#neither of them were reactive dogs

[seekingthestars]

delivery driver: puts 2 packages on the porch at 9:15pm

me: goes to get packages and realizes they're for TWO DIFFERENT NEIGHBORS. he delivered two packages going to DIFFERENT HOUSES to the wrong address

me, deeply apologetic: goes to TWO DIFFERENT HOUSES to give neighbors their packages at 9:30PM just being like "i am so sorry i am on your porch so late but i do not want these in my house to have to deal with later, pls take your box" fjewioafewa

[kosher-salt]

What's this? An actual blog post on my tumblr.com? It's more likely than you think.

Thoughts from the workplace:

It comes up a fair amount in discussions about Palestine, particularly Gaza, and how to help this region find prosperity and legitimate sovereignty. It comes up in talks about military withdrawals and Afghanistan. And it comes up in geometrical ⬠ courtyards in the American northwest over cups of the world's most classified coffee (where they prefer baristas with security clearances and septum piercings).

It's Japan, and it's Germany, and it's how they were reformed as democratic nations with democratic militaries after WWII.

Two points:

I wonder if the power vacuum and successful democraticization of these nations is what hooked the US on the kill-the-government-throw-money-into-it-and-leave shtick that frankly hasn't been working very well since this fluke. Now ideally, we don't absolutely destroy any more nations or nuke anyone in the future, but there were some aspects of post-war that made this forceful takeover more successful than other, more recent attempts at regime toppling. Firstly, Germany and Japan's governments were decimated. We call this the "clean slate" concept and it relates to cancer as well. You cannot wipe out most of a regime and not expect tangential actors to take advantage and install and equally bad government. You also can't remove part of a tumor and expect the patient to stay in remission.

Point 2 brings me no joy, really. I feel it needs to be said. I'm not happy about this: Germany and Japan are where they are at because of unconditional surrender. This meant that neither Germany nor Japan could negotiate the terms of their post-war military restructuring, allowing the Allies to dictate reforms from the ground up. You want to Japan-ify Gaza? Hell yeah I want to see them thrive, too. But the reality is that this was only possible because the extant, defeated, government had no say in how anything went.

The current government of Gaza is terrorist. The current PA is working with and funding terrorists. You will not achieve Kyoto in the middle east by negotiating with terrorists.

I dislike occupation. It feels like keeping a reactive dog (animalizing the government not the people y'all) on a catching pole.

Preferably the dog is rehabilitated, right? Cool, yeah, but not all reactive dogs are considered rehomeable. To avoid that separate debate, let me expand the metaphor for accuracy: the dog has rabies.

You can't keep it on the pole forever. Frankly it's inhumane. It's putting everyone that has to deal with the dog at risk and it's not sustainable. Nobody is happy, not the people in proximity to the dog, not the dog catcher, and certainly not the dog. But the solution is not to put down the leash.

I hate it I hate it I hate it because it is so hawkish. But doves do not win wars. If you want to go the Japan/Germany rehabilitation route, you are going to have to aggressively cut out all the cancer and cauterize the wound. You're going to have to put the dog down.

You cannot rehabilitate Hamas. Gaza cannot determine the conditions in this scenario. So maybe it isn't the path you prefer under that understanding anymore. That's fine. Or maybe you still desire that outcome, but you're going to have to come to terms with how the path there will not be pretty or peaceful. That's also fine as your stance. I'm not your mom.

But I just don't think progress will be made without coming to terms with the fact that there are people in this world in power that will not cede without fatality or complete removal of capacity of influence. And yes, debate on this subject does impact the opinions and proceedings of what happens behind the scenes where decisions are made. Because Israel, the US, and the EU (all actors in this conflict) have governments staffed by human beings. I'm a human being and I read public thought and debate on this all the time. I engage with it often. I'm doing so right now. I say this with love in my heart for all the dovish people and the patience and kindness you embody: please familiarize yourself with what happened to Japan and Germany and their governments in the process to peace. It wasn't clean cut, but it was effective. It was effective, but it wasn't clean cut. It's not good, it's not ideal, but war is never humane. The best thing to do is to get it over with as quickly as possible and spare the uninvolved as much as possible, but mercy to those involved in an authoritarian regime is not feasible.

Those are just my musings, though.

Anyways I hate my job I should have stayed majoring in environmental science so I could stress about climate change instead of the carnage of war.

Disclaimer: all opinions are my own and not representative of any government. I'm not even directly employed right now I'm hanging out in academia for the time being.... It's somehow less chill.

Actually, one more note: both countries went through rearmament, with emphasis on civilian authority over the military. With Japan, the US forced the 1947 constitution to read that it could only be a defensive military and not a traditional one. Both countries though, it should be added, were rearmed because the US wanted them to act as bulwarks against communist expansion.

So idk man. It's not a perfect enough parallel imo to say we can Japan-ify Gaza but I'm not without hope. I'd say one thing is Israel could promise that the IDF would defend them if they'd be allied or at least normalized relations, but.... who exactly is Gaza scared of? The surrounding countries don't want to annex them. Egypt dislikes them but Israel isn't about to threaten Egypt on Gaza's behalf. So there's not a carrot or a stick in that aspect.

[pawsitivevibe]

We borrowed Willow to take her and Arthur on a walk in a park together. It was lovely. They are so good together. It's weird to walk two dogs and neither of them is reactive or anything! Such good solid temperaments. Delightful little dogs. I ended up attaching both of them to my waist belt and they were perfect. I might just need my own second Cocker Spaniel one day.

Multiple people asked if they were Springer Spaniel puppies though. Springers are very popular, but English Cockers are rare in my area.

[girlhorse]

shout out to my first dog daycare job, who for some braindead reason worked together with this wildly incompetent dog rescue to foster some of their dogs; one of which was extremely aggressive toward men and had prey drive so high she wanted to kill small dogs, and others with extreme dog aggression and bite histories. One ended up biting a coworker during a dog fight so bad he needed surgery on his hand and was unable to use it for months. the dog attacked two customer dogs. He also bit a photographer doing his adoption shoot lmao. and yet he was still allowed to board with the kennel.

(i must also mention that NONE of these high energy dogs were being exercised daily. they were in kennels pretty muchall day except for quick potty breaks. Several had reactivity issues and were making the environment ridiculously stressful for the dogs that were there for daycare/boarding )

my first terrible experience with these foster dogs was when the two rescue owners came to the lobby (i was front desk girl) and wanted me to fetch both of the dogs to walk them together. It was a newbie mistake move but neither of them thought to inform me that they had DA issues. I walked both of them together on leash, and before I got to the lobby they started attacking each other. I didn't know what to do because i was not at all trained in dog fights so i held their leashes as far apart from each other as possible (im smallish so my armspan was short enough for them to reach each other's faces) and to this day its the only dog fight ive witnessed that drew a fairly significant amount of blood. (dogs were somehow ok with just lacerations but it was bloody!) (it got broken up when I managed to grab my walkie and yell for help)

the events that led to me being fired were also related to one of the foster dogs. This dog was over 100 lbs (not overweight), had a history of aggression toward men, dog aggression, and extreme prey drive. we had to use our walkie to warn other employees when she was being walked down the hall.

one morning, I was the only person to arrive to do opening duties and feeding; as my coworker had an emergency at home (break in) and we had about 60 dogs to feed and let out to potty. it was my first ever opening shift and neither of my supervisors came to the daycare early to help me.

i did okay by myself but i was taking a long ass time because no one could help me for hours. eventually my coworker showed up to help.

Relevant to this story is that we would "walk" dogs by letting them loose in a fenced area, there were multiple fenced in areas so there was about 4-5 yards each dog could use. They were left outside to potty *without supervision* because we would be having to move so many dogs and do so many feedings etc.

anyway

the events leading up to this Mistake are a bit unclear, since we were both walking and in the confusion it was hard to remember who did what (exactly why i hated when coworkers would split up duties without communicating with me properly) and somehow we both forgot that the small dogs were still out in the yard before moving on to the bigger dogs.

my coworker ended up bringing the massive, high prey drive dog into the yard with this poor little cairn terrier, realized what she did once she saw the little dog, but this massive dog was so strong that it pulled her across the yard and managed to bite the little dog. miraculously this dog only suffered one (deep as hell) puncture wound, and was able to be treated at a pet hospital.

we were both called in to the office and fired that day (actually dont know if other girl was fired) despite the clear cascade of events leading up to the incident. they just wanted to cover their asses to make nice with the client who's dog they almost got killed. it was a bad mistake! but all management systems fail, and human error is very real. and no one should be punished for shit like that when it's clearly a fault with the system in place. im still salty about it btw.

oh yeah! i was also only paid 10 dollars an hour for this job!

moral of the story is I'm never trusting any dog kennel ever with any of my dogs lmao

[mymadmedleyw]

Based on @sailor-toni ‘s ‘Phandom Author Introduction‘

“I want to meet more Phandom authors/writers so I made this introduction form for people to use. Once you're done reading make your own and tag me in it.”

(also @pennerjones tagged me in it, so I am doing this finally... :D)

---

Name: Allison or Alice

Cat or dog person: I tolerate(d) only my pets - but actually I think I am neither

Favorite Fic from the Phandom: Deliverance from @thelightningstreak

Favorite character from the show: depends, but I think my all-time favourite free-time activity is to explore Dan - I do not talk about that episode though, I hate it as much as I love it, blame the poor logic in that

Favorite genre to write: Angst (seriously I can’t even do Fluff without Angst)

Current Wips: huh... (I’ll write some as series, because it is easier that way)

- What The Past Holds (only the epilogue is missing; Dan-redemption focused)

- Green and Gold (series; in what Dan and Dani, as siblings, are trying to start living a normal life)

- fate written in the sky (series; DarkAges story, ‘Human’ AU - in a way no one would have imagined anyone would write them - fyi: I do)

- My daughter, my perfect base (multi-chaptered work; I’m adding it here because I am considering to continue working on it again; Dani’s creation)

- Lightness of Dark (soon... DarkGray once it’ll be)

- death and death again, clockwise (Human AU, entirely else intake on DA or on DP world, hard to define)

Link the story you are the proudest of: WTPH (even though, it requires a bit of editing but that’s my child, growing up to so big by now...)

Share a small part of that story: (I couldn’t choose from WTPH, so then instead, here is a snippet from my InvisoBang story - Down The Rabbit Hole)

“How… how did she get down here?” Mom stuttered a minute later like a stuck-in cassette tape, looking like she had seen a ghost.

Dad slightly lifted his head, clicking some buttons and cautiously checking the swirling in the wall after each movement – as if refusing to take his eyes off it, fearing to miss its reaction. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, voice rough with anger and frustration.

“But…” Mom stammered, and then her vision shifted toward the green water in the wall, consciousness returning to her expressions. She awed, gaped. “It’s sentient… The other realm is sentient, and it’s reactive to nearing...”

“Madeline!” Dad’s warning reached the woman before she could have made a step ahead.

