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#still love them though
whereisgem · 14 days
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Tried my best with editing
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Hope you like them :)
Thank you!!! These r lovely :3
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flowersbian · 7 months
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someone put this idea into my brain and now i can't stop thinking about it:
Thor meeting Mobius.
Not only that, but Thor meeting TVA-reformed Loki.
Like the thought of one day Loki finally deciding to see a version of Thor, or maybe just... move back to a timeline for good! And Mobius goes with him, and Thor is told all of the shit that has happened and is thinking that Loki's completely bullshitting him, but eventually realizes that Loki is just... different. Inherently. Loki has CHANGED from this dissatisfied, bitter person into a genuinely soft guy. And Thor realizes that Mobius is the reason?
Thor is fucking floored.
"All it took to calm my brother was a fucking analyst??? A middle aged guy whose middle and last name are the same as his first name?????? This dude with grey hair who finds himself hilarious?? That's what thawed him???????"
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grizzy-ly · 5 months
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Depths (Nix!Krueger x Reader)
In which Krueger is a *completely* innocent water spirit who just wants to talk to you... C'mon, don't be harsh, sit down, relax, *hold your breath*-- or don't.
[Inspired by Dall ASMR's Nøkken series on YouTube]
I have been frothing at the mouth for more dedicated Krueger content, here is my offering for anyone else who has been put in a stranglehold by the other Austrian war criminal of the COD fandom-- if I had a nickel...
This is my first fanfic I've publicly posted online and my first truly sort-of completed one (may eventually write another part-- *eventually*), also posted it to my ao3: grizz_ly.
Reader is gender-neutral.
Word Count: 3,484
Content Warning: Yandere-ish behavior, attempted murder/drowning of reader, successful drowning/murder of other people, descriptions of drowning
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“Do not venture close to the water,” you were incessantly warned upon first arriving, “Do not speak to it, and do not let it take you.”
When you tried to ask questions the townsfolk would shush you– it was taboo to speak about the lake or what it was. 
When prying anyway, you would get hushed pity directed toward those with sons and daughters who had been ripped from their loved ones; they would stray too far away from the safety of beaten trails and end up swallowed by the lake, spit back out onto the shore with blue-tinged skin and clouded, vacant eyes– now forever young. 
In the back of the local inn, when the locals had one too many, you’d hear the speculative whispers of it…
“... vengeance from a displeased water spirit?”
“... perhaps a curse from the devil himself… a punishment for our sin.”
“... they simply drank too much and believed themselves to be stronger swimmers than they were.”
As the discussions grew louder and slurred they would be scolded into silence, lest they invoke the lake’s wrath or fuel baseless superstition.
Whether one considered the tales of malevolent beings superstition or fact, one thing was certain– no one ventures to the lake. It was not worth the risk. Even the harshest skeptic carefully planned their routes away from the lake.
You too took great care to avoid the lake when you finally departed the village. Stepping onto the beaten grass of the worn path you began your several-day walk to the next point along your journey. As you passed by where the lake would be according to your map you heard the muffled sounds of… music?
You had heard many things out in the forest: birds chirping, the rustling of the brush as you stepped past, the gentle purrs of a rushing stream– but you had not heard music. You had never heard music this enchanting in fact.
You could not help yourself as you stepped off of the path into the tall grass that swayed in the breeze, and now with your movement. Your feet seemed to move on their own. You just wanted to… get a better listen to the music. As you ventured further away from the path you justified it with the notion that you would simply avoid getting too close to its edge. Just a look and listen wouldn’t hurt. How could it? It couldn’t. 
The ground underfoot grew soft as you maneuvered between trees and the tall grass transitioned to a lush moss. You soon found yourself on a raised ledge overlooking the water– though not too far up, the drop is only around half of your height. 
You can’t see the bottom of the lake; its visibility is done no favors by the tangles of weeds concealing the bed and lilies dotting the surface. The lake dazzles with the sun’s rays, though the overlook is dim due to the cover from the trees, which also allows for a comfortable chill to permeate the air.
Despite its serenity, it was… underwhelming.
You had expected something. With how dangerous the lake had been described– as a vicious, indiscriminate killer of the young– it was almost too calm, too peaceful, too… normal.
“Hallo,” a voice called out from a nearby rock peeking out of the water, it caused you to snap your head towards the source.
