#rhah vermucci headcanon

[senka-mesecine]

I feel like rhah is the type of guy to have the gnarliest double standards, he says over and over again that he’s disenchanted with women and that he’s fighting for his soul, and that women are jezebels and harlots out to get him, but at the same time when it comes to falling in love he’s as hopeless as a middle school boy with his first crush 😂

I’d kill to see that brought to life potentially with a nurse who treats him nicely for a SECOND and all of a sudden she has rhah bringing her little gifts and constantly showing up to pester her like a cat

The One Time Rhah Vermucci Fell in Love (And Everyone Had to Endure it).

Rhah Vermucci x Reader.

---

-"Bah! They're the gateway to hell!"-

He throws his head back, exasperated and holding court.

-"Been since the time Eve bit into the apple."-

Continuing, Rhah wags his finger, figuring these snot-nosed kids needed to hear this from someone who knew his elbow from his prick; needed to take it to heart, so if they ever rotated back to the world they wouldn't end up wrapped around the finger of the first malicious, insidious skirt that came walking by and batting her lashes at them, looking to collect those sweet vet benefits. They're all gathered around him and his makeshift throne made of filled sandbags, listening to the sermon. If anything, in another life, Rhah imagines himself being a preacher. Father Vermucci.

-"Because think about it! Open your collective third eye!"-

He taps the side of his head for special emphasis, eyes scanning everyone surrounding him, from Taylor, Big Harold, Crawford and an openly amused looking King. Well, he could be smug as he liked but it didn't make his words any less correct. -"They get together with assholes and produce even more assholes. Bring evil into the world! Spread it like a disease!"- He starts talking with his hands, smacking all of his five fingers against his thigh, the contact practically snapping. Taylor nearly jumps at the sound. Good, good. He needed to be jumpy. Means the lesson was settling into his bones, right where it belonged too. -"It's like a primordial black flame they protect and perpetuate. Half of the reason why we're in the mess we're in."- When Rhah really thought about it well enough, the war here was to be blamed on women in the first place; if they didn't go around giving birth to a bunch of demons from both sides, none of this would've happened. When he catches the boys sharing knowing, wordless glances like they were being quietly speculative, he decides to up the ante and give a concrete example; one close to home base. One they were all familiar with. -"I mean, someone had to go ahead and give birth to a Barnes. Ever think about that? No! Of course you don't! That's a scarlet woman's bit of handiwork right there."- He hisses, drawing in his breath sharply, lounging forward, until his spine was bent forward towards the pale faced mugs that seemed like they've just heard the scariest ghost story ever told; someone had to give birth to a Bunny. To a O'Neill. To a Wolfe. Someone gave birth to Victor Charlie as well. Someone brought that forth into the world. Someone did everyone that particular disservice.

And who was it?

Oh, yeah, right, a broad.

The usual suspect.

-"She got laid up with the horned one and Barnes is the end result! That's why he can't be killed! He's the devil's brood! Antichrist!"-

He keeps his voice deliberately low and hushed.

In the off chance the walls of the Underworld grew a pair of ears.

King rolls his eyes, chuckling, arms crossed over his chest.

Sure, laugh. Vermucci would see who gets the last laugh.

He'd see who gets the last laugh when it turns out that woman King's been writing the whole time, that Sarah or whatever her goddamn name was, turns out to have been porking someone else the entire time.

-"Rhah, bro, you're whack, man."-

His royal highness King shakes his head from the wooden poll he was leaning against.

The rest of the boys looked the way bugs look when you lift up a rock.

-"Maybe so."-

Rhah stands up, shaking his whole hand at King, index finger extended, deciding to stand his ground no matter how much he was mocked. Every prophet was initially considered insane in his own home village. John the Baptist even lost his head to a whore like Salome.

-"But, I'm also right."-

He stands face to face with King, throwing his whole chin out.

The man just laughs, his golden tooth reflecting the light of the surrounding candles.

Unexpectedly, Taylor. Taylor of all people speaks up.

-"Funny coming from a guy with an altar to Aphrodite next to where he sleeps."-

The kid half-grins causing King to burst out laughing with such a gusto his whole body bends forward with his hands grasping his knees for support, Rhah's mouth falling agape and his head whipping back to face the kid, travelling back and forth between the woman's statue surrounded by melted candles erected next to his bunk; he feels the accursed heat of the blood running into his cheeks overtaking his zeal.

-"Atta, Chris."-

King wheezes, congratulatory of this subversion and mutiny and fine, fine.

That's how it was then, huh?

Rhah's words of wisdom were totally lost on this crowd.

Let them all be deceived and lose their soul to the first pair of legs that walks by then.

None of his business. Ain't gonna fight anyone's battles for them.

He had his own soul to save.

But nobody can say he didn't warn them.

―

Two weeks later a stray bullet grazes his leg and Rhah finds he felt no pain.

In fact, laid up in the infirmary bed surrounded by a pack of groaning and moaning sinners complaining about every aching bone, limb and extremity, he was grinning like a man possessed the entire time. -"Twenty stitches, but it'll heal."- You explain softly and he was tempted to act like his condition was even worse than it actually was only for you to take a bigger interest in him. He was in deep. He was in deep. He was in deep. He nestles the back of his head comfortably into his pillow, adjusting himself there to get the best possible view of you and the stack of paperwork pressed against your chest. -"After a while, the scarring while fade and you won't even see where it was."- You reassure, like he wanted the scarring to disappear in the first place. Like he wouldn't have prefered to keep it forever as a memento. He unfurls his mouth even wide until he feels all of his teeth on display; you ascribed this as him being in shock and yeah, he was in shock. Sure, these broads all tended to be pretty because it was their natural predatorial tool meant to ensnare the gullible but you were more than just pretty. Was it just him or did you have a white aura around your head, hovering around you like a shimmering halo? -"Now, rest, please."- You instruct, briefly touching his shoulder with your fingers and he has to grab hold of them lightly, bringing them up to his lips. If this warranted him being up for Section 8. then so be it.

-"Madam."-

He's all breath and a raspy voice, fascinated, pressing a kiss to your knuckle.

His other free hand coiling into a fist, slamming his own chest.

Your wonderful, supple, graceful mouth falls agape.

The rose petals of Venus herself!

-"Right here! Right here is where they should've shot me."-

He whispers adamantly, thumb pointing at his own heart like someone hellbent on giving a vow, his throat still feeling raspy and guttural. Coming through hoarse, strained by his recovery --- all the dehydrating medication and pills he was pumped with when all the cure and healing ointment he needed was right in front of him; he supposed he understood that cherry Gardner right this very instant, rest his soul, going around showing his wallet and his girl in it to everyone. Momentarily, your shock fades as you stop trying to pull your fingers out of his grip and he spots the shadow of a half-smile as you turn your head, slightly flustered. Heavenly trumpets, rejoice! She smiles. He places your hand atop of his torso, covering it with his own, squeezing it steady there. They all could've been Jezebels, whores, harridans, gorgons, sorceresses, hussies and fallen women but every once in a while, like a diamond in a rough, a man could run into a true Archon --- you were sweet enough with him to be considered a saint, after all. He throws his chin out, facing you, staring at you head on, so you'd understand how much and how badly he meant this. Really meant this. -"The bullet should've ran deep, deeper, so it never fades."- Rhah assess firmly and you meet his eyes, the tension in your held hand relaxing along with your shoulders. You were allowing him to knead your sweet fingers, fully receptive.

He was in love.

―

-"Look at her! My angel, flung out of heaven!"-

The whole Underworld practically shakes with the sound of his voice and while admittedly, the first thing he went about doing was getting as high as a kite and showing off the photograph of yourself you've given him, it wasn't just the influence of quality Ganja that got him so euphoric; it's like the whole got painted over with new colors. Hell, Rhah didn't even mind that Taylor was merely feet away from him, talking about him. So!? Let him talk! Let them all talk. -"What's going on?"- He hears the kid ask, leaning over to King, all conspiratorial, ear to ear and cheek to cheek like the men who stabbed Julius Caesar. -"It's Rhah and some pretty lil' nurse. He's in deep. Been running his mouth about her for two hours and we all had to sit around and listen."- In equal measure, he hears precisely what King answers back, his mouth askew in a half-smile, scrutinizing him. Nah, he had to interject and correct that one, plating a hefty kiss to the surface of your picture. -"The most beautiful nurse alive and don't you forget it!"- If they had to, they'd listen to him rant about you for the remainder of their collective service tour out here or he wouldn't be called Rhah Vermucci. -"Don't know what chemicals they put in the water back at the hospital or if they did something to the grey matter in his brain but, fuck, brother returned a changed man."- This time around, King raises his voice, not maliciously, joviality and the casualness of a jokey aura surrounding him like a warm hue, but nonetheless, all Rhah could do is scoff and shake his head. They really didn't get it, did they? They won't laugh so much when it's their turn to be struck by Cupid's arrow. 'Specially Taylor. That one would get hit by the madness real hard and Rhah could tell just by looking at him.

