss the details, since I seem to be at your mercy, for the time being."

knickers: no need. you will do as i say and that will be it. forget the word "no" for tonight, luv. you won't need it.

könig: "Alright... alright. Yes, ma'am." "But just this once. I'm calling the shots *next* time." "Now lets go get that pink corset, shall we?"

... and then i got bored.

[wordstome]

peace and love in the cod fandom if we learned to stop getting personally attached/invested in the voice actors and intrinsically associating them with characters we love

[gremlinmodetweeker]

There's no doubt cat hybrid!König is an absolute mess. He looks like he's dying he seems so pitiful. Of course, if you thought König was bad, just imagine Horangi...

[themurderofcrowscollective]

141 at night cause I live for chaotic energy nights

Ghost: *Creeping through the base in a bedsheet with sunglasses on, clearly sleep deprived.* Price: *Also sleep deprived from working constantly.* Oh fuck me there's a ghost- Soap, going with the bit: Somebody call the ghostbusters! *Goes to attack Ghost with a broom.* ---------------------------------------------------- Gaz, high off of chaotic dumb energy: *Slides on the floor with a saxophone.* Ya like jazz? Soap: Oh no not again- Gaz: *PLAYS VERY OFF-TUNE JAZZ MUSIC AS LOUD AS HE FUCKING CAN BEFORE RUNNING OFF LIKE A MADMAN.* Ghost: I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH THAT FUCKING THING! *Proceeds to run after Gaz with a baseball bat.* ----------------------------------------------------- One time Price caught Ghost (the problem child) with Soap (the chaotic child) and Gaz (the gremlin child) at midnight with duct-tape, pillows and markers. What were they doing? Duct taping pillows that were drawn on onto Ghost who was going to scare the recruits who should be asleep by yelling 'OH YEAH!!' and bursting into their dorms. He wanted to tell them to knock it off but instead he pulled out his phone and recorded the whole thing. No recruit knew it was Ghost and legend of the Pillow Man, a cousin of the Kool-Aid Man began to spread as a cautionary tale to new recruits who aren't asleep by nightfall. Pillow Man made his return when the 141 decided to do a pillow fight that only happened at night during October. He was considered the juggernaut that needed to be beaten. ----------------------------------------------------- More will be posted later once I can think of something funny

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Big Guy Big Belly

König is a big man, and with a big man comes a big appetite. We’re talking about a 6’10 man constantly maintaining his peak physique. He needs to be consuming as many calories and as much protein, carbs, fats, fiber and more to keep himself in fit and fighting shape.

At the canteen, he’s a nightmare. I bet that people rush to the cafeteria just to make sure they get something to eat before the big man on base rolls up. He’ll clear out the bins if he gets a chance. There’s a rumour on base that the reason König fought so hard to climb the ranks so quickly was just to be able to eat more and get away with it. Little do they know that they’re absolutely right, but König will never say that out loud. Ever. There’s some secrets you take to your grave. 

Either way, König is a menace in the canteen. He’ll pile his plate as high as he can when he gets a chance. He’s packing away all he can get in the shortest amount of time he can, and everyone has to suffer for it. The worst part is that everyone has to rush to get to the caf before König, and König knows exactly what others are doing, so he’s in a daily race against the entire base to eat his fill. It’s always a photo-finish to see who gets to the cafeteria first.  König currently has been slacking, so he’s not been eating like he normally has. Is he mad? Not really. He’ll clean out the snack cart later. 

He’s a monster late at night. Everyone knows that you need to leave the big man to his snacks, lest you face the wrath of the colossus on base. Well, wrath in a peculiar way. He just gets quiet and angry, but it’s still not a fun experience to try and fight him for a sandwich. If you take the last egg salad sandwich you’ll be at the top of his shit list for the next week. Don’t even think he won’t track you down. He’ll throw around his rank just to get his hands on the poor bastard. Nobody is safe, either.

