#<- i have mentioned hating the military to her several times and shes like No yeah me too . which is a win i suppose..

[nomaishuttle]

omg and i got to meet daj's cat nala and her dog simba theyre so sweetsies

[salmalin]

My sincerest apologies and warmest welcome to my rant about FF7: Crisis Core. Or, as I like to call it,

Propaganda: The Video Game

I say this with the utmost affection. Crisis Core ranks really high up there in my favorite Final Fantasy 7 installments. I played it when it first came out, borrowing it from a friend to play on a borrowed PSP. And, the more I learn about the game and the more I replay it, the more everything lines up.

This game is not about Zack Fair.

This game is about how Capitalistic Propaganda can sink into every aspect of life to the point where it is entirely indistinguishable from reality. And it’s very overt about it. So…

Here we go.

My treatise on Propaganda’s starring role in Crisis Core.

Part One: The Timeline

Something that a lot of people gloss over due to decades of Child Heroes in media—Japanese Shonen and Shoujo series in particular—is how young these protagonists are. We’ll hand-wave a lot of stuff in non-live-action series with just a little bit of suspension of disbelief. And that’s honestly just accepted these days. But here’s the thing about those hand-waves.

Final Fantasy 7 doesn’t do that.

Now, FF7 hand-waves a lot of stuff. For example, how far you can travel in a day by foot, the distance a man weighing approximately 165lbs can jump after being genetically fused with what might as well be a cocaine demon (Jenova), and how much hairspray one can reasonably carry on a cross-country journey while on the run from the feds.

Age is not one of them.

Exhibit A: Yuffie Kisaragi.

Do I really need to say more? She acts her age. So does Zack. And Aerith, even. Most of the characters in the original lineup were over twenty for a good reason. We see several kids in the series, and they all act their age, too—both the OG and the remake. Age is not a thing that FF7 really grapples with. It’s something they take relatively seriously.

Now, to the point.

Zack is 16 when Crisis Core starts…

… and he was 13 when he ran away from home without his parents’ knowledge to join the military.

Which accepted him.

At 13.

Without a parental permission slip.

Think about that for a second.

… Or for the next several parts of this breakdown.

Part Two: The Main Character

As I mentioned in the introduction, Zack is not the main character of the events of Crisis Core. Instead, he is the focal point of the second person POV. This is not the first time Square has done this. It was done most notably with FF9, FF10, and FF12. (I’m not going to go on an Akira Kurosawa rant right now, but please check out his film “The Hidden Fortress”. FF12 and Star Wars episodes 4-6 borrow heavily from this film.) The purpose and position of this character is such that they might best witness the effects the other characters make on the world as their stories unfold, usually in the role of a love interest. For Akira Kurosawa, it may have been told this way because these people are most effected by the decisions being made.

“Well, then, Sal,” you may be asking, “who would you say is the main character? Would that be Aerith, since she’s the love interest, like in the other games?”

No, actually.

It’s the antagonist.

And by that, I mean Genesis.

Hear me out. I used to hate Genesis, for I was once young, full of judgement for flamboyancy (thanks, internalized homophobia), and was led by the narrative to believe he was mean to his friends. Then I met my Lovely beta who loved him, so I wrote a fic for her as a gift. So for that I kinda just… read stuff. Because that’s the thing about Propaganda—you gotta read stuff to navigate it. I read the in-game emails. I re-watched all the scenes I could get my hands on with him. I read his wiki and tried to track down more information about him. Then I watched the scenes in Japanese and gained a better understanding of not just Genesis, but Sephiroth’s character. And I realized that Genesis was put on this road from the start. In fact, a big part of the fact that he’s seen the way he is in Canon—only at his most hostile and lowest points—is because the story is told through Zack’s point of view.

So before we get into the breakdown, here’s the hard facts about Genesis.

1. He was a test tube baby who may or may not technically be Angeal’s fraternal twin brother, which we are not going to unpack right now.

2. He was adopted by a relatively rich family.

3. He was a child genius (which requires not only resources, but drive to achieve), and at a tender young age of like… ten or something? He decided to mess around and literally invented pasteurization. Which is incredible, and really speaks to his knowledge of the world and ability to grasp complex concepts even at a young age. But, again, this is not the time or place to unpack that.

4. He was best friends with Angeal, who might as well have been the sweetest, kindest boy to ever walk the Planet. (I’m biased. I love him.)

5. As a teenager, he became fixated on Sephiroth, who had gained national acclaim as a SOLDIER despite them being the same age. (Please see part 1 and think about that for a second.) He then goes to join SOLDIER and brings Angeal with him. And Angeal brings his step-father’s puritanical “hard work is honorable” mindset with him. (On that note, Angeal and his father’s arc really are a wonderfully scathing letter to companies that overwork their employees and how toxic/unhealthy that line of thinking is. But. Again. We are not unpacking that right now.)

6. At one point he became consumed with LOVELESS, a series of poems with heavy prose and symbolism thicker than syrup. It got to the point where he was so well known for it that there was an entire fanclub dedicated to both him and analyzing the text.

7. While he was in SOLDIER, he repeatedly had his achievements publicly accredited… to Sephiroth.

Over and over and over again.

Everyone did, really. They mention it in the beginning of the game. Sephiroth even got public credit for Zack’s raid on the castle when he wasn’t even there. How much of his legacy is real? How much of it is made up? How much of it was faked? We don’t know. No one knows. But he keeps getting credit, anyways. And when Genesis confronts him about it, Sephiroth doesn’t care. In the Japanese version of their fight scene, you could even say he indirectly implies that he wants Genesis to take his place as the “hero”. In the English, Sephiroth’s line is, “Come and try.” But in the Japanese the line is closer to, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Which, depending on how you take his tone, can mean wildly different things—from mocking, to earnest, or even admiration—which is especially to tell because he might be annoyed with Genesis at the moment.

Fun Fact: In Ever Crisis, Sephiroth explicitly says they are making up his achievements in the press to target boys his age for recruitment. (Thus why they accepted Zack at age 13.)

My theory on this line is that he is being cynical; that Genesis doesn't understand just how harrowing and even humiliating his experience has been. This only enforces my theory that the "come and try" translation in the English not only does a disservice to a line as wonderfully heavy as, "Wouldn't that be nice?", but fundamentally misunderstands Sephiroth as a character.

8. Genesis then took the fight to Shin-Ra. Inspiring a good chunk of their staff to leave the company, he then staged multiple attacks on facilities, staff, and the main building—which also spilled out into the city of Midgar. He murdered his parents, buried them, killed everyone in town, and… Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of innocent people died simply because they were vaguely associated with Shin-Ra. These are the actions of a villain. What’s more, this is clearly a sign that he has been acclimatized to death and violence by Shin-Ra to the point where he doesn’t even consider taking hostages.

Except.

Except the entire town was a Shin-Ra town.

Banora, canonically, was a Shin-Ra built town, which means everyone there was basically an employee of the company. No one was safe. Everyone was a threat. And that…

That was how he was raised. And he finally knew the truth—that every moment of his life was touched, controlled by Shin-Ra, all the way down to his very conception. He has never known freedom. He has never known his own identity. And now that very cage was killing him, slowly and painfully, and turning him into something that couldn’t even be recognized as human. He was watching himself rot in the mirror, and it was all because of Shin-Ra’s greed. And as he searched for salvation, he sunk into LOVELESS as he always had, hinging his entire life on Minerva’s Gift because he knew he was dying and that was all he had.

9. And then he died…

10. … but then it turned out LOVELESS was actually kind of a blueprint, and he did meet the Goddess, and he did get reborn without his degradation so he was rewarded for his journey in the end.

So why wasn’t Genesis the main character of the game?

Simple.

His actions challenge the status quo without being about the status quo. It’s a story about revenge. It’s a story about retribution. It’s a story about answering mass violence with mass violence and ultimately being rewarded by it. And while, yes, the series is an action-based violence simulator, the violence in the original FF7 was a guided, tactical effort. (For all that the characters aren’t the brightest bulbs in the sun lamps.) But the biggest, most obvious shift in the narrative happened when they realized their role as terrorists—bringing mass violence to the company via bombing and open aggression—was just resulting in increasing levels of retaliation against uninvolved people. They might as well have been a child beating the ankles of a giant. The goals and themes of the game fundamentally change when they realize that answering mass-scale societal violence with mass-scale physical violence was not only unsustainable, but also wasn’t going to solve their problem.

FF7 is about change and learning when violence—and what kind of violence—is appropriate in the face of different threats.

Genesis’ arc undermines all of that, and making him the main character would contradict the very heart of the OG game.

So, instead, we are positioned as Zack, connected to him through a mutual friend. From there we see all the damage and horror this vengeance brings to those living under the status quo.

But also, that plotline’s a major downer in a lot of ways, so they needed to lighten things up a bit to keep audience involved. And that’s why Zack is, well…

Part Three: Zack is a Himbo

Please, for the love of all that is holy, keep in mind that everything I say here is with the utmost affection.

Zack is dumb as a rock.

He is a charismatic, enthusiastic sixteen year old jock who ran away from home at thirteen years old to join the military. Which, please know, why I say “military” I mean “private security guard force with a standard-issue Death Baton and a license to kill”. The first scene in the game is him being excited that he gets to murder a bunch of people in a simulation, which he is immediately scolded for by his mentor. He is a glorified, souped up private security guard who is canonically only in it for the glory at first. He wants to be a “hero”, but doesn’t seem to fundamentally know what that means. And, over the course of the story, the definition of that clearly changes for him.

Which tracks, because the story takes place over a period of time with high stress.

Occasionally I see people saying they wish that Zack had more complexity to him, and honestly? The game. Would be. SO. BAD.

Full Disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of Zack specifically because he lacks a lot of nuance. I wish he was a bit more complex, too. But I also know that would break the game. What’s worse, if he was still on Shin-Ra’s side because he understood Shin-Ra’s mission… Well… That would make him a villain, or a cog at best. That’s not main character material. It would make the ending more messed up, though.

Anywho, Zack was thirteen when he left home. He had no formal education. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing. He even joined without a permission slip from his parents. This means that Shin-Ra was accepting thirteen, possibly fourteen year olds into the military. (Some people will say this tracks because you can get a job at fourteen in many parts of Japan. But, and this is important, you aren’t allowed to be a security guard until you’re quite a bit older, and you need a specific license for it, much like in the US.) Clearly they didn’t teach this boy critical thinking skills. Not because he’s a himbo, but because having their Super-Powered Private Security Force With A License To Kill think independently would explicitly go against their interests. (EX: Genesis.)

Shin-Ra needs SOLDIERs to follow orders or the company would no longer be able to function. Seconds and Thirds aren’t even allowed to reject missions. (One could argue that sending certain someone on back-to-back missions would be a good way for them to eliminate undesirables within the ranks by sending them to their deaths, which… would make an incredible fic idea, actually.) We already know that First, Second, and Third Class rank assignments do not actually reflect the power of the SOLDIER. This is canon. I would instead argue that those who make the rank of First Class aren’t necessarily the most powerful, but are instead the most visible in the media, thus the easiest to market, and/or the easiest to manipulate and control. (For a great example of this, see The Umbrella Academy.)

The point is, Zack may have been elevated to his position as a first specifically because he is malleable and single-minded. Even after all he saw with Genesis, he stuck by the company to the very end, with the exception of the time Sephiroth was literally guiding him to fail a mission. Zack allowed himself to take Shin-Ra’s side every time, taking down their enemies and following their orders, preserving his “honor as SOLDIER” as he had been taught. The only thing that made him stop…

… was literally getting put in a jar.