-"Ain' no signs of him stopping yet either."-

Crawford obnoxiously cuts in from the other side of the bunker, snorting.

-"I thought he didn't like them very much? Women, I mean."-

Chris comments, clearly teasing.

Rhah was exasperated. Running his hand through his slick back.

When did college boy get so mouthy?

Was 'Fuck with Vermucci' a holiday all of a sudden?

-"The duality of man, Taylor, the duality of man."-

King clicks his tongue, entertained, giving him the stare.

They're all circling him like wild animals.

-"He's been hit by that thunderbolt."- He adds, all 'ooh's' and 'aah's'.

-"He's in love, brothers, and we'll have to endure it."-

King puts special emphasis on the word love them, dragging it out like stale chewing gum until it is undeniable that a taunt's a taunt, followed by a playful nudge in the shoulder; Rhah flinches back, rolling his eyes, sensing his own jaw locked up tight, tucking away your picture into the front pocket of his fatigues, right next to his heart, where you belonged. The candles surrounding his altar were all lit tonight, illuminating the Underworld, giving it a warm, golden hue. His soul feels lifted. Light. Like he was sent an angel to make it all right. Regardless, his words come up spiteful, goddamn nearly spitting. -"When your turn comes"- He addresses them all collectively, gruffly, pushing his jaw out, his ire fading momentarily even as he points an extended, threatening finger at each and every one of these mugs. -"you'll sing and shout it from the rooftops too! Yeah! That's right! Until then, you ain't know shit!"-

[senka-mesecine]

What would the boys' reaction be if they were going to kiss the reader and she turned her face away (as a joke)?

---

― Chris Taylor oscillates between being too boyish and seemingly green to play these games, sitting there with a flustered, eager smile on his face because he wants to do something about this but he probably doesn't yet have the fully developed bravado to actually go ahead and actually do it --- this being the case initially anyway all while just easily having it in him to downright surprise you and possibly himself as well when he practically orders you to cut this out, straighten your head out and kiss him properly. Like, he could very well be visibly angry doing so. All furrowed brows and lightning in his eyes, like someone not exactly to be messed with even though he initially comes off like the one you can mess with the most, by definition being a book not to be judged by its cover.

― O'Neill might immediately catch unto your playful intent, admittedly, after a moment of being perplexed and wide-eyed (and legitimately scared and nervous that your rejection is genuine) only to be as feisty and weaselly about it as you are, wiggling his eyebrows and feigning insult as he might say that he sees how it is. Uh-oh. Alright then. No, no, no. No face action. Next you want to be kissed it's him who'll play hard to get and he'll see how you'll like that, he might whine all while simultaneously acting tough, pretending to threaten you, legitimately being the wannabe brat within the equation. Of course, nothing comes of it and it's all empty talk, because the next time you're in want of a kiss he might gleefully capitulate within ten seconds flat.

― Bunny's pretty disgusting about it...to nobody's general surprise. He might actually be further invigorated and turned on if you shrink away from a kiss, however jokingly. He could see it as a challenge, in fact. Foreplay. An invitation to get even nastier than he already usually is. Might just declare say something in the vein that if you don't need a kiss he knows exactly what you do need --- the real deal, the big guns --- only to grab his own crotch and give you a lecherous grin. Want this instead, huh? 'Cos he's gonna give it to you. There's no playful subtlety and seductive nuance with this guy most days. Somehow you end up fucking quicker once you turn your head away than if you actually kissed because it'll only serve to make Bunny hornier.

― Turn your face away and in the heat of the moment Rhah will simply kiss your cheek, and your neck and your jaw and your chin and up and down your hands, muttering something to himself feverishly as he does, almost gritting his teeth with desire once you don't make your mouth readily available to him, so turned on by all of this man's visibly tense and agitated by you, the veins in around his neck goddamn nearly popping. You really are a Jezebel, you minx. Life destroyer and heart eater. He might go into a wave of invigorated, titillated ranting, quite literally in your face about it, his breath on your skin. If it was ever possible for a person to get off just off of the simple gesture of a bit of denial, Vermucci does, possibly even harder than he would with downright foreplay or sex.

― What's this then? King might immediately smile wide and bright with the understanding his baby's just being fun-loving and carefree, even though he'll return that very fun-loving and carefree nature and even encourage and feed it with some fun-lovingness and carefree tendencies of his own when he practically teases and prods you into the very kiss you've jokingly denied him because two can play at this game. He loves the fact you're like this. Loves the fact even more than he can effectively be coquettish with you to his heart's content and downright rizz you into a smooch; a game that might become something of a consistent tradition and in-joke between you two. You pretend to deny him and he'll flirt your 'resistance' out of you.

― Wolfe could be the only one from the bunch who possibly completely misunderstands your playfulness and takes a 'no' as a 'no'...accidentally. I get the impression he's very literal and tight laced like that at times and that even if part of him gets that you're just teasing he might not have enough immediate courage to take action actually be emboldened to just plant one on you now that your head is slightly tilted to the side. Meaning that if you turn your head away when he's trying to kiss you he might just tensely chuckle and be here genuinely thinking you don't want this right now...rendering the situation awkward within mere seconds. You might have to literally grab this idiot and pull him in for a kiss yourself afterwards in order to reassure that no, you were in fact, just being cheeky. Whoops.

― Eerily enough, even though he might just chuckle at you wholly endeared and understand you're just toying with him somehow Elias comes off as almost intimidating when he, with the softest, tenderest tone imaginable tells you that 'Next time I try to kiss you, turn your head my way, okay?' Not a shred of malice in these words. His voice isn't raised whatsoever. He's eyes are smiling. So is his mouth. He's all warmth and sweetness as he says this. But, he's very directly and very gently telling you what he wants in the most deliberate and lulling way imaginable where it's hard to tell if he's toying with you too, playing at intimidation as a practical joke or if he's giving you an actual command. Suffice to say, whatever that was, it takes your breath away. You're somehow more turned on and shaken than you've ever been.

― If Barnes doesn't give you a long stare, simply looking at you darkly after you've turned your head away from him and walking away without saying anything worst case scenario, he might go the other extreme and just grab your jaw rough, smush your face under his grip and pull you into a kiss on his own terms, without any warning. There's usually no joking around with him. He might do the joking, sure. But others doing it to him at his expense? He'll either coolly leave the situation or he'll take what he wants on the spot. Either or. No middle grounds. Suffice to say, whatever the case, you'll be taught how to behave through it. Next time he learns his head in for a kiss? You better stay still. Although, somewhere deep down? There's no denial Barnes relishes the process of taming you into it.

[senka-mesecine]

Hai! What do you think would be the boys’ favourite physical feature about their lover?

-

― For Taylor, regardless what he might say about wanting to be a non conformist and stepping out of the bubble of the path his affluent family paved for him, when he sees you well dressed, and for the lack of a better word, dolled up, it's just game over. Done. He's gone. Fog in his head. He's all puppy eyes and lovestruck. Zapped like lightning. And it's not so much about just one particular physical feature of yours as much what you can do with them all combined and just how drop dead gorgeous you can be when you go all out and present yours in the best light you have. I'm talking hairdos. Elegant attire. Jewelry. Finely groomed nails. A flattering lipstick. The whole shebang. Perhaps if we had to single out just one thing, it might be the hair. Sees you, an absolute smoke show with some well groomed hairdo in a dress that seems like it was tailored to the nines specifically for your measurements and he's a lost cause. He's the type to be passed by you as you walk on the street and take a long, hard stare after you because my god, that's a sight. You don't see that every day. His mouth is possibly a tad bit open too. Turns out (slightly cynical, disillusioned) college boy doesn't revile and resent the comforts a bit of glitz can bring that much after all. Which...isn't an easy thing to admit. That he adores how stylish you are when you really want to be. You're a showstopper without it, but damn, with it?

― Tits and ass...is what O'Neill might say if any of the boys ever asked him...and even if they don't ask him, often humblebragging macho nonsense entirely unprompted, but in reality? When he's all alone with you? When there's no audience? Nobody to impress? Suck up to? Man probably likes oddly wholesome things that entirely don't match up with the prick he usually is; He likes dimples. Likes the odd freckle here and there. Likes moles. Likes the way your nose squints cutely when you giggle. Or when you sneeze. Oddly precious bunny teeth. How tall or short you might be compared to him. The discoloration of an awkward tan or a bikini line. That little pouch on your stomach that's so soft. How adorable your toes are when they wiggle. Jesus Christ almighty and for a man known mostly as a brown nosing asshole the things he likes on you physically are actually, contrary to all popular belief weirdly pure because he's one man professionally, in the army, and a completely different man, with you, behind closed doors. Doesn't mean he doesn't like your tits and ass, oh, he adores them, but point is, he's uncharacteristically fond of physical features and attributes that might actually be easily brushed off and overlooked, especially, you know, supposedly by people like him. But, while he presents one thing he just entirely worships all of these features to astounding degrees. He's an absolute simpleton for you, plainly speaking.