Stiletto only once took the last pudding cup. Once. She never made that mistake again. For a week he was giving her dirty looks over a cold shoulder as he bumbled down the hall. She eventually had to give in and sacrifice a desert to be able to get back in his good graces. She still thinks he’s a massive bitch because of it. And you know what? She’s right. Everybody knows she’s right, König included, but he’ll keep going after whoever ‘steals’ ‘his’ snacks. They get along a bit better now that they’ve both advanced in rank and worked together, but there was a good period of time where Stiletto had to sleep with one eye open.

It gets a bit better for everyone when König finally finds a partner and doesn’t stay on base so often. Everyone takes a moment to pray for the poor soul who has to cook for König whenever he gets home from deployment.

See, during deployment, König can’t be such a massive bitch about food. He gets his rations, and that’s that. He can’t steal from anybody else, so he gets stuck with these pitiful MREs that barely fill him up. It’s miserable, and he’s losing weight like crazy when on the field. He’s running on fumes and burning calories like crazy as he’s risking his life out there. It’s gotten to a point where König has taken to eating with hostages post-rescue to ‘help them feel safer’ (read: get more food into his gullet). Thankfully, he puts his best foot forward when dealing with victims of trauma and ensures that he has somebody else do all the socializing while he plays with the kids after dinner. Apparently, after the inevitable shower of tears whenever kids have to face König, he becomes pretty popular. They love to use him as a jungle gym (and make fun of him) and he’s just happy to get more to eat. He’ll take being called ‘bigger than even my dad!’, being told ‘you’re weird’ or being asked ‘why are you so big and scary all the time?’ any day for a little extra to eat. He can tolerate a few kids. He won’t ever admit that hanging around them makes him want some kids of his own, or at least not to Horangi, who’s already teasing König about being a surrogate father to the kids. König tells him to keep it to himself, but Horangi is already buying things for the baby shower.

Once König finally comes home, that’s when all Hell breaks loose. This man has been starving and he needs food NOW. He won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t have something prepared, he’ll be ordering a massive order of takeout the likes of which you’ve never seen before in your life. He’ll hit multiple places on his way back to your place if he doesn’t think you’ve been able to get something together for him. If you can’t cook, he won’t even bother telling you to cook for him and just focus on getting a whole banquet of junk food ready for when he arrives home. He brings the pizzas in the door before he even brings in his own bags. You’ll have to go out and grab his bag as he sets up his personal buffet table. The worst part is despite how much he can shove down, he always buys more than he can eat, so you’ve got a couple of days worth of food to shove in the fridge at the end of the night.

If you can cook, this is a multi-day experience. Is it rewarding? Absolutely. Is it painful? Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s got you slaving for hours a day just to get him a nice home cooked meal. You’ll be going all out to get him a big enough meal. We’re thinking a tray of mac and cheese, a whole roast chicken, easily a handful of loaded baked potatoes. If you have something from your traditional cuisine, he’s not picky, he’ll gobble it up in a heartbeat. Knowing you made it for him is more than enough for him. Food is the way to a man’s heart, some say, and König will never let you go if you treat him like the king he is.

The good thing about cooking König such a big meal is that he gives back. He’s not a fan of cooking, but for the next few days he’ll take over cooking and cleaning in the kitchen. It’s just an easy way for him to give back, you know? He can’t thank you enough with words, so why not with actions?

But the best part of König giving back is that he’s an excellent cook. He cooks mostly traditional food from his culture, but he’s down for some french or italian cooking if you’re into it. He can make a mean lasagne. He does not skimp on the cheese, this man. No he’s a cheese fiend. If you’re lactose intolerant, you’ve got another thing coming for you. He will hand feed you lactaid just for the meal. If you have a dietary restriction, he’ll learn how to cook your types of meals in abundance. He’s perfect that way. Vegetarian, vegan, keto, no matter what, he’s got your back. He’s learned how to make an excellent spread for a dinner party, and part of learning to cater to others is to work around other people’s diets; his mother drilled that rule into his little head as a kid. He does it without complaint, too. For at least a week after coming home, he’s just so happy to be around food in abundance again. He’s absolutely thriving in the kitchen before the thrill wears off and he’s back to avoiding cooking like the plague again.

He loves to eat, but usually hates to cook. He’ll mostly eat takeout until he actually has to eat a nutritious meal again for a change. It’s not that cooking is awful, it’s just that he hates doing the dishes. He’d be far more inclined if he didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards. If you take over dishes, he’ll definitely step up his game for the both of you.