Even if her father stopped her mother, it couldn’t cease the reeling in Dani’s mind. She stared at the greenness a few feet away from her. It moved in a stir. The vibrant colour shades like tendrils shifted into the other in a scale, from the brightest translucence to the darkest emerald. She felt the longer she looked at it, the more her eyes reflected the colour, and in response, the more the hues changed their ways and slipped toward her.

Dani had no idea what her Mom had meant by “reactive”, but she didn’t wish to figure it out. Slipping her legs on the floor, Dani tried to get away – even though it seemed impossible and her mind deeply blended into the sight of the dizzying view.

Something, like a sick siren song, told her that it was a part of her and that she belonged inside. The more Dani forced her mind to get away, the more it shrieked at her growing distance, inch by inch. Dani wondered whether she even managed to move away from it or instead, towards it.

It was a mad game – Dani could at least grasp that – like trying to escape from the inevitable. She felt weightless against it, light-headed like after having her blood drawn…

No – she internally shook her head – for real, she felt every cell in her body (if it was possible to describe such a thing), floaty and lightweight. Scared, Dani looked at herself, confused, mind skipping the next thought at the sight that her fingers seemed to glow.

---

Tag your Favorite authors in the Phandom: beyond the ones who were already tagged by others (and beyond the author of my favourite collection-writer, I’m adding here the ones whose fics I really enjoy reading) @dp-marvel94 @skellagirl @jadenoryuu @danny-phantom-writings @mistical52 @asjjohnson

[simping-for-kamski]

Such pretty art!!! It's the kind of ending I'd love for this ficlet ♥ w ♥ (also on Ao3)

A Match Made in Mistakes

They lived in Carl’s house, which was now Leo’s house, and they waited—Connor and Leo—for Markus to come home. But Markus wasn’t coming home, because without Carl, the place was just a house, and Markus had found a home in Jericho, in his people. Connor and Leo didn’t know that, but they were starting to fathom it, fathom that if they wanted to talk to Markus, they would have to seek him out.

It’d been well over four months now, and Detroit’s population counted more androids than humans. Leo wasn’t thinking of moving out, and neither did Connor, although there was a different house he could have moved in. He’d gone there only once, to collect the body in the kitchen, and bury it in the garden. He’d collected a big dog too. They had him for a week, maybe. Beast was old and sad. Leo helped Connor to lay him to rest and steeled himself when he held the android, rubbed his back and repeated, again and again, “It’s not your fault…”

Connor felt guilty anyway. Leo felt just as shitty in that department. He’d first come to Carl’s irrationally hoping… he wasn’t sure what. That his father would be there? That Markus would be there? Instead, he’d found Connor, and it felt like some kind of sign, because Connor too had been on the wrong side of everything, and if Leo could mend things for him…

Over the months past, he’d taught himself about android tech and dug his hands at the insides of the RK800 Connor had showed up with that snowy November morning. Connor said that reactivation was impossible—impossible? Like androids gaining sapience? Well, Leo was no Elijah Kamski, and it was probably arrogant of him to think he could succeed, but he had nothing better to do, and trying to fix Connor’s dead twin felt like an easier challenge than to reach out to Markus to apologize.

Leo feared a repeat of that day he met Markus in the graveyard and couldn’t say a word to him. And so he thought, if he could come to Markus with a proof of what he meant to say… maybe things would be different this time. And he couldn’t simply ask Connor—the living one—to come along, vouch for him, because that Connor had never met Markus. That Connor had killed the Connor who had fought alongside Markus, the one Markus trusted.

If Leo could fix Connor-56, it would fix everything.

His hands were blue with thirium when he noticed the way Connor-60 was looking at him from the workshop’s threshold. He had a weak smile on his lips, and a little ripple in his eyebrows, just under that rebellious curl.

“It’s not going to work, Leo,” he said. “Why do you keep on trying?”

“I can’t give up. I can’t. Not now when I’ve come so far,” Leo answered. He was aware that he sounded a bit crazed. He sniffed and rubbed his nose, staining it with thirium and spreading more blue as he tried to rub it off, before drying his hands on his t-shirt—the substance would evaporate.

“You’re going to get another nosebleed,” Connor said and came over to wipe the blue off Leo’s face with his fingers. He licked them clean, groomed Leo some more.

The touch was both annoying and soothing. “I’m fine, Conn.”

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be obsessing over a corpse and getting high on thirium vapors,” Connor retorted. His tone was soft, though.

“I’m not…!” Leo couldn’t deny it further. He was. He knew Connor was right, he just couldn’t accept it.

“Even if you could bring him back, it won’t bring your father back, Leo. We need to move on.”

“But you need your brother…” Leo argued weakly. “He’s the only one who can truly understand you and guide you through deviancy—”

“I said that, yes… But I was wrong.” Connor held Leo’s face and looked into his eyes. There was so much life reflected in his own. “You did all that just fine, Leo. All those hours you spent listening to me, holding my hand, simply… being there…”

Leo sniffed. There was an itch in his nose. Maybe he was going to get another nosebleed after all. A slanted smile formed on his lips as he sustained Connor’s tender gaze, letting its warmth comfort him, and there it was again, this silent understanding between them. Two men who fucked up to a lethal extent and lost what was dearest to them.

Leo wrapped his arms around Connor to hug him as he had so many times before, but instead of letting him lay his head against his chest, Connor held Leo’s face up and leaned down. Their nose tips touched like a spell that made Leo’s heart beat faster and shifted the hue of Connor’s LED to a bright red. Time turned liminal and hot, slow and slippery amidst the vulnerability of surprise and want. It was prompts, it was choices, and Leo made the choice to meet Connor’s lips and kiss them. They opened and it was the taste of thirium, the taste of iron as the red liquid leaked over Leo’s mouth and found its way into the kiss.

Leo was breathless as their lips parted. “Shit…” he muttered and tried to rub his nose, but Connor pulled at his hair to tilt his head backwards.

“You don’t need to tell me I was right,” he nagged him, clocking into their usual dynamic, only, there was something more to it now. “Keep your head that way,” he ordered and slinked away to grab a cotton bud from the pharmacy box.

Leo obeyed, cheeks blushed. “You’re always right.”

“I’m not, and being right’s not the point. I thought the mission was everything. I thought failure was unacceptable. But now I know better,” Connor said as he returned with a white bud to shove into Leo’s nose before allowing him to move his head again. “I’ve found my bearings with you. I felt broken and now I… I feel like it’s okay to have jagged edges, because mine fit with yours, and so I’m not alone. You make me feel like I belong,” he confessed, fingertips fleeting about Leo’s face, painting a smile there.

Leo felt like he’d been running his entire life and finally came to a stop, a break. Was it a paradox to feel like all that was broken in him seemed to be finding its place and mending itself?

“It’s time,” Connor said, combing his fingers through the tangle of Leo’s hair. “Let’s find your brother and lay mine to rest. Even if Markus doesn’t forgive us, we’ve lived without his forgiveness for all this time. I think we’ll manage.”

Leo quits red-ice and slowly feels safe enough to admit to his wrongs and atone for them.

[kim-poce]

14 for Little One?

Unusual

14: make my muse listen to loud, high-pitched noises

mean, you are mean! Thank you for the ask :)

CW: pet whump, Institutionalized slavery, multiple whumpees, implied past torture, blood, barbed wire, screams.

Full House - Masterlist

======

Usually, only he is hurt, well, the only one hurt beyond the level of a normal punishment, but this is usually.

When the door slammed open again he curled on himself, eyes shut, but instead of someone coming towards him all he heard was a weak thud followed by a groan and the door closing again.

He dared to open his eyes, it was one of the guard dogs, the bigger one, he was bleeding, he was bleeding so much, the few seconds Little One glanced at him was enough.

"Shhh", the other gaud dog said, "I'll take it out, o-"

"no! n-no p-p-please", he begged desperately, he barely had voice to do so.

He needs to, Little One thought.

"I need to", the guard dog said.

Little One kept his eyes shut the whole time, he tried to cover his ears too but his hands were too hurt to be helpful.

The guard dog screamed, he screamed so much, high-pitched desperate screams, Little One hugged itself, trying to vanish, trying to pretend he was not there, but it didn't work.

The screams only stopped when he passed out, and for a while, Little One could hear the sound of the barbed wire being pulled from the guard dog's flesh, and the screams again, each time weaker than before.

Neither of them slept that night.

======

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whump-blog, @wolfeyedwitch, @octopus-reactivated, @sufferfictionalcharacters, @rat-father, @badluck990, @onlybadendings, @inpainandsuffering, @mazeish, @neuro-whump, @freefallingup13, @sideblogformindtrash, @temporary-username, @jadeocean46910, @physicsfibber, @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @neverthelass, @pumpkin-spice-whump

[animalhumanemn]

I brought Gertrude (then Esper) home the day after losing my service dog, Rosie, who I had gotten from AHS just five years prior. It was a very unexpected passing, but with all things, there was a silver lining: Gertrude. Losing a service dog is really, really difficult to adjust to, and while Gertrude will not ever be a service dog, having another animal to bond with was crucial for me. After learning about Gertrude's history, I thought we'd make a good match. She is 6, had been in and out of shelters, and didn't seem to have a lot of stability in her life. My world had just broken entirely. I thought maybe we could work towards stability, together. There were, of course, setbacks. Though I work as a trainer and have had dogs my whole life, adopting an adult dog brought some quirks with it. While she challenges me to learn more, I'm grateful for the lessons she is teaching me. For example, being a shepherd mix, she's really, really mouthy, and quite sensitive to her environment. She has separation anxiety. These are things I'm still learning to work with. On the flip side, she's very easygoing at home, and really cuddly. In fact, I decided to adopt her after seeing how easily she settled, even in the stressful shelter environment. She's come a long way, and while she is still reactive, and still has (mild) separation anxiety, her handler focus has improved tremendously, and her trust in me has. When she first came home, she followed me like a shadow- she was unsure of the situation and unsure of herself. Now she does it because she's convinced I'll reward her (and I usually do). It's amazing what some structure, time, and positive reinforcement will do. No dog could ever replace Rosie, and I would never want them to. I fully believe that each animal we get to interact with is here to teach something. Gertrude is improving my skills as a trainer and teaching me to deal with grief. She's teaching me to rest more, and how to re-prioritize when necessary. Neither of us is perfect, but I actually have no interest in perfect. I just want us to be happy, and judging by her post-training snores as I type this, I'd say we're doing just fine

— Max

[the-long-legs-project]

The air is alternately hot and cold

The air is alternately hot and cold. This land was recently burned and what trees there were are now mostly skeletons sticking out of the ground, fractured, limbs askew.

We passed a herd of wild horses, grazing all around the road and in the road. I hear the elk bleating at night; I hear the crows echo among the rocks. There’s the occasional whistle I can’t place, sometimes it sounds like a moan or a howl so I assume it’s a coyote. The dog eats things that I can’t name, chases after crows. She’s happier here than in town. I’m happier here than in town.

