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myfictionaldreams · 9 months

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Everyone Is Breakable // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, polyamory, threesome (F/M/M), angst, fluff, anxiety, death scare, Bucky goes missing, feelings realised, kissing, oral (F & M receiving), handjob, gay sex, vagina sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, size difference, sir kink, creampie, begging, edging, everyone has sex together (finally), not beta read

Words: 7.2k

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Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes were invincible.

Well, they were in your opinion anyway.

For the years that you’d been dating the two of them, they had done feats that were seen to be impossible to the normal person. But then again, they weren’t exactly normal.

There were secrets and rumours throughout Brooklyn that helped to create notorious reputations for the Rogers Mafia’s boss and Deputy that left people scared and yet curious at the same time. The main rumour that was derived from the truth was that Steve and Bucky had been involved in barbaric and ruthless experiments that altered their DNA’s to become the ultimate weapons. Stronger, faster, agility and stamina were all affected and had the enemies running in fear with the inhuman feats that could be achieved. Whenever the two of them were confronted and questioned, the men simply shrug their broad shoulders and smirked arrogantly at the opposer.

The rumours and intimidation only increased with the looming fear of Bucky’s unique metal arm that was made from the world’s strongest metal and liked to be his first weapon used where threats were involved. The enemies were quick to retreat when his leather glove was removed and his fingers clenched into a fist.

Their reputation was not the only reason why you believed them to be invincible but also because as of yet, there had never been a reason to be remotely frightened for their safety. Aside from the swaggering confidence they lived and breathed on a daily basis, other than the busted knuckles from the punishments delivered to the people who deserved it, they had never been injured, not even a black eye or busted nose. Nothing.

They were both so highly trained from their time in the military that they were able to hold their own more significantly than the other people in the same line of work as them.

In the past, there had been injuries and near-death experiences by both Steve and Bucky, before, during and after the military and enough to leave daunting silver scars from stab wounds, gunshots or injuries from other weapons. Especially Bucky and losing his arm during his capture within Hydra, the thick scars that encompassed the area between his shoulder and metal joining, he could hardly even discuss the brutal events that led to his arm injury, not without falling into a headspace that left him worried for everyone's wellbeing but again, that was because of Hydra and the fucked up experiments they performed on him.

Regardless of this, the rest of the events of near-death experiences would have left any normal person to lose their life, but not Steve and Bucky. They always bounced back, leaving you and your relationship feeling secure, safe and never-ending.

One day, one of them was not safe, and life was threatened so you didn’t know if they were alive or dead.

It was supposed to be a simple visit for Bucky, so simple in fact that he had decided to go by himself, leaving his bodyguard Natasha behind to look after Steve as he remained behind at the office. This was where you also remained with your guard Sam, sitting at the oak table, large enough to sit 10 people and usually reserved for important meetings but today had papers and laptops lazily scattered across as orders were processed. Unphased and unbothered, Bucky left with a quick wave and kiss on the cheek for you as he visited a client unaffectionately nicknamed Ross the Coward, for some undelivered money.

From your right, Steve watched Bucky closely as he left, fingers drumming on the surface of the table as he contemplated letting Bucky go by himself but the second in command was all smiles and confidence as he left to the meeting point. As soon as the office door closed, you were swift with unlocking your phone and clicking on the ‘find my friends’ app, watching the blue dot that represented Bucky’s location closely, a habit that everyone within the gang seemed to do to follow each other's locations and last whereabouts if anything were to go wrong.

From the corner of your eye, Steve also monitored the screen as well whilst continuing with the monotonous choirs of running a mafia gang by responding to queries and emails. It had been a long day for all of you, the type of boring work that had your eyelids heavy and body drained without so much as lifting a finger. Bucky had been almost bouncing off of the walls with boredom and when the opportunity to meet with Ross was discussed, he almost ran from the room in eagerness.

“He’s arrived”, you audibly confirmed to the group as Bucky’s dot slowed to a halt in a back alley somewhere in Brooklyn. Steve physically shuffled closer, his chair creaking under his heavy muscles as his arm slide around your back and rested against your hip, so he could move closer and watch the phone for a couple of minutes over your shoulder but soon became preoccupied by the bare skin exposed in front of him. You knew he was trying to distract you from obsessively watching Bucky’s dot as his lips danced across your sensitive skin, the fine hairs on your arms standing on end as a shiver brushed over your body as he reached behind your ear.

Your eyes closed to concentrate on the delicate touches of his full lips and the light scratch of his stubble but the pleasured moan that was teasing to escape on the tip of your tongue was soon replaced by a frustrated groan as Steve’s phone began to vibrate. The blonde gave an apologetic peck on your shoulder before returning his body to the work he was doing and your eyes continued to momentarily glance at Bucky’s location.

Half an hour passed and Bucky’s location hadn’t shifted, even by a single step the entire time. An unsettled heaviness rested in your stomach, but you tried to shake it off, Bucky was fine, it was only 30 minutes. However, those minutes ticked by and turned into an hour, by which point you were anxiously chewing on the skin surrounding your thumbnail which caught the eye of Steve.

Hanging up the phone, he turned his chair back towards you, knees knocking into yours as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist to ease the thumb from your mouth, “what is it?”

Nodding your head towards your phone you explained, “Bucky’s dot hasn’t moved in over an hour”.

Steve’s crystal blue eyes snapped to the phone at a sickening speed, the grip on your hand tightening by the slightest amount of force, not enough to hurt but enough to show his worries. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice low as leaned closer to the phone, studying the location.

“Yes, I’m sure”, you confirmed, trying to ignore the way your throat felt as if it was closing as you noticed Sam and Natasha now taking note of the situation as well. “It’s not moved at all, not even to show him pacing, I’ve used the app enough to know that it moves as you’re walking”.

Steve’s jaw clenched beneath his beard as lines formed between his eyebrows as they furrowed trying to decide the next steps. Releasing your hands, he turned towards Natasha, opening his mouth to order her to go to the location and see what was happening but the red-haired woman was already standing from her chair, shrugging on his leather jacket and confidently strutting towards the door, “Already on it, Boss”.

Steve tried to remain calm, for your sake anyway but you could tell but the ever so slight twitch of his hand that now rested on your exposed thigh, that he was unnerved by the situation. Sam had also tried to help your nerve by distracting you by making you laugh which worked for a whole minute before you returned to wringing your fingers in your lap, a movement that you usually did when nervous. “It’ll be ok Boss Lady, Bucky’s a big boy, he’ll be ok”.

Even with the heavy weight of Steve’s hand, your leg couldn’t keep still as you had the overwhelming urge to bounce your knee up and down to try and release some pent-up energy. Watching the phone closely, the dot that represented Natasha approached Bucky’s location and only then did his dot begins to move before Steve’s phone rang with Natasha's face and name appearing on the screen.

“He’s not here, his phone was in a trash can”, Natasha informed as Steve placed the phone on speaker so you could all hear.

You were out of your seat before either Steve or Sam. However, just as swiftly as you’d made it to your feet, a rough hand was just as quick to grasp your wrist in a gentle but firm hold, halting your plan to rush to the door. Frowning with a glare, you turned to look at Steve as he stood, not releasing your wrist. The expression on his face had your glare faltering as he looked at you in the way that you liked to call ‘Work Steve’. Jaw clenched and set, lines etched around his eyes with sternness and lips thinned into a tight line.

“You’re staying here”, Steve demanded without leaving any time to argue. No laughter or love in his voice like he usually reserved for when he spoke to you. There was only a strict command that was not meant to be argued against but you were simply not in the mood to sit around waiting for news, feeling unhelpful.

“Absolutely not, I’m coming with you”, your tone attempted to sound as stern as his but your voice wavered with the increasingly nauseating sensation blooming in your stomach.

Steve finally dropped your wrist but that was only because he had forced his chair back and was walking over to his desk at the furthest away point in the room, shoulders broad and muscles straining beneath the tight white shirt as he began to strap his guns to multiple locations across his body. As you watched Steve dismiss you without a single word, your hands began to shake with the adrenaline pounding through your body, and taking lesson than a second to decide between dealing with his wrath or continuing with your plan to help find where Bucky had gone.

You were halfway across the room before Steve suddenly shouted, “Sam!”, without even looking over his shoulders, his enhanced hearing meaning that he heard your footsteps rushing across the room. Your friend and bodyguard stepped into your line of sight at Steve’s command, his hands raised, palms facing you in an apologetic stance.

“Come on Sweetheart, let’s go back to our seat, I’ll get you a coffee or something-”. Without waiting for him to finish the sentence, you efficiently ducked under his arm and continued on your journey.

“I’m not waiting here, neither of you can stop me”. This was very much untrue as Sam’s arm circled your waist and easily trapped your arms to your side in the process as he overpowered you easily. “Sam, get off me!”

“I’m sorry, but orders are orders”, Sam to his credit, did sound apologetic as he held you firmly to his chest. This didn’t stop you from trying to wiggle your way out of his arms, even when it began to hurt with the amount of force you were putting into it, especially as Steve walked in front of you, now wearing his jacket to hide the multiple weapons he had strapped to his shirt.

“Steve please don’t go without me, I want to help! I need to help find him, please let me come with you!”

Your boyfriend had the decency to at least soften his eyes as he gripped your jaw firmly to keep you from moving and hold your attention. His voice was low and steady as he addressed you, his head dipped to try and hold your eye contact. “You will stay here, safe with Sam. I will go and find Bucky and I’m taking everyone with me to search for him and if we find-”. Steve’s confidence faltered enough that he had to shake his head to try and compose himself, returning to the same stern expression. “We will find him, I promise”. With that, he lowered his lips down to gently kiss your temple, breathing in the comforting scents of shampoo, before turning away.

A thousand thoughts were spirling through your mind as Steve turned away from you. Bucky was missing and without his phone. He could be hurt… or worse than hurt and now you had to stand there and watch as Steve went to the same location, leaving you behind to do nothing.

You began to fight harder against Sam’s hold, not caring that it might bruise your arms as you thrashed and twisted your body in an attempt to get free, needing to be there, hating the thought of waiting around helplessly. “Steve!” you shouted enough that it echoed around the room, please don’t leave me here!”

Your boyfriend didn’t acknowledge your pleas as he continued towards the door, shoulders hunched and heavy with worry and the need for vengeance seething through his boiling blood. Lifting his hand to turn the door handle, he was shocked as it twisted before he could even touch it, his hand instinctively reaching for the gun clasped to the holster on his belt as the door opened with a burst.

A dishevelled Bucky rushed into the room having heard your shouts from the end of the corridor, his chest rising and falling with hurried breaths, his jacked was ripped revealing his crisp white shirt to be stained with deep red blood that also crusted over the knuckles on both of his hands. “What’s going on?” he demanded, eyes darting wide and vividly blue as he took in the scene before him of Sam holding you back as tears had begun to flow down your cheeks.

“Bucky!” you screamed in relief, heavily tugging yourself out of Sam’s hold which loosened enough that you fell forward, stumbling slightly before brushing past Steve and into the arms of Bucky who was still confused as to what was going on. Your trembling hands wrapped around your boyfriend's neck as you cried into his shoulders, heart thumping hard in your chest as you felt his arms hug you close.” You’re ok! Thank god you’re ok”.

“What’s wrong? What is it? What the fuck is happening in here?” Bucky frantically asked in confusion, attempting to pull back from the bone-crushing hug so that he could inspect your face but you continued to hold onto him tight, scared that if you let go, he might disappear. When you didn’t answer, his eyes wandered to Steve and then Sam before looking back to his boss and best friend who finally stepped closer.

The mafia boss's eyes were unblinking as he did his own visual assessment, searching Bucky from head to toe and back up again and lingering on the red patches of his shirt. “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance? Where have you been?” Steve asked, one worst stumbling into another as placed a trembling hand on Bucky’s shoulder, just to touch him and make sure that he was here and real.

Bucky continued to look confused between Steve and the top of your head from where you still clung to his chest. “Ye-yeah, I’m fine, what’s happened?” Bucky answered more firmly this time.

Taking a deep breath and smelling Bucky to try and ground yourself, noting the way the iron scent overwhelmed his expensive cologne. Trying to compose yourself, you quickly stepped back, releasing your hold on his neck to wipe the wetness on your cheeks from the tears that slowly came to a stop as you truly realised he was ok. As you backed up, you bumped into Steve’s chest and instinctively reached behind for his other hand that was hanging at his side and squeezed it, a silent conversation that was needed between the two as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand.

His other hand remained on Bucky’s shoulder, you could see that he was gripping the man firmly, not wanting to let go as he explained what had happened. “We thought you were missing, I mean - you were missing. The location of your phone hadn’t moved for an hour and when Natasha went to investigate she found it in a trash can. We thought something had happened to you”.

Bucky nodded slowly, processing the information as his eyes flicked between you and Steve. “A trash can? Those assholes…” Bucky muttered under his breath before he clarified what had happened. “Ross the Coward lives up to his nickname as he hired a team of security. They thought they had me cornered at one point but it was easy work to dispose of them but one of the little pricks stole my phone. Probably to stop me from calling for back up but I don’t need backup”, he shrugged confidently. “It’s sorted, their bodies won’t be found it just took some time to clean up the mess before I drove straight here”.

Steve’s chest relaxed against your back as he released a sigh, the tension easing from his body as he needed to clarify one more thing. “So the blood… it’s not yours?” he asked, nodding to the specks of blood on his shirt.

Bucky gave an arrogant, deadpan look. “Come on, do you have such little faith in me?” he pinched the shirt to emphasise, “all their blood, no injuries except a couple of split knuckles but even they are mostly healed”. Lifting his warm hand he wiggled his fingers and proved that there were no lingering cuts, only pink lines left breath all of the dried blood.

When neither you nor Steve responded as you processed the news and that he was ok and not dead in some hidden alleyway, Bucky had his own questions. “So what was all the shouting about? Why did Doll look like she was about to beat up ol’ Sammy boy over there?”

“Steve tried to be heroic and make me stay behind whilst he searched for you, even though it would have been better to have more people searching for you. I wasn’t going to just sit here and wait for everyone to come back”, you explained whilst still squeezing Steve’s hand.

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly before he tried to compose himself by straightening his spine, shoulders rolling back as he addressed Steve. “Oh? So you were going to come and save me? My wonderful knight in shining armour”, Bucky teased with a smirk, taking a towering step closer as you moved gently out of the way, sensing that the two men needed a moment.

Steve’s face was stoic and serious as he simply whispered, “Yes, you know I would”.

Bucky hummed, head tilting to look at you, contemplating for a second, opening his mouth with the plan to continue the flirtatious teasing but the words were lost in thought as Steve’s hand that you’d been holding lifted to cup Bucky’s cheek. He forced Bucky to look at him, his thumb pad stroking across the stubble covering his cheek, in an intimate way that had a warm feeling spreading through your heart.

Steve’s eyes were darting between Bucky’s, then continued on their own journey across the rest of his face, lingering for a second too long on his friend's plump lips as he needed to clarify one more time, “Are you sure you’re ok Buck?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Stevie”, Bucky confirmed, his voice barely audible with how softly he responded, no longer teasing or sarcastic.

“Good”, Steve trailed off for a moment, eyes watching his thumbs exploration across Bucky’s cheek. Your heart was pounding as you watched the interaction, the sincerity on the mafia boss’ face as he struggled with his emotions. “I thought you were hurt, I thought-”, he wasn’t able to finish his sentence as he took the final step closer, using the hand on Bucky’s face to pull him closer so that he could kiss his forehead tenderly and wrapping his arm around his shoulders in a tight hug, releasing a deep breath.

Your cheeks ached with how widely you smiled, your hands grasping together as you rocked on your feet, finding the moment endearing and intimate and clearly needed between the two of them. Over Steve’s shoulder, you caught Sam’s eye as he gave you a little wave before making a swift and quiet exit through the door, giving the three of you some much-needed time alone and so that he could call Natasha and give her an update.

Returning your eyes to Steve and Bucky, they were just relaxing their holds on one another but only so that they could gaze into each other's eyes one more. Steve finally took closed those last inches, making a decision he’d wanted to do for a while but was frightened of the dynamics shifting between them but those minutes of thinking Bucky was hurt, he wouldn’t waste another minute again.

Both seemed to relax and feel whole all at once as Steve tilted his head and kiss Bucky’s lips. Gently, their lips caressed together, taking a second just to taste one another, feel another pair of lips that weren’t yours, both thinking it would feel strange to kiss their best friend but it felt right like they were meant to be.

Biting your lip to hold back the gleeful gasp, you watched in wonder as your boyfriends became more heated, heads tilting and hands grasping onto each other's shirts, crinkling the material as their desperation increased to try and feel more of one another. You watched with increasing fascination and a powerful wave of arousal in your core that had your cunt pulsing with need but this wasn’t about you, it was about Steve and Bucky. The two had been more intimate over the last couple of months but neither made any move to take that step, even with your meddling and interfering so it was a relief to finally see them snap and be together.

Steve pulled back first but only as he grasped Bucky’s bottom lip between his lip, tugging on it until it snapped back to place with a pop. The two men rested their foreheads together, still sharing breaths with how close their faces were. “Don’t ever do something to scare me like that again, Buck”, Steve demanded softly under his breath.

“Yes, Boss”, Bucky quipped before leaning in again for a calmer, softer kiss.

For a moment, you contemplated leaving them to explore one another and have the alone time they both desperately needed but Steve seemed to sense your step towards the door as he released his grip on Bucky’s jaw to point towards you and then crooking his index finger in a ‘come here’ gesture. When he couldn’t hear you make your approach, he pulled away from the brunette with glassy eyes and puffy lips from the kissing as he tilted his head in your direction. “Room for one more, Baby”.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, not making any effort to join the two, “are you sure? You two look like you need some alone time and having enough time without me-”.

“Oh get over here already”, Bucky joked, with his signature chirpy smile on his handsome face, his dimples deepening as he reached over to you, taking your hand and pulling you closer.

The smile on your own face only stretched as you were pulled flush again Bucky’s chest as Steve moved around the man to his back, looking at you over Bucky’s shoulder with a flirty eyebrow raised before he was continuing his exploration of Bucky by kissing along his neck.

Grasping onto Bucky’s ripped jacket, you reached up on your tip toes and your lips finally stroked against Bucky’s. The two of you moaned, you even more so at tasting the hints of Steve on your boyfriend's lips, your tongue instantly easing out to taste more of him which Bucky was more than happy to open his mouth and accept the invasion.

Your fingers shook slightly with how firmly you were holding onto Bucky, the relief hitting you all over again that he was ok and really safe between you and Steve. You wanted to taste all of Bucky, needed to feel all of his body and even though you were used to being the centre of attention concerning the intimate moments between the three of you, at that moment, you and Steve needed Bucky to be looked after and praised.

