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christiebae · 3 months

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Quer algumas horas de tela com um dos caras mais bonitos do acampamento? Está bem, vou te dar esse privilégio. Êh, não precisa revirar os olhos, você sabe que eu tô falando sério aqui e você concordo comigo, bem lá no fundo do seu coraçãozinho, você sabe que estou falando a verdade.

BÁSICO E PESSOAL

Nome: Christopher Bae, mas Christie é basicamente o único nome que conheço. Não tenho nome coreano, já tive muita sorte de ter um sobrenome, porque claro, é mais fácil e menos passível de julgamento quando o homem abandona a criança. Idade: 24 anos, faço vinte e cinco em abril, sabe que na coreia não conta mais a idade como antes né?! Não que eu contasse antes, mas é legal saber de coisas novas. Gênero: Homem cis. Pronomes: Ele/dele. Altura: 1,87 cm. Parente divino e número do chalé: Afrodite é a minha mãe e sou do chalé dez.

CONHECENDO OS SEMIDEUSES

Idade que chegou ao Acampamento:

Eu tinha dez anos, não cheguei sozinho e minhas mães sabem do acampamento, na verdade, elas que me contaram desse lugar.

Quem te trouxe até aqui?

Foi o diretor do circo que as minhas mães vivem, todo mundo lá sabia de toda a história, então só foi segredo pelo tempo que precisava ser um segredo.

Seu parente divino te reclamou de imediato ou você ficou um pouco no chalé de Hermes sem saber a quem pertencia?

Foi de imediato, para ser sincero, eu já sabia que era filho de Afrodite quando cheguei aqui, então a reclamação era só a confirmação para os outros.

Após descobrir sobre o Acampamento, ainda voltou para o mundo dos mortais ou ficou apenas entre os semideuses? Se você ficou no Acampamento, sente falta de sua vida anterior? E se a resposta for que saiu algumas vezes, como você agia entre os mortais?

Eu sempre volto, quer dizer, antes do tio D manter a gente preso aqui, eu voltava. Primeiro porque adoro viajar e a minha família tá sempre em um lugar diferente, é divertido conhecer novos lugares, e depois porque sempre sinto saudades deles, principalmente das minhas mães, Rachel e Olivia. E eu continuo agindo normalmente, até porque só de ser fruto de um circo já me coloca em um papel esquisito demais.

Se você pudesse possuir um item mágico do mundo mitológico, qual escolheria e por quê?

Você sabia que a minha mãe tem a besta do cupido?! Tipo, ele tem o arco e a flecha clássica, mas também tem essa besta que é muito legal, eu acho que ficaria com isso.

Existe alguma profecia ou visão do futuro que o assombra ou guia suas escolhas?

Além da que tá infernizando a gente agora? Não, nenhuma, tá bom de pesadelos e traumas por agora.

PODERES, HABILIDADES E ARMAS

Fale um pouco sobre seus poderes.

É um inferno se quer saber, o nome é fascínio encantado, basicamente um tipo de atração irresistível que faz com que as pessoas se sintam hipnotizadas por mim, apaixonadas, com muito tesão, coisas do tipo. Basicamente se torna uma marionete e eu posso fazer o que eu quiser com isso, o problema é que eu não tenho controle nenhum, aí preciso usar essas coisas aqui. — Mostra os braceletes que usa — Pelo o que eu entendi, a minha mãe conseguiu isso com alguém e me deu, basicamente porque é um tipo de bloqueador e me serve muito. O meu poder envolve qualquer coisa relacionada a atração, beijo, sexo, troca de olhar, toque, qualquer coisa, e aí é complicado. (por que?) Ah, porque sem esses troços — Mostra mais uma vez os braceletes — Eu não sei se a pessoa se aproximou de mim por causa desse inferno de poder ou se é interesse mesmo. É foda ser uma pessoa carente como eu sou e ter um poder que pode nutrir essa carência, mas de um jeito falso e manipulado, então eu odeio.

Quais suas habilidades e como elas te ajudam no dia a dia.

Sentidos aguçados me ajudam em relação a percepção de perigo, melhores reflexos, essas coisas, e os reflexos sobre-humanos também, lógico, não é a toa que sou líder da equipe de esgrima.

Você lembra qual foi o primeiro momento em que usou seus poderes?

Foi ainda criança, eu não lembro onde o circo estava e nem quantos anos eu tinha, mas como estava no começo, o poder tinha momentos que aparecia e momentos que sumia, isso me dava espaço para viver um pouco no lugar antes de me mudar de novo, as pessoas ficando atraídas por mim poderia ser algo que eu saberia lidar agora que sou adulto, mas sendo uma criança, era assustador.

Qual a parte negativa de seu poder?

Tudo? Sem controle eu praticamente posso ser comido por um monstro e não do jeito que deve ser, e não tô muito interessado em acabar acasalando com uma harpia, então eu realmente preciso aprender a cuidar dessa parte.

E qual a parte positiva?

A parte de hipnotizar a pessoa, ter comando sobre ela e tal, acho que seria de grande ajuda em uma batalha, mas não sei como ainda, porque nunca usei e não estou muito interessado em tentar agora.

Você tem uma arma preferida? Se sim, qual?

Espada, qualquer uma que seja, eu adoro lutar com elas. É uma dança sabe, além de muito eficiente, é do tipo sexy, uma pessoa que sabe manusear bem uma espada pode causar arrepios, não só de medo.

Acredito que tenha uma arma pessoal, como a conseguiu?

Eu vejo isso aqui como uma arma — Mostra os braceletes dourados novamente — porque se eu souber o momento certo de usa-las, entendendo que a situação pode ser controlada, eu acho que dá pra simplesmente criar estratégia e usar como arma sim, além de que é extremamente resistente, me serve bem de escudo às vezes.