It was when he was no longer a SOLDIER.

Part Four: Honor

There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

I repeat: There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.

It is a fictional thing that is borne of an ideology based around hard work. It only has power because it is believed in. It is an intangible social construct similar to the law, mathematical order of operations, and gender roles. So why are Angeal and Zack obsessed with it?

Pretty simple.

Angeal’s step-father followed it.

Now, we know three things about Angeal’s step-father.

1. He was chill with the fact that Gillian was already pregnant when they started dating.

2. He was a very good father.

3. He worked himself to death trying to pay off the sword he bought Angeal.

This, of course, says a lot about Angeal considering he rarely uses the sword. He essentially sees that sword as the symbol of his step-father’s life. Everything he uses it for, he sees as more important than his step-father’s life. That thing is usually Zack.

Zack, who is the child who joined the military based on stories of heroes.

Zack, who rises against Angeal in the name of his own step-father’s ideology and tries to talk him down, even at the very end. But Zack fails because he fundamentally doesn’t understand what’s going on, partially because “Soldier Honor” is just one more aspect of this narrative he was given. It is a narrative that Angeal has had to step away from, even though he doesn’t want to leave the memory of his step-father behind. He was a good man. He was a good, hardworking man.

And that is why he died.

Corporations will use you up until there is nothing left, then honor your memory/sacrifice. Shin-Ra was doing the exact same thing the company his step-father worked for did; using up SOLDIERs until they outlived their usefulness. And Angeal was horrified to realize that his “SOLDIER Honor” wasn’t honor at all.

It was willingly submitting to control.

But, unlike Angeal, over time, this meaning changed for Zack. Partially because he didn't understand it fully in the first place. It became about acting with integrity. It became about helping people. It became about not lying down and watching the abuse Shin-Ra handed out in exchange for literal money; for maintaining the status quo.

At the very end, Zack understood what it meant to be a hero.

Part Five: The Conclusion

To sum up, Zack believed in and idolized the propaganda spread by Shin-Ra at such a young age, and was so convinced by it, that he ran away from home at thirteen to join the military.

He was their target demographic, so they happily took him into their ranks. What’s more, people think this is normal enough that we see no one opposing this, because the only people who oppose Shin-Ra are “extremists” or “violent terrorists”.

Zack then became their loyal puppy, groomed to fill his role as super-powered attack dog to sick on anyone they deemed appropriate, and he filled the role. He believed he was doing good. He didn’t think they were invading another country, because that’s not what he was told.

He went after Genesis, because that’s what he was told, and he wouldn’t let Genesis’ actions shake his faith in the company.

Then he went after Angeal, hoping to get answers, only to become more confused. Angeal taught him about SOLDIER honor. He taught him about a higher calling. He was the one who made Zack truly loyal to the company. This challenged everything Zack knew.

He went with Sephiroth, planning a small rebellion of their own (a white lie on paperwork) to get answers, only to find things he wasn’t ready for and couldn’t fully understand.

Zack is shaken by each of these events. Horribly. At times, we even watch him grieve. But time and time again, he doesn’t leave the company. He sees the damage they do first hand, and he doesn’t leave the company. The company isn’t the problem, to him. He reads their emails, does their dirty work, and “maintains his SOLDIER honor”.

Zack swallows what they give him right up until what they give him is torture.

Zack swallows what they give him until he becomes their victim.

Every step of the way, Zack is fed a story of how the world is. He was raised on it. He lived it. He became part of it. He was paid peanuts to enforce the status quo Shin-Ra installed in the world by force, and he was proud of it because it was, to him, something to be proud of.

Zack believes the propaganda whole-sale, and we get to watch, from the point of view of an outsider, as it slowly destroys his life before killing him.

Propaganda has the power to make suffering normal. Propaganda has the power to make murder righteous. Propaganda has the power to take a thirteen year old boy out of his home so they can give him a sword, and when they point him in the direction of their enemies he charges of his own volition, because they made him believe in their cause. And he believes in their cause because he believes that it makes life better for everyone.

But that’s not what’s actually happening.

That’s just what he was told.

Crisis Core is about propaganda, and the depths to which it can affect our lives. It changes our belief systems. It changes our perceptions of reality. And when it’s torn down around our eyes, it can make us go insane. It can make us violent and unreasonable as we realize just how much violence is being forced upon us—violence other people just plain do not see. It's just a a piece of paper. It's just a law. It's just a job.

It's just a war.

Final Fantasy 7 was about Fascism.

Crisis Core is about the propaganda that built it. It is told from the point of view of a boy, then a man, steeped in it. He watches until the people suffering around him—Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal—are twisted into villains by the truths and lies around them. Genesis and Angeal are tortured by truths, Sephiroth is transformed by lies, and Zack is subsequently hunted down to conceal them.

Crisis Core is Propaganda: The Video Game.

[rayroseu]

Wait this is actually interesting, so from what the story implies, Wild Rose Castle is weaker than Black Scale Castle because it probably has no magical atmosphere that serves as its defense, there's probably fewer troops here, and the fact that its just on a clear meadow makes the terrain not suitable for defenses unlike Black Scale who is atop a mountain and covered in a Valley.

So I kinda think that Wild Rose Castle is a newly built castle in Briarland. After all, Meleanor was a kid only 200 years ago so Wild Briar is probably that age as well (or more), i think that age is young (compared to Black Scale which probably several centuries old?) thats why it has weaker defense facilities.

Maybe Wild Briar is older as Black Scale, but this game says this is Meleanor's castle so I assume she's the one who had built this.

But I have this HC that this castle is actually built because of Levan. For his diplomatic mission between humans. Building a castle in an easy terrain would make sense to make it easier for magicless humans to transport in. Because I don't really expect(?) Maleanor who is a military commander, which she probably has knowledge of strategies, to not see how disadvantegous this location is considering its close to humans

But I also think Wild Briar was built as like a refuge for the faes that live far away outside Dragon City(I wont call it dragonopolis lol)

Wild Rose being a few centuries old also kinda makes sense since the Silver Owls only recognize Meleanor as the only ruler in Briarland, they probably arent aware theres a queen named Maleficia because she's ancient(?) atleast I didnt caught any silver owls mentioning her iirc(?) They went to the mountains near Dragon city yes-- but like it was to pursue General Lilia and not to besiege Black Scale as well even they kinda had the potential to do so since they took down Maleanor and Silver Owls' is implied to be very greedy--

I actually think its more interesting to not summarize Maleanor's cause of death as just her overestimating her win against Knight of Dawn-- I actually think its because of several reasons such as:

"Wrong time" in working out the diplomatic relations between the conflict between humans and faes, Levan's plan to educate wasn't pointless effort, but I wish the story states as well what he did to counter the fact that the faes hates humans not because of a misunderstanding, but because of their mistreatment towards faes(the story literally implies rhe humans kills faes meanwhile we have yet to see a royal guard fae that killed humans the story only tells us they chased them away), Levan does this when its clear that the Silver Owls was getting hostile, like objectively speaking, this was kinda not the right time to communicate and Meleanor was the receiving end of the build up hostility of the Silver Owls

This is kinda countering my first point, but Meleanor's decisions was kinda weird too in the story lol, why send your best Generals to the enemy fortress.... ����💥 But I actually think this is interesting as well, because its likely a reference to the wars in LiveAction Maleficent... I remember watching that movie especially Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil and just wondering why the Moors never plans (and even if they do its very simple, just charge in and overpower the enemy with strength), they just charge in instead of treating it "like a chess" where you save your best pieces in dangerous situations and everyone has a role in dispelling the enemy. They also hold this belief that only the strong ones would guarantee their success and heavily relies on them. Meanwhile, Queen Ingrid used deception and control to subdue all the faeries. Like Meleanor/Faes vs Humans, the faes never thinks about what the human enemy plans, they rely on raw dodging it lol probably alluding to the fact that the faes have trouble thinking like a human.

And lastly this point lol, poor choice of headquarters, the terrain is easy for humans to invade in, and the castle is still weak, also the fact that Wild Briar was alone in fighting several human nations was a factor as well because it couldnt get back up in time because it was too far away from Black Scale Castle, kinda adding Wild Briar was outnumbered too atp

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why I'm not big into TFP Arcee

Now don't get me wrong, TFP Arcee is the only version of the character I'll ever give almost 100% respect. However, I'm really tired of all the gushing and praise she gets, and that's not counting how much I ended up hating her in S2. Now, admittedly, most of my beef with her is in her treatment of Smokescreen, but in light of @chaoticcreatorgardendean's points about her characterization in S1, I'll lightly tackle her problems there.

No worries, this - shouldn't, I hope - be as bad as my dressing down of Jack.

So, when Arcee is introduced, we're told in pretty rapid fashion that she's 1 an aft-kicker in her own right, 2 has a traumatic backstory that left her with a procupine-like exterior to everyone, and 3 that she's very much not all that caring. Yes, I clearly recall her protective streak with Jack; however, that came after she ditched housesitting duty in favor of blowing off steam on patrol. Right here, we see a couple of vices to Arcee's character: she's arrogant in how her skills are used (further emphasized with her arguing against being Jack's guardian), and that she is irresponsible. Face it, she knows better than anyone in the audience that Bulkhead's got a spine made out of chocolate when it comes to kids or pressure of any kind that's not from a Decepticon. To leave him in charge with Miko, the single most strong-willed being in this continuity after Optimus and Megatron, is so reckless and immature that it borders on stupidity. No, she didn't realize that Miko would join the battlefield, but it's pretty dang clear that Miko is a force of nature unto herself. Butter spines + Bombs of willpower = the Butter spines losing. That's just a fact, and it tells us that Arcee, while pretty and bad-butt, has many flaws.

Then comes her saga of arcs with Jack. Not only is she shown to be immature and hypocritical when the race episode comes up, but she also chafes/bites back at authority, even from Optimus. Don't forget, anytime Airachnid or Starscream/revenge was on the table, she flew off the handle and went straight for the kill, practically giving the finger to Optimus numerous times while doing so. Heck, I don't think Optimus even grounded her at base for her insubordination, and while that's kinda respectable insofar as Optimus not being harsh to his pseudo family, it's a tactical risk when letting Arcee's wrath and hatred go unchecked or even unpunished. No joke, Arcee continually almost got herself and others killed when she was greedy for revenge or offended by a bratty kid; the fact that she's not really punished (I'm not counting the race episode because she still disobeyed orders to make Jack look good for the stupid chick) at all is a writing and military failure on everyone involved. Letting her get away with this and not learning from her mistakes, when even Miko (who was also filled to the brim with rage and grief) knew after killing Hardshell that it didn't change what she felt/what happened, is - I don't even know how to categorize it.

Yeah, it's relatable that Arcee is like this, but it's stupid that she doesn't learn, not to mention dangerous for those who try acting like her. In real life, there would have been severe consequences for her actions but, since this is fantasy land where strong females can do whatever and walk away scot-free, a blind eye is turned to Arcee.

Now we come to my biggest problem.

Her treatment of Smokescreen.

I understand that his attitude/personality at first is gonna grate on her nerves, but even slow Bulkhead gave him a better wakeup call by saying what amounted to, "Look at me, kid. You really think war is easy and that you can just go in guns blazing and jump us closer to victory?"

Pits of Kaon, that was literally more thoughtful and thought provoking than Arcee's demeaning points. All she ever did was make him the butt of her own sarcastic commentary, pick on him with various condescending nicknames, and then lash out whenever he was already kicking himself for messing something up. Smokescreen held himself to high standards, an issue that Bulkhead knew and empathized with due to his own insecurities, and tried to comfort him and lift the burden from his shoulders. Smokescreen wouldn't take it because he knew he'd been the one to fail, and felt like a failure and dead weight whenever his presence didn't bring something good to the table. He never wanted it to be all about glory, or fame, or really anything superficial. He just wanted to prove his worth, carry his weight, and do his part.