So as Steve continued to tease Bucky’s throat, nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh just below his ear, your hands loosened their grip but only so that the material could be pushed over his shoulders and allowed to be dropped to the floor. Your nibble fingers rushed to start unbuttoning his bloodied shirts but due to the emotions and adrenaline, it was a difficult and slow job so Steve took a handful of either side of the shirt and pulled, ripping the buttons easily and the material opening so that it too could be pushed over his shoulders and onto the floor, the buttons dropping and scattering all over the floor.

Not a single word was said at the action, other than a deep groan from Bucky as your nails scratched down his torso, feeling the bare, hot flesh beneath, the muscles tensing under your touch. Pulling back from the kiss, you desperately sucked in the air but only for a second as you left open-mouth kisses down his chest, feeling the light sprinkling of dark brunette hair that covered his chest, covering the previously mentioned scars from past injuries.

With his lips now free, Bucky had the freedom to tip his head back and to the side, giving Steve more room to tease and suck purple marks between his throat and shoulder, earning more desperate moans from the man.

Reaching around Bucky, you grasped onto Steve’s hands and pulled them around his front, helping the man to know where to touch the other, knowing that even though they had seen you fuck both of them, it was different having to do it themselves. Steve pulled back from dominating Bucky’s neck to cast his lust-filled eyes on you, smirking as he followed your lead as you moved Steve’s hands over Bucky’s abs and lower still until they landed on top of his belt.

Just before undoing it, Steve moved his lips to Bucky’s ear lobe, nipping with his sharp teeth before asking, “What do you say Bucky? Do you want this?”

Steve needed to hear him say it, that he wanted both yours and his touch. He was thankfully answered with a deep, aroused groan as Bucky huskily grunted, “fuck yes, don’t you dare stop”.

You and Steve shared an equally relieved grin before you dropped to your knees as the mafia boss continued to skillfully undo Bucky’s belt, clasp and zipper. This was where you took over, pushing the material over his firm arse until his trousers rested midthigh and you were eye level with his boxers-covered cock that was straining beneath the material.

“My favourite sight”, Bucky complimented, looking down at you and resting his hand on the back of your head as you smiled deviously up at him with wide eyes. With your hands resting on his toned, hairy thighs, you left the next step to Steve who thankfully continued undressing Bucky as he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, letting them join his trousers.

Now you were staring at the beautiful sight of Bucky’s thick, red cock that was already leaking beads of precum causing the tip to glisten. Glancing back up at Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, you raised an eyebrow to notify them that he should have the first touch.

With one large hand resting on Bucky’s abs, Steve’s other hand lowered and wrapped around the middle of Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s hips instantly thrust forward at the touch, his mouth dropping open as he looked at where he was being touched by his best friend, feeling the difference between having your smaller, softer hand and Steve’s big rough hand, deciding then and there that both were perfect.

SteveBucky'sd Bucky's cock a few times, spreading the precum and just trying to get used to touching another man's cock, noting the pressure he enjoyed and areas to give every attention to. Then, Steve held the base of it so that he stayed still and proud standing for you to inch forward and lick the tip.

“Fuck, both of you feel so good”. Bucky praised as he watched you as took more of his cock into your mouth Steve continued to hold it for you to suck as he subtly thrust his own clothed cock into Bucky’s back.

You thoroughly worshipped Bucky, loving the feeling for that moment of being in control with Steve, having Bucky between the two of you, moaning and losing his cool as you both pleasured him. His cock was salty and perfect as it lay heavy against your tongue as you attempted to take more of it into your mouth until it stroked the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water slightly.

You were so thoroughly aroused by the sight of Bucky rosy-cheeked and looking at you in awe with Steve still teasing him over his shoulder. Your thighs clenched closed, needing to feel some relief but nothing was what you needed so pulling off the tip of the cock with an audible pop, you nuzzled into his thigh with wide, hopeful eyes as you asked, “Please may I touch myself, sir?”

Bucky’s hand cradled against your cheek, thumb playing with your bottom lip that was already puffy from the blowjob you were giving. “Oh darlin’, you can do whatever you want when you’re looking so pretty like that for me”.

You grinned in relief up at him, turning to kiss his palm before straightening your stance on your knees once more but spread your legs, giving yourself room to drop a hand from his thigh to beneath your dress, pulling up the material until it bunched at your waist. You sighed in relief as you began to pleasure Bucky with your mouth once more but now your fingers could circle your clit over your soaked underwear.

“Doesn’t our girl look good for us, on her knees like that”, Steve joined the praises for you as he began to tweak one of Bucky’s nipples, causing the man to thrust deeper into your throat.

Bucky turned his head to make out with Steve over his shoulder, the two of them groaning as their tongues brushed together, tasting one another as you tasted Bucky’s cock. However, eventually, as Bucky’s cock began to throb harder in your mouth, did he ease your face away from him with a curse under his breath. “Shit, if you keep that up I’m going to cum already and I think… I think I want more, need to feel more”, he stated with a sense of uncertainty in his eyes with what it was exactly that he was asking.

You tried to decipher what it was that Bucky was asking as you asked him, “What do you say, Buckaroo? Think you can take Steve’s fingers better than I can? Is that what you want?” The throaty groan that Bucky released as he closed his eyes and cock visibly throbbed with more precum dripping from the end was answer enough before he nodded his head.

“Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes Buck and help baby girl onto the table”. Bucky’s eyes lit up as he caught onto Steve’s idea but you weren’t sure why you needed to be on the table for Bucky to be fingers but either way, you accepted Bucky's helping hand to stand.

Bucky kicked off his shoes and remaining clothes, leaving him beautiful and naked. Then he helped you over to the edge of the table, hands resting on your hips to lift you up and onto it, making sure your dress was still clumped around your waist. With a simple snap of his metal fingers, the flimsy material of your lace underwear was destroyed and floating to the floor as he bent over, licking his lips with hunger devouring his eyes as witnessed your soaked pussy.

Without wasting another second his tongue was stroking between your pussy lips, sucking and licking your juices before circling your throbbing clit in slow, calculated circles. All you could do was cry out, using one hand to hold the back of his hair and the other to rest against the table behind you to keep you upright. Bucky didn’t stop with his pleasure, even as he lifted one of your legs and eased it over his shoulder, giving him more room to ease two fingers into your desperately clenching hole.

As you succumbed to the pleasure, you half noticed Steve walking over to his main desk across the room, rifling through his draws before returning with the emergency bottle of lube that was usually saved for you. But now, as you watched over Bucky’s shoulder, you finally realised what their plan was.

With the height of the table, Bucky had to bend over to attach his mouth to your cunt, leaving his ass bare and ready for whatever Steve had planned. The blonde muscular man admired the view for a moment, grasping the globes of Bucky's firm cheeks and spreading them slightly and biting his lip as he saw his target.

Steve liberally coated his fingers in lube, thoroughly spreading the gel everywhere and then also squirting some onto the hole directly. During the experimental times during hundreds of sexual encounters between the three of you, you’d been able to see just what Steve and Bucky liked being done to them. Bucky, much to his surprise, absolutely loved to have his prostate milked as you sucked him off and even though the last few times and contemplated using something bigger as sometimes your fingers just weren’t big enough however never got to the point of something bigger as he’d usually cum by the time Steve had found a reasonable size dildo for him to use.

Steve had been just as reluctant but seeing the way Bucky responded to your fingers had wanted to try it as well had found that he liked a rimjob and a couple of fingers to stroke his prostate and had thought about asking Bucky to fuck him multiple times but once again, never made the move to do so with the fear of the relationships changing. Now however, there was no stopping him from asking but that would be for a later date, today was just about Bucky’s pleasure and giving him exactly what he wanted.

“We are still using the traffic light system, Buck, if you need to stop or pause it's yellow or red, understand?” Steve stated in as serious of a tone as he could muster as he watched Bucky continue to eat you out.

“Mmm, understood”, Bucky agreed, nodding his head which only stimulated your clit further as he mumbled around it.

Steve nodded and began to press his thick, rough and thoroughly lubed finger against Bucky’s hole, being careful to rock it in and stretch the muscle, not wanting to hurt him but Bucky wasn’t having any of the teasing today. With a throaty grunt, he pushed his hips back and took the entire length of Steve’s index finger, loving the hinting of the stretching burn.

He fully removed his face from your cunt to praise Steve, “fuck that feels so good, please Stevie, give me more, I need more”. Then he was right back on you again, fingers curling right against your spot and lips sealed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Your moans of pleasure were driving him insane and his cock was continuously leaking drips of precum, he didn’t have much longer before he came and wanted to still make it long enough to soak your pussy with his seed.

Steve gawked at the sight of his finger disappearing inside his best friend's asshole. His own cock was painfully hard and het to feel any relief but he didn’t care, needing to see just how far Bucky could go before even beginning to think about himself. Feeling the muscle beginning to relax and adjust to the side of his finger, he began to inch it in and out, ignoring Bucky’s pleas for more, and instead going deciding for himself when Bucky felt relaxed enough.

Steve finally added another finger, spending some time working the hole wide and teasing his prostate within, feeling Bucky shivering and gasping with how good it felt. Even having to stop on occasions as Bucky frantically tried to calm himself down and not cum yet.

You, on the other hand, had already came twice on Bucky’s mouth and fingers. You were so sensitive and so thoroughly aroused by Bucky's skilful body but hearing and seeing just how much Steve’s fingers were making him feel and especially knowing that Bucky was practically edging himself just sot hat he could cum in your pussy.

You were trying to catch your breath from the last orgasm, your back flush against the table as your arm couldn't hold your weight up anymore with your limbs now feeling like jelly. Bucky on the other hand was teasing and nipping your thighs, giving your sensitive pussy a moment to rest before he planned to fuck you.

Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky’s pupils were blown so wide that his eye colour looked black, your juices soaking his chin as he demanded, “Steve if you don’t fuck me right now, I can promise you right now that when we get home, I won’t suck your dick like I’ve been planning too since you ripped open my shirt”.

Steve’s eyes darkened just as much as Bucky's as he pulled his fingers out of Bucky’s slightly gaping hole and began to undo his belt and zipper, reaching into trousers and boxers and easing out his aching cock. He didn’t bother with removing any other article of clothing as he helped Bucky to stand up, the two of them shuffling forward so that Bucky could line himself up at your dripping cunt.

You lazily opened your eyes, grinning at the sight of Bucky preparing to fuck you with Steve over his shoulder. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink and their bodies trembling with the anticipation of the fucking that was about to take place.

Bucky rested a hand next to your head, leaning down for a second to delicately kiss your lips, “colour?” he asked, noting how cock drunk you already looked.

“Very, very green”, you responded, lifting your hands to cup his cheeks, pulling him into one more kiss before you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, He slowly entered you, your pussy stretching and pulsing around him as you tried to take his full size, thighs trembling with the exertion until the two of you were full fitted together.

Bucky kissed your exposed shoulder as he spread his stance slightly, making it easier for Steve to slide behind him and rock his cock between his arse cheeks, smearing the excessive amounts of extra lube over his shaft.

“I need to hear your colour too, Buck”, Steve demanded, one hand on the base of his cock and the other wrapped around the form of Bucky to grip his jaw, tilting his head so that his mouth was next to his ear.

“Very, very green”, he repeated your words back with a content smirk and you could feel his cock throb inside of you as Steve kissed his jaw.

All three of you seemed to hold your breath as Steve carefully slid his thick cock into Bucky's hole. A wonderful chorus of moans and groans filled the air. Steve couldn’t believe how good it felt to be inside of Bucky, finally doing something he had wished to do for so long. You were almost close to your third orgasm just from watching your boys fit together, and you could also feel just how much it was affecting Bucky with how hard his member was inside of your cunt.

Then there was Bucky, who had next felt such overwhelming pleasure before in his life. For his hole to be the most stretched and full he’d ever experienced, his prostrate being heavily jabbed by Steve’s cock and for Bucky’s own cock to be in his favourite place in the world: your warm, tight, wet pussy. He was in heaven. You all were.

Steve did most of the thrusting for all three of you. With a heavy hand resting on Bucky’s shoulder blades, he pushed the man forward and began to rock his hips back and forth. The momentum shifted Bucky's hips to them move in and out of you until all three of you were moving together.

Bucky was trembling with how much he was trying to hold back his orgasm, a constant stream of filthy moans floating from his mouth as he tried to get you to your third orgasm. However, because you were already so sensitive and overwhelmed with emotions, all it took was a couple of heavy-handed circles of Bucky metal fingers against your clit and you were arching your back, pussy fluttering and tightening in bursts around your boyfriend's cock.

“Holy fucking shit, Doll, feel so good, I - I think I’m going to cum already, fuck Steve don’t stop”. Bucky's gasps and pleas were just as desperate as his expression as he tried not to cum, tried his best to hold back his orgasm but it was no use.

Especially as you cupped his cheek and begged for him to find his own relief, “Please Bucky, want your cum in me so bad, need to feel you filling me up, cum for me”.

“Shit- Ah!”, he grunted, eyes clenching closed as he purposefully still his hips against Steve’s fucking, his mouth gaping open in a deep moan that you would remember for the rest of your life as one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

You could feel him, the pulsing of his cock, the thick load soaking your walls. Steve could too as Bucky’s hole clenched so hard his cock was suffocated and Steve joined the two of you in your erotic orgasms, his hips stuttering to a stop as his hot seed pumped into Bucky until finally he collapsed against Bucky’s back.

Bucky was half laying over your body against the table so you could easily run your fingers over the back of his head and also through Steve’s as you all tried to process what had just occurred and the relationship that had changed, and all for the better.

“So… how does it feel to be railed by Steve?” you asked innocently to Bucky. The man chuckled deeply, his chest vibrating against yours.

“Probably as good as it felt to be railing you”, he joked, causing you and Steve to laugh. Life was going to be very interesting between the three of you.

#mafia au #mafia stucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky smut #marvel smut #stucky x reader #mine*

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djarrex · 1 month

Text

burning hot

Howzer x f!reader | Fireball x f!reader | Howzer x reader x Fireball

ao3 | masterlist

The senator you work for assigned you to go to the clone base on Teth, where your primary job as a relations specialist has you venturing outside the job description.

It's been a while - but I just couldn't get these two out of my head. spoilers for the bad batch s3e6&7. 18+ only. explicit. oral. piv. a hint of creampie and a sprinkle of light choking. everything is consensual. almost getting caught. getting caught a little. after care and mention of the color system. a little bit of a threesome. I don't ship clones. no love triangle. reader is f! but no physical description is mentioned. It's been a long time since I've had to tag anything so please let me know if I need to add something. not gonna add user tags because I don't know who's out there anymore lol. enjoy the 10.5k words of smut with plot :)

Never would you have thought you’d one day travel to Wild Space, and yet here you are, just having entered the purplish atmosphere of a planet called Teth. You’re not traveling alone, though; you’re surrounded by a couple security guards of the senator you all work for, along with a few clones, although these particular clones are not soldiers of the Empire; they’re fighting back just as your Senator is, among a few others who remain in office. Your job is one that your Senator has entrusted to you when this all began, which is to facilitate communications and gather information for your office. Essentially, you speak with the clones about their experiences with the Empire, and see if there’s anything there that would help their case in the Senate, and eventually, to hopefully cast a light on the Empire’s crimes.

“We’re almost to the landing zone,” the pilot, a clone named Gregor, calls. Through the transparisteel you see the abandoned Monastery come into view, sitting atop a steep, mountainous pillar. Apparently, this is where the clones have set up their operations – their base. You figure it’s a good location because of how remote it is, being way out in Wild Space where the Empire’s shadow does not reach.

As the doors open and the ramp lowers, you see the several men who have been awaiting your arrival at the landing zone. Most of them, the ones who surround the pathway with their blasters held at ease, are in their helmets – but there are two clones in front of you without their helmets, one you quickly recognize as the Captain Rex.

You blink.

You know the other helmetless man, his hairstyle exactly the same as it was the day he was rescued, though now he’s in a full kit of armor, strapped with weapons. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him. He looks good, you note. Healthier than the day you met him, and judging by the operation they have going on here, he’s been keeping busy.

Debarking the ship, you follow closely behind your security. You try not to linger too long on the giddiness you feel of seeing him again, but as you’re walking by, you see his eyes briefly widen with the realization of who you are.

He remembers you.

You first met Captain Howzer several months back, on the day he was rescued. Tagging along with your boss and security, you finally were able to meet the men who were the talk amongst the office: The rogue clones who were fighting back against the Empire. The garage in the lower levels of Coruscant was filled with these clones, some who were recently rescued and the ones who’d already been in the fight. On the day you met Howzer, you were getting to know the men who’d just been rescued that very day–him being one of them–by hearing their stories and gathering as much information as you could for your office, jotting down anything of note that could help the clones’ case in the Senate.

When you spoke with their captain, Howzer, you could tell he was angry – resentful. He told you all about how he’d been arrested back on Ryloth for merely opposing an order that was just plain wrong. Dissidence. He’d been arrested with several of his men who’d laid down their arms in solidarity, only to have been rescued with a saddening two who’d survived the year-long imprisonment.

The two of you spoke for what felt like hours – long after the garage had cleared out of visitors and others had fallen asleep. You weren’t sure what it was – but you were feeling a pull – one that brought you closer and closer to him until the both of you felt the unspoken. He was flashing you a look – and that’s what did you in.

Howzer fucked you in a supply closet that evening.

It was quick and desperate. Howzer had you pinned to the back wall of that supply closet just moments after he'd followed your invitation inside. As you quickly worked your bottoms off, Howzer's desperation was blatant, his cock straining against those tight gray pants he'd been wearing since the rescue. His hands were quick and his movements were sloppy yet he still was able to expertly find every little thing that got you off. At one point, Howzer had you bent over the counter of a shelving unit, roughly pounding you from behind with his hand pressed against your mouth. His normally perfectly styled hair was falling out of place, strands hanging down his sweat-slicked forehead. He had you seeing stars quicker than you’d anticipated, and when he was nearly at his own climax, he pulled out of you and finished off into the palm of his hand, punctuating the moment with a slap to your ass and a soft, breathy kiss to your temple that juxtaposed it all.

You’ve been working alongside clones for over a year now–since your boss had decided to covertly join the fight–and you’ve gotten to meet many of these familiar yet unique faces. It’s never been the way it was with Captain Howzer, though – not that you’re looking for that. However, since meeting him that evening, you always had the teeniest of hopes that you’d see him around again.

And now, several months later, you’ve run into him here on Teth.

You try to hide your growing smile by pressing your lips together and looking down at your feet as you walk. His boots fall in line behind you, and not even several steps later, he clears his throat.

