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itsagrimm · 1 year

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He Who Comes From Under The Water

Chapter 1 - The Promised Bride

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN sexism & patriarchy, mentions of death, suicidal thoughts, accidental attempted drowning, arranged marriage, choking on water, mention of a human bodies decomposition

eventual smut.

Beta-read by @sandinthemachine and @queenquazar. Thank you both so much for supporting me with obsessing over fairy tales.

Masterlist

“So, you are a king without a queen?” The old man asked while throwing his rod back into the water. “I suppose you require a queen then, eh?”

The king, considering the old fisherman’s words, slowly nodded. “I suppose I do. But where does one get such a fine lady?”

The water below the wooden landing was dark and dirty. Frogs croaked and fireflies danced over the green sludge and water lilies, lively and playful like the flecks of sunlight that reached the surface through the thick forest trees. A pretty scene on any other day.

Not this one.

Your tears had long stopped flowing into the water of the deep pond. Now, you sat there, your hand tangled in the water and your thoughts lost, dark and deep like the water below you.

A few days ago, your grandfather died. A kind old man who had spent the last years of his life close to the warm oven in winter and fishing in the pond in the summertime.

You remembered bedtime stories as a child with sweets sneaked into your hands. You remembered kind eyes who watched out for you as you grew from child to maiden. You remembered worry in those same eyes when your father died in the forest chopping wood, when your brothers perished in a tavern fire, your uncle and your mother succumbing to sickness, and - finally - your cousin breaking his neck after climbing a tree.

Yes, there was a lot of pain in your grandfathers’ eyes. But even more to worry.

The old man had been your last living relative, and most importantly your last male relative.

And now you as an unmarried village girl from a clearly cursed family, had no one who could inherit your family’s house and support you.

It was only time until the village would shun you and chase you away to get rid of all the bad around you.

That is if you were lucky.

You could try to make it into the city where you would live for a while as a beggar or, if you were hungry and deemed pretty enough, work as a whore.

In his last days, your grandfather tried to arrange for a husband, but no one wanted a cursed girl, and so his last words to you were to visit his favorite fishing spot.

You sighed.

Now, you sat on the same spot where your grandfather had sat, catching fish, and gazing over the water.

Maybe that’s what he had meant, you mused. It would be easier to end it all here and jump into the pond only to never return to the surface, drowning your sorrows and yourself with your grandfathers’ blessings. At least you would choose your fate with your chin proudly raised and your dignity untouched, floating into the abyss in your best billowing skirts from the funeral and no more tears left to cry.

As much as that was possible considering your situation.

“It’s a good place to leave this world,” you spoke out loud to taste how it felt on your tongue. It resonated, with the forest, the pond, with you.

“Indeed, it is.”

You twitched in surprise, heart jumping into your throat.

“Who is this?” you called over the water, glancing around for whoever lurked within the trees, hiding between the ferns.

A hand, big and wet, snatched yours from the water and pulled you in with one strong tug.

You wailed in surprise before crashing into the pond and swallowing the muddy green water, gurgling and gasping for air. Something seized you – strong and solid. Instinctually you kicked and punched it.

Was this it?

NO!

Fighting for your life you thrashed around, struggling and trying to free yourself to get back up to the surface. But whoever had you in a hold only dragged you down, carrying you further into the dark.

Your panicked eyes widened, trying to see who attacked you, trying to see anything.

It was dark. Only the dark, green water around you.

No, no, no, no!

Your lungs heaved for air as your heart drummed painfully in your hurting chest.

A second hand twisted around your throat and over your face. Instinctually, you opened your mouth and bit down.

The hands jolted back with a howl reverberating in the water, releasing you from the deadly weight dragging you down. Hungry for air and with burning lungs you swam up with frenzied strokes, pushing through the surface. Gasping and coughing you breathed, feeding your body with much needed air.

Quickly, you glanced around. No one there. Was this someone from the village trying to get rid of you? Did you manage to drag your attacker down with you? Or was it an animal in the water?

Before you could move, something grabbed you again and lifted you a good length out above the water.

You screamed and kicked again only to have your legs and hands fixated in an iron grip.

“Hold still!” A voice commanded you, foreign and vibrating close. You struggled on, thrashing your body against the solid form behind your back, unwilling to take any chances and die here without a fight.

“I said, hold still!” the grip around your limbs tightened, forcing you into stillness. “There, finally.”

Slowly, you turned your head. You were caught in the grip of a dark, green form, pressed against what must be its chest and stared at by sharp, watery eyes from a nearly obscured face from tangled wet hair and a beard.

Who is this? You thought to yourself, still heaving for air.

“Why are you fighting me?” the strange being said, “I’m here to take you in as my bride. Just like I have promised.”

You coughed again, a bit of swamp water and spit running down your chin, splashing onto the being’s arm.

“What?” you cried and with your head still spinning.

“What what?” The large figure snapped back, “The old man asked me to take you as my wife, yet you bite me? Is that how you want to treat your future husband? Do you want me to let you go? I have no need for an unwilling bride.”

You blinked, your body slowing down and your mind starting to think clearly again.

“You nearly drowned me. Let me go!” you cried out as much as your abused lungs allowed.

The figure blinked and instantly dropped you.

With a loud splash you crashed back into the water.

Your body seized and your mind raced, struggling to comprehend and move your body up.

You made a few weak swimming strokes, but it wasn’t enough to move your still tired and abused body up. Water started filling your lungs again and you were about to dr-

Something grabbed you and lifted you. Again.

“Woman!” the strange being cried out in annoyance, “What are you doing?”

You coughed, swamp water from your hair dripping over your face, disorienting you further as you gasped for air.

“Wait, maiden, do you need to breathe?” the strange creature asked, “Make up your mind! I was just trying to take you home, but you don’t want that. So I did like you asked but then you started sinking like a stone back into my waters again, heaving for air!”

You shivered, “Of course I need to breathe! All humans need air, idiot! What kind of question is that?!”

The creature groaned and grumbled, “The old man forgot to mention you are a human. I thought you might be a nymph or a bigger frog lady. Well, that’s just bad luck.”

You snorted, “Oh, I am sorry that me needing air is inconvenient for you! I nearly died down there in those muddy waters!”

“Hey, those are mighty fine waters of mine, thank you very much. Besides, the second time was not my fault.”

“Your waters?” you managed.

“Who else’s waters?” the figure deadpanned as you’d asked the most obvious question, swayed, and started moving towards the landing before carefully putting you onto the planks instead of holding you like a cat holds its naughty young, “Stay. Let me take a better look at you.”

You huffed and collapsed onto the planks out of the wet arms. It wasn’t like you could run anyway with your body still shaky and weak from the near drownings. Instead, you lifted your head for a better look at the stranger as they studied you.

The strange being from the waters was built like a man, but huge and larger than the tallest man you had ever seen. And it had the face close to a man too under all that unkempt hair and beard. But its facial features were fine, much too fine for any man who could lurk in the waters, and slightly too angular and with eyes a bit too lively and sharp to belong to a human as they studied you.

“Pretty girl.” the man from the water finally grumbled, “A bit unruly but pretty. At least that the old man did not lie about it.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “Thank you?”

The man shrugged, “Sorry for trying to drown you, apparently, I misunderstood your fragile physique.”

Fragile physique. He made it sound like an insult.

You took one final breath and summoned your strength to sit up to be on the same eye level as the large man from the water.

“Who are you?” you asked while trying to sort your wet skirts.

He snorted and waved slightly.

“I am König – king of all under the waters. Naturally. And you are the bride I was promised by the old fisherman a couple of days ago.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “Do you mean my grandfather? He used to fish here.”

The man shrugged, causing little waves around his shoulders where he emerged from the pond, “Most humans all look and smell the same to me, honestly. He was old for a human, liked to share stories, and left me a bit of tobacco as offerings sometimes. Smelled of smoked fish.”

Memories of your grandfather flashed before your eyes where he sat on the bench in front of the house, smoking his pipe in the late hours of the day, watching the sun go down.

Your mouth went dry.

Had he? Did he really?

Did he, in all his misery and worry, promised your hand to a strange man from the pond – a huge and wet and cold and clearly dangerous monster.

You went stiff from the overwhelming thought of being given away like that to a stranger - to a monster.

“Well, you are a human but I’m not in the habit of breaking promises and I'm sure you would make a good enough queen,” König continued, “Unless you object of course. There is little as unhonourable as having an unwilling bride, not even the slimiest toad approves of that.”

König babbled on about waters and ponds and marriage but your head was spinning. Your grandfather arranged for you to marry an algae cover man from the pond who's idea of home nearly killed you. The painful absurdity of it made you consider jumping right back into the water.

The cold, dark and green water.

The buzzing of the summer insects and splashing of the little waves drowned everything else out, turning louder and louder and louder and-

“Maid?”

His hand touched your arm, slowly shaking you.

You jolted up only to fall back.

“Yes?” you managed while leaning back, away from the large, clawed hand.

König’s watery eyes shifted around you as if searching for the right words.

“Listen, I don’t know too much about you humans, “ König started, “but you look cold and miserable. Maybe let’s worry about that first and talk about our wedding later.”

You blinked as the realization in all its form settled in.

Marrying him?

He would drown you in this pond, your flesh rotting and being picked by the fishes until nothing but a pile of bones were left.

Your bones, your lovely bones.

No! You had felt your life slip out of your fingers, the precious air bubbles escaping your lungs bare moments ago. Your cold hands wandered around your pained body intuitively, cradling yourself and trying to protect you from the outside world. You weren’t ready to give up on this life - to give on your body - and you would keep yourself safe and alive. This was your skin, your hair and flesh and bones! Death would come to you one day but you would be damned if it came today at the bottom of a dark pond and by the hands of a man.

“Yes, you are right. I should get dry,” you managed, sensing a chance to escape.

With wobbly legs, you tried to get up only to sway and stumble down on your knees. You needed to leave this place.

König tilted his head, watching you.

You tried again; your muscles too weak to carry you.

“Dear,” König said with slight amusement in his voice, “Your will is admirable, pretty girl. But I doubt it will be enough to get you home.”

“So? Will you drag me back into the pond and finish your work?” you replied, considering the option to crawl home and far away from the water

“Why would I do that, bride?”, he chuckled before turning serious again, looking at you with those blue more than clear inhuman eyes, “I have heard it’s not customary but allow me to get you to your home before you hurt yourself. You humans take so long to heal and an injured bride during the wedding would be a nuisance.”

Fearful you tried to move again.

He watched, waiting for your answer.

You considered his words. Your home. And he clearly wanted you in one piece at least before the wedding.

“No pond?”, you asked with an oh so thin weak voice.

“No pond.” He reassured, “That’s clearly not your element, my little bride-to-be.”

Slowly, you nodded.

Carefully, as if not to spook you, he scooped you back into his arms once again and pressed you to his chest.

You felt yourself going stiff again from fear, but before you could cry out, König stepped out of the water and away from the dreaded pond.

“See, no pond,” König spoke soothingly, and you felt his voice vibrate in his chest as he moved and swayed to avoid branches while shielding you with his shoulders, “I’m keeping my promises, my little bride.”

#there will be a mix of folkloric elements in this since i grew up with both eastern and central european traditions and can do what i want #this was written with a special amount of love for my fellow slavs and hinterland fairy tales collectors #könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig x you #call of duty #könig x oc #monster #monster x human #monster!könig

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sandinthemachine · 1 year

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Prelude

Part 1 of Deadly Nightshade, a Monster!König x Reader AU

Part 2

Masterlist

Here it is. Well, here's the beginning, at least

A massive thank you to @itsagrimm for feeding the folklore obsession, helping with research, helping me with ideas, and being an overall lovely human. They're writing their own monster story with König, and you should check it out. It's wonderful already.

Warnings: Perhaps a little thalassophobia. No gendered pronouns here but reader will use they/them and be afab. Nothing else yet, but many to come, so this series is 18+

Words: 2067

"Take my hand I know where to go To fractured fairyland Oh bare your soul" -Prelude, by Blackbriar

A gust of sea air buffets your face, throwing wisps of hair you’d so carefully secured flying across your forehead, flickering over your scrunched eyes. You peer over the edge of the hull, watching the water roll up along the side of the ferry, spreading out in wisps of foam dancing across the dark curtain of liquid like delicate stars, soon swallowed in a cloudy abyss. Some of the spray splashes up into the air, curling into mist that quickly disappears in the thick cloud of fog pressing in from all sides.

You take a deep breath, holding the salt in your lungs and letting the pricks of cold mist settle inside you as they weep through your clothes and sift through your hair, penetrating straight to the skin and further, down to your very bones.

You’re the only one left on deck now that the sun has been blotted out. The few other passengers huddle deep within the belly of the ship, cramped and stinking of sweat and engine oil.

You shiver. Better to be cold out here with the smell of seawater, watching the depths churn below you, hypnotizing in a way only the deadly can be.

The mournful bellow of the ship’s horn drags you away from the dark abyss, pulling your vision upwards to take in a sweeping light cutting through the air. The ship turns, waves slapping harder along its side, and as you make your way to the bow you make out the hulking mass of land looming out of the ether, the narrow strip of dock reaching out into the water like a dark limb to beckon you forward.

Once the ferry is fully docked you are the first to step out onto the stained and crooked planks, half expecting them to sink under you as a rotting log would, ever-so-gently tumbling you into the cavernous deep. Even so close to shore you cannot see the bottom through the inky waves, and you shiver to think of what could happen. You tighten your hands around the strap of your bag, resolving to stay inland, far away from shore.

The pebbly walkway shifts and slides under your feet, casting stones into the surrounding sand with each crunching footstep as you make your way forward down the path. You can see nothing for the fog but know there is only one path, one way to go.

As you travel on you begin to realize the reason you can’t see anything isn’t the fog after all. There is simply nothing to see. A rickety shack curls out of the mist on your left, sharp and washed out, fading into the background. The path turns away, and as you look right you see more smaller landings holding decrepit fishing boats whose riggings curl in on themselves like spiderwebs in the rain. The steady rumbling of waves echoes all around you, closing in like the rushing of your own blood through your ears.