But Arcee never or wouldn't see that. Instead, she just saw a kid with a supposedly inflated ego and chose to read him the riot act when he was already doing that to himself fourteen different ways from Sunday. She didn't care enough about Smokescreen to actually listen and think "Okay, that's what's going on in his head"; she just wanted someone who would "take things seriously" and was gonna verbally abuse him until he "got the message".

Sweetheart, if you want him to mature, you help him by guiding his steps, nurturing his virtues, and helping him up when he's fallen. You don't do it by telling him how much he stinks for not grasping the state of things in the time it takes to blink, or by kicking him when he's down. All that tells him is that he's a waste of time for the people he's dedicated his whole life to helping, which in turn will make him self-destruct. Now luckily, Smokescreen was of a stronger constitution, and therefore shook off the doubt and fear of ineptitude when faced with bigger problems, but if he were anyone else, who's to say he wouldn't have eaten a bullet out of despair? Arcee would've then had the blood of an innocent life on her conscience, and nothing could have made up for that.

I do, objectively, like TFP Arcee, especially compared to her alternate counterparts.

I just can't stand how she got off so easily so many times.

Well, hope y'all enjoyed this, even though I'm pretty sure I did worse to her than I anticipated.

Til next time -

"Roll out!"

[hairybirthdayclown]

vi. astrology notes

*(not a pro. just for fun)

• i think cancer placements are quite intimidating & no one mentions this. any placement can be intimidating if they're in the wrong crowd but specifically for cancer, people who are not in tune with their feelings can find them quite intimidating. especially their overly emotional tendancies that can rub some people the wrong way. that's why they're quite hated because society was wired to deem such behaviour as weak.

• a mix of cancer & virgo in a natal chart can make someone very open to dealing with unpleasant feelings if it's something that has do be done in order to progress. i think they're also the type to have a "i'll do_____ when i become_____" mentality especially with 6H placements in the chart because they tend to be prone to perfectionism.

• just an observation, but from what i've gathered from my cringey/annoying classmates i had in highschool, most of them had air/fire Sun signs.

to clarify, when i say cringey i mean yelling tiktok audios which would disrupt class or saying unnecessary 'jokes' in which the teachers awkwardly & PAINFULLY had to fake laugh at. everyday was torture but they were a bit friendly. annoying would be randomly starting a fight with a teacher for a stupid reason.

• a person who i've been involved with that had the best energy & aura from all the people i've come across had Sun, Mercury & Mars opposite Uranus and Moon square Uranus. people who have a generational planet as one of their dominant planets have a very striking presence.

• i don't know if this has any sort of significance but my friends 3H cusp is in 10° & she doesn't like using slang unironically or altering her speech with whatever is trending on the internet at the moment like how most people incorporate it in theirs. she hates the word 'rizz' & etc.

• you can never go wrong with astrocartography. the place in which i'm going for higher education at is exactly where my Jupiter line is which will grant me growth, travel & major opportunities.

speaking of astrocartography, a friend of mine lives on her Pluto line & she constantly mentions how she wants to get out of the country & move away. not because it's anything severe but she says she has always felt the urge to leave.

• the last time Mars was transiting my 3H, my cousin got recruited for the military (Mars represents war), my other external family members were always being talked about by my parents more than usual in an disrespectful manner & one of my uncles was being quite demanding/assertive.

• as clichè as it sounds, a guy i know regularly travels to visit his mom & he has the Moon in 9H. my brother who has the same placement travels too from where he lives just to come home. the Moon represents your family, maternal figure & the 9H represents long distance travel.

• it can be difficult for people who have Mars square Neptune to manifest because you might be conflicted with how easy it is. they would rather achieve their goals the practical way especially if Mars is in aries, scorpio & capricorn. getting things out of the blue without doing the work might demotivate them.

thanks for reading :)

[wordstome]

the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

[awkward-tension-art]

Puppet on a String Chp.1 (Fives x Reader)

As promised! Fives x reader! This one is gonna be more angst, so heads-up. This takes place pretty much directly after Darkness on Umbara, anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Epilogue

Mesh'la

CW: Fives x Reader, Reader is a medical practitioner, mentions of Umbara Arc, mentions of Pong Krell, Crying, Grief, details of severe injuries, Fives crying is his own warning, Hospital setting, medical talk, angst, swearing, brief interaction of 501st doctor

Minors DNI!

I found an anomaly.

That was the holo-message your friend and colleague sent you with no context. The network of medical personnel in the GAR would often get vague messages from the 501st field surgeon. At this point, you were used to that medic sending incomprehensible half sentences and unexplained data. 

Nonsense was standard with the 501st soldiers. Their doctor was no different.

You’d know. You were in a relationship with an ARC trooper that originated in the 501st. 

Oh Fives…

His own messages were concerning. Apparently Umbara was a disaster. One of the Jedi Generals had turned out to be a traitor, killing so many of the 501st they lost one third of their numbers.

You weren’t in the army, so you didn’t work with the Jedi very much. You were a medical practitioner assisting a neurologist in the Grand Republic Medical Facility. Since the war began you tried to shift your focus to tend to wounded military personnel, but your time was limited due to your other obligation. 

You were on the Ethics Committee that often bounced between Kamino and Coruscant. It was established shortly after the war began, and the clones became known to the Jedi. General Shaak Ti had established the committee, hand selecting doctors, nurses and scientists to make sure clone testing was safe and ethical.

Your supervisor was chosen and she had opted for you to represent her. Something you thanked her for some days, and hated her for other days.

Your thoughts were interrupted, the 501st doctor sent another message. This one was the context you were looking for. 

Used Umbaran scanner. Found something strange in every clone's brain.

What?

How could an Umbaran scanner find something nothing at the GRMF had seen before? 

Attached to the message were scans. Images of clone heads, giving an internal view of the neural activity. You had to admit, that scanner was thorough. You could see the different levels of neurotransmitters. Levels of sleep. Levels of stress. Even going so far to tell neuro-response time.

It was fascinating. Despite being clones, all of them had different reads. They were all unique, with their own different personalities and individuality. 

One of the scans, Hardcase, had an overactive prefrontal cortex. Must be a hyperactive clone.

Another one, Jesse, had activation in the midbrain and nucleus accumbens. He must have been focusing on something when the scan was taken.

Curiously, one scan, Dogma, had readings of heightened anxiety.

However, despite these differences, there was one repeating feature. 

ANOMALY: right orbital floor, parietal and temporal intersection

It looked like a tumor of some type. Or a lesion. Was it a clone thing?

There was a scan of Fives and you checked his status. He too had that unknown abnormality. 

Questions ran through your mind. What was this? Was this benign? Did this have the potential to cause problems later? Was this tied to the clones' genetic data?

You continued to stare at the holo-message and scans. Another one popped up, this one from the director of the medical facility, followed by an announcement.

Code Green. External Triage. 501st. 212th. 7th Sky.

That's…a lot more than normal. Those were the battalions returning from Umbara. Taking that planet must’ve been chaotic, more so than what Fives had told you. 

You drank the last of your caf and stood from your desk. 

You had work to do.

Your steps through the metal, sterile halls were quick as you met several of your fellow doctors on the landing pad. Already ships were dropping off the injured that survived Umbara.

“Fly solo.” Your supervisor nodded as she handed you a datapad with patient information. Without another word, she rushed out to the ships as they unloaded patients.

With a breath, you focused. 

Designation: CT-9821 “Rusty”

Assignment: 501st Legion

Information: Scans indicated broken ribs and full body burns.

You typed quickly, getting Rusty handled as swiftly as you could. Luckily, the GRMF had a system in place. Once you typed a command, the medical droids would follow through with the treatment.

Treatment: Stabilize ribs, treat burns with bacta tank. Will reassess after 12 hours.

You looked up, seeing the 501st field surgeon on top of another soldier being carried on a stretcher. Their hands were on the trooper's chest, bleeding profusely. The doctor looked at you, “He ripped out his own sutures!” 

“On it!” You nodded, getting to the hover stretcher and leading them inside and to a trauma room to properly suture, disinfect and deal with the wound. You needed to get the bleeding under control, that was priority. Once you began, you looked to the 501st doctor again, “You did your job and you did it well. Wash your hands and get some caf.”

The purpose of the medics and field surgeons in the army was to keep the men alive until they could get more surgical and intensive care such as on their venator ship. But with high numbers after every battle, especially now, those medical bays could only do so much. 

Which is when you and the medical facility would be the final destination. The priority was to save the lives that managed to hold on that long with such limited care. From there, once they were under proper life saving measures, everyone else would be cared for with better medical supplies. Wounds treated on the field would be double checked, infections would be treated, and bandages would be changed.

The doctor shook their head, heading back out to help their men. Someone else in the GRMF would grab them and force them to sit down. As you didn’t miss their bandaged and braced arm.

Damn workaholic, you thought, though, truthfully, you’d probably be the same if you were in their shoes. You might even be worse off, since you didn’t have the mental strength to be on the field like them.

No, you always struggled if you lost a patient. Having someone die under your care always left a permanent scar.

Once the clone was under the effects of painkillers and sedatives, you gave the suture work to one of the medical droids. You had other patients, and frankly, the droids could be more precise in their stitches.

You got back out, and checked another soldier.

Designation: ARF-5798 “Ink”

Assignment: 501st Legion

Information: Burst fracture of T7 through T11, broken left femur, shattered right ilium

By all the gods in the galaxy, what the hell happened on Umbara?!

Treatment: Intensive care ASAP, immediate surgery to correct spinal cord, pain management, will assess nerve damage when stabilized

With 3 battalions, all injured to some degree, the medical facility was on the verge of being overwhelmed.

Your focus went razor sharp. All you knew now were the injured who needed help. You weren’t a soldier but this was your battlefield.

It was hours later when the hospital gave the announcement.

Code Clear. Resume normal duties.

The medical facility gave a heavy sigh in relief. You looked at the datapad in your hands as you walked through the hall, so far, none of the records have been updated with deaths. Either everyone critical managed to pull through, or no one had filled in the data yet…

You hoped for the former. 

“Mesh’la…” You whirled around at the sound of a trembling voice, nearly dropping your datapad. 

Fives was standing in the hallway, helmet off and looking so…so broken. 

He had always been an emotional trooper, and he didn’t hide it. Something you adored about him. And right now, he was on the verge of a breakdown. 

You looked around quickly before getting to his side and grabbing his hand. Wordlessly, you took him into one of the medical facility supply rooms and locked the door. 

“Oh Fives…” you held his face in your hands, looking into his tear filled eyes, “It’s alright now, Fives…” 

He shook his head, letting his tears fall, “so many of us…gone…” 

Immediately you wrapped your arms around him, shushing him softly. 

Fives’ armored hands gripped the back of your lab coat tightly as he sobbed. You shifted, resting his head against your shoulder to let him cry out his emotions. You swayed slightly in hopes to calm him. Your lover was in a fragile state, and he needed someone to help him out of it….

“Fives…” You murmured his name softly, “You’re safe now, ok?”

“N-no…Hardcase…My plan had-” He choked out, falling into more weeping. Your lover was incomprehensible. 

Hardcase…a trooper most likely. A friend that he hasn’t mentioned?

“Fives…?” 

“He nearly executed me!” He jerked back, holding your arms. His tan cheeks were marked with heavy tears, and his eyes were bloodshot, “Krell betrayed us and he was the one who ordered me and Jesse to be executed!”

