gremlinmodetweeker

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Ok so, what i found out recently is that, there's obviously a big cultural difference from one region to another. Or one community to another.

In a lot of subjects, but rn i wanna talk about the definition of working husband and housewife from my experience.

I'm yapping about this, coz when i write housewife/househusband— i'd base it on my experience, so.. yeah :3c

My mom is a housewife, she doesn't make money except when she wants to. Like she feels like baking today, alright let's set a stand on weekend and everyone gonna help selling em at the park— but all money still goes to her.

My dad was a working husband, from 7 am to 8 pm monday-friday. He provided for everyone, while my mom keeps her money as personal savings and just in case something happens to dad (foreshadowing ooo-)

From what i recently.. learned, a lot of people think housewife means.. being a married single mom. Doing all the domestic labor, raising kids, alone because the husband is too tired from work :((( boohoo to him.

But like.. in my experience anyway— no.

Or in my community, coz my friends also have the same experience.

Being a housewife means handling finance, yes the husband makes the money but she keeps track of every income and outcome. And its separated from her own money, because that's hers. But my dad's money was everyone's 💀

He had to ask my mom if he wanted to buy a playstation for himself, and usually would "use" me as an excuse like— "mbe wants to buy this game, right?" And tbh.. i wanted playstation too, so yeah 🧍

Now i realized why he mostly bought adult games as in.. resident evil and cod— i.. was scared to play it alone 🧍i was 10 or younger ok-

Also because i needed him to translate the english in the game. He'd doze off, but then i'd just pinch his nose to wake him up— slurred the translation, then he'd doze off again.

My mom would grumble about it, but let us buy a bunch of games anyway. And we played it late at night coz my dad got home late, then fell asleep on the couch sometimes (or the floor)

Being a housewife also means being a socialite(?) in a way. Being responsible to attend events, keeping good relationships with neighbors and parents from school, etc.

So yea she went out often to eat at restaurants or karaoke for it.

Hangout with her friends st spa, being a coach/trainer for school or neighborhood event, and helping hosting other events coz what else was she supposed to do— she is the kind of person who can't stay still. She has to do something.

As for raising kids.. that is a shared responsibility bruhh, why is it only the wife's duty. I'm shooketh when i saw shorts about men changing children's diapers should be praised and like what 🧍 the bar is in hell— are yall ok??

And for domestic labor, laundry, cooking, dishes— that's also shared. Why is being a housewife equal to being a maid?? It's each of everyone's responsibility. Do your own laundry, your own dishes, and allat. Or make a schedule like roommates do. And this isn't just parents responsibility, but also children when they're grown enough to do it themselves. I started cooking, doing laundry, ironing my own clothes, my own dishes when i was in 4th grade elementary i think.

Before that i just helped with cooking, and folding clothes.. you know— upervised . Til 4th grade when i finally had to do it alone 😔 (i burnt a pot boiling water coz i forgor and left it to play games-)

And no, not just me, my brother also taught the same.

Groceries shopping was a family thing lol. And I loved it sm 💀💀💀 like heccyeaa im gonna put everything i wanted in this cart—

My dad worked fulltime and could still do his part. Raising kids, spending time with family, and domestic labor.

He legit made his own (shitty design) calendar with plans.. literally every weekend we gotta do something together. Or scheduled monthly deep cleaning. Which in a way.. is a quality time for family too ig-

Idk, he liked to turn chores into quality time, like tending the garden, fixing the fucking roof 🧍 (which I'm grateful for ig.. now i now how to fix roof myself thanks dad)

My mom is a housewife, and could still make money just when she feels like it, and saved up a lot for herself and as fallback for everyone— from both money she makes, and from my dad's after she managed the finance and separated the amount for bills, saving of school tuition for me and sibs, etc- she then kept the rest because why not.

Yes my dad had his own savings, but my mom supervised it- the password was literally 000000 😔 as a kid, i remember being excited everytime he went to atm coz i wanna be the one pressing buttons :D

Was it fair for him? Idk personally, but he was chill with it. Simp.

She was a corporate worker before i exist. She worked in a big company, did well too. But then i spawned 🧍she still worked when she was preggo with me, but after i cried for the first time, she quit and decided to focus on family full time. By her own will, I don't think my dad had a say in it. Coz if he did.. i'd hear my mom complain about it— which she never did.

She has a degree in accounting. Now, you may think it's sad that she doesn't get to use it. But again, she's the family finance.

Also, after that she and my dad started a business.. so yea her degree and years of studying isn't abandoned at all. The business were laundry, small restaurant, and small clothing factory. Managed together.

Laundry coz my dad and my mom.. also me— hates ironing clothes 🧍

Restaurant because.. idk that's usually people's first choice when it comes to business.

Clothing factory coz my dad likes making clothes.. (mostly ugly tshirts with dad puns.. for himself. And uniforms for some companies)

Ik that sounds a lot, but they're all small businesses in a village still.

And yeah.. things happened 👁️👁️ dad ded. Most money gone. Which led to now, but tbh, it could be worse if my mom didn't plan ahead. If my mom decided to drop everything and just depended on my dad.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I need more kidnapper Konig please 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I started work over a month ago, but today is the first day I've sat down to write since I've started. I think the best way to get back into the flow is to do some Kidnapper!König!

[gremlinmodetweeker]

you remind me of these squishmallows

methinks these match your vibe the most, enjoy✨

I'm cherishing these and locking them in cages beneath my bed. They can be fed a steady diet of pop and gummy bears.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Is this not literally Simon Riley

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Little Break

Hi all! I know I'm usually posting a fic right now, but seeing as today is father's day I don't have anything queued for a bit. I'll need to build up a little bit, but please tell me in the notes which fic you really want to see for the next while so I can get some ideas on what story to work on!

Also, I have another long fic I'm working on. This one is a bit different than most self-inserts and it follows the plot of a fantastic Irish horror film called Caveat. It does take a wee bit of research and a little bit of editing, so I'm gonna take a while on this one. I still haven't managed to get past writer's block on punk drummer!König, but that's there. I also am doing a non au(!) post which will be coming soon.

Until then, if you have a good relationship with your dad, happy father's day! If you don't, I hope you use this day to take care of yourself and practise some much-needed self care! No matter what, I hope you all enjoy a lovely day!

Cheers-

Gremmy

[gremlinmodetweeker]

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Tea and Coffee and Rat Corpses

Frankenstein König! More!!! Next up I think we'll do some Kidnapper!König, but I'm not sure. Either that or something else. Dunno yet. Either way, meet Dr. Humboldt, a rather critical character in this story! Also, I am so aware of how medically inaccurate this all is. I need to go over it again for sure.

Tws: Resurrection, death, dead animals, animal experimentation

Wordcount: 3.1K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Tea and Coffee and Rat Corpses

The house was alive with an electric buzz in the air. You fretted over the potted plants you put on your windowsill before turning to fuss over the coasters stacked on the side table. Round and round the room you circled around you dear beloved König, who sat bitterly in the centre of your chaos.

“I don’t want him touching me,” König said as you dusted for the umpteenth time around him.

“He’s not gonna touch you,” you said again, “well, maybe, but not much.”

“So he’s going to touch me? If he pulls out a scalpel I don’t care if it’s a stereotype, but I’m bashing his brains out.”

“It would only be a stereotype if you ate his brains,” you pointed out as you picked up an old vase to wipe the dust out from underneath.

“So I wouldn’t be setting a bad example for the newly undead.”

You sent him a withering glare. In turn, König only rolled his eyes and slumped back into the worn down sofa he sat on, making a threatening creak as he flopped.

“Don’t break that. It cost me a hundred bucks off Craigslist,” you warned him.

“Off Craigslist?” König sneered, “why would you use Craigslist?”

You put down your cleaning cloth and said, “It was cheap.”

“You could’ve spent an afternoon driving around to see if there was a couch on the street or something,” König muttered more to himself than to you.

You didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you focussed on straightening the picture behind König, first a bit to the left, then back again to the right. König, for his part, simply shifted out of the way to give you space. Once you were finished fussing over all the inconsequential details of the home, you were left with the matter of trying to explain to König why this was necessary in the first place.

“Is he going to take pictures of me?” König asked again.

“Probably,” you said as you settled into the seat beside him with a humph, “that’s usually what these sorts of papers need. There needs to be visual proof of what we’re doing here.”

König sneered, “So he’s going to have my nudes?”

You sucked ai through your teeth.

“I don’t want him taking pictures of me to spread online!”

“They’re not being spread online, they’re being put in medical journals-”

“So you’re putting me in magazines for nerds to look at!” König slipped his phone back into his pocket, “I’m going to be poked and prodded like an alien!”

“No, you’re just going to be given a few tests,” you tried to explain, “knowing how you’ve been healing, probably mostly cognitive. It’s just a shame we don’t have a good baseline…”

“Couldn’t you use the psych evals from KorTac?” König offered.

“You’re offering me your psych evaluations?” you raised an eyebrow at the notion.

König huffed and said, “I’d rather you give me puzzles than shove rods up my ass.”

“For the last time, nobody’s going to probe you!” you rubbed your temples as ire wormed its ways through your shoulders, “Dr. Humboldt is a descendent of the soviet scientists who first began the tests. If they were going to test any physical signs, it would be your rate of healing or signs of life.”

König grumbled something under his breath, but it seemed your assurances had calmed him slightly. His reservations were more than understandable. He was a living liminal space, being both not alive enough to be considered a living being but not dead enough to need a coffin. He was just… Somewhere in between. He was in the fog between light and darkness and all things in between.

You lowered your hands to your knees and sighed.

“It must be really hard for you.”

König made a small grunt of affirmation.

“I mean,” you rubbed your hand down his neck, “I’m not even sure what you are anymore.”

“You don’t know?” König’s eyebrows knit together.

“Not really,” you admitted, “all I know is that you’re the only human to ever come back to life.”

König said nothing in response. What was there to say? Not even the person who’d raised him from the dead was sure of what they’d created. He was just… There. He existed, but whether his existence was valid or not entirely depended on the life you’d form together. It all depended on how his body reacted to this new state of being.

“Will Dr. Humboldt be able to tell me what I am?”

You frowned. You didn’t want to say no, but you weren’t sure. The man was an enigma on the best of days. Studying under him had been a gruelling task in your university days. However, he was the type to reward effort and in you he placed his full trust. He secured you the toughest internships as a reward for your struggles as his student. The fact you kept his phone number was a testament to the relationship you’d formed with your former mentor.

You trusted Dr. Humboldt. Or at least, he was the only person you could trust. Dr. Humboldt was a strange man with stranger ideas, but it was his eccentricity that fueled his innovation. That was exactly why he was the one man you could turn to. Any other professor of yours would have you shackled behind bars before your phonecall had been up. More worryingly, they might have tried to destroy all evidence of your experiments, including König himself. If nothing else, you could trust Dr. Humboldt to fight for your experiment. His experiment? It was hard to say at this point.

