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gremlingottoosilly · 2 years ago

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Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again?

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad.

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good.

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi?

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous.

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there.

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know.

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger.

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage.

— You’re too young to stop believing in it.

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir.

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him.

— Could you two please stop fucking each other?

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space.

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement.

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time.

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge.

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention.

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention.

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something.

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son.

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing.

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends.

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore.

— I’m not in the mood right now.

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul.

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other.

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did.

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts.

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife.

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you.

— I’m not dumb!

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly.

— You just call me a different type of dumb.

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter.

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this.

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street.

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week.

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir?

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him.

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good.

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer.

— I wanted to study.

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house.

— You mean you and your ex’s house.

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again.

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again.

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying.

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions.

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s.

— Why you need a job?

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money.

— You have me.

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir.

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost.

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone.

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later.

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #fem reader #konig cod #konig x you

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cece693 · 1 month ago

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Okay, so this was sent as a request, but I didn't know if the person wanted to make their ask public, so I changed it to anon. Request is as follows:

Going to silently ask for a male reader x Enoch🤭 Readers peculiarity is Shadow Manipulation. (Can absorb shadows, manipulate shadows and such) he’s from the 1700 in Germany and he’s 17. when he speaks it’s thick with a German accent. And it’s hard for the other kids to understand what he says (kind of like Enoch lol) I don’t really know a scenario rn but maybe when Miss Peregrine introduces the reader to the other kids and Enoch falls head over heels?😭

Miss Peregrine waits for the clock to strike three before opening the study doors. The children mass in the corridor, fidgeting with the kind of practiced curiosity that comes from meeting newcomers every decade or so. Enoch lingers at the back, arms folded, face arranged in its usual half-bored sneer. New arrivals seldom interest him—at least that’s what he tells himself.

Then he steps through.

The boy can’t be older than seventeen, yet something about him feels antique—a burnished look, like a portrait come walking. His clothes are plain black breeches tucked into high boots, white shirt fastened at the throat by a silver clasp worked into a crescent moon. But it’s the shadows that prick Enoch’s attention: every lantern-flame in the hall gutters as he passes, their silhouettes stretching toward him as if greeting a lost king.

"Children," Miss Peregrine began calmly, gesturing toward the newcomer, "this is Y/N. He will be staying with us from now on. Do be patient, he's from Germany so his English is limited."

"Guten Tag," Y/N murmured, voice deep, thickly accented, each syllable drawn out and wrapped in his Germanic roots. Immediately, confused glances exchanged among the children.

"What did he say?" Olive whispered, floating slightly above the ground.

Enoch rolled his eyes dramatically. "He said hello, Olive. Honestly, listen better." The children turned to look at him bewildered, yet he paid no mind, opting to stare at the ymbryne.

Miss Peregrine wore a tiny smile. “Thank you, Enoch.” She refolded her gloved hands. “Y/N, would you like to show everyone your peculiarity? Only if you’re comfortable, of course.”

Y/N’s gaze swept the hallway—wide planks, honey-light, so many curious faces—and settled on the long patch of darkness beneath the staircase. He nodded once. “Ja. I can…show.”

He stepped into the gloom. At his heels the shadows lifted, as if the house itself exhaled ink. Murmurs rippled through the children—Hugh’s bees chimed like distant bells in his stomach, Olive drifted higher on a gasp.

Y/N drew a measured breath. The darkness pooled to his palm, thick and shimmering, until it formed a sleek lupine shape. A shadow-wolf—eyes twin coals, muzzle flickering between substance and smoke. It padded forward, silent, and pressed its phantom head beneath Olive’s dangling foot. Startled, she laughed and used the makeshift step to ease herself down until her shoes kissed the floorboards.

“Danke,” Y/N said softly to the wolf; the creature wagged a liquid tail before melting back into his sleeve. As the light restored itself, every lantern in the hall burned a fraction brighter, like candles after mass.

Enoch had gone very still. He prided himself on looking unimpressed at just about anything, but now his heart ricocheted against his ribs. Marvelous didn’t begin to cover it.

Emma whistled, flames twirling at her fingertips. “That beats fire tricks, I’ll grant you.”

Bronwyn clasped her big hands together with a happy crack. “Fancy doing that again at croquet later? Could use a hound on our team.”

Y/N worried his lower lip, searching for words. “I…sorry. English is… schwer?”

Enoch pushed off the wall with a sigh that tried—and failed—to sound exasperated. “He means difficult, Bronwyn. Schwer is ‘difficult.’ Now stop gawping before he thinks we’re savages.”

Miss Peregrine arched one dark brow, but the small curve at the edge of her mouth betrayed her amusement. “Thank you again, Enoch. Now, if our newest arrival is willing, I believe tea and cherry-almond cake await in the conservatory.”

Olive’s ribbon-pinned shoes clanked as she drifted forward. “Come on then! I’ll float you there myself if you’re too lost.”

A half dozen voices chimed agreement, but Y/N’s gaze flicked instinctively to Enoch—as though the room had already decided the doll-maker was his interpreter, his anchor. Enoch pretended not to feel the heat of that attention, or the warm-prickle of pride that came with it. He jerked his chin toward the archway. “This way, Shadow-Boy.”

TIME SKIP

Over the next few months, Enoch found himself increasingly annoyed. Not at Y/N himself—but at the other children, who constantly surrounded the German boy. Horace begged Y/N to demonstrate his powers, Emma cheerfully engaged him in conversation despite their language barrier, and even Bronwyn seemed taken with his mysterious presence.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Enoch muttered, watching Y/N from afar as Hugh buzzed around excitedly. His chest tightened with irritation every time another person stole Y/N's attention.

Olive, noticing Enoch's brooding stare, hovered beside him with a knowing grin. "You look miserable. Jealous, are we?"

"Shut it, Olive," Enoch growled, cheeks darkening slightly. "I'm simply concerned that he’s going to pick up all your rotten habits,” Though the protest sounded thin even to his own ears.