We saw a mountain lion today, or at least I did, or at least I think so. She was brown and she ran away down the trail and then she turned and looked at us and I saw her tail twitching back and forth like my old house cat, and I knew we were in danger because my house cat would have eaten me if she had been big enough. I looked away, and then looked back, and she was gone. I held the dog tightly on the leash, thankful, not for the first time on this trip, that she’s reactive and she barks at things she doesn’t know. I walked past where I last saw the lion, fully aware I was being watched from a spot I would never see her, my only plan to drop the dog and pull out my knife.

I had no idea grief could be like this. I have lost people before, felt the air go out from my lungs at odd times, in places I would never have anticipated. Not like this though, never like this.

Maybe it gets less intense the more times it happens, or maybe you’re just supposed to get better at dealing with it. But I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams. It’s golden hour, the most beautiful light of the day, her favorite time of day. Maybe tomorrow the angle of the light on the atmosphere won’t hurt. I don’t want there to be a moment when it doesn’t hurt.

I know how to find a spot that takes your breath away and put a tent there. But if she was here she would have already come up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. She would have tucked her chin into the crook of my shoulder. She would not have said a word.

There’s wild horses grazing in the distance and my dog is asleep at my feet. I can hear the horses snorting at each other on the hilltop adjacent to mine.

She would have found some flowers and a stone and put them on the table. She would have tried to sneak the stone into the car and we would have had that same laughing disagreement about how we should not remove things from public lands and she would say it’s just one stone and anyways this land belongs to the indigenous people and not “the public.”

I miss the way she moved around me. I miss the way she smelled. I miss the way she would reach for my hand when she saw something beautiful. I miss everything. I miss everything.

There were no horses on the other mountain in the morning. I couldn’t find them from the road. My dog is asleep beside me. Neither of us are happier in town.

[jeks-tgs]

For what it's worth I'd love to read anything you write for ur A/B/O AU! I really agree w ur view on it and finding fics that have that concept that world-build rather than JUST being raunchy & fetish-y is so rare.

I'm finally answering this it's been so long I'm so sorry BUT!! Firstly, thank you, it means alot to me! Secondly, would some backstory exposition count as writing for my ABO AU? /j

Content Warning: Discussions of non-con, trafficking, dog-fighting (but with humans), abuse (physical and sexual), child abuse, and pedophilia. This is a very dark AU that tackles alot of heavy topics, with the main themes being about trauma, mental health, discrimination, and consent. Please don't read anything under the tags 'Jeks ABO AU' or 'Two Makes A Mischief AU' if darker stories could possibly harm you. Stay safe.

So, for my AU I wanted to tackle a lot of heavier topics, and part of that is shown in Jekyll and Hyde's backstory. See, having Jekyll have so many secrets in this AU already, throwing Hyde on top of it all seemed too much. Instead, I made them close friends with a shared traumatic childhood. They were both born in a brothel/fighting ring in Glasgow, belonging to the company The Red Rat. Part of the business revolves around the trafficking and breeding of Omegas, for pleasure, and Betas, for entertainment.

Hyde was bred in the fighting litters, born to a Beta mother and Beta father. He was the runt of his litter, and surprisingly an Omega, but his rough characteristics and personality kept him in the rings rather than being brought to the brothel segment of the building. He quickly gained infamy amongst those who bet on the fights for his temper and ability to survive in the rings. He was referred to as 'Red' due to how bloodied his throat often got during matches.

Jekyll was born to an Omega mother and Alpha father, one of the rich men from London who frequently visited the brothel and paid extra in order to actually sire a litter. Jekyll was the only Omega in the litter, and was seperated from his mother shortly after, being cared for by the Spider's, the owner of the Red Rat, Beta staff. Most often, the Red Rat held the policy that an Omega was off limits until their first heat, but Spider saw Henry as 'the perfect Omega' since he matched Spider's personal prefences, and Spider abused him when he was very young. He was given the derogatory name 'Easy' because he 'didn't put up much of a fight'.

The two met when Hyde managed to sneak into the brothel in an attempt to get actual food rather than moldy scraps, and ran into Jekyll, trying to get some food as well. The two continued to meet in secret, becoming close friends. One day, during one of their meetings, a rival brothel company/gang broke in. During the chaos that ensued, Hyde grabbed Jekyll and made a break for it. The two proceeded to live as street urchins for a long time, stealing to survive and hiding their scents as best they could. Hyde managed to pass himself off as a Beta due to his scent being rather earthy, not common in Omegas, but Jekyll's peppermint scent made it so he had to spend most of his time hiding, relying on Hyde to bring him food.

As time went on, Hyde set up a bit of a barter system with some local school children around their age, giving them stolen goodies or fighting their bullies in exchange for learning what they were taught and textbooks, which he then taught to Jekyll. This continued until the school teacher learnt from her students about the odd little boy, and she followed him to where he and Jekyll lived in a broken down pub. She started leaving food and clothes for them, and eventually set a trap feral kitten style to get both boys to her home to take care of them.

She, being an Omega herself, understood how hard it was for both of them, and helped as best she could to cover Jekyll's scent better, actually using a peppermint cologne to make his scent seem false. While Jekyll took her last name eventually, Hyde chose his own last name, partially because he didn't want the Omega who'd raised them to be connected to him legally in case he got arrested, but also because he and Jekyll had a pretty strong 'we're not dating but yeah we are' kinda relationship at that point and neither wanted to be adopted siblings because gross. (Though both did accept the first names she gave them to replace their Rat-given names.)

Hyde's time in the rings had left him not knowing how to interact with others, being more prone to lashing out when feeling threatened. Hyde suffers from reactive aggression, which is an actual diagnosis in humans, as I've recently found out, though more commonly you might hear it being used for reactive dogs. Jekyll, on the other hand, has a made up disorder called Feral Omega Disorder, as well as Sporatic Heat Syndrome. His years of physical and sexual abuse, especially before his first heat, has left his 'Omega state' (one's Status-driven mindset, influenced by instinct over logic) more 'feral' and animalistic in nature, and his body suffers from sporatic, intense heats spaced farther apart rather than regular, normal heats.

Jekyll and Hyde both went to the same college in London under the guise of being Betas, though much to their distress Jekyll was roomed with an Alpha, Robert Lanyon. The two became close friends though, and after graduating formed the Society, with Hyde working alongside Jekyll as his personal assistant. Sadly, during college Jekyll had become involved an abusive Alpha named Morcant, would one day vanish on a 'business trip', only to return nine months later at Hyde's house in the dead of night, shaking and terrified and holding four little pups in his arms, which is where the actual story begins.

[belorage]

Wes for the full clear on the OC asks? 😘😘😘

— OC QUESTIONS

BASICS

What’s their full name? Wesley Daniel Brooks

What does their name mean? Why were they named that? Wesley means “western meadow,” Daniel means “God is my judge,” and Brooks means “stream.” You can find my real world reasoning for choosing his name here. As for the canon reasoning, Wesley is a family name on his father’s side and Daniel is a good Christian name. 

Do they have any nicknames? Lots. Wes is the big one (Hwes if you’re Hurk Jr.), Rook, Dep (Deputy if you're as extra as John Seed), Bright Eyes (Raf only), Sundance (Nick only), Darling (Lyra, when she’s being cheeky), and probably a handful more that I’m forgetting.

How old are they? 28, almost 29 as of the start of FC5.

When’s their birthday? November 11, 1989

What’s their zodiac sign/element/birthstone/etc.? Do they believe that holds any significance? Scorpio sun, Aries moon, Aquarius rising. Year of the snake. Birthstones are topaz and citrine. He isn’t aware enough of any of this to believe in it.

What’s their species/subspecies? Do they have any special/magical abilities? He is a natural disaster in human form. His special ability is that he somehow manages to survive that for as long as he does.

What “class” do they belong to (for fantasy characters)? If none, what weapon do they favor? A revolver (Steel & Ivory), a sawed-off shotgun (Sin Eater), or basic hand-to-hand. Close combat is preferable to range. He also uses homemade C4 in his tireless crusade against cult infrastructure.

APPEARANCE

What do they look like? He’s 6′3″, has brown-ish hair (specifically, a warm golden bronze color) and hazel eyes with long eyelashes. Fit, moderate-to-lean build. Sharp features, angular jaw, a pronounced Cupid’s bow. He has the facial hair of a man who has forgotten to shave for two weeks, because he is—you guessed it—a man who has forgotten to shave for two weeks.

Do they have a face claim? Tomas Skoloudik

What’s their style like? Clothes, hair, makeup? Casual clothing—flannels (often tied around the waist), t-shirts, henleys, jeans, boots, jewelry (gold, leather), leather jacket, cargo jacket. His hair is messy and soft, just like he is, because he doesn’t overload it with hair products unlike some people. He’s got an ouroboros tattooed around the lower part of his right forearm and (universe-dependent) John and Lyra’s names on the inside of his wrists.

How do they carry themselves? What’s their default expression? He attempts to project swagger and indifference, but to anyone who knows him and is paying attention, he’s an open book. In a comfortable environment, he’s loose and casual. His default expression is fixated if he has something to occupy his mind and distant if he doesn’t.

Do they have any physical ailments or disabilities? No, but he’s got bruises and flesh wounds aplenty! He’s got bite marks and scratches galore! You want knife-slashing scars? He’s got twenty. But who cares? No big deal. Wes wants mooooore! 🎵

PERSONALITY

What’s their alignment? Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Which one of the 16 Personality Types do they fit into? ISFP

What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)? I answered for his favorite films and TV here, and his favorite book is Watership Down. He likes the Beatles and bar snacks and black coffee. His favorite cultists are Lyra, John, and Shaggy—please don’t judge him.

What are they bad at? Dancing!

What kind of things do they dislike/hate? Hates being controlled, dislikes very sweet things.

Do they have any vices/addictions/mental illnesses? Impulsiveness, reactive behaviors. He smokes and drinks, although neither of those are done with a shocking amount of excess. Previously, harder drugs. 

What are their goals and motivations? Freedom and acceptance.

What are their manners like? Any habits? He’s not a jerk; he has passable manners when the situation calls for them, but Emily Post would like him not. His habits are covered in much more detail here, but the big one is that he tends to busy his hands and/or mouth with things wherever possible.

What are they most afraid of? Rejection, abandonment, enclosed spaces, death (specifically, the possibility of an afterlife). 

BACKGROUND

Where were they born? What was their childhood like? Born in Hope County. He was an only child and his home life was suspect, but made moderately more bearable by his best friend. Once he realized trying to please his father was a losing battle, he said hell yeah to a downward spiral of rebelliousness and troublemaking.

What’s their family like? His dad was a jerk of the sort that would never be satisfied. Big on toxic masculinity, short on acceptance. His mother loved him, but she fell in line more often than not.

What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold? Hope County Sheriff’s Office (probationary sheriff’s deputy), Hope County Resistance (figurehead, pot stirrer, problem magnet). 

How do they fit into their “story”? Barely. Next question. I hate to use this word yet again, but it’s the only one that fits: his story is mostly about acceptance—self, fate, fault, sorrow, joy—because as much as he desired acceptance from others, he denied a lot of it for himself.