Finally you come into the town. Or what here would be considered a town. The collection of squat buildings huddle into the earth, curling their walls around themselves to hide from the fog. There are no signs to tell you what the buildings are. Now that you think of it, you haven’t seen a single sign on the whole island. Nor even a word. The ferry had no name. The ferryman didn’t give you a word of direction. Even the fishing boats had no letters painted lovingly on their sides as so many mainland boats did. It felt like you were trudging through a half-formed dream full of just enough shapes and structures to know something was there while leaving out any detail that could help you understand what exactly that something was.

You stop in front of a large glass window, peering into a shadowy building to see rows of shelves. Filled with objects. Some kind of general store, it had to be.

Hoping they were open, you push your way inside. No bell hangs over the door, but the hinges creak and scream at the sudden movement, announcing your presence all the same.

“Hello?” you call softly, clenching your hands around your bag strap.

“What do you want?” The crotchety old voice drifts from your side, grating along itself as it scrapes down your spine. You turn to the source, taking in a tall old man bundled in a faded yellow raincoat that still glows sun-bright against the shadowy interior. His bushy grey eyebrows scrunch together, regarding you.

You force a smile, stepping forward to hold out your hand. “Hi, I’m-”

“The one taking over Monsen’s farm.” His eyes narrow at your extended hand, and you quickly snatch it back to your chest.

“Yep. That’s me.” You lick your lips, looking down at your feet.

“What do you want?”

“I was…hoping to get some food to bring back. You see, I just arrived and…”

“Fridge is in the back.” He turns abruptly, ambling over to an old armchair tucked in the corner, flopping down in it to turn the radio on.

“Right,” you say to yourself, backing away.

The 'fridge' has no light and is nearly picked clean, but you manage to scrounge up a glass milk jug and an unlabeled jar of what you think might be tomatoes. “Christ, I feel like I’ve stepped right into last century,” you mutter, but quickly scratch the thought when you find a completely normal box of pasta sitting in the back of one of the shelves.

Well, it’s enough to make some kind of meal, at least. Assuming the house actually had electricity like you were told it did.

You dump your meager pickings on a table next to the old man, pulling out what you think is enough money and placing it alongside them. Wordlessly he reaches under the chair, pulling out an old metal cash box and slowly counting out change for you.

As you stoop to pick your stuff back up, he sighs, pulling your attention to him.

“The ferry ships in supplies most Mondays. Market sets up outside on Sunday and Wednesday. Best stop by then.”

“Thank you, sir.” You smile, genuinely this time, and turn to leave.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Buy some earplugs next time you’re here. The whales come up to shore, right up where you are. Moans fit to wake the dead.”

You nod, furrowing your forehead, and make way for the door.

And behind you, the radio crackles, snatches of words flowing through.

“…calm seas and windless days…once again….ship gone…waters off Breaker’s Point.”

You shudder as the door creaks shut behind you.

You thank your past self for writing down the directions as you make your way to the house, picking through piles of rock and scraggly copses of trees. Soon you start counting the forks in the road and cursing whoever’s grand idea it was not to put up any street signs. If these rocky trails could even count as streets, that is. Still, you’ve been on hiking paths with better labels than this.

Fortunately the island is not too large. You figure you’ve been walking maybe half an hour by the time you pass a pair of quaint cottages, faded green with wraparound porches. Your neighbors, you knew. The only clear landmark of the entire walk, signaling your own place was just around the hill.

A shrill voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, hello!” A greying head pops out of one of the house's windows before disappearing, the door opening soon after as a tall and spindly woman trots out to greet you, lugging something large and round.

“You’re the new one!”

You suck your lips in between your teeth to stop a huff. “Yeah…”

“I thought I heard you were coming today! I’m Elisha. Oh! And I made you something.”

She triumphantly holds out the object in her hands, and you discover it’s a large pot wrapped in towels. You juggle the items in your hand, turning to shove them in your bag so you can take it from her.

She giggles at your confused look. “It’s soup! Full of meat and potatoes and all that goodness. It’ll keep you nice and warm. And you won’t have to cook for a bit.” She winks conspiratorially, accepting your thanks with a casual wave of her hand. “Ah, it’s nothing, really.”

You take a step back down the path, aiming to give her a farewell, but she doesn’t move, so you pause, awkwardly half-turned away from her.

She leans over, head tilting to the side as she examines your bag, and you find yourself shrinking away.

“Oh, dearie me!” She slaps a hand over her chest. “You don’t have anything on you, do you?”

“What-”

“One moment!”

She marches into her house, returning shortly with an old baseball bat that she balances atop the pot.

“Much better.” She steps back, grinning at her handiwork. You raise an eyebrow, and she huffs. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. This side of the island, we get all sorts of seabirds flying up at night. They like to howl and cry sometimes, sounds fit to make the devil himself turn tail and run.” She mimes a shiver. “I always feel much better having something near me. Anyway, you’d better get home. It gets cold after dark!”

With that, she whirls, marching back inside, the door slamming abruptly behind her.

“Right,” you murmur, gulping.

You are pleasantly surprised to find your cottage does, in fact, have working electricity, even if the lights are rather dim. You set to work warming some of the stew over the stove-top, resolving to make Elisha something later as a thank you, even if she scared you a bit. She was probably just trying to be funny.

As you work, you come across a note on the counter, written in a familiar delicate looping script.

Dearest Plover,

Ha, I still remember the day you got that nickname. You were, what was it, eight? Nine? Small with something to prove, running along the beach and jumping out of the way of every wave until the rest of us were all laughing with you. And around you, all the plovers danced on little legs just like yours. Your veins were full of seawater, your father said. We all found it so funny then.

Anyways, I’m getting away from myself, as always. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to greet you, I really had to rush. I know I’ve already been over everything with you, but I wanted to make sure I reminded you of the important bits. And again, my deepest, deepest thanks for agreeing to come take care of everything on such short notice. I really need it. And who knows, maybe a bit of time out here will help you, too.

Here I go again. Rambling, rambling, rambling. I’m as bad at writing as I am conversing, it seems. As I was saying, important things to remember are as follows:

Checking on the sheep every morning. They usually do just fine out there on the marsh grass, and they have a little shed to go in at night, but it’s always good to make sure.

Bring the sheep in for every storm. It’s hard to tell which ones will be big, so better safe than sorry. Keep your radio close, it will save your skin out here.

On that subject, there’s a good deal of swampland between here and the field where they graze. It’s treacherous ground, so always make sure to stay on the path along the western coast (I hope you still have the map I drew for you).

Sometimes a sheep will wander off into the swamp. It’s sad, I know, but you just have to let it happen. Don’t get yourself lost or stuck trying to find them, please. I’d rather lose a sheep or two if it means keeping you in one piece.

Try not to be out after dark. Storms can come on fast, and when the sky is already black it’s impossible to see the clouds getting darker.

With my sincerest love,

Your Favorite Uncle

P.S. I almost forgot. Make sure you lock the windows tightly before bed. We get the most dreadful winds here. They howl like a pack of dogs, it’ll make you jump right out of your skin. Best to draw the curtains closed, too. It gets awfully dark.

You smile sadly, tracing your fingers over the ink, and settle in for dinner.

Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who reads this. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. And don't worry, our beloved monster man will make his appearance soon, I'd just like to settle in to our setting first :) I'm thinking of drawing out a map as a little homage to all those good old books that always had nice maps in the front pages. Let me know if that's something you'd all be interested in.

A very different type of note: My town has an old stone obelisk that looks out over the fishing docks. On it is carved the names of every person we've lost at sea. No one remembers the oldest ones anymore, and the town records don't have anything on those ones. The names in this story are taken from the oldest ones on that obelisk. My own way of remembering them, I guess.

#könig #könig x reader #monster!könig #monster fucker #horror #ish?#more atmospheric I guess #folklore #blackbriar #slow burn

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magicislikelove · 19 days

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Been thinking abt fae!König. This is specifically inspired by a fic that I THINK (could be terribly wrong, but Ik this author has done fae! Fics) @ghouljams (if this isn't you, my bad! I'll try to find the proper inspiration later 😭) did where he goes hiking in the woods with his girl and just scares the living shit outta her so she starts running and then they fuck..... Anyways I just like picturing him as this giant creature!!! I'll be finishing this with color later on :))).

Detail ish shots.

#könig mw2 #könig #könig cod #cw suggestive #cw sex mention #könig call of duty #fae!könig #fae!au #monster!könig #monster!konig #my art

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stoutpancakes · 9 days

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Okay but been thinking of Orc!König.

Orc!König who finds you when raiding your village with his clan and who knows you're far sweeter, far more rewarding than the other treasures he loots from the village.

Orc!König who takes you with him as a trophy no matter how hard you fight back and can't deny the fact that it only riles him up more.

Orc!König who dresses you in the finest furs and gives you the best meats and sweetest fruits to feast upon to properly court you.

Orc!König who is reassured you're the one when you tend to his wounds after a nasty scrap with a fellow orc.

Orc!König who allows you to braid his hair, adding a little bead along with the others in his auburn locks to symbolize your marriage.

Orc!König who lays you upon the furs lining the floor of his tent to make love to you, keeping you warm all night long with the sounds of his guttural grunts and groans filling the tent.

Orc!König whose heart beats wildly at the sight of you being pregnant with a half-orc baby, watching as you waddle around camp with a hand on your back and one cradling your swollen stomach.

Orc!König and the way he will smite anyone who even breathes wrong in your direction, vowing to protect you and your baby from anyone and anything.

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deunmiu-dessie · 16 days

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he misses you. he misses you like a flower misses the sun. like the desert misses the rain. like you are the entirety of his being. as if you hold the key to his fierce, thumping bloody heart within the palm of your hands, like he is nothing without you— and perhaps he isn't. he doesn't feel like himself, no, in fact, he feels empty. like a shell of the man he used to be before you. he feels as though the world has lost its color, its meaning, and it makes him feel bare— it makes him feel.

he misses you. he misses the warmth of your perfume, a sweet and spicy blended aroma of saffron and sugared lavender. he misses your smile, all wide and pretty— genuine and charming, and always all for him. he misses the sound of your laughter, raw and boisterous, but sometimes soft and breathy, intimate. he misses your kisses, shy and cloying— yet fierce and angry at times as well. he misses the small things, like the scatter of moles across the expanse of your body that he finds himself counting when he can't fall asleep. or the way you fuss over him, mumbling curses and your love for him all in the same sentence.

he is nothing without you, and he knows it all too well.

the soft jangle of your keys in the lock makes him look up from his journal, the door swinging open. and despite himself, he finds that he's softened underneath your warm, loving gaze. ah, he also misses the sound of your voice, euphonious and soft, a tone you use for him specifically.

❝why are you looking at me like that?❞

he can feel his heart dance within his chest, pounding fiercely as you slant your hip to the side, the very same hips he adores holding onto when swaying with you to music. your eyes, which always seem to sweep him under with their intensity with no fail, are glittering with mirth, it knocks the breath from his chest. ❝ i adore you,❞ he utters— he sounds like a fool in love, and he doesn't particularly mind it. your cheeks flush with color and you playfully roll your eyes. that's alright, you don't need to say it back, he knows.

❝help me with the groceries?❞

he? ⸺ SIMON, gojo satoru, DAMON SALVATORE, soap, older!TANJIRO, scott mccall, GAZ, clark kent, EMMETT CULLEN, leon kennedy, STEVE HARRINGTON, giyu tomioka, JOHN PRICE, loran, ULYSSES, rick grimes, KÖNIG, dick grayson, SPENCER REID.

honestly it can be anyone you envision.

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konigsblog · 4 days

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expanding on this stupid idea...

two-dicked könig fucking your tight asshole and cunt at the same time.🩸

tw/cw; — non-con/dub-con, hybrid fucking, monster fucking, mentions of kidnapping. 18+

photo credits; x_bruisedpeach_x on x/🐦

you're not exactly sure how you got yourself into this mess. he's some sort of hybrid, with horns and dark eyes, gazing into your soul and possessing your body. he turns you into a fleshlight for himself and his own satisfaction, lifeless in his tight grip as he takes control over you every movement, pushing himself into your swollen folds, his other dick prodding at your tight asshole.

your back is against the wet grass, prior to a thunderstorm. it's still raining slightly, the light raindrops against your face, gazing dizzily into the night sky. your eyes look empty with no sign of life despite your beating heart, with könig pushing both of his large, hung cocks into you, his firm grasp only tightening when he slides himself inside, forcing your legs apart at his will.

it's a struggle, of course it is. being stuffed from both ends isn't exactly the comfiest thing ever, and you're sure as hell struggling to take every inch of his meaty dicks. your ass aches at the fullness, your stomach creating a bulge, disappearing and reappearing when he drives his muscular, sturdy hips into you. you're so small in comparison to the seven foot giant, his brute body hunched over yours to protect you from any other monster that lingers in the forest late at night, the smell of sweat and sex burning your nostrils. könig heaves and growls, a demonic and unholy sound emitting from deep within him.

your tight pussy clutches onto his heat instinctively, his heavy balls tight and full of load, that he'll shoot into both holes of yours. your body is weak with his thrusts only becoming more violating and humiliating, forced to be compliant with him as he takes over your mind, turning you into a set of holes simply for his own selfish benefit. the dark claws on his large, calloused hands dig into your flesh as he pounds into you, ploughing into your soft slit mercilessly, leaving marks that you'll remember him by, when you're locked away in a little cage for him, a captive in his grimey hands.

fuck, how is a tiny little thing like you supposed to takes loads of his milky, creamy semen? especially when it's fucked into your holes at a rapid and ruthless pace, leaving your form weak and defenceless beneath him, pleading for mercy through struggled whines and protests, his creamy stickiness oozing from the sides of your cunt, stuffed to the brim.

serve your purpose and become a slave for him.