Olive’s grin widened. “He’ll start floating and wearing ribbons, will he? Face it, doll-boy—you have a crush on him.”

“Do not.” “You absolutely do.” “Olive, I raise corpses for fun. You think I’m sentimental?”

Olive drifted upward until they were eye-to-eye. “I think you stitched a poppet with a moon-silver clasp exactly like the one on his collar. I saw it under your pillow.”

Enoch’s retort strangled itself; his ears burned so hot he could have animated a furnace. Before Olive could gloat further, a fresh ripple of laughter drew their attention. Y/N stood beneath the willow, shadows fanned like peacock feathers while Horace examined the shapes through a lorgnette, uttering marvellous every five seconds. Emma punctuated each compliment with a miniature firework. Hugh’s bees traced figure-eights overhead, spelling GUTEN MORGEN, which, given the time of day, made no sense at all—but Y/N applauded anyway, delighted.

Enoch clenched his jaw until it clicked.

Olive bumped his shoulder. “You know, he keeps looking this way.”

True. Between every trick and halting bit of English, Y/N’s gaze flicked toward Enoch as if checking whether the only opinion that mattered was being offered. That should have soothed Enoch’s nerves; instead it made the jealousy taste metallic—sharp enough to cut.

“Go join him,” Olive urged. “Or keep sulking and turn green—your choice.”

“Fine,” he snapped, dusting off nonexistent lint. ��I’ll rescue him from that circus before someone asks him to juggle shadows.”

Enoch strode outside, boots crunching the scattered leaved deliberately loud. “Hope none of you are tiring him out. Miss P won’t be pleased if her new boarder keels over from party tricks.”

Horace adjusted his ascot, huffy. “We are merely appreciating his talent.”

“And I’m ensuring he still has enough left to spell go away next time you bother him.”

Emma smothered a snicker. Horace sniffed and flounced off, taking Hugh with him. Bronwyn ruffled Y/N’s hair—careful as a bear with a butterfly—then lumbered after them.

Silence settled beneath the willow, soft as dust.

Y/N tilted his head. “You…angry?”

“No,” Enoch lied, then folded his arms. “Maybe. Not with you. They’re like magpies—flash something shiny, and they swarm.”

Y/N’s shadows curled protectively around his ankles, mirroring his uncertainty. “I do not mind swarm,” he said, accent coloring the vowels. “Is good to have…friends.”

“Friends,” Enoch echoed flatly. The word thudded where it shouldn’t have.

Y/N took a cautious step closer. “But…you are wichtig.” He frowned, searching. “Wichtig…more than friends?”

“Significant?” Enoch offered, throat sudden dry.

“Ja. Significant.” Y/N’s smile was tentative but luminous. “You teach me words. You listen to me even when I speak German. And you give me this.” He reached into his coat pocket and produced the very moon-clasp poppet Olive had mentioned, the tiny stitches immaculate. “Found under pillow. Is…me?”

Enoch’s heart slammed. “It was a prototype. Not finished.”

“It is Schön.” Y/N stroked the porcelain cheek; shadows bled from his fingertips, tinting the doll’s eyes midnight. “Looks like yours and mine together.” He cradled it as reverently as a relic. “Danke, Enoch.”

The anger drained away, leaving him raw. “I didn’t want everyone pawing at you,” he admitted, voice low. “Every time they laugh with you it feels like—like they’re nicking pieces I haven’t had the courage to claim.”

Y/N blinked, parsing. Then: “You wish…to claim?” His cheeks pinked. “Like, hold?”

“Like hold,” Enoch confirmed, barely louder than wind in grass.

Slowly—giving Enoch every chance to retreat—Y/N closed the remaining distance. The shadows rose up behind him, forming a charcoal cloak that arched around them both, dimming the world to pewter hush. Within that cocoon, Y/N took Enoch’s hand and pressed the poppet between their palms.

“I keep?” he murmured. “It’s yours,” Enoch managed.

Y/N’s fingers laced through his. “Then I belong here.” He tapped Enoch’s sternum, precisely over the frantic drum of his heart. “Not swarm.”

A shaky laugh escaped Enoch—half relief, half disbelief. “Blimey, you’re direct.”

“Blimey…good?”

“Blimey perfect.”

At that, Y/N leaned in. It was awkward—the height difference, the uncertain angle—but the tentative brush of his lips against Enoch’s felt like a spell cast true. Shadows threaded through Enoch’s hair, cool and affectionate, while deep inside his chest something stitched itself whole.

When they parted, Y/N whispered, “No more jealous.”

Enoch smirked, but the edge had dulled to fondness. “Maybe a little jealous. Keeps the magpies at bay.”

“I will learn word for that.” Y/N pressed forehead to Enoch’s. “But first, learn…kiss again?”

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lilybug-02 · 8 months ago

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Hi, I'm making music based on some of my favorite creator's works, and I really like your Hollow Knight comic, so I made Dewi a boss battle! (I was thinking of human Dewi in my head when I was writing, but I had trouble drawing him, so I drew his bug form instead.)

I tried to make it sound sort of like Hollow Knight music, but this is my first time writing a boss battle, and also I don't know what a 16th note is. Oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Oh my goodness!!!! This is amazing!!! nfk;ja;skdfaksdfk; arsdfkj!!!

Your art for this is fantastic!I love the detail you put into the shading. And the color matches so well with the esthetic! (and no worries, drawing humans is hard). Bee Dewi is adorable.

And that Music! Haha, It feels so relaxed. Gives a peaceful vibe to a boss battle which I love lol

Thank you again!!!!

#sorry for the late response.#ask stuff #dewi's adventures in hollow knight #dewi #fanart!!!