Where do they currently live? What’s their place like? He grew up in the Silver Lake trailer park, way up on the northeastern end of Holland Valley, near the Whitetails. For the duration of the game timeline, I picture him spending more time crashing where he can—with the Ryes, in the woods, wherever—but his own place would be sparse and fairly untidy, with clothes tossed everywhere. 

How do they eventually die? Wesley intends to live forever. How dare you insinuate—

RELATIONSHIPS

Do they have any friends? Would they consider anyone to be their best friend? Within the timeline of the game, he has quite a few. Raf is his best friend (and has been since they were kids), but Nick (and Kim) are both up there. He has a soft spot for Mary May; that seems to be reciprocal. He appreciates Grace because she doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. Sharky and Hurk offer unconditional friendship, which he appreciates and sorely needs. Adelaide is the vodka aunt who thirsts after his ex. She tries to rile him up sometimes (in a myriad of ways), but he likes her. And if you account for other universes, his friend count goes way up thanks to the various and sundry brat squad kids.

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it? When he was younger, he was the introvert-adopted-by-an-extrovert. He was a bit too withdrawn to have friends outside of that, though he wasn’t unfriendly. For a bulk of the current timeline, his friend group is “ragtag misfits” status and he basically gets ping-ponged between them as they try—with varying amounts of success—to fight a cult.  

What’s their love life like? (See also: ship question meme.) Do they have any kids? Depends on the universe. In canon, it’s messy but becomes significantly healthier later on. His previous relationship was promising and likely would have been ideal, except that they were young and unable (or unready) to deal with the realities of their situation. In AU, he is enemies-with-benefits but also grossly in love with the Judge of Eden’s Gate and her husband (who was a fun surprise, but it’s fine, because Wes got Lyra back by giving her a gracious two-for-one deal on children)!

Who do they look up to? Who do they trust? Whitehorse is something of a father figure, though Wes would never say that out loud. For the record, neither would Whitehorse (at least not directly to Wes)—mostly for Wes’s benefit. He trusts Raf, Pastor Jerome, and the rest of his friends listed above.

Who do they hate? Do they have any enemies? Joseph, because Joseph is daddy issues incarnate. Jacob, because Jacob understands Wes well enough to yank him around like a dog on a leash. By the time the Collapse hits, everyone is his enemy to some extent (as evidenced by the adorable horns and pointy tails drawn all over his wanted posters). Notable exceptions are John, Sharky, Hurk, and Whitehorse; however, all but the first are functionally unknown to him.

Do they have any pets? Just Boomer, who is the best emotional support animal a disaster could ask for.

Are they good with kids? Animals? He’s naturally good with both children and animals, but he lacks practical experience, especially with the former (shout-out to the Ryes for finally adding that to his resume).

FUN FACTS

Which tropes do they fit? Which archetypes? Tropewise, he’s Troubled, but Cute and I can’t refute it; apart from the high school thing, it’s a full BINGO clear. He’s also Bruiser with a Soft Center, Inferiority Superiority Complex, Cosmic Plaything, Desperately Craves Affection, Hero with Bad Publicity, I Am Not My Father, and almost certainly a whole host of shameful others that I don’t dare brave the rest of TVTropes to find. Of the twelve classic archetypes, he’s some combination of The Hero and The Outlaw. Otherwise: fallen angel, antihero, byronic hero, prodigal son. 

Do they play any instruments? Sports? He can play guitar, but only at an intermediate level. He’s not big on sports, but he can ice skate and he likes to swim.

What are some items they always carry? Steel & Ivory and a lighter; later, Sin Eater. In New Dawn he carries John’s watch.

Do they collect anything? Bad decisions. Minicultists, apparently. Nothing in particular.

What position do they sleep in? His default position when he’s alone and in a comfortable place is on his belly. There are exceptions listed in greater detail here.

Which emoji would they use the most? Honestly, he’s not really the type to use emojis, but he will send his love interest pictures of things he likes or finds pretty with no context. Otherwise, his texts tend to be short, to-the-point, and lacking in punctuation or capitalization. Believe it or not, he’d much rather communicate in person. My most frequently used emojis for him are 🍰 and 🐍. (Awww, cake and snake... They rhyme. How precious!)

What languages do they speak? English. He knows a limited amount of Spanish, but he’s better at understanding it than he is at speaking it.

What’s their favorite expletive? Damn or fuck.

What’s their favorite candle scent? Pine.

What songs remind you of them? I have a playlist for him here, but it—much like him—is a bit of a mess. I also have a playlist based on his own taste in music here.

Which animal would you say represents them? Snakes, stags, swans, scorpions.

What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into? Loners or troublemakers, probably. Stoners on a technicality—he doesn’t fit the stereotype, but he does have a history. He has some of the soul of an art kid but, tragically, none of the talent.

What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be? At a real amusement park, probably the roller coasters. At something more lowkey like a carnival, he’d like the classic, aesthetically pleasing rides like the Ferris wheel or the carousel.

Do they believe in aliens? Ghosts? Reincarnation or something else? He’s not an “I Want to Believe” sort of guy, but he still can’t explain the Larry Parker debacle. He tries very hard not to believe (or at least not to think about) any sort of afterlife, because he fears it.

Do they follow any religions/gods? Do they celebrate holidays? His family was Catholic, but he endeavors not to be. He likely wouldn’t celebrate holidays as a bachelor overmuch, but he would take part in holiday activities with others.

Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue? Pride and Fortitude.

If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, which would it be? The Tower, The Devil, The Wheel of Fortune.

[animemeg27]

I feel like I complain a lot about work on twitter so I’ma rant here for a change so I’m not so negative in one space, but honestly depending on how my work’s new owners deal with this situation, I’m genuinely considering looking for a new job next month..

I was just on the phone with one of the new owners and I actually broke down crying a bit...

lemme explain the situation

It’s a friday, it’s lunch time, it’s hot out, that morning a fight broke out between dogs because dog A wants to fence fight with dog B whenever he walks by, dog B is chill but will defend himself so he fence fights back. Dog C is in the same yard as Dog A and because dog A is reacting aggressively, dog C wants to join in and the only dog he can get to is dog A. All 3 dogs are of large strong breeds so obviously sometimes they can be a handful if they get out of control. Asshole coworker is in the yard with the fighting dogs and luckily had them on leash so he had them both at arms length and dragged them away from the fence. Doggy Day Kamp manager in my yard with dog B goes over to Asshole’s yard to help keep them two apart as the Asshole’s hand got bit and is bleeding. The dogs are never put away, but are kept on leash until they’re calm enough the Asshole finally goes to wash his hand. The Manager keeps the leash on the instigator, dog A, and soon the dogs in that yard are moved away into the backyard so they don’t see dog B and start another fight.

I personally don’t know why the hell dogs A and B were in yards next to each other when I’m pretty sure it was established awhile ago that dog A hates dog B. But the Asshole has a superiority/dog trainer complex when he is neither of those things so I wouldn’t put it past him if it was his idea.

Couple hours later Assistant manager comes in for her shift and hears about the fight. She tells the Asshole “hey next time put the dogs away when they fight so they can calm down” cuz ya know, that’s standard protocol. It’s dangerous to have em still out because the aggressive energy can build up again with other reactive dogs still in the yard that could still be anxious from the fight that just happened. A fight broke out literally a week prior and SHE had her hand bitten and that same dog C was involved and he was put away. That time all dogs were going after one in the yard and many of the dogs were ok in doing so because dog C was in on it and riling everyone up. Ya know what the asshole says? “that’s not gonna do anything they’re not children putting them in time out won’t teach them anything” completely ignoring her who’s been here at least as long as I have aka 7 years while he’s hardly been here more than half a year. Like um they ain’t human either they’re dogs aka animals so they can be kind of unpredictable when they are in such a reactive state. The assistant manager is just as sick of him as I am and scoffs but doesn’t have the energy to argue. The asshole had really been pissing her off lately by kind of bossing her around out of nowhere when the manager had been on vacation earlier in the month.

few hours later it’s lunch time, and this is where shit goes down... kinda literally. Asshole leaves for lunch. Or so I thought. We were in the same yard and he left through one of the side pens, but he found a missed pile of dog poop in there so he decides to pick it up himself. Ok whatever. He leaves the gate open a bit and a little dog slips through. he picks him up and puts him back in the main yard, I come over and close the gate over so he can hurry and pick up the poop and head to lunch. He tells me to leave it open because the dogs won’t learn anything if I close it. like dude it’s just poop, so I kept the gate shut. granted I didn’t say anything, but my logic was who the hell wants to spend and extra 5-10 minutes dealing with dogs trying to slip through a gate depending on which dogs come over just to pick up poop instead of wanting to head to lunch as soon as possible. So he says something along the lines of “what is wrong with you” or “what is your problem” to which I simply responded with “Just go to lunch, I’ll take care of it.” My patience with him was thin already but at this point it was just gone. This asshole is so obsessed with teaching dogs in general but also not to slip through gates that he always get so angry, or at least really annoyed and pissed off at me whenever I try to help holding dogs back, like I was taught to do, especially ones that are more difficult - ones that are strong or speedy and don’t sit still and take every opportunity to slip through the gate. like it’s understandable to try and teach them, but it can be a long process, especially with the more difficult ones. No one really has time for that when we’re busy or need to be someplace. In the end he just picked up the poop while I had the gate shut. When he left for lunch for real he said “I’d suggest you don’t get on my bad side” to which all I had to say to him was “really?????” like he hadn’t been on my bad side for at least the past 6 months. I can’t remember if he mumbled something under his breath but my last words to him as he left were “you’re not the manager”

now up until this point, I didn’t realize my heart was racing. like  “I’d suggest you don’t get on my bad side” like what the fuck is that supposed to mean???? Honestly he’s got such a shit personality I wouldn’t put it past him to actually do something threatening. So I put in a request from July onward to never work with him ever again. I never mentioned anything that happened because I had actually grown nervous of having him confronted and I wanted to wait for things to theoretically cool down before I said anything. I wrote a solid list of 10 reasons why I can’t stand him anymore if I was ever asked about my request in preparation.

Unknown to me at the time, the Assistant manager who had been in the next yard over had heard the threat he said to me and confronted him with one of the new owners about it and he actually got a serious scolding. So a couple days later when my request was received and the Kennel manager wanted to talk to me, I was surprised to learn they already knew the story and wanted to confirm that that was why I had made such a request as the kennel manager knew I’d never do something like that unless it was serious. We talked a bit and the owner that had scolded the ass was there and was reassuring me that they were on my side and even THEY didn’t really like him and there was talk of potentially firing him and the owner asked if I wanted an apology and I said “sure” but I doubt it would ever be serious or genuine and it’s not like I’d forgive him or be ok working with him again.

