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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago

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Per a suggestion from an Ao3 follower:

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one. It's silly. It's a little mean, but really all in good fun. I did try to keep on theme with the requester's suggestions about the guys. Anyways, enjoy!!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): brief swearing, domestic fluff, established relationship, brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Sorry, love. But I need you to repeat that.”

You clear your throat, putting more strength behind your voice. “I would like you to step out of the bedroom.”

John crosses his arms over his chest. He leans forward a bit, amused. “And why is that?”

“I’m changing.”

“I don’t believe it,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“I want privacy. And I would like it if you stepped out.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you shrug.

John’s mouth opens slightly like he’s about to say something—but promptly shuts it, exhaling loudly. “Okay. I’ll go.” He starts to walk away but then turns around. “I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, John.”

He shakes his head as he exits. You wait a few seconds, before testing what he said.

“John?”

He promptly returns, standing inside the door. “Yes?”

“Just making sure.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear.

Once you’re dressed, you go out into the hall, and find him leaning against the wall. His neck twists slowly, his gaze pivoting to you. There is a bland, mostly unamused expression on John’s face.

“What?” you ask, all innocence.

“Never ask me that again.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Kyle?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Could you step out?”

Kyle turns. “Step out? Step out where? To the store?”

“No,” you laugh. “The bedroom.”

“Why?”

“I’m changing.”

Kyle blinks. “For what reason?”

“I’m changing.”

He shrugs. “You change in front of me all the time.”

“Yes. But right now, I want to be alone.”

Kyle completely turns in your direction, arms crossed over his chest, concern creasing his brow. “Is that what you want, love?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t look happy, but he starts to make an exit.

“Are you okay?” he asks suddenly, turning on his heel.

“I’m fine,” you tell him.

Kyle starts to pivot back to the bedroom door but stops. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

Kyle’s gaze narrows. “Are you hurt?” he asks, tone soft. And then, with a little growl in it, “Did someone hurt you?”

“No, Kyle. I’m fine. Really. I just want privacy.”

Frowning, he takes one step backward. “Everything is fine?”

“Everything is fine,” you confirm.

With another nod, Kyle leaves the room.

You think you’re alone, but then you hear his voice from out in the hallway.

“Is it a new outfit?”

“No.”

Silence. Then, “It’s not my birthday.”

“No, Kyle. It’s not.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Can you leave the room?”

Johnny turns, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “What?”

“I need to change,” you reply. “Could you leave?”

The middle of his brow furrows. He pops the toothbrush out of his mouth. “Serious?”

“Yes,” you affirm.

“Why?” he asks.

“I need to change, Johnny!”

“So?” he counters, and then, with a sultry voice, “I’ve seen you naked.”

“I want privacy.”

He laughs softly, and promptly plops himself onto the edge of the bed. “No. Staying right here.”

“Johnny.”

“I’ll close my eyes.” He returns the toothbrush to his mouth, crossing his arms over his chest. “See? Not looking.”

He does close his eyes.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he says.

As you remove your robe and begin to reach for the first article of clothing, you glance over at Johnny. One of his eyelids is open. He’s sneaking a peek.

“Johnny,” you scold, smacking his arm.

He smirks, returning to his original state.

You put on the next piece of your outfit. This time, Johnny steals a quick touch.

“Johnny!”

His eyes pop open and then he leans back on the bed, muscles on full display. “Couldn’t help myself,” he replies with a shrug and cheeky grin.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Simon?”

“Hm?”

“Could—could you leave for a moment?” You put some nervousness in your voice.

Simon is fresh out of the shower. Water droplets still remain on his skin. A crisp, white towel is wrapped around his hips, but it looks so small on him compared to his large frame.

“Leave?” he asks, turning in your direction.

“Yes. I need to change.”

The corners of his mouth turn downward. “To change?”

“I would like it if you left the room while I dress.”

Simon blinks but his features don’t change. “We just had sex. And you want me to step out of the room?”

“That is what I’m saying,” you affirm with a nod of your head.

He shrugs. “Okay.”

Without hesitating, Simon exits the bedroom. He doesn’t come back in or attempt to steal a glance. You’re completely alone, left to do whatever it is you need to.

Once you’re dressed, you call out to Simon. “I’m done.”

You hear is heavy footfalls, and then he returns. “Good?”

“Yes.”

He nods. “I’d like you to leave now.”

“You—what?”

This time, Simon smirks as he reaches for the towels tied at his hips. “You make me nervous, love.”

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tetzoro · 9 months ago

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WORK NIGHTS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : normally once you get home from work, you and kuroo have a pretty set routine, but it’s always fun to catch him off guard.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, established relationship, oral (m!receiving), mentions of deepthroating, minor cum play, titty sucking is good for the soul, just something silly for this man — WC : 1.1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile, so here :3 dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

work nights were pretty routine for you and kuroo. come home, make dinner, eat, talk about your day, clean up, watch whatever show you guys put on before getting ready for bed and laying in each others arms until your alarm went off the next morning.

but something about kuroo looked so fucking good tonight, you just couldn’t help it. the tv was playing but you weren't paying attention to it. at all. instead, your eyes trailed down his face, the divine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, all the while he was mindlessly watching whatever show you put on.

“tetsu.” you whisper in his ear from where you’re nestled into his side, his arm draping along the back of the couch. he only hums in response, squeezing your shoulder to show he heard you. “let me suck you off.”

“yeah—“ kuroo freezes, wide amber eyes looking over at you. “wait, what?”

“let me suck you off.” you reiterate, already pivoting your body so you can kneel before him. he doesn’t stop you, watching as your knees hit the ground, your palms eagerly running up his thighs. “please?”

“fuck,” kuroo ran his hand through his dark hair, disheveling it even more as he gazes down at you, immediately enchanted by your every move. “yeah, yeah, of course, baby.”

it was cute catching him off guard like this — normally he’d always be equipped with what to say, his wit overpowering yours with ease most times, leaving you a flustered mess. but today you won the battle, looking up at him through your lashes, his cheeks turning pink.

his adam’s apple bobs, jaw clenched as your fingers dip under the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down. to your delight, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“what’s this?” you ask, tilting your head up at him. if he was blushing before it doesn’t compare to now. the look you’re giving him sends blood rushing down to his cock, twitching to life before you can even properly get your hands on him. “that’s kind of slutty of you, tetsu.”

the man only swallows, eager to see what you’ll do next. and you couldn’t resist, fingers running along his length, rubbing against it as he hardens under your touch.

“please.” kuroo breathes out, sucking in his breath as you finally close your hand around his thick girth.

“what do you want, tetsu?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you slowly start to flick your wrist, moving up and down his length.

kuroo shivers at the touch. what’s got him so sensitive tonight, you aren’t sure — but you want to take advantage of it.

“answer me, baby.” you squeeze the base of his cock, pulling a choked groan from his lips, his weepy tip already drooling for you.

“your mouth, i need your mouth.” he hisses out. you give him another squeeze. “please.”

kuroo shivered as the flat of your tongue ran up the side of his length in response, coating him in your saliva before rubbing his tip along your lips, his precum coating your lips like your favorite lipgloss.

he watches as you lick your lips, groaning as you make a show of how much you enjoy the savory taste of him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

without another moments hesitation, you engulf him in your mouth, loosening your jaw so you can take him in deeper.

kuroos palm rests on top of your head, not enough force to push you down any further, but enough to ground him, keeping him from thrusting up into your mouth.

“fuck—“ he breathes out in pleasure, head lolling on the back of the couch, half lidded eyes set on you as he watches his cock disappear in your mouth. “so good to me.”

you hum, the reverberations causing his eyes to roll back. doing what you can to make him squirm, relishing in the way his muscles ripple, abs tensing in pleasure, thighs trembling from how good your mouth feels around him.

your eyes flit up to his face, basking in his expression — mouth hung open, face flushed, half lidded eyes meeting yours. kuroo always looked so pretty when you looked up at him like this, in a world of pleasure that only you can bring him to.

it’s what he deserved after a long day of working so hard, after stressful meetings and dealing with snippy coworkers — he needed to relax.

“fuck, that’s it—“ kuroo lets out a shuddered moan.

you hold him in your mouth for a moment, his cock throbbing and pulsing with need against the slick of your tongue, nudging itself deeper to the back of your throat. groans spill from his lips and it just makes you want to work harder for him — spoil him, tease him, anything to make him feel good.

kuroos breaths become ragged, panting as you continue to bob your head up and down. you can almost feel his heart beat for you as you swallow his cock dow n your throat.

“i’m — !” kuroo’s fingers tense around your head, arching his back and trying to shove himself deeper, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. you let him, a few tears streaming down your face as you let him use your throat. “fuck, i’m gonna cum, cumming!”

he whines and writhes under your touch, not letting up an inch as he spills in your mouth with a loud groan of your name, fingers latching into your locks as he comes down from his high.

you pull apart slowly as you swallow, some of his cum dripping from the sides of your mouth. kuroo watches as you scoop it up with your finger, sliding back up into his lap and putting it in his mouth.

his tongue twirls around your finger before it retreats, quickly replaced with your lips. his palms find your backside, pulling you closer onto him as he kisses you deeper, moaning into your mouth.

“that mouth of yours…” kuroo whispers against your lips before stealing a few more kisses. “you gotta let me return the favor, sweetheart.”

“well if you insist.” you smirk a little, moving back to slide off your shirt, the one you stole from his drawer earlier. he looks up at you in awe, hands sliding up your sides and cupping your breasts.

“you know, i think i’m rubbing off on you.” he smirks right back at you, thumb brushing over your nipple. you gasp out, arching into him.

“you’re only saying that because i managed to catch you off guard for once.” you tease, words turning into moans as he sucks on your perked bud. after a moment, he relents.

“yeah, well. i hope you enjoyed it because it’s not going to happen again.” he kisses his way over to your other nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking lightly. “so like i said, let me return the favor.”

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #x reader

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sopebubbles · 2 years ago

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Four

Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: the boys learn several uncomfortable things about you.

Warnings: nothing? that I can think of. Y'all know this shit is sad, but the pack is so comforting.

Wc: 4.5k

"Where are you going?" Jimin asked when he opened his eyes to find you only a few steps from the door.

You froze before pivoting on your toes. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you," you answered in a nearly inaudible voice.

Jimin stretched his neck as he sat up. "I wasn't really sleeping. What are you doing?"

You relaxed onto your heels and looked around in confusion, as though you weren't sure yourself. "I was just feeling suffocated in the room and wanted some air. I thought I could step out without bothering anyone since you were all sleeping."

He started to ask if you were leaving, but then he swallowed his words. "We can go out to the backyard if you want to walk around a little," he said instead.

You nodded as an answer and walked toward him.

"You'll want this," he told you when you came near, grabbing Yoongi's hoodie off the arm of the couch. He had changed into it when he got home from work several hours ago, and had taken the time to carefully scent it with all the alphas before casually leaving it downstairs, as if by mistake. But Jimin knew better. "It's chilly out tonight."

You took the sweatshirt he offered you. You sniffed it and tugged it on with less hesitation than he expected. Maybe you knew what Yoongi had predicted: some comforts you just needed. You were still just in someone's shorts, but he figured you wouldn't be out too long. The beta moved a pair of slides by the door in front of you to slip your feet into before he held the door open for you. You smiled so softly at him that he felt his heart stop, over the moon at how easily you accepted his gentle way of caring for you, and he returned a smile back.

There wasn't much in the square patch of the backyard. Jimin watched your figure as you walked down the three steps to the sidewalk leading to the back gate. To the left of the door, in the corner, was a table with several chairs sitting on a slab of concrete. The rest of the yard was just grass, not yet needing a cut as spring had only just started. Hobi had been begging Jin to make a proper patio for everyone to enjoy since Jimin joined the pack four years ago, but Jin kept insisting they would move into a bigger house soon. When they had bought the house shortly after Kookie became an established member of their small pack, with considerable assistance from their families, they hadn't imagined their numbers would more than double in size, at least not without any pups of their own. A bigger house would be nice, of course, but there was something cozy to Jimin about stuffing the just slightly too small house to the brim with love.

Jimin sat on the top step and leaned his elbows on his knees, and his eyes followed you as you skirted along the fence. He could see you were still a bit shaky on your legs, and you seemed to be focused on putting one foot directly in front of the other.

"Where are you from, Y/N?"

Your head snapped to look at him with wide, startled eyes, as if you'd forgotten he was there. You stared at him a moment before you said, "Sorry, I don't remember your name."

He smiled again, softly. "I'm Jimin."

You nodded and began to walk along the fence line again, ignoring his question, so he asked another. "How long have you lived in the city?"

"What makes you think I'm not from here?"

It was your accent, a slight drawl on your words that you'd never quite managed to eliminate. Jimin shrugged. "Just a hunch."

You turned the corner at the back of the yard so you faced the house and looked up at the dark windows behind which his pack slept soundly. "How do you know about True Life?" you asked, clearly not wanting to give him the control of the conversation.

You weren't going to answer his questions, but at least you were talking to him, so he didn't mind answering. "I work at a shelter for teens, so I know about all the shelters in the area."

Your mouth made a soundless 'oh' as you continued along the fence toward the house. Jimin wondered if you were aware you were marking their property or if it was subconscious. Maybe you were claiming their space as your own. Maybe you were trying to draw in other alphas with your scent. Maybe you just had no idea what you were doing.