― Remember how I said O'Neill might put up a deliberately macho front in front of other men when talking about which favorite physical attributes he'd single out on his significant other so he'd impress them? Now, brace yourselves. Because with Bunny, there's no putting up a front or joking about it seeing as how his favorite feature is your pussy nonironically. He openly says it's your pussy. Entirely means it too. Kid's as blunt as a doorknob and proud of it too. Like, why should he hide it? He sees no reason. Bunny's, in fact, convinced, everyone else is a liar and he's just saying the unspoken thing everyone's secretly thinking outloud. The notion makes him laugh. Don't get me wrong, everything about you is worth salivating over, but that part of you? Yeah, he loves how it looks, loves its color, its texture, the shape of your lips, its smell, whether you're hairy or not --- everything. Could talk about it for hours. Could draw it too. In fact, he might. To a degree it's hard to deduce whether it's a disgusting, blatantly fetishistic fixation or weirdly cute that he's just so shamelessly into your cunt. He can't help that it's so pretty, you know? Might just give it a nickname too, or several, one of those nicknames being...oh, I don't know...Bunny? What else? He names his favorite thing after himself; makes total sense to him. The world's so simple and easy when you're Bunny, baby.

― The eyes. It's all about the eyes for Elias. Not so much what their color is, because that doesn't matter to him as much as the eyes themselves do and the person they belong to. Their sheen. Their shape. The way you flutter your lashes around them unknowingly. They way you do or don't do your make up. The way you're focused or unfocused with your eyes. The odd specks and tiny veins in them. The way they reflect unspoken things. The way your eyes smile even when you don't. How they reflect the light and become even brighter in the process or stay entirely and unchangingly black because their shade is just that dark, like the deep sea. He loves all the ways they're a direct mirror to your soul. He relishes looking at them as much as he relishes you looking at him with them. If you're not one for direct eye contact and you're generally more on the shy side of things he might occasionally lean down his head to your eyelevel, trying to playfully catch a glimpse of your gaze beneath low lids and grin regardless if he fails or succusseds because it's a pleasure to do so and he's almost softly teasing you doing so. In fact, Elias might just wordlessly smile merely at the sight of reciprocated eye contact with you; you look at him, perhaps by accident, perhaps intentionally and he just beams up on the spot with happiness. Full mega watt twinkle on display. It's like the man has just seen the face of God right there and then. And baby, did he ever.

― Rhah loves your curves. How they wind. How wavy they are. How full. How thick. How they're shaped like a pear or an hourglass. All the ways in which your thighs touch. How rounded your ass is. Your hips. The ampleness of bosom. Your tummy. How luscious and plump your cheeks are. Just likes how you seem like you lived a soft, comfortable, well rested life, taking care of yourself, perhaps to the point of it all being a tad bit decadent. There's a undisturbed, glowing healthiness to it that's oddly erotic and you downright remind him of the statue of some reclining deity, causing you to look perfectly inviting to lounge and get high with. To put it bluntly, my boy Vermucci's Italian and he enjoys women who look like they eat well and without shame. He openly acknowledges this too. Might just go on a full blown, overly intense semi-philosophical tirade how it should be the new beauty standard and how the world's a dark, dark place due to the fact it ain't. He's disappointed and there ain't no hope left. The boys listen to him intently, fully immersed and maybe even a bit intimidated too because Rhah sounds like he's talking about something with unbelievable theatrical gravitas, and to him, it does come with unbelievable theatrical gravitas because you're beautiful and everyone should see you the way he sees you. They're just plain wrong if they don't. They ain't never been right.

― King loves your legs to the point of being borderline manically heated about it. Why? Because the legs is where all the fun happens. Or between them. Or around them. Doesn't matter. Be they long, be they short, be they thin, be they stocky, shaven, unshaven, the legs, man. He likes to watch you walk. Likes to watch you run. Strut. Dance. Sit cross legged. That odd second when you shift idly to get more comfortable where you're reclining and you open them for a brief moment, giving him a peek and a preview. Likes them thrown over his shoulders and wrapped around his face. Likes cuddling up with your legs on either side of him like pillows. How they jiggle when you move or, in opposition, how lean and firm they are. Likes them as you put your stockings on them. Likes them as you rolled your stockings down. Likes them in a skirt. Likes them in trousers. Likes them bare and naked. Baby, it's non negotiable. In fact, you walk by and he could very well just whistle and holler at you looking at them because life's good when he sees a sight like this. It's one of those reminders he's lucky to be alive and alive to be lucky with you in tow. Mean's the worst has passed and now he actually gets to enjoy the thing he likes best.

― With Wolfe it's all about the smile because when's the last time anyone's looked at him and smiled with, dare I say, appreciation? Admiration? Awe? Like someone looking for guidance from him? With something close to taking notice of him? With pride? With kindness? Sure didn't happen often in the army (if ever) so when it does happen with you he's almost a lost, semi stuttering mess because that's new. That's new and he could get used to it. Which he does; very soon. Laps it up like a man starved. Might be entirely blindsided by it at first (might not even be sure if it's wholly intended for him or not) but he gets weirdly greedy of it soon enough because it's the most beautiful thing he's ever since and it's all for him. Directed at him. Intended for him. In fact, you could just smile at him and he might just get hard at the sight of it. In equal measure, you smile at someone else, perhaps entirely offhandedly and he's weirdly discombobulated and sulky about it. On other occasions? He's cockily half smiling like a weasel when he's introducing you and you give him a loving, adoring smile as he says your name; he can't wipe the grin off of his face almost as if to say 'Yup'. Mark might just get a bit more mean to people as a result, with the wind at his back, feeling like he's atop of the world. He can become something of an emboldened asshole because he has the most beautiful woman in the world smiling at him, so, you see, it's warranted that he's a bit of a prick. Who wouldn't be?

― For Barnes it's your smooth skin --- to put it bluntly; you're unscarred, unmarred, you've no harrowing signs of trauma on it, no scratches, no disfiguration, no wounds and even if you have some, what he'd see as a minor civilian affliction like the odd zit, your skin's just soft and quite literally perfect to the touch. Beautiful to look at too. Everything he feels he ain't anymore. You have everything he doesn't. It's exactly why he might have the habit of looking at you profusely without saying anything; because he's quietly admiring and assessing what he's seeing, a spot shared only by your eyes as his favorite feature even though that one comes with a tactical edge to him because he tends to look at them and hold your gaze as a way to read you. But the skin around it? The skin of your face specifically, more than anything? Your body? Your arms? Legs? Nothing matches that. He has the habit of idly trailing his finger along it and just commenting nothing focused on the texture of it, the feeling, the warmth, the slight features it might have, the occasional or not so occasional freckle, mole or total lack of it. Everything and anything. Even actual scars, that might seem like nothing in comparison to his but that's exactly why they're so fascinating. Might not be vocal about it but it's a vision to him. He can do whatever he likes to your skin; make a scar of his own or just caress the unblemished smoothness. It belongs to him, after all.

[senka-mesecine]

What do the boys think about Halloween? 👀

---

― I don't know, for Chris personally, something like Halloween probably harkens back to a more carefree and simple time; back while he was still in college, his family's home, the carelessness of suburbia and him being just a kid who still cared about the wonder of mundane things --- a time that seems almost entirely bygone now; which means that any and all feelings connected to said season (and really most holidays) will be complicated and introspective because it serves as a metric of comparison just how far he's come since...and how much he's irrevocably changed. There's something almost awkward about the notion. Something nostalgic. This slightly haunting idea he can't go back exactly to the way things were. The stark reminder he's aged out of Halloween, perhaps in a good way, perhaps in a bad one. Especially post-war, Taylor has grown. But, then again, that's not to say he wouldn't commemorate it all; he just probably does it differently to anyone else. Busting out a drink, a blunt and listening to music with you is good enough.

― Not that O'Neill would ever admit to this in a million years but all these asshole kids dressed up as ghouls, zombies and the actual living dead make him nervous and fidgety...well, more than he actually is by default, so really, he might spend all of Halloween ranting to you how these little cocksuckers are running around the block expecting something for nothing (free candy), feeling all entitled, and how, nuh-uh, he's not having it. No, no. He's really not. Truth is, all of his antagonism and passive aggression is a means to cover up that this shit makes him anxious to no end but he'd rather come off like a disgruntled, killjoy, whiny asshole by choice, as a tactical measure, even to you, then ever fess up to the reality that it overall gives him a bad feeling and probably takes him back to some really awful places in time, meaning that the man might just want to spend Halloween curled up in bed with you. Genuinely. His excuse is that he's too pissed off to participate or care. But you know better, so you might let it slide when he acts all tough about it the next day.