“Remember me?”

His voice comes from behind you, gruff and playful at the same time, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him from where he’s following behind you, his lips quirked at the corners.

You keep your voice low, glancing behind you as you walk. “Captain Howzer,” you greet simply.

He hums.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without the Imperial prison uniform,” you add.

Howzer lets out a wry laugh. “Felt real good to finally get out of those grays,” he tells you. “Felt even better to get back into my armor again.”

The group pauses, the leaders awaiting the doors to open.

“Glad to see you’re doing better,” you add, turning to face him fully. “This is quite the operation you guys have going on here.”

You swear you see Howzer briefly check you out, subtly eyeing you from head to toe. He grins. “So, what brings you here?”

“A job for the Senator. Apparently I’m good at getting you clones to share your stories and experiences.”

It’s the truth–that’s why you were assigned here for a while–but you’re also laying down little hints, something you know isn’t very professional of you but Howzer’s already reeled in.

He laughs at that, picking it up quickly. “I’ll say. I’d be happy to share even more with you.”

Barely minutes into a conversation with him and you’re already getting worked up, heat building in your lower stomach. “And I’d be happy to listen, Captain. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Howzer pitches his voice even lower. “How long will you be here for? You know, to listen?”

“Oh, that depends on how much you lot have to share.”

The same look appears in his eyes from your interaction all those months ago – the look that led the two of you into that supply closet. Even as the group continues inside, you can still feel his eyes on you.

“Once you’re settled, ma’am,” he says just a little louder, playing the part, “I’d be happy to brush you up on our progress here. For the Senator, that is.”

You once again fight to hide your knowing smile. “I’d be happy to listen, Captain Howzer. I’ll find you once I’ve settled in?”

He exhales deeply, a sly grin on his lips. “How about I give you a tour of the place first?”

Impatient.

But, honestly, so are you.

You look to your security and they nod in unison, and they step off to the side with a group of clones who are huddled over by the scanners.

You follow Howzer all the way to a seemingly unused doorway. He pushes it with some force to get it to budge, opening it up to the stairwell spiraling against the inner walls of the spire. The only lighting within the stairwell comes from the torch he just clicked on, and he takes your hand, guiding you down the spiraling steps until reaching the next platform. He sets the torch down and holds your shoulders, and you pull yourself closer to him.

“You know what’s been on my mind since seeing you come off the ship?” Howzer slips his hands under your shirt, teasing his way up to your chest. You gasp at his touches, legs already feeling like jelly.

“Tell me.”

He leans in. “How good you felt wrapped around my cock.”

You can tell just how wet you are already, and after waiting so many months to see him again, you’re growing impatient.

“I’m having a hard time remembering that,” you tease. “Maybe you could jog my memory?”

Even in the dim light you are able to see just how dark Howzer’s eyes get, the shadows of his face deepening with the expression of lust etching in his handsome features.

“Get your clothes off. Now.”

You start with your bottoms, pulling them off leaving yourself completely bare and exposed to the chilled air of the stairwell. Howzer doesn't take the time to remove all of his armor, only focusing on the parts that would get in the way. Before you can remove your shirt, Howzer stops you, his cock already hardened and in his hand.

“That’s good for now,” he orders breathily. Back against the stone wall, you bend your leg at the knee and Howzer takes it to hold against his armored hip as he guides his cock between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he comments in a voice far too deep. He nudges into you, and the feeling was an incredibly missed one. “Gonna take me so well, baby. Just like you did before.”

“Howzer…”

“Hang on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and Howzer hoists you up, effectively impaling you on his cock in the process. You cry out, the sound echoing throughout the stairwell.

“Gotta be a little quieter than that,” he chuckles confidently. “I haven’t even moved yet, pretty girl.” He kisses you then, his lips too soft for what you know is to come. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet. Can’t have anyone hear us down here.”

“Promise.”

With your back pressed against the wall and your entire lower half suspended in air by Howzer’s strong grip, you press your lips tightly together, and nod to give him the go ahead.

Howzer adjusts his grip and starts to move. He snaps his hips roughly, creating repetitive echoes of the sounds throughout the stairwell. Armor on skin. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him fucking you again to care about anything else. Your head falls back against the stone wall but Howzer won’t have that.

Between heavy breaths, he brings you back. “Eyes on me.”

When you meet his eyes again, you start to crumble. Even in this state they’re still such a soft, inviting brown, and you practically allow yourself to drown in them as you both near the finish. He sets you down on shaky legs, and turns you around. You present your ass to him, arching your back the way you know he likes. Howzer chuckles at that and quickly lines himself up to enter you again.

“Gonna paint this pretty ass,” he promises through gritted teeth.

The change of angle sends you into a frenzy, only this time, you’re able to cover your mouth.

The way Howzer fucks you is so needy and frantic, everything that was pent-up driving the way he snaps his hips and grips your skin. You can feel him everywhere – consuming you. Your body starts to shake when your orgasm hits and Howzer can feel it – it affects the speed of his movements with how tight you start to clench around him.

“Fuck – that’s it – so tight.” He groans – a syrupy rumble in his throat. “Feels even better than I remember. Shit.”

You quiver as Howzer yanks his cock from you. The feeling of the loss is soon replaced by the feeling of his cum spurting onto your skin, the sensation making you moan. You must look like quite a sight, because he keeps humming and groaning quietly as he continues to fist his cock, milking every last drop onto your skin.

Howzer pulls a small cloth from one of his pouches and wipes you off with it, helping you stand upright on your shaky legs. He starts to reattach his kit to his armor as you pull your bottoms back on, doing your best to fix yourself up without a mirror.

“Now that we got that out of the way…” The both of you laugh before you continue, “Wanna actually share with me some useful information that I can relay to my boss?”

Howzer wipes his forehead – combs his fingers through his hair. “That I can do.”

It’s been a few weeks since you got to the base, and you’ve been welcomed by all as if you were one of them.

You’re all on the same side here.

You even have your own room, a place to retreat to when you need some privacy, and the men set up sleeping arrangements in there for you as well. You contact your office once a rotation to keep them up to date, though there hasn’t been much to tell as of yet. What you do know is that the clones are planning something big, a mission to help free more of their brothers, and you suppose you’re going to be here until that becomes more defined. Your security–well, they’re the Senator’s security–left after the first day because they were really only there to protect you, a member of the Senator’s staff, while traveling to Teth. After they did their job, they left, leaving you to do your job in peace.

Since your first day, you’ve gotten to know quite a few of the men who are stationed here, and you’ve been able to speak to the leadership as well as the ones who normally stay back while a certain few others come and go, whether it be with the leaders or on their own respective missions. Captain Howzer is one of the men who come and go, mostly staying at the side of Rex, the clone captain who was the original contact of your boss, the reason why you got into this job in the first place.

You stay inside of the Monastery, not being a huge fan of the climate outside the stone walls. What you do enjoy is stepping outside to see the sunset and watching how the two moons rise into the mauve sky, when the humidity isn’t at its peak. Otherwise, you’d never venture out into the tangly jungle, or dare to climb the rocky terrain by yourself.

When Captain Howzer is around, though – you end up wandering off to places you normally would never go on your own. He keeps you busy, even when you both have some downtime from your duties.

Your secret encounters started off with him simply sneaking into your room at a time when nobody would ask questions. Then, it became him guiding you to remote locations within the base grounds, like the leech vessel that remains safely docked halfway down the spire, or even the transport ship that’s been under maintenance. You’ve even found yourselves behind closed doors in the communications room in the dead of night, riding his lap in one of the chairs. It’s always been quick sex so as to not get caught, but there’s a connection there that has you both feeling its pull. He always finds you before leaving for a mission, and never fails to pay you a visit once he’s back and debriefed. Hells, Howzer even kisses you like he misses you, but it’s just physical, and has to stay that way.

Currently, Captain Howzer and several others are away – gone for the past few rotations. To be completely honest, without him as an obvious distraction, you’ve been able to really focus on your job.

You’ve just gotten off a call with your office and are finishing typing out notes into your datapad, when Fireball, one of the clones who was rescued from an Imperial prison transport nearly a year ago, calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Chow time!”

A man who has quickly become one of your favorites, Fireball has long been the elected sous-chef around here, gladly taking up the responsibility of feeding his brothers when Captain Gregor is away. He’s cooked for you every day since you got here, making the dishes just as spicy and flavorful as you like. Not only have the two of you bonded over the food, you’re sometimes the only two inside of the main area of the base while everyone is either keeping up with their own duties around base or off-world on a mission. In those moments, Fireball has been able to really dig deep into his past experiences with you, sharing some of the more painful details that he’d otherwise keep buried and repressed. It isn’t always gloomy conversation, though; he is quite funny and keeps you entertained with cheerful anecdotes from his days as a soldier of the Republic. You’ve truly started to look forward to eating and chatting with Fireball.

With a smile, you set down your datapad and head to the kitchen, where Fireball starts to shovel out stew from a pot into a bowl for you.

“Smells delicious,” you tell him appreciatively, taking the warm bowl from him. “Thank you, Fireball.”

“You’re very welcome.” He returns your smile, offering you a seat at the table. “I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing. Gregor taught me some of his recipes and I’ve enjoyed making them my own.” He sits down beside you at the table, watching you take your first bite with his brows raised. “This is my take on tiingilar – added my own modifications. What do you think?”

The warm colors of the vegetables and the spicy scent of the steam rising from the surface really add to the flavor of the bite, all of it coming together and melting right into your mouth.

“Wow – this is good. You really know how to win over a woman’s heart, Fireball.”

You could swear you see his cheeks darken with a blush, his eyes casting downward as he takes a few bites of his own. “It’s the Captain who’s won you over, from what I’ve been hearing,” he then adds with a chuckle. “Howzer’s been asking about you every time he makes contact. I should know – I mostly man comms around here.”

It’s your turn to blush, your cheeks heating with the comment. “I-It’s not like that,” you stammer awkwardly, failing to defend yourself. “I’ve been helping h– talking him through some things.” Fireball looks amused, still slurping on his stew and watching you trip over your words. “I– we– I mean not we, but– ”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts, waving you off. “I haven't spoken a word to anyone about your relationship with the Captain.”

You freeze.

“...Relationship?”

Fireball leans close, pitching his voice low. “I know about you two.” Your heart nearly drops, but he’s quick to offer you relief. “Howzer told me. He wanted to make sure that if anyone found out, I’d catch the chatter first on comms. I know it probably wouldn't be very beneficial for your office to find out.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” You wipe the embarrassment from your face. “How long have you known?” Taking a heaping bite, you purposefully avoid his eyes.

“Well, I've known ever since I sort of walked in on the two of you last week.”

You almost choke on the bite. “What?”

“In the comms room,” he quickly adds. “I’m normally up to check the channels every hour. I could hear the two of you behind the closed door, thankfully, before I could open it.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he chuckles. “I’m just glad Howzer’s in a better mood overall. Now I can figure that’s because of you.”

You blink at him. Something sits wrong in your gut, and it’s not the stew. The last thing you want is for the guys here to think of you as a piece of meat – someone who is only here to offer them relief in a physical way. If word got out about what you and Captain Howzer have been getting up to, not only would that tarnish the view of you in the clones’ eyes, but would cost you your job for sure.

“Hey, I was sent here to help all of you – to offer an ear for your experiences but while also taking down anything of note to help the cause for not just my people but yours as well.” You sit up straighter, setting the spoon down. “We are all on the same side here, but I’m not just– not just a booty call.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” Fireball amends, his hand coming to rest over your own. “I know why you’re here. You helped me on the day I was rescued, too.” He smiles. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me on my first day of freedom, how you showed compassion and empathy towards what I’d gone through with the Empire.”

You soften then, offering an apologetic smile. You remember Fireball, meeting him in the same garage in the lower levels of Coruscant only a few months prior to Howzer’s rescue. “I’m glad I was able to help.”

A silent minute goes by then, the two of you finishing up your stew. When you take the last bite, he collects your empty bowl, making the short walk to the kitchen and setting them in a pile to be cleaned later.

“You being present, eating with me says more than you know,” Fireball adds after taking his seat beside you once again. “Normally I’m by myself in here when the leadership is away, back and forth between keeping the others fed and monitoring communications.”

You nod along with his words, unable to hide your growing smile stemming from your heated cheeks. Fireball continues and you listen.

“It’s just nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody different.” He rubs at the back of his neck, flashing you a bashful grin. “It doesn't hurt that you’re beautiful, too. I understand why Howzer’s so taken with you.”

Something clicks then.

You’ve developed a crush on Fireball.

It makes sense – him being someone who’s always there, someone who you’re always looking forward to chatting with. Of course he’s attractive, but it’s not just the exterior you admire about him; you truly appreciate who he is as a person – the decisions he made leading up to his turn against the Empire. Sacrifice. Heart. He’s brave and resilient. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you think he feels some type of way about you as well.

You and Howzer aren’t a thing. It’s okay to feel something for somebody else.

“I have to confess something,” you say to him, locking eyes with his curious ones, rounding as you begin to speak. “The guys here are so lucky to have you on their side. You’re a real catch – and honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you, too.”

The mood suddenly changes – the air charged. You want him, you decide. You briefly reason with yourself that this would not go against what you were saying before, about how you don’t want to sully the guys’ opinions of you by offering yourself up like this. This – this is different. You feel a connection with Fireball, one that’s full of tension that’s ready to snap at any moment. It’s too strong to turn your head away from, and you’re well aware the man sitting beside you feels the very same.

“Oh yeah?” Fireball bites his lip – runs his fingers through his hair. His voice lowers, gruffer and thick. The sound of it goes through your core. “Any woman?”

You take a beat, your heart thumping in your chest. He’s gotten closer – subtly leaning toward you. His hand slowly comes up, fingers gently pinching your chin.

“Say it, beautiful.”

You know he can do more than just cook and make you laugh – a man who is competent with more than just incendiary weapons. He’s been holding something back for a long time, you just know it.

“I want you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

And you want him to let loose.

“Stand up.”

Even though his voice came out just as quiet as yours, his tone was firm and certain, nothing to defy. You’re quick to stand, and in seconds Fireball is standing as well, his hands grasping your upper arms. You blink at him, awaiting for what should come next. You sense that he’s going to be the one calling the shots here – guiding you exactly where he wants you to go. He may not be part of the leadership around here but he sure as hell is in charge at this very moment. His eyes are deep in thought, that much you can tell. You figure he’s trying to decide on where to start, and the anticipation is making you clench around nothing.

Finally, his eyes make a decision, his hands offering your arms a gentle squeeze.

“Turn around.”

You oblige, awaiting further guidance.

“I also have something to confess,” Fireball says, his lips just behind your ear. You hold your breath as his hands travel all over your body, his touches featherlight and teasing. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Ever since you got here, maybe even before, when I’d heard you’d be joining us for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

He bends you over the table in one motion, and pulls your bottoms down to your knees in the next. You swallow thickly as his discarded gloves plop beside you on the tabletop. Breathlessly glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of him slowly crouching down, his face just inches away from your bare skin.

“Yeah. And when I heard you and the Captain in the comms room last week, I had to find someplace quick to work one out. Couldn’t get the sounds you were making out of my head.”

Fireball caresses your skin, his fingers coming close to your folds. Knowing he’s that close to touching you where you want makes you clench, a sight that he appreciates.

“Has… Howzer ever tasted you before?”

The question alone makes you whimper.

“N–no. Not yet.”

He only hums at that.

“Fireball – touch me, please.”

He continues to tease you, fingers gently prodding through your folds. The soft squelching sound of your arousal heats your face. Growing impatient and desperate for something more, you wiggle your hips, hoping to hint at him to stop teasing and get to it.

“You said to touch you, beautiful, and I am touching you. If you’re wanting something else, I need to hear you ask nicely.”

You could almost roll your eyes at that, but you’re far too worked up to be a brat. You know from experience that certain behaviors, though they can be fun, won’t get you very far.

“Please put your mouth on me. I want to feel your mouth on me, please.”

His response to you is a throaty chuckle, soon followed by exactly what you asked for. When he finally puts his mouth on you, you nearly cry out in relief.

He starts slow – still teasing while giving you the bare minimum. His lips plant little kisses to the backs of your thighs and all over your folds, his hands holding your hips steady. You’re so worked up that even the small amount he’s granting you is almost enough, but knowing what’s still to come, your body aches for more.

“Fireball, please, more.”

“I appreciate the manners.” You feel him chuckle again behind you, the vibrations even more teasing. Finally, you feel his tongue poke out between his lips, prodding through your folds.

You slam your hand against the tabletop. “Oh, fuck.”

He hums in satisfaction, quickly losing himself in your taste. Fireball practically latches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue vigorously working its way through and between your folds. The suction of your clit caught in his lips nearly ends you right then and there, but sensing that you’re incredibly close, he removes his mouth from you and instead stands. Disappointed, you turn your head to face him, catching sight of him wiping his mouth and removing the guard on his armor.

“I need to know what you feel like wrapped around me, beautiful.”

Seemingly awaiting your approval, Fireball runs his fingers through his hair, holding his hardened cock in his other hand. You gulp at the size of him, flushed and leaking. You haven't even touched him and he looks like he’s about to bust, his own arousal coming from just the taste of you.

“Fuck me, then.”

He hums.

You feel the head of his cock slide through the mess he made between your legs, and as he pushes himself in the slightest, you can’t help the shudder that rips through your body. He’s big, and even though you’re more than wet enough to take him, you’re clenching too much in anticipation.

He laughs at that – soft and sweet yet full of cockiness.

“Easy, darling. Barely even inside of you yet.” Fireball groans, the sound of it sending even more heat to your core. “Take a deep breath for me.”

You do, and he feeds his cock into you in that very breath.

“I won’t last very long,” he tells you once his armored hips are flush with your rear. “You feel too incredible.”

He starts to thrust then, slowly at first and even at the current pace you’re losing your mind. He’s so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. You don’t realize just how silent you’ve been through it all–too focused on holding your breath and keeping the noise to a minimum–until Fireball comments on it, briefly pausing and checking in to make sure you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you assure him. Your hand finds his own from where it's grabbing your hip – extra reassurance. “Faster. Go faster. Please.”

You’re guided into a standing position, your back meeting the cool, hard armor covering his body. Fireball’s hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing with too much pressure but it's very much there. His other hand finds its way between your legs, rubbing at your clit to match his increasing speed. It isn’t long until you’re crying out in ecstasy into the palm of your head, tears brimming in your eyes at the intensity of it all. When you climax, Fireball feels it for sure, his own cresting at breakneck speed.