I was hoping he’d be fired, but unfortunately we’re only hiring teenagers with no work experience atm instead of people who know what they’re doing in the kennels or around dogs so if he were to be let go it’d be a while before he can be officially replaced. And the owners have made it clear as much as they don’t like him or his methods, there is a sense of a little more control in the day kamp yards. Anyway, because people’s shifts are all over the place it’s difficult to properly set aside a time to really discuss things. They’re trying their best to “knock him down a peg or two” to get him to better respect his coworkers and what not. I dunno how that’s going cuz I do my best to not engage with him and be in a separate yard as much as possible.

Anyway, it’s been like a week, it’s the last week of the scheduled month, next months schedule will be coming out in a day or so, and the other new owner called me to talk about how we’re gonna deal with next month. On monday we briefly talked... while the asshole was still in the other yard?? about the situation and whether or not I was comfortable talking with him to work things out so there’s no miscommunication because the assistant manager and the ass were I guess able to work something out. Whether or not he actually listens to her from now on would be interesting to see, but I’m standing my ground on the fact that I’m putting up with him for the last assigned week of the month, then I want nothing to do with him ever again. I gave a quick “no” to talking with him. The new owner said we can continue the talk about the situation the next day. Yesterday rolls around and obviously we’re busy and there’s no time for that.

So today the new owner called. Reiterating how much of an asset I am up in day kamp, and how much they still need the asshole, and if there’s any chance I might still work up there and talk it out with him. This is were I start tearing up and choking up. I told her “it’s just been slowly building up over the past several months and that was the last straw” and “sorry, no”. She reassured me she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable or upset or force me to do something I didn’t feel comfortable doing, and understood the ass was, well, an ass to me and had no respect for me or my other coworkers. She revealed that apparently the ass interpreted me holding the gate closed was an “act of disrespect” towards him when she understood that was ridiculous as she knew closing a gate so dogs don’t escape is what you’re supposed to do. as if and “act of disrespect” gives him the right to casually threaten someone. Like I don’t even care if he was having a bad day getting his hand bitten, you’re bringing that bs on yourself. She said he wants to apologize and I dunno how true that actually is or if he’s just been guilted into it, but again I said an apology would be nice but it won’t change the way I feel about him. Anyway she said she’d like to talk to me again tomorrow when I’m in work cuz I forgot to mention I had off today and that’s why I received a call, cuz by that time I’ve got tears and snot running down my face like a fool lol I’m glad it wasn’t in person.

But also I never told my parents about this and my work doesn’t have my cell number only my home number so it was my dad who answered and handed me the phone and I talked to the owner in my room so no one would hear. But with my face as it was it was clear I’d been crying, but I hadn’t scrubbed my face or gotten dressed yet so I took that as the perfect excuse to hide my red eyes before returning the phone downstairs and taking my own dog for a walk.

But yeah they really want me in day kamp. And I really don’t wanna work with the ass. and the ass only works in day kamp. There was a time where I actually almost prefered day kamp to kennel work, but since the ass was hired that’s quickly reversed. I want to be in the kennel. I’ll do the annoying chores I don’t care. I cannot be anywhere near him. I refuse. The tension and awkwardness is too great, I’ll be too stressed out in day kamp. If they put me in day kamp most of the month, or more than twice a week which even that is a bit of a stretch, I need to look for another job because I cannot do that any more. I really don’t want to leave because I more or less have job security here, they need me, but I cannot come to work and deal with this shit anymore.

we’ll just have to see how next month’s schedule turns out.. :/

[mistbornthefinal]

Madoka Magica Aniversary Analysis: Part 6

Do Not Throw Souls!

We pick up where we left off last episode. Kyouko goes for the kill on Sayaka and Homura moved to action by Madoka’s distress moves to interrupt the fight. Kyouko is confused by this turn of events and tries to hold Homura at spearpoint. Tries being the operative term there. Kyouko identifies Homura as the rumored irregular. Sayaka tries to continue the fight but Homura makes short work of her.

*timestops behind you* nothing personal kid

Kyouko’s fence thing dissolves and Madoka quickly rushes to her stricken friend who Kyubey assures us is merely unconscious. Kyouko as Homura who’s side is she on to which she replies.

“I’m an ally to those who maintain their composures and an enemy to idiotic aggressors. Which are you, Sakura Kyouko.”

The two meguca still standing have a staredown after which Kyouko elects to back off. Homura then chastises Madoka fairly harshly for still being involved. As Homura walks away Kyubey ponders “Akemi homura could you be...” (cue Connect.)

After the credits we’re at the Miki household watching Sayaka cleanse her gem. Kyubey informs here the now full grief seed is dangerous but he’ll take it off her hands cutely catching it on his head before tossing it into a hatch on his back. According to Kyubey if Sayaka is to have any hope standing up to Kyouko she’ll need a bunch more of those. The more magic you use the more you soul gem is tainted, thus if you have surplus Grief Seeds you can use magic more recklessly. 

Sayaka notes that Mami also never had enough Grief Seeds yet she seemed to be able to fight just fine. Mami had the benefit of talent and expertise says Kyubey as does Kyouko. Of course if Sayaka wants to even the odds there’s always Madoka and her vast potential. Surely if Sayaka were to ask her..? Sayaka rejects that answer this is her fight.

Elsewhere Kyouko is tearing it up at the DDR (Dog Drug Reinforcement) machine. Homura has a proposition for her, she’ll leave the city to her so long as Kyouko let’s her solve the Sayaka problem. Kyouko is down for that but she want’s to know what’s in it for Homura.

There’s a bigger threat on the horizon and Homura needs allies to fight it. Once Walpurgisnact is defeated Homura will leave Kyouko to handle Mitakihara’s affairs. Kyouko seems bullish about the two of them being able to handle the legendary Witch and offers to seal their pact with some Pocky (or rather Rocky).

The next day Sayaka and Madoka have returned to the scene of the crime. Unfortunately the Familiar’s trail has gone cold. Madoka wants to try talking it out should the run into Kyouko again but Sayaka reminds her that the two of them were seriously trying to kill each other yesterday, that bridge is burned. Attempted murder aside Sayaka can’t forgive Kyouko’s indifference to human life. She can’t forgive Homura either.

Sayaka was not privy to Mami and Homura’s confronation in EP 3 and Madoka has apparently neglected to tell her. So Sayaka belives that Homura intentionally let Mami die to eliminate the competition. Madoka tries to correct the record but it’s too late for that. 

Sayaka then rather viscously lays into Madoka asking her if she could so easily forgive Kyouko if the Familiar that Kyouko let live out of greed and callousness were to kill one of her family members. As far as Sayaka is concerned any Puella Magi that fails to live up to the image Mami projected is her enemy. Not the wisest course when both the other girls were each able to own her fairly handily.

Madoka asks for Kyubey to bring Sayaka back to reason where she has failed but again the bunnycat claims incapacity. 

That night Madoka is unable to sleep her worries keeping her from rest. She seeks counsel from her mom. Her friend is in a tough situation despite we she is doing not being wrong, rather her attempts to do right seem to make the situation worse. 

Her mom says that unfortunately that’s they way of the world. It sucks but virtue is not always rewarded. Her mom suggest that she instead do the wrong thing for her friend. It might not be the cleanest solution but this is the time in their lives were they can afford to make mistakes. When you’re young it’s easier to pick yourselves back up if you fall. It’s harder when you’re an adult, that’s why adults are allowed to drink.

OK so maybe Junko isn’t the best role model.

 Not the worst advice for you teenage daughter for ordinary problems, but of course Madoka neglects to mention the part where lives are on the line. So it’s hard to blame Junko for how Madoka acts on that advice.

The next day Sayaka rushes to Kyousuke’s hospital room only to find it empty. He’s been discharged already and seems to have neglected to tell her. So Sayaka goes to his house but lingers outside hesitating to ring the bell, and here we see clearly why Sayaka’s wish “failed”. 

As much as Sayaka wanted to see Kyousuke healed for his own sake, she also wanted a relationship with him. That’s all well and good but Kyousuke’s injury was never the thing stopping that from happening, it’s that Sayaka did not have the courage of her convictions to confess. Neither healing Kyouske’s hand nor becoming a magical girl changed that. 

Of course Kyouko is there for her in her hour of need with some free advice. Using magic to help others is a suckers game, what she should do instead is go in there with her shiny new magic and break his arms and legs so he’ll be helpless without her. Kyouko even offers to do it for her as a favor to a fellow magical girl. Needless to say Sayaka isn’t having any of it.

The two of them agree to take their incipient battle elsewhere.

Back at Madoka’s hose our heroine is still mulling over her mothers advice when bunnycat informs her of the immanent duel to the death. Given the travel time involved I’d have to assume this is before Kyouko and Sayaka have their confrontation. So I guess he decided to fetch an innocent bystander rather than tell Sayaka the girl who tried to kill her two days ago was still on her tail. Say it with me everyone bunnycat is a dick.

At the pedestrian bridge that our Megucas have for some reason decided is an inconspicuous place to fight Kyouko shows off her rad transformation sequence. Sayaka is about to do the same when Madoka arrives on the scene. Homura isn’t far behind her as always and she reminds Kyouko of their agreement. This doesn’t actually defuse the conflict. Sayaka is just as willing to fight Homura despite all signs pointing to that being an even lower percentage play. 

So Madoka grabs Sayaka’s Soul Gem and yeets it right off the bridge.

It falls onto a passing truck and despite her visible surprise Homura is after it in an instant. Sayaka asks “what the hell” and then

she collapses like a puppet whose string were cut. Perplexed Kyubey asks why Madoka just threw away her friend. Kyouko rushes over and grabs Sayaka’s body by the neck, and pronounces her dead.

Kyubey explains. After the contract is made the Soul Gem is the “real” magical girl, the girl’s literal soul ripped from their body and bound into a gem. The body is just a puppet a shell animated by magic and if the Soul Gem is more than 100 meters away the link breaks and the body is just a corpse. 

Needless to say neither Madoka nor Kyouko are happy about this revelation. Kyubey claims that it’s to their benefit that they are altered in this way so long as the Soul Gem is intact the body can recover from any injury. Of course it’s hard to imagine he has their best interests at heart given he failed to mention any of this beforehand. The girls are not convinced by the supposed benefits of this arrangement.

Kyubey claims not to understand why this upsets people pegging it to the irrational nature of humanity. Of course once again he knows that this upsets people and then doesn’t tell the before or after they contract. Bunnycat is a dick.

While Kyubey is expositing Homura uses her time powers to catch up to the truck a retrieve Sayaka’s gem. It’s only when she returns her to her bodies hand that she reactivates. Confused at everyone's distress she asks what’s wrong. (cue Magia)

So that was EP 6 it gives us the second of our big shocking revelations. Though the fandom sometimes claims the girls overreact to it I’d say that their reactions are totally appropriate given the context of their friend/frenemy suddenly becoming an empty husk.

This is also the first time we really get to see how alien and amoral Kyubey really is. He claims no understanding of why getting your Soul ripped out might upset someone and understanding that this part of the contract upsets people his solution is to just never mention it. It’s now clear the he’s a malevolent force if it wasn’t already. 

This is also interestingly enough the episode where no Witches or Familiars make an appearance. 