― Honestly, Bunny thinks Halloween's great and he loves it. Unabashedly so. He's that guy who's door you absolutely shouldn't knock on while trick or treating because while seems like some smiling, scrawny pretty boy at first glance (harmless, right?) he might just fill someone's basket with candy and a handful of live maggots (could just grab one and eat it in front of the horrified visitors too) or put a defunct grenade into a satchel of sweets and probably have the time of his life being impressed with himself once the kids, rightfully, end up scared it'll blow up, so, really, this holiday's a perfect excuse for him to bully and cruelly prank people, not that he needs any excuses. Might just do it to you too. In fact, it's guaranteed. He does it out of some sickening, juvenile form of love towards you. the way he sees it. He somehow seems like the type of guy who has a live human skull laying around somewhere that he acquired...god knows where...that's on the front lawn and everyone assumes it's decor. But, it ain't. Knowing Bunny then, it's really lucky that Halloween lasts only one day.

― Rhah gives me the impression that like, to him, Halloween's the perfect time to bust out the eerie stories --- and again, much like Bunny, not that he particularly needs too many excuses for this one, but really, this holiday in particular serves his mood just right as he regales anecdotes that might be real, slightly overblown in proportion or completely fabricated. Nonetheless, he tells them with such immersion and oratory zest, he can genuinely have a tingling shiver run down your spine just by talking. In equal measure, one gets the impression he's fully in his element even though he'd never fess up he likes any of well, this. In fact, he might also rant about Halloween to you. Commercial holidays this and commercial holidays that. Theft! A scam! Distracting the common man with nonsense. Vermucci does get all political and social for a brief blip. But, he's simultaneously there, next to a fireplace with you in the dark trying to titillate as well as frighten you as he tells you some of the most harrowing things you've ever heard in the hopes you'll scoot even closer to him. He actually relishes this, to be honest.

― King might think Halloween's inherently some rich people thing and by extension, white people thing --- you know, something aimed at folks who have disposable moolah to throw around on plastic randomness they won't ever need again except for one day a year --- a notion he genuinely finds funny. An opinion someone like, say, Junior might very vocally share as well, much to Bunny's annoyed chagrin. But in spite of that and his social stand on the matter, King's very much pro anything that allows him to unwind, relax, have a good time and party --- the context involved doesn't really even particularly matter, meaning that he'd happily get up to weird activities like blowing weed smoke into a pumpkin, infusing his grass with flavored spice to 'keepin' with the spirit of things', sing, dance and take up the task of handcrafting some decoration himself instead of buying, which, admittedly, comes off like the move of someone who genuinely loves the holiday for its own sake. Somehow, the whole thing might develop into a full on party with you. The pipeline between 'I don't care about that noise, man.' to him being fully into this is a very short pipeline indeed.

― Don't laugh, but Wolfe gives me the impression of someone who nonironically, in trying to, as he might so aptly put it 'keep up the spirits and the morale of the men' genuinely ordered some pumpkins from up the chain of command as needed provisions, singlehandedly carved some and set them up at least somewhere around base to remind the boys of home, only for the gesture to be ignored or considered juvenile and ridiculous by a general consensus. Which...perhaps it was. Or maybe it wasn't. Depends who you ask. The opinions range anywhere from 'Whattheshit!?' to 'A sappy effort'. Regardless, Wolfe might be good intentioned but his fish-out-of-water efforts either 'can't read the overall mood of the room properly' or he tries too hard to impress and be 'one of the gang' only to fall wholly and entirely short. In general though, he enjoys Halloween. And he might just happily celebrate with you with all the traditional markers of it involved the minute he doesn't need to put up a macho front anymore during a more civilian life. He probably ends up being unexpectedly wholesome about it.

― Elias is a non-conformist at heart; celebrate a thing or not. Like it or hate it. Be indifferent or impassioned. It doesn't matter to him --- ultimately, so long as whatever conviction people have is followed by a feelgood feeling and attitude overall --- in translation; Live and let others live. So long as they're not hurting anyone in the process, he thinks people should be entitled to their beliefs, meaning that he himself could very well be disillusioned with most of the pastimes a common civilian could have, but he's not opposed to other people being, well, plainly put, happy even though it's not exactly an enthusiasm he personally shares --- nonetheless, Elias is a good sport about it. Genuinely. The world would've been a better place, he thinks, if more people had an attitude like that. And not unlike Chris? His prefered choice of celebrating with you is just unwinding. Rotating back to the world he'd be one of those guys children are legitimately enthusiastic to trick and treat from because he's the kindest and coolest person who's door you could possibly stumble upon.

― Barnes is an adult and by extension of being an adult and a man, he deems he shouldn't give a rat's ass about it --- an opinion he undoubtedly would've firmly held even when he was an actual child and the main target demographic for Halloween, I imagine. There's just something really grim and no-nonsense about him where his stoicism usually takes precedence over everything, even, say, commonplace holidays. He doesn't mind you celebrating, putting you into a more civilian box by default. He just doesn't care about doing it himself because he finds he's got better things to do. He just doesn't understand people having a separate day in the year where they wanna be frightened in the most staged, artificial sense possible when there's so much actual fear in the world they could experience; he's downright the type of man who'd say something in the vein of 'Hope ya'll get drafted so ya'll can experience some real shit'. He's really the dark inverse of Elias on that front, except, unlike Elias, he doesn't afford people the empathy of thinking they deserve happy stuff just for its own sake.

[senka-mesecine]

Ask and I shall deliver :) Itching for new platoon content even if the movie is old, I’m in the trenches

Some ideas to consider:

How do you think each of the men would individually propose/entertain the idea of marriage to their lover?

How would the characters make up ideally from an argument? Would they be the first to crack, would they make peace offerings, etc

What do you think the love languages of each of the men are?

-Sincerely B, love your writing btw!

---

I think people like Chris or Rhah might have a cynical outlook on matrimony as an idea because a.) someone like Chris pretty much lives to go against the established mold and pave his own path by his own admission, and by extension, not follow the expected way of things and b.) Rhah might spew the notion that marriage is a civilian institution (of hell) meant to break men's souls, drain their hearts and void their pockets...or something quite as melodramatic and lofty as that, but irony is, both of them are passionately the first ones to do actually get married --- Chris because he's possibly can't erase the idealistic, boyish suburbanite from his own soul and Rhah? Well, Rhah. He might be telling everyone about how marriage is an equivalent to a virtual ball and chain and then he could very well be praising his spouse in the next breath like they're an actual deity in his eyes. Make it make sense. But, that's Vermucci for you.

Same goes for him and arguments.

In one breath he could be coaching the other boys how they shouldn't give in to the barbed tongued Jezebels of the world and the let them run things but in another breath he very well could concede to everything his spouse wants like he's convinced they put them stars up in the sky singlehandedly.

Someone like, say, King, might very well call him and Taylor out on it with a quip like 'Hey, aren't ya'll both hitched back in the world or sumn'? What's all this crazy talk for?'

Speaking of King, he strikes me as a 'free love' type of guy, befitting the era, rather than a white-picket-fence-do-it-all-by-the-book sort of individual. He might think a paper isn't really necessary for these sort of things, in fact, it might very well be a hindrance that starts most of the above mentioned arguments and he just wants things to unfold naturally, no law involved. Just him and his baby, going wherever the flow goes. It really is that simple for him. Freedom, light and love.

Meanwhile, someone like, say, O'Neill, might be pretty vocal about the fact he's planning to get married, contemplating to, pondering it, that the date is set, that everything's organized, this, that and everything nobody asked --- fact is, he rants and raves more about it than his actual partner does. Everyone knows every nuance of everything going on on that front whether they like to or not. Everyone also knows months in advance Red's planning to scram on R&R too and have an elaborate honeymoon. He is not subtle about entertaining the idea of matrimony, and actually, one could get the impression he's showing off in the most weaselly way imaginable. Goes so far he could very well be bragging about the arguments he has with the missus too, like it's something brag-worthy, almost like he's happy to be having them. Possibly acting like he's winning all of said debates and 'setting down the law too'...which everyone knows he isn't.

Jesus Christ. Bunny and the concept of marriage.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

I mean, he sees the definitive perks of it. Someone cooks for him, hands him a bottle of cold beer and he gets pussy on demand so what's not to like? Or at least that's what he's convinced it's all about, having developed a completely skewed image of what's what. I can firmly envision him and Junior having an elaborate bet on who could get settled down first figuratively speaking if they ever rotated back into the world and they'd egg each other on about it constantly. They both wanna do it, possibly for all the wrong reasons, even though Junior's more likely to play uppity, passive aggressive and hard to get surrounding the issue, acting contrarian to Bunny just for the sake of it, perhaps to outright annoy the guy. He might've developed a whole theory on how 'them broads are holding the man down and he ain't about to allow himself to be duped.'

