Today’s thought:
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (except for our marriage that part is very much coming home with us) scenario:
Idk, just thinking about the various guys going out to party in Vegas (maybe after a lengthy job being successful, maybe a birthday or something) only to wake up married (like actually legally binding married, not just a joke wedding officiated by Elvis) to the person they’ve been eyeing for a while now, not having the slightest idea what happened the previous night.
-🐸
Also I saw that art, I need yall to know I almost shrieked in the middle of the very quiet lab I work in.
[post writing note: so many words… very sleepy now]
oh, you know I have to include Horangi in a Vegas fic🎲ヽ(´▽`)/🃏✨
Vegas Wedding Bells
what’s the worse that can happen after celebrating in Vegas? going back to spend your honeymoon at base? Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin
CW: fem!reader, getting married while intoxicated, suggestive
Simon “Ghost” Riley:
the dull ache in his head was the first thing he noticed as he woke up, bright beams of light aggravating a headache as he groans. the body tucked against him was the second thing he noticed, bare skin warmed by bare skin. that caught his attention
when Johnny decided Simon - the birthday boy - needed to loosen up for his special day he scoffed, “‘M turnin’ thirty-two, Soap. I don’t do birthday parties.”. he thought that all the way to America, grumbling when the team boarded the plane. his two saving graces were getting an aisle seat and sitting next to you
“Ghost, it’s not that bad.”, you chuckle, watching as he crosses his arms - for a man that large and intimidating, he was acting like a pouting child. “Could be havin’ a beer at the pub.”, he remarks, eyebrows knit as someone’s carry-on bumps his shoulder, “Soap’s lucky I ‘aven’t wrung his neck.”
the flight itself wasn’t so bad, no crying children or loud snoring. by the time the flight landed at Harry Reid it was dark out, Johnny dragging everyone towards the hotel. you barely had time to shower and change before you were wrangled out to a casino. “Soap, m’not gamblin’.”, Simon huffed, looming next to the Scot as they passed row after row of slot machines
Simon held true to his word - he didn’t gamble. he got shitfaced
the night went by in slow motion, bleary eyes and drunken laughter ringing throughout the group. Simon didn’t know when it happened - when he got separated from the group, when he took your hand in his and left the building. he didn’t remember whisking you away to the nearest church - a real church, he didn’t remember gruffly asking for someone to officiate the sudden ceremony. he definitely didn’t remember shaking down some poor stranger on the street to be your witness, “Gotta— we gotta ‘ave someone watch… yeah? I’ll uh— I’ll grab someone, lovie.”
but, as you moved in his arms, the glint of a pretty little gem on your finger had his eyes widening. moving slowly, trying not to wake you, he lifts he own hand - a gold band snug against his ring finger. it’s not like you weren’t close to Simon, quite the opposite
he’d been meaning to ask you out for a few months, never quite working up the nerve to. now? he’s cussing himself out in his head - married before the first date, drunken vows. your back is to his chest, arms cradling a pillow as you sleep. it’s only when you yawn and shift in his arms does he completely freeze, your tired eyes looking up at him
it doesn’t help when you snuggle up to him, eyes closing as you tuck yourself against his chest. heart hammering, he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it. at a loss for words, his gaze travels back to his ring adorned finger - fuck, would you be pissed when you realize? he’s liked you for so long and he blows it by marrying you in Vegas?
“Simon?”, you murmur, turning in his arms, chest to chest - still skin to skin, “What time is it?”, a groan leaving your throat as the sun peaks out from behind his hotel room’s curtains. he can’t bring himself to look down, your bare chest to his. when he tries to shift back a little, aiming to sit up, does he realize a third thing - when had he taken off his mask?
