#file under: analysis

[insextras]

So I'm sure this is just a cameo/where's waldo page but is jean actually pulling people from across space-time? Because we see characters wearing random costumes and some that aren't even from 616

Classic namor, X-Men forever rogue (in the middle), 80s Callisto (bottom right, could also be early krakoa with the white coat), sins of sinister jon ironfire (behind namor)

Uncanny x-men storm, classic firestar, what looks to be Nate grey next to her, alpha flight Northstar (at the bottom), possibly 90s gambit (to the right, above nate)

Maystorm (top left), nightcrawler-wolverine chimera (middle), what looks like academy x hellion (above chimera) classic havok (bottom left), fantomex (right of chimera, weird he hasn't shown up at all in this era)

What looks like phoenix five emma frost

Ultimate universe cyclops, what looks like robo-moira next to him, og new mutants dani and that one alt timeline illyana from dead x-men (bottom left)

Excalibur Rachel, x-force cannonball, cardinal chimera, house of m toad (under cardinal), raze darkholme (right of cardinal), 70s dazzler (under raze), age of apocalypse banshee (under Jean's arm), new x-men xorn (bottom right), 90s siryn (also bottom right) and 90s bishop (left of dazzler)

and a smattering of arrakoan mutants and other recognizable characters throughout the whole thing

[winter2468]

So the permeability of the soul is how Harrow knew about Frontline Tiddies of the Fifth, and how she also knew it wasn't a real publication.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 24 thoughts

season FINALE!!! whew, it has been an emotional time these last few months, let me tell you that. i’m wondering how or if this will be wrapped up. 

the episode description makes no mention of scully’s illness, just more aliens. we always end the seasons with aliens. i imagine that this will also be a cliffhanger, so i’m trying to brace myself for that now.

(author's note: there was nothing short of reaching enlightenment that could have prepared me for this, and even if i had ascended to nirvana, i might have been ripped back out by the sheer tragedy of this storyline)

but damn, with a title like gethsemane, i’m expecting even more tears than usual. 

(author's note: yeah)

let us no longer delay. 

we begin with some videos from 1972, including carl sagan! what’s he doing here? well, he’s doing alien things. are you surprised?

the man on the screen is speaking about the probability of contacting aliens. he says it is very high.

and then cut to scully in some very yellow lighting, politely trying to get to a crime scene to do some FBI business!

wait. is that mulder’s couch???

she just needed to make an ID on a body and BRO WHAT. DID SHE FIND MULDER DEAD??? IN HIS OWN APARTMENT?????

HELLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOO???!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

now she’s in a meeting room with a lot of important people…. 

she’s explaining how she was assigned to the x files four years ago…. and she’s explaining the mulder lore.

“i come here today, four years later, to report on the illegitimacy of agent mulder’s work” <- WOAH WHAT??? betrayal?????

“it is my scientific opinion that he became over the course of these years a victim- a victim of his own false hopes, and in his belief in the biggest of lies” <- that is so sad????!?!??

HELLO??? WHAT??? hey. what’s going on. is that really scully? or is it an alien?

well. they’ve gotten me both hooked and worried. 

is she lying to save him?? is he dead?? is she preserving his reputation in death?? because she said that stuff in the past tense… or maybe he was killed and she will be next if she doesn’t renounce everything???

WHAT IS AFOOT HERE.

scully i just publicly declared you my favorite, you can’t make me take that back…

(author's note: i should have never doubted her <3)

ohhhh fancy, the intro says “believe the lie”

helicopter over the yukon in canada. some guys say the stuff at camp is unbelievable. that's quite a jump in tone from before.

and now they’re marching up the hill, saying they’re very excited etc etc. it looks to be exhausting work. the score is very suspenseful.

they arrive in a cave and shake hands as the newcomers are introduced. and what is in there but…. a frozen alien???

i was hoping it would be a perfectly preserved mammoth :( but okay… whatever… (sadly kicks dirt around)

back to the meeting room with scully!!! she says there have been recent developments on the assumption that aliens exist… mulder was contacted by a man whose “pursuit of this evidence seemed to coincide with his own”, and she says he was duped!!!! fooled by scientific slight of hand!!! 

and she’s here to expose this lie… and to expose his work for what it is….

GIRL, WHAT WENT DOWN???

now a cut to some sort of scully family event!! she’s telling a story about her brother bill. will we finally get to see him!? yes!! here he is!!! like their father, he is also in the navy, and seems to be pretty decorated. 

and he says he sent her a birthday card, to which she says “thanks for remembering this year” LMAOOO get him again for me!!

(why does no one remember her birthday!!! i will cry!!!)

the priest arrives… and scully’s face falls…. why is she sad to see him? and why did he get invited??? i’m stressed. 

father mccue is talking to her about drifting from the church and feeling awkward, but her mom asked him to come tonight. he says turning back to faith is essential in times like this. she says she hasn’t felt a need to draw on faith for strength, that she has some. and she won’t coming running back now.

huh, i wonder if she thinks that “running back” to the church will be admitting defeat. she says she’d be lying to herself and to him if she did that.

maybe she has only lightly been dabbling in god-related affairs since revelations, but not enough to want to return to mass.

but a phone rings… it’s mulder!!!

he says he’s sorry to interrupt her dinner, (so at least there’s some self awareness there) but someone named arlinsky at the smithsonian contacted him about a mountain in canada.

he says she needs to meet him RIGHT AWAY. BRO???????? she looks SO sad when he said that. 

she would do ANYTHING for him. and tbh i see why she wants to expose him now. fuck that. 

she’s assuring him that it’s okay, and he’s trying to apologize, but i’m still mad at him, and scully should be too. and who the hell is this arlinsky guy? apparently he was involved in a ufo photo faking?? but he claims he’s innocent?? THAT is what disrupted her dinner??

he says he won’t tell her what she’s about to see….

he has pictures of an alien frozen in the mountain and she looks deeply unimpressed. girl me too! 

apparently the alien has been in the ice for 200 years. and babcock (arlinsky's colleague) was part of the team that found it.

arlinsky says it’s a very remote location for it to be a hoax, to which mulder once again displays some self awareness with his “well if you’re gonna go, why not go all the way?” but again, not enough to prevent himself from getting in this situation in the first place

arlinsky pulls out the ice core samples from each side of the body, and says he sincerely believes they have a full corpse of an alien. 

but family dinner. i care about that more.

mulder says no one will believe him, and the same people that hid the truth will be asked to authenticate it, so there will be no confirmation either. which is why arlinsky wants him to go and get the body, because he knows it means everything to mulder

ohhhh scully says she has no opinion… “this is your holy grail, mulder, not mine” <- i am glad she is admitting she has no horse in this race

OHHH “proving the existence of alien life is not my last dying wish” <-yeah remind him that you’re literally dying and you can’t waste time because he SEEMS TO HAVE FORGOTTEN!!!!