Qual arma você não consegue dominar de jeito algum e qual sua maior dificuldade no manuseio desta?

Lança, porque sou grandão e fico muito desajeitado, além de que não sei usar esse troço mesmo.

MISSÕES

Já saiu em alguma missão?

Já, com os meus gêmeos preferidos, também já fui com alguns outros semideuses, mas eles não são tão importantes quanto os mais caóticos daquele chalé, o de Ares, claro.

Qual foi a primeira que saiu?

Ih, nem lembro, acho que foi quando eu resgatei um grupo de crianças com alguns semideuses, próximo do metropolitan, mas não tenho certeza. — Dá de ombros.

Qual a missão mais difícil?

As que envolvem dracaena ou górgonas, porque elas costumam ficar muito atraídas por filhes de Afrodite, o que é um problema, porque os outros, elas querem comer e nós, elas querem guardar, tipo colecionar mesmo. É um problema viu.

Qual a missão mais fácil? E tem missão mais fácil?

— Dá uma gostosa gargalhada, de jogar o corpo para trás e colocar as mãos na barriga pela piada boa — Adorei a piada, pode continuar. (É sério) Ah, é? Porra, mas aí é uma pergunta estúpida né… missão fácil? Ensinar as crianças a usar o centro de treinamento, é muito tranquilo, você podia tentar.

Em alguma você sentiu que não conseguiria escapar, mas por sorte o fez?

Todas, porque é o que a gente sente o tempo todo, alguns podem dizer que não, mas estão mentindo descaradamente. O que é? Tem semideus aqui chegando nos trinta, isso é uma vitória enorme.

Já teve que enfrentar a ira de algum deus? Se sim, teve consequências?

Só da minha mãe mesmo, acho que ela tem inveja que sou gostosão… (Está brincando?) — Suspira — Estou, não enfrentei a ira de deus nenhum, se eu tivesse enfrentado, no mínimo, eu teria uma maldição de presentinho.

DEUSES

Qual divindade você acha mais legal, mais interessante?

Hermes, porque gosto da filha dele (— Suspiro impaciente — pode falar sério um pouco, por favor?!) Eu tô falando sério, o cara trabalha com entregas e tem um par de sapatos que voa… e Apolo, que é quente, gostoso e eu gosto dus filhes dele.

Qual você desgosta mais?

No momento, tô odiando demais o Hades, também não gosto muito do Zeus, na verdade, o big3 me irrita.

Se pudesse ser filhe de outro deus, qual seria?

Apolo, é o único deus que chega perto, mesmo que um pouquinho, da beleza da prole de Afrodite, e quero continuar sendo bonito.

Já teve contato com algum deus? Se sim, qual? Como foi? Se não, quem você desejaria conhecer?

Minha mãe, só. E foi bom, só isso mesmo, não vou dar detalhes. E eu ainda queria muito conhecer Íris ou Ares, o último eu queria real ver a cara dele pra entender, sabe… aquilo lá que ele fez no chalé dele, só tem gente doida ali.

Faz oferendas para algum deus? Tirando seu parente divino. Se sim, para qual? E por qual motivo?

Duas vezes, pra proteger a minha família toda do circo, uma foi pra Atena e a outra pra Métis, porque ela é basicamente a deusa da saúde, da proteção, da prudência, e por aí vai…

MONSTROS

Qual monstro você acha mais difícil matar e por qual motivo?

Eu falei né, dracaena e górgonas, por causa do negócio de querer colecionar Afroditinhes.

Qual o pior monstro que teve que enfrentar em sua vida?

Esses que soltam veneno, como eu não uso o meu poder, então preciso lutar no soco, com espada ou arco e flecha, aí as vezes fica foda de chegar perto né.

Dos monstros que você ainda não enfrentou, qual você acha que seria o mais difícil e que teria mais receio de lidar?

Cão infernal, nunca vi um e não sei como fazer, tem que jogar petisco? Que tipo de petisco se dá para um cão infernal? Será que ele fica tranquilo com um carinho na barriga? Muitos questionamentos.

ESCOLHAS

Caçar monstros em trio OU Caçar monstros sozinho Capture a bandeira OU Corrida com Pégasos — É que é super fácil de descolar uns amassos. Ser respeitado pelos deuses OU Viver em paz Hidra OU Dracaenae — Até porque são ótimas opções mesmo, meu sonho ter que escolher entre elas.

LIDERANÇA E SACRIFÍCIOS

Estaria disposto a liderar uma missão suicida com duas outras pessoas, sabendo que nenhum dos três retornaria com vida mas que essa missão salvaria todos os outros semideuses do acampamento?

Estaria disposto a ir em uma missão suicida, mas com pelo menos dois sobreviventes. É, eu seria capaz de me sacrificar pelos meus parceiros, mesmo sendo pessoas que eu não gosto, tipo aquele cara lá, o Asher… mentira, eu gosto dele, só tenho vontade de socar a cara dele de vez em quando.

Que sacrifícios faria pelo bem maior?

Morrer? Não é o suficiente? Ah, tem o submundo né, será que é tão ruim assim? Eu tenho por mim que não, porque se fosse, Perséfone tinha caído fora a muito tempo. Até porque ninguém aceitaria viver num muquifo pra dividir a cama com um bafo de bode.

Como gostaria de ser lembrado?

Tipo igual Apolo, um grande guerreiro e muito bonito que fica bem em qualquer estátua que fizer, tu já viu a estátua que tem em Versalhes? Eu ia ficar um grande gostoso em uma estátua parecida.