[afterspark-podcast]

(Extra!) Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen: Transcript

Episode

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Into Music]

O: Hi folks, we're back! Thanks for joining us. 

S: So, if we were going to make Revenge of the Fallen better, what would we do (aside from definitely not killing off Jetfire)?

O: Well, first, uh, let's establish some general rules for this thought exercise: The same basic skeleton of the movie must stay intact, since we are trying to fix it not redo it entirely, um, generally, the same characters should be involved but characters could return from the first one instead. Um, I know in the previous movie review we talked about doing it as a tv show or something but for right now let's pretend that the first movie happened as is.

S: Aside from Jazz surviving.

O: Yeah, because killing him off was really dumb and it happened at the end of the movie anyway, so it doesn't really change anything in the first movie.

S: Yep. So, first off: cast change! 

O: Uh, we're gonna remove Devastator, Grindor, Volt, Skids and Mudflap and add returning characters from the first movie, which would be Maggie, Glenn, John Keller, and Blackout by way of- they maybe resurrected him at the same time as Megatron, and Jazz.

S: Yep. Since we've removed Volt, Skids, and Mudflap, we're going to add in Sunstreaker this way we can still exploit the brotherly dynamic that people who are used to G1 would be used to and, you know, using an existing character and relationship dynamic.

O: Right, and Bee's voice box is still intact. He and Sam are actually friends. Sam does not treat him like a fucking dog or some weird possession. 

S: Mm-hmm. He comes with Sam to college because at this point Sam kind of does have a target on his back.

O: Yeah, which I think is fair. The Decepticons are still around, we established that pretty early so, yeah, why not?

S: Yeah, and at this point, I don't know, maybe treat it like Sam’s in, effectively, robot witness protection.

O: Yeah. Optimus does not die at any point in this because it would be completely pointless to the story we're trying to tell.

S: Yeah. Sector Seven has been folded into N.E.S.T. and some major retraining on, uh, how to treat the giant robots, maybe, has happened. Simmons has become significantly less of an asshole after getting to know the Autobots.

O: Or at least we would hope-

S: Yeah.

O: You know, because some mutual respect would probably have been earned since, you know, this movie started. Sector 7 did effectively imprison Megatron for decades successfully. They clearly have knowledge and skills that could be useful for, you know, both finding and capturing the remaining Decepticons.

S: Yeah, I feel like the Autobots would still be a bit skeeved out about some of the things Sector 7 did but-

O: They probably would and I think it would have to be handled really well and hence why Simmons needs to be less of a dick.

S: Yeah, though at this point probably all of the Autobot- let's just go with the whole “war criminals” thing.

O: Yeah.

S: Everyone's done things that they regretted in the war.

O: Mikaela is now training under Ratchet. She knows a lot about machines and showed promise at the end of the first movie so let's actually do something with that.

S: And make it so Sam isn't her only friend because that's sad. Like she has Maggie and Glenn-

O: And the Arcees.

S: Yeah.

O: Uh, Maggie and Glenn are now our two tech oriented people on the team.

S: Yup. Lennox and Epps are functionally in the same roles as the movie-

O: But now John Keller is the head of N.E.S.T. operations instead of some random guy. 

S: Yep. Then Simmons is their information guy and, I mean, actually John Keller- this could be his job after he retires from whatever the hell he was doing.

O: Right, because it was very much they said Obama in this movie, so it's clear Obama is now the president. He definitely wasn't in the first movie.

 S: Yeah. 

O: So, similar to Prime you could also pair our main human characters up with their partners. We had a whole breakdown on this but it wasn't really important to kind of everything else but, you know, aside from just Sam and Bumblebee, you could have the characters paired up, too. 

S: Ratchet and Optimus would not have partners and would live on base. Optimus runs Autobot operations and Ratchet is in charge of the med bay.

O: But the biggest and most important change is that everyone has friends, hobbies, relationships with each other, and they are an actual team. Yes, catching the Decepticons is important but they have to live, too.

S: It's heavily implied Optimus considers Earth their new home in the movies and that they should be trying to make it home. So Sam still goes to college on the east coast but perhaps somewhere closer to D.C.

O: The where isn't really important just as long as it works out geographically for some of the stuff we mention later and is reasonably prestigious.

S: I mean, considering that we don't even know what the hell Sam is even going for I'm not sure what prestige even matters.

O: I don't even know either but I'm just sort of operating under the assumption of he seems to want to go to a prestigious school. 

S: Yeah, so Leo's the only roommate as the others are hardly in the movie at all and don't add anything to it.

O: Now that Simmons is involved in N.E.S.T. there is no reason for Leo to be running the website but if we do really want to drag him along in all this he could be a big conspiracy buff.

S: Yeah, he may be wrong about a lot of things but damn if he's right about those giant robots. This is probably super awkward for Sam and Bee. The bit with the AllSpark still happens at the beginning. Sam still downloads a bunch of junk into his brain but now he hands the fragment off to Mikaela to give to the Autobots.

O: The Wheelie bit is mostly intact, as well, but less horny and more Mikaela's a warrior goddess.

S: Yep, considering that she can kick his ass, she can kick anyone's ass. Sam has his freakout in class but now his professor or someone sitting in nabs him for an internship at the air and space museum because he's- I don't know! Sam- he somehow manages to solve some sort of impossible equation or something.

O: Yeah, uh, Leo maybe can already be an intern by doing something more marketing or advertising based. 

S: This will allow them access to the museum without the whole underpants bit.

O: Which was completely pointless.

S: Yup.

S: Alice is now also another intern. She attempts to flirt with Sam but gets nowhere cause Sam is in a committed fucking relationship.

S: Yeah. Alice can now copy other people's appearances and does so with Mikaela based on, uh, seeing her or hearing her and Sam on a video call to each other.

O: Now the movie really splits between the A-plot and the B-plot. 

S: The A-plot remains functionally similar to the main movie: The Misadventures of Sam and Co.

O: The B-plot is now the Decepticons are wreaking havoc and the Autobots are spread very thin trying to mitigate as much damage as possible.

S: We're told in the movie that several thousand people have been killed but it doesn't really affect the plot in a meaningful way. Like, it mostly seems like these are just the people who, like, military people.

O: Yeah, not that they don't matter but, again, it just doesn't affect the plot.

S: Yeah.

O: Like, it doesn't change how the Autobots are behaving.

S: Yeah, because the stuff that happens on a ship. That's very contained, that's one ship where as stuff happening in a city center-

O: Several cities. Yeah-

S: Yes, this is a bit wide- bit more widespread and, you know, you're not able to hush that up.

O: But now that's the main reason the group is split up and why Sam doesn't have backup in Egypt initially.

S: Yep, out of the remaining team members Mikaela, Simmons, and Wheelie are the ones who head to D.C. because everyone else is headed somewhere else.

O: But now instead of walking in on Sam kissing another woman, he's kissing “Mikaela” [disguised Alice].

S: Naturally, we get the Mikaela versus Alice showdown that we deserve.

O: The Con's actions during all this stay relatively the same except now it's Soundwave who's in charge of the mission to revive Megatron, still in space, still a satellite.

S: They're still searching for Sam to get the information out of his head.

O: But the Fallen is now the thing they're trying to activate instead of the Star Harvester. 

S: To beat a Prime they need a Prime after all.

O: And the Fallen's locked in stasis or sort of, kind of dead or something,

S: Yeah, whatever it is they need the Matrix of Leadership to revive him and they also still need Sam to find both the Fallen's location and the Matrix's location. 

O: Same thing happens where Sam's group realizes they need to talk to a very old Cybertronian because neither Bee nor Wheelie can read the text that is stuck in his head.

S: The equivalent of asking someone who speaks French or, I don't know, Esperanto to speak Latin. French would be too close. Wheelie points out Jetfire in a picture. Sam realizes that Jetfire is in the museum and he's, like, walked by this five dozen times-

O: [Laughter]

S: And they all go to revive him.

O: The AllSpark fragment reacts before they see the now very well hidden Decepticon badge.

S: Jetfire's bit is still pretty much the same: they're all teleported to Egypt, the tomb is made out of the Prime bodies possibly in Petra again, still.

O: Yeah the location of it doesn't necessarily- isn't necessarily important.

S: Yeah.

O: Only now the Primes have sealed the Fallen way somewhere else before sealing the Matrix away with themselves to keep him from being reactivated.

S: The race is on for Sam's group to try and find the Matrix while the rest of the Autobots are attempting to deal with the Decepticon attacks and still somehow support Sam's group who only has Bumblebee with them for defense.

O: All without drawing the Cons attention to what they're actually doing.

S: Sam retrieves the Matrix from Petra but it doesn't crumble away into sweaty sock dust this time. 

O: Uh, the Autobots and Sam's group converge on the Fallen's tomb planning on destroying him before the Decepticons can revive him, somehow. Maybe it's that Optimus could destroy him. I don't know.

S: But surprise! Soundwave's been monitoring communications and they've been followed so before the rest of the Autobots can get there Megatron gets his hands on the Matrix and resurrects the Fallen.

O: And we discussed going a couple of different ways with this but ultimately we thought it would be interesting if combiners were still important to the final battle, kind of like how Optimus and Jetfire combined. Sort of.

S: It could also be used to differentiate toys from the previous movie and this one.

O: The Autobots arrive! A fight ensues.

S: In order to defeat Optimus, Megatron is willing to make a somewhat literal deal with the devil and combines with the Fallen, so Optimus can be defeated by his or their own hand. 

O: Optimus is losing until Jetfire shows up. 

S: Seekers, as we mentioned, are absolutely ancient Cybertronians, younger only than the original Primes.

O: And in the novels Jetfire and the Fallen had previously worked together.

S: So to fight the Fallen/Megatron combiner Jetfire and Optimus must- must combine, as well, so now we can still have nifty air fights and, god, I keep wanting to make a joke about plane pants or something.

O: [Laughter] Uh, this all plays out about how you'd expect.

S: Yup. Optimus and Jetfire are better at working together and relying on each other's strengths and knowledge of their opponents. Megatron and the Fallen begin trying to wrestle control back and forth from each other.

O: In the end, Optimus and Jetfire are willing to risk everything to stop the Fallen and Megatron from destroying earth but Megatron is not willing to get himself killed because of the Fallen's mistakes and abandons him. 

S: Yep, fleeing with himself, Starscream, and any remaining Decepticons.

O: And the Fallen is killed by, frankly, any other method than having his fucking face ripped off. 

S: Yep, the heroes are victorious, the earth is saved, and with a renewed vow protecting the planet from the Decepticons the credits roll.

O: And, yes, I know we didn't really develop the B-plot very much but, again, working with what happened in the movie proper and seeing how we'd improve it. Ideally somebody who actually writes scripts would be able to kind of think of an interesting b plot and tie all of this together. That would be both interesting and a way to further the characters or- and/or the relationships with each other.

S: Yeah, like it would be kind of hilarious if they ended up all being like inter- if the humans all ended up being internet buddies and not actually realizing it. 