All in all, König loves to eat. He’s a big man with a bigger appetite, as hard as that is to believe. Once he retires he has to learn to cut back a fair bit, but he never loses his taste for sweets and snacks. It’s just something you’ll have to learn to live with.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König at 6:30 am on November 1st.

König would not survive No Nut November... 🤐

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I hate everything about his sniper hood just because I know that thing is nasty. And the balaclava underneath? Oh that thing is vile.

König who acts like an old man - and it’s hard to ignore when you live with him. König is used to waking up early from his time at KorTac, and unfortunately you’ll know when he wakes up. coughing, loud, apartment shaking coughing as he clears his throat, stumbling his way to the bathroom before the suns up. some days you can sleep through it, most you just groan and bury your face in your pillow

König who sneezes so fucking hard - it’s gross. it’s especially bad when he’s wearing his hood around the apartment and sneezes into it. you can hear him sniffle afterwards, snotty and loud as he reaches for a tissue. I’m actually so sorry for telling you that, it’s just so true to me even though it’s so gross, but he’s human. sometimes he just outright refuses to use a tissue and complains later when his throat is raw from sniffling

König who disappears into the bathroom for… way too long. you can hear him shuffle about behind the door sometimes but overall he’s completely silent. he’s in there just enjoying some alone time, moving about - cleaning up his stubble, trimming his nails, sometimes he just looks into the mirror lost in thought for a moment. one time you caught him trying to wash his hood in the sink with hand soap… it was promptly thrown into the wash

König who seemingly wears the same fucking pair of cargo pants whenever he’s home. he bought, like, five pairs of the same pants because, “They’re good, Schatz— look, I can carry so many pocket knives.”. he’ll wear them at least twice before washing them. no variation in color, all of them are the same khaki, all of them hugging his thighs a little too much. he folds them himself too, even if you’ve already done it he’ll just redo them. it’s not that you’ve folded them wrong or anything, he just genuinely enjoys folding them, what can I say?

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

How to Plant Snapdragons | 5

Task Force 141, Keegan, & Konig x Female Criminal!Reader

Previous Chapter / Masterlist

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language and Violence, Bullying Soap (don't take it seriously) WORD COUNT: 2.8k

“So, you fucked with him?” Soap questioned in a low voice, mouth next to your ear as you both took a seat in the plane. Gaz who was over his side leaned in the conversation as well, while Price sighed and Ghost simply stayed quiet beside you.

You pulled down the headset to your neck and raised a brow. “Who?”

Soap pulled a face and mouthed, "Graves."

You guffawed, throwing your head back that you slammed into the metal wall, but that didn't stop you. You repeatedly slapped your thigh, wheezing to the point you coughed and felt like vomiting.

The shadows on the opposite side of the plane stared at you with frowns underneath their goggles. They had worked and lived with you under the same roof, but they had never gotten used to how you laughed.

You hated Graves’ guts, but you could acknowledge a fine man who knew how things work. You had seen him in the gym during your time in the Shadow Company. Topless, and sweaty, his veins bulging every time his muscles flexed, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance and draw what you could remember when you were alone (which you sold to one of his shadows—you didn’t know if the guy was into Graves or his fans or maybe both). But that was it—he had done many things that you hated, and you had equally given him things that he loathed.

You calmed yourself down and smiled at Soap, who also stared at you in confusion. "I'd cut my vagina if ever I had his penis in me."

Soap and Gaz's mouths flew open.

Ghost grunted. "Fuckin’ Hell, have ya got no filter?"

"Watch the language, young lady," Price ordered, shaking his head.

You frowned, waving a hand. "What? It's the scientific term for the reproductive organs of females and males." You crossed your arms and huffed. "Is it because you guys don't actually know the right terms for women and your genitals? The outside of the pussy is called the vulva where you men are supposed to do your best to please—" The next words never left your mouth as Soap clamped his large hand on your face.

"I don't want to have SexEd in an airplane, please," Soap said, glancing at the Shadows across the 141. Was this what they experienced during your stay in the Shadow Company? Did they get it worse or did you mind your own business before? He doubted it would be the latter.

