validinsanity

[validinsanity]

Everyone who knew Horangi warned him that he wouldn’t live long if he kept living the way he did. Of course, their lecturing had never stopped him.

Horangi pulled prank on König, and it backfired.

Read on AO3

other people’s inspiration: great poetry, good old song, greek art- my inspiration:

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based on that 1 leyendecker painting (you know the one)

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baby capybara named Tupi via san antonio zoo

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To be seen

Hey everyone! i need some help with this piece :3c Im not sure how to continue it any suggestions or what would yall enjoy?

summary:

Konig struggles with people. Horangi wants to spend time with konig

they fall in love

He’d always been like this—for as long as he could remember. No amount of training or punishment could fix him.  

At first, as a small boy, it had been considered cute and adults paid no mind. Children flapped their hands and made cute little noises when excited. It wasn’t until one day at seven years old he’d been playing with a toy car that his mother had called attention to his odd behavior. 

He’d been flapping his arms in joy of his little car having been the winner of his imaginary race, when his mother had suddenly grabbed his arms and pinned them down. König’s heart had leaped in fear having been handled so abruptly. He squirmed, confused, as she scolded him: Act your age! Stop this weird habit. 

He’d cried, not understanding what he’d done wrong. 

After that, he’d tried to stop—whatever it was that had upset her. He hid during his playtime. Away from prying eyes his little body just had so much fun it let out these involuntary movements or sounds. Cooing or hopping around in excitement. He just couldn’t help it. 

His parents had done their best to curb his fidgeting and disruptive behavior. At first it was small little reminders or writing out multiple Hail Mary’s to quell the endless need to release the energy. Then when nothing had worked it led to more drastic measures. 

His mother began to tie his fingers together to keep them still, muttering that his endless twitching was the work of the devil. He had to overcome! His father had him simply sit on his hands for hours until his hands had gone numb. 

Then came the whispers. 

His mother and her friends would talk about him: Surely by now he would have grown out of this? He must be acting out! Is he simple? From then on he knew there was something wrong with him.

From then on, he’d done his best to avoid adult’s stares. Entering grade school kids picked up on his oddities as well. Fueled by their parent’s whispers, he started to feel his classmate’s ire. They mocked him for looking at their shoes when he talked. Picking on him for not being able to look at them at all at times. 

He’d tried to explain. The strange feeling he got when looking at faces. The skin-crawling anxiety that crept up when he had to talk to strangers or solve a problem at the front of the class. Being miserable when people asked him to partake in group activities. 

It made no difference. 

To everyone König was just weird. 

Different and wrong in his peer’s eyes. 

So he adapted. As he grew older he learned to mask what made him different.To hide himself from prying eyes. 

Joining the military had been his saving grace. There he’d managed to get a clear structure of everyday life. Clear rules, routines, predictability that eased his anxiety of not fitting in. In uniform he was like everyone else. He followed orders and kept in line.

He rose through the ranks faster than anyone had expected, surpassing his peers in disciple, strategy, and focus. That’s how Kortac found him. 

On paper he was a machine. Task focus, obedient, a tool to be pointed at an enemy without care. A master strategist and trained killer. His reputation had landed him in high regard. 

Now, as one of the top strategists for Kortac, he was seen as only König. Nothing less—but nothing more either. The small boy who was frightened of people now stood tall among his peers. Easily one of the most deadliest contractors in Kortac—an apex predator on the battlefield.  

A king of his craft. No longer a man. A beast. 

Something he never realized until another beast started hunting him. 

“SCHEISSE! HORANGI!” 

The Korean just laughed as he jumped out from behind König’s office door. König wasn’t sure when their odd companionship had started, but he wasn’t about to complain. After years of bullying and then focusing in his adulthood on the military, König had never learned how to make… friends. 

Even now, he wasn’t sure what Horangi and he had going on.

They drank together. After missions Horangi would drag him into card games, talk tactics, maybe trade stories. Not much more than coworkers, really. 