#orla speaks #könig #konig #konig cod #konig x reader smut #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig x you #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #tw: monster fucking #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: dark content #cod x reader #cod x reader smut

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frogchiro · 11 months

Note

It’s alright I should’ve been more clear about which post it was! I am thinking about a monster König and Ghost fight for reader now though😳

okay imma be real, I used this as an excuse to write about monster! König because I'M NOT OKAY

I've seen someone on Twitter or tiktok say that König is just a barely domesticated alternate and honestly? Yeah <3

When I called Monster! Ghost a menace, then you haven't met König, absolutely shameless and nasty, the ultimate menace to society and you too, once you show him any sign of kindness you're not getting rid of him.

He's a shadow creature too but jesus christ he's terrifying. You know how alternates (from Mandela Catalogue) are almost always shown to be just those vaguely shaped dark masses lurking in the darkness with their eyes being the most pronounced feature? That's König. He's fucking terrifying, his wide eyes trailing after you from the dark tree line in the evening when you're doing some chores like last minute watering your plants or watching you from behind the curtains at night when you're entertaining yourself with a book or show.

It's honestly very unnerving, the feeling of someone clearly watching you but the second you turn around there's nothing there, yet you could swear you saw something move right in the corner of your eye.

As for König's and Ghost's rivalry, it's more of a 'who's more bold and cunning and who can hide better'. It's a dick measuring contest tbh. Ghost will boast about snatching some of your clothes and mocking the bigger male but then König performs the biggest 'fuck you' move and...reveals himself to you. More or less.

He comes to you one day as a kind of questionable creature, like a small land-octopus-something with huge begging eyes and you just can't leave it alone :(( You have no clue what this creature may be but your heart broke at the pathetic sight; the little one covered in bruises and dirt and making tiny hurt noises so you just had to take it in!

Of course just as you picked König up (his transforming ability finally coming handy) and carried him home to give him a bath and take care of his 'injuries' König looked over your shoulder and have Ghost the nastiest, most smug look he could manage in this form and he could almost hear the angry yells and bellows in Ghost's mind as he had to watch König snuggle closer to your breast :(((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #they are both fucking goblins #absolutely feral #monster!ghost #monster!könig #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader

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cowyolks · 5 months

Text

FAINT JINGLING BRASS

Pairing: Krampus! König x Female Reader

Prompt: There was something about you, something that urged the beast to enter your cottage. It was intrigued, sniffing the anguish of your very soul- and it wanted you.

Warnings: Predator/Prey Dynamics, stalking behaviors, spanking, oral (receiving), fingering, mutual masturbation, monster sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie.

Words: 5.2 K

A/N: Yes, it has in fact, came to this. I have been a silent lover of the monster fucker committee, and this is my offering. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

You hated Christmas.

It wasn’t always that way. When you were little, you’d help your father pick out a tree from the massive evergreen grove that bordered your childhood cottage on the outskirts of the Alps. You’d help your mother dry oranges and string popcorn to place on the pine-scented branches.

You’d laugh at the nostalgic sound of jingle bells and hum carols that your late grandmother had taught you. The scent of gingerbread and pine incense would seep through every room.

Christmas was a time of Joy, to celebrate the end of the year, and wait in anticipation for Saint Nicolas.

That all changed after the accident.

The coroner ruled it to be a mistake, some drunkard that was directing his sleigh too fast. You had survived the collision, insisting on riding in the back where you could see the glistening brass of the jingle bells attached to the back of the sleigh.

Now the sound nauseated you, filling you with a looming sense of dread and hate for all things Christmas.

The cottage that was once full of laughter and joy, was now empty and cold. Sweets that were once baked were replaced with bare necessities you would eat only to survive. Incense that once burned was replaced with small logs burning in the fireplace, keeping your body as warm as it could, despite the clothes that now swallowed you from your rapid weight loss.

You'd watch in envy from down the mountain swells, pinpointing the children skating on powdery ice, parents buying traded gifts and kissing under mistletoe.

Your hands, shaking in cold, shut the thin drapes with a bitter sigh. You would have to go down to the stores tomorrow, begging for at least a loaf of bread, or possibly a portion of cheese or dried meat. You would have to go in the early hours of the morning, before the obnoxious drunks put on their furry masks and horns for the second day Krampusnacht. They would run and terrorize the children on the cobbled streets, even the women who walked alone were not safe. It was a sick tradition you would try your best to avoid.

But for now, you wouldn't think of going to the village. You would do as you always did. Carry on.

Gathering the thick material of your shawl, you threw it on over your shoulders. Not even your sorrow could stop you from chores. With your worn boots placed over your cold feet, you stepped outdoors. Immediately you braced yourself against the cold, feeling the wind bite at your cheeks. The bitter snap of cold was harsh enough to make your teeth chatter and nipples stiffen.

Regardless, you pushed through the heavy snow down the shoveled path to the stables. Your Lipizzan mare, named Sterne, was huddled in the corner of her stall. Snowy fur highlighted her in the growing twilight. She huffed as you approached, white smoke leaving her nostrils, making her look like some sort of angry dragon. Perhaps she was, you were late in giving her dinner.

With a sigh, you grabbed the fork, pitching some old hay into her stall with a grunt. You were running low on feed too, you'd have to scrounge up some oats for her, and corn for the chickens.

A soft whinny echoed in the tight space, Sterne's frosted head bonking against your shoulder in a quiet thank you. Your mittened hands reached upwards, patting her withers gently.

"You up for a run to town tomorrow, girl?" You spoke to her, the only conversation you had started today, your voice raw from being unused. She whinnied again, understanding the word "ride" and pawing the dirt in anticipation. The mare was definitely more excited than you were.

With a final pat, you left her stall, throwing a half empty sack of corn over your shoulder on the way out. You spotted your beaten path in the growing darkness, making your way to the chickens that roosted in a small coop.

You hurriedly shuffled in the snow, your paranoid mind always screaming at you when it came to be dark. You never liked being out in the open, always feeling like you were being watched, despite the mountain tops sheltering your home.

You opened the coop door, pushing yourself into the tight space just to get rid of some of the paranoia. Your hens cooed at your presence, leaving their nesting boxes after hearing the shuffling of corn. You worked half-blind, pouring the corn into the wooden trough, and making sure they still had fresh water you melted this morning.

With a sigh, you braced yourself to leave the coop, glancing out the small window towards the forest before you committed. Nothing was seen in the tree line making your muscles unwind, relaxing slightly. You huffed, shaking your head at your ridiculous behavior, that was until you caught onto the strange prints in the snow.

They looked to be like the mountain goats that grazed upon the mountaintops, but they never came this close to people. And the prints were large, abnormally large. You glanced onward, observing the strange gait the prints had, like the goat or sheep was limping, or taking large steps.

The gears in your mind shifted, thinking of a logical reason why these prints made the hair on your neck stand.

Then, it hit you.

It was Krampusnacht, someone was obviously pulling a trick on you, walking with hoof imprints on boots, likely mimicking Krampus as well. You fumed, not being one to play into games, let alone ones dealing with your least favorite holiday.

You slammed the coop door shut behind you, marching through the snow and back to the cottage that was beginning to grow cold. Your hand hit the icy door twisting the large latch and opening the cottage to the chill. Before you could slam the door in your anger and fear, you halted, turning to face the dim landscape.

"I know you're there! Might as well come in, there is nothing of value here!" You shouted angrily, knowing how the village spoke of your family. How they whispered that you were some witch that murdered her parents and lived in a hut up the mountainside, far away so you could practice your spells and potions.

They would have nothing to take.

You slammed the door shut behind you, missing the hissing laughter and jingle of brass as the wind howled over the noise. Red eyes watched through the bedroom window, your oblivious form changing into a sheer shift and wool stockings for bedtime.

The beast tilted his head to the side, taking the time to inhale largely, breathing the scent of this human girl that was so intoxicatingly unique. He had never smelt anything quite like it, involuntarily his long, forked tongue swiped across his lips as you left the room.

Your eyes would dart across the room occasionally, making sure the curtains were still drawn from the main foyer where you would sleep next to the fireplace. You got to work on the candles, red wax burning down the sticks slow and lazily. You lit a couple around the house, basking in the warm glow despite the chill.

Your stomach growled, eating itself from the inside out. You had fed your animals, and now your body screamed, my turn. You decided on the last bit of homemade buckwheat bread. It was dry and stale, but it satisfied your hunger at least until the morning time.

There was little left to do but rest, but it seemed your body wouldn't be able to sleep with the possible threat outdoors. It could be nothing, but you couldn't let it go. You were too weak to fight off a grown man, unless perhaps you had your father's old crossbow, but that would take more strength to load than you had.

For now, all you could do was wait.

You smoothed out the thin cotton of your slip, sighing when you realized you would have to hem it, or you'd risk showing your breasts from the loss of weight. You tugged it upwards, smoothing it over your skin with a critical look.

You startled as the wind howled and whistled through the chimney, flickering the flames you worked so hard to produce. You leant forward, blowing gently upon them until the ashes brightened and it burned steady again.

You settled down upon the wooden floor, the planks covered in a thick arrangement of all the quilts and knitted blankets you owned. It was far too cold to sleep in your bedroom at the opposite end of the house, so your makeshift nest would have to do.

You hardly remembered closing your eyes, just that there was nothing better to do besides get some rest for your busy day tomorrow.

You dreamt of falling snow, the landscape only lit with the dull glow of the crescent moon above. You were in a clearing, pine trees growing over you as if they were extending to shake your hand. Then, as you began to swivel and study the landscape, a shrill sound of a bell made you turn in the direction, your own eyes settling on dark growing red ones, rectangular pupils dilating as it watched.

You woke up with a gasp, panicking at the loss of light throughout the room. The fireplace was glowing ash, signaling that you had been asleep for a few hours, although it only felt like minutes.

Your body was shivering, drawing you to the conclusion that you definitely woke up to the cold, not whatever nightmare your mind had conjured. With a yawn, you reached, placing more dead cedar onto the ashes, watching it hungrily catch.

“You need to relax.” You chided to yourself, rubbing your arms together as your eyes adjusted to the moonlight that flooded through the cracks in the curtains. It was a dangerous time to be by yourself, lights dimmed with nothing but your thoughts.

You thought of how around this time you would be in the village with your parents, pointing out the prettiest decorated trees, or indulging in a sweet treat like a slab of dark chocolate, or possibly an orange or apple.

You sighed, watching as the smoke curled away from your lips and swirled around the house. Eyes found the steady lick of flames, the wood popping and spilling ash so loud you missed the small creak of the floorboards behind you. The creature watched, intrigued at the visible curvature of your spine and the heady scent of dreadful nostalgia you wafted.

He wanted to make himself known, to feed off of your emotions and kill this foreign urge that had his body buzzing.

You froze when you heard the faint sound of a brass bell, throat bobbing as all your limbs seized up. A hissing purr releasing from directly behind you, startling you so much you hardly registered you were on your feet and turning to the sound.

Eyes rounded, a shriek threatening to escape your throat if it wasn't for the fact that you were frozen in fear. This thing, it was too real. All it did was stare, as if it was letting you take in his presence.

This thing was too tall to be a mere man or schoolboy from the village. The creature had to be at least eight feet tall, hunched over to avoid hitting the wooden rafters of the cottage. It wore a large coat made of old fur, likely wolf or bear, it covered the span of it's wide back and huge arms. The hood was pulled, but it couldn't possibly hide the large horns protruding from its head. Bells hung from the horns, ringing with every ragged breath it took. It was human, but not. A nose and mouth just like yours, until a forked tongue swept out like a serpent tasting the air. Human arms and muscular abdomen, but fur-covered powerful legs and hooves for feet.

Red eyes glowed back at you, just like the ones from your dreams. Realization sunk in—this creature had been watching you, polluting your dreams and feasting off your fear.

This was Krampus, and he was here to punish you.

Again, there was hissing laughter that rattled the rafters, causing you to flinch. His maw grinned, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"I smell your fear, little one." It purred, as if amused by your rapidly beating heart. "Do you know who I am?" It asked in its hollow voice, although it looked as if his mouth hardly moved.

"Krampus." You squeaked, hair standing up on the ends of your neck as you took a step backward towards the fireplace, spine hitting the cold stones with a gentle thud. You would have to run, find a way to Sterne in the stables, because there was no way you would make it to the village on foot and match his massive stride and hooves.

Krampus seemed to catch onto your planning, because the creature took a single step forward, hoof knocking hard on the ground as it blinked in approval of your introduction.

"Very good, human. Though we prefer König." Hmm, King, the beast had dubbed his name after a ruler, despite his other half, Saint Nick, being far more beloved.

"Why are you here?" You whimpered, hoping to stall as your hand reached backwards to discretely find the stiff iron of the poker. If you could not run, you would fight.

"As if you don't know, girl? They call you witch under their breath, speak on how much you hate Christmas and people. How you haven't even visited your parent's graves. That's cold." It cackled at the joke, just as familiar anger flooded your veins at the mention of your family.

"Shut up!" You seethed, hand fisting the handle of the poker. "You don't know anything about me." Spoken like a cornered dog, ready to lash out at the hand who fed it.

"Don't I?" The creature drew closer, close enough you could see the claws on his paw like hands, the pointed ears that resembled an elf or nymph, and the birch whip he fastened over his cloak. König stepped within range, yet before you could stab the iron into flesh, a clawed hand grabbed your wrist, faster than you could have possibly moved.

The beast loomed over you, your chin only reaching the hard rigidness of his lower abdomen, where fur met human skin.

"I can smell the ambition, raw pain, starvation. You want revenge, don't you girl?"

It was true, you were far too ambitious for your own good. Plotting and planning ways you could murder the damn drunkard for killing the only people that mattered to you. Now, your heart was crushed in pieces, no family, no love, no acceptance.

Perhaps you were more like this beast then you thought.

While ambition ran through your veins, so did stubbornness. You wouldn't agree with him, at least verbally. Instead, your stare locked with his rectangular pupils, chin held high, and jaw clenched.

A slow smile spread across his lips, a growling laughter much like a whistle escaped him, just as he dropped your wrist. It fell to your side, aching slightly from his grip. "You're like nothing I've ever seen, Little One. You intrigue us." He slithered out.