dirty blonde, close-cropped hair messy against his pillow. scarred skin bare for your view. nervous brown eyes looking down at your sleepy form
he doesn’t know what to say, too much information being realized all at once. it doesn’t help when you hum softly, rubbing the corner of your eye, soft-spoken words leaving your lips - his cheeks heating up and hands a little sweaty at your words
“S’not nice to ignore the missus, Simon.”, you say, voice raspy with exhaustion
John “Soap” MacTavish:
it was a short deployment, but it had TF141 scrambling to stay alive - practically a week in hell. a hail of gunfire on Tuesday, a close call Wednesday, the group getting separated for two days. it was a miracle that everyone made it back in one piece with just scrapes and bruises
it was a mumbled joke - you didn’t think it would be taken seriously, “We’re lucky as hell, should take a trip to Vegas, huh?”. despite the aching muscles the group sustained, bumps and bruises, you were swept away to an airport. it was too early for this, but it was too late to back out - Price and his need to get to the airport at four in the morning
“S’not that bad, bonnie.”, Johnny shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he tucked you against his side. between Johnny and Kyle’s chipper mood, Simon’s grumbling, and Price double checking passports and tickets, you were content to just go along, “Soap, I love you, but it’s too early for this.”
he laughed, a little too loud for the early morning crowd - you didn’t catch the way his cheeks heated up though. “Lighten up, mo ghaol.”, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips when he heard you confusingly mutter, “Mo ghaol?”, under your breath. he’d tell you what that meant in the future
the flight itself was fine, Johnny sat behind you. he made it a little game - passing notes up to you from between the chairs, giving the back of your seat a nudge every once in a while. when he passed out halfway through the flight you caught a couple hours of peace… if you could ignore his snoring
by the time the plane landed and everyone was settling down in the hotel, Johnny was raring to go. quick knocks on your door followed by him calling your name - a little too loud for this time of night
Kyle was busy unpacking while Simon and Price had retired to bed - poor John, all alone and left to his own devices. he already had a plan, taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the hotel. a fun night of bar hopping and getting tipsy, his treat
Johnny was confused when he woke up in a hotel room - definitely not the one either of you checked into with the group— wait, what’re you doing wedged against his side? he tried to sit up, the sharp pain in his temple making him stop. how much did he drink? he was at a bar with you, then he blinked and woke up here
bringing his hand up to rub his face, Johnny pauses when he feels cool metal touch his cheek. pulling his hand back a little, his eyebrows shoot up when he sees the ring on his finger - freezing when he remembers— oh no
he’s sitting up quickly, the pain in his head be damned. looking down at you, oh, you looked so peaceful, his breath hitches. there on your cute little ring finger, a matching gold band with a pretty little gemstone. “Ah— shit.”, he mumbles, mind a little fuzzy as snippets of the night come to the forefront of his mind
married - legally wed at the church around the corner. some dingy little say-the-vows wedding house wouldn’t do for you. Johnny, sweeping you both off in a drunken stupor, insisted that you deserved a real, good old fashioned church wedding… not before swinging into a jewelry shop
sloppy vows and dopey smiles exchanged, he was carrying you out the door. never made it back to the hotel Price booked - he couldn’t remember which way it was. instead, Johnny booked an overpriced honeymoon suite somewhere else - champagne bottle cracked open as he kissed your cheek
and now he’s looking down at you as you stir, tired eyes blinking open. it’s not like he regrets marrying you - he would love to marry you, he just wish he had gotten to the dating bit first. there was an awkward silence as you slowly took in the scene - Johnny, his shirt tossed somewhere in a forgotten corner, seated next to you in bed. an unfamiliar, albeit light, weight to your ring finger
when you finally meet his gaze, his grins - a slight, nervous glint in his eyes as you sit up too. “Ah— we— I mean, didnae think that—“, he coughs, stumbling over his words, trying to find something to say. married to one of his closest friends in Vegas of all places, he’s wracking his brain for a coherent sentence - eyes wide when you look down at your newly gilded finger
“Jumping the gun on getting married, huh?”, you smile, voice sleepy as you glance up at him. pausing, your eyebrows knit slightly as you glance around, “Where exactly are we, John?”