The thoughts whirled through your mind, colourful and bright and full of overwhelming energy and brightness. Dr. Humboldt was only the beginning of this journey, and you had no clue what would happen next.

“Do you think your professor will think I’m a human being?”

The question knocked you upside the head like a sledgehammer.

“What?” you turned to stare at him, “what sort of question is that?”

König seemed strangely withdrawn as he quietly said, “Well, you don’t seem to think I’m a living person anymore.”

You blinked once, twice.

“Why would you think that?” you said softly, “König, you know I see you as a person. You’re my boyfriend.”

“But ever since you’ve brought me back, you treat me differently,” König trepidatiously replied.

“Do I?” your brows creased, “how do I-”

The doorbell rang, effectively cutting you off.

“You should go answer that,” König said sullenly.

The doorbell rang again impatiently.

You patted his knee, “We’ll talk about this later,” and stood up.

When you opened the door, you took in the wiry frame of one Dr. Timothy Humboldt. He smoothed the long black tie under his long auburn beard as he strode inside to examine your dingy home.

“I wouldn’t have thought you to live in a place like this,” he murmured as he slipped his oxfords off his feet and placed them by the door.

“I had to buy this place in a pinch,” you explained, “now come in! König’s waiting for us in the living room.”

“He’s waiting for us?” Dr. Humboldt’s electric blue eyes flashed at you.

“He is,” you nodded curtly, “he’s a bit worried about how intensive your examinations will be today.”

“Fully capable of cognisant speech,” Dr. Humboldt muttered as he followed you down the creaking wood hallway.

“It’s like he never died,” you grinned at him.

Dr. Humboldt nodded and stepped through the doorway to the living room. Immediately his eyes were drawn to the dark shroud over König’s face. He seemed at a loss for what to say. His entire body was frozen in place, his eyes wide as he took in the sheer size of your boyfriend as he stood up and reached out his hand.

“Hallo doctor!” König practically chirped as the doctor weakly took his hand for a limp shake.

“You are my student’s experiment,” Dr. Humboldt adjusted his thick glasses as he looked around the room.

“I am your student’s boyfriend,” König corrected him before waving a hand to the loveseat across from him, “take a seat.”

Dr. Humboldt stiffly stepped around the glass coffee table to sit down. He folded his legs at the ankle and pulled a manilla folder out of his shoulder bag.

“My name is Dr. Humboldt, the current head of the medical research and technologies department at your partner’s old university. You are König, I presume,” Dr. Humboldt said in his characteristically cold tone.

“I am,” König looked at you as though he were screaming for help.

“You are telling me you were declared deceased and you have…” Dr. Humboldt’s furry eyebrow twitched, “returned.”

“I am alive, yes,” König shuffled over to give you room on the sofa.

“Do you have evidence of such?” Dr. Humboldt glanced between you both.

You took a binder off the side table and flipped through the plastic pages. It took a couple of beats, but you unclipped the metal rings and brandished the page in question.

“This is the death certificate,” you handed it over to the doctor, “you can check it.”

“I will,” Dr. Humboldt pulled out his phone. His eyes scanned over the screen a few times before widening. He nodded and put his phone back in his suit pocket. He handed the paper back, “It’s recorded. As far as I can tell, it seems authentic. Do you have medical reports of the death?”

You handed them over.

Dr. Humboldt glanced at the pages, his bushy moustache pulling at the corners as he put the pieces together. He returned the papers and adjusted his tie before looking at König.

“Do you have some photo ID to confirm that König is who he says he is?” Dr. Humboldt looked the living cadaver up and down suspiciously.

König drew out his wallet and flipped it to his driver’s license.

“I need to see your face,” Dr. Humboldt frowned.

König hesitantly lifted the hood  and held the driver’s license up side by side. Dr. Humboldt glanced at the photo, then back at König, then back at the photo. His forehead creased before he shook his head and sat back down. Without a word, König slipped his hood back over his face.

“I can see why you keep the hood,” Dr. Humboldt admitted as he took a steadying breath.

“Is that enough to confirm his identity?” you asked.

“For now,” Dr. Humboldt agreed, “but I admit a DNA sample would be the best way to confirm. In our next meeting we can test that. As for right now,” Dr. Humboldt’s sharp features softened, “you, König, may be the most incredible man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

König glanced at you for help.

“He really is,” you smiled brightly as you wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him tight.

“Now, König, do you consent to having our conversation recorded?” Dr. Humboldt pulled out his phone again.

König looked to you for help.

“It’s up to you,” you nudged him gently.

König nodded and said, “That’s fine, doctor.”

In an instant the phone was placed between you both.

“Excellent. Now, I want to ask my first question. König has been resurrected for how long now?” Dr. Humboldt pulled out a pen and notepad.

You pulled out your calender to check then said, “Three weeks and four days.”

“And results have been stable?” Dr. Humboldt asked suspiciously.

“Heart rate is stable, breathing is regular, blood pressure has improved drastically,” you rattled off and checked your notes, “all vitals are stable, if not improved.”

“So you’re saying König has healed since the resurrection?” Dr. Humboldt asked.

You nodded silently.

Dr. Humboldt stared at König for a moment, then noted it down in his worn notebook. He muttered incomprehensible observations to himself as he wrote down your answers.

As Dr. Humboldt jotted down his observations, you took a moment to put a hand on König’s knee.

“Are you okay?” you whispered softly.

“So far.”

Dr. Humboldt put his pen down and straightened up again, looking far too composed and put together for his disheveled surroundings. He eyed up König warily.

“Tell me König: Do you feel as though you’ve experienced any changes since being brought back?”

König glanced to you for an assuring nod before he tentatively replied, “I find it hard to remember things around the accident.”

“The hit and run?” Dr. Humboldt checked.

König winced briefly.

“I apologise if I’m bringing up a sensitive topic, but I do need to confirm for my notes,” Dr. Humboldt finally gave an inclination of humanity.

König nodded shakily, “Of course, doctor.”

“Now, do you remember many details of the accident?” Dr. Humboldt said as he clicked his pen.

“I remember being hit,” König shuddered briefly, “and the pain. I remember the pain well. After that, I remember watching the car drive away. I dragged myself to the side of the road, and that’s all.”

“Do you have any recollections beyond that?” Dr. Humboldt asked, a sliver of eagerness edging his voice.

“I remember a bright light, and then someone talking to me.”

“Who was talking to you?”

“I…” König faltered, “I think it was something in the afterlife. I thought it was God or something like that.”

Dr. Humboldt didn’t react, only diligently noting down his words.

“I think I saw some other people too. It was nice, but just when I was about to reach them, I woke up,” König shuddered at the thought, “and then I was here. It’s been pretty much the same as before since I was brought back.”

Dr. Humboldt nodded as he continued his notetaking. As he asked questions, you slowly saw König relax and settle back into the sofa. His grip on your knee loosened and his posture slouched as he melted into a sort of awkward comfort. Dr. Humboldt was the type of man to set anyone on edge, but he wasn’t pushing König in the way you expected. You hadn’t told König, but you thought your professor might have been the type to do a full thorough physical examination within five minutes of walking through the door. And yet, Dr. Humboldt had been nothing but polite as he asked questions and jotted things down.

When he’d had his fair share of König’s answers, Dr. Humboldt turned on you.

“How did you even come up with the idea to resurrect König?” he asked as his bright eyes met yours.

“Through your work, sir,” you told him easily.

“My work?” Dr. Humboldt paused, “you mean with the rats?”

“Exactly that,” you affirmed, “the experiments you conducted eighteen years ago.”

“The ones based on Dr. Volkov’s works during his time in the soviet union,” Dr. Humboldt checked.

“The ones where he tried to resurrect dogs,” you clarified.

The man’s forehead creased as he glanced at the phone still recording the conversation on the table. With a final sigh, he took a deep breath and set his notebook to the side, letting it hit the glass with a small pat and setting his ballpoint pen on top. He slowly drew himself back together and met your eyes with a sad, forlorn look.

“Is everything alright, Dr. Humboldt?”

He shook his head softly, “That’s of no matter. Please, tell me how you thought that experiments done on dogs and rats could possibly be used to resurrect a human being.”

“The Lazarus study performed in nineteen sixty eight by Dr. Yuri Volkov were done on dogs, yes, but the logic behind the methodology was sound,” you carefully said, “the use of mechanical assistance to supplement the cardiac and respiratory cycles was ingenious, though difficult to build in my lab. I slowly introduced a set of fluids into the body to preserve the body and encourage rapid healing.”

“But that was not nearly enough to bring the body back,” Dr. Humboldt scoffed.

“No sir, that’s when I needed the most important part,” you leaned in close, “electricity. You remember the storm that came three weeks ago?”

“How could I forget? It nearly tore my roof off.”

“The electrical charge generated in that storm was powerful enough to shock the body off of the machinery,” you explained, “though I didn’t realise it was a success until much later.”

“Much later?” Dr. Humboldt reached for his pen and paper again.

“I left the room thinking I failed,” you explained, “but then…”

“I woke up in the freezer,” König explained, “I made some noise, and my girlfriend came to investigate.”

“And that’s how I found out he was awake,” you finished for him.

“So the results of the resurrection were not immediate,” Dr. Humboldt scribbled furiously.

“I can’t tell you why the body needed to rest,” you admitted, “just that it worked that way.”

Dr. Humboldt took in a deep breath and adjusted his tie. He closed his eyes as he softly uttered, “I’d never thought that leaving the body would’ve been necessary. I had always just ended the experiment with the shock.”

“But maybe all it needed was either a stronger shock, or a rest period,” you told him.

Dr. Humboldt smiled wryly, “So we were close back then.”

“Probably,” you said, “but I only left König as a mistake.”

Dr. Humboldt laughed, “Another medical miracle born out of a physician's mistake.”

“Like penicillin?” König offered.

You wavered your hand and said, “Maybe. Sorta. Not really the same, but close enough.”

The interview wrapped up shortly afterwards. After a quick exchange of tea and coffee, Dr. Humboldt winced as he checked his wrist watch.

“I need to get going,” he hissed.

“Already?” you asked, “it hasn’t been that long, has it?”

“I’ve been here for nearly five hours,” Dr. Humboldt showed you his watch. You gawked at it briefly, then shut your jaw with a click and stood up.

“Alright, so you need to get going?” you said as Dr. Humboldt followed your lead.

“Yes, but first,” Dr. Humboldt scribbled on the back of a business card and passed it to you, “come to my lab later. I need to set up, but we can further authenticate König’s case and we can do further testing to see how König’s body has held up since the resurrection.”

You frowned and glanced down at your giant boyfriend.

“But sir,” you said timidly, “how are we going to get König there?”