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velvet-paradox · 1 year ago

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Redeemed

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: While helping your boyfriend do a little spring cleaning, you come across his old gear. You've seen him wear it in pictures but to have him put it on for you… Length: Medium/Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, established relationship, kinda' sorta' roleplay even though is himself, degradation, name calling, fingering, pussy slapping, edging, p in v (unprotected, wrap it up!), creampie, oral (f & m receiving), detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

beg me for it (bitte mich darum) my love (meine liebe) my honey bee (meine honigbiene)

"What about this one?" You call out, shifting a rather large cardboard box away from the dusty window. You sneezed for the tenth time. Helping your boyfriend clean out his attic before the fall came. You'd gone through old clothes, holey jackets, boxes of books, notepads dated from before you two had started seeing one another.

"Nein. That is just some old paperwork, put it over there by the others." König answered, tearing open a box of his own at the opposite side of the attic. It wasn't a big space, it did not accommodate his size at all as he was crouched down in a squat. His ass looked great, you thought as he was none the wiser of your ogling.

You moved another box and saw a big, beige duffel bag high on a shelf. It called out to you.

TAKE ME DOWN! TAKE ME DOWN!

"What's this?" You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you reached up on your tip toes, hands reaching out for the thick black straps.

"What's what, meine honigbiene?"

"Whatever it is it's fuckin' heavy! Ow!" The bag came down, hard against your chest making you topple over into yet another cloud of dust. Like clouds of it making the air up here a little thicker than need be.

"Be careful, my dear." König said, spinning on his feet. He coughed and you heard him walk over to you. He wasn't a gentle stepping giant by any means. "Oh liebe don't look in there-"

You unzipped the bag just as he reached you, his hands on top of yours to stop you but it was too late. You saw a helmet that resembled a spider, there was another mask that looked similar to Simon's, along with an array of secured weapons and flares. "This is your old gear."

"Ja." König hummed behind you, pulling out a foreign piece of material to you, completely nostalgic for the man. You'd seen it in pictures around his home but to see these key pieces of his past self was something different. Vulnerable. König mused over a pack of unopened flares, a few ammunition magazines. "I haven't put on the mask in so long… there was a time, believe it or not that I never took it off. Only to wash it of course but, this was my face. This was König."

"Will you put it on for me?" An intrusive thought popped in your head like champagne bubbles. You bit your lip before your brain could short circuit that you would ask such a thing. You knew he was an operator, high ranking, cultured and experienced. He'd mention some things in passing that were a bit on the grim and dark side. He'd dealt with the trauma and guilt, what he had to do to survive, to make it out and up rank. To be praised for his hard work and dedication.

"The mask? Certainly not. That version of me is over, I couldn't begin to tell you what that man has done, who I'd become if I were to put this thing back on. 's not for your pretty little eyes, honigbiene."

"Bitte? Just once. For me."

"Oh no, don't start with talking my language to get what you want."

König held your face with the other hand, shoving his mask back into the duffel, he kissed your head. "And don't pout, you're face will remain that way."

….

You heard him before you saw him. Sure he wore boots, custom Doc Marten's to be exact, so hearing him clunk around wasn't out of the ordinary but- he sounded heavy. The sounds of his outfit, the light SWISH of his standard issue pants got closer, he was getting closer.

You covered your face with your hands. You had to. It felt like instinct. Once König was in the living room with you, the air felt different. Your skin felt hot even though a chill went down your spine once he stopped walking. You heard his gloves creak. He cleared his throat and tapped his foot.

The only coherent thought once your eyes adjusted to the sight before you, was a gentle "Oh."

Your lover was… fucking massive. The way his shoulders rounded, he stood a little taller, a little prouder. That glitter in his blue eyes let you in on the smirk that laid hidden behind his black and red streaked mask. Especially with his hands behind his back, standing at attention.

Helmet, vest, forearm plates, shin guards, enough cargo pockets to put damn near anything but the kitchen fucking sink.

"Do like what you see, my dear? Your legs are practically falling open for me."

He wasn't lying.

Sat on the couch, your legs moved apart at the sight of him covered head to toe in tactical gear.

"What do you think?" König asked, rocking in place. His waist looked good enough to eat. The urge to bite him all over was overwhelming and you'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't a major turn on, or that you were in fact getting excited. The damage, the chaos, the bloodshed he'd left behind while wearing his tactical gear made you itchy.

"It's different. I mean, I've seen pictures of you in your gear but. Woah. It makes you look… bigger." You spoke with your hands as he nodded slowly.

König moved one of his hands from behind his back, made a fist then motioned for you to come towards him. You did so on shaky legs and tiny feet. He towered over you on a usual day, he's a behemoth of a man and yet when you looked up and up at him, you couldn't help but feel like a bug. An insect about to be squashed.

"You wanted to see me in my uniform," König softly spoke, putting his gloved middle finger under your chin and gave it a light tap. "Here I am. Up close and personal."

You licked your lips. "What did you do in it?"

"Everything. Fight. Kill. Fuck."

Your eyes darkened. You weren't a jealous person and obviously he'd had a life before you much like you did yourself. But to hear him speak so clearly, so thorough, clinical even about the adventures he'd had in this attire had you weak.

"Will you fuck me in it?"

König snorted, his mask puffing out a little with his breath. "You're quite serious?"

You nodded.

"Then I am afraid mein liebe… it wouldn't be me that fucked you if that's what you're looking for."

You furrowed your eyebrows until his words started to make sense, stringing and looping together to make loose ends meet.

Of course you would be fucking your lover but… with him dressed in his old gear, old habits would die fucking hard. He'd be König, your König. But if you wanted him like this… you would be fucking KorTac's colonel.

….

König grabbed you by the waist and pushed you up against the wall behind him, grabbing both of your hands in just one of his, the rubber pads of his gloves marking up your skin. You gasped. He chuckled and dug around in one of those cargo pockets on the front of his vest, without breaking eye contact he pulled out a pair of zip tie handcuffs.

They dug into your flesh, pinching just enough to air on the uncomfortable side, in front of you before König pushed himself up against your back, mentioning that if you were to refer to him as anything other than sir or colonel you were to be sorely punished. Spanked within reason. Broken with trust. Fingered without mercy in any hole of his choosing. You clenched around nothing.

