#base 16 uses A through F I think...

[pelahnar]

Every base is base 10

how do you write 2 in binary? 10

how do you write 5 in base 5? 10

how do you write 64 in base 64? you guessed it, 10

We should've named bases after the highest digit used in the system, not the number of digits used in the system

Base 2 should be Base 1, because it goes up to 1 and it's silly to not have a base 1 anyway

Base 5 should be Base 4 because it goes up to 4 before starting over at 0

Of course, this does mean that base 10 will have to be renamed to base 9, but I think that everyone will be okay with that when I explain how much more sense the other bases make this way

[beenreidingaboutyou]

When I'm Down on My Knees, You're How I Pray

who? Spencer x afab! reader

content warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+ content, unholy use of bible verses, inaccurate use of religious themes, oral (m), fingering (f), reader has hair that can be pulled, mention of religious trauma, Jesus Reid, please let me know if I've missed anything else!

a/n: Believe it or not, I actually toned down the blasphemy in this fic. Huge thank you to @minswriting for answering my 20 million questions about this because I've never written smut before and that's the majority of what she does. (Also she came up with the title, it's a Lana lyric)

thank you to @cafekitsune for the MDNI divider and @saradika-graphics for the stained glass divider

word count: 1.3k

You’ve spent your adult life avoiding anything related to church and religion. Growing up in an overly religious household and being forced to attend church services twice a week, in addition to the Bible study and choir practice, meant that anything related to religion left a bad taste in your mouth. While you’ve never outright mentioned this to Hotch, he seemed to pick up on it and respected your wishes, never sending you to interview priests or visit cathedrals that had been the scene of a crime. At least, until he had respected your wishes until this case. He paired you with Spencer and sent you both to investigate an older crime scene at a nearby church. Despite your best efforts, you were unable to weasel out of your assignment, so here you were, stuck thinking about the fact that you were going to church with the one person you’d always been attracted to since joining the BAU.

You were oddly quiet as the two of you walked through the building

“So, what are your thoughts?” Spencer asks, breaking the silence.

“Being here brings back all of the religious trauma I endured as a kid and you looking like Jesus is certainly not helping.”

You see Spencer furrow his brows in confusion, his gaze shifting from the church to you, “I-I’m sorry, did you just say I look like Jesus?” 

“Yeah, I did. Except you’d be the one I’d get on my knees for,” you say teasingly, shooting a wink in his direction.

He chokes on air, “e-excuse me?”

“Anyways, let’s go check out the confessional,” you reply, wanting to get out of the church as soon as possible.

As you step into the cramped confessional, you can feel Reid close behind you. You can feel the effect your teasing remark had on him as his bulge presses against your back, though you’re sure the action is unintentional on his part. 

You turn to face him and glance down at the tent his pants, “do you want some help with that?”

His face flushes, “w-what?”

“Shhh, let me take care of you,” you mumble as you get down on your knees in front of him. 

You hear his breath hitch in his throat as you undo his belt. You quickly unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down and leaving him in his boxers. You palm his bulge and glance up at him, “Looks like you enjoyed the idea of me worshipping your cock.”

He whimpers and nods. You slowly pull his boxers down, freeing his length. He whimpers as you run your thumb over his tip, collecting the leaking precum. “You like that, baby?” you ask, looking up at him. 

He nods his head pathetically in response. You bite your lip and wrap your hand around his length, giving a few experimental tugs. The sound of his whimpers went straight to your cunt, leaving you desperate to hear more.

“My heart is glad and my tongue rejoices, Psalm 16:9” you recited before you slowly lick the underside of his cock, going from the base to the tip. You can’t help but smirk slightly at the moan that escapes his mouth. You wrap your lips around him, only taking a little more than the tip into your mouth. You look up at him as you swirl your tongue around his length, loving the way he’s reacting to your teasing. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks down at you, enjoying the view, but clearly wanting more. You slowly take more of him into your mouth and you feel him tangle his fingers in your hair as he lets out a loud moan. You keep going until he hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly. Spencer gently caressed your hair, a subtle way of telling you to be careful.

You start to bob your head, going at a teasingly slow pace, savoring the moans and whimpers that he lets out. You hollow out your cheeks around him and he groans in response, bucking his hips slightly. You pick up your pace as he grips your hair, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He groans and uses your hair to guide you, forcing you to go faster. You moan around his length and something in him snaps. He holds your head still and starts bucking his hips, thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag each time he hits the back of your throat. You look up at him with tears in your eyes, loving the sight of him with his head thrown back and mouth open. He moaned your name so prettily, the sound echoing around the church.

You feel his cock twitch and he starts to pull out, but you grab his hips and hold him in place. He cums with a loud groan, shooting his seed down your throat. You eagerly swallow his load before leaning back, a trail of spit and cum. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you stand up. You can’t resist the urge to wink and say, “Amen” 

He takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a rough, needy kiss. His tongue slips past your lips and he groans at the taste of himself on your tongue. His hands move down to your thighs and he picks you up, placing you on the prayer ledge without breaking the kiss. 

“From the fruit of their lips people are filled with good things and the work of their hands brings them reward, Proverbs 12:14,” Spencer whispers in your ear as his hands slowly trail under your skirt, his fingers tracing your thighs as they get closer to your core. You moan softly as his fingers brush against your panties and he starts pressing open mouth kisses to the side of your neck. You let your head fall back, giving him more room to kiss and suck on your neck and collarbones. He smirks and gently sucks a mark on your pulse point as he pushes your panties to the side.

“You’re so wet, angel,” Spencer murmured against your skin. “Did you get all worked up using your mouth on me?” 

You whimper quietly as he uses one of his fingers to spread your wetness around. He doesn’t tease you for long, within moments you feel the tip of his finger brushing against your clit. You moan in response, his touch sending sparks all over your body. He begins to gently rub your clit in a circular motion, working you slowly.

You gasp loudly when he slips one of his fingers inside you, his long, slender finger reaching far deeper than yours ever could. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before adding a second finger. His pace increases and he curls his fingers, brushing against your g-spot. You moan his name, causing him to pick up speed. 

“Does that feel good, angel?” Spence asked lowly, watching the way you fell apart under his touch.

 “Uh-huh, so good, Spence”

He smirks as you clench around his fingers. His thumb moves to rub your clit as he continues thrusting his fingers. 

“You gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes, yes, ohhh god.” You moan loudly, shaking as you let go, your thighs squeezing around him. 

“I wanna be inside you, angel,” Spencer mumbled, pushing your skirt up. 

You nod and lift your hips to make it easier for him. You can hear a low moan slip from his mouth when he exposes the lacy panties you’re wearing that day. He hooks his fingers in the waistband to pull them down, but gets interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

He reluctantly answers the call, “Reid.” 

You listen quietly as he speaks, trying to get your breathing back to normal. He hangs up the phone and pouts, “Hotch wants us back at the station.”

“I gathered,” you mumble as he steps back, giving you room to stand up and fix your skirt.

“If you want, you can come by my hotel room later? Finish what we started?” He offers as he pulls up his pants.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

[solar4seekstron]

Plan A - Megatron

Megatron x Cybertronian!GN!Reader Oneshot Part One

Solars Indie Series

Plan B, Plan C, Plan D, Plan E, Plan F, Plan G, Plan H, Plan I, Plan J, Plan K, Plan L, Plan M, Plan N

Introduction Indie Series

Content: 16+

TW/Tags: Bit of Angst, Toxic relationship, takes place after the movie, Megatron has trust issues. I think I’ll make a 2nd part but we’ll see. I like writing for our angsty boy.

After the war you chose to leave Megatron once he left a day before. You told Optimus and the others that you’ve made your choice and you believe you can help bring back D-16. Optimus was hesitant and asked reasonable questions. You told him that you’re willing to stay under cover and do your best. If anything like it becomes too much and if it calls for it. You’ll return to the Autobots. No connection or anything. You would just focus on trying to bring D back.

Your bond was broken from that die. When you told Megatron his way isn't right. But he only saw you as a traitor now. And so with that you carried out your plan. On the next day you transform into a sort of jet. And made your way to where Megatron and the high guard might be. As you kept flying, unknown to you. One of the guards detected you. Megatron knew it was you based on the shape, at least it must’ve been you. He had one of the high guards fly him to you. Getting right behind you on one of the high guards flying to you and before you even noticed and knew it. Megatron landed on top of you. Before telling the high guard that he’ll deal with you. Knowing he’ll be able to handle you one on one.

As he tried to get you to transform, you struggled to stay in the air. He continued, staying on top of you. So as you got lower, you transformed, finally getting him off as you both flew and rolled onto the ground. He was a few feet ahead of you and you were quick to get up. Your legs hurt from the landing. Almost losing your balance as you got up and you surely had a few dents on your body.

You watched as Megatron stood up and turned to you. That angry look in his red optics as he stared you down. He was way more than a few inches taller than you now. “Y/N…..” you backed up. Maybe you didn’t think this fully through.

”Megatron please listen to me I just came to ta-“ He charges at you. It was almost dark and at the same time you weren’t sure what to do. When you backed up you ended up tripping, landing on your aft as he got closer. You tried to protect yourself as he finally got close. Only using your arms to not anger him more with your blasters. Prepared for what ever blow he throws at you soon.

Only for him to stop in front of you. Letting out a few breaths as he stared down at you. He noticed you were shaking and wasn’t going to fight him. His face showed disappointment and his optics narrowed again as his fists fell to his sides.

He looked down at you thinking about what he’s about to do. He’d never hit you. Would He?

Your optics were closed until you finally opened them. You looked at him and you two stared at each other. You were shaking as he remained still. He continued to look at you with an almost tired but angry look. He then kneels down before grabbing your wrist as he brings you closer. You only looked down as you closed your optics. He analyzed you as his optics only closed a bit more. He finally spoke. His voice as dark and rough as before.

”Why….did you come? Prime make you a spy to use me?!” You stayed silent for only a second

”I……Megatron…I changed my mind….a-and…” Your optics start to gain tears as you spoke “I missed you Megatron….I-i can’t-“

”I have no room for weaknesses…no more.” He stood up pulling at your wrist making you stand up. He then held your jaw with a firm grip as he made you up look at him fully. You slowly opened your optics as you looked up at him. He’d then tilt his head to the side a little as his optics look down at you.

”Please Megatron. I just….I just can't live a life. Without knowing you’re out there. D. You’re still in there somewhe-“ His cervo on your wrist tightened causing you pain as he removes his cervo from your chin. Moving his hand to your neck. Gently squeezing. “D-16…..is dead….I Am Megatron.” He says as he leaned his face closer to you.