Dr. Humboldt smiled for the first time since he entered your home, “I have an idea.”

“And what’s your idea?”

“We’re going to smuggle him in.”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universes

Frankenstein!Konig

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Is it true? | Part 1

Part 2

Word count: 870

Warnings: 18+, Yelling, destructive behavior, suggestive behavior, swearing, symptoms of panic

Part two soon! Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla @strawberrygato @cumsluut @sofiacoppolaslut @blackbeautyiloveyouso @casalucard @identity2212 @daydreamerwoah @lily-bug3 @sage-burrow @squeak1981 @shinebright2000

You’re stuck in a loop. Reading through old messages and swiping through photos. Tears begin to well in your eyes, you look to the ceiling and try to breathe. He wouldn’t. Would he? You gather your breath as you stand, your phone tossed back into the couch where you had been for a few hours at least, now surely lost within the cushions. 

Looking to the clock you see that he wouldn’t be home for another hour or so and decide to take a shower, maybe feeling clean on the outside could soothe the mess inside. While in the shower you hear the front door chime as he enters, he had insisted on installing a security system for while he was away. You peak your head out of the shower, the bathroom full of steam-your fragrance a tidal wave to anyone who entered. 

You hear the stairs creak as he made his way up, then a thud- his bag being left by the closet, the same spot as it had always been for as long as you could remember. You wrap up your shower and taking care of your hair and teeth, you make your way out to the bedroom. He’s turned on his side away from the door, a small snore coming from the pile of man beneath the blankets. You climb into bed, the house dark and cool as your mind tears at you with questions and possibilities you didn’t know you were ready to uncover. 

You can’t resist the urge to confirm that what you had seen earlier was real, turning on your side slowly you grab you phone and click on the small icon, ‘Messages’

A string of different conversations pop up, ones from relatives and others from random sites, and one at the top from an unknown messenger. You click it open again, your heart still shaking as you read the text. 

‘I wasn't planning on reaching out, but I figured you should know behind closed doors, your 'boyfriend' is real different...very hands-on.'

The screen goes dim with how long you’ve read it over and over, it just doesn’t make sense. You feel a headache approaching as your mind spirals and instead plug in your phone and lay back down to sleep. You would ask him about it tomorrow.

Dawn breaks through the windows as the birds begin to chirp just outside. You wake to an empty bed, something you’ve unfortunately had to adjust to with how much time he’s spent at work recently. You look over to your phone and sigh, choosing to instead get ready for the day. You put the bed back together and make your way downstairs, the house just as quiet as it had been last night. 

Most of the day was spent cleaning, doing the housewife duties that were a lifestyle to you now. Folding laundry, and putting more dirty laundry in the machine, putting away the dishes and sweeping the floors, it was all a nice distraction. After lunch time had rolled around you went upstairs, against the dread you could feel in your heels as you climbed each step, you knew you had to confront him eventually. 

You pick up your phone to the same day-to-day notifications and alerts, scrolling down your heart sinks a little further.

‘Unknown messenger: 1 Image’ 

You feel all sorts of emotions pile up, and burn down into a rage. Your finger clicks the image before you can take a second to think of reasons not to. The image is of him, tall and focused in the doorway of a room. He’s leant up on the door frame, listening to whoever was talking. 

*Ding* – Unknown Messenger: ‘Guess he’s pretty good at keeping a secret, huh?’

You start to chuckle, in a hysterical and concerning way. Locking the phone you set it down next to you as you fall back on the bed. Your hands sprawled out to the side of you, the ceiling fan cooling your physical heat to the situation. You didn’t feel like crying over it, and you didn’t feel like throwing a tantrum, but no matter what you felt, you knew you needed answers. 

After what had felt like days of waiting, the front door jingles as he opens it. You’re sat on the couch just inside the door, watching him from over the back. He goes to head upstairs, pivoting to make his way over to you once he sees you on the couch. Making his way over with a ‘Hello love’ he bends over to kiss the top of your head, pausing as you pull away from his reach.

‘What’s the matter? You alright?’ His voice sounded gentle, his eyes looking you over for any indication as of why you would have rejected his touch. 

You swallow hard as you take a breath, we’re you really about to have this conversation? You look up to him, his eyes tired with a twinkle of worry, he shifts his weight from one leg to the other patiently waiting a response. Your voice felt fragile, as if the words weren’t meant to be passed from one to another, but did not break as you looked up to him.

‘We need to talk.’

[gremlinmodetweeker]

By Night We Crawl From the Earth

Cannibal King!König makes an appearance! True to his word, he's on his way to track down the 141 and help get them back. Also, a big question is asked here. Who really are the cannibals?

Tws: cannibalism, cannibals, cannibalism references, colonial outlooks

Wordcount: 3.2K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

By Night We Crawl From the Earth

König stood tall in the clearing as he gathered a group of men around him. He was speaking too quickly for you to make everything out clearly, but evidently it was about the soldiers who’d been with you when you crashed. He occasionally pointed to you, but most often he pointed south. Whatever he said had these cannibals steady their jaws and grip their weapons tight.

König turned back and leaned down to look you squarely in the eyes.

“You will come with us,” he said, “and you will point out your friends. But do not speak to anyone. Only speak when I tell you to.”

“Where are we going?” you asked him nervously.

“South,” he said gravely, “down to where we found you. You remember?”

You nodded quickly.

“The tribe that lives there are the Ghost Stalkers. They patrol the territory at night. You may have seen them?”

“Maybe?” you frowned, “is there something that would really make them stand against other tribes?”

“Their war paint,” König closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “they glow like spirits as they walk through the trees. It… It scares me. I do not know how they get that paint. I do not want to learn.”

“Wait…” you thought back to your first nights on the island, “I think I do know them. They glow white, right?”

König nodded gravely, “They travel at night in packs. If we go during the day and show we mean no harm, maybe they will listen to us.”

“And if they don’t?” 

König rose back up to his full height and looked into the southern forests, “I do not know. If we retreat and live, we will be lucky.”

You looked into the darkness lurking between the trees. Chills ran down your spine and you turned away hurriedly. It felt like if you looked just a little bit longer, you’d see a face peeking back between the trees.

Around you the tribe kicked into action. Men gathered clubs, spears and axes and strapped them to their backs. Women held their children before they themselves took up sickles and daggers. The elders watched on forlornly as their children prepared themselves for whatever came from their preparations. Fear laced through you as you watched Birch brush the head of a small boy who clutched at her leather skirts. His big brown eyes were watery as he snivelled and cowered into her side. Her good eye met yours for a brief moment before she bent down to care for the little boy, leaving you to stare off into the distance as you waited for what was to come.

“We will bring goods,” you heard König say from behind you, “bring the biggest baskets. It cuts into winter, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

You turned to see a couple of men muttering to each other before they asked König about which baskets to bring. He replied in a rapid-fire series of guttural words that you didn’t catch. The men stalled for a moment and glanced at each other nervously. König barked another order and they scurried off into the storage huts. König watched them leave, then shook his head slowly as he turned back to you. He looked down at you, but there was a certain fondness in his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you shivered and rubbed your arm, “it’s just a lot to take in.”

“The journey or the task?” König asked.

“Both,” you admitted, “I feel overwhelmed and we haven’t even left.”

König nodded and crossed his muscular arms over his brawny chest, “Whatever happens, the birds will sing tomorrow.”

It took a moment to understand, but when it clicked you bit your lip and focussed on keeping your face neutral. In a way, you were afraid of letting König know just how frightened you really were. There was something in your mind that had you on edge. Something in the way the wind whispered through your hair or in the way the clouds grazed through the sky. 

Within an hour or two, König gathered his band of warriors and examined them closely. He spat a couple of orders and inspected the offerings they brought with a critical eye before approving them in turn. He raised up a hand and ordered your troop forth and your group surged forth into the wilderness.

Within seconds, the forest swallowed you.

“How much longer?” you complained as pine needles pricked through your moccasins.

“Another couple of hours,” König rumbled as he rolled his shoulders. His eyes flickered down to you and crinkled. “Why? Are you tired already?”

“We’ve been walking all day,” you replied, “can’t we take a break?”

“We’ve only walked for six hours,” König snorted.

“That’s so much walking!” you whinged miserably. 

“We’re over half way there by now,” König cheerfully told you, “soon we can rest. We’ll take a break in about an hour.”

You looked around the forest and sighed. You looked at the ropes that hung between the trees. Below them, human skulls clacked together like ghastly windchimes. You shuddered and stepped closer to König’s side. Even with an entire troop of cannibals armed to the teeth, you felt terribly vulnerable as you came closer to your destination.

Memories of painted skin walking silently through the long grasses haunted your mind. Their ghostly forms stalking you at night had chills crawling down your spine, a lump forming in your throat. They were with you with every step you took into their territory.

You glanced up at the treetops to see the labyrinth of ropes that had been woven through the branches. From them hang a variety of bones from both animals and human alike, clacking together in the light autumn breeze. It looked as though their bled had been drawn from them and pumped from the trees’ veins into the sky. A final gift from the dead to the living.

A single red leaf twirled in the air before landing at your feet. König’s feet stomped it into the mud as he walked onwards. You silently mourned it as you trailed behind.

The gaps between trees grew wider and the trail became more defined as you continued on your journey. Occasionally, you’d see a golf cart wrapped around a tree trunk, or one tipped over and left forgotten. Others were reclaimed by herbs and bushes weaving around their forms. They were lost symbols of a world you once belonged to.

Did you still belong out there? Had you lost who you were? Already you were noticing your thoughts were less and less in english and more and more often in the language of the cannibal tribe. They had shaken you loose of your domesticated ways. There was a growing divide between who you thought you were and who you actually were that was becoming more concerning with each passing day. You hadn’t stooped to eating their wretched meats yet, but sometimes the thought crossed your mind. As soon as it did, you’d have to stop what you were doing to go lie down.

König didn’t seem to understand your hesitations. He explained that men were of flesh and blood just as animals were. There was no difference between you but form and thought. You were of the same earth, and would return to it just the same. What did it matter if one could look you in the eyes and see you?

It didn’t matter what you said to König. He wouldn’t listen to you. In fact, he almost seemed to find your reluctance to eat your own kind to be amusing. He sometimes dealt with you less like he was with a partner and more like a stubborn small child who refused to eat their vegetables. You at least hoped he'd never snuck any by you, but that led to a strange understanding you’d recently come to terms with.

With the changing of the seasons, you’d actually come to enjoy König’s company. It had come to the point that you started to actually trust him. He’d proven time and time again that he had no intention to harm you, no intention to force you into being something you reviled. He respected your need for independence. Upon further reflection, it seemed that König actually seemed to actively support your independence. If the rule in this world was survival, he was eager to teach it to you.