Bunny smarmily might respond that he wouldn't mind being held down by broads.

Pervert.

He's also just as likely to say he wants to be a bigamist with a harem.

Might declare something as unhinged and positively juvenile in the vein of the government rewarding him with ten spouses for his (clears throat) exemplary service during the war. Of course, it's a privilege exclusively meant for him and him alone. People like Junior don't take part in it. Why? Because Bunny said so.

So, yeah, how about Wolfe?

Wolfe strikes me like he doesn't think about marriage actively but simply because it's a given it'll happen when it's time for it to happen, a great many things in his life having been paved in advance for him, I believe, perhaps unfairly so, with everything proceeding in straight, linear order. College. Some sort of military academy. Gaining rank. Active service. Overseeing the Bravo Company. And when that's all done? Matrimony. One can almost easily imagine it's an arranged thing as in, a literally arranged thing. Wolfe goes off and marries a General's daughter or something in that vein and just like none's the wiser how this dude of all people became Lieutenant, nobody understands how he scored that high.

Elias?

Elias has had bad experiences before.

If he had any high opinions of marriage, he's lost them somewhere along the way --- the folly of youth --- but just as true stands the fact that he's still an idealist in his own right, just maybe not exactly outright willing to jump into the fray and include the law and strict regulations into something he considers sacred, more likely being the notion that he'd mark his commitment through something like promise rings, some trinkets that can match, something of great importance, some vow, something he believes is just as valid as going to church do it. Isn't God everywhere? In everything? Then, by extension, a marriage can be commemorated in any way humanly conceivable according to him. He'd be content standing under the starry sky with you and consider that perhaps even more firm of a devotion that a mere piece of paper, because he's had the piece of paper before and he can tell from personal experience --- it ain't worth shit. But, since love languages are in the equation here? Elias is fairly selfless to the point he'd be willing to make it official in the genuine sense if it meant so much to his partner, doing it for them and because of them, because to him? Just being with them was always enough. Still, he loves them so much so as to consider them and their needs outside of his own comfort zone. He considers and entertains the notion of marriage not for himself but to make his partner happy and there's no two ways around it. Not because he feels pressured, forced or eclipsed into it; quite the contrary. In fact, it's his selflessness manifesting in everything he does.

Man, people wouldn't even know if Barnes was married.

Or when. Or to whom. For how long. They don't know his opinions on it and nobody has any valid information, mainly because nobody who knows him thinks of him and marital life in the same sentence without feeling there's something...oddly unnatural about that whole image, the same way they might not be able to validly visualize what he'd be like during arguments in a domestic sense; not without murdering someone. There's a blank slate where any intel on the matter should be because Barnes himself might think it's nobody's business anyway. He could be divorced, he could be widowed, he could be a bachelor or he could be a newly-wed groom and nobody would be the wiser about what's going on in this man's private life, again, because few people can even imagine him having a private life outside of touring Vietnam year after year after year, being what's essentially a Lifer. They can only speculate. He'd just do it, get hitched, get back to the field and act as if nothing happened, possibly all within a singular day or two if at all logistically possible, being the face of professionalism and stiff lipped discipline, not allowing the personal to get involved with his war. He could've been deployed back fresh from the marriage office registry and shouting orders the very next day and that's Barnes for you, being the exact opposite of someone like O'Neill in his approach who just can't shut up about it. Hilariously, while the men are only just speculating about marriage as a concept, for all his quietude, Barnes comes off like he'd silently be married the longest and most consistently.

"Probably because she's been buried under some shed all along."

One of the boys might come to a very antsy conclusion nobody dares utter any louder than through a mere whisper.

[senka-mesecine]

Not to be horny on main (again) but thoughts on the boys and what they think of eating out their partner?

---

― Chris probably learned about it in the army and hilariously enough through one of the boys in the Underworld teasing him about not knowing and never having done it by giving an apt demonstration on some sort of fruit, being simultaneously the most inherently homoerotic way someone can get introduced to, for lack of a better descriptor, eating pussy, and also the most painfully straight one. Slightly sheltered, suburban boy that he is, somehow, it always seemed so blatantly clear someone can do that to a woman all while being wholly a novelty to him because it only ever clicked inside of his head as a possibility once someone else pointed it out. It's not that Taylor loves it or hates it, but it shook and rocked his world, just about. He is something of a changed man after this.

― O'Neill undoubtedly oscillates between bragging about his love making prowess to great excess even though nobody asked and flaunting his supposed macho first of authority by proclaiming no self respecting guy would ever do that. Maybe those potheads --- but not O'Neill, baby! Nah-uh! Like, he can and does flaunt these highly conflicting stances interchangeably depending of who he's talking to and what image he wants to present right this very instant, the actual truth being Red probably loves eating out more than he loves blowjobs any given day of the week --- genuinely a controversial stance to have in a platoon of burly men as such, he occasionally needs to paint himself as a hater of oral sex to the degree it's almost slightly suspicious. Like he's overcompensating. And he is.

― Bunny talks about eating pussy constantly, I think. Seems like it would be this guy's whole staple of comedy, small talk, anecdotes and just about something he peppers into every more casual conversation even though ---- and here's the catch ---- he's never actually done it. Not out of a lack of trying, that's for sure, but it's almost a collectively accepted notion that whoever lets Bunny down there might as well brace themselves for being bitten --- somehow feels like a mocking, taunting jab Junior would come up with. The genuine crux of the matter is that Bunny is probably, for all his foul mouth and perversions, too young to having had accumulated that much experience so most of the lascivious things he fantasizes go on mainly in his mind. He's bracing himself for the day it happens, though, like he's bracing for a holiday.

― So, okay, Rhah thinks eating pussy is just good manners. Something any self respecting lover should do if they wanna call themselves a lover in the first place; he's probably the guy who sat Chris down in the first place and gave him a very descriptive guide on how to do it, a comprehensive detail on female anatomy, the pleasure zones, what women like and what they don't and he did this with so much gusto and oratory skill that listening to the speech would probably either make anyone listening blush or inherently turned on. Rhah's done it countless times and it's undoubtedly one of the things he most keenly misses from back in the world. He's probably the same guy who'd give any learning acolyte the warning not to let what those Jezebels have between their legs get to their heads because then they'll be truly lost.

― If Rhah is the one giving out lessons of the practical, verbal kind like he's some sort of wannabe Shakespeare guiding the young and the innocent towards undiscovered knowledge, King might downright be the dude holding the, say, peach, after a couple of blunts as he gives an actual demonstration intended for poor Chris because yeah, you guessed it, King is another man who adores eating pussy and he can't understand people who either haven't or don't like to. Something basically wrong with that. There's really individuals out here denying themselves happiness? Unbelievable. He straight up thinks the world would've been a better place if everyone did the same way he's convinced that this sheltered nature is a trait the rich have because they're too stuck up to get they faces down there.

― Wolfe almost comes off like precisely the type of man King was talking about when he said the well off are too stuck up to get down to action. Because yes, that's Lt. Mark Wolfe to a certain degree, even though I'd expand --- it's not that he's too stuck up for oral sex and being the giving party but he is actually too tight laced. The boys in the barracks might be talking about something slightly suggestive and even him attempting to relate to them by telling an awkward sex joke could very easily fall flat on its face with all the secondhand embarrassment in the world because nobody thinks of Wolfe as a lover however much the man might try. I think he enjoys the concept of offering pleasure and being in control of it but is actually inherently so square toed he often talks himself out of the prospect.

― Elias thinks of eating pussy in the most overromanticized, flowery terms imaginable and he has done so all of his life; he'll talk about it like it's the fruit straight out of Eden's garden before the fall. Man not only has a high, exalted opinion of the act itself and a very open one at that, he is also convinced showing love in that regard is necessary. It's good for the partner in question and it's good for him making her feel good and feeling good is good enough. That's like the cornerstone of his whole philosophy. A belief him, Rhah and King downright share. Throw boys like Crawford in there for good measure. In fact, if I had to single out a sex-act Elias undoubtedly prefers most in life it's certainly something in the vein of eating his partner out because nothing comes as close as that in his eyes.

― You'll never hear a peep about the subject from Barnes --- if specifically asked in a casual setting with smokes, cards and drinks involved, at best, one will get a long, hard stare out of him that immediately closes the topic without a single word uttered; what he does, what he likes to do, how he likes to do it --- it's an issue so personal people don't even dare to inquire on it too much, because in equal measure, even the men inside of his own camp that support him get a little iffy and fidgety just imagining him in any sexual situation. It's alien and weird. Like visualizing a praying mantis eating their mate alive. Does he like it, though? Yeah. Is he good at it? Yeah. Does he make a show out of it? No. He might be of the opinion that bragging about fucking is a trait people who ain't good at not much else (including said fucking) lean on to cover their asses.