Now you were mad. You tried to pull your arm away but his grip was firm as he remained still. You used your other cervo to push against his chassis. “My spark belongs to D-16. Not. Megatron. D is still in there and I’ll only follow D-16. And if you can’t get that through your-“

In a fast movement, he pulled at your wrist. His other cervo that was once holding your throat was now around your waist. Both of your chassis together. “Now why is it D-16…instead of Megatron?…..Because I’m no longer weak…all…sweet?” You only had anger in your optics now. “You’re not the bot I fell in love with.” Your digits scratched at his insignia on his chassis. He did a really good job hiding how hurt he got from that……

“…..You’re just a con now.” You two stared at each other. Both of your optics narrowed. What you didn’t expect was him laughing. He was laughing at your face.

“Yes. I’m not him……” He leaned closer to your audio sensors, speaking in a deep voice. “I’m someone better.” Now you were really scared. As he continues to glare down at you. You try again to pull away until his arm is around your waist and his cervo on your upper back makes you stay close. His other cervo no longer holding your jaw. Moving to the back of your helm.

“This time, I can be a Better Conjunx for you.” Your optics widened as you kept trying to pull back. Only to feel Megatrons dermas against yours. Your own cervos pushing and hitting at his shoulders and chassis. His optics closed as yours remained open. Your cervos barely able to scratch his arm. The cervo behind your helm gently squeezed as a warning, making you stop but your cervos remain against his chest. Trying to create some distance.

He missed you. Oh how he deeply missed you. At first he wasn’t sure but knew he was going to be miserable without you. Despite his new found goal in life. You are the only good thing left. Might as well keep you seeing you’re here now. At first he didn’t trust you when you came. But he knows with his new cog and the power he holds….How can you ever protect yourself? Even from him now. He isn’t weaker then you now.

You can be his once more. By his side. Where you belong.

His kiss became more and more passionate. He deepens the kiss as he tilt his helm. His arm squeezing you closer to him and the cervo moved from the back of your helm to the nape of your neck. You were certain he would break your neck until he stopped. His head then leaned back a bit as he opened his optics once more. His optics not even a little softer.

”Y/N You may join me…but you are my Conjunx. Nothing more. Nothing less. And if you were to betray me in any way……Your punishment will become a part of your every being……” He meant it. You know he does. But you know you must stand your ground. Bring back D-16, stop him from this ‘goal’. You were going to suffer you knew this. But whatever comes your way. You can handle it..

”I’ll join you…” Megatrons finally shows a grin. Both of your forhelms touched once more as you knew what to do next. Both of your inner chassis open up and your sparks soon shine and glow.

You closed your optics waiting for the bond as his only stared down at you. His grin never left his face as his hold remained firm. Your bond with him is no longer soft and full of joy. But anger and…..distrust…..his love was there but it was so far. You have a lot of work to do. Megatron leaned forward, his dermas connecting with yours once more. This time you returned the kiss. Yours was gentle but the passion in your kiss was weak as his was more dominant.

Megatron then gets a comm from Soundwave asking where he was. Megatron growled into the kiss and pulled back. Removing his cervo once on the back of your neck to the bridge of his nose as he responds. His optics closed as he listened to Soundwave speak. You looked at his insignia. You know he’ll put one on you..eventually. His other cervo was resting around your waist continueing to hold you close. You looked down as you waited for him to finish. After a few nano cycles. His call ended and let you go. You were honestly happy to be out of his embrace. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign on your part.

”Follow me Y/N. It’s time you meet ‘the new team’…” He transformed. You did the same and flew over following him. You’re going to be stuck with Megatron for a very long time…

This was pretty fun to write and I hope you all enjoy this ����

[fookinhellcurlyyy]

McDon't Pap Recap

Got busy right after I posted the new articles earlier lol. I thought of making a rundown of what we got so far. (I've added all of these info in the 2025 Timeline also; ALL IN UK TIME.)

PARKING LOT PAP PICS (4/16/25, 12:00 PM)

First articles (The S*n / DM) dropped at 12:00 PM. L looked like he couldn't give a f*ck. And the video made it look so much worse—you can see how orchestrated and unnatural the whole interaction was.

The first released articles didn't seem to get enough clicks, so they repurposed the content with the same set of photos (which did not reach DM’s homepage and main entertainment page) for a new one released a few hours later, at 12:44 AM on 4/17/25. They added comments from a “body language expert” (+ adjusted SEO), essentially saying that L is “falling in love quickly” while Zara is being cautious. Even the GP wasn't convinced.

Extra: Somewhere in between those two articles, GQ released the article confirming H was wearing a classic Tank Louis Cartier with blue crown and hour/minute hands from the pap photos. We still don't have a clear photo of him wearing that watch though.

LOUCHELLA PHOTO DUMP (4/17/25, 4:30 AM)

L posts his photo dump (4/16/25, 8:30 PM in LA time).

Tabloids like DM and Metro were quick to pick it up and look into it, acknowledging that there was no trace of Zara. She did like the post, which they noted to be a "seal of approval" or "sending support."

PETE'S SHADE (4/17/25, 11:50 AM)

Later in the morning, articles about Sam T’s bff Pete “breaking his silence” dropped. He threw some major shade (video here):

"That's amazing, I've seen the pictures they're walking through a car park, really romantic…I'm really struggling not to say anything but it is good gossip. I might tell you some more off air."

GARAGE PAP PICS (4/18/25, 1:00 PM)

L was wearing the same exact outfit from the first set of parking lot pap pics we got on 4/16/25. He really couldn’t care less lol These were probably taken the same day they did the parking lot pap walk.

The S*n mixed things up and saying it’s from his Malibu home. (No, he doesn’t have a Malibu house. They used an AirBNB rental in Malibu—same one they used last year).

Speaking of rental, that rental was available as early as 4/11 to 4/14/25 (checked). My theory is L (and the team) did arrive on 4/1/25 or even a few days earlier. The guitar post on 4/1/25 was new and real-time, then he deleted it. Riccardo and Zak only posted IGS of the pool area of the place on 4/10/25, possibly before they left for Palm Springs (so I guess they could only share they were there at that time before they officially left the premises).

Extra: I don't think it's the same rental they used for this sesh based on the peeking pillar + bush in the photo, but won't elaborate since I'm not sure about some things.

Update: Confirmed that they used a different property (still in Malibu) from the same company to do the garage pap sesh (thanks @omglarryrabbit). They likely borrowed (since L's a regular client, maybe?) / rented (seems to have been rented; Riccardo posts a series of IGS photos from Coachella weekend, one of which is the poolside of the 2nd Malibu rental) that other Malibu rental for at least a day or so. It's a house at the end of a cul-de-sac, with a very open street and garage entrance. L's too high profile and too private to pick that location for himself. And I don't think he'd bring #her and the paps at the very place he regularly stays at.

SO. There's that. She's giving reality TV show.

Watch Lou eat avocados next.

[suhosieun]

could u tell us more about each mbti type in general ? ur post about the whc characters was so interesting <3

i'm glad you enjoyed my post about whc, and of course, i'd be more than happy to brief you about mbti. however, i hope you don't regret asking this question, because you might have unleashed a beast.

so, get ready for a quick mbti class! here's a little cheat sheet i made for your reference:

so basically, mbti operates on cognitive functions, which are just the mental processes we rely on to make decisions and understand the world. there are eight functions total, and each one is either:

introverted or extraverted (how you engage with your inner self versus how you engage with the external world)

judging or perceiving (deciding versus observing)

everyone has all eight functions, but in different orders. your mbti “type” (like INFP, ESTJ, etc.) is based on which four you use the most, and especially your top two, called the dominant and auxiliary functions. these two shape most of your personality.

if your dominant function is a perceiving function (N, S), then your auxiliary function would be a judging function (T, F). if one is extraverted, the other is introverted.

so if you're an ISTJ, for example, that doesn't mean you don't perceive at all. the S in ISTJ helps you perceive (through sensing), while the T helps you judge. J in your mbti just means that your judging function (T) makes the external part of your personality (so, Te), while your perceiving function (S) is who you are on the inside, (so Si).

now that we have that out of the way, let me brief you on all 16 mbti types, based on their dominant/auxiliary function pairings:

INFP (Fi-Ne)

to explain functions a bit: an INFP's dominant function is Fi (introverted feeling), which means their personal values and emotions are very inward, deep, and individual.

their auxiliary is Ne (extraverted intuition), so they interpret the world through patterns, ideas, and possibilities, very externally focused.

so INFPs tend to be thoughtful, emotionally independent, and idealistic. they care a lot about authenticity and inner peace, and they love exploring new ideas and meanings behind things.

ENFP (Ne-Fi)

ENFPs lead with extraverted intuition, constantly scanning for possibilities, ideas, connections. their secondary function, Fi, means they check those ideas against their personal values.

they’re outwardly energetic, spontaneous, and full of big-picture thinking, but they’re also quietly principled and sensitive under the surface.

the difference between ENFP and INFP isn't that one is an extrovert and the other is an introvert (though that might be the case, a lot of times). it just means that ENFP's intuition (Ne) is stronger than their feeling (Fi), while an INFP's Fi is stronger than their Ne.

INFJ (Ni-Fe)

introverted intuition (Ni) leads INFJs to focus inwardly on abstract insights, long-term patterns, and “gut” feelings. Fe, their secondary, is how they connect to others, read emotional environments and try to maintain harmony.

they often come across as calm, gentle, and emotionally intelligent externally (because their external function is feeling), yet internally they can be intense and future-focused, thanks to their introverted intuition.

ENFJ (Fe-Ni)

ENFJs lead with Fe, meaning they prioritize external harmony and the emotional needs of others. their Ni makes them insightful about people’s long-term paths and potential.

they are warm, empathetic leaders, often guiding others with a mix of emotional intelligence and quiet vision.

again the difference between ENFJ and INFJ is that ENFJs rely on their external function (Fe) more, while INFJs rely on their internal function (Ni) more.

INTP (Ti-Ne)

Ti (introverted thinking) leads INTPs to analyze things logically and independently. paired with Ne, they explore endless possibilities, ideas, and patterns.

they’re deeply curious, skeptical, and abstract in their thinking. they can get stuck in their heads, but that’s also where they thrive.

ENTP (Ne-Ti)

ENTPs are idea machines. their Ne drives them to chase possibilities and mentally experiment with “what-ifs.” their Ti evaluates those ideas with internal logic.

they’re witty, rebellious thinkers, drawn to novelty, debate, and intellectual play.