"How long have you been there?" He asked when you didn't say anything.

"A couple weeks." You shrugged and added a moment later, "I lost my second job and couldn't pay my rent and now I don't know what I'm going to do."

"I can help you find a job." Jimin perked up at being able to make the offer. "I know places in town that have no problem hiring omegas and who offer heat leave."

"I don't need heat leave, as long as I can afford the good pills," you told him. "I just ran out this month."

"The ones they gave you can cause long-term infertility," Jimin told you.

You snorted. "I don't care about that. I'm not ever having kids. I just didn't take them because they make my stomach hurt so bad." Jimin nodded his head and went silent for a moment as you continued tracing a path at the edge of the grass. "Is that what you do then? You help people get jobs?" You asked as you turned around and went back the other way.

"I'm a social worker. I help people get the things they need. Whether that's a job or school…or a pack." Jimin saw your back stiffen at the word, a minor hiccup in your pacing before you resumed. "Would that be something I could help you with?"

You turned the corner to walk across the back perimeter again, hiding your face in shadow. "I don't need a pack," you said quietly but firmly.

"Living on your own in the city can be really hard. Making ends meet, taking care of yourself. There are all kinds of packs. Not all are together for mating. Sometimes a pack can just be friends who care about you. When Taehyung came to us, he wasn't looking for partners, but family."

You sighed heavily at his words. "Your pack seems nice enough, but not all packs are like that. Everyone acts like packs are something you have to have, but not all packs mean safety. Shitty people don't stop being shitty just because they're pack."

Jimin's breath caught in his chest. Of course, he knew most packs weren't as good as his. And he knew that there were plenty of bad people out there, even Lykos. But he didn't like to imagine what could have happened to you to bring out such bitterness in your voice.

"But I'm sure someone like you wouldn't understand that," he heard you mutter under your breath.

Behind him, Jimin could hear the front door open on the other side of the house. It had to be Jungkook coming home from his shift. He heard the thick clunk of boots where he took them off by the door, and then nothing as the other beta moved with practiced stealthiness around the otherwise silent house.

Jimin didn't take offense at your assumptions of him. It was obvious enough that you spoke from a place of pain, and that was something Jimin could easily understand, and even empathize with. He rubbed his palms together and gathered his thoughts before speaking.

"My parents died when I was ten. My mom was sap, my dad was a beta, so we never had a pack. We never even had a normal family. After the accident, I lived in a series of group homes. Some were fine. Some were worse than others, but the one nice thing was being surrounded by other people like me. I met lots of people who had it worse than me. Kids who had been adopted only to be sent back when their new family didn't want them. Others who got kicked out of the group home when they presented and couldn't control their instincts. I was lucky because I was able to go from there to college without having to navigate those years all on my own. But after I graduated it was really difficult for me to live alone. Through some friends, I found out about a…collective of sorts, where young Lykos lived together. They weren't a pack per se but they were able to help each other out in ways like a pack. Resource sharing, budgeting, physical closeness. Like I said, it wasn't a pack bond, not like what we have here, but it was better than being all alone."

You had stopped at the other side of the fence and stood with your back against the wooden planks. He waited for you to say something, but he didn't expect the words you spoke next. "I would've guessed a pack would've wanted someone like you very early on."

Jimin's face heated, and he was glad you couldn't see it in the dark. "I'm not sure what you mean by that." Although by your tone it sounded like a compliment.

"I just mean that you're attractive and pleasant to be around. And doesn't everyone want betas in their pack? You're supposed to be stable and reliable, right?" You tilted your head to the right when you asked in a very endearing gesture.

Jimin cleared his throat. He could still feel the blush on his cheeks. "I was a late bloomer. For a while I thought I might actually turn out to just be sap like my mother. To this day, my scent is still fainter than anyone I've ever known. So I guess I'm not as attractive as you think."

You snorted again and pushed away from the fence. "If I had been you, I would've just pretended I was normal. You could live a perfectly ordinary life. Not like us freaks." You mumbled the end but Jimin wouldn't ignore it.

"There's nothing abnormal or freaky about who you are. And anyone who told you otherwise is just plain wrong. I chose this life because it belongs to me. Anyone who has made you feel like being alone is better doesn't know what they're missing, whether sap or Lykos."

You stopped in your tracks away from him and to his surprise, you turned to walk toward him. "I was born to God-knows-who, and the first thing my mother did with me was throw me in the garbage. Literally. And instead of leaving me be, some idiots hauled me out of the dumpster and gave me to a family who wanted nothing but a slave and who threw me out as soon as I got my first heat. Being alone isn't a choice for me, Jimin. It's just what I am."

Without waiting for a response you walked past him up the steps and into the house, letting the screen door slam behind you, causing him to jump. Jimin hung his head in his hands, applying pressure to his temples as he considered what you had said and his own stupidity. He knew better than to assume he knew anyone's story, or to tell people what he thought they needed instead of asking first. But something about you prevented him from thinking professionally.

Jungkook came home tired as ever. No, more tired than he'd been all week. He and his partner had been the first responders to an absolutely horrific scene of a murder. Although he spent most of his shift holding the police line, being the lowest man on the totem pole, it hadn't left him unaffected. As he pulled his feet from his shoes, he wanted nothing more than to plant himself face first on the closest soft surface and sleep for a day. He struggled clumsily with the buttons of his shirt, yanking the bottom free from his trousers before he fumbled with his belt buckle. He couldn't bring himself to climb the stairs to the pack's nest, so he shuffled to the spare room and left his clothes in a pile at the foot of the bed he now slept in more often than not. He kneeled on the bed in nothing but his boxers to crawl his way to the middle and sank into the warm space. The smells that greeted him were different but familiar. Hobi's sweet brown sugar was there, but faintly, hiding behind a saccharine apple. Jungkook registered the difference on some level, maybe even knew it was wrong to be there, but the scents were so comforting he couldn't help but melt into them. He pulled your pillow to his face and covered himself with the single blanket before he quickly fell asleep.

A loud bang had his eyes popping open. Alert to danger but still half asleep. Had he slept for hours or seconds? Moments later the door to the room closed harshly and the edge of bed dipped before a body collided with his. And then a scream. Jungkook scrambled off the bed for the light switch, nearly falling when his legs tangled in the blanket. After they turned on, Jimin appeared, throwing the door open to see what was wrong. All three of you breathed heavily as you looked at one another.

"What are you doing here?" You half screeched before the betas could say a word.

"Fuck! God. Y/N, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Jungkook sputtered, gasping. "I was just so exhausted that I forgot you were staying here. I sleep here a lot and I just…forgot."

Jungkook's chest caved in as he watched you shake in front of him. He had promised you safety and security, assured you that no one would bother you, but he was the first to trespass. Regret stole his words from his mouth, and you said nothing at all. He looked to Jimin for some kind of help, and luckily the other man was there to give it. He took Jungkook by the wrist and pulled him gently out of the room.

"Sorry, Y/N. Get some rest, and I'll check on you in the morning," he told you quietly. He reached for the light switch before closing the door.

"Leave it," you said, urgently, fearfully.

Jimin nodded and pulled the door shut. It clicked with finality.

"I'm sorry, hyung," Jungkook breathed out in the relative darkness of the hallway.

Jimin shushed him as he led the larger man to the living room. "Don't waste your breath apologizing to me, Kookie. It was an honest mistake. She's a little worked up, otherwise I'm sure she'd see that, too."

Jungkook stopped cold, making himself difficult to lead. "What happened? Why's she worked up?" He looked back over his shoulder toward your door.

"Jungkook, you look like you're going to keel over. Sit down for a minute," Jimin coaxed, guiding him to the couch. He sat and took the glass of water Jimin offered him, drinking without hesitation.

"Did something else happen?" he asked after draining the glass.

Jimin shrugged. "Not exactly. I don't know. We were just talking, and I might have said the wrong thing or at the wrong time. She just said some things…about herself." He sighed and reached out for Jungkook. Feeling the beta solidly beneath his hands always had a grounding effect. "Her troubles haven't started recently, Jungkook. I think maybe her whole life has been nothing but pain and trouble."

"I know," Jungkook said, sounding like he meant it concretely, not merely as a suspicion.

"Did you find something about her?"

Jungkook sagged against the couch and rubbed his face with his hands. "I did, but is it okay if we go through it tomorrow?"

Jimin smiled softly and ruffled his hair. "Of course, Kookie. I'll help you get upstairs so you can get some rest."

Jungkook yawned wide, stretching out his long arms. "I'll sleep here. You can go up."

"No, baby," Jimin shook his head.

"It's okay. I promise I won't bother her again."

"It's not about her, Kook. It's about you getting proper rest in the nest. Now."

Jungkook sighed. "I can't. I don't smell right after work. I don't want to ruin everyone's sleep."

Jimin's face crumpled. "Is that why you never come up anymore?" Jungkook nodded, eyes fixed on his knees. It's at least most of the truth. "Baby, no one cares. They'll get you smelling right in no time. C'mon, let's go."

Jimin pulled Jungkook like dead weight, but eventually got him to his feet. Jungkook was too tired to not let the smaller man bear his weight as they made their way up the stairs. When they got to the pack's bedroom, the door opened with a creak that Hoseok had been meaning to fix. The omega lifted his head from the bed in an attempt at alertness.

"Pup delivery," Jimin whispered, placing Jungkook gently on the edge of the nest. Hands from more than one person reached out to hold him and he was completely engulfed, snuggled in by his mates before Jimin closed the door once again.

Hobi could be nibbly in the morning. Jungkook had nearly forgotten about that. It had been a while since he had felt the omega's tongue lap at his scent gland, nudging him awake with his nose and gentle kisses.

"Morning, baby," Jungkook chuckled.

"Wakey, wakey," Hobi sang, though he was hardly awake himself, still feeling sleepy and far from ready to start the day.

"How did you sleep?" Jungkook asked conversationally as he carded his fingers through his omega's hair, keeping his voice low since he wasn't sure if the others were awake. The body on the other side of him—Yoongi probably—felt very still. Jungkook didn't know how he'd ended up in the middle of the nest, but he was pleased to be there.

Hoseok smiled against his shoulder. "So good, Kookie. I've missed you in the nest. I'll keep that girl here forever if it will make you sleep next to me every night."

Jungkook stiffened. Guilt for too many wrongs to count washed through him. But Hobi was quick to stroke a soothing hand down his chest. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

"Shh. I didn't say that to make you feel bad. I just love having you here. We've been together for so long that it doesn't feel quite right to have you missing. I feel like I wash the sheets twice as often because they don't smell the same without you," he chuckled. "But it's okay. I know you need space right now."

Jungkook pulled his mate tighter to him, inhaling the sweet scent from the top of his head. "I'll try not to be so distant. I know it isn't fair to you."

Hoseok shook his head. "I just want you to be happy, pup. But you don't seem very happy these days."

Yoongi shifted on his other side, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling his other shoulder.

Jungkook hummed. "I'm happy right now."

"Now if only Jiminie were here this nest would be perfect," Hoseok mused.

"I'm here!" Jimin called from the hallway outside.

Hoseok lifted his head over Jungkook's chest. "Get your cute little butt in here then!"

Jimin didn't waste a second in following orders. He skipped to the bed where he was playfully pulled down to the mattress by a giggling Taehyung and squished into place between the alpha and Yoongi.

"Why were you out in the hallway, baby? Is everything okay downstairs?"

Jimin lifted himself up to hook his chin over Yoongi's shoulder. "Everything's…fine. I just missed you guys, and I thought I could do the job just as well from up here as down there," he admitted sheepishly.

"Was the door slamming and a scream last night real? Or did I dream about it?" Namjoon asked from the other side of the bed.

"Oh," Jungkook remembered. "I might have scared Y/N last night. On accident."

"After I made her upset, which is why she slammed the door," Jimin added.

Jin seemed suddenly aware, looking between the two betas with alert eyes. "How did you upset her?"

"I was trying to talk to her about the benefits of being in a pack. But I think I hit a nerve."

"How so?"

"She…she told me that she was abandoned as a newborn and adopted by saps who treated her horribly."

"And then I accidentally fell asleep in her bed and freaked her out."

Jin sat up, choosing for the moment to gloss over Jungkook's transgression to look at Jimin. "So she's basically always been alone?" Hoseok's hand found his, gripping him for comfort at such an unimaginable thought.

Jimin grimaced. "Not necessarily. Something she said last night stood out. I think she might have had a pack at one point. But based on what she said, it wasn't a good experience."

Hoseok tilted his head curiously. "What did she say?"

"She said bad people are still bad in packs, and packs aren't always safe," Jimin frowned.

Hoseok shuddered. "You might be onto something," Jungkook said.

Yoongi opened his eyes for the first time, though he'd been listening all along. "What did you find out?"

Jungkook cleared his throat but his voice came out nervously. "Before she came to this city, she served six months in a county jail in another state for solicitation."

"What?!" Several voices demanded, the whole nest suddenly in movement.

"A friend of mine who's on desk duty did some digging for me and found out she'd been arrested. In her testimony, she said that her alpha forced her to do it, but she pleaded guilty."

Hoseok thought he might actually throw up. He had heard stories on the news of omega sex workers before. Not just Lykos but even more often Sapiens would pay to have sex with omegas. But the thought that an alpha would do that to one they called their own chilled him to the bone.