The horror was clear on your face, “Fives…” You held his face again, using his thumbs to wipe away his tears, “What happened on Umbara? Talk to me, breathe and talk to me…”  He stared at you and, through his tears, told you everything.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

This is my third time in your inbox, I'm so sorry 💀💀

Can we get more insight on Konigs childhood? You mentioned abuse from his father. What exactly did he do to Konig and his mother? Why did he cut his face up? Why did his mother not leave him? Where are his parents now? Was his childhood the reason he joined the military? Will he fully open up to the reader abt it?

Ty for tolerating me 😭🙏🏾

Please. My inbox is always, always open and I love these questions! (Like... someone wants to hear my ramblings about mentally unstable, fictional men?? You are godsend, my friend 💖)

Thoughts on König's childhood:

CW/TW: emotional, verbal & physical abuse, talk of personality disorders (by someone who is not a psychologist lmao), aggravated assault/murder, self-hate

So, I wrote König as a sociopath (otherwise known as antisocial personality disorder) with borderline pd. He's also neurodivergent (prob. ADHD). Now I don't know shit about these things but I tried my best to do some research on different pds and neurodiversity and thought this potpourri might fit well in König's character profile.

Unlike psychopaths, sociopaths are made, not born. So his dad had a definite hand in creating one out of König. He thought his only son (K is an only child in my canon) was a freak because he was bigger than "normal" kids, tall and lithe and on top of everything else, behaved oddly. König was bullied at school which made him even more asocial and anxious, which in turn made his dad project his own insecurities onto König even more. He needed to imprint it on König that he's a freak by cutting him.

There was a strict routine and order in his childhood home: dinner was to be served at 6'o clock sharp, every piece of clothing had to be pedantically ironed, no tv past seven, etc. Any misstep on these rules and there would be violence, mainly verbal and emotional but at times, physical too. König's mother was never enough, nothing she did was ever enough. König for sure did everything wrong by simply existing. For a boy of his size, he learned to become surprisingly invisible at a very young age.

Sometime during his teenage years, he started to have enough. He started to rebel, learned how to walk tall and straight, started to jog and train inside his room, do 100 pushups every morning. The idea of joining the army was born during these times as well, and becoming a sniper was soon König's biggest dream.

He enjoyed when his schoolmates, even some of the teachers, began to fear him (if you cannot be loved, better be feared than ridiculed). He was the odd, silent, big freak who was only getting odder, bigger and more silent every day. People at school literally feared the day König would arrive at class with a gun.

His father started to cut him even more when he began to show signs of independence and grit. At some point König realized he could easily beat his own dad if he wanted to. At 15 he started to go to the gym, and a year after, when he saw his father yell at his mom about something utterly insignificant, he finally snapped, took a simple kitchen knife and drove it to daddy's ribs (16 times).

His mother had a tiny mental breakdown after that. She didn't want her child to get into trouble, but seeing such a violent murder was the last straw for a woman who had tried to keep the peace by playing by this crazy tyrant's rules. The reason she hadn't left was because she feared he might kill them both. (Also the breakdown was far more severe than the one reader had after the break room incident, and it def. brought back some not so fond memories)

König got the minimum penalty for the crime because he was a juvenile offender. His mother forgave her child quite soon and deemed that her husband was evil and that König did the right thing for freeing them from such a man.

Things got better after that, but his mother was forever damaged from everything that had happened. She began to blame herself for not divorcing her husband sooner, for then he would still be alive and König wouldn't have suffered so much in his hands. One of the reasons König started to wear the hood was because he didn't want to remind his mother of what had been done to him. Instead, the mask only caused her only more pain. She started to avoid her own child, even fear him, feeding into König's insecurities and anxiety even more.

When König finally joined the army at the age of 17, it was to get away from home and pursue his dreams to become a sniper. He thought it might be best for his mother, too, if he wasn't around the house to remind her what had gone down and how her only child was not only a monster, but a murderer, too.

König's childhood is so filled with trauma that he has pretty much distanced himself from it. The geographical distance helps too, and he's not keen on taking reader on a vacation to Austria, for example. But he will open up about his past if and when he sees it's safe to do so. Sadly enough, the thing that bugs him the most about it is he fears he might look weak in reader's eyes. He's been in a survival mode for so long that he doesn't quite understand that he was a child at the time, and should've received love and care.

Btw I totally got inspired by @random-thot-generator 's gospel truth on how König's first kill was his own father! Also the Conan t-shirt as his (first) mask is my canon now

[xoalin4]

Childhood headcanons I imagine for nikto.

Again, this is pure what I imagine his childhood to be like, hence headcanon.

And therefore when I make a story of him or bot, I go with what I hc.

TW for: mentions of abuse, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, blood, bullying (is that even a tw?). If you are sensitive to any of that, do not read.

I like to think that he had a very abusive childhood, like severely.

His mother was a complete deadshit. Drug attic and straight alcoholic. Leaving bottles all over the shitty house he had to live in.

She smoked a lot also, the house never smelt of anything else but cigarettes. Also to say she was quite a whore.

She would call nikto stuff like ‘useless child’ ‘pathetic shit’ ‘mistake’ and all sorts of names. His mother just never liked him at all, said he ‘looks to much like his father’.

She would often get angry at him because he couldn’t get her more cigarettes/alcohol because he was too young to get it.

She would then repeatedly smack him in the back of the head and saying stuff like “good for nothing child! I knew I should have gotten rid of you the moment I found out I was pregnant!” Ect.

Not to mention his father, his father was straight evil. His mother he could deal with, as she wasn’t that strong and a woman.

Oh but his father, he dreaded when his father came home from work each day. Dreaded the weekends even more because his father would be in the house for those days.

It was bad enough that most of the time his father was butt-fuck drunk. Which made him even worse.

His father would often beat him till he coughed up blood, was a crying mess on the floor in his own blood. Had broken/bruised ribs and cuts all over his body.

He swears there wasn’t a moment In his life that he wasn’t limping around to go to school. Always in jumpers and long pants to hide his battered body.

He completely feared his father, utterly terrified of him. Especially since he couldn’t fight back then because he was just a child and his father was stronger than him.

And hated his father even more because he looked exactly like his father. The same pitch black hair (he has black hair, talk to the wall if you think I’m wrong) and same blue eyes with the same facial features.

And even at school, not even the kids there were nice. Always wanting a go at him because he was the ‘quiet kid’ in school. Which led to him getting into multiple fights in school and getting sent to the principals office.

He feared that the most, getting sent to the principals office, because he knew his father would be the first one to know. Which led to him getting another beating the moment he got home.

He ran away from home when he was 15, he just couldn’t do it anymore. Stayed with one of his friends (only) for a couple of days until he got a job and enough money to afford a scabby apartment.

With his life away from his parents, he had free will to do whatever. Which led to his friends showing him some stuff and bringing him places.

One of those places was a brothel, which is where he had his first time at 15. And he just found himself going back there at least once each week.

He loved sex, loved the feeling of a woman’s body and the look of it. Loved when some of the women would let him wrap his hand around their throat while he fucks them.

That became one of his sources to get relief and relax after a tiresome week. He never really liked it when a woman was on top of him, just felt wrong to him and made him feel weak, like when he couldn’t fight off his father from beating him. So he never really allowed them on top.

I do not know how old he was when he joined the military, tho I like to think he did when he was 21. Built his body up enough and just decided he didn’t want to be working that shit job for the rest of his life.

Well that’s it, bit harsh, yes? Man never had peace once in his life😞 unless he was balls deep inside a woman that is.

[sl-vega]

✧Sticking to the Script✧-12

⋆｡°✩ 12-juliet's found a new romeo

a/n: this takes place a week after chapter 11, after school hours

"1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3."

Eula was counting out the beats as you tried to keep up. She was put in charge of choreography for the production. Albeit, she only had one scene to work with. That might have been for the best though, because a simple waltz scene felt like military training with her in charge.

She didn't hesitate to yell or shout. Several freshmen in the ensemble ran out of the room crying because of Eula. No wonder everyone hates her, you thought, but you kept to yourself. There was no way you were risking her wrath.

Lyney was your dance partner. His right hand rested on your waist, while his left was intertwined with your own. He was keeping up with Eula's instructions. You on the other hand, were doing the exact opposite.

You had stepped on his feet more times than you could count. Which resulted in numerous bruises, not to mention how you were completely off beat.

Eula opened her mouth, preparing to scold you for the hundredth time. You winced in anticipation.

"Everyone take five!"

Furina called out. Then she beckoned for Eula to talk to her. Eula set some papers down and muttered something about how incompetent everyone was before making her way to Furina. She gave you a glare, clearly indicating that you should still practice, thankfully Chiori had grabbed her attention before Eula could say anything else.

You and the ensemble took a collective sigh of relief together. Everyone went on a water break together. You and Lyney let go of each other and made your way to sit on the edge of the stage.

"Sorry about that Lyney." you muttered. "You're gonna be the death of me, (Y/N)." he said, chuckling. You playfully punched his shoulder, as he feigned pain.

"Oh, how you wound me!" he exclaimed pressing the back of his hand to his forehead for dramatic effect. You rolled your eyes as you took a sip out of your water bottle. "Yet you love me regardless."

"That was my first mistake." he replied, which earned him another punch from you. You caught him glancing at your hand, before you could ask him why, he grabbed your wrist. "You're still wearing that ring? Aren't you afraid of losing something so expensive?" he asked.

You pulled your hand away, fidgeting with the piece of jewelry that Xingqiu gave you. "Honestly, I'd feel kinda bad if I didn't wear it." you muttered as you watched Xingqiu laugh with his friend about something.

You smiled watching them fool around together. Part of you was kinda jealous.

I wish I could make you laugh like that

"Archons, you're down so bad." Lyney teased, smirking as you turned red. "Shut up." you whispered swatting his shoulder. You went back to observing the crew + some of the volunteers.

Xingqiu and his friend were transporting some boxes over to the stage. You subconsciously fixed your hair and smoothed out your clothes as he neared you and Lyney.

Xingqiu waved and you returned the gesture. "You do know you can just talk to him right?" you heard Lyney ask. You were about to do just that, but Eula had returned from her meeting with Furina and Chiori.

"Places!" she snapped her fingers as everyone scrambled into their positions, but your mind was preoccupied with other thoughts.

I wish I could just talk to him

Hours later, you still couldn't grasp the routine. Sure, you had gotten better, but not to the point where Lyney's feet didn't suffer anymore. But there was always tomorrow, rehearsal would be over soon anyway.

Eula rubbed her temples as she glanced at her phone, checking the time. "That's a wrap everyone! Thank you for coming." you heard Furina announce as she started packing up.

Fischl and Lyney started gathering their things. "You guys can leave without me, I just need to sort out some things." you told them. Fischl looked at you, then at Xingqiu, she mouthed an "Oh" before dragging Lyney away and whispering something to him.

You waved goodbye before approaching Xingqiu who had just done the same for his friend.

"Hey."

"Hi."

The two of you had exchanged a proper greeting for the first time today, it had been a while since the two of you got some one-on-one time alone. "Did you need something?" he asked.

No, I just want to spend time with you, I don't care what we do, I just want you

Is what you would've said, but that would've been to forward. The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. You had to think of an excuse so he would stay.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to dance would you?"

Xingqiu looked surprised, then he took your hand and led you to the stage.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

He led you up the steps, his stand still intertwined with yours. The two of you made your way to the center of the stage. His right hand rested on your waist, and his left still held your hand.