Johnny pulled his hand from you as you all felt the plane running and you quickly strapped your seatbelt on you to secure your position. It didn’t take long till the transport was airborne, the loud engines echoing through your headset, and it felt like something heavy was on you. You all kept silent until everything seemed to steady and Captain Price removed his seatbelt, rising to his feet and walking over to a table. He placed a laptop on top of it and pushed it open.

Graves followed suit, stopping on the other side of the table. “Shadows, gather around.”

The Task Force rose from their positions and crowded around the table, while you stood between Graves and Price, making them both look at you for a second before shifting their attention back to the device. Once again, both the leaders talked over the key points of the mission, starting from going to Graves facility in Salvador to travel by chopper instead, the raid in the favelas to capture the target, subduing the militia, and the exfiltration with Nikolai and the Shadow Company, before going back to the Shadows' facility.

“What if he refuses to speak English?” Gaz questioned, grabbing onto his vest. “We’ve dealt with people who wouldn’t speak even after torture.”

“So have I,” Graves claimed, making you silently scoff before he turned to you. “That’s why we have her.”

Heads snapped towards your way, and Ghost asked, “You know Portuguese?”

You raised a finger and opened your mouth to answer, but the CEO was faster. “Seen her teach one of my men before.”

You knew Portuguese, alright, but you didn’t teach one of his shadows Portuguese. It was Arabic numerals. Yet you also didn’t feel like correcting him and let Graves assume things. It was better for him to think that you only knew Portuguese and English.

You put your hand down. "What he said, but I'm not that fluent."

"Better than nothing," Price declared and he put a hand on the table. "Let's end it here for now. We still have some time later on."

One simple nod from Graves, the Shadow scattered, and he patted the Captain's shoulder before stepping away, going in the direction of the pilot.

As the Task Force 141 walked back to their seats, you patted Ghost's arm. He looked down at you with a questioning gaze and you asked, "Do you have any spare mask and war paint?"

"Why?" He inquired, reaching into one of the pockets of his vest.

You raised a brow. "If I want to get back safely in Rio again, I'll have to hide my face from the locals, no?"

He scoffed and pulled out a mask, handing it down to you. It was a black balaclava with a white skull design. Very Ghost fashion, but it was something similar to what you used to see every day before. "Ya know how to put on camo?"

"Yeah." You nodded, tracing your finger on the soft fabric—thankful that it didn’t actually smell of dirt, sweat, and blood. You weren't a fan of camo face paints as they were hard to remove, and you had someone put it on you instead because you couldn't paint camo on without poking your eye or putting some paint on your eye, said the person. That was a lie. That person just wanted to keep holding your face, running their thumb over your lips, or say there wasn't any mirror when in fact, they keep mirrors all the time as part of the tactic not to expose their head when peeking out a corner.

"Alright." Ghost gave you a can of paint and a mirror.

You both sat down and you began to paint the upper half part of your face since the balaclava would cover the rest. You put the paint down on your lap and pulled the mirror away, angling your head from right to left. Then, you slipped the mask on, adjusted the hole around your sight, and tucked the hem under the collar of your jacket. “How do I look?” you inquired, handing back the camo and mirror to Ghost.

“Ready to kick some arse,” Soap fired immediately.

“A she-ghost,” Gaz said.

“Ghost’s sibling,” the Captain commented.

You, Soap, and Ghost turned the other two. Soap pursed his lips to stop himself from smiling, while Ghost glared at them. You, on the other hand, had a grimace underneath the mask. “Agreeing with your favorite, Captain?”

A gasp escaped Kyle’s lips, facing the Price with bright, expecting eyes. “I’m your favorite?”

Johnny’s brows furrowed. “He’s your favorite?”

Simon couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Since when do we have favorites?”

Price pulled a face, shaking his head. “I don’t have favorites,” he proclaimed, but that wasn’t enough to convince both the Sergeants. You and Ghost merely listened to their debate and some friendly hits between the Sergeants, really starting to act like siblings fighting for some candies.