Namjoon tugged his hands through his hair, his mind frantically trying to think of a way to make such an alpha pay for the crime. "Was the alpha arrested too?"

Jungkook shook his head. "She wouldn't give a name because she feared for her safety."

Jin's skin stretched painfully over his knuckles as he fisted the blanket. If his mother heard this she would use her family's considerable wealth and power to track down that alpha and make him suffer. Could he call in such a favor on your behalf?

Without a word, Taehyung got up and walked to the door.

"Tae, where are you going?" Jimin asked, anxious at the sudden loss of his mate.

"I don't want to hear anymore," Tae replied angrily.

"Sweetheart-"

"No. I don't want to hear any more about her from you. It feels wrong to know these things about her when she hasn't told me herself. It's an invasion of privacy and I won't listen."

"I'm sorry, Tae. I was just trying to figure out how we could help her," Jungkook defended himself.

Taehyung sighed, looking back at his lover. "I get that. And I want to help her, too. I just…ugh. I haven't even really seen her and I haven't gotten to talk to her. It feels weird for you to dig up information on her. It's like she's a character in a movie and not someone in our house. I don't know how to explain it but it makes me uncomfortable."

Jimin's heart melted. Taehyung's sensitive soul had a way of turning them all to mush. The beta slipped off the bed to wrap his arms around him. "Okay, alpha. No more digging, okay? Come back to bed. Don't be upset." Tae allowed himself to be pulled, always particularly sensitive to Jimin's coaxing. "Kookie won't do any more digging, right?" The maknae nodded. "Come back and let me cuddle you a little more, and then we can help Hobi get some breakfast going for her, okay?"

Taehyung followed Jimin back down into the nest with a pleased, boxy grin, wordlessly covering him with his body and nuzzling into his neck. While Jimin whispered sweet nothings into the youngest alpha's ear, the rest refocused their attention on Jungkook.

"Now, how did you end up in Y/N's nest?" Jin asked, appearing sterner than he ever was.

Jungkook blushed deeply. "I was an honest accident, hyung. I was just so tired and my feet carried me there. Jimin and Y/N were outside, so I didn't notice until she came back. Besides, it wasn't much of a nest. I usually sleep with more blankets than she had."

Hoseok frowned grumpily. He wondered if you would let him teach you. But it wasn't his most pressing issue in mind.

"What's wrong?" Jin asked, plucking a pouty lip.

Hobi turned to Jungkook once more. "I don't like that your first instinct is to go sleep in the other room." Jungkook opened his mouth to argue but Hobi wouldn't let him. "I know you have a long list of reasons why you do it, but I don't want to hear them. I don't care that you come home at 4 in the morning. You aren't bothering anyone. Do you think Jin and I sleep well knowing you're not here where you belong? I don't care if you come home smelling like the street and other people. I will make you smell like Jungkook again in no time. I'll make you smell like your pack. Unless you don't want your pack anymore. And if you're trying to pull away from us, then that's something we really need to talk about. Just be honest!"

A sad whine came from Jungkook's throat. Neither of them had expected those words to come out, though Hobi had been holding onto them for several weeks, only sharing them with Jin. "Hobi! I never want that. I never want to not be part of this pack. You're my home!" He whimpered, pulling the warm omega on top of him, forcing Yoongi to make way.

"Then act like it," Hobi mumbled into his chest.

"I will. I'll sleep here every night," he replied, holding his love close.

Hoseok smiled. At least that was one worry off the list.

A/n: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought in the comments and reblogs! They mean the world to me 💜

Permanent taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @crish-mac @hey-itsmina @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lxvelyjiminie @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @shadowyjellyfishfest @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g

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#bts a/b/o #bts omegaverse au #bts ot7 #bts poly au #bts series #bts fic #bts fan fiction #bts yoongi #bts jungkook #bts hobi #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts x reader #bts angst #lone wolf #bts ot7 x reader

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liquidorcard · 1 month ago

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Okay, part two. Let's go girls, gays and theys, Papa Polarity ain't saved yet.

[Part 1] [Part3]

Lily Commits Elder Gay Mutant Abuse, feat. "Eldritch Lily" (Part 2)

Everything gets worse . . .

4:13: Lily mischaracterizes Charles Xavier, throws up a Martin Luthor King quote she either doesn't understand or didn't read carefully enough, going full whyte. (Never go full whyte.)

How much do I need to dignify this by explaining why this is fucking asinine? Charles is a pacifist for the most part. A recognized and respected form of activism and protest. Like, the least charitable interpretation of what Lily's trying to say here is that figures like Gahndi, Abbie Hoffman, and dear old MLK himself are posers complicit in the oppression two of them lost their fucking life to.

That quote is referring to white people passively complicit in racism that just want black people to shut the fuck up Lily-- not passive forms of activism.

You know, it's one thing to be profoundly fucking wrong about cartoons, it's an entirely different beast when you're profoundly wrong about shit like this. Absolutely fucking ghoulish.

It feels weird pivoting back to the costumed vigilantes with funky genes, but we gotta keep going. Ironically for how much Lily is focusing on the movies here-- one of my issues with the way Charles is portrayed is he keeps casually threatening people/doing shady shit and getting away with it. Makes you question why it's framed as okay when he does it and not when it's Erik. Charles isn't a saint, he shouldn't be portrayed as one, and there's a lot of thematic dissonance when the films feel the need to lampshade the shit he gets up to less he lose the moral high ground.

4:50: OH HERE WE GO.

5:00: Lily goes on a long rant about the "activists who GO TOO FAR" trope in media.

I technically agree with her, but I can tell by the examples she's giving that she's parroting things Hbomberguy said in his RWBY video, just in a less charitable tone. So, really I agree with Hbomberguy.

She's not wrong that the BoM and Magneto sometimes wanders into this territory (I mean, they were originally 'The Brotherhood of Evil Mutant' and all that) unfortunately, but she hasn't supported that position at all. I have to assume she's heard this brought up somewhere else, this isn't exactly a unique take by any means. I doubt she's actually familiar enough with the content to create an original cohesive argument.

Lily doesn't like moral ambiguity in her media. That would be fine if she wasn't this butthurt that other people feel very differently.

6:05: "And yes, you knew we were getting to it! [ . . .] Almost all of Legend of Korras main villians start at a good through line. But then some twist comes up that makes everything they said before completely pointless."

THESE TWO, "START AT A GOOD THROUGH LINE!?"

LILLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

6:15: "Season one's Amon is a socialist activist who cares about the oppression of non-benders by benders-- until it turns out that he doesn't."

I know this is a popular interpretation of the equalitists, especially given that their name is 'the equalists,' but actually the show never gives us enough information about the sociopolitical dynamics of benders and non-benders to say for sure. I'm not going to get into it here, if you want my full breakdown and analysis on the social politics of Avatar, let me know. In summary, it's tempting to assume benders would be the dominant class as they have literal powers, but that's not really how systemic power works. There's conflicting inference on what the dynamics are, and it may be different depending on the nation. The equalists are schrodinger's activists. They could be the Black Panthers, they could be the Proud Boys. That is not me making a false equivalency between those two groups, it's just never established if their perceived systemic persecution is real or imagined.

This isn't really a criticism of Lily. That it is so ambiguous is a flaw in the show. The interpretation Amon is supposed to be a socialist is as valid as any. Well. . . It's an extremely reductive interpretation of a socialist, and I know Lily doesn't know what a socialist actually is, but I'm trying to be charitable when possible here.

I do LIKE Korra myself, to be clear. But, yeah. There's problems.

6:31: "Season four's Kuvira wants to stitch the Earth Kingdom back together but doesn't want to restore an oppressive monarchy like everyone else does. And then declares that she is the dictator of the Earth Kingdom."

Yeah, that is just a thing that has happened in history, Lily. When there's a power vacuum left by a sudden or violent upheaval of a tyrant, unfortunately often another tyrant at least attempts to take their place. This is one of the reasons why former colonies struggle to cultivate stability-- societies and communities can get fucked in the ass by this kind of shit. This isn't a pro-monarchy message Lily-- consider maybe trying to learn things now and again.

This is why people call you a fake leftist Lily. Doing (relatively) minor gestures of good will like handing out food for a short period then pulling the rug out from under the people once they're complicit is right out of the facist playbook. You are virtually doing the exact thing you accused Rebecca Sugar of, but for real.

You're being outfoxed by a kid's show again.

6:44: "Season two's Unalaq [you get the idea.]"

Lily is pro gentrification until you involve demon kites I guess. I'm confused why she thinks he ever had any good intentions, it's telegraphed immediately he's a bad dude. He's also by far the worst villain-- as in, the worst written.

7:10: "All of them go 'the status quo is bad therefore commence genocide' like they got their political theory from fucking Vaush."

By your line of thinking so did Firelord Sozin:

youtube

"I had my own vision for a brighter future . . ."

I don't like Vaush either, but-- this isn't even the pot calling the kettle black. This is the blackened grime on the pot calling the kettle black.

GOD THIS VIDEO IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT MAGNETO. WE'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT KORRA FOR ALMOST THIS WHOLE POST.

7:19: "The entire show you're watching Korra become a stooge for the status quo every single time. 'The problem isn't that the system is bad, it's that the wrong people are in charge.' And then they inevitably change the status like bringing democracy to the Earth Kingdom and you're left wondering-- wait, why wasn't the other person doing this!?"

I did not edit those two statements together. That is, in fact, Lily pointing out why her own arguments are stupid in the very next breath. Thanks for saving me the effort, I guess.

7:45: "Why weren't the characters you set up to do these things . . . Doing the things?!"

Because they weren't set up to do these things Lily. They're the antagonists. They ideologically were designed to be foils for Korra to overcome.

Korra's political messages aren't even that deep, and yet you're this incapable from telling even obvious totalitarian right-wing ideology and mild liberalism apart.

8:10: "It's so nakedly obvious how protective of the status quo these stories are."

This is, in a very abstract way, a valid criticism of Korra. This is a common problem in a lot of media, and Korra is far from the worst offender. I think it does breach past this to some extent, just not as much as I would have personally liked with all its seasons.

But make no mistake this is Lily again, taking something Lily has seen someone else say and putting that opinion through a blender.

Let's not beat around the bush here, Lily just wanted to bitch about Korra again. It's almost like she thinks if she repeats her idiotic media analysis enough, maybe THIS time people will realize how brilliant she is.

8:27: "A victim of abuse, torture or r@pe trying to kill her [only 'her,' huh?] abuser in vengeance is right to do so."

Okay, that's enough of this for now. Part 3 coming soon.

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thinking1bee · 6 months ago

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You Haven't Failed Part 4

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

You woke up to bright, warm sunlight filtering through the open blinds of the window. The space beside you was empty. You were beginning to stir, and the feeling of the cool sheets where Wanda’s body was supposed to be was what woke you up. She was gone, but on her pillow was a note. In her elegant cursive, you read what she wrote:

Good morning gorgeous!

I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to wake up next to you, but I got pulled away on assignment. Make sure to eat food and drink water. Nick mentioned that he wanted to see you for something so make sure you stop by his office. I made breakfast and placed it in the microwave for you to heat up. I love you so much.

-W <3

You smiled dreamily as you pivoted onto your back, and stared at the ceiling. Something about Wanda leaving you a note was so…romantic. You laughed softly as you thought about last night, and normally, something like that would have left you sore in the morning after, but you felt good. Great even. You weren’t even exhausted despite being up all night, and you stretched your entire body before throwing the blankets off you and starting your day. It was an hour by the time you made it to Nick’s office. You ate and showered before dawning your supersuit. True to what you told Wanda during dinner, Nick was partnering you up with Peter to sweep a 10-mile radius around Oscorp Industries. You and Peter high-fived in excitement. It’d been a while since you worked with the friendly, neighborhood Spider-man and it was going to be so nice to spend time with him. Though Peter was younger than you, he had his powers longer than you did, and he was the one to teach you everything that he knew.

You and Peter divided the work. You would take the northern half of the radius while Peter took the southern half. You were swinging in between buildings, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, while Peter talked to you via the comm in your ear.

“I’m just saying, Y/n. You should let Mr. Stark build you a suit. With access to nanotechnology and an AI, I’m sure he could make you something that you would like. It is certainly easier than wearing a suit under your clothing or having to change into one. Trust me, I tried that, and it was much more difficult than I thought it would be.”

You laughed, the visual of him struggling to get his suit on in some cramped, little space, entertaining you more than it should. Peter tried for years to get you to go to Tony. Even Tony himself approached you with various blueprints and drawings, saying that he was ready to do this the moment you were. You weren’t sure just yet. Having a physical suit was nostalgic to you, but maybe it was time for an upgrade. You were sure that Wanda was sick of smelling your suit every time you came home from work, though she did take it in stride.

“Maybe I will visit him,” you told Peter, and you could hear the excitement in his voice.

“Really?!”

“Yeah, I mean. I like your integrated suit.”

The blue, red, and gold colors were a nice touch along with all the gizmos and gadgets that were equipped to it. Admittedly though, it wasn’t your favorite. Your favorite suit that you saw Peter wear was the Iron Spider. If you were going to wear a new suit, you wanted it to look like that one. The sleek metallic look, and the way it looked like Tony’s Iron-Man suit really had you impressed.