“Where do you want me,” he breathily gasps into your ear, still rubbing your clit into overstimulation. You don’t have it in you to care though, legs wavering from your ongoing climax.

“Inside,” you whimper. “I have the implant.”

“Fuck, okay.”

Fireball cums inside of you – and the feeling is indescribable.

Never before have you been with a partner who felt like this during an orgasm. He makes the most sinful of noises as his cock swells deep inside of you, his body shaking against yours. He pants into your ear while your entire cunt heats with his amount of release, enough of it to seep out even with his cock still fully inside of you, feeling it trickle down your thighs.

Fireball bends you down against the table once again when he pulls out, a gush of warmth following. Crouched down to watch his handiwork, he swipes his fingers through some of the mess along your inner thighs, bringing it back to where it belongs.

“Messy girl. Took me so well.” He stands, guiding you back to your feet, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

“Anybody could have walked in on us,” you laugh breathlessly, that very realization making you quick in redressing, not caring about the mess still dribbling down your thighs and now soaking your underwear.

Tucking himself back into his undersuit and reattaching his guard piece, Fireball blinks dreamily at you. You’re pulled in by the look in his eyes, full of satisfaction and adoration. Your lips meet then, a passionate kiss that punctuates the moment perfectly.

“I should get to the comms,” he tells you almost apologetically. You nod in understanding, meeting his lips for another kiss. “See you around?”

“Of course,” you reply. “Looking forward to our next meal and conversation.”

The unspoken third activity hangs in the air, Fireball grinning knowingly at the implication.

It wasn’t even an hour later when some of the others came back to base after being away for a few rotations. You heard the team return, conversations loud enough to sound as if they were occurring just outside your room. Something about running into another shadow – those assassins you’ve been briefed on. Figuring this is a conversation you should be apart of, you gather your datapad and go to head out the door.

Right as you’re opening the door, Howzer is there.

“Welcome back,” you tell him with a hint of surprise in your voice, not at all expecting him to be right there. “I was just coming out to see what was going on.”

“We’ll debrief you later. Rex and Gregor have other business to attend to at the moment.”

You set down your datapad. “Oh, okay. Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a huge pot of tiingilar on the stove that was made about an hour ago. Should still be pretty warm–”

Howzer interrupts you when his lips passionately meet yours.

“There’s only one thing I’m hungry for,” he mumbles against your lips, quickly shutting the door behind him. “And she’s standing right here in front of me.”

You giggle at that, once again being swept off your feet when Howzer’s lips reconnect with yours. It happens so fast – his hands roaming your body. Too lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue tasting your lips you don’t realize one of his hands has already lost a glove and found its way into your pants until you jolt from the sensation. Your reaction makes Howzer pause, a curious brow raised.

You never cleaned yourself up from earlier. A request to make contact with your office had come in immediately following what took place in the kitchen, and you were so consumed with work that you completely forgot to take care of yourself.

And Howzer noticed.

“What’s the matter? A little sensitive down there, baby?”

You only manage a nod, bashfully smiling through it against his lips. Howzer continues, only now his fingers move your soaked panties to the side. He pauses again, this time pulling his face from yours.

“Oh?” He hums playfully, narrowing his eyes yet still keeping his cocky smirk. “You're a mess.”

His fingers slip inside you with ease, and his eyes widen. You choke on a gasp when his fingers pull from you, his hand raising up between your faces for you both to see. Coated on his digits is the creamy film of a mixture of releases, and some of it still dripping from your pussy from what happened between you and Fireball.

“Now who did this?”

Howzer once again lowers his hand and slips his fingers inside of you, pulling them out only to swipe at your sensitive clit. The motions make your body jolt again, and he takes notice, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“Here I was thinking you took care of yourself because you’re just so needy.” He shakes his head, his tongue coming to wet his lips. “Now I see I’m not the only one you’re fucking around here.”

Howzer wipes his hand onto his glove, his eyes never leaving yours. Guilt and shame immediately flood your entire body – but you’re unsure why. You and Howzer aren’t a thing – nothing official. So why does he sound so–not angry, not upset–disappointed?

He tilts his head, a cocky look once again appearing on his face as he watches you.

“Hey, it's okay,” he tells you genuinely, reaching for your arms and pulling you towards him. He guides you toward a wall, your back firmly pressed against it. “I don't mind sharing. Why don't you tell me who it was, baby? Tell me who beat me into cumming in this perfect pussy while I was away.”

Crouching down, Howzer guides your bottoms off, pulling them from your feet and tossing it all to the side. He watches how you squirm under his gaze, his eyes taking note of every detail from the encounter you had.

“Couldn't have been Gregor,” he comments absently, swiping his fingers through your mess. He plants a kiss to an unsullied part of your inner thigh. “Couldn't have been Rex, either.”

The very names of both captains being used in this context makes you shiver, the thought of either of them touching you in such a way heating you up inside. They’re both incredibly competent – strong – skilled. You’re sure they’d completely and utterly ruin you for anybody else.

Howzer chuckles at your reaction and stands up, his hand still toying with you. “It wasn't them but I can tell you wouldn't mind that, hm? Such a filthy, needy girl. You'd take all of us at one time if that were possible, wouldn't you?”

The thought truly never crossed your mind until now – something to revisit later. You’re getting yourself into trouble – the best kind. You’re afraid of getting addicted to the feeling of these men touching you, first Howzer and then Fireball. They may be clones, but from what you can tell so far, they do things in their own, unique ways. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at all curious about how the others would handle you – if they’d take you roughly, tenderly – if they’d use their mouth on you or speak filth into your ear.

Your own fantasies scare you – threatening to make you lose sight of who you are and why you’re here. The most debauched of images flash into your mind – a scene of multiple men of this base taking turns using you in any way they desire.

Fingers slowly thrusting into you as he awaits your response, you gasp out a shaky “Yes”, making Howzer bite his lip.

He peers at you with darkened eyes. “We can discuss that later.”

But he's not finished questioning you yet.

“Was it Greer? Samson?” Howzer’s hand quickens, fingers plummeting harder into you. He curls them, too – massages the spot that makes your brain fuzzy. Lips brushing against your jaw, he continues to rattle off a few more familiar names, but you shake your head at each of them.

“Nemec?”

No.

“Fireball?”

When you finally hear his name, you can't help but gasp. Howzer catches on, humming thickly at your wordless confession.

“Ah, I see. I'm sure he was good to you, baby, so why are you this needy and wanting more?”

Howzer removes his hand then, instead heading over toward the door, leaving you pantsless and unfulfilled.

“Howzer, please.”

Hand reaching for the door controls, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Why don't I call Fireball in here so he can properly take care of you, hm? Seems you were left unsatisfied.”

When you don't respond right away, Howzer approaches you, his face serious and concerned. He takes your hand. “If this is too much, please let me know. It's all just talk if that's what you're comfortable with. We don't need to take it further.”

“I appreciate your caution. I really do – but I'm fine with it, Howzer.”

“You're sure?”

“I– I like that idea,” you admit quietly.

Howzer raises an intrigued brow.

You feed into it then, reiterating the foundation of all this talk.

“I let Fireball cum inside of me.”

“I know, baby. Want to tell me what else he did?”

“He ate me out from behind and fucked me against the kitchen table.”

Howzer’s eyes widen at your confession but narrow just as quickly, seemingly disapproving of the carelessness you displayed. Every encounter you had with Howzer so far has been off the beaten path, definitely not in a common area in the middle of the day no less.

He shakes his head.

“Anybody could have walked in on you two.”

It was risky – but exciting.

You bite your lip at the memory.

“I know.”

“When was this?”

“About an hour ago.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Howzer puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side in thought. He watches you intently with his lips twisted. “Hm. Clean yourself up, then take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll be back soon, okay?”

You nod, Howzer kissing you before throwing out one last command: “And don’t touch yourself.”

Body shaking and your heart pounding with anticipation, you quickly clean yourself up with a damp rag and shed the rest of your clothing before getting into your bed, just as you were instructed. Implications of Howzer’s final comments to you has you spiraling, different scenarios coming to the forefront of your mind. He’s going to get Fireball, you know it. He’s going to bring him right here to you, and the two of them will take turns with you – or, maybe, they’ll use you at the same time.

Your pussy flutters at that idea.

You try your hardest to present yourself in the best way for their return, propping yourself up against your pillows and wrapping the blanket around parts of you that they would have to remove themselves to expose you. It’s a lengthy twenty or so minutes until Howzer returns, but just as you thought, Fireball’s right at his side.

“Hello, boys,” you say in the sweetest voice you can muster, despite the small amount of disappointment for the wait. Their eyes flash the very same dark shade of desire, pooling deep in those soft brown eyes they share.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling. I made sure no one would be around. Had to make up an excuse to borrow Fireball for the evening.”

“You didn’t touch yourself while you were waiting, did you, beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker to Fireball, shaking your head no.

“Good girl. Following orders so well already.”

Howzer agrees and starts to undo his holders and the rest of his armor, Fireball wordlessly following the other in preparation. Neither of them take their eyes off of you for too long, staring at you as if they mean to devour you completely.

And you think they just might.

Dressed only in their undersuits now, Howzer doesn’t break eye contact with you as he addresses the other, gesturing to you with a jolt of his chin.

“Fireball, she told me what you did out in the kitchen, where anybody could have walked right in,” he begins, that same firm, disapproving tone present in his voice as it was with you. “Now, I want you to show me exactly what you did to make our girl so damn messy.”

Our girl.

You could get used to this.

“Of course.” Fireball grins. “I’d be happy to.”

You bite your lip at Fireball as he approaches, but you glance quickly to Howzer, who has decided to sit this one out in the chair against the wall.

His eyes don’t leave you, though. He’s going to watch.

“A proper bed,” Fireball comments, caressing your cheek in the palm of his hand. He rips the blanket from your body and leans toward your ear, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I can’t wait to break you apart. I’m going to ruin you, beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat, then Howzer speaks up in the background almost knowingly. “We all know the color system, correct?”

Not looking towards the man in the chair, you nod, Fireball nodding along with you.

“Good.”

With that, Howzer leans back, legs spread. You can already see the outline of his cock straining in his skin-tight pants.

He wants a show, and you’re going to give him one.

That is, if Fireball doesn’t destroy you first.

“I can’t believe how messy you were,” Fireball comments in disbelief as his hand slips between your legs. “Kept me inside of you that whole time, even let Howzer finger you like that.” He continues stroking you, paying extra attention to your clit. “Spread your legs this way,” he directs, angling your body so you’re exposed to Howzer. Fireball teases you in the same fashion as he did just a little while earlier, planting kisses all over your thighs and folds until you’re begging him for more. Howzer, meanwhile, has started to palm himself over his clothes, watching with his lips parted.

The extra pair of eyes on you turns you on even more.

“Fireball, use your tongue like you did before.”

He smacks his lips, squeezing your thigh in warning. “Now, now, where are the manners you were using so politely before?”

You’re not in charge here. You never were.

“...Please.”

Satisfied, Fireball grins. “Good girl.”

He attacks your pussy with his tongue, only this time, he’s sloppier. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or maybe it’s the audience, but he’s using his tongue in a way that has your head spinning and hips bucking. Fireball seems to be spurred on by this, doubling his efforts and even using an arm to keep you pressed into the bed. He switches to suck vigorously at your clit before lapping at you and it’s already far too much. Your body is desperate for release.

“I’m– I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please.”

He pulls his mouth from you, his lips smacking against your wet folds from a sloppy kiss. Wiping his mouth, he flashes you a devilish grin.

“Not yet. You’re going to cum on my cock, just like before.”

Defeated, you flop your head back onto the bed, your climax receding. You know that the disappointment won’t last for long, though.

Fireball stands, kicking his bottoms all the way off and peeling his shirt off over his head. You’re granted a perfect view of his entire body, the muscles and hair and soft patches making your head spin. You even discover he has a tattoo – a rather large piece that starts from his hip and travels up his side, the shape of flames twisting around to his pectoral.

You go to adjust, to change position, but Fireball stops you. “No, no. You lay just like that,” he tells you, guiding you back to where you were. “Hold your knees up for me. Good girl – just like that.”

Still laying on your back, both men have a perfect view of your pussy, clenching with need before their eyes.

Fireball leans down to your ear again, his cock hot and dragging heavy against your stomach. He’s so incredibly warm. “We’re going to give him a show. When I cum, I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it all like the good girl you are.”

You gasp at his filthy words of promise, but Fireball isn’t pleased with your lack of verbal response. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, not hard, but definitely firm enough to get your attention. “You tell me if I’m going too rough,” he asks you sincerely. “I’m having fun with you, but stop me if it’s going over the line.” You nod weakly, desperate to feel him between your legs once again. He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

“I’ll let you know,” you promise. “I’m green, Fireball.”

“Good.”

With that, he stands back up at the edge of the bed, scooping his hands under your rear and dragging you up above the edge. Your hands grab at your knees as instructed.

“Deep breath,” he commands, turning his head over his shoulder at Howzer, almost as if he’s giving him a pointer – a jab about his size.

Your lower half hovering over the bed, you take that deep breath, already knowing what’s to come. Fireball impales you on his cock, sinking even deeper than before without the armor as a hindrance. Every part of his hips and groin make contact with your skin this time, including the maintained curls at the base of his cock. He holds there for a few moments, taking deep breaths, almost as if he’s composing himself.

You once again glance at Howzer, his cock outside of his waistband now and being fisted by his hand.

You could gush from the sight alone.

“I’m green,” you remind Fireball.

Sweat already starts to bead at his hairline, strands of hair falling out of place. He looks wrecked already and he hasn’t even begun moving yet.

“You feel incredible like this,” he sighs in admiration. “I should just have you sit on my cock while I’m manning comms. Keep it warm for hours until you’re shaking.”

“Fuck, Fireball–”

“Yeah, would you like that, beautiful? To be my pretty little cockwarmer?”

“For fucks sake, enough,” Howzer growls out from behind him. “Just fuck her already, or step aside.”

You almost laugh at how Howzer’s impatience is somehow shorter than your own, but Fireball isn’t having it. He goes from zero to ten in seconds, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts from each thrust, breaths being punched out of your lungs almost uncomfortably. The feeling of his cock knocking into the back wall of your cunt is all you can focus on, and as Fireball becomes more intense, he stalks talking.

“Tell him, beautiful,” he begins, his skin slick with sweat and lips parted. “Tell him who the first one was to cum inside this pussy. Tell him who claimed you there first.”

You hear Howzer groan from behind him, and it spurs you on. You did want to give him a show, after all.

“You did, Fireball,” you choke out. “You did.”

“Damn right,” he continues, more hair falling out of place. “And I’m going to do it again, but you’re going to cum with me. You cum when I say and only when I say. Understood?”

“...Yes, sir.”

Your ranking comment seems to be one that does Howzer in, because you can hear the telltale sounds of the Captain cumming into his own hand. Fireball though, he takes your comment and runs with it, twisting his face into determination. The muscles of his abdomen flex violently as his thrusts change into quick jabs. He’s utterly disheveled, but he’s not done with you yet.

“I can feel how close you are. You’re so fucking tight around my cock.”

You nod absently, too far gone to speak. There’s so much pressure built up inside of you that you feel you’ll burst at any moment; and that moment comes when Fireball’s fingers find your clit, rubbing at it in quick motions.

“Cum. Now.”

You’re thankful to hear the words, because you fear you were about to anyway. You feel yourself gush around his cock, along with that familiar feeling of heat coming from his own release being pushed deep inside of you. You’re drunk on it – utterly lost in euphoria. Out of your body. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is how Fireball caresses your cheeks, so incredibly tender compared to how he just handled you.

“You okay, beautiful?”

His eyes look wide with concern, full of fear that he crossed a line. You reassure him with the sincerest smile you can manage at the moment, your head still dizzy with endorphins.

You then see Howzer appear beside Fireball, his face reading the same expression.

You reach up to take Howzer’s hand. “You wanted Fireball to make a mess of me again,” you say quietly, still coming back to your body. “Look.”

Both men look at where you’re gesturing, their eyes blown wide and lips parting with a groan. You clench and relax your muscles, pearls of white seeping out from your swollen pussy and dripping onto the floor. You giggle tiredly at their shared reactions.

“I know you need a break, baby,” Howzer says, running his hand along your thigh. “But I want you so bad right now.”

“Then have me,” you offer. “I promise I’m green, just a little tired is all.”

Fireball cleans himself off and starts to redress. “I’m going to get some water.” He hands Howzer a different rag and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Howzer lifts you and lays you down the other way, your head now supported by pillows. He strips off his undersuit and takes his place beside you, one hand caressing different parts of your body while the other carefully runs the rag between your legs.

“You’re breathtaking,” he tells you. “And you looked so good getting fucked like that.”

You smile at him, holding his chin in your hand, running your thumb along the scar. “I can’t believe you just watched,” you tease. “I almost expected you to push Fireball out of the way, especially after how impatient you got.”

He laughs at that. “I’ll still have you, baby. I’m not worried.”

“Have me now, Howzer.”

“You sure?”

“Please. I want you.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle.”

Howzer climbs on top of you, holding your face in his hand as he swipes his cock through your folds. You wince at the sensation, far too oversensitive for any type of teasing. Even though he just came into his hand not long before you got yours, he’s already hard again, and easily slips inside of you. Both of you share a soft moan, Howzer’s eyes fluttering shut at the feel of you wrapped around him.

Your leg bent and held against his hip, he slowly starts to thrust, his heated chest pressed against yours.

“I missed this,” he admits. “I thought about you a lot while I was away.”

“Fireball told me that you were asking about me every time you made contact.” You giggle when Howzer looks away in embarrassment, but your hand finds his scarred cheek, delicately redirecting his eyes to yours. “It was sweet.”

Howzer’s lips meet yours, his hips resuming that same, slow pace. It’s relaxed yet he’s still hitting so deep, a balming sensation that sends butterflies through your stomach.

A knock at your door makes you both pause briefly, but you soon recognize it as Fireball returning with water, and invite him in.

“Leave it on the table,” you direct Fireball. “And come over here.”

Howzer gives you a curious look, though not letting it phase his movements. Fireball obeys and is at your side in an instant. You take your hand from Howzer’s shoulder and instead reach for the waistband of Fireball’s undersuit. His brow raises, and this time, Howzer halts.

“I want to suck your cock while Howzer fucks me.”

Both men once again widen their eyes.

“This is what I want,” you offer before either of them can object or make an argument for your sake. “Howzer, it’s okay, you can go a little harder. I know you want to.”

Howzer smirks at you and nods, adjusting himself to kneel upright so he can give you what both of you need. Fireball can’t help but reach for your breasts, running his hands all over your chest. You guide his cock out from his undersuit and he steps closer, resting a knee on the bed to get a good angle.