König:
König, for all his cockiness and bravado on duty as a Colonel, was less than thrilled to be flying to Vegas. was he proud of his teammates on their latest deployment? of course, did he want to be crammed in a small airplane seat with no leg room? absolutely not
being flown in and out of deployments is one thing, fitting himself in a seat meant for someone half his size was another. sniper hood replaced with a black medical mask and baseball cap, he was putting up with the flight for his friends - and you. was he going to spend money in Vegas? not if he could help it, “Nein, gambling is a waste of money. You can lose your own savings, Horangi.”, he scoffed, turning down the offer to bet when they landed
instead, König spent a majority of the night in a booth with you - drinking and watching your fellow teammates lose money. it wasn’t long before the multiple fruity cocktails got to König, a large hand on the small of your back as he ushered you outside the casino
the pounding in his head woke him up, throat dry and eyes bleary. the last thing he remembered was laughing with you on the streets of Vegas. as he moved to shift, to tug the covers up and hide against his pillow, he paused - registering the small hand on his chest, the warmth tucked against his side
swallowing, he glances down. he nearly chokes on his spit when he sees you sleeping against him, wedged between his body and the covers. headache suddenly forgotten, his mind swirls with different thoughts - had he slept with you? had you clung to him all night? are you going to be disgusted with him when you wake up? did you always have that ring on your finger—
wait. oh no
gaze glued to the ring on your finger - beautiful gem snug on the band - König’s mind suddenly goes blank. when he raises his own hand only to see a matching ring all those questions flood back as his chest tightens
surely you both hadn’t drank that much. he can barely remember leaving the casino though, he doesn’t remember whisking you away to a church - saying slurred vows and promises to each other. what’s worse? you weren’t together to begin with
sure, König has been pining for you, yearning to call you his and vice versa. to be married now? there’s butterflies in his stomach, but his chest is tight with anxiety. you were close colleagues, closer friends, and he carried you back to the hotel as his bride? you were going to kill him when you woke up, he was sure
when you mumbled something he froze, muscles tense as you hugged him closer. “Mm, König?”, sleepy voice coated with raspiness, it feels like the wind got knocked out of him, “König?”. his eyes darted down to meet yours, hands shaky as they clutch the sheets
“Ah— ja, Maus?”, voice strained, he awkwardly glances away. when he feels you cuddle up to his side, a small peck placed to his chest, he’s sure he’s died - or maybe he’s still asleep, blacked out from the booze. “You’re so warm.”, your voice, small and sweet, has him dizzy before he realizes what you’ve said
dead silent, he can’t help the flustered feeling in his heart, cheeks heating up. maybe everything can be normal? sure, you’re married, but— but what if you just ignored that? yeah, maybe König won’t lose you when you fully realize what’s happened… probably not, but the thought is nice
it’s a few minutes before you speak again, he’s sure the silence is comfortable for you - he’s overthinking what’s happened, what happens next, what happens on the flight back, what happens—
“Can’t wait to wake up every day like this.”, you sleepily murmur. it has König’s mind going silent - every day? you wanted to wake up with him every day—
Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:
he really shouldn’t gamble. he’s shit at it, he doesn’t want to risk owing more than he can pay, but damnit! it’s Las Vegas - how can he not gamble? the city was practically made for him. lights, dice, cards, cash? like a moth to the flame, can you blame Horangi when he drags you there for his birthday?
sure, he’s been to the States before, but Sin City? he’s never had a reason to go to Nevada, but a weekend get away to celebrate? now that’s an excuse to call and bluff. it was a little hard to get everyone onboard with the idea - as much as the team enjoyed a poker night, flying to Vegas to lose money was definitely… eyebrow raising. but, when it’s for a birthday, they can suck it up and play along
the night went by quick, a mixture of card games and drinking as the group paraded behind Horangi, letting him lead them from table to table. at some point they stopped at a bar, liquor flowing and shots passed out - Horangi could hardly move when he woke up. the hangover that hit him was devastating, an uncomfortable ache behind his temple
grumbling curses as light peaked out from behind the curtains, Horangi found himself unable to move - someone wrapped snugly around him, an arm and leg draped over his body. he didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night, then again, he didn’t remember a lot after the bar. so, when he looked down and saw you? his heart nearly stopped
“Mavsosa—“, voice strained as he freezes, his eyes flutter shut. you’re warm against him, pleasantly so, but he can’t help the guilt gnawing at his heart. did something happen? how did you two end up in his room?