“You won’t regret it. I promise! Besides my suit gives me an advantage that you don’t have.”

“What’s that?”

“FRIDAY gives me access to police scanners. There’s a fight between the police and some escaped convicts at the corner of 12th. I can meet you there?”

Damn. That was a nice perk. The moment he pointed it out, your spider senses went off just as you heard guns firing. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

You headed to the confrontation, and landed next to an officer that was taking cover behind his car.

“Hey one of the Spideys are here!” someone pointed out and you gave them a shy wave. You turned to the officer as you ducked with him.

“There are six of them. At least three have guns, while others have short, ranged weapons. Think you can take them?”

“In my sleep,” you said with a smile. “Just make sure you help the civilians.”

“You got it.”

He shuffled away from you, and you focused on the comm in your ear. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Peter answered. “I’ll be there in 10. Make sure you leave me some.”

“No promises if you take your sweet time getting here.”

Peter laughed before he turned his comm off. You took several deep breaths to prepare yourself. Your spider senses were going crazy, and you jumped to your feet and dodged right as someone tried to shoot you. You raised your arm and fired a web from your hand, the white fluid attaching itself to the gun right as you yanked it out of the hands of your target. You spun it around and launched it back at the person you snatched it from, and you heard the solid impact of metal against skin as it collided into his ribs. He choked on his next breath of air, his face turning a deep red color, before he collapsed onto his back.

“Aw shit, the Spider is here!”

You smiled beneath your mask and got to work. The two prisoners with guns aimed at you simultaneously and fired. You dodged the bullets easily, jumping and flipping out of the way. You shot two lines of web at them, each line attaching to their feet. You watched as they both looked at you, and then at each other before you grabbed the lines and threw them up into the air. They screamed in terror, and you shot more webs at them while they were airborne. The fluid wrapped around their bodies before attaching them to the nearest wall of a building. That was three down and no more guns. Three more to go. The crowd that was gathering around you cheered, and you knew that if Peter didn’t get here within the next minute, he was going to miss on all the fun. One prisoner with a crowbar tried to rush you, but you laughed. His movements were slow and clumsy as he swung the bar and missed. You easily punched him, your fist connecting solidly with his cheek, before he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Two more. One of the guys was immediately in front of you, and thinking nothing of it, you rushed him. In his hands was a wooden baseball bat, and before he could get close enough to swing it, you launched more webs at him. One of the webs crashed into the bat, and the solid wood was knocked into his forehead before the rest of the webs wrapped around his body. You watched as he went cross eyed before his knees buckled, his body folding like a lawn chair.

There was one more prisoner to go, and before you could even consider thinking about where he went, your spider senses fired off in your head. You don’t know why you did what you did. Any other time you would have flipped out of the way or webbed yourself to safety. You didn’t do either of those. Instead, you turned on your feet and faced the threat, right as that threat impaled you with a machete. The blade went clean through you, in and out. You gasped as blazing, fiery agony erupted to life in your stomach. Blood was quick to pour from the wounds, red staining your suit as you clutched onto the person that stabbed you.

“One spider down. One to go,” he spat as he twisted the blade. You screamed, the cheers from the crowd going silent.

You heard commotion, the attention of the police now on you as they all unholstered their weapons and pointed it at the convict.

“Go ahead!” he barked. “Shoot! Let’s see if you can hit me and not your precious, little hero.”

You’ve gotten your ass handed to you a couple of times, but you had never been stabbed before. It was more agonizing than people made it out to be. Whatever was said about it, did not do it justice. Your vision swam with tears, the pain so intense and nauseating that you thought you were going to pass out. Warm wetness continued to spread, more blood dripping and staining your suit. Stuttering breaths left you. You could hear Peter’s voice in your ear, but it was like he was speaking underwater. You heard his voice, but you didn’t hear his words.

The pain was growing distant, and you thought that it meant that you were going to die, when you felt something happening. Between your body and his, you heard something wet moving. At first, you thought that you were hallucinating, but you saw the prisoner’s face contort in fear as he looked down. He snatched his hand away from the machete’s handle and took a step back.

“What the fuck?!” he exclaimed.

You looked down and saw black, tiny tendrils of oozing mass wrapping around the blade. It traveled, thick and viscous, to the handle, the tendrils wrapping around and around as they moved. From behind, you felt the blade snap, the sharp clang of metal against the asphalt ringing out as the pain in your back disappeared, but you watched in shock as the tendrils flexed and began to push the other half of the broken machete out of your body. That, too, clanged heavily to the ground, the handle and the small bit of remaining broken metal, rolled to a stop to rest heavily in the street. Then, slowly, the tendrils retreated back into your body and out of sight. Your flesh wove itself back together, the pain completely gone. You stood there in a stupor before your hand smoothed down your stomach. Not even a scar. The only evidence of you being stabbed was the large, inches long gash through your suit, and the drying blood that surrounded it. That was all. Beyond that, you felt great, energized.

And pissed.

He just tried to kill you. While your immediate thought had been the pain, your thoughts now shifted to Wanda and how you wouldn’t have saw her again if you died. Though it’d been a few years since she was dusted, to you, it still felt like you just got her back. Now, someone just tried to take you away from her. A fury, the likes of which you hadn’t felt in a really long time, consumed you, and you saw red. You were going to end him where he stood, and you were going to ensure that he couldn’t do to anyone else what he did to you.

Though he couldn’t see your face, the prisoner saw the slow turn of your head as you faced him. He whimpered and started to back away, his hands raised in surrender.

“L-Look, I d-didn’t mean-”

You didn’t let him finish that sentence. You appeared before him in the blink of an eye, there and gone before he could comprehend, and you wrapped your hand around his throat. You hoisted him easily into the air with a grunt and watched emotionlessly as he choked. He tried to pry your hand loose from his neck, but he was too weak. Too feeble. Too breakable.

“D-don’t” he choked out, but you frowned.

“Why?”

You let that one question hang between you and him. His eyes widened, and you said nothing more before you slammed him into the ground. You crouched over his body, grabbed him by the collar of his prison shirt, and punched him again and again. With every connection of your knuckles against his face, a deep satisfaction filled you to the brim. He deserved this. He deserved this for daring to snatch your future with Wanda away like Thanos had. Punching him over and over, feeling his nose break and his jaw shatter beneath your strength filled you with happiness. You smiled as his head snapped back again and again. He went silent minutes ago. The crowd was eerily hushed behind you, and you watched with a sense of accomplishment as his blood splattered all over the ground.

“Stop! Stop!”

A hand grabbed your next punch before it could connect, and you almost retaliated against the person that dared to stop you, a growl leaving your lips, when you came face to face with Peter. You couldn’t see his face beneath his mask, but you could hear the horror in his voice.

“What are you doing?? You’re going to kill him!"

That had been your intentions, but for some reason, hearing it out loud was like an ice, cold bucket of water was dumped on you. The harsh reality of what you almost did dawned on you. You stared at the man, his face almost disfigured beyond recognition, and you could barely hear the beating of his heart. It was sluggish behind his ribs, and wheezy, gurgling breaths left his split lips as he lay unconscious in the street. When you looked down, you saw that his blood coated your hand. It drenched through the material of your suit. You could practically feel the cooling wetness of it on your skin. Your chest heaved as breaths sawed in and out of you, and you stumbled to your feet as you looked around. Everyone was staring at you with a mixture of shock, fear, and alarm. Even the police regarded you with guarded terror.

“Look, I-” you began as you took a step towards one of them, but he quickly raised his gun to you, the grip he had on it trembling with fright.

You stopped in your tracks and clenched your jaw. Then, you turned to look at Peter, who pointed his chin down the street.

“Go,” he whispered.

You listened immediately, and shot a web, grabbing it before launching yourself into the air.

Part 5

#ladies of marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem!reader #spidey!reader #venom!reader #graphic depictions of injuries #graphic depictions of violence #angst #so much angst #fluff #smut #violence #blood #feelings #lgbtqia

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years ago

Text

Mighty Fine (18+)

Just a little slump-buster ft. our favorite aviator. Taking requests for TGM and The Bear in my inbox. Smut ahead. Painfully pining Rooster. 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.

Title: Mighty Fine Caroline, see, Caroline - all the guys would say she's mighty fine WC: 3716

The Hard Deck was not in a poor financial state – in fact, since Penny took it over five years ago, she’d done better business than the establishment had ever logged.

Sure, some positive changes, listening to customer feedback and stocking just the right kind of beer helped. But Penny knew that for the past year, there was specifically one woman who helped bump sales big time.

And tonight, a Friday night ahead of the fourth of July, Penny knew they’d hit record numbers.

The leggy brunette flitted about the full bar – packed asses to elbows – with a smile that held a secret and lashes longer than a summer afternoon.

Caroline was all perfume and warm skin. A promise of what could be behind a beauty mark and cherry gloss.

Tonight she’d tucked her white tank into a pair of cutoff shorts and knotted an American flat bandanna around her neck, the tip of the triangle teasing her cleavage. The low-slung cowgirl boots did nothing to interrupt the long lines of her legs and she trusted them with each pivot she needed to make through the crowd.

When her attention landed on you, it felt like you were the only person in the room. She knew how to work a crowd. A small gallery assembled to watch her re-stock the tray of cherries – one of her favorite snacks throughout the night.

“Caro, sweetheart,” Penny called, topping of a lager pour.

“Penny, my love,” Caroline countered, popping the tabs on three ciders.

“Can you let me these men live for one night?” Her boss teased, nipping at the fabric around her employee’s neck.

“I can’t show my love for America the beautiful?” Caroline replied with a wink. Penny laughed with a shake of her head.

Caroline had started at the Hard Deck last summer, asking for a few weekend shifts – the ones no one else wanted to take in order to enjoy their own weekends – since her classes for UCSD ran from Tuesday through Thursday.

“Rent’s due this week, Pen!” Caroline called as she ducked under the counter, greeting her adoring audience as she head to the stockroom to grab a crate of Sam Adams.

Rooster entered the bar that night with his hopes high and his buddies trailing close behind.

He’d had his sights set on Caroline for months. A squeezed shoulder here, a bat at his biceps there and he was hooked. Sometimes he felt like a cartoon, floating behind her like a cherry pie on its way to cool in the open window.

“Oh Rooster, you’re so fucked,” Fanboy commented, catching sight of the brunette wonder first. She was pouring a line of shots across the bar top, handing them out to a group of sailors who wished she was their treat instead. Taking a clear glass for herself, they all clanked their shots before tossing them back.

Penny didn’t mind if Caroline drank on the job – she was a grown woman who knew her limits who could always use working as an excuse to get out of it.

“Here’s trouble,” Caroline announced, “G&T, Fanboy?” She asked as they saddled up to the bar – their first stop before heading back to the darts.

“Please,” Fanboy grinned, basking in the glow of her attention.

“A rum and Coke for Coyote, Hefeweizen for Phoenix and porter for my Rooster,” she listed off, gathering glasses and stationing herself over the beer taps. “That sound right?” She asked with a tilt of her head, locking eyes with Bradley.

“Perfect as always,” he replied, his honey brown eyes melting into hearts.

“Ladies first,” Caroline simpered, handing Phoenix her beer, “then, we go in order of beauty,” she added. “Fanboy,” she passed over the gin and tonic, “Coyote,” she listed next, giving his rum and Coke a swish, “and, last, but certainly not least, Rooster,” she pulled the tap of the porter, leaving just the perfect thin band of foam at the top.

“You trying to break my heart?” Bradley asked, leaning over the bar, willing her to lean in closer.

“I gotta keep you humble, Rooster,” she replied, pushing his glass toward him, “because I know they don’t call you that due to the size of your ego,” she said, turning on a heel to attend to the other side of the bar while Jimmy grabbed the trash to bring out back. Though she tossed a wink over her shoulder that made his upper lip tremble beneath his mustache.

“When you going to let me buy you a drink?” He called out, voice nearly blending in with the buzz of the bar. She shook her head with a laugh, focusing on the task at hand, but they both knew she heard him.

Rooster joined his friends back at the darts. The Fourth of July weekend was guaranteed chaos at the ‘Deck – not too unlike Homecoming weekend at UVA. Bradley loved the liveliness of it all. However, it meant that Caroline’s attention was pulled every which way except his.

“I just think if I could get her alone for 10 minutes…” he said, eyeing her hopefully as she moved about the establishment.

“Rooster, give it up, she’s way out of your league and half the bar in here is hoping she’ll go home with them tonight,” Coyote said honestly.

“You’ve been drooling over her for months,” Fanboy agreed, “it’s getting pretty pathetic.”

But Rooster was more confident than ever. He knew they’d be great together – he just had to show her.

A little time passed, they took up a game of darts and after not too long, Caroline found herself making a sweep for empty glasses.

“Another, Phee?” She asked Phoenix, who nodded with a smile.

“We’ll do another round,” Coyote supplied. Caroline stacked up empty glasses, swinging around the space, aware of Rooster’s eyes on her as he leaned against the side rail that ran the length of the back wall.

“Grab your glass?” She asked, matching his posture against the drink rail, her open hand effortlessly clasping a tower of glass. Rooster pushed his empty toward her, a little downturned twitch of his mustache giving him away. “Why so glum, Rooster? It’s the Fourth of July,” she said, a little pout on her lips that made his stomach flip. “Have to imagine it doesn’t get better than that, huh?”