“Howzer, I want you to cum inside of me. Fireball, I want you to cum on my tits.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hear one of them groan.

Looking up at Fireball with pleading eyes, you open your mouth and extend your tongue. His jaw practically drops at your gesture, taking that as the goahead to feed his cock into your mouth. You taste the tang of release still clinging to his skin and you quickly start to crave it, your mouth watering for more.

Howzer resumes his own movements, his hands clinging to your hips like a vice. They both use you, one cock nudging the back of your throat while another punches into your gut. Howzer’s normally perfectly styled hair quickly becomes mussed from exertion, those combed strands collapsing down his forehead.

Fireball thrusts into your mouth over and over again, drool starting to dribble down your cheek and chin. He keeps one hand occupied with squeezing your breasts while the other finds a home wrapped around your throat, just as it was earlier. That same tingly sensation floods your senses again from even the faintest of pressure offered, sending sparks to your core.

“She’s so close,” Howzer tells the other, as if you aren’t there.

Fireball smirks at that, squeezing your throat with just a little extra pressure.

“Fuck, do that again,” Howzer groans. “She liked that.”

Fireball repeats the motion, squeezing then releasing, and each time you clench with the return of pressure. It’s so much and just when you thought you couldn’t possibly have another one in you, your third orgasm of the evening hangs right there, though this one doesn't feel as disastrous. You start to welcome it but hold back, awaiting permission.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” Fireball coos. “Cum for us.”

Howzer chimes in, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips upward to hit that spot he knows will send you over the edge. “C’mon, baby. You can cum.”

When it arrives, it washes over you like a cool, replenishing rain, different from the others that were burning hot and unforgiving. You feel at ease and brand new. You feel safe with these men, knowing they’d do anything to take care of you. As you start to come down from your relaxed high, the pair dote on you with praise and gentle touches, then switch their focus to finishing themselves. You help them get there anyway you can, adding in extra clenches for Howzer and tongue movements for Fireball.

It isn’t much longer after that when Fireball pulls out of your mouth and pumps himself at the head, squeezing as his cock spurts his cum onto your chest. Howzer starts to crumble at the sight of the white ropes painting your breasts and drool coating your chin, and shortly after that, he’s burying himself as deep inside you as he can, pelvis flush with yours, and shakes and groans with his own release.

Both of them looked wrecked yet so satisfied. They also share the same admiration in their eyes as they get you cleaned up and hydrated.

Fireball sits at the edge of the bed, offering you and Howzer the blanket to cover up.

“Can I ask you both a personal question?” You and Howzer glance at each other, nodding in unison to Fireball before he continues. “What started…” he gestures with his hands to the two of you lying beside one another in bed, “...This?”

“We actually met several months ago,” you start to explain.

“And hooked up that same day,” Howzer adds with a grin. “Guess we sort of picked up where we left off.”

You laugh. “Captain Impatient here couldn't wait to get me alone on my first day here.”

Howzer shakes his head at your nickname, and Fireball only nods along as he listens to the two of you go back and forth.

“I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” Fireball finally chimes in. “You two have something here – and I don’t want to ruin that.”

You make eye contact with Howzer, both of you thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re not ruining anything,” you assure him. “What Howzer and I have–” you look at Howzer again, to ensure you’re both on the same page, “--It won’t go beyond this right here.”

Fireball turns instead to his captain, wanting to hear what he has to say.

Howzer considers for a moment, tenderly grabbing your chin before responding. “I already told our girl here that I don’t mind sharing.” He pauses again. “That is– if you don’t mind sharing, Fireball.”

Fireball grins. “I definitely don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the way of anything.”

Simultaneously, they both make eye contact with you. Howzer’s fingers delicately run across your cheek. “Are you okay with it, darling?”

You ponder their offer for a moment, thinking about everything it could cost you. You’re here for work, not for pleasure. You’re way out in Wild Space because you were entrusted with this job. Yes, you would lose this job if word got around that you’re sleeping with the clones. Yes, you’d lose the trust of many, and perhaps lose the faith of your people, who are counting on your office to fight against the Empire in a diplomatic way.

But you look at these two men, one laying next you, the other sitting at your bedside. Both of them would protect you without a second thought. Both of them have already shown how much they care about you. Both of them still allow you to do your job, mutually benefitting from it. They take your mind off everything that’s going on – the oppression of your people, the tragic experiences of recently rescued clones, the disheartening news when a mission fails.

And when the need arises, both of them can make you feel things unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It started with Captain Howzer – and you’re not at all about to turn away Fireball. You have strong connections with both of them, and you’re not willing to give up the physical aspects of those relationships.

Sitting up, you grab their hands, holding them in your own. You keep a serious expression on your face, wanting to display that yes, you’ve given this a lot of thought, even though you already knew your answer. You want to show them that you’re taking this seriously, and that their caution and concern are dually warranted.

That serious expression of yours morphs into eagerness, a smile forcing its way across your lips.

“As long as I can do my job without too many distractions, and as long as my office doesn’t find out – I’m okay with it.”

#djarrex writes #captain howzer x reader #clone trooper fireball x reader #howzer x reader #fireball x reader #howzer x reader x fireball #the bad batch #tbb #clone thirsting

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fatehbaz · 2 years

Text

Why should low-carbon projects be permitted to destroy legendary Native American sacred sites? Yakama elders witnessed the construction of The Dalles Dam that flooded and silenced Celilo Falls on the Columbia River. Since time immemorial, Celilo Falls was one of history’s great marketplaces. Multiple tribes had permanent villages near the falls. Thousands of people gathered annually to trade, feast, and participate in games and religious ceremonies over millennia. During spring, this natural monument surged up to 10 times the amount of water that passes over Niagara Falls today.

What must Indigenous people continue to sacrifice for energy development? The Seattle Times editorial board recently announced support for the Goldendale pumped-storage hydroelectric project to benefit the state’s clean-energy portfolio [“Goldendale energy project can help meet state’s clean-energy needs,” Sept. 2, Opinion]. The board constructed an alternate reality where tribal nations could find common ground with the developer and resolve objections to project construction. The board wrote, “A compromise that would allow the project to go forward while respecting tribal concerns would be a benefit for all.” The board ignores the realities of Native American history and the history of this project, which the Confederated Tribes and Bands of Yakama Nation (Yakama Nation) have objected to from the initial development proposal at this site.

The project site is situated on Pushpum — a sacred site to the Yakama Nation, a place where there is an abundance of traditional foods and medicines. The developer’s footprint proposes excavation and trenching over identified Indigenous Traditional Cultural Properties, historic and archaeological resources and access to exercise ceremonial practices and treaty-gathering rights.

Notably, the project site covers the ancestral village site of the Willa-witz-pum Band and the Yakama fishing site called As’num, where Yakama tribal fishermen continue to practice their treaty-fishing rights.

Yakama Nation opposes the development. The developer proposes two, approximately 60-acre reservoirs and associated energy infrastructure within the Columbia Hills near the John Day Dam and an existing wind turbine complex. The majority of the nearly 700 acre site is undeveloped; the lower reservoir would be located on a portion of the former Columbia Gorge Aluminum smelter site. The tribe’s treaty-reserved right to exercise gathering, fishing, ceremony and passing of traditions in the area of the proposed project has existed since time immemorial. The tribe studied mitigation; it is impossible at this site.

Columbia Riverkeeper, and more than a dozen other nonprofits, stand in solidarity with Yakama Nation and oppose the development: The climate crisis does not absolve our moral and ethical responsibilities. Both tribal nations and environmental organizations have worked tirelessly to stop fossil fuel developments and secure monumental climate legislation in the Pacific Northwest. But we refuse to support a sacrifice zone to destroy Native American cultural and sacred sites in the name of combating climate change.

Environmental justice is on the line with the pumped-storage development. Seventeen tribal leaders sent a letter to Gov. Jay Inslee, urging him to reject development permits. The leaders explained, “Our ancestors signed Treaties with the United States, often under threat of violence and death, in exchange for our ancestral lands and sacred places. Through these treaties, we retain the rights to practice and live in our traditional ways in these places. Yet, the promises made by the government have been broken time and time again.”

Earlier this year, the Washington State Office of Equity, located within the governor’s office, released the state’s inaugural five-year Washington State Pro-Equity Anti-Racism Plan & Playbook. Gov. Inslee stated, “We will no longer replicate and reinforce systems, processes and behaviors that lead to inequities and disparities among various communities.” Now is the time to apply the playbook to climate change and energy siting.

There is no room for compromise. The choice is stark: Continue to advance our nation’s and state’s history of sacrificing Indigenous resources through broken promises, or work with tribes committed to tackling the climate crisis while, at the same time, protecting the last remaining sacred sites.

---

Text by: Jeremy Takala and Lauren Goldberg. “Stop sacrificing Indigenous sacred sites in the name of climate change.” The Seattle Times. 25 September 2022.

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ctinalk · 2 months

Text

Is Crowley already the new Supreme Archangel?

A few oversights made millennia ago, and suddenly we have a demon archangel on our hands.

Caution: I came up with and wrote this in the last few hours so potentially crackpot theory ahead. Apologies if this has been proposed before, it’s not one I’ve seen. And I’ve seen A LOT.

So supposedly the miracle Aziraphale and Crowley performed together was something only the mightiest of archangels could have done. Everyone assumes it was Crowley because they think he was a high ranking Angel formerly. Or that it was the two of them together. Or that Jimbriel amplified it. But what if…

“There is always a supreme archangel”

Michael says this in S2E1 when talking with Uriel about who is in charge now that Gabriel was missing. Gabriel was removed from office in the trial we hear, he’s no longer Supreme Archangel. If so, Michael’s statement would imply that as soon as Gabriel’s removal happened, a new archangel already existed. Now obviously the Metatron is making a show of choosing Aziraphale as the new Supreme Archangel. But is that within his power to do so? Or is he suggesting working with Crowley for a different reason, possibly unknown even to him?

“I am the only first-order archangel in the room, or you know, the universe”

During the “2nd Armageddon-that-wasn’t” discussion, Gabriel says these words. As he says them, it cuts (ominously isn’t the right word here, pointedly maybe?) to Crowley leaning against the desk, and lingers there just a bit too long.

“How do you know it wasn’t me?”

Another clue to the powerful angel Crowley was. It was clearly said in a teasing manner throw Shax off. But much like the barrel of red herring in the intro, is it a red herring to something else?

“Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you?”

The only other time we see someone calling lightning or using it is, you guessed it: Gabriel in S1 on the airbase to port in and out. I’ve read the theory that Angel!Crowley was the lord of lightning, which I’m not opposed to, but to me this is another link.

“Never change their passwords”

We have one HUGE instance of Heaven being sloppy in their record keeping (passwords), and lax in their security protocol (Crowley bopping about with Muriel). Whereas Hell is meticulous in their record keeping, as shown by the bills, admissions process, and S1 contract.

So what if: when Gabriel was stripped of the title, a new Supreme Archangel was automatically appointed. Except instead of someone else, because heaven neglected to double-check their logs after The Fall, Crowley was still on the books as next in line? This would absolutely play into “God playing games with the universe” and “just think what would have happened if we’d been at all competent” themes running through both seasons. It would also follow the theory that people noticed Aziraphale and Crowley were on the “wrong” side for much of the season. It would also explain a few continuity errors along the way (how did Crowley know Muriel’s rank? He knows it through the knowledge automatically given to the Supreme Archangel).

“Funny ol’ world, isn’t it?”

Caveats and potential weaknesses:

I have no idea how this fits into the fact that S3 will be the actual continuation the Neil and Terry planned, as to my knowledge S2 was essentially a “Neil’s chaotic angsty ineffable husbands fanfic”. But clearly S2 has to play well into the plan for S3. I also kind of hate my theory because Crowley specifically declined to be an angel again, and his hand has been forced too often already.

Now I am a staunch advocate of the body-swap theory, and I’m not sure how this would play into that. Does Metatron know? Does he think he has the power to appoint? Does he think the title went to Aziraphale because of the miracle? Does he try to get Crowley to come back with Aziraphale to exploit his power? Does he know about the body swap in S1 and if so, was he trying to trigger another one to get the right “soul” to heaven?

There are a few other things I haven’t figured out how to incorporate into this post yet. I’ll try to put them into coherent thoughts in the next few days, but thought I’d throw this to the wolves universe for the time being.

Thought 1: “How have your lot managed to stay in charge all this time?” “I’m not so sure we have.”

Thought 2: I need to do (another) rewatch before I nail this one down (such a sacrifice I tell you), but does Crowley have a visceral reaction like he does in S1 to being called “good” in the current, post Gabriel-removal timeset? Obv in Edinburgh/Job, but that’s in the past. He denies it, sure (with Jim), but he straight up flashes a smile and thanks Mrs. Sandwich when she says “You’re a good lad” (after the denial).

2.1: No one calls him “good” in present day except these two instances. Vast difference in the visceral reactions of season 1 and flashbacks.

Thought 3: Crowley is the only one who can trigger Jimbriel’s recall memory.

#good omens #good omens theories #good omens season 2 #good omens s3 #good omens meta #crowley #angel!crowley #supreme archangel Crowley

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nouearth · 10 months

Text

to be loved.

pairing ; dick grayson x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, nightwing. word count ; 1253. genre; angst. rating ; pg-13. warnings ; cheater!dick, hurt!reader, crying. req ; @arc6n.

today was perfect.

the sun casted over you when you exited your office building, hot and hard on a summer day, motivated to detox you of a day’s worth of stress and relief all at the same time. you preferred not to sweat on a day as special as this so a cold shower was imperative after getting home.

you hated the sun. maybe hate was a strong word—disliked. it made you sticky like you are now and there was talk amongst the mosquitos that you had the sweetest blood in town. few would bite, some would have seconds, but it was only a mere annoyance to your day.

nothing could ruin your anniversary.

you were out from work early after getting permission from your boss. you knew she would allow it since you’ve done a ton of heavy lifting to the company as of recent and alongside your perfect attendance, it was a no-brainer.

you wanted a head start on cooking dinner for dick—lobster rolls. it was a bit out of your usual budget, but he deserved it, especially since you’ve been busier the past few months. groceries were bought the day before, still fresh in the cooler, and you prepared the ingredients last night to reduce prep time.

a smile graced your face as you drove back to his apartment and you heard him in your head—dick—coddling you with simple praises for being so smart and efficient. the thought was sudden, but that was how it always was when it came to your boyfriend. you thought of him in every waking moment: his voice, his smile, his body, his kindness—everything. each memory of him calmed you, made time pass by, and you never found yourself bored from replaying moments in your head like you did with rewatching your favorite tv show.

it was almost sunset when you arrived. the day has gotten cooler, but remained humid as you felt yourself getting sticky again during the brief moment you traveled from your car and into the apartment building. the security guard greeted your familiarity and you did the same, though hurriedly as every second counted before dick would come home.

“lobsters are in the freezer… celery is chopped- oh, potatoes. gotta roast potatoes…” the elevator took you to dick’s floor and anxiety crept along seemingly out of nowhere as you were previously excited for the night a few seconds ago. it was a good thing, you told yourself. the fact that dick still made you nervous, gave you butterflies after four years together—it was a good thing.

“man, i gotta pee…” you muttered.

keychains clang against one another as you fumbled with dick’s lock, opening it with a gentle creak. you exhaled a sigh of relief when you entered, the air conditioner reunited with your damp skin again, cooler and colder as you beelined to the bathroom.

and maybe there was a reason for you to be so nervous.

you’ve always been observant. it was why co-workers came to you to proofread their paperwork and why dick preferred telling you what he got you for a present as opposed to hiding it, because you always knew something was off.

you relieved yourself, and noticed the humid air in the bathroom—heavy and damp. the shower curtains were still wet and the aroma of dick’s body wash lingered, stung your nose even, and it all confirmed your suspicions.

“shit.” dick’s already home. the fog on the mirror hid your dumbfounded expression well, but you can hear dick’s laugh in your head again. he has something prepared. probably another dinner reservation like last time? guess i could save the lobster for tomor-

another laugh.

then another.

you blinked slowly, even quickly washed the sweat off your face to wake you of your delusions. maybe thinking of him every second isn’t exactly good for me.

but another muffled outside of the bathroom and you followed the trail of laughter that soon came after to the closed door of dick’s bedroom. as if a ghost possessed you, your steps were hollow in its lead and your stomach churned when you heard another laugh, almost flinching because it’s not dick’s. it was a laughter of cushion, soft and pliant in response to dick’s own jokes and laughter that would follow up with it.

nothing could ruin your anniversary.

your heart raced as you stood still, faced to the door, but your arm is extended as your hand took an unwilling grasp to the doorknob.

nothing could ruin your anniversary.

the sweat that you washed yourself off of prior returned, brimmed at your hairline, and your hands began clamming up. it ran down your temple now and you breathed—you tried.

cue for another laugh.

it only took a glimpse for you to feel tremors course through your heart, but you pushed the door open despite so, as if you intended to hurt even more—to break yourself. when dick and the stranger’s eyes turned to meet yours, the sound of an earthquake splitting your heart into two, four, eight, came after.

“y/n- fuck, i can explain.”

at first, the pair of bodies stuck together like glue. dick’s arms were wrapped around the stranger’s waist like he would to yours and the doting gaze that you two once shared, is reflected with someone else—cherished with someone else.

but they split—only split—when you surveyed them with a wavering gaze. you weren’t sure where to look at. unspoken words—profanities—lodged in your throat as you overwhelmed yourself upon analyzing everything. the half-naked bodies that they once held, the panicked expressions that replaced adoration, the frantic scatterings of feet and hands to separate themselves—as if they were strangers, complete strangers.

silence came after, darkness too when you shut your teary eyes to breathe as best as you could. a cold draft touched you and your ears picked up on quick footsteps that would soon exit the apartment.

“y/n…”

there was silence then. you opened your eyes and see dick, closer, clothed, and distraught. your throat held swelling anger, sadness, hurt, all you could imagine, but you simply croaked. “…why?”

dick’s arms wrapped around you, strong and quick as he usually does when you cried. but this time, you want to escape from the embrace that you once loved and yearned for after a long day of work.

but you don’t because you’re conflicted. you always told him that you felt safe in his arms and shamefully, you still do, even when your heart has been broken into a million pieces, swelled until it began staggering your breath, your whimpers, and your eventual sobs.

you cried into his shoulder, repeating the same question. “why?”

you wished you had something more profound to say, to scream at him. but you don’t because you’re overwhelmed with emotions that could only be casted out with another lament. your arms were too weak to push him away, and you’ve always matched his strength, but you can’t. they’re limp at your sides now, hands petal-veined as you balled them into fists and dug your nails into your skin, as if dick’s flesh was in the palm of your hands.

i hate you. i hate you so much.

and dick’s palm cradled your head, pushing you as close to his body because this will be the very last time he can selfishly hold you like this—loved and treasured.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he stammered.