Your form had been hard before, but it hadn’t been trained. Since coming to the island your body had adapted to the wilderness that you’d been dumped into. The muscles in your arms had been disciplined by rigorous training and cruel cold nights. König had gone out of his way to make you stronger than ever before. The military had born you, König had taught you to fly.

The soldiers you’d come with flickered again through your mind. Back when you had first stepped into that helicopter from so long ago, you’d been terrified. All around you were muscle-bound soldiers built out of rock and cruelty. Only one of them had a glimmer of warmth in his brown eyes, but even then that died the moment another spoke to him. They’d mostly spoken among themselves. The brown eyed one, ‘Gaz’, he’d tried to assure you that you were just as valuable an asset as any of the others, but you knew from the beginning you were a burden to them. One of them, a skull-masked man who looked like he’d been born of blood and war itself, had no time for you whatsoever. He barely even acknowledged you existence, even when you’d sat right beside him.

Now the tables had turned. You’d never have thought it possible, but you were on your way to save them. Measly little old you was the hero of the day. A flutter of pride flickered through you. A small smile wormed its way through your lips.

“You’re smiling.”

You looked up at König, who stared at you impassively.

“I was just thinking about things,” you said as you trod through the dirt beside him.

“What sort of things?” König pressed further.

“About the soldiers we’re rescuing,” you replied, “I never thought this sort of thing would happen.”

“What? Being split up?” he raised a bushy brow.

You hummed, “Yes, but no. I didn’t expect to be split up, sure, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was actually thinking that it’s weird that I’m the one saving them.”

“I thought you were a warrior in your old land,” König replied.

“I was,” you agreed quickly, “but I wasn’t a warrior like they were. They were… Amazing. I can’t really say much more than that. They were just the best soldiers I’d ever seen.”

König seemed confused, then snorted, “I do not trust you to determine true strength.”

“They’re strong enough to survive this long without help,” you replied.

“Then maybe they are stronger,” he mused, “I look forward to meeting them.”

Behind you, a few cannibal men were shoving each other and laughing. Behind them pairs of cannibals carried giant baskets filled with supplies for the winter. It was König’s hope that maybe the Ghost Stalkers would be willing to trade the men in exchange for equivalent goods. What that meant concerned you.

The troop walked until sundown, at which point König raised up a hand and the group ground to a halt. He barked a few orders, and the tribesmen set down the baskets and bundles and settled down onto the earth. You glanced around for a place to sit that wasn’t cold. Tired of waiting for you to settle, König tugged you into his lap.

“You’re still picky,” he grumbled as he pulled out a spit of dried fish, “you need to get over that.”

“The ground is muddy,” you fussed as you turned so your back lay against his chest.

“So?” König chuffed, “it doesn’t matter.”

“But I don’t like getting mud on my clothes,” you whined.

“I don’t like mud on my clothes,” König shrugged, “but I still sit. I could’ve forced you to sit in the mud too.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I’m not that mean,” König took a bite of fish before offering it to you.

You chewed a mouthful slowly. You chased it down with a glug of water from the skin at your hip before settling back into König’s arms. He easily wove himself around you and settled his chin into the crook of your neck.

“My feet hurt,” you said as you crossed your legs.

“Do they?”

“They do,” you murmured, “how long have we been walking for?”

“Long enough to need a rest,” König supplied, “so we rest.”

You looked up into the sky to see the sky slowly fading into a deep gold.

“The sun will be setting soon,” you frowned, “will the Ghost Stalkers still be awake when we get there?”

“Of course,” König chuckled, “they only come out at night. That’s why we left this morning.”

You thought back to the long legs striding through the dark, lit up by white lines painted on their skin.

Above, the sun set down beneath the horizon and the moon crept up behind it. You looked up into the sky to see clouds of glittering stars swimming in the depths of space. Behind you, König grunted and pushed you up to your feet.

“Already?” you groaned.

“The quicker the better,” König retorted before standing and barking a set of commands. 

The cannibals grumbled and groaned as they gathered their bearings and baskets and prepared for the final leg of the journey. Together you marched by moonlight through the forest.

The world was surprisingly bright in the night. Your eyes had adjusted to be able to see surprisingly far in the dark. Once you would’ve been lost without a flashlight, but without the smog diluting the light, you were able to be confident in where you stepped.

In the distance, a warm glow blossomed on the earth. As you approached, it split into separate spires of light, then into four distinct pillars topped with burning braziers. Below them, you saw the dark silhouettes of men.

König waved a hand above his head, open palmed and fingers outstretched and called to them. They were silent, and then one reached out a hand and called back a cold greeting. König waved to the others to follow. As he came closer, he put his club on his back and held up his open hands towards them. Around you, the cannibals followed suit. You silently slipped your own club to your side and followed their example.

When you were close enough to the braziers, the tall one in the center of the group yelled at you to stop and then walked into the light.

He looked somewhat like König. He also wore a golden mask, but no shroud or antlers. He was completely bare as he stepped forward and you averted your eyes. König didn’t seem as affected as you were.

“König,” the gold masked man greeted him, “why are you here?”

“You have things we want,” König replied cooly, “we came here to trade.”

The man tilted his head and waved over a couple of his lackeys.

“You two. Go check their baskets.”

The two men grunted affirmatively and slipped into the crowd. König watched them warily before turning back to the masked man.

“Andrew,” he coughed, “I’m sure you’re well?”

“As always, König,” he bit out, “what are you trading for?”

“I know there are four men you took prisoner,” König said and looked down on the man, “they are of my wife’s old clan. She wants to see to it that they are free men. I’m looking to take them into my tribe.”

“Prisoners?” Andrew scowled behind his mask, “I have no prisoners König. Are you sure you heard correctly?”

“Four men in strange clothes came in. I know they were last in your territory,” König growled and stepped closer.

Andrew took a step back slowly, “I do not have prisoners, but these men… Do they wear black skins?”

“Strange ones, yes,” König agreed, “they are big. Strong. I believe they were warriors.”

Recognition flashed behind Andrew’s eyes.

“Four men in black… Yes I know them,” Andrew rubbed his vagus nerve soothingly, “I saw them out in the meadows at the edge of our territory. They are difficult to speak to. I can’t understand what they say.”

“My wife’s language,” König gestured to you, “do you think you can help us find those men?”

“If you agree to take them off my territory I’d be glad to,” Andrew laughed, “they’ve been killing my men on sight. If you manage to survive, then you’ve earned them.”

König glanced down at you.

“That sounds like them,” you told him.

König nodded and turned back to Andrew, “Let us camp here for one week and we’ll get rid of them for you.”

“A week?” Andrew hummed, “I can give you five days.”

“Five days in your camp.”

Andrew held out a hand and König shook it. Your king turned back to his tribe and ordered them to follow, and he in turn followed Andrew back into their camp.

As you crept back into the dark, white stripes and spots moved in the distance. As you grew closer, you could see their forms in the dark and pressed close to König as memories resurfaced.

Andrew walked beside you, glancing down at you and König intermittently. As he came back to his people, he called them around.

“The northern tribe has come to rid of us of the strange men,” he bellowed, “he will be staying here with his people for the next five days. Show them kindness and forgiveness as they share our land here.”

The people murmured among themselves, but a small man stepped forth to examine you. König stared down at him as he approached, but instead of focusing on König he was intent on looking at you. His eyes narrowed and he glanced back at Andrew.

“She’s of the same kind. Can we trust her?”

“She is König’s wife,” Andrew said in a levelled tone, “I trust her enough as I trust him.”

The man nodded and stepped back into the crowd. You watched him retreat, focusing on the circles and dots painted on his back. You looked away hurriedly. Something was familiar about those markings.

You shook your head. There wasn’t any point to dredging up old wounds. It wasn’t like any of these people were actually against you.

And yet that was exactly what unnerved you. There was nothing personal about their hunting. It was just an accepted part of life. You were prey in their eyes. From what you knew of König’s tribe, they were much the same way. Lone humans were prey. You realized the only reason Andrew hadn’t attacked on sight was because there was a large enough group of you to be a worthy adversary. As a group, you were recognized. As one, you were prey.

You tucked in closer to König under his tent.

“You’re okay,” he muttered as he pulled you into his chest.

“I’m scared though,” you replied.

“They won’t kill us,” König assured you, “if they did, they’d start a war between the tribes. Andrew is smarter than that.”

You nodded and snuggled into his chest. If König said you were safe, who were you to argue? You just hoped Andrew would stay true to his word.

Your eyes snapped open.

Why was a cannibal named Andrew?

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universes

Cannibal King!Konig

[gremlinmodetweeker]

holy fuck sorry just thought of something and I had to write it before it flew away.

you work at a men’s department store. unusual, next to the large mannequins and suit sets- dressed in heels and tight skirts with a measuring tape to tie it together in a centimeter marked bow.

but the pay is nice, and for the most part you’re a service for gentleman. heavy wallets. wandering eyes, but hands that stay in the pockets you alter.

it’s summer, a slow season for cotton suit jackets. but on your evening shift, you get an appointment notification. he’s polite over the phone, if not a little curt. normal.

the first thing you register is his size. tank of an individual. swings his shoulders when he walks due to their weight. a height that slouches his neck. wide arms.

the second is his suit is extremely worn.

tattered, ripped seams, thinning fabric. criticism tears it to bits when he reveals the event is a wedding. you send him a gentle look from behind your lashes.

“are you…sure you don’t want to buy a new suit?”

he scoffs, but doesn’t respond. you sigh.

“at least look at some of the options.”

and then you’re measuring him, and bless your soul it’s hard to keep yourself professional. hands following the thick ropes of muscle to get his wing span, around his arms to get his shoulder. realizing when you kneel in front of him to get his thighs, just how fucking large he is.

and then the bastard adjusts his pants.

hands pulling at the trouser waist band, thick fingers in the belt loops. and horrifically, just as you look up, you catch the imprint of his fat cock settling between his legs.

swells behind the fly zipper. you feel light headed when he lets go, and it bounces before disappearing. teased. you swallow thickly.

the corner of his mouth twitches.

“what do you think, sweet’eart. need a different size?”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Morning Meetings of Twittering Sparrows

Centaur!König continues to be an ass, but he's opening up a bit. I think there's only so much you can do to avoid a glowing ball of sunshine before it begins to get to you. Why does reader put up with it? She gets paid to deal with snarky sulky soldiers. However, maybe it's also just fun to deal with König.

Tws: PSTD attack, night terrors, soothing someone with a night terror, PTSD, discussions of mental health and trauma

Wordcount: 2.4K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Morning Meetings of Twittering Sparrows

König’s dorm room was surprisingly personal if you considered how clinical the facility was. He’d been allowed to hang up posters, medals and certificates alongside having a few little innocuous knickknacks lying around. You spotted a few fidget toys scattered across his desk. Beside it, a metal wire trashcan was overflowing with crumpled papers. You looked around to see that König had kicked your bed as far away from his own as possible.