O: But, yeah, that's our summary of how we would try to fix this movie. Take it as you will we're not even saying we're amazing, we just really did not like the original film.

S: Yep, I mean would this be an improvement? It's a “your mileage would vary” thing. 

O: And it also kind of depends on what you like. If you like giant action scenes you probably would like Revenge of the Fallen, I don't know.

S: Yeah.

O: But, uh, join us next time when we kind of get back to our normal G1 shtick otherwise, you know, hopefully we'll see you, like, a year from now and do Dark of the Moon and, uh, uh oh. Wow, I have feelings.

S: Mm-hm. Toodles.

[Outro Music]

[dogsofwarhq]

𝐀  𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊  𝐘𝐎𝐔  to  all  who’ve  showed  interest  &.  applied  thus  far,  as  a  roleplay  cannot  get  this  far  without  your  dedication,  after  all  !  i  was  blown  away  by  the  amount  of  applications  received,  and  due  to  that,  complied  them  into  a  mass  acceptance  post  found  beneath  the  cut.  i’m  looking  forward  to  both  speaking  &. plotting  with  each  of  you  tomorrow  (  bear  with  me  while  all  pages  are  properly  updated  )  —  welcome  to  dogs  of  war  !  please  review  our  checklist  and  report  to  the  bratva  within  the  next  twenty - four  hours.

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  KAZIMIR SKUTNIK,  the  OBSCHAK of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that  he  is  originally  from  BUDAPEST, HUNGARY ;  perhaps  it’s  BEING TAKEN PRISONER DURING THE WAR  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of  the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  MANNY MONTANA.  the  THIRTY-TWO year  old  CIS MALE  was  PERSPICACIOUS  &.  AFFABLE  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  EGOCENTRIC  &.  CONDESCENDING.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  A TRAITOR TETHERED TO LOYALTY BY BLOOD AND GOLD; INTIMIDATING ASCENDENCY, FORGING WORDS AS COLD AS A DAGGER’S STEEL BLADE BETWEEN A SHARP TOOTHED SMILE ; A VAGUE ACCENT WHICH HAILS NO DISCERNIBLE REGION; A DEEP LONELINESS BURIED BENEATH AVARICE AND SADISM. ( VJ,  27, est/gmt-5,  he/they.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  ALEKSANDR  IVANOV  ,  the  SOVIETNIK of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that  he  is  originally  from  MOSCOW  ;  perhaps  it’s  AN  INNATE  &.  SELF  -  SERVING  NEED  TO  SURVIVE  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of  the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  RICHARD  MADDEN  .  the  THIRTY FIVE  year  old  CIS MAN  was  CHARMING  &.  FORGIVING  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  DUPLICITOUS  &.  SHREWD.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  a  smile  that  doesn’t  sit  quite  right  with  you,  all  teeth  and  no  warmth;  oaths  made  and  oaths  broken;  a  hand  around  the  wrist,  neither  pushing  nor  pulling,  but  always  there,  a  persistent  warning;   an  eye  for  an  eye  makes  one  man  blind  .  (  julie, 21, mst, she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  KHRISTINA  VASILIEV  ,  the  MEDIK  of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that   she  is  originally  from  ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA  ;  perhaps  it’s  THE DEATHS OF HER PARENTS  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of  the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  ANYA CHALOTRA  .  the  TWENTY-FIVE  year  old  CISFEMALE  was  CLEVER  &.  INDEPENDENT  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  CYNICAL  &.  VINDICTIVE.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  QUICK MATH EQUATIONS DONE IN HER HEAD, A STOLEN WATCH SNUGGLED INTO HER POCKET, THE TAPPING OF DELICATE FINGERS TO STAVE OFF PICKING UP A CIGARETTE, STRONG CUPS OF COFFEE, & THE MEMORIES OF FIRE LICKING AT HER FINGERTIPS  .  (  alyssa,  twenty-two,  est,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  TATIANA  HENNESSEY  ,  the  BARMAID  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  she  is  are  originally  from  DUBLIN, IRELAND  ;  perhaps  it’s  TO CARE FOR HER AILING GRANDMOTHER  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  SARAH GADON  .  the  TWENTY-NINE  year  old  CISFEMALE  was  KINDHEARTED  &.  ADAPTABLE  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  REACTIVE  &.  CLOSED-OFF.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  the humming of irish drinking songs while working, curse words muttered in russian under her breath, the faintest smell of vanilla, old letters tucked in a hidden box, & a single ray of light pouring into a dark church  .  (  alyssa,  twenty-two,  est,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  AMARINE BERGER ,  the  MECHANIC is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  she  is  originally  from  MONTPELLIER, FRANCE  ;  perhaps  it’s  AN ACHE FOR THE UNCONVENTIONAL AND UNKNOWN  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  ALICIA VIKANDER  .  the  THIRTY  year  old  FEMALE  was  DARING  &.  MOTIVATED  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  SUSPICIOUS  &. FLIPPANT.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  BRIGHT, FLINTY EYES, WHITE KNUCKLES FISTED ‘ROUND A WRENCH, A BULLDOGGISH TENACITY AND  DISDAIN FOR THE SOCIETY THAT BORE YOU.  (  meg,  26,  PST,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  LEONA DEL ROSARIO   ,  the  OWNER OF  THE NIGHTINGALE is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  she  is  originally  from  BOHOL , PHILIPPINES  ;  perhaps  it’s  WANTING TO ESCAPE YOUR PAST  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  SHAY MITCHELL  .  the  THIRTY   year  old  CISWOMAN  was    LIVELY  &.  ZEALOUS  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  PROFLIGATE  &.  ACQUISITIVE  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  CHILDISH LAUGHTER ECHOING THROUGH THE CORRIDORS OF A NOW EMPTY THEATER , A COLLECTION OF FANCY DRESSES BROUGHT WITH YOUR FATHERS DIRTY MONEY , A PRETTY GOLDEN LOCKET ALWAYS SECURED AROUND YOUR NECK THAT HOLDS TOO MANY MEMORIES , THE LINGERING SMELL OF PERFUME AND CIGARETTES LEFT WHEREVER YOU GO , BATTING YOUR LASHES AND SENDING SULTRY SMILES TO GET YOUR WAY , & RED LIPSTICK KISSES ON OLD VANITY MIRRORS.   (  nina, 20+,  est,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  YURY LENKOV  ,  the  FIGHTER AT THE DEN  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  he  is  originally  from  KASIMOV, RUSSIA  ;  perhaps  it’s  THE NEED TO EARN MONEY, AND PERHAPS MAKE SOMETHING OF HIMSELF  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  WOLFGANG NOVOGRATZ  .  the  TWENTY-TWO  year  old  MALE  was  FRIENDLY  &.  ENTHUSIASTIC  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  REPRESSED  &.  NAIVE.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  ROUGH, BLOODY HANDS WRAPPED IN BOXING TAPE THAT CONTRAST YOUR SOFT, GENTLE BEATING HEART ; SEWING UP YOUR WORN OUT, THREADBARE CLOTHES LIKE YOUR MOTHER ALWAYS TAUGHT YOU TO ; BOUNDING WITH EXCITEMENT AND ENERGY THAT GLITTERS IN THE COLD POST WAR CITY OF MOSCOW ; A DESIRE TO DO SOMETHING MORE THAN YOUR FAMILY HAS EVER BEEN ABLE TO DO STARTING TO SEEP THROUGH INTO YOUR YEARNING HEART ; PACKING UP AND LEAVING EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER KNOWN BEFORE IS EASIER AFTER YOU END UP COMPLETELY ALONE IN THE WORLD  .  (  sarah,  twenty-six,  cst,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  KONSTANTIN ZORKIN  ,  the  MEDIK  of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that ��he  is   originally  from  ABALAK  ;  perhaps  it’s  HUNTING DOWN THE REMAINING ROMANOV LINEAGE  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of  the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  LUCKY BLUE SMITH  .  the  TWENTY THREE  year  old  MALE  was  SEDULOUS  &.  VALOROUS  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  QUARRELSOME  &.  ABRASIVE.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation of SINKING FINGERTIPS AGAINST MOONSPUN HAIR AS LATIN SPEWED FROM DRY LIPS; SHOVING A HANDFUL OF STRAWBERRY CANDIES INTO A DIRTY HANDKERCHIEF WHILE GASPS OF ADMIRATION PEPPERED THE BACKGROUND; COAXING SMILES AFTER SELFISH PRAYERS FOR DIVINE MERCY; THE SMELL OF RUST DISGUSED BY PEPPERMINT BEFORE THE SKIN GROWS COLD AND THE DEATH RATTLE RINGS AT MIDNIGHT; DELICATE DRAWINGS OF THE WORLD’S MOST GROTESQUE EXHIBITION  .  (  J,  twenty six,  CST,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  NATALIA SUDAYEVNA ,  the  PRIMA BALLERINA  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  she  is  originally  from  KIEV  ;  perhaps  it’s  THE KIEV OFFENSIVE  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  DANIELLE ROSE RUSSELL  .  the  TWENTY THREE  year  old  FEMALE  was  TENACIOUS  &.  CLEVER  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  COLD  &.  DISTANT.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  BLOOD ON POINTE SHOES, A BLAZING FIRE IN THE DARK OF NIGHT, SIBLINGS LOST AND FOUND AND LOST AGAIN, A NEVERENDING PIROUETTE IN A DARK THEATER, THE STING OF THE COLD .  (  skye,  21,  pst,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  VITALIYA YVONNE BALAKIREV ,  the  BOYEVIK  of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that  she  is   originally  from  VORONEZH , RUSSIA ;  perhaps  it’s  SEEKING OUT THE VOLKI TO JOIN THEM AFTER LOSING EVEYTHING  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of  the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  KAT  MCNAMARA .  the  TWENTY FOUR  year  old  CISWOMAN  was  FORTHRIGHT  &.  CANNY  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  VITRIOLIC  &.  DOGMATIC.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  WILD LOCKS JUST AS FULL AND BEAUTIFUL AS YOUR MOTHERS , THE FEELING OF A COLD METAL BLADE PRESSING AGAINST A WARM THROAT , DEAD ROSES WRAPPED ON AN OLD WEDDING BAND , LULLABIES HUMMED SOFTLY IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT AS YOU HOLD THE MOST IMPORTANT THING TO YOU CLOSELY & CRIMSON DROPLETS OF BLOOD FROM SOMEONE ELSE ON THE FRESHLY FALLEN WHITE WINTER SNOW.  (  nina,  20+,  est,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  NATALYA  ALEKSEVNA  KHVOSTOVSKY ,  the  HANDMAIDEN  TO  THE  ROMANOV  FAMILY  BARMAID  AT  THE  GARNIZON  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  she  is  originally  from  SAINT PETERSBURG  ,  RUSSIA   MOSCOW  ,  RUSSIA  ;  perhaps  it’s  ESCAPING  TOBOLSK  DAYS  BEFORE  THE  THREE  REMAINING  YOUNG  DUCHESSES  AND  THE  HEIR  APPARENT  WERE  TRANSFERRED  TO  YEKATERINBURG  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  LILY  JAMES  .  the  TWENTY  SEVEN  year  old  CIS WOMAN  was  ALTRUISTIC  &.  DILIGENT before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  MEEK  &.  GUARDED  .  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  BRIGHT  WHITE  GOWNS  TURNED  A  MUTED  GREY  BOTH  FROM  TRAVEL  AND  NERVES  THAT  NEVER  CEASE  ;  ONCE  DELICATE  FINGERS  USED  FOR  TYING  BOWS  ARE  NOW  RUBBED  RAW  BY  SPILLED  ALCOHOL   ;   BLONDE  HAIR  THAT  HAS  BEEN  STRIPPED  OF  IT’S  GOLDEN  SHINE  IN  FAVOR  OF  A  MEEK  BROWN  TO  HIDE  FROM  A  LIFE  ONCE  LIVED   ;   LETTERS  THAT  ARE  BURNED  LONG  BEFORE  THEY  ARE  SENT  ;  A  DAMNATION  AND  CONDEMNATION  TO  A  LIFE  ALONE  FOR  NO  ONE  CAN  KNOW  WHO  YOU  WERE  OR  WHERE  YOU  ONCE  THRIVED  .  (  lilah,  twenty two,  est,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑 , BAYEZID KUZEY , the BOYEVIK of the volki is seen traversing the streets of moscow , but the bratva’s rivals swear that he is originally from TRABZON , TURKEY ; perhaps it’s USING THE VOLKI’S NETWORK AND CONNECTIONS TO RECRUIT ANARCHISTS that brought them here . fellow members of the volki liken their resemblance to DENIZ CAN AKTAŞ . the THIRTY TWO year old CIS MAN was VALIANT &. BENIGN before the war’s ruination , but in the aftermath have become BANEFUL &. INCENDIARY . rumours throughout eastern europe have given them a reputation of THE CROW THAT SCAVENGES ROTTED , RANCID MEAT , DEVOURING WHAT THE WOLF CANNOT STOMACH ; THE DEAFENING CHORUS OF CITY DOGS BARKING AFTER THE SUN IS WANED . ( zemër, 27, eet, she/her. )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  MISHKA,  the  STABLEHAND is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear that they  are  originally  from  ZVENIGOROD;  perhaps  it’s  REPAYING THEIR UNCLE’S DEBT TO THE VOLKI that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  BEX TAYLOR-KLAUS.  the  TWENTY-ONE year old  NON-BINARY PERSON was  DILEGENT &.  SANGUINE  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  WITHDRAWN &. CREDULOUS.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  DIRT BURIED UNDER THEIR FINGERNAILS, THE CREASES OF THEIR SKIN, AND THE FIBERS OF THEIR CLOTHES | A SMALL BODY HOUSING THE MIGHT OF A MUSTANG’S HEART | AN OLD MILITARY COAT, AWKWARD AND LARGE ON THEIR FRAME, WITH FRAYED HEMS. (  VJ,  27,  est/gmt-5,  he/they.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  FYODOR  GRIGORVICH   RAKOVSKY ,  the  MANAGER  OF  THE  DEN  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  he  is  originally  from  MOSCOW ,  RUSSIA  ;  perhaps  it’s  BEING  A  RETIRED  BOXER  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  DANIEL  HENNEY  .  the  THIRTY  EIGHT  year  old  CIS  MAN  was  FERVENT  &.  PATERNAL  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  DEFENSIVE  &.  EXACTING .  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  A  FIGHTER  THAT  WAS  ONLY  HALF  SKILL ,  AWARE  OF  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  SHOWMANSHIP  (  NO  ONE  PAYS  TO  SEE  A  CLEAN  KNOCK - OUT :  QUICK  LUNGE ,  ONE  PUNCH ,  DROP  ) ;  THE  GHOSTS OF  A  CATALOG OF INJURIES  IN  BONES  THAT  REFUSE  TO  CALM ,  IN  A  LIMP  THAT  MAKES  OTHERS  THINK  THEY  HAVE  ANSWERS ;  IMAGINE  THE  WEIGHT  OF  THE  ONE  THING  YOU  HAVE  BEEN  TAUGHT  TO  DO  BEING  LIFTED  OFF  YOUR  CHEST ,  A  SUDDEN  NEED  TO  RELEARN  HOW  TO  BREATHE  WITHOUT  IT ;  UNOPENED  AND  UNSEEN  LETTERS  SCATTERED  ON  THE  FLOOR ,  STORIES  SENT  HOME  NEVER  HEARD ;  THE  CREEPING  FEELING  THAT  YOUR  MOTHER  LIED  ABOUT  DIVINITY  AND  GRACE .  (  quinn,  twenty two,  est,  she/her.  ) 