"What do you want?" You spat, gaze falling on the birch switch slung over his shoulders, and the expansive length of his claws. He could kill you, but it was obvious you piqued his interest, despite you not really understanding why.

"To help you." König cackled, taking another step forward, now close enough that you could smell the scent of pine and earthen musk, not the rot they had told you Krampus stunk of in stories.

"Why?"

a clawed finger moved upwards, moving to the soft lines of your jaw. You turned slightly, cheek hitting the cold cobble of the fireplace to escape his touch. The sharp talon extended, brushing against your skin way too softly for a beast such as he. Predatory eyes dropped to your sheer nightdress, the material splaying softly over what little curves you had left. You exhaled nervously, suddenly drawing conclusions of what this thing wanted.

"No... No." You swatted his hand, an unknown feeling warming your gut at the look this monster had given you with flashing eyes.

A snap cracked throughout the cottage, candles lighting on their own as it luminated the wooden table near the fireplace. Your head rotated in that direction, peeking around the beast to see a table full of all foods imaginable. Roasted duck, chicken, potatoes, blood oranges, nuts, jams and jellies. Along the masses of food, glistened jewelry of golds and silvers, bloody rubies and glowing emerald. It was enough to buy the entire village.

You took a step forward, moving beyond the creature to get a better look, nearly hitting your head on his massive horns. It had to be some massive illusion, this whole thing a dream. Krampus, your parents, these treasures— all fake.

As your fingers ran through the cool texture of gold coins, and you felt the beast breathe down your neck— you knew it had to be real.

"I can give you all of this and more. I'll serve you your parent's killer on a silver platter, clothe you in silks and gold... give you more pleasure than any mortal man." He poisoned you, stopping your heart as a long tongue swept across the bounding pulse of your neck, leaving a warm and wet trace that had your legs going weak.

"All you have to do is give yourself to me, say yes." It nearly whimpered, making you believe you were not the only one tempted by such an offer, the creature was eager as well.

"And what if I say no?"

a firm warmth pressed against your back, the rippling muscles of his torso providing warmth that the cabin did not. "We will leave and never come back. But I believe that is not what you want, yes?"

Hesitation. Reflection. Decision.

"Take me."

A loud growl echoed the cabin at those two words. The creature picked up upon the nervousness you wafted like smoke, "Mach dir keine sorgen, Liebling. We will take good care of you."

All you could let out was a muffled squeak.

Clawed paws pressed against your collarbones, pushing your neck back and against the creature's abdomen. The beast was hunched, almost like it was encircling you like prey to get a better look at where to sink his teeth into.

It should have been wrong how good it felt to have his lips pressed to your neck, his mouth so dangerously close to you with those abnormally sharp teeth. He’d likely killed with them, but now he bit softly, pulling purplish bruises to the surface that he’d soothingly lick with his long and forked tongue. Claws smoothed over the sheer shift you wore, pulling a moan from your throat when he scraped the sharp point against your nipple.

A fistful of your breast, kneading, "You like that, girl?"

You gasped, feeling the growing heat radiate through your body as strong hands tore at the clothes, freeing your skin to the chilling air. The torn shift dropped to the ground with a dull thud, leaving you completely exposed to the beast that was nearly rattling in primal satisfaction.

A sharp crack echoed the room, a raw yet delicious sting radiated over the swell of your rear, making you gasp and catch your breath. Konig had backed away, his other hand now grasping the birch switch in his grip.

"Answer when I speak, Liebling... yes?" The creature cackled, eyes glowing a dark crimson as the bells upon his horns continued to jingle mockingly. You nodded, head tilted to the side so you could see what he was doing. Then another cracked echoed, the switch burning upon your other cheek, likely leaving delightful red marks.

"With words, little one."

"Yes, yes, I understand." You moaned, sighing in relief when the beast rubbed the irritated skin in some sort of apology. A large inhale escaped him, low purring once again rumbling his chest.

"We smell you, how sweet you are. Would you let us taste?" It was not a question, but a demand. As soon as you gave the approval to his deal, this beast would not stop until it had its way with you. You found yourself buzzing in excitement instead of grief.

"Yes."

Paws maneuvered you, letting your naked body fall back onto the nest of blankets and fur you had made in front of the burning fireplace. It was in the burning glow that you could truly see the beast, the intelligence beneath his eyes, the human nose that was curved and looked to be once broken, the darkness of stubble that covered a sharp jaw, the spiral pattern of horns, the pale glow of his skin where muscle bulged, the scars and burns that littered its torso. Then, the lower half, the dark coarse fur and shiny hooves that allowed it speed and warmth.

What had really caught your eye was the growing erection between fur and skin. It was massive, and slowly sliding out of a sheath like pocket of his body. His cock was human-like, despite the size- a large shaft twisting with veins and ending with a round tip, flushed and needy. Heavy and hairy balls hung low, making you completely second guess this whole situation you wound yourself in.

The beast noticed your stare, paw going under your chin to lock eyes with you. "Do not be so scared, little one, I'll make it fit, we just have to get you ready. Be a good girl and lay back..."

You did as you were told, focusing instead on the soft material on your bare back, and the warm heat of the fireplace wafting over your body.

Paws petted down your sides, sliding over your hips and making you shiver as he gripped below your thighs, spreading them apart so you were bared to him.

A foreign curse escaped the beast as it settled hungrily between your body, studying the sheer arousal you embarrassedly leaked. A finger prodded your slit, allowing you to hear the lewd sounds of your juices. You moaned as he spread it up and down, playfully flicking upon the puffy bead of your clit.

"Smell so divine..." It hissed, eyes locking with yours for a moment until he ducked lower, just the long expansion of his horns to be seen. Hot breath filtered across your aching cunt, making it clench around nothing. Then a sudden flick of a wet muscle startled you, making you jump and mewl.

"Taste good too, little one." The beast purred, caging your fidgeting hips against strong arms so you could no longer move against him. Eyes fluttered shut when you felt him once again lick a painfully slow stripe up your slit, collecting so much of your arousal you should have been embarrassed.

The beast was humming, seemingly enjoying the taste just as much as you were enjoying the pressure of his teasing tongue slipping over your clit.

"Please... inside." You managed to beg as the forked tongue parted lengthily from his mouth, entering the smooth and molten heat of your cunt. The muscle curled, burrowing further against your walls as you cried out in pain and pleasure.

He was stretching you, no doubt getting you prepped for what was to come. He pulled backwards, leaving your hole cold and needing. You whined, feeling completely empty until he filled you again, this time quicker and rougher.

"Fuck..." You moaned, eyes closing and head falling backwards against the wooly blanket. Claws pressed into the inside of your thighs, pulling you further apart and nearly penetrating your skin enough to draw blood.

König pulled away, licking upon your clit teasingly, "Such naughty words coming out of a girl so pretty. Shall we punish you, again?"

You whined, attempting to push your hips against his mouth, lips now covered in your slick. Sharp teeth smirked at the reaction and excitement flashed across his eyes at your blissed expression.

"Words, Liebling..." The beast warned, shifting higher to run his tongue across your breasts, leaving hot trails that cooled against the room's frigid temperature.

"Please, need you." Your chest heaved, nipples hard and bared to him as he continued to suckle and lick upon the flesh.

"So needy for my cock, but you are not ready, we would split you in two. Touch yourself." The beast ordered. You didn't dare refuse, slipping your fingers down towards your aching core. You were in shock by just how much molten slick coated your fingertips. You shyly began to circle your bud, sighing in relief as the creature fell back on his haunches to watch.

It was busy licking his lips, savoring the taste of your juices as his own paw settled upon his cock, giving it a slow pump. He watched as you moaned softly, legs becoming jelly from so much overstimulation without yet cumming.

"Inside, girl. Stretch yourself."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, but you sunk your index and middle finger inside you, moaning at the contact and noise the juices had made. The beast seemed to like it as well, because his hand fisting his cock began to increase speed.

You curled your fingers, groaning at the feeling, but realizing it did not feel as heavenly as his tongue. Your gaze landed on his paws, how his fingers were long and thick, wrapping around the whole base of his cock, it made you huff in want.

König was watching, looking at your every move. "You want my fingers, little one?"

"Yes."

A chuckling hiss left him again, just as he loomed above you once more. Your fingers left your cunt, leaving you open and throbbing for the beast to continue. A clawed finger scraped your moisture, coating it with arousal before it slipped heavenly inside you, the sharp point curling inwards.

It hurt, but oh how it felt euphoric.

The beast growled at the noises you made, cock twitching achingly against your thigh. He added another finger, picking up his pace as he continued to feed upon your moans, curiosity crawling across his face as you gripped the sheets.

"Going to- mmph," You stuttered, clenching down on his fingers, feeling the squelching of your cunt as you clamped around him, white hot pleasure leaving your body in waves as you shook and cried against him.

"So schön..." The beast kept muttering over and over again, reluctant to leave your heat but excited for what was to come.

You yelped as the creature grabbed you, your body still buzzing in pleasure. The beast huffed, smelling the scent of your orgasm and the need that still flowed from your veins. You were crushed against his torso, secured against him until he laid back and sprawled. His cock lay twitching between your legs, your slick coating the shaft as he maneuvered you above him.

It was a submissive position for him, allowing you to be on top of such a creature. You had a million questions- why wouldn't he take you like the half-animal he was, or at least allow himself the pleasure to sink into you instead of you maneuvering the pace?

A hand kneaded the flesh of your ass, lifting your body up as his other settled upon the mass length of his cock.

Then it all clicked.

The creature wanted you to begin, to stretch yourself out as he watched. He wanted to see your expression as you lost yourself and locked him inside you. It made you that much more eager to please him.

König slid his cock against your slick, growling in anticipation as the head lined with your small hole.

"Go slow, little one. Do not hurt yourself."

You bent your knees, lowering slowly onto his head. He hissed at such a tight squeeze, claws imprinting into your hips once again as he held you up.

"So tight," it hissed, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth like a dog.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, foreign to the feeling of being so impossibly full. Your walls burned at the stretch, but you pushed forward more, until it grew so painful you had to halt your movements.

"Too much." You weakly spoke, halting on his length that throbbed in need. You couldn't have been more than halfway down his shaft.

"Shh..." The creature cooed, running soft paws down your sides again, a soothing pattern. It began to purr, the vibrations somewhat of a lullaby as he rattled. You relaxed slightly, feeling the warmth of him. Your body changed, cunt opening up slightly with preparation to take the rest of him.

You sighed, sinking further until your ass hit the furry coat of his thighs, the soft texture comforting you further. You cooed at the stretch, noticing that the beast was uncharacteristically quiet with its eyes closed.

You found yourself missing the attention.

Hips jutting forward, sawing into his abdomen as you ground down upon his cock. Red eyes flew open, a growl leaving his throat as a slap landed across your sore rear again.

"Squeezing me so good, human. I will breed you." The creature decided, claws pulling upon your ass and lifting you halfway up and slamming you back down against his swollen balls.

You moaned, never feeling more full in your life. He lifted you higher, seemingly no longer caring that you controlled. It must have been against his nature, and it was obvious as he lifted you completely off of him.

You were flipped, as if you weighed nothing more than a simple sack of flour. A hand pushed upon your back, making your spine arch as you settled upon your hands and knees, ass up and bared to your purring monster.

"Such a pretty one, bared to me and needy." It hissed, plunging his glistening cock into your wet heat with no warning. Furry thighs slammed against your ass, pulling you back into him with such power you lost your breath.

You struggled to clutch onto something, settling on your quilts as you mewled out in white-hot pleasure. It continued its blinding pace, slamming in and pulling out nearly all the way before hitting the tip of your womb again.

Pressure began to build up in your stomach, body crying again for another release. You arched further against him, meeting his thrusts in a sloppy sounding slap.

"That's it, Liebling. Cum for me now, and I'll fill you up."

Nothing sounded better.

With one last snap of his hips, you were releasing, crying out into the dark cabin. You clenched around him, gushing and clamping to him so much you felt the stutter of his movement as his arms pulled you closer, pushing his throbbing cock so far into you, you could feel the bulge against your stomach.

White hot liquid pooled into your cervix, coating you and staining your body for the rest of your life. You would never be fucked the same way again, and the beast knew it as well.

König maneuvered you again, settling you upon the soft blankets as you both panted from pleasure and exhaustion. Purrs rumbled from his chest as your body curled into his own, still connected.

"You are mine to take care of now, little one."

Exhausted eyes closed, settling in a peaceful slumber aided by the soft jingle of brass bells.

Maybe, Christmas would not be so bad after all.

Tags: @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #könig #monster könig #König x reader #könig x you #monster fucker #monster smut #this is a bit out of my comfort zone but oh well #konig x reader #konig

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garbagegrave · 5 months

Text

LISTEN HERE. MONSTER!KONIG LIKE THE ALIENS FROM "EDGE OF TOMORROW"

I mean..Uh.. THE CONCEPT

Konig's tentacles are located as if by a second layer of muscles under the skin, having their own relief.

They can stretch out and tighten back under the skin like the horns of a snail uwu

What's in full monster form? well....

#konig mw2 #konig call of duty #cod mw2 #könig cod #konig #call of duty #cod #codmw #konig whithout a mask #konig cod #monster konig #tw monsterfucking

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itsagrimm · 8 months

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He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 11 - The Dive

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN: Mentions of possible death and injury, fear of water, nearly drowning, mentions of possibly getting hurt, inappropriate use of an axe, depression and bad mental health, on character is passively suicidal, cannibalism, fear of being alone, fear of separation from a loved one, lack of self-confidence, kissing, making out, partial nudity

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the equally afflicted @queenquazar. Unhinged writing and editing sessions in the dead of night wouldn't be the same without you.

6.0k words

Masterlist

Hope you enjoyed your summer as I have but now as it's getting colder, darker and most importantly weather outside, I am fairly sure updates will roll quicker now.

also I need to do more trips with my camera, I am running out of decent looking header photos.