ACAMPAMENTO

Local favorito do acampamento.

Lago, praia e cachoeira, sabe por que? Sabe sim, não adianta dizer que não, fico pelado com muita frequência nesses lugares e as vezes não tô sozinho.

Local menos favorito.

Enfermaria, porque eu odeio hospital e ambientes do tipo, coisa que tenho desde criança.

Lugar perfeito para encontros dentro do acampamento.

Encontros entre amigos, eu sugiro a sala do Sr. D, porque ele tem umas bebidas boas ali, ah, também tem o chalé dele, o povo mais animado do acampamento é o que leva o sangue desse velhote. E encontro de casal?! Bem, tem esses lugares que falei que gosto de ir, além dos chalés, mas acho que perfeito mesmo é ir no estábulo, rapaz, dá pra fazer muita coisa ali sem ninguém incomodar, juro.

Atividade favorita para se fazer.

Esgrima, lógico, sou líder de equipe, óbvio que ia gostar. Também gosto de fazer natação, mas esse é por hobbie mesmo.

menção honrosa a: @lynksu, @styxch, @alcthias, @sonofwisdcm, Sr. D e filhes de Apolo.

#⋆ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 ・ filed under ：extras ．#・ filed under ：tasks ．#swf:task01 #demorou um pouco mas chegou aí #criei aí uma fanfic relacionado a monstro kkkk #porque eu li uma vez uma história que envolvia algo assim #e achei interessante só isso kkk

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hanzajesthanza · 1 year

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i loveeee being in a fandom where the work of media in question is complete. it's finished. it's done.

we don't have to wait around for the next book or watch as the series gets dragged out and beaten like a dead horse for a neverending amount of cash flow.

the creator had a vision, he stuck to it, he executed it, and now we have "the work"—an established body of canon which we can talk about and discuss, without having to say "unless this gets changed or modified in future installments." there is a set number of short stories, a set number of books. asides from the comments of the author himself said in interviews and opinions remarked upon in essays and other works, there is nothing more we have to be prepared to risk everything on. the story is complete. it has been told. everything we know has already been written down.

i know some, or more likely, most people cannot stand it when there are no new or upcoming additions to the work of a fandom, nothing to "look forward to." but i love it. please don't give me any more, this was more than enough to deal with, i'm still working on this, honestly. rather, what i'm "looking forward to" are interpretations, analysis, and other work from fans from which we can generate—ourselves—ongoing discussions and arguments which will last us forever.

i don't want hype. i want love.

#filed under: my posts always sound pretentious but please i really am not trying to be pretentious this is just how i think to myself #txt #the witcher books #everybody say thank you sapko for finishing the series and not giving up halfway through the saga and abandoning it #also the fact that it's One Guy as the author makes it so much more easier and straightforward #however there are like Ten Million References which you need to read Every Fantasy Series to get so. there's your homework #i'm joking but really 'getting a degree in arthurian literature to read the witcher' is a good idea #and 'getting a degree in european history to read the hussite trilogy' is also a good idea #if sapkowski were to announce another 'witcher' work i would accept it (generally; within reason) but i would also be like:#'what are you doing. let the dead sleep.'#let geralt rest on the island of avalon he deserves a peaceful retirement don't keep bringing him back for small tasks #HOWEVER if you would like to write something with ciri in the world of arthurian legend... i'm down for that

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parkduris · 10 months

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interview highlights.

he's sat down in the rather comfortable chair, having readjusted the outfit that he was wearing - just so it wasn't wrinkled or anything of that nature. a few fingers move through his hair, fixing it ever so slightly and making it looked as perfectly as it should. he can't say he's ever done a podcast interview, something that was a rather long taping. but, to be perfectly honest, duri was rather excited for it, and it'd be the first time he'd do something completely in english; as he mostly did things in korean. but, he really looked forward to using one of the languages that he knows. it wasn't long until the cameras were finally rolling, and the interview was going to begin.

it's rather comfortable, in truth, due to the fact that it was rather laid back. in some way, it really didn't feel like it was some professional production - even though it was. it wasn't like it was a variety show or a magazine photoshoot; even a comeback showcase was a big type of interview thing. but, here, duri could of felt like he could just sit there, talk as if the podcast host was a friend, and everything in between. he thinks he really likes something like this, in retrospect. maybe he'd like to do more of these types of interviews, as he also really likes doing radio interviews too. he even got to sit rather comfortably, with his feet underneath him. the host kept saying that it added to him being even more wholesome. ah, park duri; as wholesome as wholesome really gets.

"hello! i'm the duri!" he says, introducing himself to the camera as he would bow - something wasn't needed at all, but duri was always someone who's always upholding the respect aspect, before things would really get started. the welcomes, the casual talking, all those things were happening then, making a rather nice atmosphere. starting something like friends who are simply just catching up, before actually doing an interview of sorts.

"of course, a lot of what you talk about and your identity is in regards to your music, and it seems like something that you take with pride. but, i don't think you've done a lot of talking about yourself, on your own before. so, today, i kind of just wanted to get to know you, especially with being such a big fan of yourself. what's a hard time or relatable time that you've felt before?"

he blushes, the red ears almost evident as the other mentions being a fan. for some reason, that's something that park duri is never going to get used to. even though it's been about four years at this rate, those were words that seemingly weren't going to be something he could get used to in his brain. "i think, in life, we have all had those kinds of slumps, right? i, personally, am someone who's never really been good with change? and i was really young at the time when i took the leap with secret garden and became a soloist. i had a little bit of a hard time adjusting to the new change and i think i felt that someway after i debuted as well. change can be really weird, in a sense? but, i was really able to talk myself through, like duri-ah, it's going to be okay, you're going to do great. i think i was also really nervous because i decided to create everything myself and submit all my own demos. in the end, everything worked out though!" he explains, before a giggle would dare escape him once more.