“i’m so sorry…”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works.

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bunnyreaper · 2 months

Text

wc - 4.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), age gap (older male younger female), bodyguard!au, threat of violence.

notes - another visit to dilfville, a new series, because that's all we need, right? lol. hope you enjoy ♥

Friday nights meant one thing: unwinding after a long week of working in your home office, braving the outside world, and heading to the comfy flat belonging to your friend Jules.

While visiting her place was always a blast, Friday nights were for DnD. Leaving behind Earth for its fantasy counterpart and getting lost in the adventures of your group's merry band of do-gooders.

Saturdays are usually spent drinking coffee, frequenting markets, and then rounding the night off with cocktails and dancing. (And Sunday's recuperating from being up on your feet all night, spending the day in bed reading whatever trashy romance novel is next on your reading list.)

Your weekends are your sanctuary—your freedom from routine and work is your refuge.

You dance around your bedroom, rocking your hips to the music as you pull on your clothes—a white blouse and black bustier to channel the vibes of your character Elora.

When the doorbell rings, it's entirely unexpected. Anyone close to you knows you're just a few minutes away from heading out for the night—maybe it's a neighbour, you suppose to yourself as you head to the door.

On the other side of your flat's door is an incredibly handsome man. Broad framed, ruggedly good-looking yet with a finely pressed white shirt and dress trousers. His features are striking, strong eyes and a brow slashed with a scar, stubble all over, and a neatly trimmed mohawk that strangely suits him. All in all, a sight for fucking sore eyes, standing so confidently and casually in your doorway like he belongs.

You hate how your eyes linger on his form far longer than they probably should, but the handsome stranger is just so enthralling.

"Hello?" You mumble, a little absent-mindedly, as you try to gather thoughts that aren't just lewd and dirty.

His stormy blue eyes meet yours, his cheek tugs into a half-smile that definitely doesn't meet his eyes, the faintest dimple appearing on his left cheek. "John MacTavish, ye maw sent me."

"Oh, the bodyguard." You reply dumbly. Fuck. If you were opposed to the idea before, you certainly were now... or maybe you're not.

On one hand, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you—on the other, you have to have a handsome stranger watching over you, while you act normal about the entire thing.

You realise that you're acting completely the fool, so you snap out of your thoughts and step aside to allow the older man inside. "She didn't tell me to expect you... probably thought I'd run. Uh, come in."

"Thanks." He nods as he steps through the threshold, ducking slightly as he does.

Once inside, his eyes scan over the open-plan space of your living area, seemingly taking in every little detail.

You watch him, sensing that his training and experience make him focus on the minute particulars of a room that others would completely skip over.

Your mother had already clued you into the fact there might need to be security enhancements to the flat itself, and you assume those requests came at the behest of the man himself. He seems to be lost in evaluating what these might be.

"So, what can I do for you?" You ask, filling the air with some sort of conversation starter. You have no idea what you're doing in this situation on the whole, but especially not when it comes to hiring, negotiating with, and retaining a bodyguard.

"It's what I can do fer you." He turns, taking you in now, and you start to feel self-conscious about having too many buttons undone, too much chest on show.

Something tells you that MacTavish's gaze would make you squirm regardless—his eyes carrying a heaviness to them that seem like a fantastic attribute in a protector. Surely anyone who would even think about coming close to cause you harm would reconsider under his harsh look.

You start to wrack your brains for what he can actually do for you. Again, you have no familiarity in having personal protection, beyond what you've seen your mother undergo. Your work is fairly stable, you keep the same routine, and the biggest threat you ever seem to face is the creeps in the club.

Well, apart from the online threats, but something about the anonymous, cowardly messages doesn't frighten you.

"If I'm being honest,I don't exactly want a bodyguard. I don't see much of a point?" You admit, voice a little quiet. After all, you don't mean to upset or offend the man, but you're not sure he isn't just wasting his time with this job.

He squints, considering for a moment before he answers. "Yer maw sees things differently."

She does, and that's probably the only reason you agreed to go through with this in the first place. You don't want to worry her, especially since her own security has had to be tightened due to said threats.

"Yeah, she's really worried."

John's brows furrow, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Aye, rightly so, considering everything."

He seems serious and said severity gives you pause for thought. His job is to assess and protect against threats, so surely he wouldn't be here, acting the way he is were there not a valid reason for concern. The thought makes a lump form in your throat, makes your stomach twist in a way you'd rather not acknowledge.

You try to cope with it the best way you know how—humour.

"Eh, online threats are nothing new for a girl my age, you know? And it's not like I'm anyone important." You shrug it off, hoping that if you say the words aloud, they'll just come true. As you speak, your phone chimes with a notification from your group chat, reminding you of your upcoming plans—and the fact you're going to have to abandon this little meeting. "Uh, I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm leaving soon."

"Don't drink it anyway, but thanks." The man smiles slightly, before turning away once more and scanning the room. He cranes his neck to get a look down the hallway, leading to your bedroom and bathroom. "There's a difference between lads online, an' the kinda people that make up extremist groups like those targeting your maw and her party."

"Really?" You laugh, a short, sharp sound that betrays your discomfort. You grab your jacket and keys by the door, desperate for something to fiddle with. "Thought they were all just sad loners, desperately searching for something to make them feel better."

"Except some of them have connections, dangerous connections."

There are a million and one reasons you don't want to go through with this, and very few urging you to. Though, removing a major worry from your mother's life is a big one—John MacTavish's gorgeous blues are another. The possible invasion of privacy lingers in your head, the worry that your father might be using this as an opportunity to have the inside track on your life, on all the things you don't tell your parents. Your mind also revolts at the idea of unnecessary restrictions to your plans, your friends being held under a magnifying glass.

The thought of the threats being real is the only thing more startling. You sigh, resigning yourself to your fate. "If this is what will help her feel better, then I guess I better find a way to make this work."

He nods firmly, joining you at where you hover nervously at the door. "I'd agree."

"Unfortunately, you arrived at the worst possible time, because like I said, I'm just headed out. Can't miss the tube." You force a tight-lipped smile, making your excuse to leave—the thought of being late makes you jittery, the thought of being late continuing this difficult conversation makes you feel worse.

"Where ye going?" He asks, head tilted.

You know it's the first question of many. Where are you going? Who are you going with? The atmosphere already feels a little stifling, the relationship a little strained. You and John aren't friends, never will be friends. He's here to do a job, watch over you, and take your security very, very seriously.

"This is how it's always going to be?" You ask, the question coming out a little snappier than you intend it to.

John takes it in stride, unblinking in the face of your shortness, and yet unrelenting in his need for information. "Aye."

Once more, you sigh. "Right... I'm going to my weekly DnD game at my friend's house, and please, I really don't wanna cancel." You plead, feeling like a child reasoning with their parents rather than two adults on equal footing. You hate the feeling, even if you know his intentions are pure.

"How many friends?" He asks.

"4." You answer instantly.

"How long have ye known them?" His questioning continues, and his focus on the people you trust naturally drives you up the wall, even if again, you know it's just his job.

Your grasp on your keys tightens, your agitation growing. "I'll tell you whatever I can some other time, but please, I hate being late." You gesture to the door, indicating that it's time for him and you to leave.

John grabs the door, opening it for you and allowing you to step through before he does. As you turn to lock the door, you expect him to arrange another time and to bid you farewell, but he doesn't. "I'll drive ye. Dinnae bother arguing, lass."

His words have a finality to them that quiets you anyway, but the use of 'lass' renders you all but speechless.

"Okay..." You mumble, leading the way down the stairs as his hand comes to ghost along your lower back.

MacTavish’s vehicle is parked out in the street, and as you approach the car, you can feel his eyes searching again. He beats you to the car, a sleek black Range Rover, opening the door for you before climbing inside himself.

The action would be nice under any other circumstance, and such propriety is something you're probably going to have to get used to, but right now it just reinforces the annoying, infantilising feeling that you're currently suffering through.

As you give your friend's address to John, he takes off without another word, flicking on the car stereo before he goes. The atmosphere is thick, stifling, and you can only hope that in time the feeling will lessen, especially if your mother makes him a permanent feature.

On the way over, he picks up his questioning where he left off. "So, how long have you known this group?"

"A good few years, since uni."

"We can go over names and details when you're ready."

You take a deep breath, holding it in and then forcing yourself to calm a little. Instead, you try to focus on watching John, the diligent way he drives. "I'm assuming you have a long list of things we'll need to go over."

His eyes don't stray from you. "Aye, that we do."

The two of you fall into tense silence for the rest of the drive, nothing but the music and the sound of the car to keep you company. In the quiet street your friend lives on, John pulls in to park on the opposite side of the road, killing the engine and the radio, making the silence almost deafening.

Your nerves are getting the better of you again, and yet John seems so comfortable, unperturbed by the awkwardness. You're unsure what comes next, what to say.

"Not to be rude but, I'd prefer if you didn't come in." You utter, saying the first thing that springs to mind, despite it probably not being the best thing either. You flash the man an apologetic smile before you continue. "I don't know how to deal with all this, especially when we haven't agreed on how all this is gonna work?"

You hope your earnest admission makes up for your temporary ill-manners.

"Tha's fine, I'll stay here." He looks completely impassive. "Not ideal, but it'll do."

He doesn't look bothered by the inconvenience, and you suppose you should assuage him of the idea it's going to be a quick visit.

"Really? I'll be gone for a few hours."

His brow quirks. "Yer maw paid upfront, so as far as am concerned, my job's already started." Once more, his statement is absolute, and you don't bother trying to argue.

"Right then."

John is out of the car first, headed straight to your side of the door, checking left and right before he opens to let you out.

The action makes you both laugh and curse, perplexed by the deed as you climb out. "You're not my driver, you know you don't need to open the door for me?"

He laughs too, derisive and short as he closes the door a little too sharply. "Not tae be rude, but I believe the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."

"Gonna walk me to the door?" You ask, trying to shed yourself of your nerves and make the situation lighter.

You can't stay tense and subdued for the entire duration of this relationship—besides, now you're moments away from reuniting with the others in Albion Vale and forgetting all about this mess for a few hours. That alone is enough to raise your spirits.

John forces a cheeky, tight-lipped smile, the crow's feet at his eyes crinkling almost condescendingly. "Not feeling tha' gentlemanly anymore. I'm sure ye'll be fine."

"I'm sure." You make your way halfway across the road, before coming to a realisation, stopping and turning. "Oh, what's your number, you know, make this whole thing easier?"

John darts out, his arm falling just beside you as he ushers you across the road and onto the other side.

"Pass yer phone." He says, holding out a large, rough hand expectantly.

"Right, yeah." You nod, probably more than is necessary, as you pass your phone over to the man.

John takes the phone more softly than you expect, typing in his name and number before holding it back out for you to take. "I'll be here when yer done, to take ye home."

"Uh, thank you." You take the phone, before walking away sheepishly heading into your friend's block of flats and toward her apartment.

With each step you take, you try to push John and the threats and everything to do with the outside world far, far out of your brain.

The night passes by in a flurry of laughter and fun, lost in the adventures of Albion Vale and the antics of your party.

The session wraps up, and while you would usually be in no rush to head back—you know you can't sit around and leave John, however much a stranger he is, sitting in the car outside.

You text him to let him know you're headed down in five, and when you make it to the street less than 3 minutes later, he is there, leaning against the car door waiting for you.

"Thank you." You whisper, climbing inside. When John joins you in the car, he scrubs at his eyes before putting the key in the ignition. "Have you not been bored out of your mind?"

"Nothing I'm not used to." He replies instantly, pulling away before you can ask any further.

"What did you do before this?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

From your understanding, most bodyguards cut their teeth in the police or the armed forces, and have tonnes of experience under their belt.

John oozes an ex-forces demeanour–his perfect posture, constant alertness, and the scars littering his skin.

It'd be hard not to notice, but becomes immediately obvious with the way your eyes seem to love settling upon him when they can. You have to force yourself to squash down the drunken, misguided lust that flares within you as you watch his large hands on the steering wheel and notice his veiny, hairy, and muscular forearms.

"Army, Captain." He answers, pulling your attention back to him in a more professional manner properly.

Something within the way he speaks makes you think there's more to the story—though you suppose with that kind of background, he has a cache of secrets and tales that he can never really share.

"Oh." You nod, feeling a little soothed. If you have to be protected, you suppose someone with his level of experience is the best man for the job. "I'm in good hands then."

Once more, he flashes a forced half-smile. "Aye."

A moment passes, and you find more questions bubbling to the front of your brain. Naturally, you're curious about this man who is undoubtedly going to become a big part of your life from now on, but the fact that his nature is a little reserved makes your curiosity multiply. You've long been a sucker for closed-off older men—call it a character flaw.

"Why did you leave the army? If you don't mind me asking."

There's a beat of silence where you think he might not answer, but eventually, he does, eyes still fixed on the road.

"Medical reasons. Nothing that affects my ability to do this job." He rushes to add, a slight spark of defensiveness flashing through as his jaw visibly tightens.

You're no expert detective, and you haven't seen your protector in action, but your first guess is that whatever ailment made him leave isn't entirely physical. The fact he's been somewhat open about it puts your mind at ease, the fact that your mother has clearly vetted him even more so.

You offer an empathetic smile that he likely doesn't see. "I don't doubt it."

The drive home passes quicker and easier with a bit of mead in your veins, allowing you to loosen up enough to hum along to the music playing from John's speakers. The little buzz passing through you alleviates that sense of trepidation you felt earlier, luring you into a false sense of security.

When the car pulls up and John lets you out, you know just what to say what needs to come next. "Well, I guess you should come in so we can formalise things."

"I'd appreciate it." He nods, before turning back to the car to grab a bag and follow you into the building.

You and John sit at your kitchen island, tea in your hand and coffee in John's—a neat, stapled stack of papers sits before you.

"Here's the contract I signed with ye maw, but she's given us some wiggle room." John says, tapping the top of the paper where the bold letters of CLOSE PROTECTION AGREEMENT — 141 SECURITY sit.

"Nice of her to allow me a say, if I'm honest." You laugh dryly—you love your mother dearly, but you'd be lying if you said she wasn't overbearing. Your initial protests about this whole arrangement had been entirely shut down, and clearly, she didn't trust you to follow through considering she sprung John on you tonight, unannounced.

"I'm sure she just wants what's best for ye." John offers as you flick through the pages.

The contract outlines the agreement between the Guard and The Principal—with stipulations on activities, compensation, and conduct.

It's weird seeing it all laid out on paper, seeing the hefty cost of John's services, and the fact you'll be giving this man free access to your home and life. All of this to keep you safe from some nebulous threats that have not even been acted upon.

"She does, but this is inconvenient, and frustrating to say the least." You purposefully choose not to include the words 'fucking annoying' and 'torturing me with a hot man I can't have', though your next conversation with your therapist will absolutely include such descriptions and more.

"I can understand tha'." He nods understandingly, before raising his coffee and taking a sip—his gaze unwavering as he does. "You've never had close protection before?"

You shake your head. "No, this is all new to me."

"Okay. We'll start by discussing exactly what kind of protection you're looking for. Part of tha' will be dictated by what yer maw laid out, like I said, we can decide specifics."

"Sounds like a plan." You lean back in your stool, tea in hand as you contemplate. Admittedly, you should have done some research before this, but in your defence, you did think you had more time. You're not entirely sure what boundaries you can set—but you hope that John can lead the process a little. "I don't think I can do something 24/7, and it's not like you can stay here, I guess."

You cringe internally thinking about how fucking awkward that would be—your tipsy brain supplies the image of the world's most uncomfortable sleepover.

In your imagination, John looks grumpy and uncomfortable, still tucked up in bed in that stiff shirt with his boots still on. You are, of course, in little fluffy bunny pyjamas staring at him all gooey-eyed whilst he tries to pretend everything is normal. It takes conscious effort for you not to giggle at the mental image.

"I understand. I'd suggest I escort you anywhere outside these four walls, day or night, work and social events. Conduct security checks on your flat, vet close contacts, update your digital security, things like tha'." John supplies a rundown of potential actions like it's a grocery list, yet a very severe grocery list. His collected nature does put you more at ease.

"Sounds a tad invasive."

"I'll try to make it as little as possible."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You smile slightly, truly thankful for his consideration and tact.

You give John a once over, thoughts once again ticking over. "If you're going to be with me everywhere, you can't walk around like that, outside of my work, that is. No offense, it's just, all my friends are gonna think I'm a self-important twat if I start showing up everywhere with some posh bodyguard." You stop abruptly, realising how much you're bloody rambling.

"Am far from posh. But, more casual look then, aye?"

You smile a little nervously, hoping you haven't completely offended the man. "Please."

This whole situation is beyond difficult to navigate—untreaded paths, forging new relationships, balancing existing ones. Your friends really are going to think this whole situation is beyond bizarre. They already find amusement in seeing your mother on the news. Having a bodyguard is going to leave you subject to endless teasing, relentless mocking, and attempts to make your and John's life a whole lot harder.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub at the sockets of your eyes, undoubtedly smearing your makeup and making a mess of your face. It'll get easier, you reassure yourself.

With your eyes closed and pressed into the heel of your hands, you don't see the way John's expression softens or the way he moves closer to comfort you before hesitating and stopping short. "Wha's the matter?"

"I'm just... incredibly anxious about how this is going to play out with my friends, with work."

John leaps into problem-solving mode, immediately pulling from his brain some words to soothe you, as well as making note of what bumps in the road to smooth out. "Ye mother said she already consulted yer work, and they're fine to make accommodations."

Of course, she'd already talked to David about the whole thing. "So it'll be fine aside from all the gossip it will cause."

"It's politics and I ken yer not naïve, everybody's talking anyway, no?" He offers, and yet you don't seem assuaged, so he tries a different tactic. "It's my job to blend in. They'll barely notice me."

"With that haircut? Sorry." You giggle—surprisingly you find the mohawk suits his rugged look, but it certainly isn't something you've seen on a man that wasn't walking the streets of Camden. Though, even with a more fitting haircut, the man is so casually striking and ever so slightly imposing that he just naturally draws attention. "In general, you don't strike me as a man who does blending in well, not in civilian life anyway."

His eyes narrow for a moment, before he struggles to fight off a smirk. "Hmm, ye might have a point. Not changing ma hair though, sorry. Nae sure ye family has enough money for tha' one."

His more playful side makes your heart soar, and gives you hope that everything might just be alright.