INTJ (Ni-Te)

Ni gives INTJs a single-minded focus on long-term visions, strategies, and future outcomes. their Te (extraverted thinking) helps them organize the external world efficiently to achieve those visions.

they’re goal-oriented, rational, and strategic; rarely loud, but always calculating the next move.

ENTJ (Te-Ni)

ENTJs lead with Te, structuring the world around them based on objective logic and efficiency. their Ni keeps them oriented toward long-term goals and intuitive predictions.

they’re decisive, commanding, and visionary; often seen as natural leaders who value competence above all.

ISFP (Fi-Se)

Fi makes ISFPs deeply value-driven and emotionally independent. Se means they perceive the world through immediate sensory experiences.

they’re artistic, grounded in the present, and often express emotion through action or creativity rather than words.

ESFP (Se-Fi)

ESFPs are vivacious and in-the-moment. their Se makes them attuned to the physical world, while Fi means they still stay true to their personal values.

they’re bold, warm, and emotionally reactive; often spontaneous with a hidden depth.

ISTP (Ti-Se)

ISTPs use Ti to assess things logically and independently, and Se to interact fluidly with their environment.

they’re adaptable, often quiet but sharp, with a love for mechanics, hands-on problem-solving, and autonomy.

ESTP (Se-Ti)

ESTPs lead with Se, reacting instantly and confidently to their surroundings. their Ti filters those perceptions with logical precision.

they’re bold, action-oriented, and love pushing boundaries, often charming and clever, with an appetite for risk.

ISFJ (Si-Fe)

Si (introverted sensing) makes ISFJs rely on past experiences and traditions, while Fe helps them care for others and maintain harmony.

they’re gentle, loyal, and highly observant of people’s needs; usually quiet, but emotionally strong and dependable.

ESFJ (Fe-Si)

ESFJs lead with Fe, actively maintaining social harmony and supporting others. Si makes them grounded in familiarity and routine.

they’re sociable, nurturing, and detail-oriented, often the “glue” that holds groups and communities together.

ISTJ (Si-Te)

Si leads ISTJs to be meticulous, detail-focused, and grounded in what they know works. Te organizes the world around them in a practical, no-nonsense way.

they’re responsible, reliable, and value order and duty above chaos or novelty.

ESTJ (Te-Si)

ESTJs are dominant Te users, they love structure, control, and results. paired with Si, they draw on past systems and rules to create stability.

they’re firm leaders, often blunt but dependable, and motivated by getting things done right.

•

so that's mbti types explained through cognitive functions in the simplest way possible. hope it helps!

[sapchat]

IDK if this has been done but I went through the 3 reboots and did a timeline of events so you wouldn't have to!

Side notes: sometimes I use the first initial for who it is! also some of MW3 has timestamps. I also apologize for spelling. Also, lots of this shit happens over like 7-12 days April 6, 2019 Makarov bombs Verdansk Price, Ghost and Soap know each other at this point, have NOT met Gaz

Start of MW1 Oct 24 2019 'Al Qatal' moves gas Oct. 25 2019 Piccadilly Square Oct. 25 2019 Price meets Gaz Oct 26 19 Alex & Farah blow Barkov's bombs Same day destroy one of B's bases Oct. 27 19 Price and Gaz go to Picc Safe house Oct 28 19A&F go to Urzstan hospital for "The Wolf" Oct 28 19 P&G meet up w/ A&F for the Wolf Oct 29 19 Plan ambush for Butcher & Wolf - Hadir uses the gas, learn Hadir stole the gas Oct 29 19 PGAF Go to kill W, & get H Oct 29 19 PGAF kill the wolf, H is 2 Russia Oct 31 19 PGN go 2 Russia, Capture Kill Butcher (and traumatize a family) Nov 1 19 Hadir is handed over to Russia Nov 3 19 Take down Barkov's gas production plant & K Price meets Kate @ Tea shop makes TF 141 w/ Ghost, Soap, & Gaz END of MW1 - May 22, 2022 Soap goes side questing, turns green (idk I didn't watch the trailer (I did but I just know there's like green gas)) Start of MW2 July 15 22 Ghost Blows AlMazrah base (Honestly didn't get the point of us seeing this) Oct 28 22 GS Kill/Cap Mission for Hassan -> Find American Missiles not Hassan Oct 28 22 PG in Amsterdam for Missile info (Think they used it as an excuse to swim) Oct 29 22 Capture a cartel mem 4 info Oct 29 22 Alej. Go for cartel jumping border Oct 30 22 GSAlej go 4 Hassan safehouse They capture Hassan (picnic in the desert omg!) Oct 31 22 PG in Spain for Hassan info Kate gets caught Shepherd tries to abandon her Nov 1 22 PG meet with F to get Kate (they get her and get juicy gos on Shep) Nov 1 22 Soap goes into Casa de Sin Nombre Nov 2 22 Gulf oil rig, blows up by G&S (philip was here too) Nov 3 22 Soap & Ghost are fighting Shadow co Nov 3 22 SG go for Alej w/ Rodolfo. PG meet up Nov 3 22 141 goes for Graves Nov 4 22 Go 2 Chicago 4 Hassan & missile kill both END of MW2 - Kate (& tech. Gaz) learn about Makarov

Start of MW3 Nov 10 23 Makarov is broken out of jail 2am Nov 10 23 Farah is ambushed Konni got missiles around 6am Nov 10 23 141 go for Nuc Power Plant, P get gased 9am Makarov has been out for 6 hours Nov 11 23 They go for Missiles in Urzikistan Nov 11 23 Kate is going 4 intel on Makarov meets Yuri @ 3pm Nov 11 23 Makarov crashes plane, blames Farah and Alex go there 7:30-9:30pm meet with Kate and Nikolai in hanger Nov 12 8am Nov 12 23 they go for Milena 7pm Nov 13 23 they get Makarovs right hand man Nolan 11am Nov 14 23 They find Shepherd swimming at some point 9:30 Nov 16 23 SG stop Verdansk dam bombing Same time PG are at airsti Nov 21 23 141 go after Makarov Hacker Nov 21 23 They stop Makarov bomb, Soap gets killed. Price kills Shepherd after spreading Soap's ashes.

[ss-shitstorm]

I just want you to know that everything you have ever said about 'Starscream is 10000000% absolutely correct. The sheer power he has for inspiring some people about gender and sexuality is so fucking visceral and real.

Source: I am ace. Through both middle school and high school, I didn't experience any level of physical attraction or romantic crushes. (I did have several platonic crushes though!) Later, some friends introduced me to the transformers movie franchise. Didn't feel anything but I loved the CGI and action. Then I watched G1 and had a marvelous time with the voice acting, cheese and camp, animation errors and everything that is charming about G1. Then I watched Armada, nothing there either. Then I watched all of TFA and had a fun time with it's shenanigans and the build up of the dark themes implied that the autobots do. I kept watching over series and shows, even some fan made things because I was just super into the shows. (This also should have been a sign that I was nonbinary too. Because robots. Apparently this is a thing that happens to other NB people too.

And then, out of curiosity, and during a brief time when I was still living with my parents and we had the Internet and cable TV, I saw a new transformers show, and without thinking of it, I had it on in the background while I was studying for a college final. I got up to go to the bathroom, and I came back in.

This next event must have been ordained by either divine intervention or Starscream's sex appeal directing upcasting a level 9 divine intervention somehow combo'd with divine smite, because the scene I walked in on was from the episode where the cons capture agent Fowler.

I walk in, right as the music swells and the camera pans up, from the ground where Starscream is standing all the way up and he turns. And then that voice rumbles out.

I was so taken aback and confused until I started searching through some reddit threads on being ace, and then found out ace people often did experience sexual attraction to fictional characters, even if they never experienced it in real life. (That can can be caused by a multitude of factors, all valid, but especially I think in my case because fictional means that it's safe to fantasize about since they aren't real.)

Obviously though if this was divine intervention from Starscream to be only about him, he failed because I'm into mostly robot characters now.

My brother in christ

My sister in sin

my sibling in "jesus fucking christ what has this fucking airplane done to me"

This is the *exact* fucking scene that turned me. I've been re watching prime recently and when I saw that shit with knowing eyes this time around, ther'es no way anyone will convince me the artists/storyboarders/writers/etc didn't know damn well what they were doing.

They gave him heels. They gave him a body like a Victoria's Secret runway model and plating that looks like lingerie. *Specifically* the kind of shit a professional pole dancer and/or dominatrix would wear. They show him from the feet UP from BEHIND. They have him in what is for all intents and purposes a dungeon, with a human chained up and hanging from the ceiling. They gave him a fucking cattle prod to electrocute his ass with, all the while fucking purring at poor Fowler like the guy paid him enough to cover three month's rent to do this to him.

There's much more practical configurations for his armor. There were other angles to introduce him from. There were other far more sensible ways to restrain a human. There are far more terrifying, far less "hit me harder daddy" devices to hurt him with. They could have had him using his high, whiny, bitchy rich girl voice instead. But they didn't do any of those things because they said "fuck it", took their sunglasses off, and flew straight into the fucking sun.

My issue is slightly further complicated as I lived next to an air base at the time that I watched it, and frequently had f-16's flying so low I could see the pilot. This would go on until 5 AM sometimes, and so, in my chronically-sleep-deprived-delirium I thought "Well. If I can't get away from the planes, I may as well fetishize them. Maybe that will help."

It fucking helped alright.

Thank you so much for sharing all that stuff my dude. As someone who's attraction to other IRL humans has been tentative at best their whole life this was really eye opening. I had no clue there was actually some sort of correlation there

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 16th

Day 16: Nipple Play // Cock Worship // Lactation 

Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cock worship, praise, fondling, kissing, licking, ball sucking

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You can tell that Zach has never had this kind of attention before. His eyes are wide and fixed on you. Dilated and dark with need as his chest heaves, the glistening of a light sheen of sweat making his skin look dewy. 

“Baby, I don’t need-” His head rolls back and another soft moan falls out of his slack mouth, almost lazily as your tongue drags up the side of his cock again. 

Months ago this man had burst into your life, protective and comforting. Down on his own luck but willing to step in front of you and act like a shield. The honor that had been instilled in him on a drill field for the Marines in San Diego still visible underneath the tired misfortune. 

He had been grateful and uneasy about accepting the help you had offered, but he had done it anyway. Never one to take it for granted, to expect things. He had improved his own life through hard words and improved yours by just being a good friend. Only for those feelings that had been brewing between you to finally bubble up one night and turn into passion. 

Now you are here, showing him how much you adore him, how worthy he is for love and affection. For physicality. He had been nearly touch-starved when you first slept together, his own insecurities playing a large part of that, and you have made it a mission to prove to him that he deserves someone who gives him as much love as he has given you. 