“What’s it going to take for you to have a drink with me?” He asked. “You know I’m eyein’ you up every time I come in here,” he elaborated.

“Maybe,” Caroline began, “I don’t want to have a drink with you at my place of work?” She suggested lightly. “But if you invited me to Buzzards, your odds would be a lot better,” she shrugged. “Thanks for the glass, Rooster, you can pick up a fresh one in 10.”

Caroline flitted away, making her journey back to the main bar with two tall stacks in her hands, gracefully hip-checking the counter to step inside.

“Maybe you do have a shot after all?” Phoenix asked, raising her brows as she turned back to the game of darts at hand. Bradley’s eyes tracked her as she moved about, pouring beers and mixing cocktails, his eyes zeroing in as she popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth before doing the same to a young, blonde sailor on the other side of the bar.

He wiped the back of his mouth off, crossing the room and heading over to the piano, his first initial plucks of the keys enough to clue a patron in to pull the plug on the juke box.

He cleared his throat as the intro grew stronger and louder, some already recognizing the tune.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing,” he crooned. “But I know it’s growing strong.”

A few cheers rang out.

“Was in the spring, and spring became the summer, who’d have believed you’d come along?”

Caroline’s attention pulled over to the far wall, it now impossible to ignore with half of the bar singing Neil Diamond.

Hands, touching hands Reaching out, touching me, touching you

“Sweet Caroline!” Rooster belted, “good times never seemed so good!”

The crowd sang back, fists being pumped in the air.

So good! So good! So good!

“I’ve been inclined to believe they never would,” he focused his attention back down on his hands, but he could feel the brunette’s stare on the back of his neck.

Caroline shook her head, topping off another drink before grabbing a tall one and making her way through the crowd, which was packed near the piano as he carried on.

One, touching one

“Reaching out, touching me, touching you,” Rooster remained as focused as he could when he felt a paper-light touch travel across his the span of his shoulders, followed by a full beer being set on the top of the piano.

“Okay,” Caroline grinned, “you’ve got my attention,” she said, her arm resting across the top of his back. “So what are you going to do with it now that you have it?”

“The Deck is open until 11 – Buzzards is open till one, meet me there when you’re done?” He asked.

“I’ll be there,” she agreed, running her hand up his spine to squeeze the back of his neck. Rooster could barely keep playing as he nearly twisted his head all the way around to watch her walk away.

Buzzards Bar was different than the Hard Deck – younger, louder, and for Rooster, much less likely to run into his superiors. Sure, lots of sailors and aviators ended up there, but it wasn’t a dedicated bar like their usual haunt. Without the uncertainty hanging over his head, he really loosened up and had fun with his buddies at the Hard Deck, but they didn’t join him a Buzzards, opting to go find some fireworks instead.

It was 11:45 and Caroline hadn’t shown up yet, at least that he could see. He grabbed a round of drinks, another beer for him and a dirty Shirley for Caroline. If nothing else, he knew she loved cherries and this could be a pretty safe assumption.

Keeping a barstool warm near the back, Rooster’s gaze scanned the growing crowd on the dance floor. He could feel the air shift as Caroline approached the table, dressed in her same little outfit, bandanna around her neck like a little pack of goodies he’d like to unwrap. However, an unfamiliar man, who was standing just a bit closer to her than either of them liked, was closely trailing her. He was obviously trying to carry on a conversation with her over the loud bass of the music and she couldn’t be less interested.

Without effort or hiccup, Caroline waltzed right up to Rooster, standing between his legs that were angled outward on either side of his body, his feet on the bar of the stool. She leaned up against him, her elbows on resting on his thighs with her back to his front. Rooster’s arm immediately looped around her body, resting just below her neck, spanning across her chest.

The man immediately got the message and backed off, but she remained snug in his embrace when he walked away.

Caroline tipped her head back to look up at Rooster.

She knew she had a reputation as a flirt. It was silly to be a bartender and not take advantage just a little bit of what God gave her. But she loved Rooster’s attention. He was safe, simple and straightforward. He didn’t play games and treated her with respect.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she smiled, sending the breath rushing from his lungs.

“Happy Fourth,” Rooster said, using his free hand to offer her the cocktail.

“Mm, cherry – how’d you know?” She asked, taking a sip through the small black straw.

“Watchin’,”he replied, missing her warmth already as she put a little space between them, standing with her back to the dance floor.

“You watchin’ me?” She asked innocently enough, elbows on the high-top table. It took everything in him to keep his eyes on her face and not her cleavage that was winning the fight against her little white tank top.

“Hard to look away,” he said, taking a drink of his beer. “Though I think this is the most time you’ve ever spent looking back at me,” he added.

“Then you’re not as observant as you think, aviator,” Caroline said, setting her drink down reaching for his hand, pulling him off the chair and leading him into the throng of bodies. “Because I look at you plenty.”

Rooster was so surprised and exhilarated he wasn’t sure where to put his hands right away as she leaned back into him, moving her body to the beat of the song.

Cause great scenes might be great But I love your bloopers

“Rooster, relax,” Caroline purred as he ducked his head down to be closer to hers – his height difference over her apparent. She reached back, taking his hands in her and placing them on her body – one on her ribs and the other just inside of her hips. “You got me right where you wanted me.”

And perfect's for the urgent Baby I want forever

Caroline’s hands drifted up to cradle the back of his head, her back arching in the slightest. And while Bradley Bradshaw was a man of morals, they were mostly forgotten as he lowered his mouth to Caroline’s neck.

Caroline, don't you see that I want you to be mine?

“You request this one?” Rooster asked, his mustache ticking her in a skin, which immediately went to her nipples, hardening them beneath her tank.

“Just lucky I guess,” she breathed, rolling her head to the side to give him a little more access to her skin.

“I think luck follows you around,” he said.

“It must if you’re here with me,” she replied. Rooster didn’t even justify her comments with an answer. If she thought she was lucky because he was there with her, she wouldn’t begin to comprehend the amount of times he’d dreamt of this moment.

“Rooster?” She asked, threading her fingers through his hair, giving it a little tug as a test. The groan in her ear told her all she needed to know.

“Caroline,” he huffed out an exhale.

“I don’t want the rest of that drink,” she said, looking up to lock eyes with him. “I want you to put me in that big blue truck of yours and take me home.” Rooster felt his heart skip hard enough that it shot him with adrenaline.

“Honey, lead the way,” he replied, sober as a judge.

She’d seen the blue Bronco pull up to the Hard Deck a hundred times – it was as much a calling card of Rooster’s as his mustache or Hawaiian shirts. Now, she was thrilled to be inspecting the inside, her back to Rooster’s side with his arm draped over her shoulder again as she made the most of the bench seating.

Leading Caroline by the hand from the car to the house, she gladly stepped into his bachelor pad.

Rooster was just grateful that Bob was out of town for the weekend.

“Roommate?” She asked, walking along the picture rail in the family room – something Bob put up. It was mostly his stuff, anyway.

“You know Bob?” Bradley asked, tracking her movement as he stepped out of his shoes.

“Bob the sweetheart is your roommate?” She asked, looking over her shoulder, eyes dilating in the slightest as she took in the view. Rooster with his big shoulders, broad chest and handsome face – honey brown eyes focusing entirely in on her.

“Bob the sweetheart?” He asked, a small quirk to his lips.

“Bob the sweetheart, Bob the puppy dog…” she trailed off. “Pen and I have many nicknames for perfect Bob.”

“I think I’ve heard enough about perfect Bob,” Rooster said, advancing her like a predator stalking its prey.

“Want me to tell you what we call you behind your back?” She asked, a glint in her eye as he scooped her up with one arm, holding her tightly to his body as he carried her back to his bedroom.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“We – well, more like just me, because Penny babies you,” she screamed as Rooster gave her ass a hard squeeze. “But I,” she leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “I call you Oh My God Rooster,” she giggled, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. “Want to know why?” She asked.

“Tell me,” he said, kicking in his bedroom door.

“Because I always knew one day you’d make me say,” she fisted his shirt in her hands and tossed her head back, “Oh my God, Rooster!” She moaned, quickly gasping as he dropped her on his unmade bed.

“That shit isn’t fair,” he pointed an accusatory finger down at her before reaching for the fly on his shorts.

“Why not?” Caroline asked with a tilt of her head as she leaned back on her elbows.

“Because ever since you started at the Hard Deck, you haven’t given me the time of day,” he crawled over her on the bed, sealing his mouth over hers.

“I was avoiding you, I’ll admit,” she smirked, hips lifting as he began to pull her shorts off. “I knew as soon as this happened,” she paused, lifting his chin up to kiss her once more, “there’d be no going back.”

“You didn’t want to be my friend?” He asked, running his nose down her jawline as he reached behind her, pulling off her tank.

“Oh Rooster, we’re going to be much more than friends,” she purred, unhooking her bra. She reached for her little bandanna, but he stopped her.

“Leave it on, cowgirl,” he said, licking his lips. Stunned, he found himself down on the mattress, Caroline swinging a leg over his body to land gracefully on his hips. She pulled her bra down her arms and tossed it somewhere into the darkness – Bradley’s bedroom illuminated by the bright light of the moon through his window. He thought his tongue might roll out of his mouth like a yoyo.

“Does that make you my bucking bronco?” She giggled, reaching behind her to give his erection a quick, firm pump.

“Jesus,” he hissed, all the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Just Caroline,” she grinned maliciously.

“Why don’t you get up here and let me find out how sweet you are, Caroline,” he cajoled, tipping his chin up. The brunette threaded her fingers through his hair as she settled over his mouth, a long, low moan drawn from her lips as he licked a broad, flat swipe up the seam of her sex. Rooster’s hands slid around her sides and up to her lower back holding her body tight against his face.

“You’re never allowed to shave that mustache,” Caroline panted, followed by a high-pitched whine as she felt his whiskers against her clit. “Right there,” she mewled.

Rooster was a generous lover and apparently had a voracious appetite.

“Jesus Christ, Rooster,” she shivered as one of his thick fingers teased her entrance, circling her slowly as his lips cradled her clit. She could feel each and every one of his taste buds against her. “Roo, please,” she panted, “I want your cock.”

Bradley lifted her, a squeal on her lips as she landed back down on his abs. She couldn’t help but smile broadly at his wet mouth.

“If you smile at me like that again, I’m going to fucking marry you, Caroline,” he threatened, absolutely captivated by her.

She untied the bandanna from her neck, reaching down to cover his eyes and tie it loosely behind his head.

“Then don’t look, because I think I’m going to enjoy this a lot,” she said, smiling just the same as she lined up his cock and slowly sank down on it.

“You’re amazing,” Rooster crowed, “God you feel so good,” he said, hands resting on her soft thighs.

“You’re big,” she huffed, “like shit, Rooster, how do you have such good posture?” She asked, making him bark out a laugh. She settled herself all the way down and squeezed him on an upswing, making his abs flex as he tried to keep from busting immediately.

Leaning down, while still riding him smoothly, she pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek, tracing the line there with her tongue. He jumped as she dragged her teeth against his jawline, biting him gently while rolling his balls in her palm.

“Caroline,” he sounded worried, “I-fwa,” he lost his words as she did it again.

“Want me to stop?” She asked innocently enough.

“Don’t you dare,” he grunted while she tweaked his nipple.

“I can see it now,” she giggled, the action sending a ripple of pleasure down his spine. “C-a-r-o-l-i-n-e,” she twirled a finger across his pec.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he promised, a sweat breaking out across his brow. He could feel her fingernails just grazing his happy trail as Caroline circled her clit, wanting to meet him at his level.

“Rooster?” She asked, and he could hear the breathlessness in her voice.

“Caroline?” He countered, his face screwed up in conversation.

“Cum,” she commanded, finding her own euphoria, setting him off just moments later, thrusting up into her as he rode out his orgasm. Caroline grinned, pushing off his blindfold to reveal his beautiful face again. “Hi gorgeous,” she greeted, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

“What did I tell you about that smile?” He groaned, palming her ass in his hands.

“I know the consequences of my actions,” she sighed dreamily. Climbing off of Rooster, she wandered her way into the bathroom, cleaning up and grabbing the T-shirt that was slung over the bathroom door before pulling it on.

Rooster was sure he was delirious as she joined him back in the bed, hiking a leg over his hip and throwing his comforter over both of them.

“Rooster?” She asked, sparing a glance over at his alarm clock, which was flashing nearly two in the morning.

“Caro-line,” he sang back.

“I want my eggs scrambled in the morning,” she said, eyes closing gently as she curled up on his chest.

“Yeah? And what would you like to eat?”

#Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster #rooster smut #rooster fluff #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x ofc #smut head #rooster is a big simp

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darcytaylor · 4 months ago

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I am surprised Luke's team hasn't taken temp of the lukewarm reacting and lack of engagement on all things Luke + gf and worked to establish a new narrative for him. Even a lighthearted podcast guest spot would've made a big difference IMO. And if doing an appearance wasn't something he had in him, a few better instagram posts would've at least started setting up a new story around him and his career.

It took a bit for other season's leads to line up some projects, so they could've easily done a bit of a pivot in effort to clear up some of the subpar press around him in effort to set up whatever is up next for him.