König snorted and flicked his tail irritably as you stepped in. You noticed that there was an empty closet beside your bed to store your pack bags and your shirts.

“Didn’t take long to get a double room,” you mused as you looked at your bedding.

König’s ears were practically plastered to the sides of his head. He couldn’t possibly look more displeased, not even if he tried.

“Do you know what the plan is for tomorrow?” you asked as you shucked your pack bags.

“I don’t know,” König sloughed his shirt, “and I don’t care. Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you slipped on a t-shirt for sleep.

“Just…” König sighed, “leave me alone. Please.”

You frowned, but you weren’t going to push him more than you already had. You figured it was already enough having been forced to be moved from his old room and saddled with a new therapy partner. As it was, you’d pushed him far enough today. 

Settling into your bed, you rolled on your side and stretched into the bean-bag. Your bedding was cheap. Obviously it was utilitarian in nature, but you could endure. You’d just put in a request with Price to get your old stuff back from Johnny’s place. For now, you could endure a night or two like this.

You closed your eyes, listening to König across the room. His ears were still flat against his head. It seemed that being frustrated was just König’s default mood. At some point you’d have to deal with his baseline mood. It wasn’t healthy to live like that.

Your eyelids grew heavy. That would be a tomorrow issue, you figured. All things in due time.

Your eyes snapped open at the sound of a loud thud. You looked around the room, but nothing seemed amiss. You rolled over onto your other side to look at the rest of the room.

There, in the far corner, König shuffled in his bed again. 

In an instant, you were clambering to your hooves.

As you approached, König kicked out again, slamming the wall with another heavy thud. So that’s what woke you up.

Before you could get closer, König’s heavy panting picked up and the anxious grunts and mutters turned into small cries into the night. 

“König?” you approached tentatively.

His groans grew louder the closer you got. His shuffling became full on thrashing. You watched as his hooves slammed against the wall again and again.

You winced despite yourself. You were trained for this though. This was the entire reason you were here.

You approached just out of arm’s reach and settled down.

“Hey,” you said as gently as you could, “it’s okay König.”

You winced as he screamed and rolled over again.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him again and again, patiently waiting for the night terror to pass.

There was no point in waking someone in a night terror. You’d learned early on in your courses that waking someone during a night terror tended to make the symptoms worse. It was, as much as it pained you to admit, safer to let the night terror pass in peace. It would end in time. You just needed to guide him through it.

"GET BACK!" König screamed into the night.

Memories, evidently. Not surprising, but not comforting.

"No, NO!" König bellowed and kicked the wall hard enough to make the shelves above shudder.

What was he seeing in there? What was he living again? You could only try to imagine what König was going through. When you'd dealt with other soldiers, they tended to settle down by now. It seemed König was something else.

König sat up straight and his eyes snapped open, staring directly into your eyes. You were completely frozen in place.

"König?" you asked quietly.

He barked a list of orders into your face and slumped back over into bed.

Just part of the night terror, it seemed.

You looked around and your eyes landed on the glass of water on the night table. You quietly moved it out of reach and settled back to soothing him, promising him that it would end and he’d be okay. There was nothing you could do to do more. If you tried touching him… You shook your head at the thought. It was safer to just let him be.

Below you, König was slowly relaxing.

König’s yells grew softer, his breathing eased.

You smiled.

It was passing.

Slowly but steadily, König relaxed back into the bed. His breathing levelled out and he curled around his long body pillow. You watched him curl his hooves back up and he settled back into bed.

You got up and slowly walked back to your bed. Before you slept, you grabbed your journal and checked the time. You jotted it down, then a few notes for the morning, and then went back to sleep.

The next day you had a plan to get started. While you couldn’t provide therapy directly, you could help get König on a healthier sleep routine to hopefully help combat the night terrors. Of course, you just had to get him to agree to the help.

You cut your apple into pieces with a loose smile.

“What?” König growled.

“Nothing,” you replied, “just enjoying breakfast. What about you?”

König looked at the bowl of oatmeal sitting in front of him like it had personally wronged him.

“They offer a good variety of breakfast options,” you said in hopes of subtly nudging him.

“They do,” König agreed, “but they are not all healthy. This is. That,” he pointed his spoon at your apple, “is raw sugar in a plant.”

You looked down at your plate. All that you saw was an innocent little apple sitting on white plastic.

“I like it though,” you said.

“Hmph,” König snorted and shook his head, “of course that would be what you care about. If you were more careful with your diet, maybe you would be a bit stronger.”

“You don’t know how healthy I am,” you scoffed.

König shrugged, “If you’re eating apples for breakfast? I don’t need to.”

You decidedly ignored him as you continued eating. It wasn’t worth getting into it so early in the morning. There were more pressing matters at hand.

“Did you sleep well last night?” you asked hopefully.

König glared at you momentarily.

“Did you?”

“I did,” he said quietly, “better than usual. Why?”

“I was just wondering,” you nibbled on your apple with a small smile.

König’s ears flicked irritably, but he at least seemed to drop the subject. Instead, he pulled out a square of paper and put it on the table. He slid it to you reluctantly.

“These are the activities today,” he said bitterly, “I thought you’d want to look at them.”

You took the paper from him and raised it up to get a better look.

“It looks like they have some interesting courses,” you muttered and sipped on your juice, “quadruped morning yoga? That sounds interesting. Oh! It looks like you’ll be meeting with Dr. Laswell after lunch. Do you want me to be there for that?”

König raised an eyebrow. He shuffled his shoulders awkwardly and tapped a hoof on the ground.

“I can stay out if you’d like,” you offered.

The black shire centaur didn’t say a word. Instead, he sighed and crossed his arms over his jacket.

“You can come in,” he said reluctantly, “you’ll probably have something to say anyways.”

You frowned, “I don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I mean, I have to be by your side, sure, but when you’re in appointments with professionals or I’m on break I can leave you alone.”

König sighed heavily.

“I’d like you in the therapy appointments,” he said slowly.

“Y-You would?” you recomposed yourself quickly, “of course I’d join you! I share breakfast with you on my schedule, but you get a break from me from lunch to two and then from dinner to eight. So if it helps, you’re not stuck with me forever.”

König nodded and took another bite of porridge. He glanced around at the rest of the cafeteria and grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“It’s loud in here,” he repeated, “why do they have us all eat in here?”

You thought for a moment, then asked, “Would you prefer to take your breakfast to your room?”

“If I could I would,” König snorted.

“Well, I could put in a word for you during my meeting at lunch,” you offered.

König’s ears twitched upwards briefly, “You could do that?”

“Of course!” you grinned, “I can make things a lot easier for you around here.”

König hummed and took another bite of his porridge. When he finished, he put his bowl back on his tray and appraised you briefly. For the first time, you thought you might have seen a hint of a smile behind his mask.

“Maybe you’ll be useful,” he said.

Before you could say anything, he took your empty tray and walked back to the kitchen. You watched him leave and blinked. You took out your journal and jotted in a few notes. Evidently, dealing with König would be a little bit easier than you thought.

König trotted back and you got a brief chance to see him deal with the other residents while he did so. He was a large centaur, but somehow he looked so small as he carefully stepped over wings and tails and talons alike. He was so intensely careful, completely unlike the gruff exterior he put on for you. His hooves fell lightly on the linoleum floor, practically silent considering his large size. In fact, if you didn’t see him coming you wouldn’t have expected him at all. It slightly unsettled you to watch him approach.

When König came back to the standing table he adjusted his pack bag on his back and looked at you expectantly.

“I’m going back to my room before I go to the gym. You're coming, I guess?”

You tucked your notebook in your pack bag and nodded eagerly. He rolled his eyes at your display but waved for you to follow along behind him.

“Do you workout?” König asked as his hooves echoed against the clinical flooring.

“Not as much as I should,” you admitted.

“Then I’ll help you,” König concluded.

“Help me?” you laughed, “what makes you think I’ll be working out too?”

“So you’ll just be standing around doing what? Nothing?” König glanced at you peevishly, “no, you’ll do something.”

An argument died in your throat. You sighed, and agreed, “Sure. I’ll workout with you.”

König hummed affirmatively as he slipped into his room. You noted that he held the door open with his back hoof for you.

In the light of day, you could actually get a good look at the decorations König had hastily put up last night. Evidently not to his standards by the way he adjusted things as he stepped by them. You noted that he’d lined up a few objects on the corner of his standing desk from smallest to largest.

“Still unpacking from yesterday?” you asked.

König hummed as he pulled out a small medal. He looked at it for a moment, then turned to show it to you.

“I was a colonel in KorTac,” he said as he looked down at the medal, “I was promoted when I turned thirty five. I served with them for nearly fifteen years.”

“That’s incredible,” you murmured as you looked at the medal in his hands.

“I served in the Austrian Jagkommmando from seventeen to twenty eight,” König said as he pulled the medal back, “then I transferred to KorTac and acted as an insertion specialist in hostage rescue situations,” he looked you in the eyes as he gravely said, “I’m a war hero.”

“How did you manage to do all that?” you wondered, “I mean, that’s such a short amount of time.”

“I was good at what I did, Apple,” König looked out the window, “but not good enough.”

“I don’t think being here takes away from everything you’ve accomplished.”

König’s shoulders sagged.

“I’d rather have died serving than be trapped in here,” he said quietly.

“Maybe there’s more to life,” you offered, “it doesn’t have to end here.”

König shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand. You’re a civilian.”

“I’m a civilian, sure, but I've met a lot of veterans that feel just like you when they first leave,” you settled down on your bed, “but they find other things to bring meaning. I’m sure you’ll find something too.”

“But what?” König scoffed.

“Well,” you shrugged, “that’s why you’re here to figure out.”

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he reminded you.

“You say that, but I’m not so sure,” you sighed, “sometimes we don’t get a choice in these kinds of things.”

König stepped back to look at you from the corner of his eye. He glanced out the window, then sighed and nodded his head forwards.

“I wish I could believe you.”

You laughed, “Everything comes in time. You were a colonel, right? I’m sure you know a few things about patience.”

“I know when it’s been tried,” König muttered.

You chuckled at the comment.

“What?”

“It’s just,” you snickered to yourself, “you’re always so gruff and grumpy all the time. I think that’s the first time you made a joke that wasn’t mean.”

König rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I forgot how pathetic civilians were.”

“See that? You’re right back to making fun of me!”

“I’m not even mean,” König muttered to himself as he turned back to the window, “I’m just… Tired.”

“Tired of what?”

“Tired of everything,” König sighed, “tired of being here, tired of doing nothing all day, I’m tired of you for sure but I think you already know that.”

“It comes with the territory,” you held up your hands in a shrug.

“I’m just…” König stepped side to side, “tired. And restless. I don’t know what I am anymore.”