"I have a crazy idea." Okay, maybe you're more tipsy than you thought you were, as your brain supplies an outlandish plot and your mouth runs away with it.

His eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. John MacTavish seems like a man who likes crazy ideas. "Go oan."

"I'll tell my friends that you're my boyfriend, and we're just so madly in love that you have to come everywhere with me. Means no real questions."

Your proposition is met with deafening silence, despite the huge, encouraging grin on your face.

John laughs, just the once, before his expression hardens. "Not a chance, lass."

"Why? You don't have to really do anything. Besides, it'll save you sitting outside in the car, or staring from the shadows and making everyone feel uncomfortable."

You realise now that while you noticed a distinct lack of a ring, there's the possibility that John is still attached, and what you're suggesting is wildly inappropriate—but it's not that point he argues on.

"Aye, so I just have to spend ma time socialising instead." He scoffs.

"Well, surely you're not brooding and mysterious all the time." You wager.

Once more, he finds a smirk tugging at his lips that he can't hold back. "No' at all, but it's been a long time since I was the life of the party, and something tells me that me an' your DnD friends don't have a lot in common."

"They might surprise you, but you also might surprise yourself. Maybe you're a secret nerd." You wink, still being jovial before you shift back to your genuine pleas. "It'll make my life a whole lot easier and be one less thing for me to stress about. My friends wouldn't second guess the story much once they got past the shock of me bagging someone older, wiser, and oh-so-handsome. Please."

You flash your softest, sweetest doe eyes and lay the compliments on extra thick in the hopes of swaying him. In the political world, you're used to using charm to try and get what you want, and know that without charisma you'd get nowhere. Perhaps it's a bit low of you to stoop to using flirtation on someone who could likely run rings around you when it comes to negotiation, but it's worked before, and at this point, you're desperate.

John straightens up in his seat, eyes you for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine."

The fact he relents honestly takes you a little by surprise. You're relieved, but yes, surprised. "Huh?"

"Fine, I'll be whoever ye want me to be..." The look in his eyes shifts to something imperceptible, as he leans over the counter closer to you. "As long ye listen to what I say when it comes to yer safety and security. Deal?"

He holds out his hand, and your own feels dwarfed when you reach out to take his calloused palm.

"You drive a hard bargain, John MacTavish. Deal." You shake, and neither of you makes a move to immediately let go.

"Aye, a know." He winks, and the action makes your heart skip a beat, your cheeks flood with heat.

Each second passes slowly, his touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You know at that moment that life from now on is going to be especially difficult as long as John is around.

What he says next is the final nail in that particular coffin. "Would've done it anyway, but glad I got ye to agree to ma terms, lass."

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #bunny writes #run to you

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reasonsforhope · 8 months

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"New Mexico will establish a permanent absentee voter list and remove barriers to voting on tribal lands under sweeping legislation signed into law Thursday [March 30, 2023] by Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham.

The measure also will automate voter registration during certain Motor Vehicle Division transactions and more quickly restore the voting rights of people exiting prison after a felony conviction. It was supported this year by Democratic legislative leaders and Lujan Grisham, a Democrat, after a similar measure died in the final moments of the 2022 session amid a GOP filibuster...

Republican lawmakers fiercely opposed the bill this year, too, contending automatic voter registration and other measures aren't necessary in a state that already allows same-day registration. But advocates of the legislation, House Bill 4, celebrated Thursday [March 30, 2023] as Lujan Grisham signed the bill during a ceremony at the Capitol with Secretary of State Maggie Toulouse Oliver; House Speaker Javier Martínez, D-Albuquerque; and others.

Native American leaders described it as critical step toward protecting the voting rights of people on tribal land, especially those without a traditional mailing address. [More details in/moved to the last key point!]

In a signing ceremony at the Capitol, Lujan Grisham said the legislation would serve as a template for other states. "We want to send a message to the rest of the country — that this is what voting access and protection should look like," the governor said...

Absentee voting: Sign up once

The legislation calls for a permanent absentee voter list to be available in time for the 2024 elections. Voters could sign up once to get absentee ballots mailed to them before every statewide election. People on the list would also get notices mailed to them seven weeks before Election Day. Any election-related mail returned to the county clerk as undeliverable would trigger the voters' removal from the absentee list.

Automated voter registration

Automatic voter registration during some transactions at MVD [DMV] offices — such as when a person presents documents proving citizenship while applying for a driver's license — would begin in July 2025. Newly registered voters would be told they've been added to the voter rolls and that they'll get a postcard in the mail allowing them to decline the registration. For MVD customers already registered to vote, their address would be updated in the voting rolls if they renew their driver's license with a different address.

Restoration of rights

The legislation will restore the voting rights of felons when they leave custody rather than after they complete probation or parole. Inmates would be granted the chance to register or update their registration before release. The Sentencing Project, an advocacy group, estimated the measure will restore the voting rights of more than 11,000 citizens.

New holiday

The bill makes Election Day a school holiday.

Drop boxes

The legislation requires each county to have at least two secured, monitored boxes for people to drop off absentee ballots. State election officials are empowered to waive the requirement or grant requests for additional containers, depending on the circumstances of each county.

Native American voting

The proposal establishes a Native American Voting Rights Act.

[Moved here from earlier in the article]

The measure requires collaboration with pueblos, nations and tribes on establishing polling places, early voting locations and precinct boundaries. It also allows members to register to vote or receive absentee ballots at official tribal buildings — a necessity, supporters said, for residents who don't receive mail at home. "It is truly monumental reform," said Ahtza Chavez, executive director of NM Native Vote and a member of the Kewa Pueblo and Diné Nation. "It requires collaboration with tribes at all levels.""

-via Albuquerque Journal, March 30, 2023

#new mexico #voting rights #voting matters #united states #us politics #good news #american politics #voting #election 2024 #native american #indigenous rights #first nations #felon voting #election day #lujan grisham #michelle lujan grisham #hope #hope posting #elections

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redjaybathood · 2 months

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This is very important. In Crimea, russians, again, start to use fake criminal investigations to incarcerate Crimean Tatars. This is not new - but it is the new mass wave of searches on trumped-up charges and arrests.

Translation of the thread below.

1/9 Mass searches in Crimea

10 Crimean Tatar families. 10 homes, where russian "security forces" broke into at dawn. What do we know about the newe wave of mass searches on the Crimean peninsula?

2/9 4 activists of "Crimean Solidarity", Bakhchysarai, as well as 6 religion leaders and activists from Dzhankoy district, became victims of the rampage of the occupatoinal forces.

Among them, the former Imam Remzi Kurtnezirov, who has a severe disability.

3/9 "Security forces" behaved themselves very rudely, despite the presence of elderly and small children.

Over the course of the searches, they took documents, tech, and literature. Moreover, the relatieves of the detained people state that the books were planted.

4/9 FSB agents, when asked by the relatives, replied that they are looking for weapons and illicit chemicals.

The men are charged with Article 205.5 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation - the same one that the Hizb ut-Tahrir cases are fabricated under.

5/9 After the searches, Crimean Tatars were taken to FSB HQ in Simferopol.

Currently, some of them were allowed a lawyer but the pre-trial detention measure was not choosen yet.

6/9 Names of the detained: Rustem Osmanov, Aziz Azizov, Memet Lumanov, Mustafa Abduramanov, Remzi Kurtnezirov, Vakhid Mustafayev, Ali Mamutov, Arsen Kashka, Enver Khalilayev, Nariman Ametov

7/9

According to preliminary information, this is the third largest wave of searches on the alleged involvement in Hizb ut-Tahrir.

The most massive searches took place in March 2019, when 24 Crimean Tatars were targeted.

8/9 CrimeaSOS analyst Yevhen Yaroshenko notes that detentions in the "Hizb ut-Tahrir cases" in Crimea are intensified approximately once every six months.

This is due to the targeted plan for certain categories of "cases" that intelligence officers have to fulfill.

9/9 Repressions against Crimean Tatars are one of the principles of russia's criminal policy on the peninsula.

In order to stop the occupiers, we must respond firmly to every manifestation of lawlessness and effectively oppose it

#Crimea #Crimean Tatars #russia is a terrorist state

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broodingheroine · 2 months

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tmagp7 thoughts

WRESTLING WITH TAPE RECORDERS AND MANILA FOLDERS??? immediately with the references wtf

celia don't be curious abt the computers

CELIA STOP BEING WEIRD

she def knows who's in the computers

SHES LISTING THE FEARS WHAT THE FUCK

"you won't need to know about tma to enjoy tmagp" yeah okay what the fuck is this then

HILLTOP?

is derek chambers a name I should remember. check this later.

can't remember his name 👀

shouting human face? wtf

also lol bumbling new volunteer who has nothing on his resume but is punctual and hardworking. not martin coded at all.

another name they can't remember

lowkey giving the anatomy students episode of tma

BEARSKIN RUG??? SKIN????

the items are definitely cursed right

more forgotten names and lost paperwork 🤨

it's REALLY giving anatomy students

taxidermy. hm.

also kind of breekon and hope taking over breekon and hope vibes

so hoarding

GUNSHOTS????

fire..... hilltop....... hmmmm.........

security organization.......

THE VOICE THREW YOU

CELIAAAAA YOU KNOWWWW

THOUGHT YOU RECOGNIZED IT AAAAA

SHES TOTALLY FROM THE EYEPOCALYPSE

colin :)

JON???? FUCKING JON????????? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

the real stuff???? what the fuck colin

colin ur paranoia is showing

COLIN WHAT THE FUCK

go gwen! blackmail ur boss!

SHE SHOT HIM?

oh he's not dead? ohhhhhh

SHE GOT PAID TO KILL A GUY?

GWEN WHAT SOURCE WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

bouchards old money confirmation?

REAL WORK?

EXTERNALS LIASON? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

NOW I HAVE TO WAIT A WEEK??????????

god okay so

is the oiar secretly the security team that burned the hilltop place down? that's obviously what the external liason will be right. but then what would the response department end up being?

colin is devolving extremely quickly and im deeply upset about it. no "outside" electronics. as opposed to...?

once again: EMAIL FROM JON???? what did it say. what was it about.

"you don't need to know anything about tma to listen to tmagp" yeah BULLSHIT like I'm sure you don't NEED it but it certainly HELPS

gwen going to lena is giving the archival crew confronting elias abt murdering leitner except gwen has dubious morals and is unapologetically in it for her own gain

which I do appreciate. a protagonist who's willing to admit she's in it for herself and nothing else? love.

I do question whether the oiar office work is done purely as a front for whatever lena is bringing gwen into or if it does actually serve a purpose.

like I said up there somewhere, celia is definitely a transplant from the tma verse. there's no way she's not.

okay I think I'm done? that was a lot..... like a lot a lot

so I think I'm gonna go lay down and die now

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmagp 7 #tmagp 7 spoilers #tmagp thoughts

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probablyasocialecologist · 2 months

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According to documents obtained by Grist and Type Investigations through a Freedom of Information Act request, the FBI’s Minneapolis office opened a counterterrorism assessment in February 2012, focusing on actions in South Dakota, that continued for at least a year and may have led to the opening of additional investigations. These documents reveal that the FBI was monitoring activists involved in the Keystone XL campaign about a year earlier than previously known. Their contents suggest that, long before the Keystone and Dakota Access pipelines became national flashpoints, the federal government was already developing a sweeping law enforcement strategy to counter any acts of civil disobedience aimed at preventing fossil fuel extraction. And young, Native activists were among its first targets. “The threat emerging … is evolving into one based on opposition to energy exploration related to any extractions from the earth, rather than merely targeting one project and/or one company,” the FBI noted in its description of the Wanblee blockade. The 15-page file, which is heavily redacted, also describes Native American groups as a potentially dangerous threat and likens them to “environmental extremists” whose actions, according to the FBI, could lead to violence. The FBI acknowledged that Native American groups were engaging in constitutionally protected activity, including attending public hearings, but emphasized that this sort of civic participation might spawn criminal activity. To back up its claims, the FBI cited a 2011 State Department hearing on the pipeline in Pierre, South Dakota, attended by a small group of Native activists. The FBI said the individuals were dressed in camouflage and had covered their faces with red bandanas, “train robber style.” According to the report, they were also carrying walking sticks and shaking sage, claiming to be “Wounded Knee Security of/for Mother Earth.” “The Bureau is uncertain how the NA group(s) will act initially or subsequently if the project is approved,” the agency wrote. The FBI also singled out the “Native Youth Movement,” which it described as a mix between a “radical militia and a survivalist group.” In doing so, it appeared to conflate a specific activist group originally founded in Canada in the 1990s with the broader array of young Native activists who opposed the pipeline decades later. Young activists would play an important role in the Keystone XL campaign and later on during protests against the Dakota Access pipeline at Standing Rock, but the movement had little in common with militias or survivalists, terms typically used to describe far-right groups or those seeking to disengage from society. The FBI declined to respond to questions for this story. In an emailed statement, a spokesperson for the Minneapolis field office said the agency does not typically comment on FOIA releases and “lets the information contained in the files speak for itself.”

[...]

Environmental activists and attorneys who reviewed the new documents told Grist and Type Investigations that law enforcement’s approach to the Keystone XL campaign looked like a template for the increasingly militarized response to subsequent environmental and social justice campaigns — from efforts to block the Dakota Access pipeline at Standing Rock to the ongoing protests against the police training center dubbed “Cop City” in Atlanta, Georgia, which would require razing at least 85 acres of urban forest. The FBI’s working thesis, outlined in the new documents, that “most environmental extremist groups” have historically moved from peaceful protest to violence has served as the basis for subsequent investigations. “It’s astonishing to me how such a broad concept basically paints every activist and protester as a future terrorist,” said Mike German, a former FBI special agent who is now a fellow at the nonprofit Brennan Center for Justice.

#FBI #climate change #fossil fuels #dakota access pipeline #keystone xl pipeline #surveillance

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servantofthefates · 1 year

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Tarot Card Meanings for Career & Finances

A career question is just like any other query, so you may use any spread you like. I prefer the Celtic Cross, so I can see everything and everyone: the querent, their colleagues and their boss. It all boils down to accurate interpreting. Here are some tried and tested career meanings.

THE MAJOR ARCANA

The Fool – A new career path

The Magician – Living your dream career

The High Priestess – You already know the answer

The Empress – Ultimate financial abundance

The Emperor – Higher-ups favoring you

The Hierophant – Long-term job security

The Lovers – Two career paths to choose from

The Chariot – Progress leading to success

Strength – Hurdles will need to be overcome

The Hermit – Solo proprietorship

The Wheel of Fortune – Major windfall

Justice – Large-scale layoffs

The Hanged Man – Taking a sabbatical

Death – Major career change

Temperance – Breaking even

The Devil – Workaholism

The Tower – Bankruptcy

The Star – Getting a promotion

The Moon – Misunderstanding with superiors

The Sun – Career fulfillment

Judgement – Your true calling

The World – Being admired for your work

THE SUIT OF WANDS

Ace of Wands – Exciting new job

Two of Wands – Strategic thinking

Three of Wands – Everything as scheduled

Four of Wands – Stable job

Five of Wands – Conflict with colleagues

Six of Wands – Successful project

Seven of Wands – Being opposed at work

Eight of Wands – Overlapping deadlines

Nine of Wands – Crisis management

Ten of Wands – Busy period ahead

Page of Wands – Young entrepreneur

Knight of Wands – Athlete; fitness expert

Queen of Wands – Big name in start-ups/sports (female)

King of Wands – Big name in start-ups/sports (male)

THE SUIT OF CUPS

Ace of Cups – New job you love

Two of Cups – Office romance

Three of Cups – Work friends

Four of Cups – Boring job; job you hate

Five of Cups – A death in the workplace

Six of Cups – Going back to a former job

Seven of Cups – Applying at various companies

Eight of Cups – Leaving a job willingly

Nine of Cups – Receiving praise at work

Ten of Cups – Work that makes your family proud

Page of Cups – Young writer

Knight of Cups – Actor; director

Queen of Cups – Big name in the film/creative industry (female)

King of Cups – Big name in the film/creative industry (male)

THE SUIT OF SWORDS

Ace of Swords – A new job that is meant for you

Two of Swords – Having two offers to choose from

Three of Swords – Receiving harsh criticism at work

Four of Swords – Working from home/flexible hours

Five of Swords – Rivalry at work

Six of Swords – Business trip

Seven of Swords – Corporate theft

Eight of Swords – Working out of necessity

Nine of Swords – Stressful job

Ten of Swords – Toxic workplace

Page of Swords – Rumors at work

Knight of Swords – Violence/abuse at work

Queen of Swords – Ruthless boss (female)

King of Swords – Ruthless boss (male)

THE SUIT OF PENTACLES

Ace of Pentacles – New job that pays well

Two of Pentacles – Work-life balance

Three of Pentacles – Teamwork

Four of Pentacles – Subpar pay; downsizing

Five of Pentacles – Getting fired/laid off

Six of Pentacles – Unexpected bonus

Seven of Pentacles – Long-term investments/results

Eight of Pentacles – Passion for work

Nine of Pentacles – Self-made man/woman

Ten of Pentacles – Lasting wealth

Page of Pentacles – Intern; entry-level employee

Knight of Pentacles – Honest hard worker

Queen of Pentacles – Generous boss (female)

King of Pentacles – Generous boss (male)

#Tarot tips #Tarot meanings #Witch tips #Tarot #servantofthefates #Witchblr #Divination #Fortunetelling #All About Tarot

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nonbinaryspy · 7 months

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Ike/Soren Meta: The Little Things

In (belated) honor of the IkeSoren Week Encore prompt for canon scenes, I wanted to highlight some of my favorite less obvious interactions. These are moments outside their supports/base convos/death quotes/endings that nonetheless feel personal or significant. Some even require variables like other units dying. This isn’t an exhaustive list, but I sure did have a lot of thoughts on it all, so this post is very long.

First up: moments in early PoR that establish their initial dynamic and characterization.

Ch 4

If Shinon is alive (Normal or Easy mode)

Shinon: “All right, Ike. Let’s see how you handle the role of captain. Well? What are your orders, boy? We’ll do what you say, so long as you hurry up and spit it out!” Ike: “I know, I know! I’m thinking! Give me a moment, will you, Shinon?” Shinon: “Bah. Useless! We’d be better led with Mist than this soft, untested whelp.” Ike: “Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. Soren and Rhys are vulnerable, so we have to protect them from enemy attacks…Right?” Soren: “That’s a sound strategy, Ike. I can attack from behind your defenses. Good thinking.” Ike: “Do you mean that? Um…all right! Let’s do that then.”