"i'm sure a podcast comes easily to you, considering you once used to be a youtuber of sorts. i actually went back and watched everything you had posted since you began your journey till you had gone quiet. i also do remember the moment your no tears left to cry cover went viral because it was a big talk by netizens. what was the journey like?"

duri couldn't help but to blush ever so slightly at the mention of his channel and the fact that the other had went back to watch all of the videos that he had posted as a teenager. "ah, thank you for viewing all of them," he says, a giggle leaving his lips as he bows towards the other. "i wanted to make a youtube channel when i was younger because i really wanted to post covers of myself singing. i feel like i always needed an outlet to just... sing because i would always sing," he says, a small chuckle leaving his lips once more. "i never expected anything out of it, but it was cool to get views! then, suddenly, one day, a video got a ton of views, and now i'm an idol!" he said, giggling softly once again. "i was going to audition at companies the coming january, but i guess a different sign came to me when the video went viral." he finishes, another chuckle leaving his lips.

"what's the best compliment you've ever received? i'm sure someone like you probably gets a lot because of the level of talent that you hold."

he chuckles again, doing his best to kind of just shake off the blush that would come again. oh, how he manages to blush rather easily. "i really think the best compliment that i can ever receive is every time someone tells me they're a fan of myself or they're a fan of true north! that's something that always means a lot and it just tells me that i'm doing a really great job." he nodded along to his own words, his grin growing a bit.

"as a soloist, you've completely written, produced, and composed all of your own songs. what made you take on such a feature for yourself and what does your process usually look like?"

duri nodded his head, before he'd answer. "writing is something that i've always enjoyed a lot and i started when i was young, when i really felt like i had a grasp on music, and music as an art form. it's the way i can be a storyteller, in some sense, and i really want to tell stories in the songs that i sing. some of them i can relate to, some of them i've gotten the ideas from reading books or watching movies, some of the songs are about people or couples that i know. i find inspiration in a lot of different things and i always make sure to really run with that inspiration. sometimes, even just the night sky or the han river inspires me to write something!" he said, a giggle leaving his lips. "i'm some sense, i feel like i always have something to write. of course, there's often the writers' block, but i will always find my way out of it!" he said, his smile growing a bit more. "producing and composing came easy as well, since i know a lot of instruments and i've really figured out how i want to sing a song or how i feel a song should be sung, so i really wanted to take the reigns on that as well! it's also helped that i've read books and textbooks on both of them as well," he stated, before giggling happily. "i hope that i can also take all of these skills and apply it to songs that aren't just for me in the future!"

"on that topic, is there a concept that you'd like to try for yourself?"

there's a soft shrug from duri, before he's giggling once again. "ah... you know, i'm not entirely sure! i really enjoy the whole concept and type of songs that i do now! i've always wanted to be a singer who's really known as a vocalist and really show off my vocals. it's something that makes me really happy in the long run because it's how i have always dreamed it? ballads are really something that's comforting for me to sing, even as a kid they were really comforting for me to sing! i remember being with my grandparents and they would be playing ballads over a radio or through their vinyl record collection, i always sang a long with them, as did my grandparents, and it's something that always means a lot! though, i think maybe in the future, i'd like to try an r&b ballad? i'd love to be in the same field as whitney houston-sunbaenim!"

there's a short time, a big highlight, of duri and the host singing random songs together. there share some giggles, as well as some of their favorite songs. which happened to make duri bust out into more songs, even some dances from the sofa of where he was sitting, as if this was an episode of glee, causing more laughs to be had between the two. it really is an interview that's a lot of fun and duri really gets to see how a podcast kind of more so operates because truth be told, he wasn't a podcast listener. if he was going to listen to something, it was going to be music. even if he needed to focus, he would more to more so instrumental music, if that was something that he decided he really needed. but, it was cool to see something that he didn't think about before or pay attention to. plus, duri's rather attentive, so he was always looking around the studio and stuff, just to see what was going. especially when he would manage to make the staff laugh as well.

"i've heard you're quite the cook, how'd that come about, and what's your favorite thing to cook?"

his smile seems to grow a bit more, another topic of one of his favorite hobbies. "ah, don't you know? i'm the masterchef of itaewon!" he teased, before a laugh would leave duri's lips. "cooking was something i was always interested in! so, i learned a lot about cooking from my grandparents, as well as my aunt choa. they all kind of taught me to cook and i would also watch those american cooking shows that i would find online," he said, giggling softly. "at the time, i only kind of understood what they were saying... but, there was translation at the bottom, so i managed!" he said, giggling softly once more. "i was really busy growing up, but my uncle and aunt always seemed more busy. so, i always did my best to cook them dinner before i would have to go to my music academy or sometimes i would do it after. i just wanted to make sure they had something to eat," he says, giving a firm nod, another chuckle leaving his lips. "ah... favorite thing to cook? i think i'd have to go with any type of pasta! i really like pasta!" he says, giggling once more with a firm nod.

"so you've done the same in the present time?"

he lets out another small giggle, before he's nodding his head again. "i have tried to cook as much as i possibly can! of course, sometimes it's a bit hard to do, because i have so much that i have to do. but, in my off time, it's really just nice to have meals that i've cooked for myself! i really just love cooking!" he said, another giggle seemingly leaving his lips. "ah, hyung, should i cook for you sometime?"