You hummed and got to your feet to step beside König. You noticed he made a show of leaning away, but he soon stepped back to be closer to you.

“It’s a lot to deal with,” you told him, “I’m honestly impressed by how well you’re holding together. I know I’d have crumbled if I was in your shoes.”

“I know,” König snarked, “your weakness is a defining part of your character, Apple.”

“Really?” you asked, “I thought it was the fact that I ate sweets for breakfast.”

“Another example of your weakness,” König dismissed you quickly, then quietly added, “and how annoying you are.”

“You’re saying I’m annoying for eating apples for breakfast?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I’m saying your constant displays of weakness and your endless chatter are obnoxious, yes,” König flicked his tail at you.

“Well, me being ‘annoying’ seems to keep you busy with something other than your thoughts,” you shot back with a smile.

König’s ears somehow pressed further back as he stiffened. He quietly turned back to the window and crossed his arms.

“I liked it better when I didn’t know you.”

“I know!”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universes

Centaur!Konig

[gremlinmodetweeker]

my first actual contribution. hello mouthwashers

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Reunions Can Be Sweet

So, after meeting with your parents last week, it's time to meet Frankenstein!König's parents. Thankfully, this time it's a bit easier.

Tws: necrophilia jokes??? I don't even know

Wordcount: 1.9K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Reunions Can Be Sweet

The doorbell rang and you looked at König.

“Remember,” you said, “I’m going to bring them to you. Just wait, okay?”

“I know,” König squirmed on the sofa, “I just don’t know how to even see them now.”

You kissed the top of his head as the doorbell rang again.

“It’ll be fine,” you promised and left him in the living room.

When you got to the front door, you took a moment to take a deep breath. Whatever happened next, you couldn’t take it back. With that in mind, you opened the door.

“Hallo?” the tall woman looked down at you sadly, “is it okay if we come in?”

You staggered back and opened the door for her and her husband. It didn’t matter how many times you saw them; König’s parents stood at staggering heights. His father had to duck down to get past the lampshade you’d hung up when you first moved in. It was hard to believe that there was a man taller than König, but here Frtiz stood.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly.

“I don’t blame you,” he muttered in an uncharacteristically small voice, “I didn’t know if we’d ever see you again.”

Annabelle shot him a glare and he winced into himself. She gave you a sympathetic look as she slipped off her flats and said, “I”m sorry, Fritz hasn’t been himself lately. Now, what did you say about having a surprise for us?”

“Please no more,” Fritz murmured, “the last one-ach.”

Annabelle brushed down her long skirt and huffed.

"Obviously we're worried, but you sounded positive on the phone," Annabelle said with a practised smile, "I'm sure you know the pain we've been through lately and you wouldn't do anything to make it worse."

“Of course!" you agreed as you eyed the cross that hung around Annabelle's neck.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Of course! Just follow me.

"So, um,” you began to lead them down the hall, “you’re going to have a lot of questions. I just want you to know that-”

Annabelle dropped her purse the moment she stepped into the room. Fritz cursed and picked it up, then he too froze when he looked at the man on the sofa.

“Mama, Papa,” König whispered as he slowly stood, “I’m back.”

Instead of screaming, cursing, declaring witchcraft, Annabelle stepped forward. She took another step, then another, and then she lunged into her son’s arms.

Behind her, Fritz stumbled forth in the same sort of trance. He took his wife and son in his arms, and together they sobbed.

“How?” Annabelle whispered, “was this all a joke?”

“No Mama,” König sighed, “I did die. I’m back now though.”

“But this is impossible!” Fritz stepped back to look at König, “and what’s with this rag over your head?” he paused, “you are König, right?”

“Of course I am Papa,” König laughed, “here.” He pulled his shirt out of the way to his collar, revealing a splotchy freckle on his clavicle.

Annabelle licked her thumb and rubbed at it, staring in wonder as it stuck. 

You coughed in the background, “I’m the one that brought him back.”

Annabelle turned to you with tears streaming down her cheeks, “You brought my baby back. How? How did you do it?”

You grimaced, “I found some studies when I was doing my final paper a while back. I never thought they’d be of any use, but...

“And now he’s back,” Annabelle smiled and wrapped her arms around you.

Fritz stepped back and clapped his son on the shoulders and admired him.

“I thought the injuries were so bad that they had a closed casket funeral,” he muttered.

“She stitched me back up,” König told him, “and I think I was replaced with a pig. Isn't that right?”

Annabelle raised an eyebrow as she stepped back.

“It was a pig,” you admitted meekly, “I had to get his body as fresh as possible.”

Annabelle nodded slowly and turned back to her son, happily ignoring you to focus on her returned son. You worried she'd denounce you in the name of God or something, but that seemed to be the furthest thought in her mind. Annabelle reached up and cradled König's chin through the fabric mask. You heard her mutter something in German, to which König nodded and replied in kind. Fritz chimed in with something else that made König laugh and shake his head.

You smiled as you looked at the trio reconnect. Annabelle said something to Fritz, probably about König’s siblings if you heard their names correctly. Fritz nodded and you could pick out him saying yes to something Annabelle said.

With nothing left to say, you silently crept away into the kitchen to make a call you'd been putting off for weeks.

The phone rang twice, and then your professor picked up.

“Hello?” you heard him say, “who is this?”

You told him your name and then rushed through the whole scenario with König. Your professor listened carefully. In the background, you could hear the clinking of plates and a chair scraping back.

“So you’re saying you brought a dead man back to life?” Dr. Humboldt whispered, “through my research?”

“Yes sir,” you whispered eagerly, “I followed the instructions perfectly. I even managed to get the same chemical fluids through the hospital I used to intern at. I changed a few of the steps, but it worked. It actually worked.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. After a minute, you leaned back to look at the phone to check if he was still on the line. You pressed the phone back up to your ear.

“Hello?”

Dr. Humboldt coughed and you heard him thump his chest.

“I’m sorry about that,” he rasped, “I just didn’t know anyone would ever see those. I was laughed out of the committee when I presented that paper. By the end I thought I made it all up! But if you can actually replicate them…”

“Then it means they worked,” you finished for him.

“What steps did you change,” he asked in a fierce whisper, “how did you manage to do it? I thought it was a fluke!”

“I changed up the preservation methods and I used a higher voltage to jump-start the heart,” you explained, “I also did a few different things around putting the pieces back together, but I took pictures of the process.”

“And the finished result. How long did it live for?” Dr. Humboldt asked.

You paused.

“Um, sir,” you looked behind you towards the living room, “it’s nearly a month and he’s still alive.”

Dr. Humboldt was silent again for a moment.

“You need to bring your subject to my office,” Dr. Humboldt said, “immediately. I need to see this to believe it.”

“I can send you my process in an email tonight,” you offered, “but I don’t think I can take König outside yet.”

“Why not?”

“Well…” you took a deep breath, “I didn’t practise on rats.”

“What?”

You took a deep breath and then quickly squeaked out, “I used my boyfriend.”

“Y-your boyfriend?” Dr. Humboldt stuttered, “you used a living human being? You’re joking.”

“Not a living person,” you said quickly, “he died in an accident. That’s why I brought him back.”

“You’re insane. That’s impossible.”

“No sir, he’s in my living room hugging his parents right now,” you said.

Dr. Humboldt clicked his pen furiously as he hummed slowly. He sighed, then said, “This could get you banned from the college,” he started, “you could be blacklisted before you’ve even started your work.”

“I understand sir,” your heart cracked in your chest.

“Your entire career could be in jeopardy. But…” Dr. Humboldt breathed slowly through his nose, “if what you’re saying is true, then I need to see him in my office.”

“But sir I don’t know if that’s possible,” you replied nervously, “how am I supposed to get him there?”

“He can fit in a car, can’t he?” Dr. Humboldt offered.

“I mean, yes, but I just don’t know how other people would react to him,” you explained.

“You brought a dead man back to life and you’re worried what other people will say?” Dr. Humboldt laughed incredulously, “you can’t be serious.”

“I mean, if you’d like, I could have you come to my place?”

“But I wouldn’t…” Dr. Humboldt thought for a moment, “if I can authenticate your findings, you’ll bring him into my lab.”

“What about bringing him out in public?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Dr. Humboldt shot you down immediately, “honestly I should report you to the police for this. This goes against everything the board of ethics stands for. I think this is the most flagrant violation I’ve ever seen in my life.

“But if you’re right and you’ve actually brought a man back to life…”

“It changes everything we know,” you whispered back.

“More than that,” Dr. Humboldt went on, “it changes how we operate as a society. Our entire civilization is built on the fact that death is a permanent end. This changes literally everything about how humans interact with the natural world.”

Your eyes widened as his words echoed in your mind. You’d been thinking of this entirely from a clinical point of view, but your professor was right. This was beyond medicine. This was beyond anything in science as a whole; it was a question of how this finding could impact the entirety of human society.

“You understand, right?”

“I do sir,” you replied, “just took me a moment to take it in.”

“Now look. What’s your address. I’m coming over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you stammered, “that soon?”

“The sooner the better,” Dr. Humboldt explained, “I’d come over now, but my wife would literally kill me if I left now.”

“Understandable,” you nodded and gave him your address. You heard him scratch it down on a piece of paper before he picked up the phone again.

“I can be there at ten tomorrow,” he said.

“Ten pm?”

“No, ten am,” Dr. Humboldt corrected swiftly, “be ready for me. I want to see everything you’ve done.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Good,” Dr. Humboldt relaxed slightly, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to tell my wife to pick up my son tomorrow. I think I’ll be busy.”

The phone clicked and you tucked it back in your pocket. Behind you, laughter echoed out from the living room.

When you returned, König was relaxing on the sofa as his parents sat across from him. The moment you walked in they turned and switched to english.

“There you are!” Annabelle grinned, “we were just talking about you!”

“Oh,” you sat down beside König, “good things I hope.”

“Very good things!” Annabelle said eagerly, “I hear that König is healing well?”

“I should be taking his stitches out any day,” you said, “it’s honestly incredible how well he’s recovering.”

Fritz nodded approvingly.

Annabelle leaned into Fritz and muttered something in his ear. He nodded and replied in kind. Annabelle patted his knee and turned back to you with a smile.

“So, if Alexander is a living man again, he’s back to functioning as normal?”

“Better than, actually,” you cheerfully told her, “his breathing is better, his blood pressure’s lower, it’s perfect across the board.”

"He's better than before?" Fritz marvelled.

"It's like nothing I've ever seen before."

König wormed in his chair as all eyes in the room landed on him. He glanced at his mother, then his father, then back at you. You gently patted his knee and he relaxed under your touch.

“So..." Annabelle started slowly, "then you can still have grandchildren?"

Your face dropped as you turned to König.

He gave you a thumbs up.

“Um, Annabelle,” you started awkwardly, “I don’t think it’s really appropriate-”

“She says she won’t fuck me because I died.” König cut in.