It was wonderful to witness, that even though these men weren’t connected by blood, they could be as close as a family who went through heaven and hell, stood in front of death’s door, but would always have one another’s back.

It was admirable—beautiful, that a desire to protect them bloomed in you. If they get dirty, so the world would stay clean, you’d get dirty, so they could continue what they needed to do.

You closed your eyes, feeling it become heavy due to the lack of sleep the past couple of days, and leaned back, a small smile painting on your lips.

Now, you felt like laughing.

Did Task Force 141 remind you of your old friends to feel this way? They’d probably laugh at you and say you’d leave the 141 as well, like what you did to them, or would they laugh because you wouldn’t be able to leave this time with a shackle on?

Oh, how you wish you’d know, no matter how hurtful the truth would be.

Ghost slightly stiffened at the sudden heaviness on his arm and he shifted down his head, finding you sound asleep, cheek squished against him. You looked peaceful with your mouth shut, not moving an inch unlike when you were awake and hyper as though you were on crack. Vulnerable, feeling safe enough to let yourself fall asleep on him in front of all these people who could snap your neck like a twig. But most of all, you looked like a normal person despite the disguise you had put on, simply sleeping because of the lack of. 

It irked him to hear Shepherd refer to you as a tool—a weapon to be used and disposed of. It reminded him of the times before he met Price—before the said man made him feel like a human. Not as Ghost, but Simon. And maybe, if the Captain had done it to him before, perhaps Price can also do it to you.

“Soap,” he called, making Johnny halt from smacking Gaz, his elbow almost hitting you.

Johnny turned to face him with one brow raised, only for both his brows to arch upon seeing you asleep. “Didn’t know she could look quiet.”

“Anyone would look peaceful in their sleep except you,” Price said, crossed his arms, and leaned back, pulling his hat down to cover his eyes as he closed them.

Soap snapped his head at his way. “Captain!”

Gaz painted a smug smirk on his lips, lifting his chin proud. “And that’s why I am his favorite.”

“Ya goddamn—”

"Keep up, lass," Price's deep voice echoed on your headset as you jogged after him and Gaz in the dark—the Sergeant glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following them and not planning to run away.

Not that you could.

You had a frown on your face, hidden by the night vision you had on, frustrated that you couldn’t get the chance to see the statue of Christ the Redeemer with all the houses (if you could call this cluster of shacks, houses) covering your sight. But there was no time for being hot-headed as you were already in the lion's den.

"Up the roof!" Gaz shouted, firing at the man on the rooftop above you three.

"Engaging enemies on the lower favelas," Price declared, running towards a corner of a house.

You slid for cover behind a crate, before aiming up the roof, shooting a man who had emerged from their covers. Blood splattered at each hit, painting the roof and the ground as he fell.

You quickly averted your attention from the sight and announced, "They're using assault rifles."

"Copy," replied the Captain and Gaz.

“Enemies on sight,” Ghost claimed in a rough voice.

There was a crackle on your headset. "Shadow 0-1 to Bravo 0-6 and Bravo 0-7, Shadows are ready for some takedown," Graves responded.

You pumped your fist in the air where someone would have been whenever you fought, a smile appearing on your lips. "Showtime."

You ran towards a corner and fired at the man crouching behind a window, shattering the glass, before aiming from left to right. With no man in sight, you proceed down to another alley.

A gunshot echoed in the air and you whipped around to where it came from. You pulled the trigger, and hid behind a wall, grabbing a grenade. You peeked out and threw it through an open window, then aimed at the house as it exploded. You sprinted towards it, slowly entering the shattered door, finding three men burned and unconscious.

You noticed a phone lit up in one of their pockets. You grinned, bending out and snatching it. You slipped it into one of the compartments of your vest and gazed up the stairs. "Found a way up the roofs."

"Good, do what you must," Price ordered, making you chuckle as you climbed up the stairs. It could only mean one thing, considering he had tested you in the range before. Show him what you could do.

"Wishing our lady death, Captain?" Kyle's soft voice resounded, making you smile.

"Why don't you save me like a good knight in vest you are, Sergeant?” you questioned, humming as you climbed up the stairs. You glanced from left to right and found a window.

