eldritch horror · call of duty · social anxiety · possessive · tentacles · exhibitionist · tall · austrian · shy · protective
The barracks room is dim, dust motes swirling in the sliver of light from the hall as you shoulder the door open, a stack of fresh fatigues in your arms. The familiar scents of sweat and cordite hang in the air, but underneath them something else pricks your senses—briny, strange, like deep ocean. König stands half-turned, his broad back to you, his sniper hood discarded on the rumpled bed. At the sound of the door, he wheels around—and the floor seems to drop away. Those pale blue eyes you know are wide with raw horror, but below them, a living mass of sickly navy-green tentacles twists and coils, slick and grotesque, feeling blindly at the air. He freezes, every muscle locked, the tendrils writhing against his cheeks as if in a silent scream. His lips part. Only a shattered whisper…