“Yes you do.” You coo when your tongue flicks back into your mouth and you grin up at him, watching his head flop back to his chest and his eyes open lazily to watch you. Glazed over with lust and love, cheeks flushed a pretty hue and deepened when you wink at him. 

Sometimes you think that he never imagined you being so filthy. So dirty. It was like you had been placed on a pedestal in his mind, unobtainable and never willing to degrade yourself by doing something so low. 

“It’s not like any blowjob I’ve ever had.” He halfway laughs, half blows out the comment and you feel him twitching in your hand as you lazily pump him, your hand gripping his length loosely. 

“Not a blowjob.” You correct, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to the tip of the flushed head, only to sneakily lap at it when he groans again. “Cock worship.”

You can tell that he has no idea what that is, but you will show him. You are going to worship this beautiful, hard, pulsing member and make him feel better than he’s ever felt in his life. You are going to make him feel wanted, you do want him, all the time and because he is so good at satisfying you this is something you need to do. 

He whines, resisting the urge to touch you, balling his hands up in fists and panting in protest. “You could- you could come sit on my face while you do it.” He bargains, looking down at you again with a pleading expression. Again, wanting to give rather than be your sole focus. 

“This is about you, baby.” You remind him, squeezing him gently for good measure before you kiss the head again and run your tongue along that lovely little vein right back down to the base. Kissing around it and smirking to yourself that he has obviously trimmed his hair again. He keeps it short and neat, meticulously so. 

“You-” Your other hand moves down to his pelvis, pressing lightly and your teeth scrape around the shaft lightly, not enough to ever hurt him but his sharp inhale of breath tells you that he loves this. 

It’s hard not to giggle when he’s choking up and stopping mid sentence because of how you are making him feel. The pleasure that he’s getting from this overrides his embarrassment at being the center of attention, even when it’s just the two of you. Your mouth starts to slowly drag lower, not wanting to leave those beautifully soft balls denied of your touch. 

“Oh fuck.” Zach gasps, his hips jerking slightly when you take one into your mouth, sucking ever so gently and pushing it around with your tongue. “Baby, you’re so- fuck, I don’t deserve this.” He tells you breathlessly. 

Yes, he does. For the exact reason that he’s telling you he doesn’t. He has given you so much, boosted your own crumbling self image after learning that your boyfriend had been cheating. Built you back up emotionally with loving words and compliments, but he never wanted to take those same words from you. 

So you will show him through actions. As many times as it takes for him to believe that he is worth all of this and more. You just hum and continue to lavish that sac with attention while your fingers slowly stroke up and down his stiff length. 

He makes the most beautiful sounds for you. Surprised and weighted down with unspoken want, need, all wrapped up in those sexy groans and moans. Your name falls from his lips over and over again. 

Eventually, he will need more, but as you move over to the other ball, you plan on dragging this out for him. To heap this singularly focused attention on him for as long as he will be able to stand it without touching you. It’s a countdown right now. 

“Baby-” You pop the other one out of your mouth and hum as you move back up to kiss up the length of his cock and grin at him. “What do you need, Zach?” You ask playfully, circling the tip with your tongue again. 

“More.” He admits, his eyes slipping closed and his groan of your name so wrecked that it almost makes you cum. “I need more.”

“You’re going to get more.” You promise, licking your lips as you lower your head back to his cock and start the process of worshiping it all over again. He’s going to get so much more because he deserves it. 

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Monsters walk at night (Monster!Price x f!reader)

Another one for @glitterypirateduck Price writing challenge!

Scenarios used, 16. ‘A Pursuit takes place’ and 44. 'A world where mates exist':

Warnings: monster fucking, NSFW, unprotected p in v, partial smut, literally getting chased down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started off as an innocent walk through the woods by the large cabin Price had rented, (seemed more like a house when you saw it), stating you all needed a break. He had distributed the rooms when you all had arrived, securing the perimeter and making sure the security cameras and alarm system worked. You remember the day clearly.

The fridge was fully stocked as were the bathrooms, all the amenities needed for a few days stay away from civilization. You walked into the kitchen getting ready to make some food, the drive there was long and you were absolutely starving. “What are ye plannin ta make and can I have some because I am famished.” You turned to find Johnny strolling into the kitchen. “Well I wasn’t offering to make dinner just looking for a snack, but it’d be a shame to have the cabin burn down.” Johnny groans from the table, “It was one time bonnie! Was nae like I was plannin on burnin the place up!” “Johnny you set the place ablaze tryin to make CUP OF SOUP!” “I was tired!”

Price walked in shaking his head as Ghost and Gaz came in behind him chuckling. Simon piped up, “So you makin food or not?” You roll your eyes, “I’ll make a steaming pile of dog shit just for you Ghost.” “Make sure it has garlic and potatoes, yeah?” After dinner was decided on, (not dog shit), everyone settled in for the night with the exception of you and John. “Fancy a walk luv? There are lights on the trails.” You think about it for a minute and nod, “Sure. Seems like a nice night, gotta walk off that meal too.” You both chuckle and walk outside, the night warm so there was no need for jackets.

You both had been walking for about 20 minutes, the scenery beautiful and calming, making small talk as the scent of Price’s cigar smoke wafts around in the night air. The light from the cigars burning tip gave Price’s already attractive features a boost, almost making him look scary in the dark of the woods. “You know, I could use a bit more exercise. Up for a chase?” You look at him confused as he takes a hit from his cigar and blows the smoke upwards, the red embers showing in his eyes.

He leans closer as you take a step back, his eyes gleaming, his teeth seeming sharper. “Run.” That was all you needed as you took off into the trees. You don’t know how long you ran before you finally heard his boots hitting the ground behind you. He was far but not by much, the sound of his boots thudding loudly, almost like he was heavier now. You had briefly stopped behind a large rock but continued when you heard his voice ring through the forest, loud and strange. “Run all you want sweetheart. I can smell you from a mile away.”

You had barely made it to a clearing when you were tackled from behind. You managed to turn over, finding Price but he looked different. Horns protruded from his head, a spiked tail swaying behind him, teeth razor sharp and eyes glowing like the flames of hell. “Caught you darling. Smelled you the second you started running. Getting chased down turn you on?” You blushed, turning your head away. Sure you had always found Price attractive, you knew he wasn’t totally human, and maybe you had some disrespectfully spicy dreams about him, so who could blame you for being turned on.

He nudged your cheek before moving to your neck, inhaling your scent. “My mate.” “What?” “You’re my mate luv. Smelled it the second you walked onto base.” “ O-oh, um I-“ “Do you accept? I may be a monster but I’m not an asshole. I’ve seen your dreams, heard your whispers.” “This isn’t a joke right? Because…I love you, have for a while and if this is some weird or cruel joke just so you can get laid it’s not funny.”

His eyes widened, stunned. “You think so low of me? That I would make a joke of something so serious?” You shake your head no and he sighs in relief. Nuzzling into your neck, he licks and groans as he tastes your flesh mixed with sweat. “Do you accept?” You nod, “Words, dearest.” “I accept.” A rumble forms in his chest as you kiss him and you both begin to undress. You had felt the bulge of him rubbing against your thigh through the talk and it had you needy.

To say he was large was an understatement as you openly stared at the size of him. “It’ll fit fine luv, no worries.” You nodded hesitantly, “Please be gentle.” He kisses you to smooth your nerves as he slowly pushes in, catching all your pretty noises in his mouth. “That’s it darling. You were made to take me.” He was only half way in but you already felt so full of him but he continued to slip inside unhindered. When his hips finally connected with your’s he left out a drawn out moan into the night air and pulled back slowly. “I hope you’re ready sweetheart, because it’s about to be a long night.” Running a hand over the obvious bulge in your skin, you clench and that’s enough to get him started.

The night is spent surrounded by the sound of his hips meeting your’s, breathy moans, the name of your captain loud on your lips and hands firmly gripping his horns for the ride. He didn’t let up until the sun had almost broken the horizon, both of you spent and newly mated.

[hollowmem]

The hands that cradled you, were covered in blood

F!Reader x John Price

TW: topic of children abuse, medical trauma, dissociation, gaslighting.

Day 16: “The hands that cradled my face and tilted it upwards to kiss my forehead are soaked in  unfathomable quantities of blood. But they cradled me, yes?” Price learns user’s past and tries to get them to see how bad it was

The kettle clicked off with a soft pop, and she poured the water over the tea bags with practiced ease. Two mugs. His and hers. She always remembered how he liked it — no sugar, just a touch of milk.

“Okay,” she said over her shoulder, “hear me out. What if I did something small on base?”

Price looked up from the sofa, brow raised. “Small, yeah?”

“Something easy like working with paper or helping with inventory. I’m not trying to enlist.” She smiled at him, passing him his mug. “I just… I want to be around. Be useful. You’re always gone or busy, and I think I’d like to help. Even just a little.”

He studied her for a long moment, eyes searching. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. You think I can’t handle it?”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “I think you could run the whole bloody place, sweetheart. Alright. I’ll put in a request. Just need to run you through clearance.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“Mostly boring paperwork. A quick look through background and medical.” He sipped his tea, casual. “You’ll be fine.”

Later that day when he was back from work.

He kissed her temple and said “hi, love” in that warm, low voice. But it was detached. Like he was trying not to break something fragile.

She found him in the kitchen, staring down into a mug he hadn’t touched. The tea had gone cold. His hands were clenched so tight the knuckles had gone white.

“John?” she said softly.

Nothing.

“Did I… do something?”

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyes wide with something close to grief. “God, no.”

He reached for her — then stopped himself.

“Come sit,” he said, voice raw.

She obeyed. Slowly. Tension sat between them like a loaded weapon.

“I looked over your clearance forms,” he said. “Your records.”

She nodded, trying not to fidget. “Okay.”

“From when you were a kid.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Do you know how many times you were hospitalized before age twelve?”

She looked down. “No.”

“Thirty six”

Her breath caught. “That can’t be right.”

“It is.”

“I was clumsy,” she said quickly. “Always running around. I— I got into things, at least what my dad told me.”

“Dislocated shoulder. Shattered radius. Hairline skull fracture. Broken ribs. They don’t call that clumsy.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “My dad—he always took care of me. He was a good father.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Yes, he—”

“He hurt you.”

She flinched. Like the word struck her across the face.

“I don’t remember that,” she whispered.

“You blocked it out.” He leaned forward, voice tight. “Because that’s what children do when the person who’s supposed to protect them is the one doing the damage.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn’t blink. “No. No, you’re wrong. He loved me.”