but, light still streaming in from a crack in the curtains, when he opens his eyes he catches a glimmer on your ring finger. time slows down for him as he swallows - a pretty gold band with a cute little gem. when he eyes his own hand time starts flowing again, heart drumming in his chest. talk about a birthday present, he woke up with a wife
he would have been delighted to wake up as your boyfriend - maybe a tipsy confession after a shot of liquid courage, but waking up as your husband? it has his stomach twisting with nerves, but he can’t help the boyish smile that settles on his face. it seems like a silly joke, waking up wed to you
mind fuzzy as he recalls the chapel he ushered you into, hand in hand with goofy smiles, it didn’t seem too bad in the moment. while he might not be great at gambling, his charisma let him sweet talk the pastor into officiating - not his proudest moment in hindsight
and when you cling to him as you wake up, hand smoothing down his chest, he glances at you. you’ve been solid friends since he started serving, everyone knows that if you’re somewhere the other isn’t far behind. and he loves you, he really does, he just didn’t expect to see that ring on you, shiny band twinkling with the morning light
”Morning, dangsin.”, he quietly says, hoping you’ll be just as happy - maybe a little caught off guard - as him. it’s a gamble, his deep voice dripping with affection as he runs his hand through your hair, “Sleep well?”
charismatic man - while he tends to have terrible luck gambling, winning you over was easier than breathing, “Mhm, s’this our honeymoon, Kim?”, you mumble, eyeing the ring on his hand
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Goultard's accidental queer coding
(And, incidentally, why I headcanon Goultard as transfem/not cis)
Disclaimer : i say goultard's queer coding is accidental because i really dont believe that gou was intended to be read as queer when tot wrote him. Nonetheless, the subtext is still present and i believe any queer person would assume goultard to be somewhat queer while reading the manga. Interpretation can be different from intention. Also, and this applies to most of what i post, i share my personal analysis and interpretation and everyone is free to have their own.
(I got lazy and don't want to format this post properly, so this mess is what you get lol)
Pariah to hero.
Goultard was an outcast since he was born. A very common trope in queer coding.
After he proves himself worthy by showing he can be of use to the village. He's respected, adored, almost worshipped. But only as long as he fulfills the narrow role people want and expect from him. He's rejected and insulted as soon as he doesn't fit into this role.
Strict traditional masculine gender roles are forced on him. The protector. Stronger than any opponent, stronger than himself and his emotions...
I also think of his condition of being a son of iop, this sword of damocles hanging over his head, as a nature that is imposed onto him over and over again when he didnt choose it and doesnt want it. Being a warrior is supposedly in his blood its what hes good at and therefore should do, settling down and having a family is supposedly contrary to this nature. Even though its what makes him the happiest.
I wonder if traditional gender roles vary from one class to another. Is there any specificity between iop men and iop women. If iop men are by default considered more iop than iop women. Is feminity synonym with weakness for iops. Must a iop woman choose to never settle down and stay a real iop or abandon her warrior status/her iopness to raise offspring at home while the iop men can keep fighting. Maybe class affects the form sexism takes.
Ive joked about gou being in a polycule with three outcast witches being proof he isnt cishet and that the three of them were waiting for gou to figure his shit out... kinda real
After being possessed by the symbiote,
(Which can also be seen as him failing at his role of protector, failing to protect his family. He blames himself for it) the way he's rejected, dehumanized, called a monster, a creature, specifically not a man, and at the same time mocked, can be very reminiscent of queer phobia.
His relationship with the symbiote is reffered as them being a couple and compared to a romantic/sexual relationship.