You size up the man. The first thing you notice is the net covering his face with foliage and other flora tucked into it, his attire besides that being plain garb and a cloak carelessly draped into the water, thus wetting the hem. The second thing you noticed was the instrument, a violin– likely the source of the music you heard.
As the silence dragged on it was broken by the sounds of a few strings of the violin being plucked as the man fiddles with it, “Ach… do not tell me you are too scared to speak? Schade…”
The stillness of the lake is emphasized by the quietness of this moment– why is it so quiet? No chirping birds, no rustling animals, no splashing fish… the only other noise besides your breathing is him slowly tuning his instrument.
“Hm…” you can see his veil shift as he seems to tilt his head, “That bad?”
“What do you mean?” You say slowly.
“What the townsfolk must have said to you…” he chuckles, “I must admit… I thought you’d run off by now, it’s been too long since anyone has spoken with me… the– the verdammt villagers blame me and paint me as a monster, but you– you don’t seem as… quick to assume, yes? Innocent until proven guilty, ja?”
You suppress a flinch at the momentary vitriol in his voice when talking about the townspeople, “I–”
“Please just… stay here with me for a moment and… speak to me? Bitte?” You can hear the hope in his pleading.
“... Alright.” You say with a hesitant nod.
“Thank you,” he says as he focuses back on his violin, after a beat he speaks again with a laugh, “You know… I asked if you could speak with me. I’m sure you have questions, so, ask them– just an idea. Just an idea.”
“Sorry, I–” you try to think of a question feeling suddenly pressured and struggling to find the right thing to ask. You settle on the most obvious, “What’s your name?”
“I go by many names… you can call me Krueger,” he says simply, “Yours?”
You give him your name and he simply hums in response. He is… not working with you here to help carry along the conversation to attempt to force you to speak more.
“...” you steel your nerves and force out your next question, “What are you?”
“Harmless–” Krueger laughs, “You treat me like I am going to bite your head off or drown you, relax some of that tension you’re carrying… I wouldn’t hurt a fly–” “You know what I mean,” you say hesitantly, “You’re not human. At least I don’t think you’re human.”
“Ach, I am offended,” he says shaking his head with a playful click of the tongue, “I am that awful? Not even a person… you hurt me so.”
“You… are you messing with me,” you ask.
“No… no, never, never,” Krueger says as he plucks the strings again before clicking his tongue, “Maybe– only a smidge…”
You then sit in the familiar lull of the conversation– you should get back to the trail, it’ll be a long walk and you start to feel like you’re wasting time.
“I should–” you begin but are quickly interrupted.
“Stay… stay?” Krueger says, “Yes, I agree. Aw… I’m sorry, am I getting to you, I don’t mean to… I just like to have a bit of fun… it’s in my nature…”
“I need to–” interrupted again.
“Is someone expecting you,” Krueger asks.
“...” You wonder if you should be honest, “No.”
Kruger huffs, “Then you do not need to leave. Sit, sit– just for a moment. It is peaceful here is it not? Take in the sights… it’s the journey that matters.”
You want to leave but at the same time… this… man? Creature? It doesn’t matter– Krueger does not seem like the monster you expected. What harm could humoring him do? Besides you feel intrigued by the strange man.
So you sit on a nearby log that is almost precariously close to the water, placing your packed belongings at your feet.
Kruger pauses, “You’re staying?”
“Should I g–”
“Bleib, geh nicht!” Krueger exclaims as he puts his arms out in a surrendering motion. He slowly relaxes, clearing his throat before he speaks again, “I mean– Of course, you would stay. Yes, yes. Of course”
You drum your fingers against the log as you watch Krueger. He climbs off of his rock and stands in the opaque water, keeping his violin held firmly on his shoulder.
“How deep is the water?” You ask.
“Not deep, no, not at all,” Krueger says, “Why? Would you like to join me?”
Not deep…
How could so many drown in shallow water? Your thoughts travel to your memories of the words of the townsfolk in the inn.
Krueger…
You feel your stomach sink as you reconsider your decision to stay. Krueger seems to sense your apprehension.
“Would you like to hear a song?” Krueger pleads, “It was my music that drew you here wasn’t it? I am quite the violinist, ja? I’m sure you’d love to hear the rest… surely…?”
You can’t deny that the music had drawn you here, and you did want to hear more.
