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cthulhusstepmom · 10 months

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Evidence that Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is not what he seems-Lt. SR:

Soap smells like rain, it took a while to put it together because it's not Soap himself that emits the odor, it just follows him. It's less potent inside and when it's sunny outdoors but if you concentrate it's always there.

He has never been observed touching a gun or grenades without gloves. Almost every other explosive he handles with no regard for his own safety gloves.

HE EATS WEIRD SHIT. While he doesn't eat much of the food on offer from the cafe, he does eat consistently when outdoors, usually plants or flowers. Things he has eaten: dandelions(edible), garlic(edible), thistle(edible but he ate it with the thorns), foxglove(toxic, showed no adverse reaction), Several unidentified flowers and berries, grass(technically edible?) Etc.

Will sometimes refuse to enter a place before abruptly going in. The data is not consistent between different buildings or locations. Further research is required.

Sharp teeth.

Groups things in nonsensical ways. He will only fill a magazine with bullets that total a multiple of 7 or 3. The same for what weights he uses in the gym. When drawing or eating he sorts by 4s. He traded his room to get #13 (right next door, coincidence?).

Cameras will not focus on him, whether photo or video he is never in focus regardless of distance or conditions.

He has never once been in medical for more than half an hour, usually much less. Even though his hands have light burns on them almost constantly.

Dogs hate him. He seems ambivalent towards them and he's never been bit that Ive seen. Cats adore him as do birds.

John MacTavish does not blush. Not for lack of trying even when genuinely flustered or hot, his skin does not flush.

Ghost sets down the small notebook with a minute sound of frustration. The evidence is all there but looking at it, what does it really say? Other than that he's an obsessive creep. A series of quirks and coincidences compiled by a paranoid son of a bitch into a fucking stalker journal. But still, Simon can't help but feel like he's right and he'd be dead a million times over if he simply disregarded his intuition. Even if it is something batshit insane.

At this point however it seems that it'll drive him mad far before it yields any answers. After scouring what little resources were comprehensible on the internet he'd started growing out his hair, intent on tying it in knots to prevent charms. Leaving him with a problem he'd not encountered since he'd first donned the mask: unruly curls and balaclavas don't mix well at all. He'd also kept a piece of stale bread in his pocket for days as he'd read it was a repellent to- and he can't even believe he's considering it-fairies. It backfired, if anything Johnny had been more attached to him and even more touchy than usual. He'd left a small deli cup full of coffee creamer outside his door overnight and found it neatly placed upside down where he'd left it with not a drop left. Ghost chalked that up to some wise guy playing a joke or an exceptionally dextrous cat and firmly shut the door on any other possibilities in his mind. His next test had been a gift of clothing mixed with complements, he'd read that both were likely to drive away any Other. It hadn't been a very extravagant gift, a new pair of gloves and a gruff "well done Johnny" but at the time it had seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as Soap had gone white as a sheet(he can do that but he can't blush???) and scurried off. A quiet dread had filled his stomach the whole day until Soap turned up at dinner, a little quieter than usual but wearing his new gloves and eating more than usual(a scoop and a half of mashed potatoes with 4 packets of butter and 2 packets of sour cream as well as a cookie. The main course of spaghetti and meatballs went untouched though Gaz snapped it up before it could truly go to waste). Though when Ghost returned to his room late that night after trudging through hours of paperwork he found a pile of tiny, aromatic, pink flowers on the floor in front of his door and on top of them a shiny metal comb. Simon's tired brain hardly stopped to think of any of the dire warnings he'd found on forum posts and folklore sites alike, crouching and tenderly retrieving the piece from its bed of flora, careful not to crush any of the tiny blooms. Well... With all the knots in his hair-purposeful and otherwise-he's going to need a sturdy comb anyway.

#fae!soap #superstitious bastard!Ghost #little does Ghost know that Scottish fairies actually favor bread instead of being repelled by it #meanwhile the whole clothing trick would have totally worked if it weren't for the fact that Soap took as a courting gesture #also the idea of Ghost leaving out two ounces of hazelnut coffee creamer and Soap just feeling his heart beating out of his chest #but he doesnt want to be presumptuous so he waits until hes got absolute confirmation that Ghost wishes to court him #and he gives him gloves...so he can touch him and not be burned by the iron #Soap is simultaneously three steps ahead and six steps behind #cod mw2 #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #fae!au #and to think i wanted to upload this to ao3 😑

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nerdpoe · 7 months

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Coffee, Honey, and sometimes Hazelnuts.

