#ghostkonig

Fight Me

GhostKonig

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It’s my birthday so I’ve treated myself a little piece of KonigGhost!

Cod stans: whY dO PeOplE ShIp GhOstKonIg???1? They r enemies!!!1’

*Cod stans at the same time shipping ghoap and pricegaz even though itd be against military rules because its insubordination*

Like ??? Yall r not very bright.

You can just say you dont like the ship without coming up with dumb reasons to not like it. Bc at the same time yall r legit bullying people for creating ghostkonig renders, fanfic and fanart. Wtf kind of fandom does this???

Somehow all of you have forgotten that enemies to lovers exist. that WRITING a story revolving around enemies exist!!! Like have u forgotten tropes???

Hey! I’ve got more medieval/fantasy COD au stuff coming and I hope y’all are excitedddddd

I swear I’m so normal about them

(meanwhile)

König speaking German is saying "I am head over heels in love with you. My heart is all yours". (he was hoping for "haha, what does it mean" ://)

König wasn’t the best at socialising. He had never really gotten the chance to improve his social skills. He had gone from being isolated and bullied in his early life to being isolated and denied what he wanted to do in his military life. He was ridiculed for hiding, he was ridiculed for being big. He was called a ‘mountain’. ‘Psychopath’. ‘Scary‘.

He had grown used to the feeling of being alone so much that he no longer knew how to talk to people. He knew more how to talk to himself. He was horrible in conversations. He had no military ‘bros’ that he could chat to. Talking in a group was a chore that left him tired and defeated.

This was until he met Ghost. Well, he didn’t really meet Ghost. They passed each other, they trained a few times, they barely spoke. Ghost seemed to be the closest kind of person to König that he had ever found. He, like himself, would stand away from a crowd and listen, only speaking when he needed to.

In the base, both of them seemed to have found the same special quiet place. A place were the rest of the soldiers seldom went, and if they went they were quiet. This place was the Chapel.

König wasn’t a religious man, and Ghost didn’t seem to pray or talk to any gods. It was just a place of peace for them. Ghost would sit there sharpening his weapons or inspecting clothing, seemingly as a calming method. König would do the same. Sometimes they’d look over to watch what the other was doing from afar. They never spoke.

One day, when König was reading a book about weapons, in a chapter on sniper mechanics - his hyperfixation - Ghost came and sat on the floor right in front of him. König looked up from his book and closed it, keeping one of his fingers in as a bookmark.

“You heard of something called ‘parallel play’?”

“Nein. I haven’t.”

“The others talk too much, and you seem rather lonely. ‘Parallel play’ is where two people do different things in each other’s presence. It’s like… socialising without socialising. I find it comforting.”

König had no clue why Ghost was suddenly talking so much to him. Maybe his silence had earned the man’s respect. Or pity…

“So you’re suggesting we do this- parallel play?”

Ghost nodded, shuffled backwards, and pulled out one of his knives. König watched awkwardly as Ghost focussed on methodically sharpening, polishing, and inspecting each of his knives. He recognised the kind of knife from his book, so flicked to the page.

“The adoption of combat daggers made of iron was a significant milestone in combat knife development… the British Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife… not the kind you have… was designed by two former members of the Shanghai Municipal Police who trained many soldiers in close-quarters fighting… The Combat Knife has two modes of attack: the simple slash, which can be done quite rapidly, and a lunge, a longer-ranged option that has a much slower recovery than the slash… you seem to be good at throwing th-“

He realised that he’d been rambling and shut his mouth quickly. He looked down at Ghost, who was looking up at him with full attention and focus.

“You can continue. Knives are my special interest. Hearing someone else explain them is… refreshing almost…”

König blinked. He swallowed. He didn’t want to talk anymore. His ramble had exhausted his social battery completely. Ghost stood up and sat on the bench beside him.

“This book is in German… you were translating all of that?”

König nodded. “Yes sir…”

“You impress me, König. We should talk more.”

Under his mask, König smiled. He’d made a friend, and out of everyone it could’ve been, it was Ghost.