This is obviously meant as a hint to new players, but it’s also introducing the team dynamics when Ike is put in charge for the first time. Shinon is clearly derisive, which makes it stand out more that Soren jumps to compliment Ike, especially when he himself is usually more negative. Ike in turn seems surprised and happy to receive a compliment from him. Shortly before this, we saw Ike doubting why his father would put him in charge and not feeling up to the task, and later in the game we’ll see him expressing how much he appreciates Soren’s bluntness and objectivity because it means he can trust his word. So, Soren’s encouragement in this moment clearly has weight.

Plus, it’s just cute that this sets up the idea of Ike as a tank to Soren, since that plays out in both the plot and gameplay.

I also think it’s neat how this changes if only Ike and Soren are in this part:

If Rhys and Shinon are dead (Hard mode)

Soren: “Ike, do you have any ideas on how you want to approach this fight?” Ike: “Let’s see…We’re in the middle of the road, and there’s not much cover. You’re vulnerable, so I have to be sure you’re protected from enemy attacks, right?” Soren: “Right. Er…sorry for the trouble…but I appreciate the consideration.” Ike: “Sure. All right, let’s do that then.”

Soren is the only squishy mage Ike is talking about protecting, making his response more sheepish. Throughout the game, we see Soren worry about being a burden to Ike, so the idea of Ike having to protect him specifically puts him in a different headspace. Meanwhile, Ike doesn’t turn into a puppy here because Soren didn’t compliment him.

If Soren is forced to retreat in this chapter, this happens after the battle:

Soren: “…Forgive me. I was nothing more than a hindrance.” Ike: “Don’t worry about it. Your health is more important. How bad is the wound?” Soren: “…” Ike: “That bad? Well then, from now on, I want you to be an intelligence officer.” Soren: “What? Are you serious?” Ike: “Are you so opposed to the idea?” Soren: “Of course not! I thought…I…I assumed I would be…let go…” Ike: “Don’t be stupid. An intelligence officer assists with strategy and planning, right? There’s no combat of any kind. There shouldn’t be any problems. I’m sure the commander will approve of the idea.” Soren: “…Th-thank you. I’ll try to bring honor to the position.”

Speaking of Soren being afraid of being a burden, this is the first chance for the player to see a core element of his character, which is how concerned he is with being useful. This is far before he has learned to trust that he will always have a place at Ike’s side. He joined the company to be with Ike and attain security, so the fact that he expects to lose all of that after being hurt is so sad, but also makes sense given his past and how he’s only been desired for his abilities. Of course, Ike doesn’t realize any of this–he only wants Soren to be safe and stay with him. This is mirrored beautifully in Soren’s Forging Bonds in FEH, where he wonders why his younger self would be summoned when he isn’t useful, and Ike theorizes that it’s more about his younger self’s well-being than his abilities.

Another thing of interest here is that Soren, despite now being referenced constantly as the Greil Mercenaries’ tactician, didn’t actually start out with that job title. At the start of the game, he was their staff officer who was still in training with a different mercenary group. Over the course of the games, especially RD, he grows into his role as a respected strategist (and possibly a legendary one, if Cipher and his other game cameos are to be believed). But here, we see that even in the beginning of PoR, Ike already saw that potential in him.

Ch 8:

Ike: “What about you, Soren?” Soren: “…Ike. I’m not sure what help I could be to you. What place is there for me in a mercenary company, anyway?” Ike: “You are so weird…I’ve always depended on you, haven’t I? I need your tactical knowledge. I need your objectivity. You’re not going to leave me, are you, Soren?” Soren: “Don’t worry. I’ll be here, watching over you.”

I love how crucial this is to establishing their relationship, especially since all of the dialogues I included before this one are optional. This is the first time most players will see Soren doubt his place, Ike express how much he values Soren, and Soren promise to stay and look after him.

It’s also a perfect introduction to the arc Soren has if you do their supports. Throughout their supports, you learn why he feels like an outsider, finally culminating in him shouting “I don’t belong anywhere!” with the expectation that this will disgust Ike, and that Ike will finally reject him. But he doesn’t. That unconditional acceptance finally gets through to Soren, and in his final line in the game, if he has an A support with Ike, he will say his iconic line, “There’s only one place for me to be, Ike…and it’s by your side.” Even the word choice of “place” echoes the dialogue from chapter 8; what place is there for him? By Ike’s side. Asked and answered.

It’s significant that all of Soren’s appearances since then have quoted this sentiment. It’s the culmination of his journey toward acceptance. Without being tied to a specific family, nationality, or many of the other things that shape a person’s identity and understanding of their place in the world, he thought he would never belong anywhere. But Ike’s main philosophy is that a person’s origins don’t need to define them, and his influence allows Soren to accept himself.

Another interesting thing about the above interaction is how much it stands out from the other conversations in this part of the game. PoR gives a lot of early screen time to the Greil Mercs, even though as we’ve seen, it requires a lot of variations to account for permadeath. This leads up to chapters 8-9, where we see them all handle grief differently as they process what Greil’s life and death mean to them. All of this hits hard, but what’s interesting about Soren is that he never says anything about Greil. Instead, we see the above scene where he questions his own right to be there, as well as various scenes in chapter 9 where he hovers around Ike, trying to provide comfort and not knowing how (see below).

In this scene, the other characters are reacting to the idea of Ike taking command. Their loyalty to Greil is being tested as they have to decide whether to follow his inexperienced son. For instance, we learn in this section how much the three brothers owe to Greil for taking them in. But Soren, though Greil also took him in and he seemed to have some basic respect for Greil’s command, didn’t join the group for Greil. He joined it for Ike. So as he says, “We all knew that Ike was going to inherit command of the company, didn’t we? It just happened sooner than we wanted.” It was already a foregone conclusion that he would one day follow Ike–but to him, it’s not a foregone conclusion that he’ll be allowed to, or has a right to. So in the above script, when everyone is chiming in to express their support of Ike’s leadership, Soren instead vents his own insecurities.

Ch 9:

Much has already been said about Soren’s personal journey and how Ike supports him, but I am also very interested in the reverse. Ike is increasingly being forced to take on roles that he doesn’t feel ready for at the same time as having to swallow his sudden grief. PoR is at heart a coming-of-age story, where Ike is coming into his own while struggling to understand the world around him, all while getting a crash course in topics like war and politics. Soren, as someone who is very caring toward Ike but is otherwise cold and pragmatic due to his own traumatic experiences, and who is knowledgeable about many of the topics that Ike is ignorant of, is a key part of this growth process.

As said, chapter 9 especially has several parts where Soren clearly wishes to comfort Ike in the wake of Greil’s death, but has no idea how. Their C support is an example of this, as is their base conversation, which I’ve always thought was incredibly sweet—especially given that Soren’s intent clearly comes through, and Ike is able to find comfort in his presence while reassuring Soren that he’ll be all right. It demonstrates the care and understanding between them.

Another example though, which you might not necessarily see, happens after Soren’s first report if there was a casualty in the previous chapter:

Soren: “And that’s it.” Ike: “Ugh…” Soren: “Ike? Is something wrong?” Ike: “Even though I was aware of the numbers, hearing it in a report like this is…hard.” Soren: “Do you mean the casualties and refugees?” Ike: “Death and destruction are all part of war. My father said that a lot. ‘The first casualties of war are those without strength and those without luck. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Live with bravery, be daring and fearless. Live for those who have died.’ And yet…I can’t help but think if I were more powerful…I could save more people. Couldn’t I?” Soren: “Ike…” Ike: “…Blast!” Soren: “Indeed.” Ike: “Forgive me. I got carried away.” Soren: “No, not at all… Um, perhaps I should…” Ike: “Thank you for the report. I will need more of the same from here on. Keep up the good work.” Soren: “Thank you, Commander. I will do my best. But if I have your leave, I must be going.”

First of all: Can we all just appreciate how funny “...Blast!” “Indeed.” is? It reads like a shitpost comic, but they really just said that.

Anyway, the idea that people can die in Ike’s very first battle as commander, right after he could do nothing to save his father, hits hard here. FE in general, with its permadeath feature and plots, focuses a lot on the weight of individual deaths in war. Given Greil’s past, it’s unsurprising that he gave Ike the advice he did. But it’s equally unsurprising that Ike would find this hard to accept.

As said before, Soren truly does not know how to offer comfort, but his sympathy for Ike is clear. All he can really do is support him with his tactics and objectivity like Ike asked. So it seems significant that this is one of the only times Soren ever addresses Ike formally. Ike is always just Ike to him, even later on when Ike has been named a lord and general. So to me, the fact that he calls him “Commander” here feels deliberate. All this time, Ike has been doubting his ability to lead, and Soren can’t offer personal comfort–so acknowledging Ike’s role as his leader, and Soren’s commitment to supporting him in that role, is the best assurance he can provide.

Next, I want to talk about the middle section of the game, particularly moments that reference the Ike/Soren supports.

Ch 12:

Nasir: I am uncomfortable around dragons. I thought it would be better if I stayed below in my cabin. My apologies. Ike: Now that you mention it, Soren seems to have disappeared as well. Have you seen him? Nasir: Perhaps he's feeling nauseated. For one unaccustomed to sea travel, it's not uncommon. Ike: Right...I think I'll check up on him later.

I’m including this for being early foreshadowing re: Soren’s origins, as well as one of the many times that Ike checks on him throughout the game. Actually, this is an example of something that happens a LOT, which is the game pointing people toward the Ike/Soren supports. Given how important they are to Soren’s arc and that they’re even a requirement for some scenes in RD, that isn’t surprising. It is pretty unusual in an FE game, however, which makes it notable. Sometimes it feels like every other chapter is putting neon signs around Soren saying “This guy has Stuff, and Ike wants to know what, btw.” This specific example is even one that foreshadows RD, rather than anything that is followed up on directly in this game.

Ch 13:

Ike: Soren...About what I said this morning... Soren: Yes? Ike: About the way you phrase things. Soren: I...I ought to apologize for that. Ike: No, don't apologize. I know you. I know it's been bothering you, hasn't it? Soren: No. Well... Ike: Don't take it personally. I'm no better, you know. Your ability to speak plainly the things others won't is part of what makes you brilliant. Others are too bound by courtesy...With you, I trust that what you say is exactly what you think. Soren: Well...yes... Thank you, Ike.

I don’t have anything new to say here re: the things Ike understands and appreciates about Soren and how Ike expresses this. I just love this scene. <3

Ch 15:

Ike: Tell me, Soren, are you all right? Soren: Hm? Ike: Recently--ever since we reached Begnion, in fact--you've seemed depressed. Soren: Is...is that so? How odd. Well, I can think of nothing specific that's bothering me. Ike: Well, if you say so. Ike: So, it's time for the desert! Which is the best direction to enter from? Soren: ... Ike: Soren? Soren: ...Eh? Yes, what is it? Ike: All right, I know there's something going on! Soren: I'm... I'm sorry... I was...thinking. What is it you wanted? Ike: Well, I was going to ask you for directions, but it's no longer necessary. It looks like we're being met.

This is one of the most blatant examples of their supports being integrated into the plot. It follows up on Ike telling Sigrun that Soren’s been depressed, and leads directly into their B support, plus foreshadows their A support by establishing Soren’s reaction to finding out that he’s branded.

Ch 17:

Ike: Hm? Is that you, Soren? You're up early. Soren: Actually, I'm always awake at this time. Ike: Really? Soren: Yes. You're the one who's up earlier than normal. Ike: I want to finish our mission today. I think my nervous energy woke me up. Soren: I understand... The last two days spent searching Serenes Forest for that heron have been frustrating and fruitless. I'm sure he's in there somewhere, but… Ike: I agree. And Duke Tanas's men are still hunting away. They must think the heron is there as well. Soren: The only place left is the forest's heart. That's where we should go today. With luck, we may finally locate our target. Ike: I get the feeling it's going to be a long day.

This, meanwhile, happens after the B support has already been available. This is mostly plot exposition, but what’s significant is that the tone and dynamic are very different than just a couple chapters ago. You can’t tell in text, but they’re smiling in the lines about their sleep schedules, making the vibe very casual and domestic. This is a far cry from just a little while ago, when Soren couldn’t hold a conversation with Ike even while doing his job. This suggests that Soren is feeling somewhat better, and has regained his usual dynamic with Ike–which only really makes sense when you’ve just gotten their B support, and Soren has gotten a lot off of his chest while deciding to keep the rest to himself for now.

Another sweet thing here is Soren’s understanding and sympathetic replies to Ike, which as we saw earlier in the game, he was struggling to provide on a basic level. They’re truly learning and growing together even in little ways.

Immediately after that, we transition into this:

Soren: I believe this is the place where we ended our search yesterday. Ike: I realized something a couple of days ago...Even in this forest, you always know exactly where you are, don't you? Soren: Hm? Ike: How do you do that? I think it's the lack of color, but these woods are starting to look the same to me. Soren: Yes, that's a problem...

This is again foreshadowing lore from their supports by hinting that Soren has better senses than a beorc (personally, I theorize that due to his dragon blood, Soren has above-average spatial awareness and other abilities that help him with navigation–handy for a tactician!) and setting up the reveal that he managed to navigate a forest on his own as a child.

And finally, one late-game scene:

Ch 27:

Ike: The one I seek is behind these doors. Don't follow me. I'm going in alone. Soren: Ike! Wait! I'm going with– Titania: No, Soren. We have to let Ike go alone. The Black Knight is his. Defeating him is a crucial step that Ike must take in order to truly get over the death of his father. Soren: Idiocy! I'll hear no more of this naive nonsense! What if something happens to him? What then? Titania: I think Ike has gained the composure to keep calm and judge whether or not he can match an opponent. If, in fact, he can't...it means he's reached his full potential, and that's all there is to him. We just have to accept that. But I believe in Ike. I trust him. His life is not his alone any longer. I don't believe he's so irresponsible as to leave his companions behind by choosing to engage in a contest he cannot win. Please, Soren, you must feel the same way. Don't you? Soren: ...I don't like it. Sometimes, bravery and good judgment aren't enough. Titania: Commander Greil... Watch over your son.

I don’t have a lot to say that’s relevant to my other points, I just love this scene for how it establishes both Soren and Titania’s dedication to Ike, and what that means to each of them. Shoutout to the Tellius audio CD for showing us what it would be like for them to support Ike in a fight against the BK! (And shoutout to it in general for having some incredible Ike/Soren content, including some adorable casual banter as well as more dramatic moments.)

Radiant Dawn

Honestly, for understandable reasons of scope, RD doesn’t have as much in the category of ‘Ike/Soren moments that are personal but not in supports/base convos/death quotes/epilogues/etc.’ There are a few fave moments I want to highlight though, as well as just a general appreciation for how Soren is constantly referenced as being at Ike’s side, considering what I’ve already said about what that means re: his arc.

Also, shout-out to their intro cutscene where Soren pays no attention to his surroundings as he hurls magic at the enemies surrounding Ike.

Ch 3-3 (base convo)

Ranulf: Soren has even answered some of Skrimir’s more insane requests. He doesn’t listen to a word I say, but when Soren talks strategy, he’s all ears. Ike: Is that why he hasn’t been complaining during the briefings? Ranulf: He says he looks forward to what the little strategist will say next. It looks to me like Soren’s charmed his way into the most powerful position in this army. Titania: I’m glad to hear it. He’s changed, hasn’t he? Ranulf: Yeah, I think so. He still doesn’t say much, but he’s a lot more at ease these days. He used to be completely closed off, rejecting anyone who tried to get close. Like he’d lock himself away, all alone in his own little world. Ike: We all lost and gained something during the Mad King’s War. Maybe it wasn’t a complete waste, after all.

Ranulf’s commentary on Soren’s growth here is great, and of course we have seen how Ike’s support enabled it. It also just says so much that Ike thinks the war wasn’t a complete waste, after all he himself lost and all the horrors he witnessed, just because Soren is more at ease. Especially if you pursue their supports in PoR, Ike spends considerable energy trying to help Soren feel better, so it makes sense that this is still a priority for him.

Ch 3-7

Micaiah: You are so… cold. It’s like you’re cloaked in frost. Is there even blood in your veins? Soren: There is. Blood very similar to yours, in fact. Blood that teaches us what it means to be rejected and alone. Micaiah: Your heart is frozen, but I feel a warm core trying to melt through that ice. I see… You have someone you cherish very much. Someone you rely on.

3-13

Micaiah: Yes, and you would know. There’s something very different about you, too. Your energy feels so…ancient. You and I seem to have so much in common. Soren: That doesn’t matter in the slightest. The only thing that does matter is that you are a dangerous adversary. You are also in Ike’s path, so it falls to me to remove you. It’s almost a shame. Farewell, Maiden of Dawn. Micaiah: So, you fight for someone, as well. So very much alike… But I will defeat you. I will protect the ones I love!

The parallels between Soren and Micaiah and their relationships, as well as other characters (Hi, Zelgius), are their own fascinating topic. The whole convos between them are great, but I’ll just highlight that it says a lot that Micaiah can read Soren’s heart and sense Ike’s impact on him. Especially when you combine it with Ranulf’s observation, it brings home the influence Ike has on Soren. His first reaction to recognizing Micaiah as a kindred spirit is to focus on the idea that they’re both alone, but she immediately calls out that this isn’t entirely true. Given how determined Micaiah is to protect her loved ones, stemming in part from her own experiences with being branded, the fact that she can recognize that in Soren also speaks volumes.

Ch 3-8

Soren: Our options are profoundly limited, Ike. It appears our only other choice is those caves up ahead. Ranulf: Caves? Oh...yeah, those are the Kauku Caves. We don't want to go there. It's a complex maze, full of lava and ash. Not exactly a place you'd want to rest. The legends say that, through the caves, there's one exit that leads to Gallia, and another exit that leads to Goldoa. Whatever the legends say, though, the fact is that it's suicide to go in there. We don't even have a map! Ulki: However, the more you hens carry on, the closer the enemy advances on us. They're now less than a day away. Soren: If the enemy catches up to us in this forest, we will certainly die. The caves are known to be dangerous, so Begnion may not pursue. Even the most formidable natural hazard isn't as deadly as an intelligent, living enemy. We must go to the caves. Now. Ike: All right, Soren. I trust you. Let's move out for the caves.

Here’s where my analysis ends. I just…Ike hears how deadly this volcano is, hears Soren say that’s the safest place to be, and then immediately orders the large group of people he’s responsible for to enter it because if Soren says he’ll be safe in the volcano, then he’ll be safe in the volcano.

;_; “The Devoted” indeed.

(If you read this ~2k of script and ~2k of analysis, thank you and I hope you enjoyed! Happy IkeSoren Week Encore, everyone.)

#ikesoren #ikesoren week encore #aisene #ike fire emblem #soren fire emblem #soren #tellius #long post #ikesorenweekencore

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