You felt the foreign pockets of his vest dug into your shoulders, he circled his hips against your rear with a low hum that vibrated through you.

"You've got yourself a safeword, have you?"

"Mhmmm. Pocket knife."

"Good girl." König praised in your ear, grunting when he slipped his hand between your thighs, clicking his teeth when you wiggled back against him. "Spoke too soon, apparently. You're radiating heat, honigbiene. Are you wet? Should I inspect?"

"Bitte."

König snarled and grabbed your leggings and yanked them down to your ankles, he moaned when he realized you weren't wearing anything else underneath. He moved his hand to the front of your face.

"Take it off."

"How?"

"Bite down."

You whined and took his glove between your teeth, he pulled his hand out and cupped your sex. You writhed in his hold. His hand was so hot and so big and it felt so damn good between your legs.

"Wet already? What a little horny thing you are, my dear. You like this don't you? Pinned down, held in place, vulnerable in the best way possible. "Give in to me, biene. Give in to your colonel."

You yelped when his fingers, testing your leaky entrance for awhile, coating the pads and finally breached your hole, splitting your folds apart to get to the softest, spongiest, spot inside you.

"Well well…" König pressed his face to the back of your head. "What have we here? Is this turning you on, biene? The way your sweet little pussy keeps sucking in my finger is giving me the answer your voice cannot."

"Please!"

"Please what, my dear?" He asked, making his palm flat, your clit throbbed and ached to be touched, the friction of it hitting once more as he fingered you deeper, his thick thumb tapping the hood of it gently which each thrust.

Suspended between bliss and absolute torture, your body betraying you by twisting and rocking back and forth, pushing yourself back against his ministrations with your hands splayed on the wall in front of you.

"I need more."

"More what?"

"More of you. Inside me, König."

He tsked and removed his hand completely, making you hang your head in shame.

"Failure so soon, pet? Gonna' have to work on that," his heavy presence and warmth left you too suddenly, he peeled himself off your back and turned you around once more, eyeing your lower half. "You can be obedient, can't you honigbiene? Desperate to be a good girl for me. Show me your dedication."

König thudded his big boots over to the couch, plopping down with too much weight the whole scooted back at least an inch, legs splayed out wide, hands on his thighs. His still gloved one patted an inner thigh.

It proved to be difficult to shimmy over to him with your leggings around your ankles, stuck to your crew socks. You were careful not to slip on the silky material. It felt hamulating to shuffle over like that but also the way you needed to keep your knees together, your thighs together, rubbed your sex deliciously.

Once in front of him, he rubbed the warm skin of your outer thighs, then between them spreading your legs apart until the fabric of your legging tugged and pulled at your feet.

When his gloved hand slapped against your cunt you jumped. "Bad girl. What two names we're you given to address me?"

You whined, locking your fingers together, desperately wanting to close your legs. You were already a pulsating mess but this… oh this was something else.

"Tell me!"

"Sir." You jumped.

"And?"

"Colonel."

"Good job, biene. And what do you just call me?"

"Kön--König."

Another slap to your center made you shut your eyes and bite your lip.

"Did I not promise punishment if you did not behave."

"I forgot!" You whined and twitched when he switched hands, teasing your entrance once more, just pressing, not intruding, just letting you know he could pierce through you. " 'm sorry, sir. I won't forget again."

"Hmph. We'll see about that."

König is a very calculated man, knew how to draw you i like a moth to a light source. He grabbed you, pushing you down to the couch with a bounce and grabbed at your legs, kneeling down in front of you. He pulled off his vest to reveal the tightest looking thermal shirt, it made his muscles look huge, he could choke you out in seconds with how they moved. And that made you wet and weak to the manhandling of your body. His hands pulled at the back of your knees, just your lower back on the cushion now and he hooked your legs over his massive shoulders.

"Show me your pussy, baby. Go on, open her on up for me now." With your bound hands and aching sex, the way his eyes fixated as you spread your legs.

"Good job, pretty. So wet. I think I just saw her clench, are we needy biene?"

"Yes sir! I am I am so fucking needy for you."

"Good." König moaned as he lifted up the hem of his mask, licked his fingers and spread your folds before diving in to worship you.

….

He had you where he wanted you, tettering on the edge of the couch cushions, lost in pleasure as König ate you out, tongue fucked your cunt, spat on your asshole until you screamed for mercy. Grabbing at his hair. The hot and cold juxtaposition from his tongue ring brought your orgasm closer and closer.

"Colonel bitte, I can't… I can't take much more." You sobbed and bucked your hips up into his face, he chuckled darkly, smacking his lips and moaning as you felt the bridge and tip of his nose bump up against your clit.

"You're gonna' take a lot more once you cum," König groaned, rubbing all of his fingers, rather quickly over your pussy, making you feral. "Oh biene, can you hear that? You're fucking pussy is juicing up just right, you're gonna' cum aren't you, princess? Cum all over my fingers or my face, you've redeemed yourself so far."

"I um I--"

"Keep them open now. Come on pretty thing, I am giving you an option and if you don't use your words I'll just-"

"I'm so close, please!" You whine, tilting your head just right to watch in awe and bliss how fast you were losing control, your legs jerked against the sides of his head.

"That's not what I asked, sweetie."

"Fingers! Please colonel, fuck. Fing-ger fuck me, make me cum please." You sounded pathetic but it was just too much, his mouth, his fingers, his words and sprinkles of praise lit you up like the Fourth of Fucking July.

He quickly switched tactics, as he usually did to keep you on your toes. On edge for what he'd planned for you two next. But this complete dominance, his control, left you dizzy.

Instead of curling his two fingers deep into your core, hollowing you out to make room for his thick cock, he turned his wrist, palm down as he rocked them into that way. Magnificent.

You squirmed and squealed and shouted out profanities in English and a few you'd learned from your lover, like you were speaking in tongues.

Almost there, almost there, almosttherealmosttherealmostthere…

Then-- there was nothing.