He pulled you closer, your chests pressing against one another, you hoped he didn't feel your wild heartbeat. "Um, this is okay with you, right?" he asked, due to your close proximity you could see his cheeks dusted with pink..

You nodded, attempting to maintain eye contact with him.

"Just follow my lead then." he told you.

You counted the beats in your head, but you soon found out that you didn't need to. With Xingqiu, it just came naturally.

You found yourself focusing more on him rather than the actual routine. You noticed how pretty his resting face was, and the golden sheen in his eyes.

Your faces were getting close, dangerously close. You could feel his breath against your lips. The two of you continued dancing, you swayed along with him.

Your foreheads were resting against each other, and the two of you continued to hold eye contact.

"Xingqiu..."

He was leaning in, whether this was something he wanted, or this was just him being in the moment, was something you couldn't determine. You weren't even sure whether you wanted it either.

"Excuse me!"

You heard a voice yell, it was Furina. "Sorry to interrupt but some people are renting the auditorium so you guys need to get out now." she explained before leaving again.

You pulled away from Xingqiu, and he heard him mutter an apology as his face flushed. You went to pick up your bag that rested by the stage.

"I'll see you tommorow, yeah?"

He nodded going to get his things from the seats in the front row.

As you walked towards the exit you felt your stomach doing somersaults. You recalled your thoughts from earlier.

I just want you

You put your hand on your cheek as you felt your face heat up. You turned around to watch Xingqiu pack up his things.

Archons, I'm down bad

additional notes:

-i'm so sorry for not uploading yesterday guys T-T

-i swear i'm trying my hardest

-cockblock furina cuz why not

-not even half way through and these two children have fallen so hard for each other

-young love yk

-very proud of this chapter

-i'll try to get a double update in today

-very excited for chapter 13

-check the title and you'll find out why

-ty again for all the love <3

masterlist

<prev ll next>

✧Sticking to the Script✧

Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader

Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau

⋆｡°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.

(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @willowcandletree, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot

[fallout4-reacts]

Can you give your idea about every important npc like you've done about the companions ? (by important npc I mean Sturge, the long family, diamond city mayor, Fahrenheit and etc)

Interesting one and I am so eager that you will just hm... jump the list

(I will be so hated)

Part 1

Sturges - Fahrenheit - Tinker Tom - Irma

Sturges had to be gay. If not, he needs to be an ace/aro. It would be shame if he isn't.

Because you absolutely need Sturges as your gay best friend. The gay best friend of everyone.

Yes, he is a modest, ingenious man who comes up with his own words when none exist to express what he wants to say—not quite as intense as Tinker Tom, but you get the picture.

Everyone, even homophobes, needs Sturges as their gay best buddy. They just don’t know he is. They’ll appreciate him.

Furthermore, presuming he isn't Ace/Aro, Sturges is, secretly or not, attracted by Preston. And if he is Ace/Aro, he still has to have a platonic crush on Preston.

Well, that's all there is to it.

Although Preston is charming, the ragtag group of Quincy survivors would be severely lacking in charisma if it weren't for Sturges, our gay neutral buddy who possesses an excess of verve that overwhelms our feeble minds.

It is canonical that Fahrenheit is Hancock's daughter. It's in the code. That's it.

Why didn't Bethesda have the guts to include it in the game? No idea. Still, she's.

Now that we've covered that, let's move on to the two headcanons in the game.

To start, no one has mentioned the fact that she is actually Hancock's daughter.

It is clear that Hancock knew her mother before he turned ghoul. For one, Fahr wouldn't exist if it weren't for this. Second, she would be younger than five years old.

With this being, it's plausible that Fahr hasn't spent much time in Hancock's company, even given she's between the ages of 25 and 35.

For the most part, I'm fine with the 2-3 year time frame that's commonly used in fan fiction.

On the other hand, I have my own headcanon.

Fahrenheit was born out of a fleeting encounter with a girl, a bar, and a reckless young Hancock. Totally careless to the point where the pregnant woman wanted him to know absolutely nothing about her pregnancy.

An affair with the stunning McDonough for just one evening? Of course. Sharing parental responsibilities? At no point.

However, Hancock had found the truth in some way. Perhaps his own brother was aware of what was happening and wished for him to suffer hardship.

"You are such a disaster; Alyssa has fled Diamond City so you will never find out you are a father!"

When it happened, Hancock's havoc level skyrocketed. So much so that his friend Nick, who was becoming famous for his sleuthing abilities, once suggested he go after the girl and the child, who was probably a toddler by then.

And he found them.

Here's another set of diverging head canon. Some where Nick is unable to rescue the mother but the child, while others have Hancock watching after his ex-girlfriend from a distance as his daughter grows up.

But eventually, mom either dies or vanishes. And the Wasteland is no place for Fahrenheit to be alone.

Next, we have two more variances.

1. Similar to Piper and Nat, Hancock takes in and raises the girl as best he can. In contrast, Fahr is more of a rat street and does not receive much direct attention from Hancock. Nevertheless, compared to the Wasteland, being Diamond City's rat street, or kind of drifter, is greater.

Or

2. Fahrenheit is bestowed upon a family that Hancock has confidence in.

Whatever the case may be, Farh eventually shows up at Goodneighbor after Hancock turns into a ghoul and is almost definitely involved with Vic's expulsion. The still, small voice that encouraged Hancock to do it.

Fahr already sees her father's potential—with a little guidance—as a Master of Chest, and she wants to help him reach it.

She is quite helpful.

Rather than deal with a symbolic authority that she leaves to her father, she chooses to focus on the military corpus.

That concludes her relationship with Hancock.

Now let's talk about her personality.

The character Fahrenheit is more nuanced than her lines suggest, as is typical in Fallout.

An observer, she is.

She avoids bonding herself with anyone, as they are just pawns on her board.

No matter how fond she is of Hancock and how dedicated she is to his goal, she still looks down on him.

The wickedness she experienced as a child is largely to blame for this. She could have been led to believe by her mother that her father had abandoned the family. Or something.

Also, her mother perhaps has been cold and distant as she struggled to provide for her family. Perhaps she felt this way because her daughter was a bittersweet reminder that she will never get her heart's desire.

Whatever the case may be, it's given a Fahrenheit that doesn't connect to anyone or open to anyone.

She prefers to follow her own path and isn't interested in sharing it with anyone.

This is something that Hancock acknowledges and values.

That is why Hancock has her respect.

That is why they make a great duo to lead Goodneighbor in the right direction.

One of Deacon's greatest secrets is Tinker Tom.

Yeah, you heard me well.

Of Deacon.

There is an unstated origin story behind Tinker Tom. He was rescued by Deacon, who then integrated--hide--him in the RailRoad. That is precisely why Tinker is so incredibly paranoid. Simply put, he has an absolutely compelling reason to be so.

Everything he experienced and learned is a thousand times worse than anything you can ever fathom.

A timid young prodigy who was relentlessly exploited until Deacon came along and provided him with a safe haven.

Now, most people respect him; those who seek his assistance must first prove they deserve it.

He is under no more any sort of obligation.

Yet, he keeps a subdue attitude in face of the "RailRoad leader", but it's all a joke between Deacon and Tom, and Tom KNOW that no one can command him anymore, be mean with him in any meaner. 

Should one go on, Deacon would expose his worst traits, leading to the person's doom...

And somehow, everyone in the RailRoad realizes that.

Irma is a woman of power. While they were younger, she flirted with Marowski and took advantage of him.

Simply put, she is a woman with the big W.

A stunning lady.

But she refuses to be a pawn for anybody.

She had brought the Memory Den long before it became significant. It wasn't just anything; it was plainly a brothel.

Bawd suit well to Irma. A clever matron.

And Amari is a very wise lady as well.

Akin to Irma, she has seen the property's potential. The proposal was made by her. They have associate.

And that's Irma that tricked Nick Valentine in the Memory Den.

Because it was not otherwise.

After following the trail of a runaway spouse once, Nick arrived at the Third Rail. He was quickly spotted by Irma.

At that time, he was not quite as battered as he is today. Everything about him—his handsome style, his deep, cool voice, and his gentlemanly behavior—was exquisite for someone with an open mind.

His charms have captivated Irma.

She has exhausted every possible means to lure him into her clutches. However, he still manages to gracefully sidestep her traps.

And her attraction has just intensified. Nevertheless, she possesses an elitist aspect that should not be lowered. Never she would have kneel for him.

After that, a status quo of sorts. Just like him, she's a gamer.

However, if the SoSu are successful in their romance with Nick, Irma will go absolutely wild. SoSu, be careful with your drink if Irma serves it to you.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Annapolis

Season Two Episode Nine

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4574

Series Masterlist

Summary: Based on season four episode 24. Y/N breaks protocol when Spencer is infected with a deadly virus. 

Notes: Like usual, I’m going to be using some scenes from the episode (Amplification) and making some up for the story. I know that this definitely isn’t super realistic and that Y/N would definitely just be arrested or something, but it’s all *for the plot.* 

-

You focused on the twirl of your spoon in the mug while several expectant gazes wore you down from across the table. The spring morning filled the air with a slight breeze, but you felt heat rise in your face under the three agent’s stares. 

“What?” You asked innocently. 

Emily raised a brow, JJ gave you a knowing smile, and Penelope looked ready to burst. 

You took a sip of your coffee. “Have I mentioned how much I hate profilers?” 

“It’s not our fault that loverboy has a terrible poker face,” Emily said. 

Penelope beamed. “He’s been over the moon for weeks now and I can think of one specific reason that would make him act that way.” 

You blushed, shaking your head but couldn’t hide your smile. 

“So you are back together!” Penelope squealed, earning a few glances from other cafe patrons. 

“We’re still figuring things out,” you said. You held your coffee in your hands, letting the warmth meet your palms as you rolled it back and forth nervously. “It’s not as simple as it used to be.” 

“You love him. He loves you. That seems pretty simple to me,” she said. JJ and Emily gave her a look. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been heartbroken for them for the past six months.”

“Y/N’s right,” JJ said. “Things like this aren’t easy in a relationship. It takes time.” 

Emily nodded in agreement, though Penelope couldn’t stop grinning at you. You decided to throw her a little bit of a bone, so to speak. 

“We started reading again, which has been nice,” you started. You felt a little like a schoolgirl describing her first date, but maybe a little juvenile lightness was what you all needed. “Sherlock Holmes. I think it helps us sleep better.” 

“Does this mean you’re moving back in?” Emily wondered. 

“And miss out on sleeping on my brother’s air mattress? Why would I ever do that?” You snarked.

She chuckled. “Fair enough.”  

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Penelope gushed. “I love love.” 

“Speaking of which, enough about me,” you said. “What about you and Kevin?” 

While she went into an excited ramble about her boyfriend not moving across seas on a new job, the final member of your coffee date- and your sometimes roommate- walked up to the table. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Haley grimaced. “I had to take Jack to school and the parking lot there is a nightmare.” 

“Oh my god, that reminds me,” JJ said, turning to you. “How is Hotch? He went for a bit of a spin on our last case.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s fine. Or at least that’s what he says every time I ask, which I wouldn’t have to do if he didn’t use his SVU as a battering ram.” 

“He does have a knack for head injuries, doesn’t he?” Haley laughed. 

“Good thing he has a thick skull,” Emily teased. 

“Har har.” You took another drink of coffee. “All I’m saying is that I would love to go one week without one of you guys doing something stupidly heroic and almost dying.” 

JJ laughed, shaking her head. “Good luck with that.” 

-

Whatever light mood was left from that morning quickly evaporated as the team stood around the table, a container of pills in each hand. They didn’t even know if the Cipro would be effective. A new strain, Dr. Kimura said. Men in military uniforms bustled around the bullpen. 