“this is not some selfish pet project of mine, scully” <- well if it’s for the sake of your sister, but you’re hurting the people around you for it, that is still selfish actually 

woah woah woah i had to write this next part out...

“you already believe, mulder, what difference will it make? i mean, what will proof change for you?”

“if someone could prove to you the existence of god, would it change you?”

“only if it has been disproven”

“then you accept the possibility that belief in god is a lie?” (where are you going with this…? this is a sensitive subject for her!)

“i don’t think about it, actually. and i don’t think it can be proven”

“but what if it could be? wouldn’t that knowledge be worth seeking? or is it easier to go on believing the lie?”

this exchange made me feel frustrated. i wish he would be less ahab-like all of the time. yes, it is a huge deal that someone found an alien. but i see no reason why he couldn't have gone to that meeting by himself. and bringing god into this when he knows that's something very personal to her is a low blow. i get the point he was trying to make about believing the lie and all that, but c'mon man.

mulder honey, i get that this is a big deal to you, but time and place.

she tells him that she cannot go with him, but then he says, well can you just look at the ice core samples please. and she nods her head reluctantly. 

cut back to the big meeting room with scully and other very important people

“what i couldn’t tell agent mulder, what i had only just learned myself, was that the cancer which had been diagnosed in me several months earlier had metastasized. and the doctors told me, short of a miracle, it would continue to aggressively invade my body, advancing faster each day towards the inevitable” <- OH MY GOD??? oh my god. 

but why wouldn't she tell him... did she think that telling him then would interrupt his alien quest?? and she didn't want to do that because she knows how important it is to him? or did she not want him to worry?

because i would have told him!!! i would have said it right then and there!! but she is very different from me...

the fact that she is aware that she has so little time left and STILL left her dinner to go deal with his nonsense… scully, i fear you give too much and need to do things for yourself, please please

back on the mountain, they’re cutting the ice with a chainsaw. feels a bit unscientific, but i mean i guess that’s how you get that stuff done.

one guy is loading a pistol??? saying he doesn’t know the men well. that’s suspicious. i don’t care for it. 

there’s something in the ice. maybe a bubble. or a casting hole!! of liquid poured!! could this be a fake?? but the angle wouldn’t make sense, says one guy. hmm... i'm not sure what to think.

did they put a fake alien all the way up here…? and why is gun guy looking around all shady like…?

back to the core samples in DC. the scientist says he found some hybrid cells in there, not plants nor animals, but chimera, and he wants to get them under a microscope. hmm… can we clone da alien :3

someone walks into the cave in the yukon with a shotgun!!! and kills all of the men!!!!! what the hell!!! is this a real alien then?????

this happens just as others begin the hike up the mountain, including the smithsonian guy arlinsky. and mulder!! i didn’t even recognize him under all those baggy coats and sunglasses. wow. i feel like a fake fan.

someone was supposed to meet them and guide them up the mountain, but there’s no one there, and all the supplies are frozen over. so they begin the hike on their own, following the tracks from the others.

oh! the find someone keeled over in the snow, to which mulder remarks “funny place to take a nap”. again with the inappropriate jokes as a coping mechanism. it’s the guide that was supposed to meet them!! and he was shot and killed!!!

well, the alien is starting to look more authentic as the bodies pile up. 

back at the lab, scully is looking for the scientist, but she doesn’t find him. what she does find is a guy stealing the core sample???

he shoves her down the stairs?????? what the HELL!!!!

see, i thought the alien was a lie at first, but now it’s starting to appear compelling.

mulder and smithsonian guy arlinsky have arrived at the cave, and he pulls out his gun. they find all of the bodies from the crew, and no alien!!! it has been carved out!!!

mulder hypothesizes that perhaps someone was listening to their radio comms and came to hide their alien knowledge, but they hear some groans. and babcock is still alive!!

he says that the alien body wasn’t taken, but that he buried it!! and sure enough, they find it beneath their feet. mulder looks at it with amazement. big moment for a guy like him.

but scully!!! her face is bruised and her pristine lab coat is covered in blood! bill comes in with a change of clothes. and he didn’t tell their mom what happened. 

“i was knocked down a flight of stairs… but i’m okay, luckily”

“you’re not okay, dana” <- OHHHH BILL. please tread carefully.

he says he knows about her cancer and she says mom wasn’t supposed to tell him!!!

she says she doesn’t want sympathy, and he accuses her of thinking she can cure herself. which feels like a terribly low blow.

OHHHH MY GOD. wait hold on. hold on.

“what are you doing at work getting knocked down and beaten up? what are you trying to prove? that you’re gonna go out fighting?”

“oh now, come on, bill”

“do you know what mom is going through? why do you think i didn’t tell her when they called?”

“what should i be doing?” (said with great frustration)

“we have a responsibility, not just to ourselves, but to the people in our lives”

“hey, look, just-just because i haven’t bared my soul to you or to father mccue or to god, it doesn’t mean that i’m not responsible to what’s important to me” (this was very defensive and exasperated in tone)

“to what? to who? this guy mulder? well, where is he, dana? where is he through all this?”

well…. i want to defend mulder, to say he doesn’t know, but just because he doesn’t know that her cancer is getting worse doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have been more sensitive. he actually has been very conscientious, which makes this whole alien thing all the more sudden and infuriating!!!

she is stunned into silence as bill looks at her with fury. and she doesn’t say anything more to him beyond “thank you for coming” <-god, what was she supposed to even say?? i get trying to shake her back to reality, but who did that cruelty help??

bill, i get what you were trying to do, but you pissed me off in the way that you did it. do you always show the people you care for that you love them by screaming at them? because if so. not a very effective tactic.

mulder is unboxing the alien, which is now in DC, and he’s trying to thaw it with the smithsonian guy arlinsky and babcock! who is doing better! despite taking a shotgun bullet.

babcock asks if it were a hoax, why would there be 6 men dead over it, which is a good question. 

ewwww, the alien looks so gross….

with the help of another FBI agent, she finds the guy who hurt her!!!! and he’s working for the government!!!! in the pentagon‘s research facility!!! his name is kritschgau. they should not hire people in the government who assault women in stairwells.

mulder and crew are getting x rays and scans of the alien. mulder is wearing a sweater, but i’m still mad at him so i will NOT make note of how cute it is. 

the alien body is gross as hell. they’re filming an autopsy. ohhh he’s cutting the eye membrane off. EWWWW. EWWW.

now the ribs…… ewww ewww ewwww EWW IT CRUNCHES. NASTY. he takes the ribs out and starts looking at the heart and lungs and some other white stuff in the chest. gag.