Even his few posts since S3 came out don't seem to be well thought out, or that good of content.

I'm also desperate to know what the other Bridge cast thought about pap pics of him and his GF going out the day of the part 2 premiere lol. At best, it seemed sloppy and horribly timed, and at worst it seemed attention pulling and like he couldn't wait to get off the Bridgerton train.

It is a really sad situation to see play out if I am being honest. I just hope that his team do have a plan and maybe it isn't in motion yet. It could be that Luke's team knew he would be attending Rory's birthday party, so to wait it out just incase of backlash from that.

I don't think his team is stupid (and I know some people disagree), but they have been in the game for a long time. His team would know photo's would be shared on his friends social media accounts and I think it would be worse to have Luke make steps in a certain direction only to see a regression. I think that would have the potential to harm any plan that they may or may not have (while also making Luke's situation worse).

Luke's social media is interesting. I have said this before but I think that his decision to make it professional came a bit too late. He should have set it up that way long before the promo tour. But he probably wasn't completely sure until it was too late, and now it is clear he is having issues with his decision. He doesn't have jobs lined up other than Bridgerton season 4 (that we know of anyway) and his recent posts are subpar.

I also don't think Luke truly understood the potential for people to switch on his friend group (for the longest time people loved Rory, it's also been interesting to see that switch in the fans). He doesn't have the upper hand of his friends keeping his name out their, without it bringing drama and hate.

I am completely on Luke's side to want to distance himself from social media, but he's been put in a hard spot since his friends seem to be unwilling to not capitalize on him (even when they know it will not benefit Luke at this very moment). But I realize that they are also learning about the newfound fame of their friend, so it may just be a learning curve for them as well. (I do realize that their public persona's aren't doing them any favours and it's their actions that have made people come to this conclusion, but sometimes empathy is cool).

I do think that because of the backlash from Rory's birthday, Luke's team did contact him to make sure he is unseen in any of the photo's or video's. Or it's Luke's way of protecting his friends and asking them not to post any photo's or video's of him in them (does this make a difference at this point since they were caught by somebody else? Probably not).

I would assume that all of the Bridgerton cast mates think that the paparazzi walk on the night of the premier was unfortunate, and probably wish for it to have not happened. I agree with what you said - "At best, it seemed sloppy and horribly timed, and at worst it seemed attention pulling and like he couldn't wait to get off the Bridgerton train."

This was a very long winded response but I guess I had lots to say about this topic!

And as always, this is all speculation. I do not know any of these people personally. Could all of this be untrue, true or somewhere in between? Yes. So please keep that in mind.

#luke newton #bridgerton

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blackjackkent · 28 days ago

Text

We know we're going to the Counting House, and I tend to assume Jaheira knows where that is, so at least for the moment, Rakha is not thoroughly lost.

She is, however, chock to the brim with potential interests and has a knee-jerk reaction to basically everything, which means she is capable of being easily distracted on the way. There's a few things in Heapside that she doesn't have reason to investigate yet, such as Barren's Coop, so we'll have to come back to that later, but the next building over, however, DOES ring a bell:

Rakha learned about Felogyr's from Arfur's basement, where he was making booby-trapped explosive toys for refugee children. Rakha registered that Jaheira and Wyll were both pretty incensed by this, and additionally, she already killed Arfur for being a jackass and had his toybox blow up in her face in the warehouse, so she has a personal irritation with whatever conspiracy is being run out of this shop.

So she pivots off the path towards the Counting House and walks inside.

Nice as this sentiment is, I think the only way your shop could actually brighten Rakha's day is not a way that you would enjoy.

I think on some level Rakha IS curious about the fireworks. She's never seen them before and doesn't really know what they're for besides stuffing inside toys for hapless refugees. (Her companions, meanwhile, are being very careful not to startle her, given Rakha's predilection for spewing fire everywhere in the wrong mood.)

Wyll explains about holiday celebrations and setting off fireworks for entertainment, and I think he buys a few before they start their investigation and sets them off for her down by the water to show her.

The item description for this particular firework, called a "Popdrake," says that it inflicts "Color Spray" if it hits someone, which means that these are magically-infused fireworks. Consequently, Rakha immediately becomes absolutely fascinated with them. She makes Wyll go through the whole stack that he bought and watches with wonder as each magical explosion goes off, sending ripples through the Weave, a prismatic display far beyond what the others can see.

----

"I wish I could show it to you," she says absently to him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "How beautiful it is."

He smiles slightly. "I do too. But I like seeing your face, when you see things like that. You look really happy."

Her expression goes distant for a moment. "I don't want any of the rest of it," she mutters. "Just this. Just the magic..." A pause. "Do it again?" Another pause. "Please."

He lights another firework, watching it arc up into the sky above them. "If I had my way, we'd spend all afternoon at this, just to watch you smile," he murmurs. "Unfortunately... well, there was a bit of a problem buying them."

Her gaze clears and she looks at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"The proprietor is tadpoled."

-----

Sure enough, when Rakha re-enters the store and talks to the shopkeep directly, he gives her an immediate leering grin of recognition.

Narrator: You feel an all-too-familiar squirm in the recesses of your mind. He has a tadpole.

Ah-ha! A fellow friend of Gortash! Praise the Absolute! The man's voice rings cheerfully inside her skull. I have a special sample, available just for you, if you wish.

Rakha tilts her head slowly to one side. This isn't exactly the welcome she expected. "Sure," she says slowly. "Why not?"

He smiles unpleasantly. This one will be very useful against any and all enemies of Gortash. Be sure to be clear of its explosion area.

"Please enjoy responsibly!" he adds aloud in a cheery voice, handing a small package across the counter. "And nowhere near this establishment. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"What else do you do for Lord Gortash?" Rakha asks - aloud, which the proprietor does not like.

"What else? I don't know what you mean!" he says - still faux-jovially, but his eyes harden. "We're purveyors of smokepowder! Anything that can be lit, flamed, or fired up! Smokepowder is a beautiful mistress; she will not be limited to one form, and she is quite malleable in the right hands."

His eyes narrow and his voice rings in her head again. What are you really asking, friend of Gortash?

Rakha has already fully decided that the people in this building are going to die. This would be a killing with purpose; she saw Jaheira's rage at the explosive toys destined for children, and has heard Wyll explain that anyone aligned with Gortash must die for the good of the city. The only thing worth doing here is getting as much information as possible from them before destroying them.

So, while she's not normally given to deception, in this case she leans forward, folds her arms, sets her jaw, and speaks back into his mind in a low, resonant voice that is informed as much by the beast's neverending growl as it is by the tadpole's connection.

[INTIMIDATION] Your latest order is late. Gortash demands to know why.

The effect is immediate. The shopkeep's voice turns immediately terrified and ingratiating.

Forgive me. I did not know I had kept Gortash's humble servant waiting. You may bring this message to him - everything is right on schedule. The next batch will be dispatched within a tenday. Exceptional quality, if I do say so myself. The Gondians will know it when they see it. I believe that concludes this purchase order. We very much appreciate Lord Gortash's continued honoring of our humble establishment with his custom.

Not a lot of information, but it does further cement that these people are Gortash's allies. Also another reference to Wulbren's enemies, the Gondians.

Exploring the rest of the shop quickly - Rakha finds she can't get upstairs without violence, as she never got the password from Arfur. She has Jaheira distract the guard and then breaks into the basement, which is full of fireworks - and traps, like Arfur's.

In a hidden room down there, she finds a TREMENDOUS amount of smokepowder barrels, which after some consideration, she confiscates, smuggling them out the basement's lower door and back to camp. (Minthara gets assigned to haul them, because she is much stronger than Rakha is.)

She also confiscates all the fireworks and brings them upstairs, because she doesn't need giant smokepowder barrels for the ending that she has in mind for these friends of Gortash. The small ones she keeps for herself, for entertainment later in camp. The rest she carries upstairs, and, ignoring the questioning look from the proprietor, arranges them matter-of-factly around the shop.

Then, without a moment's hesitation, she walks out the door with her companions, waits until the child inside leaves as well, then turns, and fires.

Beautiful, Rakha thinks to herself, watching the Weave ripple dramatically around the building, prismatic and respendant, as the building conflagrates along with everyone inside.

(A/N: It took me several tries to do this successfully without any nearby civilians wandering into the blast radius; on the successful run, the explosion also killed so many of the people upstairs that it completed the "Investigate the Suspicious Toys" quest and only two bad guys were left for combat. :P Let's goooooo.)

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #i maybe spent too long on making this one happen lmao #fun though

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raayllum · 2 years ago

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Callum + looking away motif

In season four, Callum has a very specific pattern of body language in regards to when and how he looks away from Rayla (and when he doesn’t). Now, I’d noticed the importance of eye contact in Callum’s character before, as well as the Book One novelization in particular (separate from the series’ eye motif in general), in rather small ways, specifically in regards to the differences in his ‘confession scenes’ with Claudia and Rayla.

In his confession to Claudia, Callum repeatedly looks away from her. However, in both Callum’s accidental (3x04) and purposeful confessions (pictured above) to Rayla, Callum never looks away. He keeps his eyes on her, and stares into her eyes, the whole time, even as she’s befuddled or unsure.

So it was interesting to me to see how this reverse played out in season four, as well as how the motif was built throughout all previous three seasons. So let’s talk about it!

Now, it’s not as simple, of course, as maintained eye contact equalling intimacy with looking away being a lack of intimacy. There are plenty of scenes where Callum is facing characters and it’s not an emotionally intimate scene, or scenes where he isn’t but it is emotionally intimate. However, I do think that season two builds on this motif, as does season three, in ways that makes season four engaging with it at the forefront in ways that are meaningful and emotional (and indeed S4′s repetition is what made it click in my brain for the rest of the seasons in the first place).

So let’s talk about looking away as a turning point, severance, or lack thereof in S4.

Season One as a Turning Point

Obviously, much like in S4, Callum and Rayla’s bond starts with him turning around to face her, she takes off her hood, and their story with each other (already with its parallels and unique setup) truly begins.

And then we see the way Callum re-engages with this motif of turning to face her at crucial moments where their bond is being developed, particularly in 1x03.

But in some ways the most important scene with this “looking away vs looking towards” motif is when they’re in the dungeons, in terms of set up, foreshadowing, and communicating future dynamics without a word.

While on the surface Callum looking away from Claudia and to Rayla is just a storyboard beat, it also shows his processing and inclination. He’s listening to, and agreeing more, with Rayla in this instance over his childhood friend - and he will continue to do so, particularly in season two (which has its own parallel to this very scene).

We also see this continue throughout the season in small ways. Callum continually moves (often seen in the ‘chasing after her’ motif/pattern) to place himself in Rayla’s line of sight, most notably in the boat bonding scene in 1x05, placing his hand on her shoulder on the shoreline as well, and when he swallows his pride/reservations and hands the egg over to her as well.

He pivots and literally turns toward her in order to specifically highlight and strengthen their bond. But if season one is about turning toward as an aspect of bond building, then season two establishes looking away as an act of severance.

Season Two as Severance

Again, this isn’t something that doesn’t exist in season one. Rayla often looks away when putting up walls or boundaries to try and protect herself from Callum’s persistent (gentle) prying or ability to read her when she doesn’t particularly want him to.

However, season two is mostly when we see Callum employ looking away from people (Claudia, Rayla) in his own body language, in ways he just didn’t before in season one. Callum for better or for worse is typically very confrontational. His anger largely means pursuit, even if we start to see exceptions of when he’ll avoid things (mostly things he isn’t sure of how to process, like grief). Thus, when he walks away from Rayla in the beginning of 2x03, it’s a signal to us - or at least a way to instigate fear (and the fear that she’s feeling) that she’s losing him. He won’t look at her at first with her chasing after him, for once, and then he turns away from her entirely to walk back on his own.

And this perfectly parallels where he was an episode earlier: knowing he was hurting her, and unable to look at her while he did so.

C: I can see you believe it. But I’ve known Claudia and Soren for years. You and I... don’t have that yet.

So we’ve had Callum looking / walking away in attempts to create distance with Rayla, each time to no success, but where does that motif come in when he actually severs a bond? Well... It’s this one:

He turns away from Claudia and he never again treats her as a friend or with compassion (although we’ll have to see if that changes at all in S5, but I doubt it). While he briefly tries to reason with her in 4x08 (although he doesn’t have a lot of alternative options), it’s clear that the relationship is broken in 2x03 when you take a look at 2x07. But 2x03 begins and ends with Callum and Rayla’s dynamic becoming stronger.

His ending scene begins with him looking behind at the past (Claudia) and away from Rayla, and ends with him looking at Rayla as she literally turns him away from Claudia and toward her (and the future they could have together). Not only is it enough to raise his spirits, but we see this pattern be continued in S2 with Rayla turning him away from well, his self loathing, and toward her and whatever comfort she can provide instead.

Season Three as Continued Intimacy

Season three then continues this intimacy of eye contact and turning toward on another with, well, a lot more emphasis and scenes with maintained eye contact to begin with.

There’s not too much to say here, as it’s fairly self explanatory with our previous base, and I’ve already gone over how much Callum looks away while confessing to Claudia, in contrast to the continued and persistent eye contact he makes with Rayla. Once he looks at her on the ambler, he never looks away until after he’s kissed her and worries that he’s screwed up somehow. Therefore, looking away for Callum becomes a matter of either lovestruck shyness or well, lovestruck decisiveness.