You wave your hand, “Please, go ahead.”
Krueger adjusts his violin to rest against his shoulder, gently placing his chin on the rest. He moves his net off of the violin and then starts to play. His fingers move across the fingerboard, deftly weaving an intricate melody. The way he plays is hypnotizing. You rest your head on your closed fist as your expression goes from amused to moved. You don’t even notice him moving closer, too consumed by the music to pay attention to him slowly wading through the water towards you.
Before you realize it, he grabs at your bag, splashing away with something in his hand.
Your compass.
“Hey!” You say as you stand up, “You can’t just– give that back!”
Krueger slowly trudges back to the rock he had been sitting on, securing his violin on top before inspecting your compass.
“Ah, your compass is fine,” he announces as he inspects it, “I was just curious– since when was curiosity such a crime?”
You shake your head in disbelief, your features contorting into an anger-induced shock, “You can’t just– give that back. Now.”
He doesn’t seem to be listening to you instead muttering about the quality of the metal and craftsmanship of the compass.
“Are you– are you being serious!?” You yell, “Come back here!”
Krueger laughs slightly as he approaches the edge of the water again, “I apologize here…” As you reach for the compass he pulls his hand away, “-- It truly is a marvelous compass, where did you get it?” He seems so sincere and innocent– like he didn’t steal from you a moment ago.
“Krueger–”
“Oh, I do so love it when you say my name,” he says, “What is it?”
“You know exactly–”
“Ah, yes, your compass? Why do you need it? Wouldn’t you like to stay here a bit longer…” If you could see his face you are sure he’d be frowning.
“Krueger–!” 
“Oh, you spoil me so…” Krueger sighs, “You can have it back…” You put out your hand, but then nearly boil over as he completes his sentence, “If you come get it from me.”
“Give it.” You say.
“Take it,” he retorts, “The water is fine… what harm will it do? It is a nice day.”
You feel a chill run up your spine, “No. I…”
Your body realizes the danger of this situation before you do. You feel the phantom sensation of movement, your legs begging you to leave your compass and run.
“Give me my compass,” you say, but the waver in your voice betrays your faux confidence.
Krueger is still for a moment before he motions with his hand for you to come closer, “Fine.”
You stomp over, teetering on the edge of the lake and nearly losing your balance as you crouch. You seethe with anger as you jut your hand out, “Now.”
Krueger hands it back, you lean forward to try to grab it sooner as he moves agonizingly slow. Suddenly he lunges at you. In a swift movement clamps his hand onto your presented wrist and tugs you harshly. As you lose your balance you topple into the water. Time slows as you fall towards the water.
The lake is deeper than you had imagined– or maybe it just feels deeper as you aren’t allowed to bring yourself back above the surface with Krueger keeping you under.
Despite being under the surface you can hear him laugh as if you were still out of the water.
“What? Can you not swim?” Krueger coos as he tries to ensnare you in his arms further, “Or did you just not get enough air? Ah, did I take your breath away perhaps? … Well if I didn’t I will…”
You flail about in the darkness, your movements sluggish as you try to move your limbs in the water. You try to grasp at anything to orient yourself. Your feet connect with the bottom of the lake as you kick.
“Stop,” Krueger growls as he strains to try to hold you down, “It is not so bad. Stop– stop fighting.”
Panic runs icy hot in your veins.
“I know… I know…” Krueger says as you thrash in his arms, twisting and turning wildly, “Come now… don’t struggle. Don't you want the last thing you feel to be love? Why must you fight me… I just… want to hold you. Tsk, that is not so bad…”
The water stings your eyes.
“Let me hold you. Deep breaths… deep breaths…” Krueger murmurs trying to lull you to just give in, “Let me take you away from it all… rest… rest now… you’re safe… I’m here…”
Your lungs burn as your chest spasms.
Krueger speaks to you in a hushed tone full of affection, “I can’t help it… when I see someone as beautiful as you, I want to hold you, squeeze you, and preserve your beauty forever… wouldn’t you like to be forever beautiful… forever young… forever loved… lass dich lieben.”
Your mind runs amok as you seem unable to form any coherent thoughts not consumed by fear or spoken by your survival instinct.
“This moment would be so beautiful if you– if you would just let it!” He can’t keep his annoyance from bubbling up at your continued resistance.