I wrote the beginnings of Omega verse while drunk and finished it fucking don't look at me.

Ao3

Tim may have let something slip when he was losing blood and about to go into surgery. Ra's may have taken him completely seriously and done what was requested. Tim...finds that he perhaps did not have a normal relationship with his body, and that he may have actually been Trans the entire time and just. Didn't think about it. Or, Tim demands a Secondary Gender Transition from Ra's. Ra's takes him seriously and does it while Tim's under for spleen removal (Nothing violating, just HRT and induced coma for the physical Transition). Tim wakes up an Omega instead of an Alpha and...actually is pretty okay with it.

Tim was…floaty. Woozy, even. The kind of feeling that usually meant a fantastic sleep was just around the corner.

But some inconsiderate fuck was jostling his arm.

Tim groaned and swatted at them.

“…Ah. You’re awake.”

“Oh, he’s awake? Come, Detective, open your eyes.”

Gross.

That sounded like Ra’s Al Ghul.

Time forced his eyes open just so he could glare at the man.

The asshole just looked amused.

“Fascinating. You’ve lost almost enough blood to kill you and yet, here you are. Awake.” Ra’s even sounded mildly impressed.

Tim did not want to impress Ra’s.

“Gooo f’ck yersef.”

Yes. There. That got the point across beautifully.

Ra’s, the jackass, just looked even more amused.

“I see. Well, we have to put you under to save your life, dear Detective, unless you would rather have a dip in the Pits. I would consider such an offer a…gift, if you would.”

Tim snorted, flapping his hand at Ra’s and inadvertently slapping a ninja nurse in the face.

Whoops.

“On’y gift I neeeeed is. Is. Heats.”

Ra’s raised an eyebrow.

“I denand the. The. I wanna bee uh ‘Mega.”

Ra’s raised his other eyebrow.

“…I see. Very well, Detective. I hope you enjoy this…little gesture of goodwill.”

“Fuhuuck yew very moch.”