It feels to me like, while gou was possessed, and shortly after, he could allow himself to step out of that preconceived idea of masculinity that comes with being a "hero", and indulge in the gray areas. Not a human or a demon, not a god or a mortal, not a man or a woman. While still having deeply internalized cisheteronormativity, grasping for some "normality" whenever he's faced with someone else's opinion of him. Needing to justify and prove he is not queer, prove he's man enough, prove he isnt weak, like he needs to convince himself as well as everyone else. Hating the subject but bringing it up unprompted. Always overcompensating.
There is something reminiscent of being in a queer relationship for the first time and it happens to be incredibly abusive. You might feel like the abuse is worth it if it means being allowed to be more authentically yourself, you tell yourself your abuser understands you and loves you for who you really are even if they hurt you, and the queerness of the relationship isolates you, making it impossible for you to get help to leave said relationship.
But much later, when his reputation got better (how much did he have to do with it, how much of his reputation is what he carefuly build it to be) and he had to take his father's power and become the new iop god, the pressure to act a specific way, to fit into this box, would have come back. The whole "iops dont cry" thing with gou denying and hiding his emotions in wakfu.
He's often reduced to that image of the unbeatable warrior, the ideal masculinity, the very definition of what a iop should be... what he thinks he should be.
He gets enraged at his fans for essentially worshipping a fake idealized and shallow version of him, making money off of his image and reputation, but rejecting him as a person, his humanity. They dont want to know who he truly is. He wants to be respected for his heroic actions, not because of this fake idealized vision people have of him.
(isnt it fucking hilarious that this is exactly what wakfu and a lot of the fandom does to him too sorry I'll stop being a hater).
Goultard's reputation and how he feels about it is a fascinating subject. Very confusing but thats because he is himself confused about what he wants it to be, but it sure is extremely important to him.
In the end, goultard recognizes the only people who knew and understood him are dead.
His emotions are seen as unmasculine and ridiculous because theyre too intense (seen as hysteric, too sensitive) Vil smisse says he's "worse than a chick". They say he has his mother's character whos literally named cabotine (hysteric).
He sees himself as a poet, someone sentimental, complains that people don't see it, don't recognize it, can't/don't understand this part of him. Kills an entire village because they didnt appreciate this part of him (a little excessive maybe lmao)
The way he presents, wears dresses as a child, skirts later in life, long hair with accessories... not necessarily effeminate but kinda androgynous hes gnc af or whatever. (I dont know what other people think but he always looks super androgynous to me, except in wakfu) Hes very goth looking in the manga which is also queercoded in itself.
His entire relationship with arty like come on.
People call him a homo and assume hes a homo thats pretty queer coded to me lol
Even the text makes fun of him for being the way he is. Hes often shown to be sort of a ridiculous person. Its not just the other characters who think that. They dont really expect you as a reader to sympathize with gou for being ridiculed. There are a few moments that feel gratuitously sadistic towards gou.
Arty also gets disrespected/has homophobia directed at him but always in relation to gou
(People assume arty's queer BECAUSE he's with gou), gou is disrespected/has homophobia directed at him way more and not always because of his relationship with arty (people assume gou's queer because he looks and acts in ways that make people think hes queer)
The whole thing with arty being a dragon is pretty queer coded too, discovering his true nature and being rejected for it, learning to accept himself etc...
But its such a classic trope it also fits other interpretations. Im thinking notably about growing up mixed, hes rejected for not being "human" enough but also not "dragon" enough, too much like a "human" or too much like a "dragon" having trouble figuring out his identity and accepting it, he inherits a long, complex and painful history from one side of his origins, fights to be seen as legitimate by the other dragons, very steven universe-esque.
And it's just very much coming-of-agey in general. His body changing and having new confusing emotions that he struggles to control. Facing new responsibilities. Kind of spiderman like. They do make a little joke about artys adoptive grandpa crail being like his version of uncle ben. So its also a metaphor for growing up in general.
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