So if looking at Rayla is chosen and continued intimacy, then not looking at her is

Season Four as Denied Intimacy

One of the first things I noticed about Callum and Rayla’s reunion is that, after the initial face-to-face shot of them gazing at each other (Rayla hopefully, and Callum shocked/tearfully), he can barely actually bring himself to look at her, even when he is unwilling to leave or unwilling to send her away. (Rayla can also barely actually look at him, instead looking often times at Stella, when she’s being more vulnerable in their reunion scene too, but again: smaller post for another day perhaps).

This is on par even with his conversation with Ezran in 4x01, in which he repeatedly looks at the moon and/or away from his brother, particularly in moments of vulnerability.

And Callum keeps looking away from her throughout the season, trying to put up walls or unable to take them down, even as he can’t bring himself to put anymore physical distance in between them after two years apart.

And al of this beautifully comes to a head in the parallels between Rayla’s decision to leave and Callum’s response to it in 2x07 and 4x09 respectively, a parallel I’ve pointed out many times before because it is always so poignant and heartbreaking to me.

Because after a season of denying his feelings, or trying to shut them down, or not wanting to deal with them, or any and all of the above... after a season of looking away...

He finally, finally, looks back.

And he doesn’t look away again.

Unlike in 4x03, he doesn’t try to leave. Unlike in 4x05, he lets her walk away but he watches her go to this time. He’s concerned primarily about her while everyone else is mostly relieved Zubeia has saved them. He’s the first to find her in the rubble. He holds on tight with both hands. Directs her gaze to him, and then hugs her.

Because he loves her. He always has. And “I’ll never able to look at you without loving you.”

Conclusion

This meta (like many others) doesn’t really have so much of a conclusion, as it’s a consistent enough pattern that, if/when you notice it, amplifies what’s already there, rather that indicating what may be. It’s not always this straightforward, and aspects of looking away vs looking at or toward weave in and out (Callum’s confession to Rayla in 3x05 starts off not looking at her, after all. That said, I do think the consistency is interesting, and it’s a ‘motif’ I’ll be keeping my eye out on, particularly as we move forward.

As always, thank you for reading & I hope you enjoyed!

#rayllum #tdp callum #looking away motif #arc 1 #arc 2 #s1 #s2 #s3 #s4 #parallels #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp meta #analysis series #analysis #caylangst

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tizzyizzy · 2 years ago

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There are two wolves inside me.

One says that the odds of Steddyhands happening are impossibly low. It’s just not the direction the show is going .

But the other wolf says...

This is How Steddyhands Can Still Win

1. Polyamory Already Exists in the Narrative

Polyamory isn’t really a thing in most TV shows. The narrative in the audience don’t expect it to be brought up as a possible, legitimate relationship dynamic.

But through Lucius, OFMD has introduced polyamory as a possibility into the universe. Not only that, Lucius tells Izzy, a man agonizing over his precious pseduo pirate husband falling for Stede. Was this this show planting the seeds of Izzy contemplating a Steddyhands dynamic?

2. Stede and Izzy’s First Meeting Was Turbohorny

When I first started watching this show, I knew that Stede ended up in a romance with Blackbeard, but I did not know when he would appear in the show or what he would look like. I wondered when Izzy appeared if this might be him. And holy crap, that first interaction did nothing to dispel that impression. Izzy ripped up Stede’s shirt in the style of Zorro. Stede said he’d enjoyed their encounter in a low, sexy voice. The rivalry style sexual tension was off the charts.

Sure, the rest of the season pivots to Ed and Stede, but that doesn’t mean the choice of first meeting with Izzy wasn’t significant. Stede even met and established a bickering dynamic with Izzy before meeting Ed. Maybe future seasons will pick this up again.

3. Ed Has Two Sides

While we all know that Izzy gave an ultimatum rejecting Ed in favor of Blackbeard, Stede kinda of rejected Blackbeard. Ed was having a great time with Calico Jack. He wasn’t being pressured into behaviors he wasn’t proud of or acting out due to heartbreak. He was surprised and baffled by Stede distaste for his violent behavior.

Wouldn’t it make sense for the people who are closest to each side of Ed to come together in some way? They could teach one another how to love and appreciate Ed in different ways.

4. Izzy Balances Them Out

Throughout the show, Izzy has been a spokesman for practicality and realism. It’s really sweet and charming that Ed began get understand one another and get along on their first meeting, but it’s clear they are both reckless in their own ways. Ed wants excitement, and is will to let his mood and whims govern his actions. Stede is naive and inexperienced in piracy. While there haven’t been any lasting consequences or much narrative weight to these issues in the first season, it seems like s2 is a good time to introduce Stede to the dangerous realities of piracy, and to show the consequences of what happens when a pirate doesn’t take their job seriously.

While Stede in particular will likely evolve on this matter, I doubt he’ll even play the role of cynical realist trying to keep everyone alive. They both need that person. Why not Izzy?

5. Ed and Izzy Were Happy Once

Well, happy is probably not the best word. But from Izzy’s loyalty and Ed’s reliance on him, it seems likely they had a closer relationship that soured over time as Ed lost enthusiasm for piracy and continued to neglect Ed in favor of Blackbeard.

While it has sad moments, OFMD is a romance and a comedy that will likely end with all sympathetic better off than they started. For Ed and Izzy, that naturally seems to be a better, stronger, more genuine version of their current relationship. And if Izzy is Ed’s metaphorical pirate husband, then the end point would be a happy, healthy, pirate marriage.

#steddyhands #ofmd #Our Flag Means Death #izzy hands #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #coping so hard

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mandiemon3 · 1 year ago

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The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 3

“Hello, Mr. Hands-shit, Izzy, I mean. Fancy seeing you here.” Mo leaned against the railing along the side of the ship next to the first mate.

He smirked. “You’re trying hard to keep that casual, aren’t you?” They shrugged. “Yeah, I didn’t want to ruin my line over one blunder, you know what I mean?”

“Sure.”

“Well,” Mo nudged him gently with their elbow, “what are we learning tonight, Izzy?”

He pushed off the railing, turning to walk towards the steps up to the quarterdeck. “We are going to start,” he said, picking something up, “with you showing me your knife skills.” He handed the blade to Mo. “Always best to start with establishing what you already know. Go on,” he nodded towards the mast, “throw it.”

Mo took a few steps further away from the mast. They turned, making sure to set up their posture properly. They set their right foot at a 90 degree angle, putting their left foot in front of them pointing towards the mast. They squared their shoulders, pulled back, and flung the dagger. It stuck squarely in the mast with a dull thud.

“Not bad, for a beginner.” Mo turned to look at Izzy, pleased to see a slightly approving expression on his face. “Of course, in real combat, there would be guns firing, people jostling you, and no time to think.”

“I’ve faired decently well in circumstances like that, sans gunfire,” Mo said. “’Course, that was on land, without the whole world rocking under my feet. But hey, stabbing is stabbing, no matter where you are.” Izzy smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve stabbed someone? You, the little ray of sunshine pirate on the unicorn ship?” Mo grinned, despite his sarcastic tone. “You wouldn’t have guessed, would you? Yeah, let’s just say that piracy wasn’t always my first choice. It was more of a last ditch effort to not die back in my old hell hole.” They sighed quietly, looking out at the moonlight reflected on the water. “At least if I go out here, it would kind of be on my own terms.” They turned back to smile at Izzy. “I’m far from the first pirate with a tale of woe, I’m sure. And I’m sure I won’t be the last.”

Izzy didn’t seem to know what to think. His eyes flitted around, never quite settling on anything, his expression blank. “Who did you stab?” he finally asked, eyes locking onto Mo’s. Their heart thumped loudly in their chest when they saw that there was no anger or suspicion in his gaze.

For once, it was Mo who looked away. “That, my dear, might be a story for another day. I will say though, I’d do it over again in a heartbeat. Now,” they said, clapping their hands, “back to work. I’d like to learn something before I have to go to bed.”

Still Izzy stared. “Very well,” he said, his eyes not leaving them. “Let’s see how you are with hand to hand.”

Mo grinned. “Ah, now you’re talking.” They stepped into the center of the deck, rolling up the sleeves of their tunic-like linen shirt. They brushed their short hair back before taking a fighting stance. Izzy mirrored their actions, neatly folding his long sleeves, but didn’t strike.

“Hit me,” he ordered.

Mo stepped to the side, pivoting around him, looking for holes in his defense. They feigned a left hook before side stepping and swinging with their right arm. Izzy started to block their feigned attack, but quickly adjusted and blocked their strike with his left arm while striking Mo in their stomach with his right. Mo gasped as the blow landed.

“Jesus fuck, Iz!” they panted, cradling their abdomen. “You really didn’t hold back much, did you?”

“You don’t learn from restraint,” he said evenly, raising his arms back to their defensive stance. “Try again.”

Mo looked up at him, then slowly straightened back up, raising their arms defensively. They quickly stepped towards Izzy, forcing him to take a step back. They aimed a punch at his face, banking on him blocking their swing. When he did, they shot a leg out, and hooked his ankle out from under him, forcing him down onto his knees. They slammed their left fist into his chest, taking advantage of his instability to knock him onto his back.

Izzy groaned as his back hit the deck, but wasted no time in grabbing Mo’s ankle to take them down with him. Mo kicked as they fell, aiming for his stomach. They grinned when they made contact, knocking another huff out of the pirate. They took the chance to attempt to pin him, using the momentum of the kick to roll him onto his stomach and clamber onto his back. Before they could pin his arm behind his back, he threw his head back, knocking into Mo’s forehead with enough force to disorient them. With a great heave, Izzy flipped onto his back, pining them underneath him. He twisted off of them, flipping over, and grabbed both of Mo’s wrists to pin over their head. Mo thrashed, bringing a knee up to hit him in the crotch, laughing in a short burst as the blow landed and he groaned, but was unable to escape his iron grip.

With a thud, Izzy pinned Mo’s hands, using his weight to suppress any further escape attempts. Mo looked up into their captor’s eyes as they both fought for breath. His eyes gleamed, grinning at his victory, his face red from exertion as he took rapid breaths. His normally neat hair had fallen down in strands around his face.

Mo laughed breathlessly. “Good to see I gave you a workout.”

Izzy chuckled. “Well, you still have a lot to learn, but that was…a lot better than I was expecting.”

“You don’t learn from restraint,” Mo reminded him teasingly. “It’s about time you learned anyway, Izzy. I’m a scrapper.” They took a moment to catch their breath and slow their heart rate, before clearing their throat.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind,” they said with a grin, “please get off me before Lucius sees us and gets the wrong idea.” Their grin widened as they saw the flustered look on the first mate’s face. “Or stay, if you’d like, but you’d have to explain it. Gods know I deal with enough from him on the daily.”

Izzy released Mo’s wrists and rolled off of them. The two laid on the deck for a moment, staring up at the night sky.

“It’s nice out tonight.”

Mo was surprised to hear Izzy say something nice about the weather. He usually only discussed work matters, they’d noticed. Not wanting to ruin the moment, they decided not to comment on it, choosing instead to see how long the peaceful moment would last for him.

“You’re right.” They sighed. “Y’know, back when I was on land, I always dreamed of seeing the sky at sea like this.” Izzy glanced them.

“Well?” He asked gruffly. “Does it meet your expectations?”

Mo grinned. “It does tonight. Could have been a bit more comfortable if I didn’t just get pummeled, but hey, I’ll take my wins where I can find them.” They looked over at Izzy. “Hey, do you know much about the stars? Like, constellations and stuff like that?”

“I’m a pirate,” he said lowly. “The stars are the way most of us navigate.” He sighed wearily. “I know a good number of constellations, but that’ll have to be a lesson for another night.”

Mo frowned as Izzy sat up and climbed to his feet.

“Come on,” he ordered.

Mo groaned before dragging themselves up, gripping their sore abdomen. By the time they made their way to their feet, Izzy had retrieved a bottle of dark liquid from the quarterdeck and stood by the railing. He took a swig as he watched them walk over to join him.

“You going to share that?” Mo asked. Izzy handed over the bottle and watched as they took a big swig, grimacing slightly as the alcohol burned their throat. They took a second drink before handing the bottle back. “You really weren’t holding back?” they asked as the burning faded.

“I held back by not stabbing you.” Mo laughed. “Or snapping your neck. Other than that, no.” “Well, I guess I did pretty well then. I almost had you for a moment there.” Izzy scowled. “Well, it was up in the air for a moment at least, with who would win. I did almost pin you,” they pointed out. Izzy nodded reluctantly. “Given you’re much more experienced than me, and a good amount larger, I’ll consider this a win.” They grimaced as they shifted, holding their rips carefully. “Though I feel I might be reconsidering it when I’m all bruised in the morning.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Izzy hesitated, swirling the contents of the bottle in his hand. “I realized, earlier today, I don’t remember your name.” Mo placed a hand over their heart, and gave a dramatic gasp. “Oh my, and here I was thinking I was really getting through to you, Izzy,” they said sarcastically. They stuck a hand out to him, dropping their act and giving him a smile. “It’s Mo. Mo Berch.”

Izzy faltered before taking their hand and shaking it. He had a strong handshake, gripping their already bruising hand tightly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Izzy Hands.”