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

The fresh morning breeze caressed over your slowly warming up skin. Branches of trees danced a lazy rhythm and the late birds of summer sang their song. Ghost stood next to you, wrapped in his coat made of leaves and moss and sturdy solitude, as you both looked up to the window of your bedroom. König was in there, still asleep and out of your reach.

“Let’s try to wake up König one more time.”

Hope reared its head as you heard Ghost’s words.

But not too high.

“How?” You wondered out loud. “I am sorry that you feel stuck here with me, but König did not wake up last time you tried. Why should he now?”

“Maybe we need to try harder,” Ghost replied and grabbed Königs axe.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on!” You tried to stop what was unfolding before you, only to witness Ghost grow in size, taller than the trees, taller than the house, and far away from your little human words.

“Enough, little brother,” Ghost groaned from high above you and you had to shield your ears from the loud thundering voice “It is time to wake up. I am tired of guarding your Bride in your stead.”

Birds took off, the earth shook and trees froze as in fear of the giant that was said to be their guardian.

Ghost straightened up and turned to the house.

“Hey!”

Like an animal on the hunt that got caught, Ghost froze and turned back, staring down at you with an oddly blank expression.

“What are you up to, Ghost?” You called, trying to ignore the little voice in your mind telling you that shutting up and quivering in fear before the giant was a smarter strategy to survive.

“Why the axe?” You squeaked as you tried not to squeak.

Ghost blinked, confused by this little being that was his future sister in law. Such a flimsy thing of flesh and bone, shouting at him from her place in the dirt. Ghost glanced at the axe, shaking his head.

“Right. I am sorry. I am not used to explaining myself but you have every right to ask,” Ghost admitted, and fell back into a shape more approachable to you, like a shadow growing smaller by the change of light.

“You can do it.” Ghost said. “Hit König with the axe to wake him up.”

You blinked, it was your turn to stare confused.

“He is just the Vodyanoy napping in water. Swinging an axe against him is like hitting the surface of a lake, stirring up a few waves but nothing else. He will be fine. And hopefully he will wake up from it.” Ghost explained and passed you the heavy axe before growing in size again.

You looked down onto the massive wood axe in your hands, the wooden handle old and used.

“Are you sure that will work, Ghost?” Uncertainty creeping up in your mind and voice, worry and frustration manifesting about your fiance’s wellbeing and actions.

“Have you ever heard of running water getting cut?” Ghost answered. “I am not saying König will like it, but it won’t harm him. Trust me.”

You swallowed, feeling uneasy. Hitting a human with an axe in their sleep was murder. Plain and simple. But, König was as much a human as you were a fish. His skin shifted and shaped as he pleased. He ruled the waters and even summoned them in his dreams after not sleeping for who knows how long, destroying your room. And his eyes…

“I understand this might be a lot to ask,” Ghost paused. “You will have to trust me on this one, Vodyanitza.”

His words danced through your mind like willow branches in the wind. If Ghost would have wanted to and this was ill-intentioned, he could have harmed König without bothering to talk and convince you of this plan. Maybe there was a point in trusting Ghost even if the thought of König getting hurt made you grow colder inside than the cooler morning breeze ever could.

You looked up to the giant and nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

“Hold on tight,” He stated and grabbed you to place onto the window sill to your bedroom. Like a leaf he tumbled into the room after you, turning himself small again and landing in the splashing water on your bedroom floor.

You cried out, first in surprise than dreadful fear from all the water suddenly around you as the heavy axe slipped out of your fingers and landed in the water, sinking down with a shallow ‘clunk’ against the wooden planks.

“Ghost. I-” you eyed the water splashing around the room like a lively river. Or a dark river, a deep river, deep enough to drown. “I am afraid of water. I can’t get down from here. I can’t do it.”

Ghost made a sound that could have been a grumbled curse whispered by a tree before being hit by lightning.

“A Vodyaniza who fears the water,” He stated. “Sounds right like the mess my brother would cause. Alright, I’ll do it then.”

“Wait,” You looked at König as you tried to calm your nerves as you took deep calming breaths. He was still deep asleep. A mess of tangled unhuman limbs and scales and hair and skin in the waters of your flooded room. Panic and fear surged from all the water, but you forced those emotions in you aside as you tried to commit his sight to your memory, just in case something was to go wrong.

“Okay,” You finally agreed and nodded to Ghost.

This was it.

Ghost picked up the axe from the water and raised it high before swinging it down onto König.

The impact of the axe connecting with Königs head sounded like thunder rolling over you.

Loud and painful and final.

Suddenly, like a storm, the water rose and reached high before you, waves building and crashing at your feet as you held onto the window frame for dear life while trying to see through the room filled with fine droplets of water and foamy waves.

A groan rang through your ear.

Königs voice - strained and painfully familiar.

Another groan as you heard a second hit from the axe through the wild waters before you … like…

…like a yawn before having to leave bed, yet still feeling tired.

“König?” You hoped aloud, your voice being drowned out by the rushing water and Ghost’s deep voice.

“Wakey-wakey, brother! Stop making your Bride wait for you!”

“Urgh.”

A massive wave crashed right next to the wall with your window, breaking the glass and causing the house to shake from the impact.

“Get up, little brother.” You could not see through all the splashing water before you, only hearing the sound of Ghost’s deep voice. “Stop being dramatic and flooding your girl’s room. It’s rude.”

A third axe hit thundered through the little space before you. More water rose and a wave finally hit you. You wailed as you tried to fight against the dreadful flood, with desperate fingers you reached for safety. Catching the clammy window frame, the sill, and finally just the thin fabric of the curtains until the pull of the retreating water consumed you and took you in to the deep waters.

The silence of being underwater was more unbearable for your mind than the loud crashing of waves and shattering sounds of the hitting axe above.

For a moment fear froze your body and you could not help but stare as you floated impossibly downwards at the sight of König, coiled up like a serpent snake and shifting scales reflecting the light. His eyes were closed except for a sliver of that beautiful blue peeking into the world as if the king of everything under the water was about to wake up. Bubbles of air fought their way out of your lungs and you felt panic as you watched the axe hitting König from above.

Would he be fine?

No blood came out of the wound that broke as the axe connected with Königs sleeping shape. You watched König being unharmed and lazily stretching his long limbs and body as you floated downwards, taken by a strong current in the impossibly deep waters of your bedroom.

Wait, would you be fine?

König did not notice any of it. Instead, his eyes only slightly fluttered, as if merely being tickled awake - lazy, unfocused blinking of blue eyes before sharpening up. Still sleepy, he looked around as if confused if he was still dreaming or awake. Finally, König locked eyes with you and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, toothy and life-savingly-relieving to see him coming back to his senses.

You did not smile back. The air bubbles in your mouth were too precious a cargo to smile for König, opting instead for an unhappy grimace and some waving motions that hopefully spelled out: ‘I don’t want to be here and need your help to get out’.

For a moment, a very long moment as you struggled, König blinked before the realisation kicked in. He was far away, so far away from you in the waters that he had dreamed up. Yet, unbelievably quick the serpent body moved and changed as König headed for you. With hands, not scaled claws anymore, König reached out as he fought his way through a whole ocean between you and him as a last air bubble left your mouth.

Your head was spinning and you started to lose sight as you felt hands on you that lifted you up and out of the water.

You coughed, ungraciously spitted out water as König tried wiping out hair and tangled clothes out of your face.

“Bride! Are you okay?”

You vomited water at his feet and chest while he held you like a cat that got rescued from the floods, close to his body and patting you like a little animal.

“She looks fine.” Ghost’s gravelly voice sounded through the air as you still tried to blink and see. “You better worry about this flood you caused.”

“Oh. Right.” You felt König shift and then the sound of water draining away as if someone had pulled a plug.

You coughed again for good measure, still feeling weak and miserably wet. The cold was starting to set in as the rush of fear and panic started to run out.

Shivering, you tried wiping away the water from your face and opened your eyes.

Your bedroom was a mess. But not in the way your mother would have disapproved of but in a way she would have questioned whether or not it was still habitable. The water was gone, but the signs of the flood were catastrophically clear with nothing being dry, in pieces or not where it ought to be. Your bed was a pile of torn fabrics and splintered wood. The chest with your clothing, tipped over and empty, looked like a sad hungry animal no one had bothered to feed. And your few personal possessions, kept toys from your childhood, gifts from friends, clothes lying around the floor. Ghost was standing before you on something that might have been pieces of your wedding dress, leaning on the axe with the same skull-covered expression as always, yet appearing somewhat amused under it.

And König - he was holding you up to his chest, his hands still patting you helplessly as if that could help you. He looked human. Mostly. The hair was as messy as the first day you saw him, covering most of his face except for blue eyes burning through with worry.

“I-” you rasped despite the storm of emotions waging through you. “I was so worried about you, König.”

Another cough.

“But I have never been as angry as this before. What did you do with my room? And my wedding dress. Also-”

You felt like there was still some water in places of your body where none was supposed to be, wheezing and shaking your head from the uncomfortable feeling.

“-put me down. You are so cold and I feel like I am freezing in your arms.”

Guiltily, König put you down, mumbling something that could have been an apology while Ghost choked on something that could have been a laugh.

You paid no attention to them, concentrating on your weak legs to hold you and carry you to the torn pieces of your wedding dress. Ghost stepped aside and watched you with open curiosity as you held your dress in disbelief of how quickly your work had turned into rags. Holding back tears, you let the fabric fall back down with a wet squelching sound and turned to the door. If you were lucky the hinges still worked and you could walk out on your own and warm you up again downstairs, away from the left battlefield that used to be your sanctuary.

You stumbled, reaching for the handle and opening the door only to face another cruel adversary.

The stairs.

There was no way you were able to make it down the steps without breaking your neck with how wobbly your legs felt and how ridiculously shaky your hands twitched.

You turned around, the pleading frustration in your eyes too visible for König not to step closer and peaking at the obstacle in your way.

He nodded while trying to control whatever emotions attempted to govern his face.

“Allow me, Bride.” He asked and lifted you up again before carrying you downstairs and into the kitchen, setting you down before the warm oven.

Ghost followed and started preparing tea and a hot stone before leaving the room as König returned with dry clothes for you, magically found somewhere in a part of the house that hadn’t been flooded. You looked at the pieces offered in his hands, only to see that it was a mix of mostly your fathers and brothers clothes from the storage. You did not care. They were dry and the village would judge you no matter what you wore. Might as well just do the best for yourself.

Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your dripping clothes. König held and steadied you where you needed it and grabbed the discarded pile of fabrics to put it up on the laundry line outside once you were done.

You stayed where you were, leaning close to the oven in the hopes of warming up quickly, and refusing to do anything before feeling less miserable.

Ghost was still a guest. And König was your fiance. A good hostess and bride would have started serving them the food that you had previously prepared.

A good hostess and bride would not have been dipped into a pool of dreamed up water in their own bedroom either. You thought bitterly before adding a relieving Fuck it.

Someone knocked at the door and you called them in.

Ghost reappear from the outside with a blanket of moss and leaves, wrapping it around you and placing you in the nearest chair to the oven before passing you a cup of the freshly brewed tea.

“Thank you,” You rattled through cold lips.

König returned with more wood for the oven and added a large log to feed the fire. You had shown him how to care for a fire, never expecting he would ever find a need for it. Both brothers hustled and moved around your little kitchen, hardly speaking and only every once in a while giving you worried glances as they made sure all work of a proper household would be done while you rested and warmed yourself. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of being safe and cared for, seep in.

This day, even if it was slightly past midday, had punched all energy out of you while also confronting you with every possible emotion a human heart could feel. Waking up in the flood, alone and confused, next to your water serpent like fiance, meeting your future brother-in-law who thought you would die soon, nearly drowning once again while your fiance woke from the literally deepest nap possible in your now destroyed room. You sighed, not even bothering to bring order into your mind.

Instead, you gratefully thought how you finally weren’t alone even if it was scary at times to share your life with beings so different from you - König, Ghost, Farah, talking animals and murderous Rusalkis. Yes, this had been another moment where you could have been harmed. And mourning your room and things destroyed by the flood, was one of many things in the curled grey corners of your mind. There was still anger and confusion in you why it all had happened. But you weren’t alone anymore to face those things on your own. There were people around you now that noticed you and cared for your well-being. Clearly, not all of them to the same degree or out of the same motive. You understood that. But your lost room and wedding dress, your fears and secrets and longings felt more like a coherent song than a desperate cry for help when it wasn’t just your voice.

Someone touched you softly on the shoulder and you opened your eyes.

“Hey.” König stood before you with his blue watery eyes and wild hair.

Both brothers had paused their busy work and stood with their attention turned towards you.

“How are you feeling?” Ghost asked gravely from his far away spot at the door and reached for more tea for you with his long unhuman arms without moving.

You shivered, unsure if from the cold or from the odd reminder that neither of the men were human.

“Better,” You replied. “Thank you for giving me time to recover.”

Your eyes wandered to König, craving to hear his voice again and feel his warming eyes on you. He looked away, avoiding your gaze.

Your little heart dropped deeper than the waters in your room had been, fighting hard to soldier on.

You cleared your throat.

“Well,” you squeaked, your voice still feeling thin and fragily human as you addressed the giant men. “I am starving. This is not how a host normally does it in this house since all I did was sit and rest now. But how about we eat?”

The rabbit stew that you had made this morning smelled tempting and promising from its reheating spot in the oven and you heard your own stomach growl.

“Thank you for the invite, Vodyanitza,” Ghost declared, slightly bowing his head. “But we will have to do that another time.”

“Oh,” You huffed, slightly disappointed.

Ghost stilled, as if thinking before taking a deep breath.

“It has been lovely meeting you, my dear sister-in-law. It’s been a pleasure. Also- ” He paused. “I may have treated you rougher than necessary and I do apologise for that. If you ever need help, just send for me. I may not appear to be the most, let’s say, approachable. But I do hope that there is nothing but the best for you and I am looking forward to your wedding.”

“You are coming after all?” König finally spoke, surprise ringing in his voice as he turned to his brother.