[senka-mesecine]

Something about rhah vermucci is so attractive to me, like yes king woo me with your weird Old Testament references about how I’m ruining your life!! Ruin my life!!

I think this man has an incredible theatrical flare alongside a tremendous way with words when he truly wants to and that's just the truth.

[senka-mesecine]

I remember a while back you wrote some headcanons for Chris loving Barnes wife and then one earlier where he loved an unnamed relative (both were great btw), but I think especially in those scenarios Chris’ darker kinks would come out, and maybe even a bit of Rhahs influence (comparing them to Lilith, ladies of the night etc)

Also imo rhah would have a degradation/praise kink, probably in the same sentence, and a dacryphilia kink

---

I mean, it's weirdly logical, because see, if Chris views the type of man Barnes was as everything wrong with the world, as the devil, as a savage, as a lunatic, as someone not right in the head, as someone who needs to be killed for the greater good, as someone too far gone to be saved, as someone who he's gonna carry with himself for the rest of his life, you name it...what would he see someone like, say, Barnes's figurative significant other as? You know, someone who was willingly with a man like that in the first place? Stands to reason that if Barnes was the devil, his wife's quite literally the devil's whore, not to sound like Rhah over here, but yeah. No matter if she's possibly the most well adjusted, nicest person ever; something has to have been wrong with her to be with Barnes, no? That's the logic at hand here. If Chris rotated back to the world and ever found the woman whose very husband he's personally killed, well, I don't know why or how, but I almost see him developing an obsessive fixation on her.

She's both the widow of the worst man he's ever met and yet Chris is exact the reason why she's a widow in the first place. He did this to her. There might be an honorable need for him to set the record straight and check up on her because in effect, Taylor isn't a bad person and he has a conscience, maybe even the tendency to be a bit of an overidealistic white knight and yet, simultaneously, he might just deep down think that Barnes's wife could very well be as bad as Barnes and that someone should keep an eye out for her and that someone should be him.

He is speculative of her, yet protective.

Possessive, yet paranoid.

Judgmental, yet unexpectedly empathetic.

He feels responsible, yet feels like he doesn't owe her shit.

He condescendingly might be convinced she needed to be saved by someone before she could've ever tied to herself to a guy like that and that that someone doing the saving could've been him in some figurative scenario and at the same time also feel that she deserved what she got by being with Barnes.

He feels ownership over her, yet simultaneously doesn't want anything to do with her.

He is wreaked with guilt, yet thinks he made the right choice killing her husband.

Would do it all over again.

Oh, the conflict.

He possibly feels extremely bad over her grief because he's the cause of it all while being convinced Barnes brought it upon himself and the sweeter and more outwardly kind and commonplace the widow proves to be --- you know, she's just a person and not the horned one himself --- the more Chris's conflict deepens and he goes out of his way to find reasons on why every tear she's shedding over that animal is well deserved. When he finds no reason? Yeah, the darkness you mentioned really starts rearing it's ugly head mingled with frustration of the most pathological kind.

And ironically? Chris Taylor ends up seeming more like Barnes than ever before.

Almost like a prophecy ends up self-fulfilling.

He starts resembling, behavior-wise, the very man he murdered.

Because, hey, the only person who can kill Barnes is Barnes, right?

Rhah himself predicted this.

You know how reincarnation is a reoccurring motif in this story? Chris Taylor could be there, pushing the teary-eyed widow against the wall, slamming his fist against it, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him, demanding that she stop sniveling and being so damn aggrieved over a worthless piece of crap that her deceased husband was and it's almost like Barnes found a way to come back from beyond the grave and return to what's his in another form; because it's not like death itself would ever stop him.

[senka-mesecine]

What do you think all the boys in Platoon did before the war professionally speaking, job-wise? What were they?

---

― Chris Taylor was a student and he pretty much says so himself. After that, he was a college dropout by choice --- another bit of information he's open with; but once upon a time there was probably the firm assumption that he'd graduate and take up, say, an established family business of sorts or something hereditary everyone in his family was involved with one way or another with where a prestigious trade is concerned --- something that could've been generationally attached to his surname and passed down from father to son, his path in life well-paved out for him in advance with not too much wiggle room for anything else and certainly not for self discovery. For lack of a better descriptor, his parents probably excepted him to become something as fancy and typically upper to middle class as a lawyer or a doctor --- one of those 'safe' jobs where you'll be settled for life --- and he undeniably went and earned their disappointment and even anger when he went on to leave everything behind, voluntarily enlist and become anything but.

― O'Neill seems like someone who genuinely had the most commonplace life of all pre-Nam; managed to graduate high school on time. Might've done a sport or two. Red on the small time local wrestling team with his O'Neill death grip. Wasn't poor but he wasn't some fat cat either --- being perfectly middle ground common in every regard. Got briefly employed at some, say, mom-and-pop type business and he developed all the manners of a slightly nervy civilian with slightly nervy civilian problems. Then came the war and his slightly nervy civilian problems turned into properly agitated and anxious O'Neill problems. Man's undoubtedly the poster child of being perfectly average in every regard; not too hardened by his civilian life to be able to be some kind of fierce leader but certainly neurotic enough to tactically brownnose whoever is top wolf in order to have a tiny vestige of power through them and survive. Wouldn't surprise me if he was an irritated grocery clerk before the war.

― Bunny was unemployed for the simple reason that he was far too young to even properly get educated and actually find a career of any genuine and lasting variety by the time he was drafted and shipped off overseas; meaning that he never had enough time to actually ponder a future, a trade, a profession, how to make a living or anything of the sort --- almost like being in the army and in Vietnam literally freed him of the burden of thinking of that whole nonsense in general, which is, among other less savory reasons, precisely why he likes being there in the first place. It's a big rock off of his back, really. All he has to worry about there is not dying (and even if he does, he won't know it's happening) and he says so himself. He does what he wants which is exactly the way he enjoys it best, like a kid let out of a cage without proper parental supervision. If a profession would need to be assigned to him he'd probably just label himself a soldier because he isn't like to relate to anything else.

― Much like Bunny, Junior was probably too young to actually have a job; they're extremely similar in that regard, except the sole difference is that I can envision is Junior thinking that he was an amateur political activist fighting against 'the man' back home --- which isn't an unusual phase for a teenager turned young adult to have, this proclivity to being overly imaginative and for the lack of a better word, overblow their own importance. He might've been at a rally once or twice, got arrested for the simple reason he got caught being at the wrong place at the wrong time and for a commonplace act of boyish stupidity, he probably ended up enlisting to avoid getting the slammer, which is both hilarious and slightly tragic. Not that he admits to it when asked. He thinks of himself as a bit of a dissident back home; this is something he swears by. The white man's holding him down and that's why he's here. But, when he gets back? He'll be a politician and then they'll all see who Junior is.

― Rhah Vermucci was a small time street dealer since forever. Heroin. Crack. Opioids. Weed. Pills. You name it. Whatever was going big in the early 60's in lieu of the wider spread addiction and narcotics epidemic, he was peddling. Not so much for the profit of it but because he genuinely believed drugs are the answer to everything or at least most of anything --- that they open the mind and the senses to new, unexplored horizons and that he's basically preaching a message of general enlightenment by selling to people, just as likely to give out samples for free, not unlike a preacher converting individuals to a whole new religion. He might've at one point very seriously considered something unhinged like travelling the overland Hippie trail through Afghanistan, Pakistan India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and all the way to Thailand for the simple reason of wanting to find out what other elixirs he can sample Far East but it never quite panned out for him like that because he either ended up jailed or he got drafted. Or both.

― King was probably too impoverished for even the basics of education, too impoverished to hold down a job, too impoverished to self improve, too impoverished to do much of anything or have any chances of betterment and upward mobility in any sense that mattered in the long term and so really, him being a prime candidate for the draft was really a given and he's probably aware of it too. With no opportunities behind him in the past and no opportunities in front of him in the future, it's really a shocker how he maintained such a positive, friendly and genuinely kindly outlook on the world as a whole, being someone Not in Education, Employment, or Training. By extension of not getting any major privileges or having been dealt good cards his plans post-war would more or less involve simply...living, regardless what he does. Maybe working in some factor a couple of months and then hitchhiking to a Bob Marley concert only to do some moonlight in case he's strapped for cash. Wherever the road takes him so long as he's home and free --- everything's gravy compared to what he left behind.