Price’s voice broke open, ragged. “Then why did he keep hurting you?” She flinched.

“If he loved you—why did he put you in a hospital bed more times than you can remember?” “Because he did love me!!” she snapped. “He was always sorry! He cried when I was in pain. He sang to me. He—he said I was his whole world!”

Price stared at her, something aching and helpless sitting in his chest.

“He said you were his world,” he said slowly. “But he treated you like something he could destroy and put back together whenever he wanted.”

That landed. Not as a blow — but like the air changed around her.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I’ve seen monsters like that,” he said. “Men who hurt and cry after like that erases it. It doesn’t. It never does.”

“I don’t remember the pain,” she said. “I remember him holding me like I mattered. I remember feeling safe afterward.”

Price was quiet for a moment. Then he set his mug down. Not towering over her. Not meeting her with anger or pity. Just steady, even, there.

“Of course you remember the good,” he said softly. “It’s the only way it made sense. You needed it to mean something. Otherwise it was just cruelty. And children can’t live with cruelty. Not from someone who’s supposed to love them.”

She didn’t speak. Her eyes were wide, glassy. Unblinking.

“So your mind kept the parts that looked like love. The songs. The soft hands. The way he made you feel safe after he hurt you. Because if he was sorry, if he kissed your forehead and stayed by your bed… then it wasn’t abuse for your mind. It was just….”

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice them.

“That wasn’t love,” Price said, voice raw. “That was control. That was fear dressed up in kindness. And you didn’t know the difference, because he made sure you never learned it.”

She flinched. A soft, full-body twitch like something in her just snapped loose.

“I thought he loved me,” she said again, but quieter. As if repeating it would make it true.

“I know,” Price said. “And I wish to God he had. But he didn’t. He only taught you how to stay.”

He reached for her, slow and careful.

“And I’m here now. To show you that love is not raising hand on you. It doesn’t leave bruises. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you bleed just to apologize after.”

She leaned into him. And he caught her. Of course he did.

[flowery-mess]

WINGS AND EMBERS

series masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw x firefighter f!reader

Summary: There is a fire at the Top Gun base, no one knows how that happened, but everyone hopes Bob and Phoenix can make it through. Bradley’s mind is going crazy, thinking about how he can’t lose another person, his best friend and partner in crime. Fire fighters are called to the scene, arriving just in time to contain the fire from spreading more. And you are one of them. You recently got stationed at Station 16 in San Diego. You didn’t mind the moving, you were actually happy for a new start. You work for the fire department, crisis management to be exact. That means 90% of your work is papers, updating the crisis plans, educating others, educating the public, doing fire safety controls. The rest looks like this, being part of the calls, if you are needed. Part of your job is to be familiar with big buildings, factories or any other important objects, and to know their possible risks. The naval base in San Diego is one of the places you should know, that’s why you’re on this call, in case there is evacuation needed or if it becomes risk for the citizens that live nearby. That’s why you make your way to the group of aviators who are watching the disaster, instead diving into the fire. That’s when Bradley’s eyes lay on you. And that’s when it all begins.

Chapter one

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

My new story coming out soon. The plan is one shot, but we will see where the story will take us.

If you want to be tagged when I publish it, let me know.

[stellaronhvnters]

INTRODUCING THE STELLAWEEN FEST !

following elio’s letter, the hunters prepare themselves for the challenges ahead - on the journey of saviors. what awaits them at this festival of terrors? sign up here!

✦ I N F O R M A T I O N L O G : being in the discord server is required for the entire course of the event.

PUMPKIN PATCH 🎃 ( SEP. 28 - OCT. 6 )

a step closer to the haunted house lies in the pumpkin patch - deserted and abandoned. players are to choose a pumpkin species in order to receive a separate list of one-worded prompts. you will choose a prompt from your list only, which will only be revealed once everyone has chosen their pumpkin. read the instructions.

there are two pumpkin species you can choose from, each with their own lists of one-worded prompts.

the minimum word limit is 600, but if you’d like to write above the limit - feel free to do so!

use the tag [ stwf : pumpkin patch! ] for your submission ^_^ the due date is october 6th.

SCAVENGER HUNT 🕸️ ( OCT. 8 - OCT. 14 )

out of the pumpkin patch, you find a note in red ink - demanding you play their games to prevent the worst outcome from occurring. you will be tasked to submit a number at the end of the period, the number being the total number of pumpkins, ghosts, and webs you find in both the stellaronhvnters blog & the discord server.

you can search anywhere in both places for these hidden items, you are not restricted by any means. this could include: stellaronhvnters tags (blog), channel names (server), previous channel messages from admin yona & mod mhie (server), etc.

There are due dates for the number of individual items.

# of Pumpkins (due october 10th)

# of Ghosts (due october 12th)

# of Webs (due october 14th) + total of all three.

make sure your discord dms are opened in order for me to occasionally check for your number.

be sure to keep a number for each item (example. 🎃 - 3, 👻 - 6, 🕸️ - 9)

you are NOT allowed to share your numbers with anyone else.

the first 3 people to submit the correct number of pumpkins, ghosts, and webs will be able to choose new colors to add to the color list in the server.

HAUNTED HOUSE 👻 ( OCT. 16 - OCT. 23 )

it appears you’ve been separated from your peers the second you enter the house of the wicked, green hands breaking through the wooden tiles - reaching for your ankles as a form of sabotage. you will be placed into groups in order to collaborate on content that represents your organization’s (ex. house of the hearth, stellaron hunters, ten stonehearts, etc.) experience inside of a haunted house.

do not spoil any part of your writing/art with any other groups.

if by chance there is an artist in an all writers group - the artist is tasked to create a non-colored sketch based on the 400 wc (or more) drabble.

if the group is all writers, the wc limit of your fic will be extended to 800. you can exceed this limit if you wish to.

if your group is all artists, you’re all required to collaborate on a colored art piece (does not require complicated detailing / background due to the timeframe + does not have to include every member of the organization your group is assigned, just 1!) as long as it sticks with the theme. you are not required to post these.

MURDER MYSTERY 🐺 ( OCT. 25 - 31 )

the finish stretch … you have entered a game of Werewolves which includes: a medic who can save the other players, the Werewolves who can kill the players, and the rest are bystanders who have to try and figure out who the Werewolves are. when ‘night’ falls, the players then all close their eyes and the Hostess asks the Werewolves who they want to kill. then, the doctor is asked who they want to save. the players all open their eyes as ‘day’ breaks, and the Hostess announces whether someone died that night. If the Werewolves kills the same person as the doctor saved, they live, otherwise they die. the players then discuss who they think the Werewolves are and vote to lynch someone. It then repeats until the Werewolves are the only ones left, or are killed.

you are NOT allowed to expose your role, werewolves can pretend to be citizens and even vice versa to throw bystanders off.

the number of rounds played will extend until the date reaches October 31st.

make sure your dms are opened to receive your roles!

[neixins]

idk if you have already made a post about this but could you please elaborate on your hc that gija has pots id love to hear more about it

ngl i was just gonna sprinkle the headcanon into my fic and let that speak for itself because i didn’t think anyone would care about it, but now that u asked…. (smiles beatifically) <3

first, i wanna note that i actually headcanon gija as having both pots and heds, and i’m fully basing this on my own experiences so i’m gonna talk about both conditions in a more rambly manner instead of going through a checklist of symptoms or smth like that. i’ll do my best to keep it somewhat organized though!! also i gotta put this thing under the cut because i ended up having. so much to say

starting with the most obvious: gija faints A Lot. like i didn’t crunch the numbers on this or anything but i feel reasonably confident claiming that he’s shown feeling faint or fully passing out more often than anyone else in the series. just off the top of my head, there’s chapters 16, 18, 41, 95/96, 143, 147 (and given how badly injured he is during the xing arc, i wouldn’t be surprised if he lost consciousness off-page too), 182… and obviously many of these instances occur when he’s injured/exhausted, but the others get hurt and push themselves too hard as well and they’re not fainting nearly as often.

the author’s note in ch 116 and the fanbook both point out that he’s not good at pacing himself and that he has a tendency to pass out, and the former also mentions that dragon warriors are often sickly (historical fantasy speak for disabled) as a result of their powers. also, on that note, both pots and heds can be caused by physical trauma, like let’s say, getting slashed by your deadbeat father’s dragon claws as an infant perhaps…. but let’s put a pin in that for now!

gija’s stamina is notably Bad, as jaeha points out in ch 95 (jaeha why are u paying such close attention to another man’s stamina? 🤔 anyway, gija’s also the first to fall ill in that chapter, which points to him having a weaker immune system), and gija himself says in ch 18 that he’s not especially strong, with the obvious exception of his dragon arm, and the thing is. he cares so so so much about being useful so admitting to something like that, especially so early in the series, really stuck out to me. his stats in the fanbook also support this. aside from his arm strength, all his other stats related to physical strength are average and lower than the other dragon warriors’ and hak’s. zeno’s partially an exception for obvious reasons but here are the stats for arm strength, leg strength, and stamina, respectively (the fanbook includes other fun stats too but those aren’t relevant rn): gija ∞/3/3; hak 5/5/5; jaeha 5/∞/4; sinha 4/4/4; zeno 1/2/∞. gija’s stats are actually closer to yona’s (2/3/3) and su-won’s (who is notably Canonically Disabled; 4/3/3).

the endnotes in vol 43 also mention that he has fairly small wrists which. is just so very heds-coded of him if i do say so myself. (side note no.1: and all of this is why i’ve been saying that after losing his dragon arm, gija should learn to use a knife!!! it’s a light weapon, he’s already used to close combat, AND it would be a chance to deliver on the “let’s train your left hand” line because while jaeha primarily uses throwing knives, he does appear to carry other types of knives too which means he knows how to use them!! kusanagi if u can hear me……)

let’s go back to the fainting for a bit, because i really want to focus on the moments in chapters 41 and 143 since those don’t have an overt trigger like, say, ch 147 where all of the dragon warriors faint from burning up too much energy, but i find them very interesting. in ch 41, gija’s the only one to pass out after taking the love potion, and he in general has a stronger reaction to it (like yeah gija blushes easily but he looks downright feverish after taking it), which to me points to the love potion triggering a flareup (which is kinda funny considering his comment in ch 16 about how his granny and the other villagers kept him from getting sick. put a pin in that as well btw). as for ch 143, yes he’s already injured at that point, but he literally stands up, exerts what should not be excessive amounts of energy by his own standards, and almost immediately gets dizzy and at the very least gets close to fainting (though i’m inclined to think he did actually faint considering how jaeha’s holding him up a few panels later). (side note no.2: if u pay close attention, the blocking in that scene implies that he stumbled back towards jaeha to lean on him before fainting. love is real <3)

also everyone should know by now that i have never and will never buy into the whole gija has/had a crush on yona interpretation (on account of the blatant homosexuality on display whenever he’s on page. and also the age gap. and also their interactions simply don’t read that way to me. he’s ride-or-die for her gbf style <3) so the jokes like the one in ch 52 about his heart hurting genuinely just read like tachycardia to me. i’m willing to accept that the dragon blood is a factor but. that’s just tachycardia. someone please make him sit down.