Ghost nodded. “It’s not every day a brother of mine gets married. I need to make sure you don’t drown your own wedding guests.”

König forced a smile.

“Graves marries someone new every couple of years,” He interjected.

“Graves married and remarried so much, he hardly needs his elder brother to tell him how to plan a party. He knows what he is doing.”

Both brothers chuckled and you smiled at the sight, remembering your own brother.

“Before I go, dear sister, allow me to give you something.”

Ghost reached into his coat. From the depths of his pockets he produced a huge leaf, rolled up into a package and bound together with a simple string.

“I suppose you have none yet, but a future queen should wear one. It would look good on your wedding day.”

You took the package from his hands and pressed it slightly, trying to guess what was inside.

“Thank you, Ghost. Why-“

“Open it.”

Obediently you opened the little knot holding the leaf together with slow, cold fingers and unrolling what was inside.

You gasped.

In your hands was a Kokoshnik, large and covered with fine embroidery and colourful stones of green and blue. It felt firm in your hands. And it wanted to be worn. Like a crown, proud and bright for a special day. At least one thing you would have for your wedding day.

You thought back a sob at the thought of your torn wedding dress, your fingers still holding the precious crown like an anchor.

“I am sure König will gladly help you put it on. But don’t lose it. I made it for you and there is no other like it. It will protect you when you walk in the forest.”

“I…”, you huffed, “…don’t know what to say. This is very beautiful. Thank you.”

Ghost just waved with his hand like it was nothing.

“Don’t say anything and just wear it to keep you safe. Do me that favour.”

You nodded, out of words.

“Well, I’ll be gone then. The forest calls me.” Ghost turned to the door and you started to get up to send him off. “Don’t you dare get up, sister. What’s the point of the Kokoshnik if you fall sick from the cold and exhaustion. No, stay right where you are.”

You fell back onto your spot, the moss blanket encasing you like a cocoon of earthly smell and warmth.

“Save travels then, Ghost.” You spoke. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waved and stepped outside, followed by König.

You sat there, hearing them talk and laugh and wishing each other well without making much out of it.

Then, finally, Ghost was away.

The rest of your day was spent alone with your own thoughts. König, aside from making sure you ate and rested, hardly spoke to you. His distance confused you. It gave a feeling of newfound loneliness when you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling with the wrong knots in the wood and the wrong bedding around you as you leaned against the oven. Ghost’s reassurances just a couple of hours ago now felt like a lie. You were no queen. And there was no way for you to live long enough to ever learn how to be one for König that was good enough. No standing on a box or life saving spells could change that. The finality of your fate was devastatingly simple. You would drown and König, your beloved König, would find himself a better queen. Why else did he withdraw himself like that?

The mauling insecurities inside of you stopped you from asking.

Instead you listened to König rummaging upstairs while you dozed under your moss blanket, practised drawing letters in the ashes of your oven or thought about how you could fix your wedding dress. It was pointless but you had little else to do and so you continued like you had always done.

König had brought the dress out together with the rest of your wet belongings, hanging it up to dry in the sun. The liberating concentration kept you from your dark thoughts: you had watched the dress through the window, mentally placing one piece of rag over the other in the hopes of possibly having a saving idea as the rags swayed gently in the breeze. It had worked until the light grew low and the trees around the house in the garden had started to spawn more unpleasant shadows than welcome distractions.

You got up from your cosy spot and started preparing dinner. Still feeling weak, your legs carried you with a slight tremor as your whole body was plagued by a deep tiredness. It came from all those times not resting. It felt like all those tears not shed. It was a tiredness that wasn’t fixed by sleeping longer one night because it was deeper than the soreness in your muscles and bones. It was the dark abyss of water calling for you. But you could lie to yourself. Opting to go to bed and calling it a day in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Sometimes, giving up was actually a smart thing.

You huffed, once again forced to consider the reality of your situation.

Going to bed? Where? Your bedroom was destroyed. And the other rooms in your house had been packed up and sealed when your family died. Back then it was too much to bear seeing their things and looking at the places they used to rest. Even now, under no condition were you ready or willing to disturb those rooms. The easiest for you would probably be to sleep here in the kitchen.

But what about König? Would he need to sleep too? Flood the rest of the house and destroy every last bit of habitable space as he took you out in your sleep? Or would he leave you tonight and watch as the human-monsters and monsters-monsters finally had their feast with you. The thought nearly entertained you. Maybe that was better than drowning and at least some poor Tschort would enjoy a bit of your precious meat.

You chuckled at your own morbid thoughts.

But it was not night yet, and maybe there was a bit of queenly pride inside of you yet as you decided to brace yourself for an overdue conversation with König, leaning against the kitchen counter for support.

You opted to make some food. Since it might be your last chance to enjoy a meal before you became a meal, you took your time. There was not much to be done for dinner: heating the left-over stew, cutting some bread made of acorn flour, setting the table. After you finished, you steeled yourself for the hardest part.

“König?” You called upstairs. “Would you like to eat dinner with me?”

You held your breath and waited as the rumbling from upstairs stopped.

“It’s fine if you are busy, but I am hungry and would love your company,” You coaxed.

Heavy steps sounded through the wooden house, causing the old stairs to creak under the weight of the Vodyanoy.

König emerged into the kitchen, bowing down slightly under the marginally too low ceiling and looking at you sheepishly.

“Are you sure, Bride?” He asked. “I haven’t finished repairing your room.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, too stunned to speak before you swallowed down a good chunk of your raging insecurities.

“So that’s what you have been doing up there,” You finally said. “I did not know.”

König looked to the ground like he had been caught stealing goodies from the pantry. It was a look that made your knees weaker than even a day facing terrors could.

“I wanted to repair it. I wanted to apologise with more than words. It’s what good kings ought to do.” He explained looking immensely guilty.

Your breath hitched.

He cared?

You looked down, still thinking of your room and your ruined wedding dress. It did hurt you.

But there was hope because he cared. You nearly hated yourself how desperate you were from the affection of someone who you could never have.

“It’s fine,” You said, after a few moments of heavy silence as you fought the storm inside of you. “It’s fine for now. We will make it work and repair it together. It’s, ah, fine.”

He looked relieved as you looked up from your hands.

“I also want to apologise,” You continued. The words in your mouth felt relieving to spit out like bitter medicine. “I thought about this. I was really cross at you. Not entirely sure how much nicer I could have been considering the moment. But I don’t strive to talk to others like that, especially not my fiance. I just felt hurt and alone.”

He turned his head like the Heron when hunting little fish in the water.

“You have every right to be angry, dear,” König stated

“I...” You tried before stopping and starting anew. “That does not mean I am proud or okay with my words. Especially after Ghost explained to me that you probably overworked yourself on my behalf. I am not sure how to feel about that yet but it does not make me feel good. I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I feel so guilty. And like a burden.”

König stared at you.

“Dear,” He said softly. “I know you want to be good and kind. I know you are. But please give me your bad as well.”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

He raised his arms like a man at a loss of word, stumbling around the room until he turned back to you.

“Guess how I feel failing you over and over again when your reaction to me is kindness and surrender? I feel bad. The worst! Don’t do this to me. Be a burden. Be angry. Be the biggest inconvenient person wherever you go. Please be angry and demand better of me! I want all of you. Not just the nice parts.”

Your head was spinning. Was he…? Did he really…?

“I am not good enough!” König continued his tirade with a voice rising louder and louder like a tea kettle that had reached its boiling point. “I am who puts you in danger over and over again. I hardly protect you from the dangers of the world. I am a danger of the world. I am making a poor husband for you. But the reality is, I am not good enough to step away because I am selfish. So, how dare you make yourself feel any less than you are.”

His eyes gleamed with a madness you had never seen before in him as he lowered his voice with the last of his words. It was dangerous. A sign of warning that told you to step back and run as far away as you could like a good girl should.

But you were just invited to leave that behind you.

“I don't want you to leave either!” You hit back, squaring up to the challenge. “I just don’t want to feel like I am a constant problem. I am just a human! A peasant! And a bad one at that since I will likely starve next winter without help! I know nothing of how to be a queen! I nearly drown all the time! How can you not understand that I don’t feel like I am allowed to be a problem when my reality is that no one cares if I live or die!”

“Because you are wrong! I care.” König's eyes gleamed as he hissed his answer.

“Why?” You spit back, the fire in you burning and ready to torch any bridge behind without thinking.

“Because I love you.”

Königs words hung in the air, irretrievable and powerful enough to break whatever you two had.

You looked at him. His face was frozen in fear and panic. Like he had admitted to a crime he’d sworn to keep a secret.

He loved you. The thought raced through your mind, unsure where to be put and what to do with it now.

“I am sorry,” König said. “I understand. I will make sure you are okay as promised anyway and-”

“Please…” you managed to your own surprise.

“Please?” König asked with his eyes shining down at you.

You took a deep breath and all the courage in you that was left, “Please lean down so I can kiss you.”

König looked at you, too stunned maybe or unsure how to touch you without breaking this human body of yours, before finally kneeling down in one, not so smooth, motion. You stumbled forward, colliding into his chest and tangling in his arms before lifting your head and kissing him.

It was all teeth and desperation. König met your lips with a hunger matching yours, and an anger challenging your long hidden fury. He moaned and you wanted every bit of air you could get from him as you roamed his back and shoulders and arms and chest and neck, and at a certain point you got lost in him. You bit his lips and tasted blood. He snarled and pushed you back, catching your head before you could fall and hurt yourself. You stumbled and fell back anyway, taking him with you. The crash rumbled loudly as König caught himself on his arms, hovering above you before continuing where you had left off. His mouth was addicting, and willingly you answered his salty lips and tongue. A bit of revealed skin at his neck here, a tug at your shirt there. You scooted up feeling hot and needing that damn old shirt off your body because you were burning up with it. Instead of getting it off quickly you got yourself tangled in the large sleeves, nearly ready to just tear it off your body as you felt Königs hands pulling at the fabric and freeing you. The kiss of the cooling air on your skin made you still. For a moment you felt shy, making you cross your arms in instinct before your chest.

König looked at you from a position that was something between kneeling, sitting and lying before you, also half out of his clothes with his Rubacha hanging around his neck and head.

“Not sure why I feel like this is new, now.” You admitted. “You have seen me naked before.”

“That was a different nakedness,” König offered and finished getting the shirt off. “This is new.”

You nodded, understanding entirely what he meant, and continued to feel vulnerable. What were you supposed to do? You had no idea what you wanted now except being close to König.

“We don’t have to continue, my love.” Your fiance said.

You nodded again, reassured yet still utterly lost on what to do.

König scooted closer and slowly raised his hands, “Can I touch you? I just want to hold you.”

Instead of bothering with words or another creative and variety serving nod, you leaned into him. Königs warm hands caught you, pressed you closer to him and embraced you.

You hummed.

“Is this good?”

“Yeah, I am sorry-”

“No,” König shut down instantly. “No more ‘sorry’ for you tonight. Or ever. I really meant that.”

You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion.

“But what if I do something bad?” You countered as you enjoyed feeling close to König. “Shouldn’t I say sorry at some point?”

“To me? Always.” König grinned teasingly before growing serious. “The rest of the world, however, has a lot of apologising to do before you ever get back into a situation to be sorry for something, dear.”

“You just want me to be as bad as you are,” You teased back half-heartedly.

“Naturally.”

You stayed silent, not sure what to say or do except enjoying being safe and loved in Königs arms as you mindlessly explored his back and chest with your fingers, drawing little circles and charms into his wonderful skin.

“We should talk about the sleeping situation tonight.” You finally spoke, breaking the silent spell over you.

“Yeah.” König agreed. “I have an idea.”

Cultural Context Notes:

The theme of the unkillable giants as beings connected to nature can be found in the Edda, but it’s not the only place this theme is explored. It’s just the most clear one I thought of, and can be put into words as a place to maybe start researching if your are interested in that. The idea of hitting König as something akin to a giant to wake him up, comes from the tale of Thor and Skrímnir.

Generally, the idea of paralleling gods/godlike beings, humans and giants, escalated into a bit of a philosophical excursion at the kitchen table when I mentioned how the story is unfolding, leading to the question what exactly the difference between godlings, giants and humans is and if there even is one. In plenty of pre-Christian European tales, there aren’t boundaries between godlike beings and humans. If a human stays with a godlike being, they kind of tag along and don’t die like they would have had when staying with their fellow humans. Sometimes there is an explanation for it (godly ancestry, nectar or Idun’s apples, magical blessings), sometimes there isn’t (Thialfi and Röskva as Thor’s entourage, general trope of humans in service of or in marriage with a non-human being).

Warming stones or using ceramics is an old practice when hot water bottles weren’t available.

There are several legends and myths associating the water or waters generally with snakes. Naturally, there is the saga of the Midgard snake, encompassing the world in Norse mythology. The theme of a great water snake or mermaid-like half-fish, half-human body encompassing the world also comes up in Greek mythology in the figure of Oceanos as the great river god and father of river gods. Since we don’t have plenty of sources about old Slavic beliefs, I am taking the liberty and filling some gaps here from geographically closer regions where we do have more sources on mythology.