meanwhile, scully’s casing the joint looking for the dude kritschgau who assaulted her, and she finds him, tracks him down, and nearly hits him with her car!!! she has her gun and is going after him!!!! he is under arrest!!! 

she is NOT messing around. we see a level of scully fury here that is incredibly potent and shown to us infrequently. i enjoy it, but it also makes me sad, because it shows how much stress she is under.

it appears he has slipped away, but she catches him!!!!! yes ma'am!!!!

kritschgau says that if he gets arrested, they’ll kill him. “they” being the same people that gave her cancer!!! how tf does he know about that???”

meanwhile, the alien organs are being weighed.

then cutscene back to the big meeting with scully!!! she’s telling them about how they smuggled the corpse back, saying mulder was ready to believe it was an alien.

but kritschgau convinced her it was otherwise, and not a true alien… he explained how mulder and her had been deceived and used, and that it was part of their plan that led to missy’s death and her illness.

god, how she must have felt hearing that… that everything that had happened to her was a waste, that the only point in her suffering was to advance corruption... it must have been devastating

as mulder leaves the warehouse where the autopsy was occurring, it seems he’s being watched by a guy with a shotgun??? is the shotgun guy going from before after the alien people????

it IS shotgun guy from before!!!! he knows babcock?? and he kills smithsonian guy arlinsky!!!

now who tf is this babcock fellow?!?!?!?!?!?

kritschgau is now sitting in mulder's apartment, explaining the "everything is a lie" story to him. mulder asks why he'd do this now- a fair question- and kritschgau says he came to him because his son is very sick after serving in the gulf war. i suppose if in this universe that is also something that has been covered up by the government, it could spark some disillusionment in the whole process once it impacts him personally.

he says "they" invented mulder, the regression hypnosis, the story of his sister and what they told his dad, and that the alien body was made carefully in a lab. and it would never be carbon dated, it was only for him to see so he would go public with the news and discredit himself.

mulder declares kritschgau to be a liar, but he says the body is already long gone, so he leaves to check. and sure enough, when he goes back to the warehouse, it isn’t there, but arlinsky is dead, as is shotgun guy!!!

again, WHO TF IS BABCOCK??!?!?

the cellular materials were an exact match to what kritschgau described. 

and this brings us to scully and mulder really fighting, really really fighting

“after all i’ve seen and experienced, i refuse to believe it’s not true” “because it’s easier to believe the lie, isn’t it?” <- ohh callback to earlier....

and she reveals that he said she was given this sickness to make him believe… oh my god, if that’s true, and her life is just a prop in their sick game… 

he storms out. 

back to the video from the 70’s we began with. 

mulder is watching it and crying. oh no… the beginning is clicking into place for me…… oh no, i see what is coming…. 

back to the meeting room. she says she went to his apartment that morning to identify a body, and that mulder died of a self-inflicted gunshot 

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?????????????????

thus concludes the episode

she’s crying, she’s crying, all i can think about is her crying, what the hell, what the hell….

so he killed himself because he realized he was being used as a pawn and it was his fault scully was dying…

normally i would have more to say. but i’m not gonna lie to you, i don’t. this is just so fucking sad. i don’t even have the words. never in a million years did i see this happening. what the hell???? what the hell?

do i believe this kritschgau guy??? i think he’s probably telling 30% of the truth. but not the whole thing. why would all those men die for a fake alien? i think he’s being deployed as a cover story as mulder gets too close. and i think some of this is engineered, but not as much as he claims.

and i'm willing to bet that "believing the lie" actually refers to scully believing his cover story!!!

man. i’m sorry but i’m just so sad. i have been so sad this whole season!!!! 

mulder…… it was rude of you to interrupt her dinner…… but this was not the answer… 

how is sneaky mulder going to get out of the situation THIS time??? and how is scully going to get out of the hole she's dug by reporting all of their work as fraud?? is bill going to be happy now?? lowkey fuck bill, btw.

wow... this is just painful. and i don't even have to wait months to find out what happens next. had i seen this when it aired live i probably would have entered a state of mourning.

so that's the end, huh? of the season, i mean. just sucker punch after sucker punch. i hope this isn't the tone of everything else moving forward. can i get uhhhh one order of whimsy please. with a side of mutual pining. and a small hurt/comfort, emphasis on the comfort. thank you.

after waiting 24 hours from watching the episode initially, i am still torn between how to proceed next. part of me wants to compile all of my favorite moments from the season like always, but the other part of me wants to begin the next episode right away, just so i can move on from such horrible mental imagery as mulder dead from a self-inflicted gunshot. what a terrible thing i wouldn't even have expected from fanfiction!

but, i can also see that the next episode is a two parter, and to be left on ANOTHER cliffhanger would be horrible- but probably LESS horrible than being left with the sadness of dead mulder, right? i don't know what to do! i am filled with indecision!!!!

:(

at least i can take away some fascinating analysis regarding scully's relationship to catholicism, and her idea that depending on any force outside of herself- be it family, friends, or god- is a sign of weakness. i mean, that is pretty telling about her character. and the fact that she believes this so strongly she tried to hide her cancer getting worse from her brother and succeeded in hiding it from mulder!!! to even voice the truth would make it real. maybe that's why she can't tell them, can't go to mass- because it would mean that the end is really near if she did so. i think it's about both the perceived ideas of weakness ingrained in her by her hardass parents and a refusal to let the situation she has found herself in be registered as real in her own mind. she knows it is. but maybe if she pushes it to the side, she can forget for a while.

wow. that sure is something to think over, and think it over i shall.

[danrifics]

dan rolling phil's chair away implying the real punishment is being further apart

omg you’re definitely on to something 😩 cos he does it when phil is being annoying af 😭

[t-w-i-l-l-e-r]

pondering jeremy n rich friendship dynamic post-canon n y’all that shit is craaaaaaaaazzzzzzzzy. Cause I highly highly highly doubt rich just completely dropped all of his self destructive tendencies from during/before canon n I think they would defo show up BIG TIME in his relationship w/ Jeremy. Like, they have the whole squip thing in common right? That’s what they bond over at first!!! same trauma, Spider-Man pointing meme, etc etc. (that plus they were literally shoved into the same hospital room for however long. nothing brings two lost souls together like watching the nurses swap out each others bedpans. shudders in disgust <3). But the thing is like. Rich did that. He not only literally encouraged (n lowkey threatened) Jeremy to buy/take the squip, he also had a direct hand in building the insecurities that made Jeremy interested in a squip at all. Now, as an audience we can generally recognize Rich as a Very Vulnerable And Manipulated Child but if rich had that kind of self-awareness the plot of be more chill would be veeeeeery different so im gonna go out on a limb n say Rich feels megazord guilty for that. And that’s where the self destruction comes in </3. Rich keeps trying to goad Jeremy into snapping at him or being angry in the hopes of getting Jeremy to “finally stand up for himself” but rly he just wants Jeremy to be mad at him bc Rich is mad at himself n feels like he deserves it. I am a VERY firm supporter of Jeremy Heere Snarky Arc post-canon (bc I feel like we see a lot of Jerry Sass in bmc but it’s limited to either just in his head or (affectionately) to Michael), n I think Rich would absolutely play a role in Jeremy developing that side of himself. BUT. Not necessarily in the way rich wants. Bc again, same trauma!!!! Jeremy recognizes that rich understands him now in a way that nobody else rly does. even the ppl squipped @ the play don’t rly understand what that thing does 2 a person after a while, and jeremy rly needs rich after everything, more than either of them realize. He’s not willing to just reject rich out of hand like rich subconsciously wants him to so you get this dynamic that’s just like:

Rich: aw, you mad? You upset lil bitch boy? Whatcha gonna do about it huh???? Hit me???? Do it i dare you!! Fucking hit me!!!!!

Jeremy: rich it is 9 in the morning. 

And I think rich would very quickly learn that ~friendly ribbing~ n stuff is a slippery slope with Jeremy. On one hand, if he teases Jerry n he rolls his eyes n snarks right back, HELL YEAH!!!! Revenge Of The Nerd!!!! Mission accomplished!!!!!!! Rich sees a lot of himself in Jeremy n I think he would be very genuinely proud of him for not just taking shit like he used to (and rich might also think jeremy is actually clever n funny n like that jeremy feels comfortable around him n bond bond relationship sssssshhhhhhhhhh). On the other hand, sometimes rich hits a little too close to home n Jeremy goes quiet. He gives a curt response, or just doesn’t say anything at all. That shit drives rich crazy. Rich says smth shitty about Michael or Christine or smth n Jeremy doesn’t talk to him for a week n by the end Rich is pulling his hair out n just word-vomits “IM SORRY IM A DICK PLZ CAN WE GO BACK TO PLAYING CALL OF DUTY TOGETHER” 

And the thing that fucks me up the most is that. Jeremy is afraid of Rich. Not as much as he was before (I’d imagine watching Rich bitch n moan every time he had to get his bandages changed kinda sanded down the edges a lil bit) but he can’t just forget all that bullying, even if he wants to. For rich, the worst moments r when he goes too far with trying to get Jeremy to b aggressive n instead he just goes pale. His mouth draws into a thin line n he gets fidgety but not the loose stimming of when he’s relaxed or deep in thought, sharp and tight motions like he doesn’t want to be spotted. And he won’t meet Rich’s eye. GIRL!!!!! How does rich even begin to process that emotional LABYRINTH bc like, he feels shitty bc he spent so long trying to fix his self hatred by being a dick 2 Jeremy but now he realizes being a dick is actually… dickish. And unpleasant. And so now he has more self hatred about it. Oops. And then Jeremy’s having a shit time bc PANIC MODE SCARY LOUD but then I think he subconsciously realizes rich feels bad so he feels bad for making Rich feel bad and ugh. Ugh. Yikes. 

But then the thing is,,, Rich can make a joke. Maybe reference their shared SQUIPerience—SQUIP experience, obvi—emphasize the connection between them (rich has gotten rly good at managing potentially dicey social situations. You’ll never guess where he got that skill from). And Jeremy will laugh, a little forced at first but rich keeps going until he’s curled up on the ground, cracking up like he’s about to piss himself. And Rich feels a little bit like he dodged a bullet but a little bit like he gained a friend so? If u add it all together it basically cancels out, he thinks. So they keep talking and hanging out and playing fuckin Call of Duty together and it’s not an apology, not really but… it’s a start, y’know? 

N that’s what gets me about Rich n Jeremy post-canon </3. They both need each other, and they both know it. They understand each other in a way that nobody else in their immediate circle does which is important bc we know how much Jeremy struggles talking 2 new ppl and post-fire Rich is too busy putting the burnt up pieces of his life together to reach out to other SQUIPtims. Jeremy is comfortable around rich in a way that he is with nobody else in the world because he gets it, and Rich feels the same way whether he likes it or not. But Jeremy is also so deathly terrified that it’s all gonna be an elaborate bit, that Rich is unfixable and will always treat him like human garbage or worse Jeremy is unfixable and will always b treated like human garbage. And Rich in turn is afraid of Jeremy’s fear, what it means about himself that he could ruin someone’s life so thoroughly. But then he like? Wants to get Wendy’s with him. So it’s like. Whatever. 

FUCK! 

[appleflavoredkitkats]

what's so interesting abt the lice poll is like. one of the main things i'm getting is the stereotype in the west is that lice = messy/unhygienic, when in my experience in the philippines, lice doesn't usually indicate that? of course there's the stereotype that filipinos are messy/dirty (thanks colonizers!) but if you didn't know, filipinos take a bath DAILY. even if you had financially stable backgrounds, it was common to get lice.

i for one was a child who took a bath daily (same for most filipinos i know) and was very sheltered and i still got lice yearly when i was in gradeschool. they only stopped around seventh grade, even with proper shampoo treatment + lice picking. very interesting stuff

[attorneys-against-court-violence]

She care him I think it's a nice touch that Apollo starts off doubting Athena's intentions before she knocks him back down to reality - this time much more gently than the last. It's a small reminder of their troubles of the past while proving that they learned something from that experience; Apollo & Athena trust each other. There's no need to show that with any more than a simple gesture.

Athena keeping Apollo grounded during rough times (provided he's not being all closed-off and edgy) is both precidented and something he greatly appreciates. It's nice to see the both of them more honest and open around each other after all that, doubly so that they don't have to put each other through hell to prove they can do so. They already have and are much better for it.

Am I reading too far into the funny hand-holding scene? Of course I am, you know me better by now! That's my whole thing!

[aercnaut-archived]

i've touched on it briefly but i really love how season two did lin's hair and makeup. his hair is grown out and unstyled compared to when we first see lee in season one but also, if you look closely, there's still the faintest hint of the mustache

which more or less implies lee hasn't shaved since losing lyra and beginning his quest to find grumman, which also implies lyra has already taken priority over basic needs like grooming and general maintenance. even hester in one of the early episodes of season two, calls him on him acting different. idk i just love when shit like hair and clothes are used to show character growth.

[insextras]

Hear me out

It was stated at one point that Erik's powers would cause him to have headaches and seizures. Typically, seizures don't have significant effects on the brain but apparently if frequent or long lasting enough they can. It's also said that exposure to high levels of electromagnetic fields can create symptoms similar to that of neurodegenerative diseases such as Alzheimer's. My theory is that Erik experiences such wild mental instability not just because of trauma and/or mental illness but because he is a walking EMF generator, and that regular exposure is altering his brain function and is essentially scrambling his brain constantly.