No fingers, no mouth, no tongue!

You opened your eyes to see König standing above you, taking off his belt, unzipping his pants.

"I was so close."

"I know," he tilted his head and took his cock out. You clenched around nothing, licking your lips when he moved the mask just out of the way for him to spit on his own dick. You loved watching him do that. The first time you two had sex, he spat on it while staring at you, a smirk on his handsome and scarred face. It was hot then and even hotter every time after.

His boots pounded against the floor, jerking himself off as he got closer, slapping his cock against your pussy, your arousal making the stickiest noises to fill his living room.

"Colonel!"

"What a needy little slut. Just a little bit foreplay and you're a fucking mess, look at you. You think you deserve to cum, have you earned it?"

"You said I, you said I was gonna' be redeemed." Tears filled your eyes as he slapped your inner thighs, one after the other. He then dragged his nails down your heated flesh.

"Changed my mind, now sit up and open your fucking mouth." König helped you by placing his hard and cold shin guards against your knees and helped to push up. "Lift up your shirt too."

With the way your hands were bound, thumb to thumb in a praying motion, proved to be a little too difficult and König was getting impatient. So he grunted and grabbed your shirt, yanked it up, your tits spilling out from your bra and on a whim, it seemed, he just hooked it around the back of your head. On perverse display.

"That's much better. You look like a fuck toy, is that what you are, baby? Just a hole to fill, keep my fat cock safe and warm. No teeth. Stick out your tongue." König barked at you. Cursing something in German soon after you obliged, followed orders.

He plopped his cock against your tongue, you could faintly taste yourself on it, mixed with the beads of pre-cum. Delicious. You moaned around his length, his hand on the back of your skull, which he could easily squeeze and crush it in an instant, and had you bobbing, and gagging and drooling over it.

König made the dirtiest sound, low in his throat as he face fucked you, every time you pleaded with your eyes for a little release he'd slap your cunt again. Over and over until it was sore. Your clit aching and throbbing for some attention, your pussy reacting to his purposeful ministrations to make you as messy and sticky as possible.

Your König did not treat you this way, at all. In fact he made love you almost every night, claiming feeling you there, on him, in you felt safe. Comfortable. You were home. So this filthy pace, his thumb pressing down on your clit, that twisted look in his eyes as he watched you slobber all over him, down your neck and over your chest was a sign of delight.

"What a good little throat slut you're being honig, just delightful! You suck me down like you were made for it, were sweetheart, were you made to suck this cock so well?" He chuckled and finally pulled off when you nodded dumbly.

"Good girl, now then," he sighed and took a step back, a heavy string of saliva connected your swollen lips to the crown of his cock. "Do you prefer to look at me while I take you, or do you prefer to be hollowed out on your hands and knees?"

"Both." Came out of your mouth like you'd had one too many, trying to catch your breath.

"Both? You are greedy. Come here now! Hold still." He grabbed your hands and lifted you to your feet like it was nothing, and held them up above your head, your wrists screaming. "Keep them there."

He tore off the other glove and pulled down the cups of your bra, uncaring that your spit would be all over his palms as he kneaded your breasts, thumbed over your nipples.

"Oh colonel, please sir, that feels really good. Keep going."

"Sounds like it, you are so… breathy." You could hear the smile in his voice, his voice low and swirled with lust. "I love these tits so much, I just…"

He was on his knees faster than you could blink, for a man of his stature he's quite swift. He lifted his mask once more and mouthed of your breasts, groaning and growling and holding you close under the ribs, pulling at you to get further into his mouth. "I love you."

"Th-thank you sir. I love you too." You tried to remain calm but this fucking behemoth was working you over and for fucks sake would he fuck you already. You could another flood of desire and wetness slip through your folds as he licked and sucked. That damn tongue ring was worth the investment.

He pulled off your left nipple with a light pop and got back up to his feet and spun you around, you fell over on to the couch the long way, scrambling with your hands to push yourself up and into position, only to have your lover mold you to his liking. Whacking your thigh and hoisting up your hips against his groin.

"Now pretty thing… say that again for me, say it back to König."

"Oh fuck."

You did eventually find your voice after being rocked back and forth, his cock slipping in between your legs, gathering more and more of your arousal, the head of his cock bumping into your clit on purpose. He pushed into you slow for the first inch, feeling your walls spasm made him pause for a moment before you gave the go ahead with a pat to knee underneath you. He split you open, humming at the sounds coming from you, wiggling and trying to fit him all the way in at this angle. He pulled all the way out, spread your cheeks and spat once more before easing his way back in. Only to do it again and again, moaning how perfect you looked all gaped and wanting.

He fucked you hard and fast after that, the cushions feeling scratchy against your sensitive skin, your heated and exposed chest and stomach. The jangle of his belt knocking against your hip, the crotch of his pants getting soaked with your juices. He's never been this harsh before!

"Can't say anything, can you biene? Good. You don't need to fuckin' talk, just give and take. Feels so good."

"You always f-feel good, sir."

"Good answer!" was followed by a hard spank as he pounded into you even more before stopping all together to circle his hips and rub against that spongy bit that made you holler.

"Sir! Can I cum now? Bitte, I've been so good. Please?" You gasped into the cushions, your face wet with drool from all your whining and moaning. Your shoulder pushed deeper into it.

"Ja, ja! Cum on my cock, honigbiene. Cum for König."

You instantly came.

And came some more.

He couldn't wait for you to face him, see him in all his glory. So he gripped your shoulder, fisted your shirt for extra leverage and rolled you onto your back. He flicked one of your nipples harshly, enjoying the reaction and sunk back into your cunt.

Unrelenting as König massaged you from the inside out, letting you push and pull him back in like the tide. You arched and damn near fell off the couch but he caught you, cradling your hips, slipping off your socks and leggings, chucking them to the ground his his vest.

"Keep holding yourself open for me, honig. You're doing such a good job, what a good girl you turned out to be tonight hmmm?" König said while spitting on and stroking his cock again above you.