The weight of what was going on settled into everyone’s minds.

“This is really happening?” Prentiss uttered. 

Hotch nodded. “We knew this could happen,” he said gravely. “We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it.” He dumped the pills into his mouth. 

Rossi held up his cup. 

“Jin dan,” he toasted. “May you live a hundred years.” 

The rest of the team took the medicine and tried not to imagine what would happen if it didn’t work. With their assignments in mind, everyone started to disperse, but Reid stayed toward the back. Dr. Kimura gave him a grim nod as she left with the others. He hid the fear that was clouding his mind. 

He pulled Hotch aside as they walked out. 

“Y/N has an interview with an inmate awaiting trial at JRDC,” he whispered. “That’s in Annapolis.” 

Hotch swallowed. “I know.”

“And you don’t think we should tell her not to go?” Reid exclaimed. 

“We can’t.”

“We have no idea where the unsub will strike next. What if she goes out for lunch in a crowded area and-”

“Reid.” Hotch stared at him intensely. “We can’t. The media blackout order means nobody can know. If this gets out, people will panic.”

He knew he was right. Reid wanted to remain detached and logical, but all he could think about was the image of the woman he loved choking on her own blood. 

“I’m just getting her back, Hotch,” he pleaded. “I can’t risk losing her again.” 

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we focus on solving this as quickly as possible.” He hid his own terror behind a mask. Inside, he was just as worried as the younger agent and wanted nothing more than to tell Y/N not to leave the apartment. He wanted to call Haley and tell her to pick up Jack from school. He wanted to protect his team from the danger they were facing. But he couldn’t. “Now let’s get started.” 

While Hotch stayed at the office-turned-base of operations, Reid went with Dr. Kimura to speak with the surviving victims of the attack in the park. All the while, both had you in the back of their mind. 

Unaware of the situation, you drove into Annapolis with Sir Arthur Conan Doyal in your head. Spencer’s voice reading the words of the brilliant detective made you smile. The sun streamed into your windows and traffic couldn't even seem to bother you. It was a perfect morning. 

You were about to pull into the Jennifer Road Detention Center parking lot when your phone rang. It was Sonia. 

“Hey, I know you’ve already driven out, but I just got a call from the warden. Apparently, Sergio Marks got into a fight this morning and is in critical condition,” she explained. 

“You’re kidding,” you sighed. “And here I was looking forward to being stuck in a room with an accused wife killer.”

Despite your sarcasm, you were actually kind of bummed to miss out on the interview. With Marks’ court date coming up, you’d been hoping to compare his behavior before and during the trial. 

“I’ll head back then,” you said. “I’ve got some other cases I can look into today.”

“The other studies can wait,” Sonia said. “Why don’t you take the day off?” Before you could argue, she continued. “You’ve been working like a dog ever since you got back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetie. You could spend some time with that cute FBI boyfriend of yours.”

“I think they’re on a case,” you laughed. 

“Then take some time to just breathe, honey. I know Maryland isn’t exactly a vacation spot, but I’m sure you’ll find something there. I heard there’s a nice bookstore in town,” she said. “Your work will be here when you get back.” 

“I guess I can go shopping or something,” you shrugged. She was right. Annapolis wasn’t a big city, but you should be able to find something to entertain yourself. Besides, you’d probably just go home and worry about the BAU while they were on whatever case they had now. 

“I’ll sort things out with Marks. Have a nice time.” Sonia hung up, leaving you with the rest of the day to relax. 

-

Prentiss stood amongst the bustle of people, staring into the bookstore as the men in hazmat suits closed the blinds. If they found evidence of the virus, it was proof that the bookstore was the site of the unsub’s test run. 

The victims had died within three hours of being admitted to the hospital. 

Morgan hung up the phone with JJ. Prentiss looked at all of the civilians surrounding them. 

“Look at all these people just going about their lives,” she said. “If they only knew what we were doing here.”

Morgan scowled. “It’s better that they don’t.” He said something else, but Prentiss couldn’t hear him. Her scanning eyes settled on a familiar face across the street. 

“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Is that Y/N?” 

Morgan turned his head just as you noticed them. To both of their dread, you crossed the street, a beaming smile spread across your face. 

“Hey strangers,” you greeted, seeming more chipper than Derek had seen you in a while. “What are you guys doing here?” From their serious expressions, it only took you a moment to understand. “Oh.”

“Why are you here?” Derek asked. 

“I was going to look at some books, but the store owner apparently got really sick and died a few days ago…” You trailed off, making more connections in your mind. “Is that why the team is here?” 

The two exchanged a look. 

It didn’t take your degree in psychology to realize that they were scared. 

“Derek, talk to me.” 

They both seemed to receive a message through their earpieces. Derek pulled you aside, weary of the attention of bystanders picking up on the tension in your tone. 

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “We just can’t talk about the case.”

The firmness in his tone and the tightness of his grip told you everything and nothing at the same time. 

“Okay,” you nodded. Your eyes went to the bookstore behind him and it’s closed blinds. Something was going on. “Be careful, okay?”

“Always am.” He faked his usual smirk, hoping to calm you down. 

“I guess I’ll see you back in D.C.” You smiled to convince him he had.

If you weren’t going to interview a murderer, then maybe you could figure out what the hell had two of the toughest people you knew terrified. 

Whatever it was, no one would answer their phone. Aaron was radio silence and you hadn’t heard from Spencer since earlier in the morning. You checked the news every couple of minutes to see if anything had leaked, but all you could find was something about a park being shut down for methane in the sewers. 

“That must be connected,” you muttered to yourself. You kept racking your brain for something that made sense. If it were a bomb threat, Derek and Emily wouldn't have just been standing around waiting for it to explode. A shooter, they probably wouldn’t have kept it under wraps as intensely as they were. 

The only thing that you could think of was chemical or biowarfare. If someone was going after people with some kind of poisonous gas or airborne antigen, it might explain why everything had to be kept such a secret. And the government could have called in the BAU to help them find who was responsible before they struck again. 

You tried your brother again, but there was still no answer. Something was definitely wrong. 

“If no one is going to help me,” you said, pulling up to the library, “then I am going to help myself.” 

-

Morgan and Reid observed the house with an uneasy air between them. It looked so normal, but inside more agents and scientists were tirelessly searching for traces of the disease or mediums to transport it. So far, they hadn’t turned up anything. 

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Morgan noted. Something about all of this felt off. Too simple. 

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Reid said. 

The two agents started down the driveway to the other side of the house. So focused on the matter at hand, Reid caught his hand on a rose bush along the path. The thorn scratched the back of his hand, creating a gash he chose to ignore. 

“So Y/N’s in the area,” Morgan said grimly. “Prentiss and I saw her when we were checking out the bookstore.” He shook his head, eyebrow quirked in a mildly impressed expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she figures all this out even with the media blackout.” 

“She’s taught a course on bio-terrorism, so I’m sure she’ll pick up on something,” Reid shrugged. He’d been trying not to think about you and had been unsuccessful. Just knowing you could get caught up in all this made it hard to focus on anything else. But Hotch was right. The sooner this was solved, the sooner you’d be out of harm’s way. “But the higher-ups seem to have this pretty locked down. I’m sure she’s just going about her day like any other.” 

Morgan eyed him. “Right.” 

The older agent’s phone rang and he answered, listening as Prentiss told him what they’d figured out at the lab. 

Reid continued on through the garden, jumping as a sprinkler spouted to life. The sound of the water covered whatever Morgan was saying. The sliding door to the garden led into what he quickly recognized as Dr. Nichols’ office. From there, he saw two things and processed them in the same thought. 

The first was the body of Dr. Lawrence Nichols. A large head wound and a pool of drying blood signaled that the scientist had been dead for a while. 

The second was a broken vial spilling white powder onto the floor. 

“Reid?” Morgan called after him. 

He didn’t think of anything after that. He just rushed to the door and slid it closed just as Morgan caught up with him. 

“Morgan get back,” he exclaimed. “Get back!” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Get out of here. Believe me. Get back.” All he could think about was keeping Morgan away from the substance he was sure had already infected himself. 

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, panic rising in his tone. “Reid, open the door.” 

Reid just looked at him, locking the door with eyes that betrayed his distress. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with the toppling realization of what this really meant. 

He breathed in the substance. He contracted this new, terrifying strand of anthrax. 

He was going to die. 

No. Reid ran a shaking hand down his face. He could figure this out. There had to be a cure. He could do this.

“I’m calling Hotch,” Morgan said, pacing hurriedly in front of the glass. 

“I’ll be fine,” Reid lied. “I have all of Nichols’ notes. I can find the cure.”

“We’re getting you to the hospital.”

Reid shook his head. “You need to get away. I don’t know if any of the powder got into the air.” 

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Morgan, now!” The firmness in the younger agent’s voice took Morgan by surprise. 

He moved out to the garden, making sure Reid was still in view, and made the call. 

By the time Hotch and the others arrived, Reid had made up his mind. And, despite Morgan’s protests, their unit chief agreed that the best thing for Reid to do was to work to find the cure somewhere in the lab. 

Until a car pulled up across the street, having followed the sirens after spending most of the afternoon researching locals in the library. 

You spotted the dark hair and neat suit as you came up the sidewalk. People in hazmat suits hurried in and out of the house your brother stood in front of. He bore a similar expression to what you’d seen on the other BAU members earlier, only now Morgan looked even worse standing beside him. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry this is a restricted area.” A man in uniform stepped in front of you. 

“I know them,” you muttered, trying to look over his shoulder. 

He grabbed your arm. “If you won’t leave voluntarily, I’ll have to remove you.”

“What’s going on?” 

“Ma’am-”

“Aaron!”  

Your brother’s head whipped around at the sound of his name and his expression went from controlled worry to a furious glare in no time. 

“Okay so this is bad,” you said to yourself. 

“I’m going to have to take you back to your car,” the man in uniform sighed, starting to pull you away. 

“Get off of me.” You tried to yank away, but his grip was firm. “Aaron! See, I know them.” 

The man kept pulling you backward until another voice shouted at him.

“Hey, let her go!” Agent Morgan ordered, darting across the lawn over to you. 

Aaron walked slowly, but you could tell by the tension in his movements that he was anything but calm. 

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?” Derek snapped. 

“I knew something was wrong so I did some digging and then I followed the sirens,” you said, still trying to free your arm from the soldier. “What the hell is going on?”

“I told her she had to leave-” The soldier tried pulling again. 

Derek put a hand on his arm. “I said let her go.” 

The man hesitated, but eventually released you and went to join one of his superiors. 

“This clearly isn’t a normal case,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s happening?” 

“If I could tell you, I would have, but you really can’t be here.” His jaw tensed and his eyes flicked down to the necklace you always wore. A locket in the shape of a book. The present you’d gotten from Spencer. 

A shock of icy fear rushed through you. “Derek, where’s Spence?” 

“You can’t be here.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s inside,” Aaron said. From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you knew. 

“This is Dr. Lawrence Nichols’ house,” you said. 

“Yes.”

“He wrote studies on anthrax.”

Aaron sighed. “Yes.” 

“How did you know that?” Derek asked. 

“You're not the only ones who know how to investigate something,” you said. You pushed past them, following the trail of panicked people in hazmat suits around the house, just where you could see a glass door. 

Aaron caught you before you could get any closer. 

“I have to see him.” You fought against his arms as they locked around you. “Let me go, Aaron.”