Considering how old Erik is, he has been exposed to electromagnetic fields for basically his ENTIRE LIFE. It could explain why (beyond real world narrative reasons) Erik is normal and reasonable sometimes and other times he'll raid the white house or tear up a city in a fit of rage. It could also explain (at least in my headcanon) why Lorna (considering everything she's been through) has similar bouts of mental illness and fits of rage as well. These bipolar tendencies were also theorized by Moira, which she tried and failed to remedy in Erik. Basically, Erik and Lorna have been steeped in EM Radiation and it's making them sick the same way Firestar's powers gave her cancer.

[your-dads-filing-cabinet]

I literally just finished the episode so first of all spoilers

Second of all oh my gods gothi's voice acting was AMAZING "must be my smile" OW also erina's little "I don't have my powers" AAUGH but most importantly SIPS MY BEST FRIEND SIPS HOLY SHIT

HE CAN'T DIE LIKE THIS HE BARELY EVEN GOT TO REALIZE HE WAS DYING he didn't get to resolve anything he doesn't know if his bestie is ok ALSO WHY IS SNEEZE UNCONSCIOUS he didn't get to see his lil werewolf pal he has to talk to the rest of the party again asksndndmxncncncmckd

And all I'm thinking about is when someone's brain is too overwhelmed with fear or strong emotion that the brain is just hardwired to laugh bc it doesn't have any control and that's just sip's entire arc and he didn't even get to control his own death. The one thing he was always running from caught up to him the way he was so afraid it would aaaaaaaaaaa

[suffering-with-fiery]

Hi hi! I've recently been listening to a ton of different vocaloid lately, and I've been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of meanings and symbolism present in the lyrics and the music videos ( niru kajitsu, syudou, hiiragi kiraii, etc...) and so, I wanted to ask you : how do you analyse songs with ambiguous meanings?? I've read all of your analyses, and I was amazed by your analysing techniques. So it would really help if you could share your methods. If you want to ofc!!

I would love to! It's a little hard to explain if I'm honest but I'll try my best!

First and foremost, very obviously, listen to the music! Listen to music that you like enjoy! If you enjoy the music then you won't get tired of listening to it as easily, which will allow you to look through everything in the video without being bored of it!

Next, start with the easy things to analyze. It will get the bigger more obvious things out of the way and it will help paint the picture for the smaller details! Make sure you do your research too!

Next, work your way towards the smaller things. A lot of times this is a more difficult area to work with because of how much there is, and sometimes even I myself don't know where to start. Sometimes it's best to take a break before starting on this part!

Make sure you take an adequate amount of breaks. You don't want to drain yourself.

Next, don't be afraid to take pointers from other theories or reference things other people have found. For example, in some of my theories I've quoted someone who used to do Hiiragi stuff (9lore, name since changed I believe). Just make sure if you reference someone else's theory, you credit them! And also, don't be afraid to research something someone else has already researched.

Next, onto the topic of doing the research. Sometimes a simple Google search just won't give you the information lmao. Sometimes it's best to look for leads elsewhere, but make sure you don't endanger your internet safety for it. When I say "elsewhere" I mean things like witness accounts, or articles surrounding the broad topic instead of the specifics.

Never ever put your safety on the line for this kind of thing!

I hope this helps at least a little bit!! I'm not very good at explaining my process lmao. Send me another ask/comment/pm if you have anymore specific questions on it! I'll do my best to answer them!!!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

season 1 episode 13 thoughts

A SCULLY EPISODE!!!! i was overjoyed and then i felt deep and immeasurable grief as the minutes went by.

she wants to leave her christmas tree up all year <3 she's a good cook <3 her dad calls her starbuck <3

but her dad is being avoidant! he didn't even say i love you when he left!

! dana scully lore reveal ! her dad lowkey sucks!!!

and then he IMMEDIATELY DIED right after! that is sick and twisted. why do they make my girl endure such pain.

the next note i made for the episode was "omg windows you have to crank!" which was a brief moment of levity among the Sorrow. except even the guy doing the said window cranking was kidnapped right after. still, the novelty of it all!

when scully came into work even though her dad had just died... we see mulder call her "dana" for the first time... she was visibly taken aback by this... and mumbled her name back to herself... my heart was melting out of my body

and when i thought i was going to already collapse from the "dana" moment, he tells her she should take some time for herself and then. softly cups her cheek. and strokes it with his thumb. holy fuck i nearly sobbed. it was the softest thing i have ever seen. what the hell man.

he has this instinctive need to touch her. to use his touch to keep her safe or bring her comfort. it will be psychoanalyzed at a later date from me but for now, know i am noticing the motifs.

(also, when he finally left his office, we see that he kept the hat from the alien obsessed guy in episode 10... good to know this is a man who takes souvenirs. take him to the zoo and see what he comes back with)

so then we cutscene to her dad's funeral and we learn that her father was in the navy- perhaps this is why he is unduly harsh. and then we got ANOTHER scene that beat my heart into a pulp: scully turning to her mom and asking "was he proud of me?" her mom waits for a beat and says "he was your father". HEY! THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER!!!!!!!!!

(who wouldn't be proud of scully? i'm taking names. write them down)

when interrogating the death row psychic mulder once again said "i want to believe" and i once again wrote in my episode notes "HE SAID THE LINE!"

interesting that this is an episode where scully believes and mulder doesn't, almost immediately from the beginning of the episode. but the psychic says stuff her dad would say and therefore she gets emotionally invested even though mulder says it's nonsense, and that this guy is setting them a trap because mulder got him put on death row. and when she listens to the psychic's clue and find evidence at an abandoned warehouse, mulder yells at her for putting herself in danger. to which she said:

"i thought you'd be pleased i opened myself to extreme possibilities"

scully i am REACHING through the screen and telling you i'm proud of you in case no one ever did that before

(and MAYBE mulder yelling at her for putting herself in danger because he thinks he needs to protect her WAS deeply satisfying but still. read the room my king)

(also revealed in this scene: mulder is a jimi hendrix fan. i am tucking this knowledge in my pocket and storing it safely)

then the psychic decided to reveal some of her personal memories and we learn she stole a cigarette when she was 14 and she thought it was disgusting but she wanting to do something they would disapprove of. and she was so scared but so excited. are you kidding me? are you absolutely kidding me. the need to rebel from an assigned role in which she feels she MUST be perfect has haunted her from a young age, and when she finally did something her parents really disprove of- joined the FBI instead of working as a doctor- she's met with rejection. so now we know she's had this terrible need to do what pleases those she loves and to break that is a rush from its inherent moral Wrongness. the isolation of being the Good Child who does what She's Told vs. the isolation of being the Less Good Child who loses their parent's approval. that terrible ache of knowing you once pleased them and now you don't. the conditional nature of affection. ohhhhh good lord.