"Please sir, I'm begging you to fill me. I need to be stretched out." You cried, keeping your legs open was tedious at this point but necessary to get what you wanted.

"Bitte mich darum."

The wheels of your brain started to reel, you knew the words separately so… oh.

"I need it, colonel. I need you so badly, inside me sir, bitte bitte."

"Wanna' cum together, pretty girl. Show me that face."

He grunted when saw you smile and reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing him in.

"Do one thing for me honig, grab my cock, that's it," König moaned around your fist, feeling your juices on your palm as he shifted. "Can you guide me in, show me the way?"

You rubbed the head of him between your lips.

"That's it."

You helped him glide back home, in and out, safe within the confines of your pussy. His neck rolled under your hands and you moved up your pelvis. He sunk in deeper.

"Good girl now," he gulped, framing your head with his forearms, his chest lowering down to yours. "Fuck yourself with it."

"What?"

"You heard me. Fuck yourself with my cock, like you do with one of your toys."

In. Out. In. Out.

Just that simple action had you open mouthed and pouting at how good he felt. You already came hard once, another explosion was nearly the horizon the more you fit him in, the more fuller you felt. You used him as a fuck toy, crying out his title's, holding onto his mask.

"Kiss me."

König flipped the mask up enough to comply, he tasted salty and sweating. He fucked his tongue into your mouth to the rhythm of you fucking yourself. He grunted you name against your lips. You sucked on his tongue.

"I'm going to cum if you keep that up, honig."

"I want you to. I need you to. Cum inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You wanted me to beg for it so I am- oh fuck yeah. That's it."

"You fuck…"

You hurried your wrist, looking up at König, with his eyes trained on yours, thrusting into your hand to finish together.

….

König collapsed on top of you, panting and out of breathe and hot. Both in appearance and body heat. That black thermal of his came off at the lightning speed after he came. He hugged you tightly, resting his face in the crook of your neck as you stroke his back. Full, sated and complete.

"I did not hurt you, right? I was a little--"

"You were perfect," you breathed and kissed the top of his forehead, tracing the scars on his shoulder. "Can I ask you one thing, though?"

"Anything, honig." König said and looked at you with curious eyes.

"Can we do that again?" Tagging: @goblinmodetweeker @poohkie90 @satakingslime @wrenwrites @mochimycat @bowsforsienna

#könig x reader #konig x reader #konig x you #könig #konig cod #konig smut #konig imagine #konig fic #konig fanfiction #cod imagine

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skywritestudios · 27 days ago

Text

Hey guys it's Joy! I'm alive, I've been pretty silent on my socials and skipped last month's devlog because I did nothing in April outside of managing teams and communicating in servers. Thanks to my good ol' friend burnout.

General Recap Luckily, May was night and day comparatively. I had an exceptionally productive month.

I shipped out more merch, and generally just kept up with development. I was able to get over my burnout in the first week of May and find a pretty decent work life balance again. My job is thankfully very stress free and easy, as well as part time, so I have plenty of time off to work on dev stuff. Just as long as I schedule it out properly.

Nothing especially noteworthy happened outside of specific dev cycles, so let's just get into that.

Criminally Yours

Let's start with Criminally Yours this time! Specifically the development of "Criminally Yours Part 2" aka "Criminally Mine" set to release August 1st 2025.

Criminally Yours Part 2 is nearly complete totalling at 53k words at the time of writing this, I have 3 ½ scenes left, I'm halfway through scene 15/18 and I estimate the final word count to be anywhere from 60-65k. Totalling for 6/6.5 hours of gameplay.

It's quite large. I originally only anticipated for it to be 40k at most, to be double the length of Part 1 which is 23k for reference.

It'll probably be 3 times the original length almost, but hey, what can you do? Friends of mine have joked that it's basically Part 2 and 3 at that length, and I can't disagree with that. With an extra love interest alone I knew it was going to be sizeable, but not like this.

However, I am extremely proud of it so far. I honestly expected it to be better than Part 1 just from the outline, but it has only gotten better and better as time has gone on and I think it's going to make a lot of fans happy.

Our VA's have started recording their lines, our artists have plenty of sketched CG's and finalizing of sprites left, programming is in the works, and everything is moving very smoothly! (Not to jinx anything)

I have our wonderful community of "Criminals" (Criminally Yours fanbase) for that! It's been so motivating for me to share my progress, and hear theories, and receiving messages telling me how much they loved the first part and how much more excited they are for the 2nd!

I just want to say, y'all are not even a little ready for what's in store, it truly is the emotional rollercoaster I planned for it to be and more. Buckle up, we've got 2 more months. (I'm sure they will fly by). When I've finished drafting I'll be posting an announcement on the "Criminally Yours" Tumblr which you can follow here.

Speaking of Tumblr! I'd like to plug the Skywrite Studios tumblr page, there is not a tumblr for Meant to Bee Studios. To be honest, Skywrite is my replacement for Meant to Bee, but since M2B has a large following, it'll be awhile before I can stick to only Skywrite.

Anyway follow Skywrite Studios Tumblr here.

Fanart for Criminally Yours opening scene by iveu

The Prince's Keeper

Okay, I know it's been like 3 months of TPK is coming, it's coming guys I swear. But it really is. It's literally a finished game, the only thing missing is 2 finished CG's. We've had some setbacks in regards to our CG artist this time around. Luckily, we have remedied this and will have a release as soon as those CG's are finalized. I hope you still look forward to playing once it's out. Its something truly special and deserves attention. Unfortunately it fell into a bit of a dev hell.

CG concept for The Prince's Keeper- art by anonymous

My Sweet Fairy!

So unlike TPK. We've had a lot of luck with our artists and have made substantial progress, however, remember that burn out I'd mentioned earlier, well I was responsible for the last half of the script and completely dropped the ball. I had legit no motivation to work on the project or really anything at all. Even still, May I could have worked on it in time to get it done for Blossom Jam, however I have been hyper focused and stressed about Rectifier: In Bloom and Criminally Yours releases as they are commercial projects. Not free jam ones.