Your vision vignettes, the dark water growing impossibly black. 
You want to let go. You want to stop fighting. You want to breathe… but you don’t want to die.
Your hands feel fabric and you pull, which elicits a yelp from Kreuger. Krueger stops trying to grasp you as you feel him move back in the water allowing you to resurface.
Your head pops back up above the water and you gulp air as you greedily fill your lungs. Your head reels and your eyes pound in your skull. Your heart hammers in your chest as you splash away, almost losing your balance several times as your feet slip against the slimy rocks lining the lake bed. You crash into the jagged face of the overlook you had been standing on, digging your back against it as you breathe through your bared teeth. You try to scramble up but it’s too slick to get a good grasp on any of the rocks, and the foliage just slides through your fingers.
You reach up to grab a dagger from your pack, brandishing it at Kreuger who is casually readjusting his veil. He is in no rush to get back to you. Instead, he allows you to tire yourself out as you fruitlessly try to drag yourself from the lake, scuffing up your hands and back in the process.
“If you wanted to see me without the veil you could have asked,” Krueger says, “I would have said no, but it’s the thought that counts.”
“You–” You say through harsh breaths, “You– Why?!”
“It’s not personal… you humans always take everything so personally,” Krueger tuts, “You put up quite the fight… impressive, almost.”
“You’re a monster–” “I am not… well, perhaps I am a monster, but not like that… I am a monster with feelings… that you just hurt.” Krueger tries to trudge towards you but stops as you wave your dagger around, reminding him of what the consequences would be if he got too close, “Do you even care that you hurt them? Ach… who is the real monster. Hm?”
“You!” You scoff, “You are the monster!”
“I am not a monster…” Krueger takes a deep breath, “I am simply… following the natural order of things. I am innocent in all of this.”
“Innocent?!” You exclaim, “Innocent?!”
“Yes, yes, that is what I said I am glad you are listening,” Krueger says, “I am innocent. As are you–”
“You are–” You let out a frustrated yell as you try to clamber out of the water again to no avail.
“I’m what?” Krueger just watches you, amused by your behavior, “I know what you are… a fighter, ja? It’d be so much easier if you accepted this…”
You start to swear at Krueger, cursing him out. You internally curse yourself for having gotten into this situation.
“You’re a murderer,” you say, “How many people–” You can’t even choke out the words through your disgust, “How many?”
“I am no murderer,” he scoffs, “I am simply doing what I am meant to do. I am innocent here, merely a victim of the natural order of things. Murderers kill unlawfully, none of what I do is unlawful as it is according to nature’s laws. I am not a murderer by definition.”
You stare at him with wide eyes and brows knitted in repulsed disbelief, your anger momentarily put on pause, “There is no way you’re being serious.”
“I know what you are thinking,” Krueger’s veil moves as he shakes his head, “I do not want you to be hurt, and I won’t hurt you– I am not cruel, I am not a monster. It wouldn’t hurt… you are not thinking straight… you are just panicking… let me hold you…”
Krueger attempts to move towards you again, reigniting your fury.
“Stop– stop swinging that thing about, you are going to hurt someone.” You almost slash Krueger’s arm as he reaches out towards you causing him to snap at you, “Schluss jetzt!”
He tries to lunge again to grab you. You plunge your dagger into the soft flesh of his inner arm.
“Scheißkerl!” Krueger exclaims as he clutches his arm and stumbles back.
You take your chance and grab onto an exposed tree root, hauling yourself onto the overlook in your adrenaline-fueled haste.
“No!” Krueger growls as he grabs your ankle. You had not noticed his claws, but they were impossible to ignore as they dug into you, surely drawing blood, “No! You will not leave! Stay! Stay with me! Stay!”
You flip yourself onto your back and kick at him, your foot connecting with his head. It barely phases him, only making him more desperate. He climbs further out of the water grasping onto one of your thighs with his hand as he tries to use it as an anchoring point to pull himself up, or pull you down– he wasn’t picky.
“You will die out in that forest!” Krueger says, “I am offering you a peaceful death in my arms–! I am offering you mercy– You should be thanking me–! Do you forget you don’t even have your compass?!”