later mulder gets shot and scully thinks the psychic lured him into a trap which leads to her screaming at him (like SERIOUSLY screaming) that if mulder dies, she'll kill the psychic herself. now this was especially crazy because we have only at this point seen her yell once before which was in episode 8, but this was 10x that intensity. also wild for revealing that she will kill anyone who hurts mulder. once again i say holy FUCK.

mulder is wheeled in to the hospital and still telling her not to believe him, says that he's luring her into another trap. at this point i was yelling "TELL MULDER HE KNEW ABOUT YOUR DAD!" but she was too deep in the grief to bring it up

(throughout the entire episode she is hallucinating her dad in places he isn't, which is arguably far more impactful than just seeing her cry)

when the psychic reveals the location of the murderer and they go to check it out, scully straight up shoots the suspect. she is NOT playing around, y'all. i think this is the first time we see her shoot someone, which is already a lot to unpack. but then she doesn't follow the killer because the psychic had warned her against it and in this way he saves her life.

then she says thank you to the psychic, who says "come to my execution and i'll give your father's message to you" and she DOESN'T GO. mulder asks her why, because now he seems to think that psychic dude really WAS telling the truth, and she no longer does:

"why can't you believe?" "because i'm scared"

she's scared!! she's scared to believe. she's scared to know what is out there and she seemed scared to know what her father had to say. isn't there enough uncertainty in this world ruled by facts and science? what could the possibilities be like beyond that? why believe in what you cannot control? she says she knew what he would say because "he's my father". is that enough for her? or was she too frightened to hear that he wasn't proud of her?

overall i've said "holy fuck" like a LOT during this recap and i truly feel that those are the only words i have for the situation. getting to see more scully lore was EXACTLY what i was hoping for and i'm so pleased but also so so so sad. like she keeps her christmas tree up and she's a good cook and she has this terrible need for her father's approval that he won't give and then he goes and dies. i need about 10 beach episodes to make up for the sadness here. chris carter i'm in ur walls.

[dotsunflowers]

.

[calmlb]

adding my two sense because it’s probably the best Dazai analysis i’ve read to date…

i think that Dazai's distorted self perception is vital to his character (similarly to how Yozo in NLH was an unreliable narrator). he cannot see himself as good no matter how much good he does, or how many people tell him, because he believes to his core that he is bad— so bad that he is disqualified from being a human being. and so he is consumed by shame, adding to his hopelessness.

the irony in this is that Odasaku was right— Dazai didn’t (doesn’t?) see much difference between right and wrong. it’s hard for someone like Dazai to see the difference, with as smart, and able to see through people as he is— because the hypocrisy of human nature is so blatant. plus, when you can’t find a reason to live, nothing really matters. everything starts to become pointless. what’s the point in discerning between right & wrong if life itself is pointless?

i think this mindset contributes to Dazai’s apathy towards killing. when you don’t see the point in living— when it doesn’t feel worth it— it becomes nearly impossible to fathom why anyone else would want to be alive… to fight to stay alive (enter Dazai’s fascination with Chuuya).

“There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering.”

it might even seem like mercy to end someone’s life (i don’t know if Dazai saw it like this, but i don’t think he saw it as a bad thing. and we saw him show mercy to the GSS solider by killing him so he wouldn’t suffer a slow, painful death). we know Dazai considered dying to be a luxury— he was giving the soldier exactly what Dazai himself wanted so desperately, hence his slight mental breakdown in that scene.

“Ha ha ha. What a luxury. Ha ha ha ha ha!”

i also think this excerpt from stormbringer is so important because it shows that Dazai rarely, if ever, enjoyed the things he did in the port mafia, such as killing (and this remains true). that’s the point.

The longer he worked for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he became. Nobody knew exactly why, either. Nevertheless, Dazai continued to slaughter his enemies and serve the Port Mafia in order to force himself into an even darker place. His achievements were outstanding. But there was one person who did not take delight in his glory: Dazai himself.

he joined the port mafia, pushing himself further & further into the darkness, thinking that if he could observe death up close, he could find out just what it was that made people fight to live. yet he still couldn’t find it— partially because he took no pleasure in the things he did. whether or not he felt negatively about his actions, i'm not sure, though if Dazai does feel a lot of shame it’s possible. but at the very least, he was neutral/apathetic about them. like op said, it was logical… able to be rationalized— the optimal solution. a way of thinking that he was naturally inclined to, but was trained into him even more by Mori.

most of the things Dazai had to do were either:

1. just part of the job/how the mafia functioned. i think he very quickly became desensitized to death & violence, if he wasn't already before meeting Mori, which i don’t think he was completely, based on his reaction to seeing the Old Boss murdered.

OR 2. orchestrated or subliminally influenced by Mori. Mori was training Dazai because he saw himself in him— he projected on him because of his own loneliness and groomed him to be, probably, the next boss. i don’t think a lot of people realize how Mori’s abuse of Dazai actually worked. it was much more covert and subconscious manipulation. he put the idea in Dazai’s head to recruit Chuuya, and how to do it, but he did it in a way that made Dazai initially believe it was his own idea. Mori was trying to train Dazai to think like he did— to always make the optimal, logical choice— because that’s how Dazai’s brain was already inclined. but as we saw in dark era, Dazai was much more emotional than Mori (or at least, he couldn’t completely put aside his emotions for the sake of logic. and after Odasaku’s murder, Dazai wouldn’t put aside emotion for the sake of logic— another reason he left the mafia).

Dazai is not emotionless, nor is he sadistic. this is one of the reasons i’m so passionate about doing away with using the “Demon Prodigy” nickname in the fandom so casually (it was originally a spin on a line from a fan translation of The Heartless Curr, but it’s found nowhere in canon). in my opinion, it badly mischaracterizes Dazai because it pushes the idea that he was an absolute demon of a person. when in fact, the moments when he could be interpreted as sadistic, cruel, or heartless were usually just masks.