“We don’t know if there are still traces of the substance outside of the lab. Even if it’s sealed we can’t-”

“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him in there. Do you know what this will do to his body? I’ve studied anthrax, Aaron. I can’t just… I can’t…” 

“The best thing you can do for Reid is let him work.” Your brother turned you around, keeping his hands on your arms so you couldn’t get away. “He’ll find the cure and he’ll be fine.” 

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t still be here, waiting for him to die,” you snapped. 

Aaron swallowed, closed his eyes, and didn’t say anything else. 

“Keep an eye on her,” he told Derek. “We still have to find the apprentice.” 

He stormed off and Derek gave you a look that said he’d stop you before you even thought of taking another step. 

Inside, Spencer held his cell phone with a trembling hand and coughed in between his words. 

On the other end, a saddened voice greeted him, lacking her usual pep.

“Hey, Reid.”

“Reid, wow,” he teased. “No witty Garcia greeting for me?” 

Garcia grimaced, trying to laugh for him. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.” 

He took a deep breath. While part of his brain was scrambling to figure out where Nichols might have the cure that could save him, the other side was plaguing his thoughts of who he was leaving behind. 

What would happen to his mom? How many times would the nurses have to tell her that her only son was dead before her brain allowed her to realize it? And even if she did, how long before she would forget and have to go through the grief all over again? 

And then there was Y/N. 

Just when things started looking better…

“Garcia,” he said, holding back a fit of coughing, “do you think you could do something for me?” 

-

You didn’t know how long you sat there, waiting to hear whether or not the area had been cleared. Derek stayed with you and you explained how you figured out what was going on. 

“You scare me sometimes, you know that?” He teased. 

He was on and off the phone. You could tell it was with Spence by the way Derek’s eyes kept slipping over to you as he talked. But telling Spencer you were there before they figured anything out would only distract him. At least, that’s what Derek kept telling you. 

After a while, Dr. Kimura called Derek back and said he could talk to Spencer. Despite your protests, he told you to wait and so you stood back while he went inside. You could hear Spencer’s voice, but your brain wouldn’t focus on what they were saying. You just wished you could hold him again. 

His coughing may as well have been a flatline in your ears. 

“Go help Hotch,” he told Derek. 

Spencer stood with his arms at his side as he was sprayed down. His hair hung limply around his face and his purple shirt now clung to his chest. 

Morgan shook his head. “Hotch has plenty of people helping him.

“He needs you more than I do.” 

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.” Derek caught you in the corner of his eye, stepping closer to the doorway. 

“I’m about to get naked,” Spencer said, leveling an irritated stare on the other agent’s face. “So they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” 

Derek looked from you to Spencer to Dr. Kimura. He waved his hand, motioning for you to come in.

“Can she stay with him?” 

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Who is this?” Kimura asked. “Is she another member of your team?”

Derek scoffed, giving you a small smirk. “She may as well be.” He nodded at the scientist. “Take care of him.”

He hurried off, patting your back as he went. 

Your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. In other circumstances, you might have laughed. He looked like a wet puppy with his dripping hair and soaked clothes. But another cough escaped his lips and his hazel stare burned into you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked again. 

“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?” 

“This isn’t funny. You can’t be here,” he said. “Protocol aside, do you have any idea how dangerous this situation is?” His shoulders jerked with another cough. He unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes. 

“I don’t care how many rules I’m breaking, I’m not leaving you.” You held up a hand. “I’m safer here than out there waiting for this guy to strike again.” 

His frown deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, hands reaching for his belt. 

“Can you…?” He trailed off.

“Oh,” you blinked. “Right. Yeah.” You turned away, listening to the water against his now bear skin. 

He felt ridiculous, being self-conscious now when you’d seen him without his clothes on plenty of times. But this felt different. He’d let himself fall into this problem and somehow, shielding you from seeing him this way, seeing him so weak, made it easier in his head. He could face it as long as you didn’t have to. 

Dr. Kimura allowed you to ride with them to the hospital as long as you stayed out of the way. But now, seeing him in the hospital shirt with sweat glistening on his forehead, you knew you couldn’t just sit there. 

“Is there anything I can do?” You begged.

“We’re going to test Nichols’ inhaler to see if he hid the cure there like Dr. Reid suggested,” Dr. Kimura explained. She put a stethoscope to Spencer’s chest as he continued coughing. You didn’t need to have a medical degree to know he was getting worse. “How are you feeling Dr. Reid?” 

“My throat’s a little dry.” He kept his eyes screwed shut, focusing on what he was saying. “But other than that I feel… fin. Feel fin.” He opened his eyes as nonsense fell from his lips. His brows furrowed in frustration while his irises widened with panic. 

Your eyes scanned his shaking form, bile rising in your throat. He reached up for you. On his hand, you spotted the cut. 

Not good. Definitely not good. 

When he coughed this time, a trickle of blood dripped out of his mouth. 

“Driver, faster,” Dr. Kimura ordered. 

“Re-,” Spencer stammered, gripping your hand as tight as his muscles allowed. “Ret.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“Reel. Rem. R-Read.” He used his other hand to point to his bag, left by Morgan when he took it out of the car. 

You reached into it and retrieved the leather-bound volume you’d spent the last week reading together. It made your breath catch in your throat. You opened to the page he’d left off on the night before. 

The Final Problem.

-

 With your eyes trained on the page in front of you, the scene of Sherlock Holmes’s death struck a little too close for comfort. 

What if this was it? What if you’d wasted all of the time you had left with him in these past few months? 

Your hands shook. You wanted a drink. 

Derek sat beside you, distracting himself with the hospital jello and a magazine. 

You reached the end of the story, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by threatening cries. 

“...and if I have now been compelled to make a clear statement of his career it is due to those injudicious champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known,” Spencer said groggily. His eyes peered open, landing on Morgan. “Are you eating Jell-O?” 

You let out a sob of relief and restrained yourself from throwing your arms around him. 

Derek smiled. “Hey doc, look who’s back,” he said to Dr. Kimura, who was speaking to another doctor in the doorway. 

“Is there any more Jell-O?” Spence asked, his thoughts still hazy from waking up. 

While Derek and the doctor informed Spencer of everything that had happened- including the recovery of the other victims thanks to him knowing where the cure was hidden- you just watched on with awe tightening in your chest, turning to regret. 

You’d taken so much for granted and it took almost losing him to see it. 

Spencer turned his head toward you, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw your face. 

“I could hear you,” he said. “Reading, I mean.” 

“You should have picked a happier story,” you teased through your tears. 

He chuckled weakly. “Sorry.” 

Derek ushered Dr. Kimura out, giving the two of you a little more privacy.

You leaned over, pressing your lips to Spencer’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” you cried. 

Spence lifted a hand, wiping away your tears with all the energy he could muster. 

“For what?” 

Setting the book aside, you took his hand in yours. 

“For not coming home sooner.”

-

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

[onthecuterside]

Hang on a minute...

So yesterday my little corner of the internet got ugly, and this campaign to cancel a Jikook blogger involves several people that I care about, one of whom is not here to say her piece. This is not just about some differences of opinion - and there are healthy reasons to disagree on everything from how much we analyse and speculate on content, where the lines are on privacy questions, and how best to support BTS. I generally prefer not to give oxygen to toxic behaviour so that it dies a quiet lonely death in its corner, but if we value the community we have here - and I really do - then there are some lines to draw. Here are some that were crossed this week:

Respect. OK, we have strong feelings sometimes, some of us are sassy and use vivid language. But (wow, do I have to say this?) it's not ok to use homophobic or racial slurs. It's not ok to misgender people and use other derogatory language. It's not ok to harass and bully people, and no, blocking people to curate your space is neither of these things.

Lying and making spurious claims. One of the claims made was that 2 bloggers left Tumblr because of a hate campaign against them, instigated by @stormblessed95. I know @serendipitybegins was receiving flack for her numbers theories and she mentioned that's why she was leaving. I haven't gone back to look again at all Storm's post at the time, but even IF she was critical of number theories, she has never directed this to specific people or been hateful about it. I was close to @whysojiminimnida and I can tell you NO ONE KNOWS WHY SHE LEFT. She last posted in late November, including an account of an interaction she had with BTS members, with no receipts. Around the same time Storm answered an ask about rumours in which she was IMPLICITLY critical of this kind of post. A total of 3 comments expressed some concerns, politely, that this was either made up or in breach of privacy. WSJ likely received plenty of critical anons, one of which she answered in her typically unbothered style. Like many comments have mentioned, she was not one to be threatened off her blog. As others mentioned, she had serious health issues. Her last DM to me was early December. We were in the middle of working out the finer design details of a hat I was knitting for her poor chemo-ravaged head. Then I never heard back from her. Trust me when I say that I have tried all legal avenues to find out what happened to her. But for now, I am wearing that damn hat myself. I've called it WSJ's Borahae and it makes me fucking sad that her name is being used in this way right when Hobi leaving for the military is making me sad enough.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I am gonna go into the British gang vs. American gang stuff cause I do have actual first-hand knowledge on this. Before I start, I am going to preface this by saying they are both very serious issues that shouldn't be made light of.

I think Americans' problem with how we (I am including myself) view your gang culture is just due to the varying extremes that each has. It's the drowning in a pool versus drowning in the ocean debate. Both are different extremes but show an obvious problem of a lack of resources and proper care and preventative measures to ensure it doesn't happen (like life guards), but ultimately in both situations someone is dead.

Essentially, to a lot of Americans, your gang violence is so not severe. For a good portion of my life, I went to a school that required uniforms. I lived in such a poor area that many students couldn't even afford lunch, but we still had to wear uniforms. Not as a sign of class, but so we couldn't associate ourselves with gangs as school. At one point, I had my hair dyed bright blue cause it wasn't against the dress code but the faculty through a full-on fit and panic because of it. I had to dye it a completely neutral color.

This was in elementary school. I was no older than 11, but by that time, kids were already bringing knives to school and finding ways to associate with their older siblings' affiliations. I am not saying this to be rude or diminutive, but the children were doing exactly the same as your British gangs. As someone who has family from Chicago who has had run-ins with both British and Chicago gangs due to military service, it is somewhat sadly child's play. (Which screams a such larger problem and issue on America's part, cause seriously, I have had guns flashed at me by kids no older than 13)

Also, it just takes into account what each culture views as severe, and it is unfortunate that Americans have such a high tolerance. This entire thing is not to say that the jokes or references are right, though.

[Talking with my mother about this cause this stuff is her cup of tea and she wanted to provide mom lore: *Not paraphrased at all* Oh, mention to them that it is much easier to defend from a knife than a gun and getting shot is a lot more painful than stabbed. Also a lot more difficult to stitch yourself. I WOULD ASSUME! 👀👀 (she has had an interesting life)]

Obviously, I don’t think anyone ever denies that guns are ultimately the end-all-be-all of accessible weaponry. They’re terrifying.

But in the same way that Brits are detached from gun violence, and as such make jokes because ‘oh well it’s stupid it happens’, but they absolutely shouldn’t… Americans also shouldn’t make jokes about knife violence either just because they have a ‘tolerance’. People die.

Like sure, whatever, knife crime isn’t as broadly dangerous or whatever. But people still fucking die. People can stop being insensitive pricks about it, too, because our government is putting in a huge effort to stop it as well.

Why are people making fun of something which is actually a good thing? Yeah people are gonna be scared of knives when it’s the scariest thing that can happen to you. We don’t have guns (mostly), so yeahhh… our gang violence isn’t going to include guns on a big scale.

Like the thing they find funny about Uk gangs is what British people find funny about US school shootings: people (especially kids) die to guns, our government did something about it and yours didn’t. You can’t make jokes about one without enabling jokes about the other.