So I made a tough decision, we decided to roll development over to next year and to release for Blossom Jam 2026. It hurts me a little to have to, but it was just not the right time, and I don't want to spread myself too thin as it can harm the quality of all projects involved and harm myself which is something I've learned not to do if I can help it.

Next year will be here before we know it, and this way no team member who volunteered will be forced to crunch.

As my cofounder and best friend, Grey said. I'm not getting rid of the balls being juggled, just setting them to the side for when I can juggle them. (We love our silly analogies) but they're right. I'll happily pick up where we left off with fresh eyes and renewed spirit and produce the best project we can.

I hope you'll look forward to MSF! When it does eventually release, it's a super sweet romantic comedy with so much style and love put into it.

CG concept for My Sweet Fairy! Art by Zac/Jamkats

Starfallen: Strength

Strength's development like My Sweet Fairy! Is going very well, we have all sprites finished and finalized, and our OST. However, for the same reasons as before I had to roll this project over to next year as well, for next years Otome Jam.

I was very excited to release at least chapter 1/7 for the jam, but I think it's for the best to hold off so I can properly commission my artist for the project. I also would love to do an additional chapter for next year's release so 2/7.

Image: Verona from Starfallen: Strength- art by Pinachos

Rectifier: In Bloom Update

And last, but certainly not least, especially in my heart. We have the Rectifier: In Bloom update, as some of you may recall. Rectifier: In Bloom was my project for Otome Jam 2024, and what a time it was. Despite everything, I am still very proud of what I accomplished with a team of 4.

However, it's clear from the current build (which you can find in the March devlog btw- only for Windows users though), what's clear from that build is that it's fundamentally flawed. Not only was the game made in RPG Maker MV meaning it lacks all the standard quality of life features and functionalities of a standard Renpy VN. It also was programmed by me, and lol it's not great. The routes are pretty good, however we had very little time for playtesting, and by little time I mean practically none. Art is stunning, though I wished I could've had more, soundtrack is very hodgepodge, some being original tracks with others being royalty free.

And don't get me started on the GUI or lack thereof and the abhorrent game page for Itch.

The whole thing felt like it was being held together by tape and child's glue.

This time around, I wanted to polish the entire experience and add what was missing before.

So this time, we have a brand new game, completely reprogrammed into Renpy with all the QOL features that come with it, as well as a few more. A stunning GUI, more CG art, a fully edited script, as well as brand new extra scenes for each of the 7 routes! Extra tracks, and so much more!

We are set to release the update here on itch June 30th 2025 in time for Otome Jam 2025.

I want to say that despite all the flaws the original build came with, so many players were so supportive and saw something to love in the project despite its hang ups. This time around, I hope there is less focus on what holds the game back, and instead focus on all the little things that came together to make it so wonderful.

I've said it before, but Rectifier is my favorite project I've ever done. It has my whole heart and has so much content more to come, In Bloom was a way to sell people on the greater universe while still getting a complete experience. I think we accomplished that last year, but I want to cement it for those who liked it, and bring on new fans.

Next year, I want to work on the main game, and In Bloom's success will help fund it.

The game will be commercial with 1 free route for the demo- Greer's, and 6 that will have to be paid for. The price will be $5.99 USD. However, you can donate $5 now to my Kofi now as a way to "preorder" the game. You'll get a key as soon as the game releases if you donate.

Thanks to all those that have donated so generously and bought one of our stunning keychains! (Mainly the Percy ones, but HEY lol) I am eternally grateful, I advise that even if you played the game last year you consider doing so again when it releases, I promise it'll be worth your time.

CG concept for Rectifier: In Bloom Greer's Route art by Gisselle

Thank you so much for reading and, even more so, for following and supporting my work! If you want to keep up with what we do, following Skywrite Studios on Itch.io) , Bluesky, and even me on Twitch are the best ways to do so!

We've got a lot more exciting things happening coming in the next 3 months, so please stay tuned! This time next month, Rectifier: In Bloom we available to purchase and play!

#devlog #indie otome

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serpentface · 6 months ago

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WARDI TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

emense [ɛmɛnse] (eh-mehn-say)

Has meaning close to 'beloved' or 'darling'. "Ya emense" (meaning 'my beloved'/'my darling') is often contracted "y'mense".

bubuch [bubuk] (boo-bookh)

Somewhat of a nonsense word, basically ‘big-big’. Tends to either be used for small children or flirtatiously between adults (kind in between 'baby' and 'big boy' in functionality, though without gendered implications of the latter). Sometimes instead used as a form of intense condescension.

ya mache mes [ja mɑke mes] (yah mah-kay mace)

Functionally means "my other face", using the figurative word for face describing a concept of fundamental nature rather than anatomy. Very intense term of endearment, expresses the recipient as a core part of one's identity. Kind of equivalent to 'my other half' but not exclusively romantic.

ya tsitsima [ja ͡tsi͡tsimə] (yah tsee-tsee-muh)

Means "my blood". This term is used more broadly to denote familial relations, and is more of a term of endearment when used outside of actual biological relationship (calling your sister 'my blood' is just an intense way of saying 'my [relative]', calling a non-relative 'my blood' is VERY pointedly affectionate).

ya ungande [ja ungɑnde] (yah oon-gahn-day)

Often contracted to y'ungande, dead literally means "my liver" as in the organ. Ungande alone is also used as a food-based term of endearment, similar to 'honey' except instead with delicious organ meat.

anuje [ɑnudʒe] (ah-noo-jay)

Food based term of endearment, referring to a tree sap that is the most commonly used form of sweetener. Functionally identical to 'honey' in usage.

anu tlansekoma [ɑnu tlɑnsekoʊmə] (ah-noo tlahn-say-koh-muh)