Acorn is edible and can be made into a fine flour from which it is possible to bake bread. However, do not just make flour from acorns. It’s a huge process to disinfect and debitter acorns before grinding them into flour. There is a reason why nowadays most cultures opt for utilising cultivated crops like grains and legumes instead of using low yield giving nuts and seeds. (Also, we really need those acorns as food for wild animals and for reforestation!) Cultivation of plants is a huge game changer for human life quality and communal living. It’s really cool. But it does require more cooperative systems of labour since harvesting and processing plants like grain requires sharing of work, space to do it, and natural weather & ground conditions to grow. Plus the grain in itself needs to be cultivated first. And these amazing food sources can be exploited by having control over places in which one can grow certain high yielding crops which can trigger war and oppression. Most noticeably in the Central and Eastern European region, which is obviously what I write about a lot, this is the case with Ukraine. This now independent country has good climate and ground conditions, yielding great harvests of wheat grain and sunflower, leading to the region being dubbed the Granary of Europe. Ukraine was fought over not just today but also occupied in historical moments like WW2 by the Nazis or under the Russian Empire precisely to have access to these high yielding conditions. So, food and where food comes from, is an important angle to understand plenty of conflicts, imperial oppression and cultures. I invite you to read more about the history of grain, why Ukraine has a flag literally depicting a grain filed under the blue sky or maybe learning how to make bread yourself. To return to my point: Bride lives in an area which has seasons. However, the climate is cooler with lots of swamps and waters around. The forest takes most of the shore space in her immediate vicinity. She has a garden in which she (tries to) grow buckwheat, a very climate-resistant pseudo grain. And technically she owns fields, but has no way to work them on her own due to the lack of manpower, possible lack of seeds, as well as timing issues for the sowing. But common grains like wheat require a warm and steady dry climate which is not the case here. Other grains like rye are historically common in Central and Eastern Europe, however one needs to plant them first and after the harvest it still requires labour to dry and deshell the rye first, a luxury that Bride does not have because she has been on her own for most of the year. So, to finish this long excursion on grains and flours - she uses acorn flour for bread because she was isolated and on her own. Also, agriculture is really cool and maybe you will think about the amount of labour, logistics, politics and historical development when biting into something flour based.

Vodyanitza is just the female version of Vodynoy

Rubacha is the name of the traditional linen shirt worn by historically both men and women but nowadays mostly associated with male clothing traditions. This shirt is often loosely fitted and bound at the hip with a belt. Having embroidery, especially red embroidery on a Rubacha is very common as red natural dye was widely available in the region. The embroidery and introduction of other colours is dependent on the exact time and place a Rubacha comes from. Even nowadays the Rubacha is part of plenty of Eastern European traditional dresses.

Quick reminder: a Tschort is a type of evil spirit.

Would you like to be tagged as well? send me a message.

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @fatedeniedhope @queensidillasworld @agspgrwasb @silelda @unlikepoltergeist @matcha-flavored-cake @blvkwondaland @diamondnightdreamer @brooklyn-1918 @thorns-x @icepancakes @sizzlingsaladpeach @peachymonsters @blackrockshooter780 @cl3rks @king-thunderstorm @hosshihusshi @id0nthaveidea @perilous-pasta @lothiriel9 @berryjuicyy @asmohunny @amatis-gray @blubumblebee @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @c00kied0ugh44 @quesowakanda @moonlitmoonpie @ktmjoslin @globalmilk03 @interactive-brain @dark-rosy-amaranthine @quietlyignoringyou @hey-assbutt35

#grimmwriting #he who comes from under the water #hwcfutw #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty 3 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #leshy #monster!au #monster!König #vodyanoy #vodyanoy!König

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sandinthemachine · 1 year

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Chilling Rapture

Part 2 of Deadly Nightshade, a monster!König au.

Part 1

Masterlist

I actually had so much fun finishing this one, my power went out and I had to handwrite it by candlelight until my wifi came back on, hopefully it's strong enough to post this now because the lights keep flickering.

I also have a draft sketch of the map so hopefully that can come soon as well.

For those interested, the songs at the beginning will sometimes be chosen for a little bonus foreshadowing. There's also a Shirley Jackson reference in this one for any classic horror fans out there. Hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: nothing serious yet (lemme know if I missed anything)

Word count: 3,313

There's someone walking over my grave For a sudden shiver is making its way Creeping over me, coursing down my spine And taking over this body of mine I can feel it in the depths of my being A chill of the blood, an ominous feeling -"Walking Over My Grave" by Blackbriar

It is a quiet kind of night.

No. To say it is quiet does not do it nearly the kind of justice it deserves, nor does it stir up the emotions such a night as this has urged forward, deep in the pit of your stomach where your dinner still sits heavily.

Quiet ushers forth a peaceful kind of relaxation wholly unlike the thick black tar rising up your back.

Silent perhaps is closer, only insofar as the word conjures in you the hopeless repetition of the phrase silent as the grave.

You find every warning and caution drifting through your head as you shift in the bed, but where you would expect fear you feel only an anticipation, strangely dissonant with the weariness of your body.

Where are the birds? Where are the whales? Why hasn’t there been a single gust of wind?

The sea, in clear view of the window when the curtains are open, is soundless. How is that even possible? It is as if some strange god has thrown a great smothering blanket over the entire island, trapping each tiny soul in the silence below. Like flies in honey.

You can’t even hear the blood rushing in your ears.

You find yourself staring at the window curtains, their blackness somehow darker than the shadows around them.

With no notion of why or even how, you find your legs swinging over the bed very much of their own accord, carrying you to those curtains, and behind you the soundless void presses in, a great wave bearing you forward, and you think perhaps you could open this window, let it carry you right to the ocean itself and down below, for surely then you’d hear something, even if it was your own splash before you were dragged below.

You brush the thought aside with a quiet resignation. You will open the window, you think. But only to hear the water.

The curtain fabric brushes velvety soft over your fingers as you push them aside, ears perked to hear a shuffling of fabric, a metal scrape of rings over curtain rods, but neither sound ever comes.

You pause at the drawn curtains, staring at what you know to be the window. It is completely indistinguishable from the darkness of the walls and the curtains, such that you find yourself raising a hand, pressing a palm into the cool glass to make sure it’s there. But when you remove your hand it is as if the window once again vanishes, leaving you staring blankly, eyes nearly burning in their hopeless struggle to see.

You feel strangely dizzy all at once, as if gravity is shifting, pulling at the air around your face, warping the flooring beneath your feet, tilting the walls in hopelessly contrived angles you can’t possibly see in this crushing dark. You could be upside down now, walking on the ceiling with no idea. Perhaps there is no ceiling at all and you are stepping straight up the walls and soon you will step off and fall sideways for an eternity and you will never even see the ground flying by you. Or maybe you will keep walking right up into the sky, only all the stars are gone and you’ll never know the cool mist is clouds wrapping around you as you climb for the rest of eternity.

You shake your head.

Why are you here again?

You suddenly get the overwhelmingly primal feeling that something is watching you, something carved from the darkness itself with no need for eyes or ears, stalking up to you, and you will never see or hear it, you’ll only know it’s there the second it reaches through the window and claws sink into your ribs, grabbing at the heart whose frantic beating it senses like a beacon in the night and…

You yank the curtains closed, stumbling backwards. The need to gasp briefly possesses you, but your throat tightens against your will, cutting off even that sound in a mocking kind of rage.

My quiet, a thousand thoughts chant through your head. My quiet, my darkness, my place, mine mine mine.

And you, who are you to break the silence of this night that doesn’t belong to you?

Your heart stuttering and flapping against your chest, you fall back into bed, tucking your legs up against your chest so tightly you feel it in your lungs.

You bury your face in your knees, swallow a sob.

And try desperately to sleep.

You finally shift again, dragging your head upward as a sluggish grey takes over the room, shoving the shadows further and further into the corners. You stare at your bare shins as the light hits them, a single finger tracing delicately over deep blue-black. You hover your hands over the outlines with a detached kind of contemplation, fingers stretching back into place, perfectly aligning with the rounded shapes.

You hadn’t felt it last night.

Best not to think about that, actually. You let your eyes drift back to the window curtains, fitting your lower lip between your teeth as you take in their limp form.

Right now, stained by the leaden rays of another grey dawn, they’re just curtains. Old and decrepit, with a fraying bottom corner and a coffee stain along one edge. Beyond them is a dusty window, and a view to a monotonously dark sea.

Nothing more.

Never anything more.

The walk to the kitchen is uneventful, the shadows thin and cowardly. A persistent chill worms its way up your neck, but even that gives up when you pull a blanket around yourself, tucking it over your head like a fluffy oversized hoodie.

When you were little, you and your mother always used to bundle up like this, huddled on the couch on cold winter nights as you begged your father to hurry up and restart the fire, please, I’ll freeze solid this instant if you don’t.

Be a lot less complaining around here if you did. And he’d grin at your indignant face, winking over at your uncle in the armchair as they both chuckled.

He’d always pull out extra blankets afterwards, though.

With a loud gulp, you pull the blanket tighter around you.

You should write to your uncle. Yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, you know you packed stamps and envelopes and...

Damn.

You forgot to pack a pen.

It’s fine, that’s an easy enough thing to find.

In any other house, that is. For the more you search, the more you realize just how little this place has. One floor of cramped rooms smelling of dust, dust, and more dust. A tiny office with an empty desk. Even stranger, atop the desk, atop every surface, actually, are no clear patches, no thinner patches of the dusty coating to indicate that anything had ever been on top of them. Did your uncle have any stuff? Or was he really just content with this place as it was?

You begin to wonder if he ever really lived here at all, or if maybe this is some kind of cruel prank the world is playing on you, sending you to this decrepit old cottage on a tiny island in the middle of nowhere with no friends and nothing to-

Elisha. Probably not a friend. Yet. You’d met her once, after all. But maybe friendly enough to give you a pen. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

You try not to dwell on that question as you throw on some warmer layers and shove past the front door.

Immediately you’re greeted by a frenzy of your own coughing as the acrid tang of cigarette smoke floods your lungs.

What the hell?

You spin all around, scanning your yard, but of course the only one here is you. As you walk forward, the smell quickly fades, and you decide that’s a problem for another time. For all you know, it won’t ever happen again, anyway.

Elisha’s house shows no signs of life, so you knock on her neighbor’s door instead. Almost immediately the rickety door swings open to reveal a stout old man glowering at you past a crooked hooked nose.

You stutter out a hello, earning nothing but an eyebrow raise. “I…uh, well, I just moved in down there and, anyway I just came by to ask Elisha for a pen but it doesn’t seem like she’s…home.”

You trail off as he marches past you, right up to shake Elisha’s poor door with a trio of hard knocks. “New one’s here!” he yells out, not even listening for a reply before picking his way back to his own porch, giving you a wide berth. “She’ll be down in a minute.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He pauses in the doorway, regarding you for a moment before giving a quick nod. With that, he disappears back inside.

A little creak pulls your attention back to Elisha’s door just as her head pokes out of it. “Oh, sweetie, what are you doing standing out in the cold?” She gestures frantically. “In, in!”

With nothing better to do, you oblige.

Her cottage is as small as yours, but that’s where the resemblance ends. A warm fire blazes in the fireplace, combining with the soft light of a couple candles to cast the entire living room in a comforting orange glow. There’s no hint of dust to be found, only soft chairs and a couch covered in extra pillows and fuzzy blankets. Dark blues and emerald greens. An oil painting of a salt marsh hangs above the fire place. Peaceful. Full of sunlight. You take a deep breath, sighing. Woodsmoke and vanilla. Fresh coffee. A hint of ocean salt.

She’s watching, you now realize, heat flushing through your cheeks as you glance at the floor. Even the carpet looks soft. “I…I was actually just stopping by to ask if you have a pen.”

She smiles softly. “Of course, dear.” She moves to the counter, deftly plucking one from a hand-painted mug before pausing. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, ma’am.” The carpet is the perfect shade of green.

“You had better stay, then. I just made fresh rolls, I have plenty of extra.” She tucks the pen into her pocket.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t.” There’s a faded spot in front of the fire. Does she have a cat?”

“Really, it would be my pleasure.”

“I have to get b-”

A hand taps on your shoulder and you jump, finally looking up again. Something warm presses against your sternum, and you glance down. Tea. Your fingers curl around it hesitantly, the weight of it somehow unfamiliar in your stiff hands.

Elisha was just talking. You glance up, trying to force a smile. “Sorry?”

She only sighs. “Couldn’t sleep, could ya?”

Your eyes drift back to the mug, taking in the little gold stars painted along the rim. Their edges begin to blur, and you blink, a little too fast, shake your head even faster. The walls feel cramped again.

“Hey, hey.” Bony fingers wrap around yours, gently pulling you forward, and a hand is on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the couch. You let yourself sink down, barely noticing Elisha walk away until she’s back and a plate of warm food is being placed in your lap. Your eyes are wider now, burning just a little as you look up at her. She’s already turned away, though, swiping a book up from a side table and curling in an armchair to read.

Tentatively your fingers close around a roll, guiding it to your mouth as the smell floods through your brain.

You’re sure Elisha’s cooking is lovely, but you regret to admit the food is gone before you’ve even tasted it, the crumbs cleaned from the plate with careful fingers, the tea drank in great desperate sips and embarrassingly loud swallows.

You smile at the bottom of the mug now, counting the gold constellations dancing along it. There are dozens of little stars stretching across the inky blue, the gold paint twinkling gleefully as you tilt it this way and that. How did someone paint so many so neatly? Did they have a stamp, maybe? A really long brush and a steady hand? When was the last time you painted?

You push the thought away, glancing up at Elisha. She’s on a new book now, eyes wide and focused.

“Who’s the man next door?”

She jumps a little, eyes a bit wild as they focus on you again. “Hm? Oh.” She laughs. “He scare ya? Don’t worry, George is harmless. Just not a morning person. Runs in the family, I guess.” She holds her palm over her mouth to cover a big yawn.

You giggle, and she raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, guess I didn’t see the resemblance.”

She laughs. “What, the eyebrows weren’t a dead giveaway?”

“Everyone here has the same eyebrows.”

She snorts, slapping her palm over her mouth with wide eyes before you both burst out laughing. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” she wheezes between laughs.

“It’s true, though!”

She rubs her eyes, shaking her head with a grin still plastered across her face. “Oh, dear me. You met Martin yet?”

“No.”

“Now there’s a set of eyebrows.”

You quickly lose track of time as the pair of you sit there, her happily describing in detail all the people on the island. And, of course, their eyebrows. The ferryman is Francis (the alliteration makes you smile). He doesn’t live here, but everyone knows him anyway. You learn her brother’s name is John, but that was their father’s name, so everyone calls him Jack. He doesn’t talk much in the mornings, but he sings in the town bar some nights. The man at the general store you met yesterday is Ed. He’s ‘a grouchy old eyesore,’ apparently. But Elisha had smiled as she said it.