"a bit of a random topic of conversation, but because we've gotten into the recent movies you've seen, such as 'the little mermaid', what happens to be your favorite movie?"

duri thinks upon the question for a few moments. he feels like he has a lot of favorite movies, and he's not entirely sure if he's able to pick just one at the end of the day. but, he knew he had to pick something and he didn't want to say that he has too many. so, he decides on one of them. "i think my top favorite might be... kiki's delivery service!" he says, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "i think i can relate to kiki in a lot of ways! she's just really excited to get something started, she's really determined to figure out what she wants to do, then she works incredibly hard at the job that she ends up doing! she makes mistakes, but she really quickly fixes them. of course, she has her slumps, her hard times, but in the end, she figures out that this is what she's meant to, and she can pick herself back up." he says, his smile growing some more. "i think she's a good character to look up too!"

"all this talk about beauty routines and the fact that you were once brand ambassador for boy de chanel... give us and your fans a look into your morning routine, what's that like?"

"i think i have a pretty standard morning routine!" he starts, another chuckle leaving his lips. "i get up and go to the bathroom, where i take a shower to get the day started. i really like to shower twice a day, i know it's not good! but, i like to feel refreshed in the morning, so i take a quick one! then i start my skincare routine meant for the day, and then i get dressed. then i have coffee and i usually don't have time for breakfast, but i'm okay with that because i usually feel just a little nauseous in the morning. so, i never want anything to eat," he explains, before giggling softly. "i always like getting up early in the morning because i usually have something to do, i've got to get out the door!"

"okay, one last question before we finally let you go! you debuted when you were just seventeen, all on your own. sitting here now, in the position that you're in, what's some advice that you'd give your seventeen-year-old self?"

now this one is probably the hardest one because... what exactly would duri say to himself? it's something that he's not entirely sure about. but, he's clearly thinking about it, before he would finally say something because he couldn't keep the question waiting or anything like that. "duri-ah! everything is so exciting right? but, it's also scary, right? i know you're nervous about how things are going to go, especially because you're all on your own as a singer at seventeen. but, it's going to all be okay! you're going to do a really great job and everything is going to go so well! you've got this, you're going to have a lot of fun, and you're going to continue to have fun! duri fighting!" he says, before a giggle would leave his lips, which would turn to a laugh as the host would copy his ending.

and just like that, the hour-long podcast is something that comes to an end already. but, it was really nice, and he'd love to get to do something like this again.

#thefourprompt1 #╰ ♡ filed under: task.#i spent so long making a fake dive studios dont even look at me #credit to youtube template goes to yeonjvnz #idk what this is but!

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murderballadeer · 11 months

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my boss is really sweet and easy to work with but i also think she's a bit of a pushover like she'll ask us to do something and we'll say yeah sure of course and she'll immediately go oh my god thank you so much sorry for asking you to do this etc etc etc. and like it's nice of her but it's also very much our job to do what she tells us, and obviously it's appreciated that she does it in a respectful way and doesn't order us around and also we're not gonna abuse her kindness bc we don't have a reason to but i feel like she's kind of setting herself up to be taken advantage of by like. framing us doing the thing we are literally paid to do as a huge favour we're doing her instead of again our literal job that we get paid to do. and like obviously this woman who is old enough to be my mother doesn't need my advice on how to manage a team of work study students but i don't think anyone would be offended if she was a little more authoritative since we are very much her employees who get paid to do what she asks us to do

#like today she was like can you guys put these files back in the corresponding boxes #and we were like yeah of course and she was like omg thank you i know it's a lot to ask #and like?? it's really not?? it took us under an hour and we didn't even have to go down in the stacks #far from the most strenuous task we've had so far #and even with the more strenuous ones it's like i'm paid to be here and you're not asking me to do anything outrageous #soapbox

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esspurrr · 8 months

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one thing that makes me question things about my brain is at work we have Specific times for doing temp checks. i never miss a temp check. it is done exactly when it is written down we are supposed to it. ive been told multiple times from gently to hiding exasperation and failing that i have a 2 hour window and it doesnt have to be done Exactly at that time. this confuses me, bc why would those times be written down if i wasnt supposed to do them exactly at that time

#i just like when time based tasks are rigid :).#filing this under 'what kind of neurodivergence is that or is that just like normal.'

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adamafera · 11 months

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Objeto: la rose

a flor que selou sua maldição, e que após ter sido quebrada por @belledoslivros, transformou-se numa bela roseira que Adam mantém com tanto zelo e carinho no jardim do palacete.

#ttdtask #filed under : task

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frankensteintremaine · 2 years

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o filho de Frankenstein

tw: menção a alcoolismo; descrição gráfica de sangue, briga física, morte, estresse pós traumático (a partir do quarto parágrafo)

Drizella Tremaine já tinha desistido do amor há muitos anos quando conheceu Ivan. Isso mesmo, apenas Ivan, sem nenhum sobrenome, um dos piratas de James Hook que acabaram tornando-se funcionários no Pirate's Life e que viviam precariamente no Castigo. Ele foi um dos primeiros a entrar no estúdio de tatuagem que a mulher ainda montava. O sininho na porta anunciou a presença do pirata carrancudo e mais alto que a média e ela lhe perguntou de cara feia o que ele queria. O homem que usava botas velhas demais, um jeans imundo e uma camisa com mangas rasgadas, lhe abriu um sorriso que mostrou os dentes da frente levemente separados e anunciou que queria uma tatuagem de âncora, mostrando um saco de moedas como se fosse um grande tesouro.