“Indeed.”

~~~~~~

Tim woke up.

That was something he hadn’t really been expecting, but he was thrilled to do it nonetheless.

Less thrilling was where he was.

A bedroom draped in silks and finery, with the security risk of wide windows, an open door that led to an uncomfortably extravagant bathroom, and a weird smell. It was a good scent, to be sure, but when Tim sat up there was no one present but himself.

So…huh.

Tim sniffed the air.

The scent was definitely a person’s. Coffee and Honey, and a lingering afterscent of roasted hazelnuts.

It was pleasant.

It was also an Omega scent.

Which made Tim even more confused; Ra’s was an Alpha, and this definitely wasn’t Talia’s scent. Nor was it Pru’s. So who’s room was he in? And why did he feel so rested? He almost never felt like that.

Tim swung his legs over the edge of the bed, noting the lack of chains, and stood up to stretch.

He…felt good? He felt comfortable in his skin? He never felt comfortable in his skin. He braced himself for his own scent as he stretched, but instead was met with more of that strange Omega’s scent.

Wait.

Tim reached up and rubbed one of his own scent glands, giving himself a sniff.

Coffee. Honey. Lingering Roasted Hazelnuts.

Omega.

Which was a huge change, because the last time Tim had checked he was absolutely an Alpha with a, for some reason, repugnant scent. (Everyone swore to him it was all in his head, but he knew he reeked.)

Then he remembered the last thing he said to Ra’s.

Tim tensed, waiting to feel…something. Revulsion. Betrayal.

But there was nothing.

He just…felt like Tim; for the first time since he was an unpresented Pup.

Tim sat back down and wrinkled his nose, lifting the League shirt he was wearing to check on the stab wound he knew he’d had coming in.

It was healing nicely, and given the length of time for a transition, he’d been under for about a month.

He didn’t feel any abnormal aches or pains, so not only was it done correctly and in a controlled environment, but he hadn’t been raped. He knew the signs to look for and none were present.

He was absolutely going to go to a Crisis Center as soon as he could just to be sure, and Turkey was home to some of the best of the best, so he was confident that if he had been violated he would find everything he’d need resource wise no problem. But he felt like he had a bead on how Ra’s worked; that if Ra’s wanted to use him like that, he’d want Tim awake to…struggle. As disgusting as that was.

But he hadn’t.

Ra’s really had just…given Tim a free Transition to a different Secondary Gender.

Tim tried, he really did, to dredge up any resentment for the Transition.

He was angry that he was clearly being held by Ra’s. He was pissed that Ra’s would even consider that Tim would be so stupid as to think those windows weren’t lined with assassins just out of sight. He was annoyed at the lack of obvious trackers, as that meant there was probably a subdermal one. He was scared for Pru. He was worried about Tam.

But regarding changing Secondary Gender?

He only felt…relief.

“Wait, was I trans the entire time?”

Hated his own scent? Check; Bruce and Dick were always getting onto him about abusing scent blockers. Always felt like crawling out of his skin? Check; it usually manifested in burying himself in work. Avoided mirrors? Check; he just couldn’t, even though he knew that Secondary Genders didn’t really effect outward appearance like Primary Genders. Aversion to Rut sex? Check; Rut hadn’t given him any sex drive at all, it’d just increased his anxiety to the point where he was prescribed suppressants and anti-anxiety medication.

Tim rerouted his thinking, considering the same situations with his current Secondary Characteristics.

Scent? He actually rather enjoyed it; he definitely wouldn’t be wearing scent blockers unless he had to. Actually settled in his own skin? Yup, and he even felt…languid? Was that the word? It felt like the word.

He stood up and walked into the adjoined bathroom, took a deep breath, and looked into the mirror.

That…that certainly was a Tim. From toe to tip, that was a Tim.

And he didn’t feel any particular way about the reflection, aside from the thought that he should brush his hair and teeth. There was no uncomfortable part of his brain that had him squirming, he didn’t feel the instinctive need to find any excuse not to look in the mirror.

It was just Tim.

He felt his shoulders relax.

He couldn’t know how different his Heats would be from how is Ruts had been, but given that during a Transition a Heat or Rut was inevitable while the Transitionee was under, and the fact that he actually felt well rested?

He was going to assume that his Heats were far better and easier on his body than his Ruts had been, but he couldn’t know for sure until he’d experienced a Heat.

…He wasn’t dreading it, though. Not the way the thought of future Ruts would fill him with a slow, stacking anxiety.

So.

Tim was trans.

Tim…Tim was a detective, though? How had he not noticed that sooner? Looking back on it it was super obvious but like. He hadn’t noticed?

Did everyone feel this settled in their own skin?!

Was this how people normally felt?! No wonder everyone gave him strange looks! He’d thought all of that was normal!

The door opened, distracting Tim from his thoughts. Which was good, because he’d been about to go off on a mental tangent about being an idiot.

The assassin that had come in only spared him a glance as the guy set down a tray of food.

“So…is Pru okay?” Tim ventured, slowly stepping out of the bathroom.

The assassin snorted.

“She is well enough to undergo further training, to ensure mistakes like that do not happen again. Orientation will begin after you’ve eaten, then the Demon Head would speak with you.”

Tim blinked.

“Wait, you’d actually let me have Orientation?”

The assassin sniffed, clearly offended even as he straightened up and turned towards the door.

“We are not savages. Honestly, Americans.” The man muttered as he left.

~~~~~~

“-And so, in conclusion, while a Heat does make you more inclined to intercourse and does heighten the experience, it does not strip you of your autonomy. Should you feel that such is happening, it is advised to seek medical attention immediately; that is abnormal, and you have either been drugged or need medical intervention due to an extreme hormonal imbalance.”

Tim nodded along politely. He’d already known, but Orientation was important when Transitioning.

“For now, we shall practice performing a Rebuke. Do as you would with a Command, and your new physiology should handle the rest. Like so; Copy me.”

Tim twitched against the command, and fought against his innate need to fight it.

“..Copy me?”

“Very good.” The Omega Consultant in front of him nodded and wrote something in his tablet. Tim tried his best not to fidget. “Next is what to expect during a pregnancy, should you choose to pursue that.”