― Wolfe was an Ivy League graduate of sorts or undoubtedly someone from a well respected military academy like West Point and a family background just as affluent; he's the type of guy you'd nonironically see at a golf course wearing a white polo shirt with a cashmere pullover tied around his shoulders in the middle of a work week or decked out in a white uniform, socializing at an officer's joint, shooting the breeze with a pinkie ring on his finger, like someone who's part of an exclusive club. And he was. His profession is as such simply that he's on the downlow wealthy and well educated enough to not need to have a clear cut job, but rather being something of an army office jockey; someone perhaps unfairly and continuously earning his stripes and rank unearned promotions through the mere fact that he might've known the right people and that he kept getting recommended for a position he was underqualified and under experienced for in the practical sense. Suffice to say, if we had to put an actual label on it, Mark Wolfe is what we'd call a Nepo Baby today.

― Elias struck oil in Oklahoma somewhere and he was, as unlikely as that sounds now with how carefree, enlightened and liberated from the material he seems, a millionaire and a businessman in his own right for a while. So much so that he moved to LA, upgraded on his social class practically overnight, splurged on everything ranging from a mansion, expensive cars, luxurious things, an overly spending prone celebrity woman who bankrupted him and got him hooked to some of the worst habit imaginable, costly drugs and other experimental opioids and he went through said newfound wealth as quickly as he acquired it, somehow burning himself out in no time at all, landing himself embroidered in a police raid, arrested for possession of vast quantities of narcotics, ending up in jail and cutting a deal to be drafted instead of rotting behind bars for years. Somehow, Grodin's life story is so incredible it almost sounds made up. Thing is, I don't figure there's much of anything he'd go back home to in the first place because he lost everything, which is why he kept re-enlisting for three years in a row even though he doesn't believe in the cause he's enlisting for anymore.

― Barnes seems like he would've been something in the vein of being a road construction worker, a sharecropper, someone putting down railway tracks, a miner, day laborer, a welder, a tool pusher, an oil driller or anything and everything that demanded hard, grueling physical labor on a daily basis or him being a roughneck through and through from a young age, which means that by the time he ended up in the war tour after tour he was already as tough as nails by default. Being a soldier almost came naturally as a result seeing as how he was already used to difficult conditions and adversity way before he was ever given an uniform, meaning that his temperament could've been that of a hard-ass from the get go as well. That's just about how he more or less always was like to some extent, give or take. He, outside of someone like, say, King, probably comes from the most impoverished background of all the men in his platoon and by extension, he's the keenest survival skills of them all as well. Suffice to say, life wasn't easy and tremendously nice for Barnes and as a result, he isn't an easy or a nice man either. Not that he's looking for any sympathy or handouts.

[senka-mesecine]

Would you maybe want to write a red flags/green flags list for the platoon cast? Thank you!

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― Chris Taylor? The green flag is that he's an idealist. He believes in causes for their own sake. Believes in justice. The precedence of right over wrong. Doing the good and correct thing just because. Paving one's own path. Stepping out of comfort zones to some pretty wild degrees. Being a go-getter. Every archetype that might be called cheesy or even obsolete by some are nonetheless archetypes Chris upholds quite vocally to the degree he believes his own stances to be in the right by default too. Which leads to his Red Flag; he has the tendency to overlook his own propensity to be influenced by the bad same as any other person under the sun precisely due to the fact he's an idealist who feels he's above that sort of thing. That he's above being corrupted. He is often blind to his own capability to do wrong as well as anyone he'd consider a monster. He doesn't really think he has the inclination to stray from what's morally right which is ironically his biggest weakness.

― O'Neill? Lets start with his Red flag because it's infinitely more pronounced ---- and that's his habit of brownnosing and supporting tyrants. Yep, he'll take the biggest, baddest mofo in any group, single them out and become a loyal and devoted back up to them, by extension elevating himself in any faction where there's power, influence and pure muscle, smarmily standing by to any number of crappy things and atrocities if it means he'll be in the corner of a despot warlord rather than in his way. His Green flag on the other hand is that he's just some guy at the end of the day. Some guy in a bad situation, at a bad time, surrounded by infinitely worse men than himself and just out to survive and I think Red himself realizes that which explains most of the things he does and why he does them. His weasel-like cowardice and outright fear of his own surroundings and how immeasurably high the stakes are is both his fatal flaw and the thing that humanizes him and it's ironically the thing that saves his own life.

― Bunny's Red flag is that he's genuinely a psychopath who's aware of his own tendencies and doesn't even fathom caring. He kills, he enjoys it, he likes the war by his own admission, he's happy he's in it and my god, it's just about the equivalent of an amusement to park to him. Green flag? A Green flag that's only and exclusively good for Bunny and just about nobody else? The fact that he doesn't even realize he should be afraid of the situation he's in or its overall gravitas, which is a byproduct of his sociopathy. Man's joyful in his own sick world and that shields him from the horrors of war as a whole, which is both an enviable position to be in and genuinely the most scary thing about him. There's no huge trauma, no major guilt or tremendous demons for this kid and if he ever went home he's most likely out of the bunch to go home content. Hilarious thing is, while other men might've returned from Vietnam broken, Bunny might return flushed, healthy and beaming, like he's back from a spa.

― Rhah's Green flag is that he will diffuse any situation skillfully. Talk either side of any conflict out of bad and destructive decisions. He'll be in the ear of his friend one moment, persuading them out of doing something dumb and he might be in his friend's enemy's ear the next in equal measure de-escalating and talking them out of doing something even dumber, making him the perfect middle man. The perfect individual to smooth shit out at any given moment, pretty much within a second's notice. Even though he would never admit to something like this, he is the ultimate peacemaker when he sets his mind to it simply due to the fact how very convincing he is at making arguments believably and diffusing tensions from various points of view effortlessly. Red Flag? Often has such a doom-and-gloom outlook on everything that it comes off like he's a disinterested centrist to the degree of apparent carelessness and aloofness, but it's not due to the fact he's a bad person as much as that he's seen so much crap he's just about done with it all.

― Wolfe's Green flag is that he's normal. Yep. He maintains a more or less sound mind in the midst of war and if he comes off like something of a slippery wet noodle out of his element it's mainly because he's compared to the standards of what's effectively a band of seasoned killers and experienced veterans few people could stand up to in the first place --- not without being or becoming seasoned killers and experienced veterans themselves first. He's awkward, incompetent, he falls short in many ways, he flops but he has sanity of mind to the degree sanity of mind can be kept within the given circumstances which is a feat all by itself and this interestingly enough interconnects with his Red Flag and that's that his leadership skills are catastrophic precisely due to the fact that he's an average, underqualified guy way in over his head. He's not cut out for war and that both his virtue and his flaw simultaneously. It's exactly Wolfe's fish-out-of-water regularity that endangers his platoon on the daily.

― King is all Green flags and pretty much has no red ones, if you believe me, because no matter how much you think about it, you can't really pinpoint anything of note that makes this man a truly negative influence in any way that actually matters or makes a huge difference. Man's simply all positivity, uplifting, an admirable sense of friendship, togetherness and camaraderie and having the talent of taking the darkest, worst moments imaginable and weaving some sense of hope for the future out of them in spite of the odds, making him one of the most consistently and genuinely nice people in the platoon along with people like Big Harold, Gardener or even Crawford. He's just a salt of the earth soldier who gets in and out of service alive and successful and doesn't lose his soul or sense of self in the process and not only that, but helps maintain a tiny shred of joy and humanity in others too, and as such, Green flags around. The best person out of all the boys all around.

― Elias's Green flag is his zeal. Ironically, Elias's Red flag is his zeal too. What makes him stand out virtuously is what destroys him. He believes in everything good, righteous and just, except that in his overwhelming passion to do right he tends to believe in these things a little too loudly and openly which makes him friends as well as enemies at the same time --- by extension, a dangerous position to be in. He isn't shrewd or calculative and within the given circumstances, that is a weakness. He cannot slyly bide his time, be silently two-faced, sleazy or report someone or something behind their back. He's fully transparent. Entirely honest, almost as a detriment to himself as a result. His honorable tendencies come front and center and in turn these same honorable tendencies are like a red scarf waved in front of a raging bull. There's something ethereal about him to the degree he forgets of the down and dirty business he's in and that people are by no means as lofty or as spiritual as he is and if that isn't the most tragic thing ever, I don't know what is.

― Barnes' Red flags are that he's bloodthirsty, vengeful, cold, calculating, manipulative, cruel, sadistic and any number of negative epithets one could bring up. His Green flag, though? The fact that precisely due to the fact that he's a frightening, murderous asshole he's exactly the type of guy most likely to save someone's life in a tight spot during all out combat and rush into the thick of a skirmish without batting an eye to get them out simply on the basis of 'the machine gotta keep spinning', making him in effect the opposite of someone like, say, Wolfe. Unlike him, it's the fact that Barnes is a killer that makes him effectively almost mechanically courageous and even dastardly. Man will stare death right in the fact and ask for it. It's his sheer efficacy that's his virtue. In a bad situation, when you're surrounded? Ironically, it's Barnes of all people you want in your corner because Barnes is most likely to get you out alive. The same way Barnes is most likely to kill you. But, it's this unflinching devotion to a cause that's both daunting and almost morbidly admirable because the man just doesn't stop.