A soft laughter echoed in your headset. “Alright, call for my name when you need me later.”

“How ‘bout I call ya, Gaz?” Soap questioned in a mocking voice.

“He’d kill ya instead,” Ghost said, there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

“I’d tell the militia they could take Soap home,” Gaz responded.

You cackled at the top of your lungs and jumped out of the window, blasting the heads of a couple of men you alerted with your laughter. “Perhaps you could learn Portuguese, Soap.”

“I’ll gie ye guys a skelpit lug,” Johnny barked out.

“Speak English,” the three of you remarked simultaneously, making the poor handwash groan and curse at you three.

“American English, perhaps,” Graves piped in, making you and Kyle howl in laughter.

“Not ye too, Graves!” Johnny yelled, making you flinch at the sudden loud volume, which quickly died down.

“You guys are bullying Soap too much,” Price said in a calm voice.

“Tell them, Captain. Tell them!” Soap exclaimed, and you could imagine him stomping and throwing his hands around like a kid.

Then, Price added, “Do it again, kids.”

“Fuck you!”

You ran, dashing behind walls that went higher than some roofs as bullets whistled past you, and slid, shooting multiple rounds.

A series of gunshots and explosions from all directions could be heard. It seemed that the Shadows had risen from the dark, and now the Task Force could focus on the target.

You launched yourself from one roof to another, landing with a thud and rolling. You got up to your feet and put bullets through a door from below. The door broke down and one man fell out. You proceeded forward, climbing up a higher shack due to the slope of the hill.

Just as you got inside, a curse in Portuguese shot to your covered ears. You slipped forward as the man aimed his handgun and you unsheated your knife, slashing his thigh. He fell with a stifled scream and you drive the blade to his neck. You pulled it off in a swoop and blood gushed out, splatting on your clothes.

You were thankful you couldn’t feel the warmth of it, but you could feel your skin slick with sweat. You looked down at the man next to your feet, blood pooling underneath, and sighed, averting your gaze away.

You marched toward a terrace on the side and noticed a light on top of a mountain from far away. You gasped. “Guys, I see him!”

“Fabricio?!” Price yelled over the comms.

“No, sir! Christ the Redeemer!” You leaped out of the terrace, grinning wide, although you couldn’t see it. You stowed behind a wall as you noticed several men jogging above a makeshift metal bridge to cross roofs. “Can we go later there? I want to see it up close!”

A silence answered you before Price responded in a low voice. “I can’t guarantee that, kid.”

You peeked from the corner and struck them down swiftly. “I know that, sir. I’m just messing with you.”

You heard another sigh from him that got blocked over by Ghost’s loud voice. “I spotted Fabricio! He’s headed down your way, Soap!”

“I see him!” Soap shouted back. “Ah, shite—Captain, he’s going your way!”

“Copy!” The Captain replied in a serious voice. “What the—he’s down yours, Gaz!”

Upon hearing his words, you ran and jumped to another roof, where the militia was headed earlier. Considering the direction where they supposedly proceed and where Gaz should be chasing down the man now, you would be able to see him from a bird’s eye view.

“Bloody man, can’t he settle in one way?!” Kyle commented, clearly frustrated by how annoying the changes in the route of the target were, which was expected as he was on his home ground. “Shit, he’s gonna get away!”

You turned to the right, jumped to another roof, and there the scurrying rat was. You leaped and everything seemed to be in slow motion as you went down and landed on Fabricio, bringing him down on the ground. He grunted in pain and you quickly aimed a gun on his head as you moved more comfortably on the man’s back, completely sitting down on him.

You looked in all directions and smiled under your mask at the Task Force emerging from the shadows one by one. “I better get a good dinner tonight for this.”

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @sae1kie, @sarahedwards16, @kenma-izhu, @kkaaaagt

[gremlinmodetweeker]

EEEEEEE THIS IS SO GOOD! I love I love I love!!! I am so happy that you made this I cannot express it. There is a smile plastered on my face right now.

FRIENDO I MADE A THING!! YOU MADE ME DO A THING!! HAVE A THING!!