‘I wanted this, I wanted this, I wanted this-‘ Tim chanted to himself as he got Sex Ed version 2.0.

~~~~~~

Dick was definitely not barely staving off a mental breakdown on his couch.

He totally hadn’t waited until Damian was asleep to bury himself in blankets and stare blankly at a dead TV.

Dick was fine. Dick was okay. Dick had to be okay, because if he wasn’t then he couldn’t be there for Damian and he couldn’t be ready for when Tim got back.

He’d told his little brother he trusted him, and he meant it, but that trust didn’t stop Dick from missing his pack’s shortest Alpha.

On the coffee table, his phone lit up and started vibrating.

A bright, cheery tone reserved for Tim, derived from the song he hated the most, rang out into the living room.

Dick almost faceplanted into the coffee table for how quickly he lunged for the tiny glowing screen, but he managed to save himself and fumble the phone to his ear.

“Tim! Hey! How’s it going? Are you okay? Do you need reinforcement?”

But instead of Tim’s voice, a deep, hoarse chuckle made it through the speaker.

Dick knew that voice.

Ra’s.

“Where’s Tim?” Dick breathed, tense and still.

“The young Detective isn’t really meant to be an Alpha, I feel,” the old assassin said instead of answering Dick, “I merely wanted to inform you of a delay in his return, should he choose to return at all. He needs time to…adjust. To his new body.”

Dick couldn’t feel his toes, and only barely managed to keep a grasp on the phone.

He opened his mouth to threaten Ra’s, probably demand to know where Tim was again, but all that came out was one of the loudest, most feral Growls he’d ever let loose.

“How is it? Being the only Alpha of your Pack now, with your Leader gone? You are watching after my grandson, after all; I simply need to ensure he will be raised in a stable environment.” Ra’s voice was full of false pity, and Dick could no longer see anything in front of him clearly.

“Do not fucking touch him!” Dick finally Commanded, guttural and loud and definitely waking Damian up.

“Oh, it’s a bit too late for that, I fear; who else would I trust to handle his Transition? Do tell my grandson I wish him well.” With that, the line went dead.

Dick was left standing in the living room, on the verge of hyperventilating, tense and shaking and furious.

“…Richard?” Damian’s voice asked, and Dick heard the Beta Pup quietly approaching him from his left.

Dick dropped the phone and dragged Damian to him, burying his nose in the Pup’s hair. He was distantly aware of the Beta letting out a hesitant, quiet purr in an effort to calm him, but he couldn’t vocalize his gratitude for the action.

They stayed like that, Dick caging Damian in with his arms and Damian letting him, for about fifteen minutes.

Then Dick shakily raised his head and reached for his phone.

He couldn’t leave Gotham; Tim would never forgive him if Batman left Gotham undefended in such a tumultuous time.

But he knew an Omega who could, would, and would take great pleasure in putting Ra’s down.

~~~~~~

Jason rolled over and answered the phone.

He hadn’t been sleeping anyways, so fuck it.

He held the phone to his ear.

He listened.

Green flooded the room, the source being his eyes, as he sat up.

“Ra’s did fucking what?”

~~~~~~

Tim walked into the meeting room just as Ra’s ended a call with someone.

Using Tim’s phone.

Goddammit, he’d done something to make Tim’s life harder.

The Alpha handed Tim’s phone to a random assassin with a bored-“Destroy this.”

Tim kept his face clear of any emotion. He had the stupid thing cloned anyways, he’d just go find the backup once he was done with whatever Ra’s wanted.

Turned out, Ra’s had gone ahead and grabbed Tam.

Tim could only get Tam back if he took out the Council of Spiders.

Tim did his posturing, as did Ra’s, and the dance was a relatively new one but felt like they’d done it time and time again.

As Tim was being escorted out, though, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why help me with…with the other thing? If you think you can cash it in later, let me tell you-“

“Why would I deny you an operation I myself had to have to be better?” Ra’s interrupted, genuine curiosity on his face. “I expect you to handle the Council of Spiders, young Detective; you would not be fighting at your best if you did not fit into your own skin.”

Tim was verbally punched into silence.

Huh.

The assassins led him into a different section, into a room that had his Red Robin suit repaired and ready for him.

…Huh.

Tim still intended to cripple Ra’s organization, and it felt gross to have something in common with the Alpha, but the new Omega decided that he could handle the trade of having something in common if it meant finally feeling like himself.

He seriously was going to fuck Ra’s over, though.

He just had to call basically everyone on his phone’s contact list first to do damage control for…whatever the creep had done.

Fucking Ra’s.

@aeoliantectrix @lollilollipop99 @tanu-kai @lykoscor @theobliviousshipper @simplestoryteller

#tim drake #red robin #batman #fanfic #omegaverse #omega verse #jason todd #damian wayne #tam fox #prudence wood #dick grayson #ra's al ghul #implied/referenced rape #it didn't happen but tim thinks about it and dick and jason think it did #yes I'll make a separate post regarding the worldbuilding #omegaverse au #coffee honey and sometimes hazelnuts au

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