You grab the strap of your pack with your hands not caring to make sure your belongings are secured before you lift it– far too consumed with your need to survive by any means necessary. Your belongings could be replaced, but you could not. You swing the heavy bag at Kreuger’s head staggering him back and causing him to slide down into the water. You crawl back from the lake securing your pack over your shoulder as you begin to make distance. Krueger screams, all pretenses of civility dead.
“You– you!” Krueger says, “You verdammter Wachbirn!”
You jump to your feet and run from the lake, hoping that you can find your way back to the path– praying that you will make it to your next destination. I’ll be fine, you think, follow the path, simple enough.
You are too focused on escaping from your brush with death to listen to the impotent rage of Krueger. “I could get you if I wanted to! You just aren’t worth the effort– you ungrateful– Ach! When you are delirious from starvation I hope you remember how you denied my offer! How you chose to die alone, painfully,” Krueger calls out, “I hope the last thing you feel is regret!”
Krueger grumbles, his face twitching as he watches you slowly fade from view, obscured by the branches and brambles of the woods. He grips the dagger lodged in his arm and wrenches it out with a grunt, too consumed by anger to even fully take in the pain.
“You left your dagger!” Kruger cries but receives no response.
He turns and throws the dagger as far as he can into the lake with a loud bark of frustration.
He slinks back into the water as he takes in the solitude that has been his only lasting companion, “They’ll be back… they always come back…”
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Translations:
Hallo = Hello Ja = Yes Schade = A pity Verdammt = Damned Bitte = Please Bleib, geh nicht = Stay, don't go Lass dich lieben = Let yourself be loved Scheißkerl = Son of a bitch/Bastard Verdammter Wachbirn = Damned/Fucking Idiot (Austrian term for idiot)
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leaffenzts · 5 months
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me and my bf made this up randomly one day i dont know how or why and it doesnt make any sense at all and it never will
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ur-fav-bpd · 2 months
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Albert Krueger from Therapy with Dr. Albert Krueger has BPD!
(requested by @misanthropologists ^_^)
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boo-berrycat · 1 year
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🪷
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heartsfortwotpot · 10 months
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INANIMATE INSANITY S3 EP 14 SPOILERS!!!!
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l'll take the initiative to make the very first springy giijinka for some reason I love this freak
(im still in NY rn, since I went to go to the meetup BUT WHEN I GET BACK i will check my inbox and finally do yalls requests again!!)
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deansapplepie · 3 months
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I don’t know if there’s such thing in English, but there’s a supernatural alarm ringtone in Portuguese that the fans did. Yesterday, I thought “oh it will be really nice to wake up with Sam and Dean talking to me.”.
I downloaded it.
Today I woke up to it.
Now I want to punch Sam and Dean pretty faces.
Thank you whoever created this, now I know how I would feel been waken up in a shared motel room by Sam and Dean.
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2lisa-quinn2 · 1 year
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I never knew that “I was screaming your name through the radio” was that fan fiction that I always needed.
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stinkyexhaust · 11 months
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"Anamolies are dangerous" this, "You're an accident" that, "You don't belong here" this...
SHUT THE F*CK UP MIGUEL!
Stop trying to project all your self-hate and guilt on to my poor sweet sunflower boy 😤
Go get some therapy and touch some grass or something!
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Wait you have two moms?
That's kinda cool ngl-
Yeah 💗 they are really cool
Though I think its why most parents didn't want me to be friends with their kids 😭
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hollowgirl136 · 2 years
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To like the 3-4 people who liked the potion coven head, how was the face reveal for ya'll?
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The Godzilla franchise is so wild because the first is like a genuinely good movie which serves as a metaphor for the nuclear bombings during WWII and the lasting traumatic effects it had on Japan and the Japanese public and the rest are just “how can we get these monsters to fight”
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She was serious when she said it is one of those relationships where the narrative is never really over.
life is emotionally abusive? try haylor
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imagine how strongly she felt to write a lyric asking him if he ever felt like anything else felt second best. she’s thought the same thing
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mygwenchan · 2 years
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Is anyone else feeling uncomfortable with the amount of spilled food and drinks in the VegasPete scenes? Like there is spilled porridge on the carpet, noodles on the comforter, drinks spilled all over the bed... My inner mom just wants to scold those two and make them scrub the floor and wash the linens and make them clean and put away the dishes too as punishment.
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thesparringpanther · 1 year
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The Dragon Prince Book 4 Chapter 2: Fallen Stars
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