Annabelle frowned, “Well, he’s alive now, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but, well-”

“See Mama?” König gestured at you, “look what I’ve come back to.”

“This is not healthy for a relationship,” Fritz grumbled.

“Exactly! We were perfectly fine before!” König clasped a hand on your shoulder, “what happened between us?”

“You died!” you squawked, “are we seriously talking about this right now?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Annabelle huffed, “it’s a serious subject!”

“You’re his parents!” you spluttered.

“So?” Fritz raised a bushy white brow, “maybe an outside opinion would help.”

You groaned and flopped back in the sofa. In the distance, the over timer dinged.

König grinned, “Dinner’s ready!”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universes

Frankenstein!König

[gremlinmodetweeker]

78 / 1.7k / part 2 of remora!reader surviving orca!König's tank for mermay 🦈

...

“Alex? Alex!” Your hands press up against the glass. But Alex—the diver you trusted, the one who you thought was your friend, turns away from you. "Please..."

König watches the commotion from a distance. His hand—palm wide enough to fully engulf a human's skull—flexes in annoyance. Your desperate wailing disrupts the fragile hierarchy of the tank. He tolerates it for exactly fourteen seconds before surging forward with a speed like he isn’t the biggest thing in the tank.

His shadow swallows your smaller form against the glass. The next thing you know, he's snatched your thrashing wrists above your head with one hand and pressed you against the tank's barrier with the other.

"Quiet."

The barked command makes the glass behind your head ring. Net-like fabric floats around his head as he stares you down with eerie stillness. His tail coils beneath you and his body is taut—ready to shake sense into you the old-fashioned way if you wiggle.

Remoras are clingy by nature, feeding off scraps from proper predators. Weakness incarnate. Yet something in your wide-eyed stare pricks at recollections of his own helplessness years ago. He dismisses this immediately.

"Improve your posture before Horangi circles back," he mutters, jerking your wrists higher. "He chews on twitchy things. Understand?"

You stare at him, utterly still. You can't quite make out what he's saying over the roar of blood in your ears. Still, you're careful to keep your tail from brushing his as you hang limply from his grip. You shouldn’t touch an angry orca without begging permission.

König’s pointer finger hooks under your jaw to force your chin up. "Begging makes you smaller." The last word comes out punctuated by a mean poke of his pinky finger’s claw against your neck. "Do you hear me? If you value your pretty throat, stop bleating like seal bait."

You blink up at him, pupils still huge. You swallow and try to choose your next words carefully. What comes out, however, is, "You think it's pretty?"

A beat passes—long enough for Horangi’s silhouette to glide past the tank's far not-coral formation.

König’s exhale bubbles out in a low, irritated tsch that flutters the netting in front of his lips. He pushes your jaw to the side to make you break eye contact. He has half a mind to make you expose your neck, too. Your tiny remora brain must not have parsed his words correctly. "I meant the tendons. Weak spots. Delicate." He makes his voice arrogant and attached. "In that sense, yes."

"Oh." Tendons. You have pretty tendons, then. Your fingertips—still hostage above your head—tap unthinkingly against the side of his fingers. You tilt your neck, opening it to him even more, despite his claws floating around it. "Do you like weak spots? I have a lot."

König’s head tilts. His grip on your jaw shifts—pressing your head back until your entire throat bows taut under his claws. One casual flick, and he could open it up like the human divers unzip their suits. His inky tail presses in to hem you in from below. Not that you're trying to escape.

"You mistake patience for interest," he growls, though his thumb makes another lazy pass over your throbbing pulse. "The question is whether your many weak spots make you worth the effort of keeping alive."

"It wouldn't be. Except..." You let your eyes wander down his body. Then you look away. "Well... No, it's nothing."

"Spit it out."

You wriggle in his grip again and shoot him a coquettish look. "For a mer as big and strong as you, it would be easy to keep me alive. I bet no one ever picks a fight with an orca."

A chuckle rumbles up from his chest. You think you've got him right where you want him until the sound becomes a growl that reverberates through your skull where he's still pinning it to the glass.

"Cringing flattery." He releases your wrists just to splay his hand over your ribcage. The span of his palm covers your torso. "But that's right, foolish schmarotzer. Every fight ever picked with me ends with the problem sinking to the seabed in pieces. Fighting is easy. Easy is tiresome."

He pulls you away from the tank wall and pushes you suddenly downward. After a long descent, your back hits the shallowly-sanded tank floor hard enough to dredge up a bloom of silt. You let out an uncomfortable uff. His palm splays wide against your sternum—not crushing, but containing. Two clawtips press divots into the skin above your heart. "I tire of flattery. Your lines are stink up my tank. Mold your clever mouth around something else."

"What else is there?"

König's answering exhale is a stream of bubbles that pop fizz against your face. The claws at your sternum drag downward, ginger enough to etch thin white lines that bloom pink. “Your tongue is as dull as your teeth. Better to use it for scraping barnacles off my scales. Or" —his thumb presses hard into the hollow under your chin— “begging. But you are much worse at that.” The pressure relents only for his claws to flex around your throat.

A shark’s silhouette passes overhead—Horangi’s lithe form pausing to observe the disturbance before gliding onward. König’s gaze flicks up, tracking him.

You watch him watch Horangi. Begging—for what? Food? Shelter? No, it's not that, you realize, seeing Horangi's brief smirk and feeling König's grip tighten in response. He wants your fear; your unquestioning respect. He wants you something easy under his thumb to beg for his mercy.

Your reaction is instinctive and immediate. You try not to seem as eager to please as you actually are, but you can't help the way your pupils dilate at having found a niche. "Please," you mewl. You clutch his wrist—the one connected to the hand still wrapped around your throat and chest—with eager hands. "Please release me. Throw me to the shark instead; he’ll be kinder." You make sure to say this loudly enough to reach Horangi's ears.

König’s head snaps back toward you, hood whipping through the water. The whites of his eyes flash briefly before narrowing to glacial slits. When Horangi draws closer, nostrils flaring at the metallic tang of adrenaline, König lashes out at him a territorial swipe of his claws. Horangi darts back, but his interest is clearly piqued.

König hauls you upright by the throat and shoulders. “Dummes biest,” he hisses. “You think you can gift yourself to the sharks? Your life is mine. I decide when you become chum.”

To emphasize this, he drags you toward the coral outcropping where Horangi has settled to watch as he sharpens a stolen diver’s knife against a rock. Horangi’s grin widens.

König stops just shy of Horangi’s reach. He thrusts you forward like a fisherman presenting live bait.

“Here.” His voice drops to a taunting purr. “Beg him for death, if you’re so eager.”

You stare at Horangi. You open your mouth but can’t form the words.

Horangi’s golden eyes gleam. He leans in. “Oh? Brave little scavenger—”

König yanks you back against his chest before the shark’s claw can graze your cheek. A low, resonant click rolls through his chest—an orca’s warning—as Horangi retreats with a scoff. “Not brave. Stupid.” He forces your head to crane up at him. “But stupidity is fixable. You want to be shark food? Earn it. Kneel first. Then maybe I’ll let Horangi take a finger. A fin.” His thumb traces your lower lip. “Your impudent tongue.”

You positively squirm as he holds you there and takes inventory of your weak points. You've never been objectified quite like this before. It's thrilling.

You’re rewarded with a sharp jerk of his claws. He bends you, forcing your spine to arch against the solid plane of his chest. You're meant to pick scraps from his kills, but here you writhe as if starved for a different purpose. "You vibrate like a shrimp in a net," he mutters. His big hands drag your smaller frame flush against the lethal curve of his pectoral fins. The scarred edges bite faintly into your hips. He could sand your scaled skin to pulp with a single thrash.

Horangi keeps watching. He scrapes the knife’s blade idly over the pad of his thumb. Then König notices you noticing Horangi noticing you. “Eyes forward,” he snaps at the tiger shark with a low, clicking sound in his chest. “This one is not your chew toy.”

“Fine, fine,” Horangi replies. He stretches and retreats with a curious flick of his tail.

König’s attention returns to you. You’re still not trying to escape. You must enjoy being manhandled. Stupid little putzerfisch. “You lick the hand that throttles you. Pathetic. But…” He drags a clawtip up your neck to tap your bottom lip. “Convenient.”

You resist the urge to catch it in your mouth and suck on it. "Convenient is good?"

"Convenient is tolerable." His finger pushes past your teeth before you can react, the blunt tip pressing down on your tongue. Saliva clouds the water as he drags the claw along the sensitive muscle. "Good would imply you have use beyond this."

You nod obediently. Or you try, but the weight of König's finger makes it difficult. "’M utheleth," you agree around his claw.

He pulls it out with a wet pop. "Useless and honest. A rare combination."

He releases you abruptly, sending you drifting backward in the current. Before you can right yourself, his palm slams against the sand beside your head, caging you beneath the shadow of his dorsal fin. The black-and-white patterning of his tail seems to warp in the murky water.

"You will make yourself less useless starting tomorrow." His claws pluck a stray seashell from the sand and flick it disdainfully toward the tank's filtration system. "Clean this cesspit. Remove debris. Scrape algae from the glass. If I see a single parasite on Nikto’s scales, I will peel yours off and feed them to you." His gaze follows Horangi, who’s now circling the tank’s upper levels with roiling boredom. "And when the sharks demand entertainment," he adds, leaning down until his mask brushes your temple, "you will not volunteer your tongue. It belongs to me."

With that, he shoves off the sand and surges upward, his tailfin disappearing in a cloud of silt.

...

part 1 / [part 2] / part 3

more mer au / more KorTac / masterlist

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Sleep is For People Who Have Nothing

Okay, super short Cannibal King!König before I go off. I always find it funny how I essentially write King!King every time I write this tag. So silly. I really hope this part helps set up the rest of the plot. I think this starts act two of the story here.

Tws: cannibalism mentioned

Wordcount: 1.4K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Sleep is For People Who Have Nothing

Days shifted into weeks into months. The world you once knew faded into a hazy history as the view ahead became clearer with each passing day by König’s side. Your time was spent fishing, weaving and gathering from your new gardens. Your hardest days were spent toiling under the baking hot sun with girls who laughed as your fingers fumbled when you missed a stitch. At one point you would’ve shrunken in on yourself under their scorn, but you’d learned that the cannibals here didn’t poke and prod you out of a true ire, but rather a friendly camaraderie as they accepted you into their hearts and homes.

But the sun needed to set, and the days grew colder as the leaves changed colour. Fern and sage bled gold and crimson into the skies and down beneath your feet. The forest was set ablaze in a calliope of colours and leaves whirling on  the winds. With this change came a fierce cold that nipped you in the night.