A primeira tatuagem resultou numa segunda, numa terceira e as conversinhas fiadas que o homem de sorriso fácil jogava para a tatuadora a fizeram passar a visitá-lo no bar todas as noites. Ficaram juntos algumas vezes, sem nunca conversar sobre o status do relacionamento. Céus, era a primeira vez que Drizella se sentia alegre, jovem, bonita, desejada e inconsequente. Não queria estragar tudo com conversas sérias e o risco de levar um fora do homem por quem estava se apaixonando; se fosse para ser apenas um caso, assim seria. Mas o destino entrou no meio quando ela começou a suspeitar de uma gravidez. Ao falar com ele sobre a suspeita, Ivan a olhou com mais adoração ainda, como se ela e o filho que estava por vir fossem as coisas mais incríveis que já lhe aconteceram. Ele estava longe de ser um príncipe encantado e o amor não trouxe a ela um final feliz, mas sim um começo difícil, suado e repleto de dívidas. Mas se viraram como puderam, oficializaram a relação, ele se mudou para o apartamento em cima do estúdio e bem aos poucos conseguiam comprar coisinhas de bebê. O parto feito em casa, como era costume no lugar, foi longo e tortuoso, mas tudo valeu a pena quando a parteira deu o pequeno Victor nas mãos de sua mãe e ela o ouviu chorar e o viu abrir os olhos tão parecidos com os do pai pela primeira vez. Ivan veio correndo do trabalho apenas para conhecer o menino e riu alegremente para seu "pequeno Frankenstein", como ele chamou por conta do livro que a mulher lia em voz alta todas as noites e que lhes deu a ideia do nome do menino.

Nada é fácil no Castigo e o primeiro ano da criança também não foi. Drizella não podia deixar de trabalhar e mantinha o bebê no estúdio para amamentá-lo e acalentar seus choros. Ivan trabalhava dobrado e nos poucos dias de folga passava o dia com o pequeno Victor, dando-lhe mamadeiras e dormindo junto com ele na cama de casal. Contudo, antes de pai e marido, ele era um pirata e como o estereótipo de sua função, metia-se em confusões e vez ou outra bebia demais. Em geral era querido, tinha boas relações com muitos contrabandistas da Cidade de Baixo e assim conseguia preços baixos em coisas para a casa e mimos non-maj para a família. Colecionavam livros, discos, brinquedos. A casa era cheia de música, risada, pratos improvisados para o jantar (único horário que passavam juntos quando Drizella fechava o estúdio e Ivan comia antes de ir para o trabalho no bar), bebidas e alegria em meio ao caos e miséria.

Perto do aniversário de dois anos de Victor, uma chave mudou. Drizella estava exausta, desfrutando de raras horas de sono que tinha quando o bebê não chorava durante a madrugada, mas foi acordada por batidas desesperadas na porta do estúdio. Um dos tripulantes de Hook falava rápido demais, num inglês de sotaque muito carregado, e ela não conseguia entender quase nada, só soube que era sobre Ivan. Subiu desesperada, vestiu-se com roupas mais protegidas e agasalhou o bebê que acordou na confusão toda, levando-o junto a ela quando acompanhou o homem porta afora. Ele lhe dizia agora num inglês lento, que seu marido tinha se metido numa briga muito feia, que já tinham chamado outros homens para separar, mas que ele provavelmente precisaria de alguns curativos. Contudo, ao chegar na viela nas redondezas do Jolly Roger, o que ela encontrou foi seu amor já morto, com cortes profundos no corpo e uma poça de sangue rodeando-o. O líquido escarlate jorrava pelas feridas abertas a facadas e os homens presentes ali a impediram de chegar mais perto enquanto seus gritos desesperados ecoavam o choro assustado da criança em seu colo.

Tentaram chamar socorro e levá-lo ao posto médico, seu sangue manchando as mãos dos dois tripulantes que o carregavam e deixando uma trilha vermelha pela água suja que sempre escorria por aquelas vielas. Uma equipe cirúrgica poderia tê-lo salvado, mas não haviam médicos ou suprimentos para que nada fosse feito. O máximo que Drizella conseguiu, em meio a soluços e choro, foi que um rapazote que tentava atuar como enfermeiro fechasse as feridas para que pudessem fazer um enterro digno. As costuras rudimentares no peito e no rosto que um dia foi bonito a fizeram se lembrar do monstro de Mary Shelley. "Seu pequeno Frankenstein", como ele costumava chamar o filho com carinho.

Com o passar dos anos Ivan, sem sobrenome ou um passado, foi esquecido. Para Drizella restou uma caixa de lembranças guardada debaixo de sua cama. Nela, além de um colar de bússola e um par de anéis feitos de arame retorcido, haviam algumas fotos: duas dos dois juntos antes da gravidez, uma dele sozinho, uma com Victor no colo e uma dos três juntos na frente do estúdio, todas tiradas com uma velha câmera Polaroid que ele conseguiu com um velho contrabandista de tralhas non-maj.

Para Victor restou a lembrança muito distante de um homem sem rosto, uma fixação pelo monstro de O Prometeu Moderno, uma fita cassete que ele nunca teve coragem de ouvir, pesadelos com batidas na porta, gritos, feridas e sangue, muito, muito, muito sangue, e uma fobia que ele não sabe até hoje como controlar.

#🩸 ･｡° ﹙𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉﹚⠀⠀♱⠀⠀⠀magic box.#🩸 ･｡° ﹙𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉﹚⠀⠀♱⠀⠀⠀filed under: development.#tá aqui nos drafts e como calhou de ter a ver com a task resolvi postar rsrss venham ver o passado da drizella grande gostosa tatuadora #ft. algumas explicações sobre a relação do victor com a mãe; com as coisas non-maj e com a fobia de sangue !! tá legal jurooooo #e infelizmente não conseguirei responder as inters hj pq to com mts dor de cabeça mas amanhã venho aí!! ❤️

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noahwright · 1 year

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* TASK 002 ⸺ CENSUS OF SURVIVORS !

do they have any distinctive scars, tattoos, or marks?