Dazai is a chameleon— he shows people exactly who they need him to be in order to accomplish his goals. if you think PM Dazai was a demon, then Dazai (and Mori) accomplished their goal. Dazai, because as a child in the mafia & the boss’s right hand man (& accomplice in the murder of the Old Boss), this protected him. Mori, because if everyone feared Dazai, not only would they listen to him, but Dazai would be even more alienated and lonely. this would make him even less resistant to Mori’s influence, and to suppressing his emotions & connections in favor of the end goal, which is what Mori was training in him.

this isn’t to say that Dazai didn’t do anything wrong when he was in the mafia. obviously he did, but most of it was just doing his job. Chuuya and everyone currently in the mafia still do those things every single day, but i don’t see people acting like they’re merciless killers all the time. intentions matter, and from everything we’ve seen in canon, even when Dazai looks like he’s doing something wrong or cruel, etc, it’s always with a good intention (unless i’m forgetting something).

much like Kyouka, Dazai was very talented, and his skills served him very well in the mafia. but that doesn’t mean he himself was well suited for the mafia, or that his skills couldn’t be used for good (hence why he was able to get through to Kyouka).

one of my favorite things about Dazai is how he’s always taking in the strays. i don’t know if he’s consciously aware he’s doing it, but he’s always saving the lost or those with nowhere to go. this was true even when he was in the port mafia— he recruited Chuuya (granted the idea was put into his head by Mori but my point stands), he recruited Odasaku, he recruited Akutagawa, and Gin by extension.

after he joined the agency, Dazai recruited Atsushi, who in turn recruited Kyouka (but Dazai aided in that too), and now we have the potential of Sigma being recruited (we don’t know how the Tanizakis & Kenji joined so who knows? maybe Dazai had a hand in recruiting them too).

Dazai is naturally inclined towards helping people, no matter how much he’s blind to the fact (other examples include leaving the choice to Chuuya in stormbringer, renting out an entire building for Oda’s orphans to keep them safe, training Akutagawa so he wouldn’t end up killing himself, etc).

but Dazai doesn’t let himself get close or attached to people, because:

1. everything he wants is lost the moment he obtains it. yet there are certain people he can’t help but get attach himself to. like a barnacle, along for the ride so he observe these people he finds “interesting,” and hopefully learn what makes them want to live… because that what’s he’s after right? a reason to live.

Dazai doesn’t want to die because he’s depressed. he’s depressed because he wants to die can’t find a reason to live. i think Dazai is more of a case of “doesn’t want to be alive” as opposed to “wants to die.” it took me a long time to understand the meaning of this quote from dark era, but once i did, i think it perfectly sums this up:

“Awaken me from this oxidizing world of a dream.”

being alive is too painful. and Dazai hates pain.

awaken me = death. oxidizing world = just the act of being alive is eating away at him. world of a dream = this world has to be a dream because if this is reality, it’s too painful to bear, so he’s clinging to the hope that whatever comes after death is better than this.

and 2. like op said, Dazai is terrified of people seeing his “true self,” which he believes is not human. so even though what he wants most is to be seen & known, it’s also what he fears most. he hides behind his masks and resigns himself to being misunderstood. this disorganized attachment style dooms him to his loneliness just as much as his intelligence does.

“He's sharp-witted with a mind like a steel trap. And he's just a child— a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we're seeing." He was too smart for his own good. That was why he was always alone. The reason why Ango and I were able to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside it no matter how close we stood.

Dazai’s loneliness is just as vital to his character (and this intense loneliness is also what Dazai and Chuuya mirror in each other).

“…nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

even now, in the agency, that loneliness still isn’t gone. Dazai still feels alienated by his intelligence and imposter syndrome and feeling like a monster masquerading as a human in a world of humans. he still doesn’t want to be alive. but he’s still searching for a reason, and he figures, while he’s here, he might as well help others along the way

(and you know he’s being genuine here bc harukawa sensei drew him with the faded effect <3)

Writing a complex character such as Dazai is actually really hard even for people who understand him because he is, as you said, extremely unpredictable. I don't know exactly what to tell you, but I'll try to help a little bit!

The whole thing about Dazai is that he doesn't understand humanity. He understands the basics and why people do what they do because he is analytical and has been studying people's behavior and human connections forever. But he doesn't feel connected with humanity and empathy the same way other people do. He perceives others from like, the other side of a barrier. He studies them carefully. Manages to care about them deeply sometimes. Even deeper when they're able to see him and get to him (Odasaku, Atsushi, Chuuya, the whole agency in fact means something to him). But there's always this layer of disconnection and apathy and emptiness he doesn't know how to get rid of. It's like he cares, but he actually doesn't because he rationalizes everything and turns it into a game of chess, more or less? And I think that frustrates him. He isn't used to caring about people because he doesn't understand them, but he takes an interest in the people he finds amusing to study and once he cares deeply, they're taken away from him (that's why he mourns and regrets Oda's death so much. He feels like the world takes everything away from him the second he manages to feel human). Hence the whole thing about not feeling human (amongst other things). He cares and yet he is realistic. He has regrets and suffers and feels pain and he can care about others (ignore all the people who keep portraying him as an emotionless monster, please) but he doesn't drown in self-pity when it comes to all the people he has killed and his past because he can rationalize that. It was another era. He has moved on. And if it's for the greater good of the mission or his journey to find something to live for, he doesn't care how many random people he has to kill (when he was younger he valued other people's lives way less, of course. Now that has changed because his apathy is something he doesn't turn into cruelty and instead uses to rationalize plans and help the world and the agency. Basically, when he was part of the mafia it was kind of "I don't give a fuck about random people" because he genuinely didn't feel anything for them, but now, even if he doesn't genuinely care for them, he protects even random people because that's what the image of kindness Oda had planned for him). Oda tells him that, if the good side and the bad one are the same and he hasn't found anything to live for yet, why not help the world while he's at it? And it's such a beautiful thought because Dazai has this issue with understanding humanity and making bonds. But he understands, now more than ever after Oda's death, what living and killing means. He might not actually care that much for society and its well-being, but maybe he can find something to live for in the light more than he would in the darkness. He keeps wanting to kill himself, right? He keeps trying. But he doesn't actually want to. It's common sense. If he truly wanted to, he already would've done it. "I don't like pain" is the most common thing to say when you don't actually want to do it. I think that, unlike Nikolai, who actually craves to die as a representation of freedom, Dazai only wants to keep trying and trying to find a reason for living. Chuuya was that thing when he was in the Mafia. Chuuya and Oda, because Chuuya is quite literally his soulmate (in the sense of bringing amusement to his life and also making him feel human, as his ability is the only thing that can help Chuuya. And also Chuuya not being human but being the most empathetic and emotional of all the people Dazai has met in the mafia) and Oda was the first one to actually understand him and see him for who he is, something I don't think he'll ever find again and that's why Oda's death fucked him up so bad. He found a place to belong and somebody to live for, and then he dies and leaves him alone? It's not fair, but he'll try to fight for good and live in the light if that's what Oda wanted for him. As if Oda knew him better than he knows himself because I also think he has a hard time with his own perception and personality.