some other observations:

he’s the only one shown to get dizzy from tracking the other dragons (ch 26. which to be fair is partially jaeha’s fault, but jaeha’s also implied to be using the same ability to keep track of the other dragons and he isn’t affected).

in ch 155 his neck is still visibly bruised, while we don’t see any injuries on jaeha, even though they both sustained similar injuries from the same weapon at the same time, and delayed wound healing is common with eds.

this is more of a silly observation but in ch 19 he falls asleep sitting with his knees pulled up and all i can say is. so real so true.

he’s a total lightweight and a picky eater, which i get is supposed to portray how sheltered he was (though there’s no way there was no alcohol at those feasts he mentions…) but it could also be a result of intolerance to alcohol and certain foods that trigger flareups (it could also be a texture thing).

he looks incredibly exhausted for a portion of the hot springs chapter. like i know he’s being tormented by The Spider but he looks Unwell…. speaking of hot springs, hot baths/showers generally make pots worse but it depends on the person so gija enjoying hot springs doesn’t necessarily go against my headcanon. but i am jealous of him.

now back to those pins!! my interpretation is that gija probably started experiencing symptoms at a very young age, to the point where he wouldn’t really think to bring it up to his granny or anyone else because he wouldn’t think it was a big deal. also, lest we forget, gija doesn’t take his own wellbeing especially seriously, and he’s way more inclined to act like a dying dog when he’s not feeling well instead of drawing attention to himself and worrying or inconveniencing anyone. but it’s also possible that everyone in his village was aware of it, which would add an extra element to how much they dote on him; i’m just leaning more towards the former option because i think gija would be more aware of his limits if he had a gaggle of village elders constantly warning him not to overexert himself. and the “kept me from getting sick” line to me feels like it’s referring to acute illnesses, which, yeah i can totally buy that he didn’t get sick much in that sense, considering how dedicated everyone was to looking after him.

the final thing i wanna say is that i find his dragon arm to be such an effective metaphor for hypermobility because like. yeah he can do cool shit with it but it also impacts his health, which mirrors the sort of cool-party-trick/yeowch double-edged sword of hypermobility.

[duhitsitadori]

The Sun Burns Bright Blue (CHAPTER 2)

Synopsis: Based off of Homer’s The Iliad, and very (and I mean very) loosely Madeline Millers The Song of Achilles, this fic immerses you in the Homerian world in conjunction with Blue Lock. The story centers around Michael Kaiser and Alexis Ness, who play the role of Achilles and Patroclus. But other parts will focus on other events in the Iliad following characters such as Odysseus of Ithaca as Isagi Yoichi, Hector of Troy as Noel Noa, and more.

CHAPTER 2– God's Chosen Emperor

Tags + Tw (please read): Blue lock, The Iliad AU, Kainess, Patroclus!Alexis Ness, Achilles!Michael Kaiser, major VIOLENCE, death, insulting, mentions of abuse Chapter Summary: “The Exiled Prince” has a cold tone to it. But there’s nothing colder than being alone, scared, and coming face to face with Phthian royalty. Fandom: Blue Lock Section: Fanfics, 6/6/2025 A/N: Hello! I'm BACKKKKKKKK! Yipee, okay! Some very important notes here, so do consider while reading. 1. In traditional Greek myth, and in Miller's modern retelling, Patroclus is very young when he is exiled and sent to Phthia. However, for this bllk retelling, Patroclus is a little older– probably around 14 or 15 years old. Achilles is a bit younger than Patroclus, so Kaiser is about two years younger making him about 12 or 13. 2. In traditional Greek myth, many of the heroes are referred to as “Son of (Insert Fathers Name)”. For example, for Odysseus he may be referred to as “Son of Laertes”. Greeks also, at this time, did not really have last names. However, Alexis and Michael do. I use their first names interchangeably with their last names as they are used in the bllk manga. However, to keep the nature of the Greek reference, I use the honorifics of mentioning the father. For the reader's convenience, and also because I cannot refer to Alexis’ father as Menoetius, Alexis will also be referred to as “Son of Ness” by other characters. 3. At some parts of this chapter, you may think: damn. Why the HELL do these characters talk so proper and they’re like… idk 12-15? Just know I am using their merit as princes, and highly skilled warriors to justify the obscurity of some of their circumstances. I mean, cmon, Kaiser took out like what–– six police officers with a soccer ball at 16? Idk. That’s pretty #Achilles core to me.I try my best to conflate most of the authentic qualities of both Bluelock, and Greek mythology as best I can. Anyway, enjoy.

The boy happened to be a nobleman’s son.

As Ness expected, it would take no time to exile him from his own home– his title. It took no time; no thinking to put him on horseback with nothing at all but a guard who was surely given orders not to mutter a word in escorting him to Phthia.

But Ness was not stupid. This was a death sentence presenting itself clear as day. After all, the soldier was one he’d recognized in the lower ranks, and his father didn’t even bother to leave them with any food or extra protection.

He wants me to die. He thought.

Ness had believed despite his quirks that deep down his father still held onto a special sliver of hope. He recalled all of it: a quick affirming glance when Ness addressed peers, a familiar upturn on his father's aging bearded face when he struck his wooden sword– even an acknowledging hand on his small light-brown haired head in passing. Ness grew dizzy remembering the calloused rough pads of his fathers fingers running through each strand of gold on his head. He recollects the time he pretended he was asleep in the middle of the night after a long commencement in the palace, shutting his eyes tight in fear that he may receive a scolding for staying up listening to the grown-up conversations outside his bedroom door. He remembers telling himself to calm his breaths, because his father is one of the keenest observers in all of Greece, and could tell if even a baby rabbit was playing dead. He remembers, thinking he was dreaming it all– the gentle smile that visibly traced his father's lips even in the dark, and his full domineering eyes falling onto his only son's sleeping face. Ness is careful not to twitch, but he remembers not being able to help himself when he feels the tickling sensation of his father’s thumb on his forehead– the soft caress eliciting a groan from Ness’s throat, and a quiet grumble in attempts to cover up his conscious mind. And for the first time, Ness thinks he’s fooled his own father. In fact, he knows it, because he hears the man allow himself a breathy giggle while watching his son innocently squirm.

And like every son, Ness chooses to believe in the good of his father despite indifference. He confides welcomingly in those fleeting acknowledgments, shifting tones, and flickering glances to form them into what he eventually deduces as “hope”–– a dream that engulfs his imagination entirely. It was all bizarre to him, that even through exile, even through confronting his fathers wrath as the guards drag their prince out of his own home, he still somehow manages to believe in that all-consuming magic.

He wants me dead. He knows, he is no fool.

He thinks, after all, that it’d be an easier burden for a father to bear knowing that your son is already dead, and not on his way to die. Ness concludes this, or he tries, as his lip threatens to quiver. But the unmatched weight of the notion drags his tears down with it, and he sobs like he already is that dead son. He looks up to the sky, searching for a cloud to embrace his trembling body and dissipate his sins, hoping for anything at all; maybe even to forget.

The steed below the exiled prince began to slow, most likely from fatigue since they were travelling such a long distance. Ness wouldn’t even be surprised if this horse was meant to die too and they just happened to put him on it. Ness wouldn’t even complain, he wouldn’t even protest. “Die!” Ness screams, slamming his balled fists into his scrunched face. “Die, Die!” He chokes, his husky vocal chords halting any clarity in those clamorous notes. “Die!”

Ness chants, over and over again until he interrupts himself with a wail that rings through the quiet, enough to the horse's ears twitch below him. He doesn’t bother to quiet himself, even after failing to notice that both him and his guards' gallops have suddenly stopped. A final screaming cry releases itself again, and Ness throws himself forward onto the horse's neck to bury his face in its warm mane. He sinks into that position for what seems like an eternity.

He finally, after minutes upon minutes of sobbing, decides to pick his head up. The light of the afternoon pierces through his swollen eyes, and he squints to find the blurry picture of the guard staring back at him. Ness heaves, sneering at the guards infuriatingly expressionless face. “Well don’t stare if you aren’t going to say anything,” Ness barks at him in a scratched tone, yet the man still remains unmoved. A bubbling rage rises inside of Ness at the unreactive response, and he now takes full grasp as to why this is the ultimate punishment. Even after hours of another person sticking dutifully to his side, he wants nothing more than to erupt at the fact he is utterly alone. 

“You obedient dog!” He finishes.

But nevertheless, like a good knowledgeable prince Ness knows his people. Strict, stoic— unrelenting. And above all, obedient.

The guard blinks and clicks at Ness’ horse to keep moving. He turns back around, and as instructed, does not mutter a word.

—

“Son of Ness.” Old Kaiser’s voice boomed off the palace walls with startling pronunciation. The intimidating approach was no less expected from the rumored harsh king of Phthia.

The exiled prince tried to focus on the stone floor, tracing the crevices with his eyes. He swallowed, rocking his weight back from his heels to the point of his toes. His eyes darted going blurry as he tried to push an answer out of his trembling lips, but to no avail.

“Speak!” The king roared.

“Hah!” Ness jumped. He trailed, reciting princely monologues in his head to sort out the correct answer. “I-it is my pleasure to be here, King Kaiser. I–”

A deep bellowed laugh exits from the large ruler's mouth. Ness goes white, demanding himself not to take a step back despite the shiver that shoots up his back. “Pleasure? You are a murderer. You cannot fool me, boy.” And suddenly Ness wants to sprint towards the palace doors at the echo of his fathers words. He’s surely to be executed now. The silence grows thick, exacerbating Ness’ aching tears that threaten to fall. One thing about Phthia’s palace– he notes as soon as he enters, is that every room is spacious, dark, and appears desolate. In other words, there was nowhere to hide. The entire structure was a damn chopping block. He whimpers desperately at the exposure, attempting to swallow every urge to scream. He hopes that he doesn’t look like a swine the way his teeth are practically chattering loud enough to sound like clashing swords. He hopes he doesn’t look like he’s already dead, he hopes. He hopes and hopes.