“ yeah, i have twenty-seven tatts and, uhm ... a few scars. the biggest one is a burn scar in the left side of my torso, right under my ribs. it's quite the story too. oh! and i have a birth mark on the base of my neck, it has a weird leaf shape, i don't know. it's weird. ”

everybody’s hiding something—a fear, a weakness, a strength, an unpopular opinion. what are you hiding right now?

“ a chocolate bar i found in one of the suitcases. it's swiss, but got milk in it, so i'm saving it just in case. don't tell anyone, please. ”

do you believe rescue is possible at this point? why or why not?

“ i don't know, mate, i try not to think about it. we've been here for three months already and i— i just hope they hadn't forgotten or lost their hopes, that's all. ”

what did you dream about last night?

“ oh, my brother theo and i make this amazing, succulent black beans burgers with mashed potatoes that, ugh — they're so good? i've been dreaming with that for the last two weeks, it's torture, honestly. ”

what is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you?

“ well, i ... do have an important, embarrassing amount of those, not gonna lie, but ... once i accidentally pulled down some random middle-aged lady's pants on the ice skating park because i was falling and didn't find anything else to grab so my fall wouldn't be so terrible so ... yeah. poor lady, had spongebob panties i'm afraid weren't even hers. ”

do you prefer fighting with your fists or using diplomacy?

“ it depends. diplomacy is nice and all, but sometimes ... a punch to the face is needed. people are dumb, you know? ”

#⠀⠀⠀ › ⠀⠀ made by fire ⠀ ⸺ ⠀ noah wright ˖#⠀⠀⠀ › ⠀⠀ filed under ⠀ : ⠀ background ˖#syfy.task #⠀⠀⠀ › ⠀⠀ TASK⠀002 .#smoking tw #food mention tw #probs gonna change the gif later bc i think it's shit but i'm tired and the gif maker struggle is endless !

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ayyponine · 2 months

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Gary king truly such a lil emotional support guy to me. my one and only. if i could carry him around in my breast pocket i would

#at work just running thru tasks when i think abt him and. 💖#i know he would not stay in said pocket i know he would only climb out and start causing problems on purpose but my point stands #edit like sorry... file under posts that make me change phone bg to a picture of my guy 💖💖 now all i need is a breast pocket fanxx

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pinkfemgurl · 7 months

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300 notes: Use a medium plug now 600 notes: Spend $20 on sissy clothes (must be pink) 900 notes: Wear panties 24/7 from now on 1200 notes: Spend $40 on sissy clothes (must be pink) 1500 notes: Sit on a 6-inch dildo once week for 30 min 1800 notes: Listen to 1 audio file of sissy hypno before bed 2100 notes: Wear androgynous or feminine clothes at home from now on 2400 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week 2700 notes: I can cum only once a month 3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min 3300 notes: Wear androgynous or feminine clothing in public from now on 3600 notes: Wear only slutty or pink sissy clothing at home 3900 notes: I have to wear a corset under my clothes everyday 4200 notes: Use a large plug now 4500 notes: Use a smaller cage 4800 notes: I can only watch/listen to girly media, anything masculine or geared towards males is banned 5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min 5400 notes: Listen to sissy hypno every time I do anal 5700 notes: I can only cum when I'm riding a dildo and it's changed to 1 cum every 3 months 6000 notes: Make a Twitter account archiving proof and progress 6300 notes: Every week either post proof/update pics of locked chastity, gif of current dildo riding, gif of current plug insertion, and pics of current sissy outfit that I'm being made to wear from these tasks 6600 notes: I have to permanently use she/her pronouns 6900 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min 7200 notes: Lock myself in ballet heels for 3 hours every day 7500 notes: From now on edge every day for 2 hours 7800 notes: Use a smaller cage 8100 notes: Every 3 days I have to use a chastity cage with a sounding rod 8400 notes: Buy the most embarrassing humiliating sissy pink dress I can find (with all the ruffles and it locks when zipped up) 8700 notes: I can only wear a dress or skirt in public from now on 9000 notes: Get Started on Estrogen 9300 notes: Every 3 days either post proof/update pics of locked chastity, gif of current dildo riding, gif of current plug insertion, and pics of current sissy outfit that I'm being made to wear from these tasks 9600 notes: I now have to use a sounding chastity cage from now on 9900 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 5 times a week for 1 hour 10200 notes: Once a week, I have to replace my plug with a dildo while I'm out in public for the day 10500 notes: I can only cum once a year 10800 notes: Buy a fucking machine 11100 notes: Buy and use sounding rods 3 times a week for 30 min 11400 notes: Buy breast/nipple pumps and use it twice a week to increase the size 11700 notes: Put on an inverse chastity cage from now on and no more edging or unlocking 12000 notes: Start an OF 12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cocks 12600 notes: I can only cum from anal 12900 notes: Make an Amazon Wishlist and add 100 toys and clothes for anyone to buy. Anyone who buys them will get a free show with what they bought 13200 notes: Use an XL plug now 13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy 13800 notes: glue the lock shut, flush the key down the toilet, the only way I'm getting out now is if I hit 15000 notes 14100 notes: Listen to any hypno file people send me (including Bambi Sleep files) 14400 notes: Let anyone make demands in my messages, I have to obey the first message that I see per day 14700 notes: Get blackmailed by someone of my choice

^ I HAVE TO DO ALL OF THE ABOVE ^

15000 notes: Bottom surgery (My Life is Over). However I have to spend at least 25% of the entire chastity sentence in a cage before I get bottom surgery to prolong this even longer.