Sleeping with König was a strange event. On one hand, it was hard to ignore him. On a practical scale, he was simply too big to ignore. He quite literally took up most of the space in the hut. Not metaphorically, but physically. If you wanted to be out of reach you had to lean against the wall if you wanted some space to yourself lest you be wrapped up in his arms. But the nights were changing, and the chill leaked through the wood and into your skin as you slept and it was becoming unbearable. Things needed to change.

You watched König as he set the furs and blankets out again and fluffed his makeshift pillow. He hung his antlers up on a spoke above his ‘bed’ and glanced at you.

“It is cold,” he stated simply. 

“I know,” you shuffled closer to his side, “will you be okay?”

“I’m used to this,” he grunted as he lowered down to lay beside you in the furs.

His eyes scanned over you as he pulled you in close to his side, revering your form beside him. Almost as though you were afraid of his eyes, you buried in close to him and lay your head down on his arm. His free hand ran over your side as he sighed.

“You’re getting stronger,” he murmured.

“Am I?”

“You are,” he hummed, “it’s good to see. You might even be strong enough to defend yourself now.”

“Me?” you laughed, “König, I haven’t won a sparring match against you yet. Not once.”

“You do not need to beat me to be strong enough,” König told you simply.

His warmth had a sedating effect on you. The need to spit back had died in the back of your throat long ago. Fighting wasn’t as easy anymore. Resting was.

“I haven’t fought in a long time,” you admitted, “and not like this. This was my first deployment, actually.”

“Deployment?” König parroted curiously.

“I was sent here to find a family,” you explained, “a group of people came to this island a long time ago. They hadn’t been heard from in years, so me and my team were sent out to try and find them.”

“Your team?” König leaned in close, “you mean there are more of you?”

“Four others,” you said quietly, “I… They must be dead by now.”

König thought for a moment. He leaned in close as he tentatively asked, “There were four that came with you?”

You nodded as tears pricked in your eyes at the memories of their warm smiles and assurances. One of them, the scotsman, had promised you it wouldn’t take longer than a week to track them down. Here you were, months later and still lost in the wilderness.

“Four men?”

You turned to look up at König and nodded.

König’s eyes widened as his nostrils flared.

“What?” sleep left your voice, “wait, you know them?”

“Four men in black?” he helped you sit up in the furs.

“Yeah,” you said eagerly, “they were wearing clothes like mine. Have you seen them?”

König stared down at his hands as he took in your words. He thought for a moment, then turned to you slowly, almost as though he was afraid of what you might say. Your neck tensed as König met your eyes in the torchlight.

“I have,” he said quietly.

The sounds of the forest blended into the background. The hut seemed to collapse in on itself, crushing you and König together into a mass of flesh and teeth. Trembling, you opened your mouth but no words came out.

“I thought they were a new band, but if they were with you…” König’s jaw clicked, “you want them back.”

“We need to find them,” you said.

König held up a hand, “We will, but… This changes things.”

“Changes things?” you frowned, “how?”

“We can’t do anything right now,” he told you.

“I need to know where they are,” you insisted.

His eyes softened as he looked at you. His lips pulled thin and he looked up at the mask hanging up on the wall behind you both. König hummed, then nodded as he turned back to you.

“I’ll form a raiding party tomorrow,” he promised you.

“Why can’t you do it now?” you asked, “we need to find them! If they’re out there… We need to save them. When did you last see them? How do we know they’re still alive!? We need to go now! We need to-”

König held up a finger to your lips and shushed you softly.

“We will,” he said softly, “tomorrow. We’ll prepare tomorrow. I know where they are. They’re still alive.”

“But how can you be sure!?” your voice cracked in your throat.

König bit his lip.

“I just saw them,” he said, “they are safe. But I don’t know how safe it is to approach.”

“How come?” your eyes widened, “are they trapped!?”

“No no no,” König laughed under his breath, “they are fine. Trust me, we’ll form a group tomorrow.”

“We need the best raiders,” you determined, “the strongest. We need to form an army to get them back.”

“No,” König said as he slowly laid down, “we need to approach this carefully. This is bigger than you think.”

“How?” you spat and loomed over him as he rested, “how can you be so… So… It’s like you don’t get it! Don’t you realise how big this is for me!? Those are the only people I know from back home! Those are my friends! They’re my brothers!”

“And trust me when I say they’re fine,” König turned onto his back.

You clambered over him to straddle his waist as you said, “But how can you tell?”

König sighed and wrapped his hands around his waist to secure you in one place.

“Rabbit,” he said gently, “they are fine.”

“But they could be dying out there!” your voice rose as panic overwhelmed you, “they could be out there in the cold-”

König slapped a palm over your face and leaned up to hiss, “Quiet! You’ll wake the others if you’re like this!”

You squirmed and writhed against his hand and he sighed.

“Where they are is safe,” he promised you, “but I don’t want to cause a war over this. If we can do this peacefully, we will. If not, then we’ll take action. But if you wake everyone up right now, then nobody will get anything done. You’ll kill them if you keep this up.”

You stilled in his hands. Your shoulders slumped as you realised what König was saying was true. There was no use going in without a plan. But the longer you waited, the worse you felt it would get.

“Those men are not dead,” König promised, “they are captured, but they are safe. I know where they are. Tomorrow, we’ll go to them and see if we can release them. If not, we fight for them. Do not make a war over something that can be solved with peace.”

Sighing, you slumped down onto his chest. König quietly pulled blankets over you and tucked you in. Beneath you, he radiated heat like nothing else. You’d never noticed how warm König was. You’d never been this close.

“Sleep,” he said as he brushed his hand from your neck to down your back repeatedly, “it will be fine. They will be fine, we will be fine. It will all be okay.”

“You promise?” you asked.

“I promise,” he assured you, “now sleep. You need all the rest you can get for tomorrow.”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universe

Cannibal King!Konig

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Heya!!! I don’t know if you take writing requests but what about König at Oktoberfest with reader? I feel like he’d be like a giddy toddler or something🥰

Oh my gosh I love this so much. I needed to make something immediately because this is so good. I know it's a bit quick, but I hope you enjoy!

Also, to anyone wondering, I DO TAKE REQUESTS AND I LOVE ASKS. Please do not be afraid to reach out. Sometimes I'm slow to respond, but trust I do like them. Makes me feel special.

"W-Where is the Austrian representation!?"

You patted König's back gently, "Honey, it's a German celebration."

"It is, but it is also Austrian!" König huffed, "it's the culture! Not just one stupid fat bloated-bordered country that nobody even likes!"

"Actually, I like-"

"Where is the representation of my people?" König pointedly cut you off and gestured out to the crowd, "why is everything red, black and yellow?"

"Well, if it was red white and black that might cause some problems."

König peered down at you from behind his mask as though you'd just spat on his shoe. He narrowed his eyes and sniffed.

"Look, why don't you go and have fun?" you gently ushered him to the next stall of pretzels, "look, you love these!"

"I am not going to be won over by-Are those caramel pretzels!? We need to get one now."

You sighed, but obediently pulled out your wallet. If nothing else, it would at least get him to shut up about the 'lack of Austrian representation' for about five minutes before he scarfed it down.

The vendor was all smiles and cheers as you took the pretzels from him and passed one to König.

"Oh these were made fresh," he muttered as he took a big bite.

You nibbled on one and looked around happily. The world was abuzz with joyous shouts, the smell of fried food and blue skies bending above. Carnival rides were whirling in the distance in a clamour of bright lights and whirling machinery that made you dizzy just looking at it. Meanwhile, steins of beers were being carried around by cheery women with bright wide smiles.

"Are you looking for a beer?" you asked as you sat down at a wood picnic table.

"Or some sausages," König looked around hopefully, "there's bound to be some good ones."

"I think I see a vendor just over-"

"On my way!"

You watched the retreating form of your boyfriend as he bounded away, all social anxiety temporarily forgotten in his sheer joy. You never thought you'd see the day that König actually looked happy when out in public. In fact, he seemed delighted despite the cacophony of sights and sounds all around you.

You could see some pigs rolling on some straw in the shade in the distance. A couple of children carrying streamers pranced by as their nervous parents chased after them through the crowd.

When König came back, he had a sausage in each hand and was balancing a third in his arms.

"You got one for me?" you asked.

"Nein," König shoved the bun into his mouth, chewed, then without swallowing said, "you can get your own."

"Rude," you muttered more to yourself than anyone else.

"If you fill up on sausage you won't get a chance to have any of the good cheeses," König swallowed and thumped his chest, "fuck I need a beer. I'll be back."

Once again, König left you to your own devices. You managed to grab a few good pictures before he was by your side again, this time handing you a drink.

"So you do remember I exist," you laughed as you took a sip.

König belched and rubbed his stomach as he sat down, "Excuse me, Of course I remember! I just didn't think you wanted a sausage. Did you?"

You looked down at your half-finished pretzel, "Maybe later."

"We can get one later," König agreed before raising his bask to tip the rest of his beer back in three quick swigs.

"Jesus König that's like, an entire pint there," you muttered as he slammed the glass down on the table.

"Don't worry," König laughed, "I still have room for more!"

"You always have room for more," you grumbled as he finished the last of the second sausage.

"Well, maybe don't give me such good food," König snorted and took another bite, "anyways, today is a day to celebrate! Let's have fun!"

You didn't want to tell him that most of the fun you were having came from seeing what he'd do next.

"Why don't we do some carnival games?" you offered, "unless you're too drunk."

"I've only had three beers," König shook his head with a scoff.

"Correction: You've had three pints of beer."

"So?" König finished off the sausage and held out a hand to help you stand, "now come on, there's a booth I see over there. We need to go!"

You laughed as he tugged you along behind him. It wasn't often that you got to see König so happy out in public, but you never wanted to see the end of it.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Hello! Sorry if you don't take asks, feel free to just ignore this if that's the case (I'm still learning how to use Tumblr after lurking here for a while). Anyways, I wanted to reach out and say that your writing has been very helpful for me as I've tried to break an AI chatbot habit as I don't agree with the way the models are trained. Your König fanfics have been really fun to read and helped me stop relying on chatbots so much. I look forward to your updates. Thanks again! <3

I ABSOLUTELY take asks! I love them so much! I genuinely cannot stress how much I like taking asks. I'm sorry it's been a couple of days, but I only just got a chance to respond now. So, I'll say this:

Thank you SO much! I'm so happy I can help you out! Chatbots are... Well, I have mixed feelings. I know some people like them, and to each their own. However, for the environment and for fanfiction, I do recommend finding an author OR making your own content! It's very satisfying and exciting to see worlds come to life before your very eyes! I always enjoy it.

So thus, thank you so much for moving away from chatbots! You're doing amazing work! As someone with an addictive personality, I know how incredibly hard it is to move on from the thing that gives dopamine. It's a lot harder than people make it out to be. You're doing a great job, and I'm so proud of your progress! Keep going! I believe in you!