At the end of the day, it still pisses me off. Even if I understand why it’s seen as funny by Americans, it’s infuriating to know people who have been stabbed, or threatened with knives, and have people dismiss that because ‘we have it worse 🥺’

Like what happens when a gang of guys with knives corners a girl on a night out? Are they making fun of it then? What about when it’s black and brown people getting stabbed in hate attacks? Or kids at a dance class? It was only this year that 3 little girls died to a singular stabbing. And that’s funny?

I don’t care if it’s ’child’s play’ it’s fucking disgusting that anyone finds it amusing.

If school shootings aren’t okay to joke about, why is it okay to joke about little kids getting stabbed and killed? dying even after they get medical attention?

Two things can coexist; guns are bad and so are knives. Neither are funny. Anyone who thinks either is needs to get a fucking grip

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 2

Cw: mentions of injuries, death, sex and scars

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife

“I thought you were a nurse during your war.” He said tracing idle circles around a spot on her shoulder where a bullet grazed her and left its mark on her.

They had ended up at his place, tearing each other’s clothes off and fucking again in his magnificent four poster bed.

She’d never been with a man, done things that had him question her uncle’s claim until he learned it for himself.

Eva had wanted him to take her in the confessional, and he had, against the wooden walls that were supposed to be holy.

A religious experience in many ways.

You are the first woman I fuck here; he had said out of breath after.

The only woman you will ever fuck here and there and everywhere, she had corrected, and he agreed only to humor her.

I’m gonna return you to your uncle with a limp, Mrs. Nelson, he had promised as he carried her over the threshold of his house like a bride.

He had no driver, thank God, it had been so long Eva had ridden in the front seat of a car.

They had decided on the flowers, the colors and the name of their first child by the time they got to his place, a lovely townhouse he shared with his sister-in-law who mercifully was visiting family in the country.

Didn’t help he was calling her Mrs. Nelson and introduced her as such to the housekeeper, a middle-aged woman with an Irish accent strong enough to remind her of her grandfather.

“Nurses are in the line of fire too, you know.” She responded, keeping her secrets to herself.

The witch isn’t sure if she trusts him enough to tell her what she really did during the war.

Would he look at her the same way when she tells him she killed Americans by the dozen to avenge her parents, neighbors, and friends?

It is better if we forget it happened, her aunt had said as they wiped her records clean.

But she cannot simply shut the door behind her.

It comes and goes as it pleases, sure her sobriety has helped quiet the screams and the grief that led her to try and take her life several times, but it will never be over.

Jack was lucky that his post as the newly minted General Manager exempted him from military service.

There was a part of him that hated he was seen as less manly for not having fought in France like his brother had, though, but Laurance Nelson had died in his first real battle and left little Gina and her mother in his brother’s care with his kid brother resenting him for leaving them all behind.

Jack had lived and risen to great heights his brother never got to see. Would live to see his children have grandchildren of their own.

Still, Jack has his own set of scars, scars she kissed and caressed as they come to know each other here.

Eva kissed a faded stab wound near his clavicle and kissed every inch of skin down his sternum.

Marked him as hers to the next lady he fucks, then he’ll know she meant what she said that she is the only woman he’ll have from now on.

He had another one in his abdomen, had found him to be ticklish there as she ventured lower until she reached that wondrous thing that made her see God several times that morning.

Jack was an open book, with the right person.

His past he keeps guarded under lock and key and yet she knows it.

Grown up being an errand boy to a gangster and eventually Party Boss of South Boston, who had taken him and his brother under his wing once they were old enough.

His mom had been his whore for a while, needing to keep her children clothed and fed by any means necessary when his father up and left her with four little ones.

By the time Jack and his brother, Laurence, had become men, they’d seen so much death.

After their little brother and sister died, their mother followed shortly after.

Asked PJ Kennedy to watch over them for her on her deathbed and good old Pat had sworn on Saint Patrick himself to honor her last wishes.

The man had done more than that, he’d left him and his brother everything, including the steel factory that Jack eventually became General Manger of in 1914.

She wasn’t supposed to know that. Eva had learned it when she had seen him from her window when he came to meet her uncle on business.

He hadn’t seen her, but she had gotten a good look at the tall American man who came looking for a wife.

Saw his intentions and past laid out bare before her as he came into the house.

“Frank Wallace, Gutin Gang tried to hijack me thinking I’d gone soft when PJ gave me Bethlehem Steel. Last time they every thought of fucking with me.” He says before she asks.

They have been doing this for a while, worshiping each other’s scars and learning the context for them.

“Zacatecas, artillery felt like it was raining from heaven. Didn’t notice I was hit until we got my brother, Alan, to the only hospital left with an operation theater.” The witch supplies feeling more comfortable as she returns her head to his chest. “He died of sepsis a week later.”

“Laurence died in his first battle. Went in ‘because he wanted to die, and God granted him his fucking wish. They gave him a fucking medal for bravery and called him a hero.” Jack says not bothering to hide his bitterness at having his big brother abandon him and his daughter and have only a fucking medal and a folded-up flag to mourn him.

“I’m sorry for your loss, it must have been terrible for you to lose your brother that way.” She says because she understands his pain. “And I’m sorry for making the both of us dredge up the past, Jack.”

Gabriel could have chosen to accept the deal with Carranza and wait out the war in the safety of America with their uncles.

But when he refused to stop fighting, Eva stayed by his side because she didn’t want him to die alone.

In the end he did, everyone dies as alone as they came into the world.

Such a dark turn this wonderful moment took.

“Got to admit for first dates, it sure as hell it’s gonna be one to remember, Mrs. Nelson.” He said, tilting her chin up and kissing her.

“It sure is, Mr. Nelson.”

[samieree]

Silver Princess || House of the Dragon

Daemon Targaryen | Aemond Targaryen | Gwayne Hightower

-> Chapter III

Chapter IV "Stepstones"

A military council was in progress on the Stepstones. Daemon has recently returned from an attack on the back of his dragon, Caraxes. Unfortunately, the deliberations did not bring any brilliant idea for resolving the conflict, and the numbers were unfortunately on the side of the Crabfeeder.

"Dragon!" Shouted one of the soldiers, pointing to the sky, and those at the map table - Daemon, Corlys, Laenor, and Vaemond - turned their eyes to the sky as well.

Indeed, a beast appeared from behind the clouds, carrying someone on its back. Lowering it's flight slowly, it made several circles around the camp, waiting for the soldiers to make enough space for it to land.

Kaerax sat smoothly on the ground, and only from this distance could it be seen who had suddenly appeared in the war zone. It was Valaerya, who dismounted easily, in a practiced manner, from her dragon's back, taking slow steps as she approached the council place, but looking around the camp as she went.

It's nice to finally stretch your legs after such a long flight.

"Uncle." She began, pulling a sealed letter from her coat pocket. "A letter from my father, King Viserys of House Targaryen, First of His Name." She held out her hand with the letter to him.

She could see that she had caused a stir by appearing here, after all, who would expect a princess almost in the middle of hostilities? Better question: Who would have thought a king would let his daughter come here?

Daemon read the letter from his brother, raising his eyebrows at a few lines. He clearly didn't like the content of the message... And most likely, had Valaerya not been standing before him but some ordinary messenger, he would have beaten him to eat that stupid letter.

But in this case, he held back. He tore up the letter as if it were nothing before addressing his allies at the council table.

"We are attacking according to the plan mentioned earlier." He said, and wanted to leave.

"I am the representative of the crown here, and it's will is clear." Valaerya said, stepping aside to block her uncle's path.

Silence fell around. She knew how some people - especially the soldiers - saw her uncle. But she wasn't afraid of him - or at least she didn't show it. She stood in front of him with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for his next move.

After a few tense moments, Daemon slowly leaned close to her ear.

"Sometimes you have to go against orders to win." He said to her quietly, and thrusting the tattered letter into her hands, he passed her, heading in a direction known only to himself, determined to carry out the suicide plan discussed earlier at the meeting.

Because of course he was too damn proud to wait for backup and thus admit that he needed help.

And Valerya remained where she was. She wasn't sure what she should do, everyone was looking at her and she didn't like it.

"He always disobeys orders, princess." Vaemond said, breaking the silence between everyone. Val's gaze slowly traveled to him, but it showed no emotion.

"Maybe there's a purpose to it." She shrugged and crumpled the pieces of the letter in her hands before stuffing them into her pocket.

"Have you already forgotten how he stole the dragon egg meant for your dead brother?"

"Don't forget who you're talking to and about, Vaemond." She answered immediately, and her gaze was no longer indifferent, it expressed nervousness, anger at these words. She hated being reminded of those times because it also reminded her of her mother's death. Kaerax sensed her rider's anger and moved a little closer, fixing her gaze on Vaemond, growling menacingly as she did so. "Be careful, she's very protective of me."

She looked at the Lords before turning on her heel and walking towards her dragon. She knew that she should return to the capital, but... When she looked towards the place where her uncle was sailing on the boat, she had such a strange feeling... She wanted to take part in what was going to happen there.

She stood there beside Kaerax, one hand resting on her side as she continued to look in that direction with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Princess, it will be safer if you return to King's Landing." Lord Corlys said to her, seeing that the girl was probably already planning to do something very dangerous. And if something happened to her, no one would want to be in their shoes when King Viserys found out...

"What can happen to me on the dragon's back?" She answered with a question, smiling softly. Finally, she grabbed the spikes on Kaerax's back with both hands and accepted her help to sit comfortably on her back.

* * * For a moment, Daemon thought that this daring plan would end in his death. Leaning on his Dark Sister, he stood up, his eyes carefully watching the Triarch soldiers circling him.

Then, in the distance, his and Lord Corlys' men appeared - with him in the lead. But they were far too far away to help Daemon.

The man had already begun to raise his sword to defend himself against the enemies heading towards him, when suddenly a wave of fire flooded them. Two dragons - Seasmoke and Kaerax - began to breathe fire simultaneously from two sides, making a fiery circle around Daemon, burning most of the enemies. Thus, they cleared the way for him to pursue the Crabfeeder, who was already going to take refuge in the caves.

At the same time, Valaerya was really having fun on her dragon's back, feeling that Kaerax was also very pleased with the decision her raider had made. It is true that the specter of danger hung over them, mainly from archers. For excample when Kaerax suddenly changed direction to cover Valaerya on her back.

In most cases, Val didn't even have to order her dragon to breathe fire, it was as if they read each other's minds.

"Dracarys!" But sometimes saying that word warmed her heart. It reminded her of her childhood and learning Valyrian commands, and besides... The word just sounded beautiful. Although she doesn't deny that looking down on the combatants, she herself would like to know how to fight with a sword. To have a sword of her own that she could carry on her belt and pull it out at any time if threatened...

But her father would probably never let her learn swordsmanship. She doesn't know what he would do if he knew that she decided to take part in this fight. Admittedly, on the dragon's back, but still... She was putting herself in danger when she was only supposed to deliver a letter... But he won't find out. Why would he?

When all the soldiers of the Triarchy were dead or dying, Kaerax perched on the rock where the archers had been standing - besides, the body of one of them was under her paw.

From here Valaerya had a good view of the entire field where the battle took place. Down below, she could also see her uncle - he was hard to recognize when even his hair was mostly bloody - dragging what was left of the Crabfeeder behind him.

She guesses it's time for her to actually go back to the capital. She gripped the spikes on the dragon's back tightly and leaned forward, signaling that she was ready to fly. Kaerax slid smoothly off the rock, starting her flight low to the ground and passing dangerously close to Daemon before soaring higher into the air.

Her father would lock her in her chamber if he saw all this... But I admire her for it.

~

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