THE POST IS COMPLETE NO MORE NOTES ABOVE 14,813 COUNT

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parkduris · 10 months

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HOME → SOLO → DURI.

PROFILE:

STAGE NAME: Duri. BIRTH NAME: Park Duri (박두리). BIRTHDAY: December 25th, 2000. ZODIAC SIGN: Capricorn. CHINESE ZODIAC SIGN: Dragon. HEIGHT: 181cm (5'11''). WEIGHT: 65kg (145 lbs). BLOOD TYPE: AB. MBTI TYPE: INFJ. REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI: 🐶. INSTAGRAM: @\duri FANDOM NAME: durian REPRESENTATIVE COLOR: lavender (#E6E6FA)

Duri Facts:

He is from Itaewon-dong, Yongsan-du, Seoul, South Korea.

Duri has stated that he was born on December 25th, 2000 at 9:48pm. He referred to himself as a "late Christmas gift."

While growing up, Duri used to attend a vocal and music academy. He says he chose to do this instead of cram school because it interested him more.

In school, he always used to be the class representative every single year because he was friends with everyone. [Confirmed by Friend on Twitter]

He's an only child and was raised by his Uncle & Aunt.

Education: Seoul School of Performing Arts (SOPA).

He has level 10 certificates in Violin, Piano, and Guitar.

He has level 5 certificates in English and Japanese.

Duri said he learned English and Japanese on his own for a long while and completed his testing fluency before the end of high school. He says he did this because he wanted to learn, but also because he wanted to better help foreigners in Itaewon while growing up.

Duri is certified in being a vocal trainer, which he gained as a teenager.

Before debut, Duri was a Youtuber under the name "Duri's Record Shop." In October of 2017, he went semi-viral with a cover of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You"

He signed with Secret Garden in November of 2017.

He said that after he went viral, tons of Entertainment companies reached out to him, including Everlast Entertainment. However, he ultimately chose Secret Garden because they wanted to debut him soon.

Duri states that he didn't really train, besides for a few different classes. Instead, he immediately started the debut process upon entering Secret Garden.

Duri stated that when he was fourteen, he won a talent show and was approached by a bunch of different scouts. However, he didn't think they were real and turned them down.

He always dreamed of being an idol.

Duri is known for being on variety shows and being a television personality. He's been main cast in Idol Dictation Contest, New World, and Youn's Stay. He won the award, Best New Male Entertainer, at the 1st Blue Dragon Series Awards.

He's been the brand ambassador for Ghana Chocolate, Coca-Cola, and Boy De Chanel in the past.

He's a really big cook, he said he learned when he was younger, and he tries to cook as much as possible.

Has an alcohol allergy. He said he's unable to have anything containing alcohol or anything that's fermented because of his allergy.

He doesn’t have a driver’s license and says he doesn’t want one. He tends to walk or take public transport.

Known for his powerful voice and ability to portray a lot of emotions in his singing.

He can sing So Chan Whee’s “Tears” in the original female key.

Duri stated that his biggest inspirations are Whitney Houston, Céline Dion, Kelly Clarkson, Beyoncé, and various ballad singers.

Duri likes to do a lot of reading, he can often be seen reading while waiting around. He has a whole collection of books and has said at fan signs that he can’t pick a favorite book.

He says his special skills include singing high notes, singing, doing girl group dances, cooking, playing guitar, violin, and piano, English, Japanese, and being cute.

He said that he likes playing "cozy" video games and those are the only type of games that he plays.

His favorite colors are lavender and pink.

His representative emoji is 🐶.

Duri's favorite animal is dogs.

His favorite foods include pasta, anything chocolate, and hotteok.

He says he owns a collection of books, mugs, legos he built, and plushies.

#thefourprompt1 #the credit for the kprofile template goes to kapheira on deviantart #╰ ♡ filed under: task.

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nicoschoices · 9 months

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tag dump!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / about.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / face.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / starter.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / interactions.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / edits.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / task.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / text.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / events.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / answered.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / cnns.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / call.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ filed under ; they say looks can kill and i might try / extra.

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mrsoharaa · 10 months

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˗ˏˋ ❥ Sending Miguel naughty, spicy videos/audios/pictures of you whimpering and touching salaciously to yourself to the thought of him, on his bed, while he was away on a dreadful mission. 🫣🫢

#you're going to rile him up and make him loose focus at the task at hand #he'd only stumble slightly but will grumble frustratingly under his heavy breath of how much of a fucking taunt and tease you were for that #tries his ABSOLUTE best to avoid any conversations with Lyla about the random “messages” you had sent him #because we alllll KNOW she would NEVER let this down #(she of course stays out of you and his personal affairs-- but will say something sly later to him with a cocky/coy grin)#and yes #you WILL get punished for sending him those tempting naughty files of yourself to him later when he gets you cornered. (๑ ͡º ꒳ ͡º๑) ✧

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soaps-mohawk · 4 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.”

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”

“Classified?” You finish for her.

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”

The less there is to make you a target.

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.

That, and the excuse for violence.

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”

You look nervous.

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.

His omega.

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.

He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says.

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”

He hasn’t failed her yet.

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.

One more to go.

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.

He’s going to be a problem.

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.

“Coming, Si?”

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.

You can hold power over them.

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

“You lived on base?” He asks.

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.

He’s going to be a problem.

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?

What if they don’t like the way you smell?

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.

“Ready?”

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.

He’s testing you.

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.

They could if they wanted to.

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.

“You hungry, pup?”

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.

Pup. Price called you Pup.

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.

He’s proving his ability as a provider.

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #a/b/o

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