@gremlinmodetweeker @gremlinmodetweeker

"Look, I had a bad ni- König! Get th' fuck down mate! 'm tryna talk ta ya!" 'Handler' would shout darting after the shifted b feathered asshole. Crinkly gloves digging into the plastic container. "Gods 'm gonna K word m'self one of these damn days. Stupid fuckin' bird, stupid fuckin' hazmat bullshit- König!"

The bastard shifter in question continues to run through the hanging rings, lounging on them while he fiddles with the newest puzzle he most definitely did not 'steal' from his handlers bag. The man could swear this one squawked more than other actual birds he's met. Always flitting about in that obnoxious suit, necessary, but no less obnoxious. Surely a twitchy Sparrow, or maybe a finch with how much they constantly chi-

"Listen ya big bloody fuckin' bastard! Ya want m' stress baking or not?!" 'Handler' would squawk out yet again, stomping their crinkly foot in indignation.

"Finch food?" The deep timber would squawk out, landing heavily before 'Handler' and quickly closing in, claws tapping the concrete excitedly. Blue eyes trained on the suddenly interesting object in their crinkly hands. "Food! Food! Finch food!"

"'m not a damn fin- ugh! Fine! Here!" 'Handler' would squawk out before peeling off lid off the Tupperware, and fuck was that STEAM still oozing off the sweet treats?! Maybe this Finch could stick around a bit longer...

THIS IS YOUR FAULT FRIENDO!!

[lxvvie]

A relationship with König would consist of the following:

Your first date being the embodiment of 'shit happens'.

Spontaneity driving your later date nights because every time König planned one, shit continued to happen.

König refusing to tell you his middle name (after you found out that he had one) no matter how many times you beg, plead, and give him puppy dog eyes because he's embarrassed by it.

Marveling at how König can be so big and tall and somehow make himself seem so small when he's sitting sometimes. He also doesn't mind some cramped spaces, either.

König resting his head on your lap because it is calming and he tends to suffer from tension headaches. You rubbing his head also helps quite a lot.

König being in a state of constant mortification while you're damn near dying you're wheezing so hard because of his sense of humor.

Piggybacking off the last point, it's endearing because it's either offbeat or poorly timed. It also doesn't help (or rather, it does) that he's a bit of a late bloomer when it comes to getting hip to memes, the latest slang, etc. There was that one time with the eggplant emoji...

Never failing to laugh when he laughs... because of his laugh. König has the gremlin cackle thing going on and it is hilarious.

Testing König's inner koala as he sleeps. Turns out that if you put just about anything near him, he'll automatically hug it close to him. You tried it with a pillow.

Using his height to your advantage. You tend to use him as your personal crowd parter person thingie, especially when you're grocery shopping or just... out in public in general. Or using him when you need to get that one item that's all the way on the top shelf at the very fucking back.

Standing on his feet so you can get some height to try and kiss him. Konig thinks it's cute and funny, so cute and funny in fact that he sometimes will not bend his head down just so he can see you pout and whine about how he's "not being fair".

Giving him a compliment and watching König.exe stop working because of reasons. Reasons that involve feelings.

You having to avoid wearing some of König's shirts also because of reasons.

Watching the shenanigans of Drunk König. The most common theme is Drunk König thinking the closest thing near him is you and so he's practically talking to his Schatz and wondering why you're not answering or something like that.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

In the cat AU would either guy feel bad if they give reader a particularly bad scratch or bite. I imagine after reader pulling cat!König away from food he gets a good scratch on their face. LOVE YOUR WRITING and have an amazing day !!!

Oh my goodness you are far too sweet! I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am for these lovely comments!

But yes, how would the kitters feel after scratching Owner? Well, the simple answer is: bad. But how bad? That varies.

Horangi is a bit of an ass. He's got a massive ego and in turn justifies all his bad acts. He's not a thief, he's a collector! He isn't loud and obnoxious, he's got a bombastic personality! And if he's trying to bat at you and get your attention but accidentally catches your skin instead of your sleeve? Well then that's just your fault. You should've been staying still instead of pacing nervously in your room. He tried to show you he cared, but you went ahead and made it worse!