But how König wished it was more. 

With a flick of his wrist, he snapped a paperclip at Horani’s exposed forehead and flipped him off for good measure.  

“Asshole! Why do you carry so many of these shits?! Your a fucking walking office supply room!” Horangi grumbled, rubbing the spot. “I swear I find ‘em in our washing machines!” 

He was probably right. König always kept paperclips in his pockets. If he couldn’t pick at his nails or skin, he needed something to fiddle with. Something he could hide. Something they couldn’t take away. 

“What do you want, Horangi.” he asked, moving over to his desk and dropping the latest reports. As much as he enjoyed the man’s presence, he had work to do. König reached for the folder, not missing the way Horangi dropped into the chair across his desk like he owned the place. 

“Don't tell me you're actually going to work on that crap,” Horangi said, pushing his shades up, squinting at the dense reports. “It’s not due till ten days out and we’ve got mandatory leave for a week anyway ‘cause the last damn mission was a bust.” 

König grunted. “Unlike you, I don’t want to leave things to the last minute to finish them.” 

“Huh. That’s a shame. You know, I was thinking—” 

“Gott help us all.” 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP. I was thinking we should go out! Team’s hitting that bar near base. You should come.” 

König paused. Refusing to look up, he asked “Why?” 

Everyone on base knew he wasn’t very sociable. Most gave him a wide berth. The few times he’d joined the team for drinks or outings, he’d floundered—unsure what to say or how to behave. 

Faced with so many people all from different creeds he struggled to find common ground with anyone. Too many faces. Too many accents. Too many subtle cues he didn’t understand. Just expectations he couldn’t meet.  

He remembered his early days at Kortac: stiff posture, overly formal speech, no eye contact— it was as if he was back in grade school all over again. Without the buffer of command or orders he was making enemies of his team rather than merging in.

It wasn’t until Horangi had all but dragged him out yelling “TIME TO MET EVERYONE!” that he’d stumbled through his first outing with Kortac. That night, Horangi had acted like a human shield. Standing between König and the others, intercepting conversations and deflecting attention. It had felt as if he had intentionally put himself as a wall to be able to still be present but not forced to speak to everyone. König had been silently grateful—but also furious. 

It had left him reeling at the time with how insightful Horangi had been to his discomfort. Even more so, it had left him angry that after years of battling himself— he could still not be normal. 

König could command a whole platoon, snarl orders, present his mission reports without a single stutter—yet when faced to sit with strangers and expected to just be… Every facial expression on display, all body language meant to convey some kind of message that he didn’t understand, secret or double meanings to words that everyone else just knew but him! It infuriated him to no end! 

He hated that he wasn’t normal. 

“I wanna go out and it would be great to spend time with yea outside of these four walls.” Horangi leaned back on his chair, tipping it. “We should—” 

“No, thank you.” he did not feel the need to feel humiliated again. 

“헐! Come on! There’s gotta be something you wanna do out of here!” He grumbled as he slammed down his chair crossing his arms like a sulking child. 

König did not want to disappoint him. He did want to spend time with Horangi. But a bar full of strangers…being in a crowded bar with people he did not have any interest in was unbearable. 

The urge to pick at his skin was creeping in. His fingers twitched. He did not want to promise Horangi something he could not do. 

Suggesting something outside of the base was not undoable…

“H-Hong-jin…I-” König swallowed hard, trying to steady his resolve. “Would you join me…on a holiday?” 

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🐯🕶️

找到了很合适的动作，摸一下

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Horangi + König

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Porcelain art by Nguyễn Duy Mạnh, 2021-22.

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Take me back (Castro Street Fair, San Francisco)

Photographs by Crawford Wayne Barton, courtesy of the GLBT Historical Society

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and post-MW3 Soap coming back wrong for LeoandLancer... thank you always 💔💀

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I want to finish this damn fanfic I've had in my drafts for the past months but for some reason I cant figure out where to finish it

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This is old

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This is old

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part 4

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