This one actually means 'honey' (dead literally 'bee sweet'). Less common than 'anuje' as a term of endearment due to general cultural preference for anuje as a sweetener and the relative rarity of beekeeping.

inyagit [injəgit] (een-yah-geet)

Diminutive form of 'sun'. 'Ya inya' (my sun) occurs as well, but is less common.

y'mit agai [j'mit ɑgaɪ] (yuh-meet ah-gai)

Contraction of 'ya amit agai', 'my blue moon'. This specification is more common than a general 'my moon(s)' and is fairly loaded, given this particular moon is the site of the afterlife for the most honored dead. The phrase both suggests a sort of celestial beauty and a sense of being honored and finding rest in the recipient. This is a VERY intense and almost exclusively romantic term of endearment.

coutomara [koʊtoʊmɑrə] (koh-to-mahr-uh)

Means 'handsome' or 'beautiful', implies masculine attractiveness. (Dead literally closer to 'strong face'/'strong featured').

jaimara [dʒaɪmɑrə] (jaim-mahr-uh)

Means 'pretty' or 'beautiful', implies feminine attractiveness (dead literally close to 'beautiful face'/'beautifully featured').

katsuy [kɑtsui] [kaht-soo'ee]

Sexually charged description of physical attractiveness, basically calling someone 'sexy'.

ya katsuymen [ja kɑtsuimɛn] (yah koht-soo'ee-mehn)

Related and also sexually charged, close in meaning to 'my desire'.

at akmatse yachouy [ɑt ɑkmɑtse jɑtʃɔɪ] (aht ahk-mat-say yah-choi )

Sexually explicit term of endearment. The dead literal translation is "one who makes me flower". The word "flower" here is not as euphemistic in context and is rather the nicest sounding possible way to say "makes me cum (HARD)". Not considered vulgar, rather cloyingly romantic if anything.

gan(ne) ama [gɑn(e) ɑmə] (gah(-nay) ahm-uh)

Means 'bull'. When used affectionately, implies masculine strength. Usually used in conjunction with an adjective (ie 'handsome bull') or more teasingly gannit ama (little/baby bull))

jaimeti [dʒaɪmɛti] (jai-meh-tee)

Means 'gazelle' (the name for the animal itself is close in meaning to 'beautiful horn'), heavily associated with grace and beauty. Also tends to be used with adjectives ('lovely gazelle' 'handsome gazelle' etc) or with a diminutive.

ansiba [ɑnsibɑ] (ahn-see-bah) or ansibit [ɑnsibit] (ahn-see-beet)

Means 'duck' and 'duckling' respectively, specifically refers to the animal and implies cuteness. Ansibit is a very common term of endearment for children.

"Wannaukoma such datse anmo" [wɑnaʊkoʊmə suk dɑtse ɑnmoʊ] (wahn-now-koh-muh sookh daht-say ahn-moh)

Means 'an ant could swallow you', implies cuteness (ie the recipient is so small and tiny an Ant could devour them whole). Usually used on children, occasionally used on adult women (in a way that feels intensely patronizing to many). 'Datse' (you) may be replaced by the recipients surname or honorific in the rare case that someone would dare calling someone this without being on first name basis with them.

wannaukomit [wɑnaʊkoʊmit] (wahn-now-koh-meet)

Means 'little ant', a term of endearment that borders on insulting even to babies.

OTHER:

-it [it] (eet)

This is a diminutive modifier, which can be added to a name or other word/term of endearment to denote affection (can also be condescending). It lacks internal meaning in everyday use and is closer to the English -y or -ie (billy johnny rosie susie puppy kitty ducky etc).

hippe [hipɛ] (heep-peh) (some dialects drop the h sound entirely)

Means 'small' or 'little', can be spoken with other words/names as an affectionate diminutive.

Other epithets-

Various epithets used in the language are not exclusively used as terms of endearment, but can be contextually. Most commonly, this will be the -machen epithet of the recipients zodiac birthsign (particularly those considered auspicious). Someone with the lion birthsign could be respectfully and/or affectionately called 'odomachen', or VERY affectionately called 'ya odo' ('my lion'). There's also a good variety of poetic epithets that have worked their way into common language as affectionate compliments/descriptors- ie ganatoche (dead literally 'cow-eye', more prettily 'ox-eyed') is a complimentary descriptor for brown eyes, anaemaitsa (dead literally 'river-haired', more prettily 'flowing-haired') compliments wavy hair.

Given name basis-

In Wardi culture, full names are spoken with the family name preceding the given name. When respectfully speaking to a stranger, peer, or authority figure, you refer to them by their family name, title, and/or an honorific. Being on an accepted given name basis with someone is generally indicative of closeness and affection.

datse [dɑtse] (dah-tsay)

This is the word for "you". Similarly to the use of a given name, actually referring to someone as 'you' (rather than a surname, title, or honorific in place of the pronoun) expresses familiarity and intimacy.

#FUCK I LEFT A HUGE ERROR IN THERE OVERNIGHT . Okay #Even longer Wardi insult/vulgarity post coming someday #I can't actually put a lot of the linguistic Nuance in the writing because it doesn't 'translate' well in english. Especially the avoidance #of 'you' pronouns between unfamiliar company. Translating it ranges from mildly clunky to borderline unreadable #(Ie if you're asking a stranger's name in Wardi you'd use an honorific that is roughly equivalent to sir/ma'am if you're being #deferential or 'mister/miss' if not. 'What is mister's name?' sounds weird as fuck in english)#I could just include the in-universe honorifics instead which would avoid that but I'm really trying to avoid loading the text with #constructed language where it's not really necessary. I mean I'm not writing this to be a mega-approachable mass appeal story but #having to memorize a bunch of constructed terms can be a pain in the ass as a reader #(like there's still a lot in there but it's mostly 'untranslatable' words or very specific concepts)#And ultimately just saying 'you' and dropping the nuance of how 'you' is insulting when not used in close company is more efficient #I do have the last name/first name basis distinction in there textually though. A lot of the characters refer to each other #exclusively by surname

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