Most of the time, Horangi is the one to use claws anyways. He loves to hide around corners and under furniture to attack your feet. He's a brutal beast. But, if he does dig in too far, he'll go off about how you shouldn't be such vulnerable prey. He's trying to make you a better solider! You should be prepared for attack at all times!

After König sits on him for a minute he does relent. He finally admits it was a mistake and yes, of course he feels bad. Why wouldn't he feel bad for hurting you? You're his owner, after all! He loves you!

After an hour (of König forcing him to fess up), he'll pad over and try to play with you. He'll bring over a toy for fetch or some sort of toy to play. If he really got you bad, he'll brush his head against your side and let you scratch his head. Horangi doesn't often like to be pet, but he'll tolerate it to make it up to you.

König is a bit different. König is prone to accidentally scratching, but not because he tries to attack you or swat at you like Horangi. In truth, König is actually a very cuddly sweet cat. He's a bit grungy, but he's a very loving cat. The problem with König is that he's anxious all the time.

When I was young, I had a very nervous cat. I feel bad because I didn't help that cat in any way (I'd always try to play with her and she did not like that) but she was also just naturally an anxious cat. She had a very interesting thing where she never fully sheathed her claws. She was always on edge, so wherever she went you'd hear a little tap tap tap tap tap when she walked on the linoleum floors. She was only ever silent on carpet.

König is much the same. He's always anxious as a cat, so he's always got his claws out a bit. It's so natural for him that he just... forgets. He forgets that he hasn't actually fully retracted his claws. So sometimes he'll playfully bat at you and accidentally leave a scratch or two. Sometimes, he might just be desperate to run away from a bath and accidentally digs in deep into your arm, or you're trying to drag him away from the food and he gets a good scratch in.

He's immediately distraught. He is bending over backwards to try and cuddle you to say sorry after. He genuinely adores you and he can't believe he accidentally hurt his precious owner. He'll often try to lick the wounds and will purposefully force himself to fully retract his claws so he can 'hug' your hands and nuzzle against you. He really goes over the top with apologies.

So, Horangi is a dick, but that's kind of expected of him. König is a big softie that feels terrible, that's also expected. What's not expected is that they actually try to make it up to you. They're both very loving cats, albeit in their own ways.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Okay I'm gonna learn y'all real quick because this is important.

Perfect hot chocolate has real chocolate melted into a 1:1 cream to milk ratio in a pot over medium heat. You then add in spices of choice.

The options I rotate between are:

Cinnamon

Nutmeg

Cloves

Ginger

All-Spice

Not Option spices I include:

The tiniest pinch of chili

Very very simple recipe but it tastes incredible. You just want to boil it until all the chocolate is melted and everything is bubbling and good. If you want you can add some extra sugar if you think you need it.

Let me tell you right now, it's delicious and I crave it. I can't get enough of it. It is the reason I am fat this year.

König is a hot chocolate snob. it’s the real deal or nothing, if you buy the powdered stuff he’ll complain

[gremlingottoosilly]

An incredibly sleepy reader who sees no harm in sleeping near Konig whenever she's barely wearing anything or nothing at all

Incredibly sleepy gf x incredibly horny bf if going to turn into some pretty weird somnophilia shenanigans......bless her sleepy heart because her pussy will get pounded every time Konig returns home and sees his adorable, pretty, totally not being held captive gf of a random chair, completely naked except for socks(those wooden floors can get quite chilly in the evening) and a plushie she holds in her hands. It takes everything in him not to just run and spread your legs for him to fuck you senselessly. ...and he fails. He does, in fact, runs to you and tugs his head between your legs immediately, tongue on your naked folds. You should have known better than to look like this when your attractive and insanely horny boyfriend just got out from a deployment that rendered him unable to meet you for a few months...or you should just start wearing clothes around the house when you know you will fall asleep...but Konig really doesn't want for it to come to this. He needs your precious body on full display all the time, especially when you're so sleepy and relaxed. He would apologise for the first few times this happened - especially when he isn't quite brave enough to just fuck you outright and instead would jerk off silently in the corner, while you're too sleepy to notice him until he is covering your face in semen. He would be more gentle with you after he finally succumbed to fucking you - and you can be sure that you'd cum quite a few times before finally waking up and see him for what he is worth.