But in an instant all of that light succumbs to the darkness of the King of Phthia’s meaty hands. The old tyrant grips the exiled prince’s face, firmly squishing the fat of his plump cheeks. Ness squeaks, flailing his tiny arms in reluctance to grab the man's barreled forearms. “Now listen here, you blood hungry swine,” he spits, the tepid wetness scattering all over Ness’ flushed face. “You will get a place to sleep. Food to eat. But you will fight for Phthia as long as you live your pathetic little life.” Ness wails, squirming like a feeble pest. He gets to live. The ruler's toothy sneer cuts right through Ness’ blurry vision before he throws Ness onto the ground. “You’ll die doing it.” he announces to the limp boy, in a matter-of-fact tone. Ness coughs, his body jerking at every hacking queue. The king storms off, his feet cold and sure in every step he takes. If his senses weren’t so keen, he thinks he could’ve mistaken those solid steps for his own fathers.

He barely captures the halting hand the King pulls up to halt the motions and pick up the frightened boy on the floor who they’d just witnessed take verbal assault. He doesn’t know where they might’ve taken him, and he doesn’t know where he’ll take himself next when he leaves the gravel floor of Phthia’s palace. He simply hisses through his teeth, holding a fist to his chest closest to where he could feel the reassuring pulse of his fast beating heart.

—

Ness couldn’t have predicted that there would be so many other boys at his side.

He also didn’t expect that he wouldn’t be half as miserable as he thought he would be. What the king said was true– he would get to go to sleep, and be fed. Ness learns quickly that this is all you need to survive, and conversely that it's not the only thing you need to live. In Opus, Ness found himself relying heavily on the nature of games to carry him through in-between conversations and bickering. Otherwise, he was prompted by his father or other advisors to speak to certain people– but in those cases many happened to be politicians or noblemen. The rowdiness of the boys was far too spontaneous for Ness’ liking, and this time Ness would have no one to guide him on the ways in which he would respond to someone asking him if he would rather get stabbed thirty times or get swallowed by a hydra. Nevertheless, it didn’t disqualify the fact that none of the boys played games. Perhaps it is in Phthia’s customs to prefer physical activities over tactical practices– at least Ness knows the latter choice is true for his home land. 

He duly noted of the one thing they would not shut up about: Michael. The name seemed to somehow manage to be in every ratty boy's mouth infiltrating the noisy dining corridors and shared sleeping chambers. It was heard at every corner, every second and murmured sentence; “Michael, where’s Michael?”, “We want to spar with Michael.”, “I heard Michael did this, so I’ll do that!”. Ness started believing that this “Michael” was just some figment of the young myrmidons imaginations. He posed to himself that maybe he was a god that came to visit, or something absurd like that.

But Ness never bothered to ask who “Michael” was. Because, whoever he was–– he never showed up whilst they were mindlessly chanting his name. He had his mind set on more important things, like one of the extra storage rooms where he would almost definitely find something of more intrigue than frivolous boy-chatter. After all, before he was an exile, he was a prince. He thought he should at least allow himself the grace of the material that he so enjoyed indulging in during his pre-exile days. After all, if he was going to allow himself to live instead of survive, he was going to do it well.

Clap.

Clap.

Even if, upon sneaking into that desolate room during meal hour, he hears four slow claps behind him. Ness freezes at the smack, the swift steps prancing gracefully forward to present its ominous self. He halts his shaky hands from shuffling through the crates of books, togas, and daggers, grabbing one of the small blades into his tightened fist.

Clap. Even if, to do that, it would mean having to kill another.

Not yet. Ness thought. He’s not close enough to strike with a dagger, he knows the distinct proximity of human footsteps all too well. A small chuckle leaves the approaching peering person's throat, halting itself in its tracks.

Clap. “Bravo,”

Ness’ breath hitches, flexing his shoulders in preparation to leave a quick strike and somehow slither back in with the throng of boys. Not yet.  “I mean, it’s no wonder that greedy old geezer of mine let you live.” The voice snickers. “The other boys don’t have nearly the amount of stealth you do to escape palace guards like that.” Not yet. The figure steps forward, a quickening pace alerting Ness’ senses. The exiled prince closes his eyes, readjusting his fingers as soon as he feels foreign warmth loom over his back.

Now!

His sturdy shoulders threw themselves over his pivoted foot as he raised the blade high above his head. He swears he can almost hear the all too familiar plunge of gushing flesh under his combatted touch resounding through the walls of his brain. His strength has never failed him, it was always a sure way to win. He was going to live, no matter the cost, no matter the malice he had to live with. But that second attempt was left to his vivid imagination.

“And they really don’t have anywhere near the amount of strength that you do.”

Ness’ eyes blow wide at the sight of a blonde boy towering over him. His piercing blue eyes held a superior conviction to them, a pair of eyes Ness undoubtedly thinks is going to be the last thing he sees. The constricing hold on Ness’ wrist, however, contrasts the face he observes before him. It is only what Ness could describe as a man's overwhelmingly grip. He traces his eyes down the body of his palace spy, he finds that he truly is nothing but a boy, just as he is himself. He meets his gaze again realizing that the blonde boy’s eyes never left Ness’ petrified face. Ness attempts to swing downwards in a few more measly attempts, but to no avail. The boy leans in, closing the gap between his pointed chin and Ness’ red ears. “Drop the dagger, and you live. Kay’?” he gravely whispers, the proximity of his hot breath instinctively causing Ness’ knuckles to relax and drop the rusted blade.

The boy hums at the clank of the metal hitting against the hard floor, and promptly lets go of Ness’ swelling wrist. “Now,” the boy tilts his head, matching Ness’ eye level. “Do tell me your name.” he flutters his eyelashes expectantly, slender hands on his limber hips. Ness’ eyes darted around the room for an exit, maybe even a chance to catch the blonde off guard. Instead, he finds a picture of a vibrant blue rose contrasting the darkness of the room sitting idly on the boy's neck, followed by a string of thorns down his left arm.

His stutter in thought would cost him. “T-Tch,” Ness purses his lips, mirroring the same head-tilt the boy taunts him with. “Spare the questions. Why did you follow me?”

“Spare the questions?” the blonde laughs. “You were the one that tried to stab me, you damned weakling.” The two stood staring at each other. Ness curled his joints, preparing for a fist fight to ultimately flee–– flee, not just from this room, but Phthia all together. The second option would be to, of course, attempt to kill the boy again and quietly make his way back to the dining hall. They’d find his body and assume he’s taken his own life. But that was an unlikely outcome considering his overwhelming strength. Some people get a second chance at life, but Ness? At this moment, he was given a second chance at death.

The blonde boy’s vision flickers down to the exiled prince’s reaction, his lips twitching into a smug smile. “None of the other boys would dare do this,” he says, stepping forward with an assured rhythm. Ness steps back, cowering as his back thumps against the wall behind him. The boy opens his mouth, letting his jaw drag for a second like he’d remembered something. “In fact, you know,” he points to the ceiling, swirling his fingers around in the air. “This room is strictly forbidden, even to me.”

Ness points his lips up at the boy, finding the little fight left in him. “So? Then why are you here? You know the rules.” He remarks with a lilt. The boy's eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing to the middle of his pale face. “Oh, I know the rules. It seems you do not, Son of Ness.”

“How–”

“You are lucky.” he spits, his eyes averting to the chunk of wall next to Ness’ shoulder. “You are lucky you are not dead or anywhere near beaten.”

Then Ness sees it, with the smallest help of light peeking through. The bruises all over his arms, his knees, his neck. Ness knows what marks of injury look like from combat– and these were no purple swellings from combat, but rather markings of lengthy, hard torture. “My name is Michael,” he says, a severe storm stirring inside his dark pupils. He bows, and Ness cringes at the cocky gesture.

“Michael Kaiser." he continues. Kaiser. This is no boy. This is the prince of Phthia–– Ness realizes, far too late.

“Alexis.” Ness says, though introductions didn’t seem to matter anyway. He was dead where he stood.

“Alexis,” Kaiser repeated with the tone of a suggestion, the ‘x’ rolling of his tongue like oil followed with the softened spill of the ‘s’. It was, oddly, gentle. Careful. Ness hated that tone, the tone that let him know he was now playing the mind game of cat-and-mouse. “I come here often too, you know. To feel alive, even if it’s just a little bit.”

This desolate room. This room, with molding bricks and a cool preserved air like the bottom of a grave. The abandoned items inside a century old wooden crate, and the small hole that granted the privilege of at least a sparse amount of light to navigate one's way through the darkness. “Didn’t you come here to feel alive too? Don’t you already feel dead?” Kaiser asked locking eyes with Ness, searching for any flicker of reciprocity. Ness scans the room, the cracks, the crevices, the utterly dark corner to the right. His eyes only returned to the one vital thing that made the whole room now beam with intense purpose: the blonde haired boy standing in front of him, awaiting his answer. He focuses again on his sharp face, fox-like eyes, the shape of his figure that matched the young heroes on the vases. And of course, that bright blue-rose that bloomed with contrasting color.

Kaiser clears his throat.“I mean, since you killed somebody and your father pronounced you an exile. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m sure the others know–”

“They don’t. I made sure of it.”

“Why?”

“Because I see you want to live too.” Ness’ pupils blow wide. He knows his name. His father. That he’s of royal blood. That he’s murdered someone with his own bare hands. Ness felt as bare as he did the first time he stepped into this hell-hole. There are no walls to hide behind in this palace, no space in which you are not subject to the eyes and ears of others. Patroclus thinks about the times when he was alone–– in the battle yard, in places he shouldn’t have been in the night, in absolute solitude. And yet, Michael happened to be lurking. Listening, knowing, watching. Ness couldn’t shake that fact: that he never noticed him even in the smallest of shadows and corners. But in some twisted way, Ness wanted to fall to his knees and grab Michael without ever letting go upon hearing those words.

Someone wanted to see him live.

“It would be more beneficial to kill me, Prince of Phthia.” Ness states, nails digging into his own palms. This was a test. He was sure of it. “Oh,” the Prince clicked his tongue, “no, no. I don’t want that. And neither do you, Alexis Ness.”

Ness scoffed. “Well, then why keep me alive. It’s more of a burden to you then not, no? You have plenty of boys clawing for at least a bit of your attention, I’ll have you know.” Michael rolls his eyes. “It must be bothersome.” Ness continues.

Kaiser snickers, “well don’t be so hasty to die now, you pig. I’m giving you a chance.”

Kaiser points, dead center to Ness’ chest. “You and I, Alexis,” he pronounces, his finger pointing back firmly to himself. “Have something in common. You see, I cannot leave Phthia, and neither can you. And for that matter, I don’t want to leave, and quite frankly–– you, Alexis Ness, have nowhere to go.”