In simpler words: Dazai has a hard time understanding humanity because he feels disconnected from it by a layer of apathy and the fact that he doesn't understand basic human needs/actions because he doesn't share them. One of the things that makes us human is desires, right? Wanting. Loving. Longing. Dazai rejects all of that because he doesn't know what he wants and nothing he tries ends up making him feel whole. In "No Longer Human", actually, you can read things like "It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people" and "I have never known what it means to be hungry / Eat or die, the saying goes, but to my ears, it sounded like just one more unpleasant threat". So he isn't a monster, his brain just functions in a different way. He sees everything. Analyzes every little thing. He's smarter than everybody else and he's aware of that, but he feels lonely there and only wants somebody to understand or something to fight for. Oda gave him both things, and the agency gave him a reason to keep going because he genuinely cares about doing good and keeping them safe. I don't think Dazai's journey has ended, because he still fights against.... So many things with himself. His past. His future. His desires. But at least now he has a thing to enjoy and bring him happiness. His constant act of being "silly" isn't that much of a facade. I mean, I think it is because if he acts like a clown, nobody will ever see the true self he hides. But I think he ends up having fun with the agency and annoying Chuuya because he sees them respond to his behavior and he finds it amusing. I think being extremely smart and lonely and tormented can coexist with being fun sometimes.

As per writing in his POV.... It depends on what you want to write, really. I think his brain functions differently depending on his mood. I guess the most important thing is to keep in mind his surroundings because he's always hyperaware of every little thing. But it frustrates him not knowing how he's feeling or not understanding what he actually truly needs, often focusing on others instead of looking into himself, because every time he does, he only finds himself empty and craving for something he doesn't know what it is. In his worst moments, I think it's quite obvious he tries to fix things with distractions and impulsive actions like substance abuse. In his more analytical moments, it's when he becomes more apathetic and sees the world as his game of chess and people as only pawns. He knows he's human, he just doesn't feel like it. Fyodor has a sense of superiority Dazai doesn't share. He's smarter because his brain functions differently, but he is no God. He is no entity. He analyzes from the POV of somebody external to humanity but knowing quite well he isn't God. And when he's having genuine fun and feeling some type of care/love? I think he's grateful. The emptiness is always there, though. Always haunting him. In the back of his brain. But he sees hope in Atsushi and a place to keep his promise in the agency and maybe fulfill his heart. He might always have a fucked up perception of himself, but at least he's aware that doing the right thing fills the hole in his chest more than tormenting others. As I said, he likes it there (and Chuuya) because it makes him experience humanity even if he keeps telling himself he isn't human (No Longer Human quote: "You miss her, don't you?" / "Yes." / "That's human nature, I guess").

I don't know if I helped you?? I think it's a bit of a mess, sorry 😭 It's like 3am and I don't know if what I said makes any sense, but I really hope I was able to help you!

holy FUCK it took me fifteen minutes to read all of this and i'm glad i did because this is the most succinct and articulate analysis i have ever seen of dazai's underlying nature and his ambitions in relevance to the plot OP I THINK IF ASIGIRI CANT WRITE ANYMORE YOU SHOULD TAKE OVER BSD MANGA BC I THINK U UNDERSTAND DAZAI BETTER THAN HE DOES SOMETIMES TBH💀💀 aaaa jkjk i digress you were so real for bringing up the yozo/dazai parallels bc there's genuinely so many and if i still had my fucking BOOK :side eye: i could go through the intricate and profound commentary i left in the margins but alas my dear friend insists on keeping it longer. there's nothing more i can say on this topic bc i agree w you on everything wholeheartedly i think you deserve a scholarship to harvard or smth bc god DAMN you would slay as a lit or lang major

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

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

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

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

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

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.” 

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

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

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

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Classified?” You finish for her. 

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

The less there is to make you a target. 

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

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

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

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

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

That, and the excuse for violence. 

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

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

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

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

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

You look nervous. 

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

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

His omega. 

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

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

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

He doesn’t even want to think about that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 

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

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

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

He hasn’t failed her yet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

One more to go. 

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

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

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

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

“Coming, Si?” 

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

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

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can hold power over them. 

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

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

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

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

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yes, sir.” 

“You lived on base?” He asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 

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

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

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

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 

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

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

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

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 

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

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

He’s going to be a problem. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” 

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

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

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

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

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

He’s testing you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They could if they wanted to. 

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

“You hungry, pup?” 

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

Pup. Price called you Pup. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s proving his ability as a provider. 

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

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

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

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

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

NEXT ->

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

[tibby-art]

hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..

haven’t been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :’D ill include them under cut

=+=

“This better be something good,” Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered ‘boring’ missions to be a waste of his time.

“I hope so,” Cub hummed. “Hope so.”

The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.

“Holy mother of—! Knock next time, will you?” A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.

“The Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,” Scar said casually. Cub snickered.

“Sure, whatever.” Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but he’s busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.” He huffed, composing himself. “Your new top-secret project. This one’s a doozy. Have a look.”

Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.

What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.

“Who’s this?” Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?

“That is Grian,” Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. “Grian has been with us at the NHO for months.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Scar remarked.

“Grian’s case is top-secret. He’s been staying in high-security, private quarters… as well as our research laboratories.”

“I thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,” Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadn’t heard a single word spoken to him.

“Cub? What’s the deal?” Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?

“Watchers?” Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“After months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,” Beef nodded slowly.

Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.

“So this is not a hit,” Scar said after a moment.

“This is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,” Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.

“Mortal, you say?” Cub raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Beef said. “She was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything… dangerous happened.”

“So,” Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, “If this isn’t a hit, then what do you want from us?”

Beef sighed. “After months of testing to determine Grian’s situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, we’d like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.”

“You want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,” Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Scar put both hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“I suppose we could give it a shot,” Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.

“Sure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,” Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.

“You’ll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,” Beef instructed. “Hand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldn’t help but grin wider when he noticed Cub’s hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.

“Don’t be late. I’m serious this time,” Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.

=+=

The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.

“So, how about introductions?” Doc clapped his hands together. “Er… Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.”

The ConVex hadn’t taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.

“Well hello there,” Scar greeted. “I’m Scar, and this is Cub.”

“Hey, hey,” Cub said quietly.

“Hello,” The corner of Grian’s mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.

The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.

“Wonderful introduction. Now that we’ve broken the ice, let’s talk about your next mission.” The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.

“Before we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,” Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVex’s direction.

A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.

At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.

“Oh, are we boring you, sir?” Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.

“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.

“As I was saying,” Bdubs continued loudly.

Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasn’t.

Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed?

Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.

The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until they’ve forgotten, or they think you’ve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.

“Quit it,” Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.

After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!” Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.

The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.

“Sorry,” Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. “Just had to stretch a bit.” He stared back at Bdubs innocently.

The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. “Well, regardless, I think we’ve about summed things up,” he grumbled.

Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.

Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.

=+=