Eventually she trails off, her eyes shifting to the window. “It’s probably time you headed back.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before you realize she’s right. The fire is long dead, and the candles flickered out hours ago. Without their light, it’s easy to see the grey outdoors steadily fading to black once again.

Elisha walks you out the door, hovering on her porch. “You come back here if you need anything, you understand?”

You nod dutifully. “Of course.”

“Oh! Almost left without this.” She fishes the pen out of her pocket, stuffing it into your hands.

“Right, yeah. And…Elisha, thank you…for today.” You gesture vaguely, not sure what else to say, but she only smiles softly, giving you one last nod.

You start down the steps and pause, eyes settling on her brother’s porch. He sits in his rickety old chair, eyes fixed on the distance. Smoking a cigarette.

“Um, Elisha?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Could you tell your brother to be careful when he smokes? I think the wind blew some of it my way this morning, and my lungs can’t really take that.”

She stares at you for a long moment, head tilting slightly. “There wasn’t any wind this morning, dear.”

“Oh.” You swallow, shaking your head. “Never…mind.”

With one last look back at her brother, you head home.

Something feels…off. Your heartbeat picked up as soon as you entered the driveway, and now the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Your hand hovers over the doorknob, trembling slightly.

You glance back.

Nothing. A little bird hops across the lawn. It freezes, shaking slightly as it looks at you, before flying away with a squawk.

Your hand tightens around the handle, wrist turning very carefully, opening the door.

A bellowing howl echoes across the marsh.

You leap through the door, slamming it behind you. Your hands shake as they grab at the lock, slipping and sliding off it before it finally clicks into place and you back away, stumbling and barely catching yourself.

You rush over to your bag, flinging it to the side as you throw the closet open, fingers curling tightly around the old bat. You flick it upwards, relishing in its comforting weight as you clutch it to your chest.

THUNK.

You leap backwards as something heavy crashes against your bedroom window.

Did the house shake, too? Or was that your imagination?

Did the curtains quiver just now? Or was that you?

A tiny croak sounds through the window, and you gasp, taking a step closer. Another strangled sound breaks the silence, garbled and unintelligible. Your eyes narrow as you press your ears against the wall, the little sounds continuing.

Carefully you pick your way to the door, the bat resting over one shoulder. You open it just a crack, poking your head out. Nothing. You slide out of it sideways, crouching low as you work your way around the house, eyes fixating on every shadow lengthening and waving in the rapidly dimming light.

You turn, the corner, raising up the bat.

A raven lays twitching on the ground below the window.

Your shoulders slouch, letting the weapon drag along the ground. Slowly, you approach the struggling bird, taking in its pitifully flapping wings as it lays on its back, legs kicking uselessly upwards.

“Oh, you poor thing.”

Gingerly you kneel in front of it, laying the bat aside as you gather it into your arms.

A hulking black shadow gallops across the yard, disappearing into the thick bushes with a crash.

You snatch the bat and sprint inside.

The bird doesn’t seem hurt. Its wings stretch and bend fine as they flap weakly against you, and its legs are shaky but not broken. Only its eyes betray it, flickering wildly around as frantic pants shake its entire body. You cradle its limp head, quietly shushing its cries as you hold a glass of water against its beak. It shudders, throwing its head back before swallowing. Gradually its head tilts, and it stretches its neck forward again for another long drink.

“There you go, that’s it,” you soothe, laying it on the floor with the water as you pull down a blanket, tucking it around the bird. It shudders, fluffing up its feathers before settling in, tucking its head under a wing.

You can’t help but smile at that.

With one last glance at the window, you climb into bed, bat still in hand, and try to sleep.

A raucous squawk yanks you from consciousness, followed by a crash.

“What the…oh, no.”

You leap out of bed, dashing into the kitchen to find the raven dragging a shiny pan across the floor.

“Hey, nonono, not yours.”

It squawks belligerently, hopping backwards with a glare.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Fine, then.” You pick your way around the disgruntled bird so you can pull out the can of tomatoes. “Trade?”

The bird tilts its head expectantly, letting the pan’s handle fall to the floor with a twang. You nod and fish out a tomato, dropping to a crouch to proffer it. The little devil eagerly hops forwards, snatching the food from your grasp and ripping it to pieces, spreading tomato guts all over your floor before happily taking a couple more from you.

You straighten again, regarding the bird with a discerning look. “Yeah, I think you’ll be just fine, buddy.”

You slide the jar back onto the counter and open the door with a sweeping gesture, smiling as the bird croaks joyfully, catapulting itself through the doorway and whirling in the air. You skip around the house after it, watching it whirl higher and higher before diving down into the trees and brush of the swamp.

Maybe being here won’t be so bad, after all.

But as you turn to head back inside, your entire body stiffens.

Carved into the dirt beneath your bedroom window…is a single massive footprint.

taglist: @die-prophetin, @fatedeniedhope, @kakashiislut, @lirinchi

to be added to the taglist, comment. This taglist is separate from my main taglist, so if you want to be added to the main taglist as well, please specify that. Thank you :)

#oh god tags uhh #monster!könig #monster fucker #könig #könig x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #horror #folklore

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the-froschamethyst4 · 2 months

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Tentacles Pt:2

𖤐Pairing: Octopus! König x Witch! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Pt1: tentacles

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, P in V, tentacle play, kinky, bondage, eating out, pinching, biting, boob grabbing, ass grabbing, nipple play, slight choking, teasing, mouth work, obsession, in heat, non-verbal König, masturbation, public sex,

𖤐Summary: Familiar König is in heat, here is all the times he has fucked his witch

————

It's been a few months now, König and Y/n would fuck...and I mean FUCK!

König has Y/n bent over her counter, she had closed her shop early because of König going into heat. König has been in heat for a week now.

Y/n grips the counter her nail digging into the dark oak wood counter. König threw his head back as skin was slapping against each other. Y/n's soft moans filled her shop.

Y/n also hasn't talked to Soap since the day he came to the door to apologized to her.

König's nails dug into her waist. His tentacles moving from her waist, her shoulders and around her neck. She tries to moan but his grip around her neck tightened.

She was trying to breath but his grip tightens even more. Her right hand grabs at his tentacles and she sounded like she was choking now. Then both of her hands reach for his tentacles trying to pry his tentacles off her neck.

"K-K-König!" She yells. His eyes watched as her face was going a bit red and he releases her neck, she leans forward and starts to cough. He stops his sloppy thrusts.

"I-I'm fine," she chokes out. She puts her hand on his lower stomach to make him stop. He pulls out of her and comes around the front to check on her, he didn't mean to hurt her.

Click, click, c-click

"I'm fine, King, I promise, I'm fine, you were just a little excited," she puts her hand under his chin.

---------

Days and days König would find a way to fuck Y/n to overcome his sexual needs. Y/n was bouncing on him, his hands on her ass squeezing her and smacking her any chance he gets. She moans when feeling the slight sting on her ass.

"K-König!" She moans, tossing her head back, his hands moved to her waist to guide her and his tentacles all over her squeezing her, suctioning to her. Two were perfectly around her breasts squeezing and the tip of them flicking her nipples earning a soft moan from her.

One around her thigh, squeezing them. Then another one resting on her ass.

She tosses her head back and moaned before coming on him, he groans bucking his hips up and coming inside on her. She moved off him to watch the cum drip from her lower half onto his dick.

He picks her up making her rest on the bed, his tentacles still on her and his hands squeezing her perfect body. He lifts the shirt over his face and kissed her stomach, chest, neck and then lips.

--------

König was on his back pumping himself in his hand. Y/n was out at the market leaving him behind to watch over the shop and house, but he grew bored and grew very horny out of nowhere.

He lays on his back on Y/n's bed, pumping himself quickly thinking about Y/n, thinking about her body, her pussy lips how they go around him when he fucks her.

He groans when he thinks about Y/n's mouth wrapped around his dick, giving him head.

"King?" He stops for a moment but started up his pace again when he was caught touching himself.

Y/n drops her little tote bag and walked towards him stripping from her dress and crawling on the bed, kissing his tip but then crawling on top of him, swatting his hand away from his dick and slowly sitting on him.

Bouncing on him and he moans when feeling her. His tentacles reached out for her. She takes one wrapping it around her hand and gently touching him, she takes another one and licks it and then licking another one.

He groans and then feels himself about to cum inside of her. Y/n moans when feeling his cum shoot inside of her.

"Aww, König," she coos.

---------

Y/n leaned over the counter giving a potion to a lady, Y/n's dress was short and exposed her cute little panties. König was behind her in his salt water tank as his little flapjack octopus-self.

He was attached to the tank glass wall tentacles out on display as he wanted her right now and she was teasing him.

"Your octopus is weird," the lady says as Y/n looks over her shoulder smiling at König.

"He is pretty weird," she says, facing the woman again before she left, Y/n heard some splashing behind her, she knew König was behind her, she then was pushed against her counter, her skirt up on her hips and her panties were pulled down to her ankles and she felt him slip inside of her.

"Ah!" She moans as he was thrusting into her, his tentacles went under her chest squeezing her breasts and flicking and pinching her nipples.

"Fuck...k-keep going," she moans out.

König then drop to his knees and licks between her folds, his tentacles held her thighs as her door opens.

She hides her moans and greets the woman that came in, she comes to the counter.

"Y/n it's been a while, how is everything?"

"G-Good...what can I do you for?" Y/n asks. Biting her bottom lip and feeling König shove one of his tentacles inside, making her moan but she cut it off.

"AHH~ Yes, I can make that," she says with an awkward smile.

"Y/n are you okay? Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm f-feeling just peachy," she smiles.

"Where's König? Is he under your shirt again?" Everyone knows about König's favorite spot being under Y/n's shirt.

"No, he's a-around here somewhere-AHH~" Y/n ended up coming on König's tentacle.

"Y/n?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she smiles.

The lady leaves and König pops up from under the counter and his tentacles touch her and caressing her.

"You naughty, octopus."

----------

Y/n held König in her hands as they walked along the beach, this was König's first time back at the beach when Y/n had found him.

He looks at the water and moves off of Y/n's hand and runs to the water, Y/n walks to the edge squinting down letting the water lap at her ankles.

König would go limp and let the water carry him back to Y/n. She smiles at him picking him up from the water and then placing him back into the water.

König turned into his human-self sitting in the water, she smiles and walks into the water with him, sitting on his lap letting the water soak her dress.

She kisses him and his hand cups her face deepening the kiss. His hands pushed her dress up and then pulled her panties to the side and guides her to sit on him.

This time it was fast and rough like usual it was soft and slow. He was gentle trying to take his time with Y/n, hearing her moans and appreciate them.

"You're so gentle," she says as she starts to slowly grind on him.

"I-I want you t-to feel g-good!" König stutters. König doesn't speak, he clicks as his communication and Y/n has learned it to understand him better. Of course it shocked Y/n when hearing him talk for the first time.

"You already do that," she says, cupping his face and kissing him.

----------

König sat on his favorite place, Y/n's tit. Y/n was giving out some potions to customers and helping customers pick out the right potions for them.

And König was sitting under Y/n's shirt playing with her nipple. She smacked him a couple times to stop, so she could focus and not draw attention to the little lump under her shirt.

König clicks a few times before Y/n digs in her shirt pulling him out, making him let go of her tit. She groans and holds him in her hand.

He tries to quickly move back under Y/n's shirt but she quickly grabs him again and placed him back in his tank behind the counter. She could hear him click and she turns seeing him pout.

"You big baby," she says, turning back around to face her store.

König swims under a little rock cave. Pouting and clicking as he watched Y/n. He loved watching Y/n work but he wants to be close to her.

Her shop door opened and a man came in. It wasn't odd for a man to come in here but Y/n's shop was mainly for women. She greets the man like every other customer, giving him a soft smile as she stalks the shelves.

"Hey, I'm looking for," he pulls out a list. "Newt's eye, cherry blossom petals, dill, lavender, and I also need eel brain."

"Okay, yep just give me a few minutes," Y/n says, König keeps an eye on the man. The man was walking around picking up a raven skull and tucking it into his pocket.

König swims out of his cave and sticks to the tanks glass wall watching him closely again. He picks up a glass jar of an embryo of a baby bird, stuffing it back into his pocket.

König starts climbing up the glass wall and drops to the floor turning into his human body. He stalks towards the guy, his body towered over him, the man slowly turns when feeling this darkness consume him.

König picks the man up by his collar and turns him upside down shaking him making him drop everything he stole from Y/n. She turns seeing König shaking him.

"König!" He drops him and the man runs out the store. Y/n sees all the things that belonged in her store. "Oh...thank you, König," she says.

He clicks before turning into the small octopus form and climbing back into his tank. Y/n walks to his tank dipping her hand into his tank. Catching his attention, he swims to her hand sticking to her hand and she pulls her hand out.

"Thank you," she kisses his head and he made himself comfortable back under her shirt.

----------

Y/n lays on her stomach on her bed, her ankles crossed as she was reading glasses on her face and her hair in a messy bun, and where was König?

Making himself comfortable on her butt, her oversized t-shirt was on her lower back and her panties were a bit showy. König's tentacles were bouncing Y/n's butt.

His suction cups sticking to her butt and unsticking from her butt causing a slight bounce/jiggle. Y/n didn't care as long as he was entertained and wasn't causing any problems.

König turned into his human form and he used his knees to open her legs up, he flips her on her back and pulled her panties down. Y/n was still reading her spell book, as König lifted his mask and his tentacles stuck to her thighs, waist and one swirling around her pussy lips and then slowly pushing inside of her.

She let's out a soft moan, her hips buck up. König lifts his mask and nibbles at her clit. She moans and drops her book to her chest, she watches him and watches how gentle he was with her.

Her head went back into her pillow and her thighs wanted to close but König was keeping them open.

"K-König," she moans.

"A-Am I doing it r-right?" He asks.

"Just p-perfect," she moans.

He keeps going and Y/n felt her tummy start to knot up, she moans and ended up coming on his tongue he licks it up and then licks her clean.

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