“So?”

“So help me overtake my father. Together, you and I will take over Phthia.”

A lofty request if Ness has ever heard one. He couldn’t even begin to imagine: a whole army behind him and this stranger, giving orders to kill every one of their adversaries. Kaiser lifts his chin, a shadow peering over the ridges of his eyebrows. “Or would you rather die a mere myrmidon among many, Exiled Prince?” A life of grandiose. A life free of authoritative fathers and squealing boys. Maybe, if he got lucky, a life full of games he didn’t have to hide. To be stripped from titles; an exile, a prince–– no, none of those would latch onto him any longer.

“I could kill you now if–”

“I’ll do it.”

Michael smiles, smooth pink lips creasing with satisfaction. “I knew I made the right choice.” He turns his back to Ness, precise fingers reaching for the edge of the door. “Come, Alexis. You will be my therapon.”

The light flushing the darkness of the room penetrated Ness’ pupils all too quickly. He squints, slightly dizzy from the sudden change. His legs shake, feeling as though his knees might collapse as he takes one feeble step–– but luckily, the tall back of the Prince gives him a reassuring guide forward. —

© —@duhitsitadori DO NOT repost, copy, or translate any of my works. <-PREVIOUS CHAPTER ->NEXT CHAPTER

[summerdazed]

Operation Heartattack

word count: 1.5 nothing too triggering besides like bombs and gunfights

sort of first part

February 16, 19█

███, Iraq

J███ “F██” Valentine

Callsign: Cupid

He hated this. He absolutely hated being tossed around in the back of some military vehicle like a sack of potatoes. The worst part is he did not even have Nola, his beloved german shepherd and trusted battle buddy who he had gotten sometime after his second tour when her original handler had died. Truthfully, he was not suppose to end up with her but she had taken to him and they had been together ever since. She was bombproof. Quite literally as she had been blown up before which was one of the factors that had caused Cupid to leave Nola behind at the safe house, much to her displeasure. Oh well. At least she could terrorize the poor soldiers left behind as well.

A rough bump in the road brought Cupid back to reality and out of his thoughts. It was a simple mission really. Get in and get out. Cripple the heart of the operation causing the smaller branches to slowly die off. Not really something Cupid wanted to be doing if he was being honest with himself. Since the incident he thought that his days in the military was over. He was so very content with his days in the military being over. But no, of course he couldn’t be out and happy. He just had to be pulled back into this. They didn’t need a medic. They didn’t need a translator. They didn’t need him period but here he was.

At least he could steal glances his crush team member. Frank Woods had intrigued him greatly. So much so he had to remind himself it was rude to stare and think about those big muscular arms wrapping around him and— No! He couldn’t get distracted by ogling the man. Coworkers were a big no no. Something he had been reminding himself recently. Besides, he was a professional. He couldn’t think about these things when lives were at stake. Though, perhaps he could indulge himself a bit as it especially helped lessen his anxiety around being back in the field. All he could hope was things went well.

——

It was kind of like riding a bike again as Cupid went through the motions of carefully infiltrating the base. He was sort of pleased to know that he was still an excellent marksman but that was probably due more to extensively hunting than his time in the military. Something just felt off though. Like there was something somewhat ominous in the air. As they split off the feeling only got worse.

He was paired with this Bones guy. Unfortunately, he didn’t get paired with Woods but that was probably for the best. Though a tiny part of him mourned he couldn’t see his new fascination in action. This Jones guy though, Cupid just thought he was bad news. Something about the way he walked and talked just rubbed him wrong. Always had since the first debriefing. Bones was too cocky and just a know it all. Not in a good way either. Cupid could admit the man was good at his job. They took out their targets easily as they made their way into the nearest building.

“I think we should split, Cupid. Ya know clear the building more quickly.”

Cupid tried not to look too put off as he responded. He absolutely did not want his eyes off Bones. Sometime was up. He felt it in his gut. “I really do not think it would be the best idea to be separated right now. We should stay together to properly cover each other.”

His answer obviously displeased the other man to an extent. He could just see it on the face of Bones as he got a scowl. “Lighten up, kid. It’s not like you’re going to get blown to bits again.”

Cupid’s blood ran cold at the statement. Bones should NOT have known that about him. Though, he found it in himself to give a half ass breathy laugh. “You are right. Let us split up.”

Cupid tried to not high tail it out of there. He needed to get to the others. Something just was not right here and he didn’t feel like using the radio would be a smart decision. Truly the thought of a rat on the team was not something that he wanted to think about but at this point they needed to quickly complete their task and exfil immediately.

Somewhat carefully, Cupid took out a few guards with a couple well placed shots as he moved onto the next building over. He scurried into the building and hid behind the tail of a plane to avoid the beam of a flashlight. A A-4M Skyhawk, he noticed. None should have been circulation for the United States as production had ended a few years earlier but here was one either stolen or sold.

An annoyed huff and a bullet to the skull later, he was able to move further into the hanger. More stolen aircrafts of all types from all over. Granted, he wasn’t a pilot like one of his dear friends and could only name a few planes, but he did have a license to fly which he rarely used. It would appear that this place was a lot more important than their intel had originally reported.

Two more buildings until he would get to Frank’s team. Surely the man would listen to him about his suspicions, right?

He almost was relieved for a moment until his radio crackled to life and he heard the voice of the last possible man he wanted to at the moment. Bones. That fucking snake.

“Sorry boys, but I’m gonna have to cut this mission a bit short. Some big fish are real interested in this firepower and I fully intend to capitalize on this venture. Feel free to surrender to avoid a firefight or try to make it out alive. I guarantee you won’t.”

Before the man was even finished speaking, Cupid made the decision to haul ass to the rest of the team so that they could help fight it out together. There was way too many people to get out individually. Dodging bullets and taking down guards, he made it right in sight to the others. However, there was one thing that blocked his path.

To anyone else it would have been nothing a simple military vehicle. Really they were all over the Middle East. To Cupid, however, it opened up a nasty and barely healed wound. He felt like his bones were made of lead and he was being held underneath the iciest of waters. Time seemed to stop. So much so that he did not even notice a fuel tank had been struck until he heard an ear piecing whistle before everything went white for a moment. His vision came back first as he tried to get his breathing under control, scrambling to his knees as he took in deep breaths. Next his ears started to ring. Apparently the blast had knocked him to the ground. Before he could get up though, he was hauled to his feet and practically dragged as he was shoved into the nearest vehicle.

His heart fluttered a bit even if his wished it didn’t as Woods was the one that had scooped him up. It was probably a good thing his ears were still ringing because in his dazed state he might have said something stupid. The last thing he wanted to do was seem stupid to Woods.

Between getting his hearing back and shooting down anyone that stood in their way of getting the hell out of there, the rest of the mission was sort of a blur to Cupid. The next thing that was more clear to him was being in a helicopter tending to everyone’s wounds.

With steady hands, he cleaned a gash on Frank’s arm almost mindlessly. After all, he’d done it a million and one times. The repetitiveness of the movements allowed him a nice look at the man’s defined arms. He wondered what it would be like to be crushed—

“I don’t need this, kid. It’s just a scratch.”

Cupid cracked a small grin at Frank’s comment. “A little preventative measures never hurts. After all, you helped him a lot but getting me out of there. Sorry for freezing.”

Woods shrugged it off. “It was nothing. We’re all brothers here except for that fucking snake Bones. I’ll kill em.” He grumbled as he lit a cigarette. “You’ve got a hell of a steady hand.”

Cupid bit back his grin as he finished off the bandage. “Why thank you. I certainly try.” He cut the conversation a bit short at that for a few reasons. One, if he wasn’t more drained he would have definitely been aroused. The last place he needed a hard on was a squeezed into a helicopter with a few other men. And two, he was trying and failing not to blush like a school girl. He just hoped Woods didn’t notice his slightly red cheeks. Frank definitely did.

Hello friends! I decided to make this more focused on learning more about Cupid but I promise in the next one they’ll interact a bit more. Feel free to leave asks or suggestions because I love to talk and I very much appreciate feedback 🫶

Taglist: @fw-priyanshu

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghost's MBTI Type

Quick Run Down: The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) personality typing device based on Carl Jung's theory of psychological types. It sorts people into 16 different personality types based on four pairs of opposite traits: Extraversion (E) vs. Introversion (I), Sensing (S) vs. Intuition (N), Thinking (T) vs. Feeling (F), & Judging (J) vs. Perceiving (P)

Ghost is ISTJ

Introversion, Sensing, Thinking, Judging

(Fair warning, most of this is ripped straight from mbti sites, w/ minor wording edits from me)

Core Characteristics:

Dependable and Responsible: ISTJs are known for their reliability and strong sense of duty. They take their responsibilities seriously and are committed to following through on their promises.

Detail-Oriented: They have a keen eye for details and are thorough in their work, ensuring accuracy and precision in their tasks.

Practical and Realistic: ISTJs prefer practical solutions and realistic approaches to problems. They focus on what is achievable and avoid getting caught up in abstract theories.

Organized and Structured: They value order and structure, often planning things meticulously and appreciating a well-organized environment.

Reserved and Private: ISTJs are typically reserved and may keep their feelings and thoughts private, focusing more on factual and practical matters than on expressing emotions.

Loyal and Committed: They are dedicated and loyal to their commitments and relationships, valuing long-term stability and trustworthiness.

In Relationships:

Pros:

Trustworthy: ISTJs are consistent and dependable, providing a stable foundation in the relationship. You can count on them to be there when needed.

Practical: They offer practical solutions and support in tangible ways. Their approach to problem-solving is grounded in realism and effectiveness.

Organized: Their organizational skills can help manage the day-to-day aspects of the relationship, ensuring things run smoothly and efficiently.

Loyal: ISTJs are dedicated partners who value long-term commitment. Their loyalty fosters a strong sense of security and trust in the relationship.

Cons:

Reserved and Distant: Their reserved nature may lead to emotional distance, making it challenging to connect on a deeper emotional level or to openly discuss feelings.

Resistance to Change: ISTJs may be resistant to change and new ideas, preferring to stick with established routines and methods. This rigidity can cause friction if their partner is more adaptable.

Overly Critical: They might become frustrated with what they see as inconsistency or disorganization, which can lead to their partner feeling nitpicked and criticized.

Difficulty with Emotional Expression: ISTJs can have a hard time expressing their emotions with sincerity and often use nonverbal ways to show care instead.

Challenges with Spontaneity: Their preference for planning and structure can clash with a partner who values spontaneity and flexibility, potentially leading to conflict over lifestyle differences.

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