[senka-mesecine]

Ok but because you brought up kinky over are there any platoon characters u think would be into spanking? Sorry if that sounds weird 💀

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― I'll be damned if Chris at first didn't even really connect the dots and figure that spanking can be and is at times sexual in nature. In some jumbled up recess of his mind he downright thought it's an actual corporal punishment for misbehavior not unlike a slap; you know, John Wayne in an old movie taking the misbehaving female co-star across the lap for comedic effect. That's the vision Taylor might've grew up on. It's not that he's a prude. Not that he's disconnected. It's simply that he's more unspoiled than he seems or than he likes to portray himself as. His thoughts are uncharacteristically pure and he's a product of the times, at least at the start of the war. It's only when some of the (very amused) boys in his squad take it upon themselves to explain (and maybe bust out the odd Playboy magazine for a demonstration) does the goddamn obvious become clear and Taylor can't believe it was under his nose the whole time. King and Rhah might be there laughing that college boy never heard of something like this before and how it's no wonder he dropped out if things were so sterile and boring out there on campus if their boy Taylor never even caught wind of someone getting their ass smacked for fun at some party somewhere. -"Man, I'd leave too."- King might cackle as Taylor looks on befuddled --- it takes a while for this newfound fascination and kink to ripen in his mind and he probably didn't stumble into the fetish on his own. Like many things, it was thrust upon him and he developed around it.

― To expand on the notion, Rhah is not only into spanking, he'll infect everyone else with the kink too, case and point, newbie, freshblood Taylor. He might be there falling into a full on narrative sequence where he explains precisely how he did it to someone in painfully arduous detail. His voice will grow deep, he'll immerse himself into the tale, might use a pillow off of his bunk bed placed upon his lap or any other fitting object to occasionally include a visual bit of aid as his hand comes smacking down on the surface startling everyone listening to him...which was Rhah's goal in the first place. It's hard to assess how truthful his anecdotes really are at times due to their often pompous and theatric nature, but he tells them with so much passion and zeal one entirely believes what they're hearing because he'll describe every sensation, sound and feeling, giving one the impression they're almost intruding on someone's foreplay while listening to Vermucci hold court. Someone like King (who has the same kink, perhaps simply through association) might even occasionally comment with a smile how 'Rhah's full of shit.' to which Rhah might reply that he's not here to convince naysers of what's right or wrong all while he's spent the better half of the hour doing just that. Ultimately, one can conclude that these boys possess the fetish and mainly spend their time idly fantasizing about it amongst themselves to pass the time rather than actually doing any of it.

― O'Neill talks about spanking in theory but he never actually does it...not because he can't but because being the party that gives isn't actually his kink. Not in actuality. He's all about the whole braggadocious habit he has where he's all talking the talk and never really walking the walk, you know? Telling you how you need to be put across a knee (probably not really even specificizing whose knee exactly because that would leave you with expectations) how all that pretty ass of yours needs is a hand across it (again...very broad and general), how one of these days you'll be given a taste of that O'Neill authority if he feels particularly keen on annoying you and eliciting a reaction of any variety all while acting overall smarmy and lecherous to push your buttons but chances are no spanking really happens because this is another macho facade mainly intended to give off the impression he's top dog dishing out some sort of vague discipline; truth of the matter is that what gets him really hot is the notion of you doing it to him but he can't really vocalize that one out loud without compromising the image he's cultivated so far...but chances are that everyone can silently tell that Red's whole mask is just that; a mask. Nobody says anything to the contrary but nobody really reacts when he flaunts the image of a disciplinarian either and all it takes for the facade to crumble is you perhaps idly tapping his own ass while hugging him without even thinking anything of it by being affectionate and this man will crumble and melt within no time; which is funny for a person with so much apparent bravado. But, that's O'Neill for you.

― What's the point of even discussing our boy Bunny's kinks when you could pretty much balance a Budweiser can on your head and by tomorrow that too will become a kink to him. That's how high strung, hormonal and horny he tends to be. He likes...just about everything; normal and abnormal, a bit like a snot nosed boy only just discovering what's what and having too much bravado that's spilling out of him at every waking hour. That's the point of sexual exploits where he's concerned; doing just about everything under the sun if you can. And if you can't, what's even really the endgame of it all? Unlike most of the other boys, his sole virtue in the matter being that he's very openly willing to confess he's never spanked anyone but entirely would at a drop of a hat if it meant he could get the pussy afterwards too --- he'd talk irritatingly frankly about this and without an ounce of shame --- fact is, just talking about it amuses him. Probably to Junior who's just about had enough listening to the entire barrage of the disturbed and occasionally perverted things Bunny usually has to say on the daily and undoubtedly takes a wholly contrarian stance that he hates spanking purely because Bunny said he loves it; but truth is, both are probably realistically too young and green to even know what the heck they're talking about. So, does Bunny like spanking then? Likes it if it's available as an option on the table and doesn't care for it until it's, you guess it, available as an option on the table. He's got a weirdly efficient tunnel vision like that.

― Wolfe needs to be genuinely sat down for someone to explain to what the heck any of this is, not because he doesn't know per se but because he tends to get so tongue tied and these things require time to process to the degree he outright needs to be talked through it first and have a moment to catch a breather afterwards as you go into the details why you want him to do it, what it means, that it'll turn you on, that it could potentially turn him on as well, that it feels good, that you like it and that you specifically want him to help you achieve the goal of getting off through him spanking you. It functions very much like an official briefing for Wolfe; no different from explaining an attack strategy and laying out all the various pieces. In this sense he's truly not that far off from Taylor and they differ solely in the sense that a new grunt like Chris who hasn't really been tasked with commanding anyone can be expected not to know how to take charge but someone who's a Lieutenant commanding a platoon of men being at a loss for words is certainly more surprising of a development. He almost certainly enjoys the very idea you were willing to put such power into his hands and connecting him to an idea of dominance far more than actually dominating meaning that Wolfe might just get off on just thinking about spanking you rather than actually doing it. You just talking about it to him and explaining how much you want him in a role of authority develops into more of a fetish for him than anything else here. Whoops.

― Elias isn't into spanking. Is willing to indulge it for your sake, sure, because your pleasure matters to him, but on his own accord? Nah. Doesn't hate it but it's possibly not one of the top things for him either, you see. What he prefers more is caressing your ass slowly. Admiring it. Having you sprawled out over his lap. Trailing his hand over the outline of your buttocks. Giving them occasional soft, sensual slaps or gropes. Kissing them. Asking you to tell him how good it feels. Denying you the pleasure of getting truly disciplined, and ironically, disciplining you through that. He'd, in fact, go the route of any number of extravaganzas like eating your ass, doing lines off of it, downright blowing smoke into it while he's getting high, but spanking as such falls completely short in the long line up of things Elias actually wants to do and heck, by comparison of most of his other fetishes it almost comes off as a vanilla kink to have. Elias just marches to the beat of his own drum like that and one gets the impression he genuinely has so much sexual experience he doesn't even bother feeling braggadocious about that spanking is bordering on something commonplace to him, but ever the humble guy, he smiles and does it just for you. Or at least teases doing it. You might be perched up on his lap expecting a blow, getting all hot and excited for the prospect and he just holds his hand up in the air gently toying with your expectations and never actually going through with it, leaning down and kissing each of your cheeks instead with the most impish grin imaginable.

― I mean, Barnes probably wanted to spank you from the moment you were ever kind to anyone, kind to him, from the moment you told a joke, laughed at someone else's, acted slightly willful or even way too obedient, from the moment you talked back or perhaps practiced the habit of being silent and professionally keeping to yourself. From the moment you did anything in regards of anything and anyone else. It really doesn't particularly matter what you do or how you do it; The sight of you alone makes the palm of his hand itch and he's most likely to downright discipline you if you step out of line, fail at something, do something wrong, disobey him or, say, put yourself in danger (and by extension, the way he'd see it, sabotage his war machine and everyone in it) and do so way before your relationship with him ever even becomes romantic or physical by openly bending you over his knee and giving you a smacking for good measure so the lesson sticks next time --- what's worse, the act of it could be seen as fully non-sexual and written off as a gesture of showing the underling a firm hand. He'll just do it when he's decided chewing you out verbally just won't cut it and do it irregardless of who's present, who's not and who gets to it see it. Could be see as corporal punishment dished out by a Sergeant and it could be seen as a kink but where Barnes is concerned the two are very much the same because he'll conduct both with all the seriousness in the world, be it in a domestic setting or in the army. When he says your ass is his he very much means that. And if he decides its warranted? You'll be put over the knee in the name of Code Red and he'll call it a day.