Mo pulled the bottle out of Izzy’s hands, taking one more drink before pushing it back against the man’s chest.

“Well,” they said, groaning as they pushed off the railing, “as fun as this has been, I do believe it’s time for me to go to bed. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” “Bright and early,” Izzy responded, the corners of his lip upturning.

“Sleep well, Iz.”

Mo hobbled across the deck to the door leading down to the bowels of the ship, ignoring the burn of Izzy’s gaze on their back. Despite the pain, they couldn’t help but smile as they made their way to the room the crew shared. They did their best to sneak across the room to their sleeping place between Frenchie and Roach and laid down, wincing as Frenchie sleepily wrapped his arms around them.

The next day was rough for Mo, their body covered in dark bruises from their fight with Izzy. Frenchie immediately noticed upon waking up, asking about the bruise on their forehead from being headbutted. His voice was hushed with worry as he asked what had happened, cradling Mo’s head on his lap and brushing their hair away from the affected area. Mo had promised to explain later on at lunch, where they could have a bit more privacy than in their cramped shared room, but had made sure to reassure him that they were fine, and nothing bad had happened. Frenchie had frowned, still not convinced, but had decided to drop it after pressing a kiss to their temple. Mo had held his hand and kissed his knuckles, smiling up at him.

Despite the pain, Mo felt good. They had gotten Izzy to agree to teach them in the ways of pirating, and faired well against the experienced pirate in a fight. They thought they might have even impressed him a little bit with how long they lasted before being pinned, and had done decently with their knife work as well. Even better, their night time lesson seemed to have warmed Izzy up, not enough for the rest of the crew to notice, but enough for Mo to. He made more eye contact, and was less aggressive, at least with Mo. He even returned a small smile or two throughout the day, though he was quick to turn away as though he was afraid someone else would see.

After several hours, it was time for lunch. Mo and Frenchie walked to the galley together, like they did everyday. Frenchie plopped down on a bench, letting his friend settle down before propping one of his long legs up on their lap. He looked at them expectantly, waiting for them to finally tell him what had happened for them to have so many bruises appear overnight.

Mo rolled their eyes. “Frenchie, dear, please at least let me eat something before making me talk.” Frenchie sputtered, before stammering out an “Of course.” He stood up quickly get them both some food. By the time he returned with two plates of food and two mugs he held carefully, Lucius had taken a seat across from their spot at the table. Frenchie greeted his friend as he slowly set everything down, sliding a plate and mug in front of Mo. He settled back down, smiling as Mo leaned against his shoulder and murmured a thanks.

“So,” Lucius said, taking a sip of his grog, “someone going to explain to me what’s going on with all the bruises?” He looked Mo up and down, ignoring Frenchie’s frown and protective arm around them.

Mo sighed, dropping their head as they considered. “Sure,” they said. “I suppose you might as well hear too.” They took a quick bite of bread before beginning their explanation. “Long story short, Izzy and I got into a fist fight last night.” Lucius’ hands flew to cover his mouth, his eyes wide. Frenchie’s grip on Mo’s shoulder tightened, and they gasped, realizing their blunder.

“Wait, wait, wait!” they said quickly. “I said that the worst way, he didn’t jump me or anything! I agreed to it!” Lucius’s hands stayed over his mouth, but he squinted in confusion. “Basically, I asked Izzy for some help learning some basic sailing and pirating skills, and he suggested we work on my fighting. So, we fought, and, as you might have guessed, he won.” Mo chuckled, raising a finger as they spoke. “I would like to add though, I did really well, given I was up against Blackbeard’s first mate. If he didn’t fucking lay on me, I might have won, but I couldn’t shake him off once he did that.”

Frenchie rubbed their shoulder, still looking thoroughly taken aback. “You sure you’re alright, babe?” he asked gently. “That guy looks like he hits hard.” Mo nodded. “Believe me, he does. But yeah, I’m okay,” they assured him, giving him an appreciative smile. They gently nudged him, nodding towards his plate. “Now eat your food, before it gets cold.”

They took another bite of bread before looking back up to Lucius. He had finally lowered his hands, revealing a smirk.

“So…,” he drawled out, trailing his fingertip across the tabletop, “Izzy pinned you down, huh?”

Mo narrowed their eyes at his tone, chewing their bread before swallowing. “Yeah? So?”

“Oh, nothing. That totally seems like a normal thing to do. Especially given all those glances he’s been sending your way all day.”

Mo snorted. “What are you implying, Lucius?” They took a drink from their mug. “Does Izzy have a crush on me now?” Their tone was mocking. “Because we had one fight and he’s looked in my direction a few times? Did it ever occur to you he was just doing his job as first mate, making sure I’m keeping up with my duties after our fight, that I’m not struggling too much?”

Lucius raised his eyebrows, looking down at his fiddling hands. “Yeah, love, I’m sure that’s it. Totally nothing else going on.”

Mo rolled their eyes, but smiled. “You, my friend, are ridiculous.”

Lucius shrugged. “I’m just saying, if he injured one of the rest of us, I doubt he’d spare a glance, let alone practically stare all morning.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m the only one who doesn’t openly mock him,” Mo retorted, taking another drink.

“He’s also probably got a special interest,” Frenchie chimed in, still chewing. “Y’know, seeing as you’re one of our best fighters. You’re closer to what he’s used to. He probably doesn’t want to break you and leave him with the rest of us.”

“Well, you can’t blame him for that,” Mo joked. “Being alone with you guys all day? Ugh.”

Lucius shook his head. “Deflect however you like, babes. But these eyes,” he gestured to his face, “see something here.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “And when something happens, you have to tell me. There’s so little drama out here, it’s killing me.” Mo rolled their eyes, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Fiiiiiine. If something happens, I’ll let you know. Though you’d probably just get a live viewing, since you’ve apparently been stalking me.”

Lucius frowned. “I can’t help it if that weird little man is one of the only interesting things on this ship.”

“I’m just glad the weird little man isn’t making me do hard labor today,” Mo said. “I think he’s going a bit easy on me since my abdomen is all bruised. Can’t imagine what would have happened if he didn’t hold back at least a little.”

Frenchie raised his mug. “Here’s to hoping he chooses something calmer, like fishing, for tonight.” “I’ll drink to that.” Mo clinked their mug with Lucius’ and Frenchie’s before downing its contents.

#ofmd #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands x oc

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vanguardangel · 2 years ago

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Could you write something about being the ptsd counselor on mother base?

Being a PTSD counselor on Mother Base

IT TOOK FOREVER BUT I DID IT! Oh gosh, it's been so busy at the clinic I work at. Flu season has arrived everyone! Be safe and be healthy! I genuinely hope this was good, I'm still kinda unsure about this, but I did my damndest! As always, feel free to screm at me if I got something wrong.

(Important disclaimer: I’m not at all a licensed professional regarding mental health. PTSD is something that I take fairly seriously as it has affected both my father, an Army veteran, and my friends who have childhood PTSD. If you or someone you love is experiencing PTSD or any other sort of mental distress, I highly encourage you to reach out to a counselor, psychiatrist, psychologist, or even someone you trust to talk to. You’re worth it.

On a side note, remember, this was in the 70s-80s, and modern mental health resources were still in their infancy. PTSD wasn’t even included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, or DMS, until 1980 after research involving returning Vietnam War Veterans, Holocaust Survivors, and others and the link between war trauma and post-military life was established. It wasn’t even taken out of the anxiety category until the DMS-5 in 2015.)

Ho boy, you have your work cut out for you. Being a PTSD counselor on a normal military base is incredibly difficult. But being the counselor for Big Boss and his army? That’s one hell of a task.

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of war, misunderstanding of mental health

MSF (Peace Walker)

The 1960s and 1970s were pivotal times regarding PTSD treatment. Growing evidence from 1968 was revealing that trauma was associated with psychological symptoms, though further research was escalated by the signs of active and returning US soldiers during the Vietnam War. Preventative measures for “shellshock” or “gross stress reaction” were implemented during this time, but it was clear that it was only delaying the long-lasting symptoms. And not even the MSF led by the legendary Big Boss was immune to it.

You originally started in the MSF as a medic, preferring to take care of the injured rather than taking life. Eventually, your bedside manner and commitment to making sure your patients were okay both physically and mentally even after leaving the Med-Tent caught Paz’s eye, and she recommended that you be placed in charge of counseling soldiers that were in between deployments. Considering how much he’d been through himself, I don’t think Big Boss hesitated before allocating the appropriate funds for your new job and education.

Despite backing from Big Boss, your start was a bit rocky. Despite the fact you were the same person who helped them in your time of need, most of the base kind of avoid you, not wanting to be “psycho-analyzed” or labeled as “crazy.” Very few came to you voluntarily, often having to be ordered to talk to you by either their commanders or by another medic. No one was being intentionally ugly or cruel to you, but rather didn’t truly understand that your job was to just keep doing what you’ve already been doing; you just now got a title, better pay, and access to education. Eventually, they all came around thanks to your history as one of the medics and began to truly value you as someone to rely on with even their darkest nightmares.

Kaz will occasionally come to you when the nightmares get too much, but he’s much happier talking to you outside of your “office hours.” It just feels more real to him. He will more than likely playfully flirt with you too. Ocelot will probably steer clear of your work but will still be quite friendly toward you. Considering his track history though, I wouldn’t put it past him to maybe pry into some of the secrets you’ve been entrusted with (keep your documents under lock and key!). But one of your most common visitors is Big Boss himself. At first; he wasn’t too keen on divulging his inner dilemmas to you, rather using the time to just…relax. Talk about something else besides the mission and the battles. That is until things start to become too much.

Big Boss will eventually trust you enough to open up about some of his more distressing thoughts. Despite his steadfast determination throughout the series; I always felt as though Big Boss was constantly at war in his mind, always trying to determine what was best to fulfill The Boss’s dream. He’ll share that inner conflict with you and try hard to take every bit of advice you give him. Depending on how close you get and how much trust you earn from him; you may end up being the only one who truly knows what happened in that field of white flowers. Don’t be alarmed if he disappears for a few days after that. It took a lot out of him, but he’ll be back. Congratulations! You just earned the unwavering trust of the Man who Sold the World!

Overall, despite your rocky start on base, your work as a counselor will end up being considered invaluable. Many soldiers will end up giving you the nickname “Doc” even if you don’t have a doctorate. They’ll invite you to the mess hall and sometimes leave little gifts in your office. Even the Boss will leave you flowers and maybe even a few Calorie Mates.

Mother Base (The Phantom Pain)

Honestly, you weren’t expecting that call from Kaz. How long had it been? Ten years since that horrific explosion? At this point, you were working professionally as a counselor, but you just couldn’t stay away. Not when you learned Big Boss was alive. And not when Kaz sounded so…broken.

Your reunion with Big Boss, Kaz, and Ocelot was…bittersweet. Despite welcoming you with open arms, they maintained a fair amount of distance from you for the first few months. Considering what you all went through, it was understandable.

This time, many of the soldiers were easier to convince to come to see you (it helped that Ocelot pretty much ordered them to after almost every mission). Speaking of Ocelot, he made a consistent effort to

Kaz was the first to come to you, not as a patient, but as your commander. Even behind his sunglasses, his gaze seemed harsher. Ice settled in your stomach when he demanded absolute loyalty to the Diamond Dogs before promptly leaving your office. But as the months wore on, you two eventually fell back into your old habits. His nightmares had gotten even worse, compounding with his capture, torture, and loss of limbs, but you had gotten even better at your job with your experience. And to say Kaz was happy to have you back in his life is an understatement. You’re getting a homemade burger from him almost every week.

Ocelot was his usual friendly if somewhat slightly unnerving self. It was insanely impressive how well he had taken the entire last years, especially considering how devastating the attempt to rescue Paz and Chico went. Still, he was immensely grateful to you for taking care of the soldiers. Expect him to bring D.D. around for playdates.

Then there was Big Boss. You were worried from the beginning as the man you knew as Big Boss was and was not Big Boss. Most of his memories were the same, even his demeanor and mannerisms seemed identical. But during your sessions, little things did not seem to add up. They were minor inconsistencies, such as remembering specific conversations you had or nightmares you talked about. At first, you chalked it up to memory issues from the coma and simply continued to help him. It was a strange feeling, as though you were meeting him for the first time all over again. Once again, though, you found a fast friend in Venom. Sometimes, your sessions would even be just sitting in each other’s company, listening to his Walkman.

Quiet will absolutely be curious about you. From what I can gather, I don’t believe Cipher had any sort of counselor. At least one that cared as much as you did. Do you ever feel like someone is watching you? More than likely it was Quiet while she’s invisible. After deeming you safe, she’ll start to interact with you. She opts to draw to communicate her thoughts to you. She’s not the best artist, but she’s so proud every time she draws something that you can completely understand. You’ll always be safe with her watching your back.

When you finally discovered the truth about Venom, you felt more sadness than shock. You spent so much time with the man, helping him unravel the maelstrom that was his mind, only for him to seemingly lose trust in everyone. Kaz will try and convince you to leave. Venom himself states that while he will miss you, he will not blame you if you leave. Instead, he will thank you and hand you a copy of the songs you listened to together.

Sources:

#mgs x reader #metal gear x reader #metal gear headcanons #mgs headcanons

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