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  ELENA  ZORKIN  ,  the  SERVER  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that  she  is  originally  from  YEKATERINBURG  ;  perhaps  it’s  HER SEARCH FOR HER BROTHER  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  SAOIRSE RONAN  .  the  TWENTY ONE  year  old  FEMALE  was  GENTLE  &.  SWEET  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  SKITTISH  &.  ANXIOUS.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  A GENTLE SMILE HOLDING BACK TEARS, THE WHISPER OF THE WIND IN THE TREES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, LOOKING FOR WORK IN A NEW VILLAGE EVERY WEEK, THE ECHOES OF SCREAMS IN HAUNTING DREAMS, BACKROADS THAT NEVER SEEM TO END .  (  skye,  21,  pst,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  EVGENIA  KONSTANTINOVNA  ZINOVIEVA  ,  the  SOVIETNIK  of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that  she  is  originally  from  VIENNA  ,  AUSTRIA  VLADIVOSTOK  ,  RUSSIA  ;  perhaps  it’s  FLEEING  FROM  THE  RUINS  OF  TWO  EMPIRES  THAT  WOULD  GLADLY  SEE  HER  SILENCES  BROKEN  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of  the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  NATASHA  LIU  BORDIZZO  .  the  TWENTY  FIVE  year  old  CIS  WOMAN  was  INTELLIGENT  &.  PERSPICACIOUS  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  APATHETIC  &.  WITHDRAWN.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  SLENDER  FINGERS  —  GLIDING  ACROSS‌  THE‌  SURFACE  OF  PRISTINE  PIANO  KEYS,  CLAMPED  OVER‌  THE  HANDLE  OF  A‌  WELL-WORN‌  BAG,  SLIDING  ACROSS‌  A‌  PASSPORT  WITH  ALL  THE‌  WRONG  WORDS  ON  IT  ;  CRIMSON  RED  —  THE‌  COLOUR  THE  STREETS  RUN  IN  YOUR‌  SLEEP,  SHADE  OF  THE  RUBIES  YOUR  MOTHER‌  TUCKED  INTO  THE‌  HIDDEN  DEPTHS  OF‌  YOUR‌  SUITCASE,  HUE  THAT  YOUR  COMPANIONS  DROWN  THEMSELVES  IN  ;  WELL  SPUN  AND  WELL  WORN  LIES  —  THE  ROLE  OF  WHO‌  YOU  ARE‌  TO‌  PLAY  NOW,  EACH  AND  EVERY‌  LAST  CALCULATED  WORD  THAT‌  FALLS  PAST‌  YOUR  LIPS,  THE  PRETENSE  THAT  YOU  ARE‌  ANYTHING  BUT  A‌  CHILD  BUILT  OF‌  THE  RUINS  OF  EMPIRES  .  (  kyoto,  nineteen,  gmt+3,  she / her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓    𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒    𝐎𝐅    𝐖𝐀𝐑    ,    MARIJA    TATYANA    KOVALEVA    ,    the    NURSE    is    seen    traversing    the    streets    of    moscow    ,    but    the    volki    swear    that    she    is    originally    from    YEKATERINBURG    ,    WESTERN    SIBERIA    ;    perhaps    it’s    THE    KOVALEV    FAMILY    PATRIARCH’S    PURSUIT    OF    DYNASTIC    WEALTH    that    brought    them    here    .    fellow    residents    liken    their    resemblance    to    LAURA    HARRIER    .    the    TWENTY    SEVEN    year    old    CIS    FEMALE   was    CONSCIENTIOUS    &.    MAGNANIMOUS    before    the    war’s    ruination    ,    but    in    the    aftermath    have    become    DEPRECATING    &.    PHLEGMATIC    .    rumours    throughout    eastern    europe    have    given    them    a    reputation    of    SUGAR    COATED    WORDS    SPOKEN    WITH    THE    INTENTION    TO    SOOTHE    WHISPERED    TO    DYING    MEN    ,     OR     ,    THE    GIFT    OF    COMPASSION    IS    LEARNED    WITHIN    A    FIELD    HOSPITAL’S    WALLS    ;    GRIEF    HIDDEN    IN    TORN    SEPIA    PHOTOGRAPHS    THAT    SHOW    SNAPSHOTS   OF    WHAT    USED    TO    BE    AND    THE    SUBSEQUENT    ACHE    FOR    WHAT    CAME    BEFORE    ;    BECOMING    OVERWHELMED    BY    THE    CHILDISH    YEARNING    TO    BE    CLASPED    IN    THE    SAFETY    OF    YOUR    MOTHER’S    ARMS    ;    CATEGORISING    YOUR    LIFE    AS    A    SERIES    OF    WHAT    CAME    BEFORE    AND    WHAT    CAME    AFTERS    ;    LIPS    PURSUED    IN    STEELY    DETERMINATION    AS    YOU    SKILFULLY    SEW    PEOPLE    BACK    TOGETHER    .    (    lucy    ,    23    ,    gmt    ,    she    /    her    .    )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  SORIN  LAZARESCU  ,  the  BRIGADIER  of  the  volki  is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of      moscow  ,  but  the  bratva’s  rivals  swear  that  he  is  originally  from  BUCHAREST, ROMANIA  ;  perhaps  it’s  IN SEARCH OF HIS ANONYMOUS PENPAL that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  members  of   the  volki  liken  their  resemblance  to  BILL SKARSGARD  .  the  THIRTY  TWO  year  old  MALE  was  DISCIPLINED  &.  PRAGMATIC  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  NIHILISTIC  &.  DECEPTIVE.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have   given  them  a  reputation  of  THE CRACKING OF THE RADIO RINGING LOUDER THAN STIFLED CRIES ; CURLS OF SMOKE DANCING ALONG PALE LIMBS AS THE CENSER DANCES ITS LONELY PERFORMANCE WITH EACH STEP TAKEN ; HOLDING DELICATE PAPER WITH TWO FINGERS IN ORDER TO INHALE EACH WORD AND TASTE THE WORLD THEY ESCAPED FROM ; HANDS RAISED HIGH AFTER WHAT ALMOST WAS HIS VERY LAST KISS FROM THE CROSS DRAPED SAFELY AGAINST HIS PLENDER GAP ; THE STIFFENING OF LIMBS AS HE ENTERS A ROOM, READY TO EAT THE FEARFUL .  (  j ,  twenty six,  cst,  she/her.  )

𝐋𝐄𝐓  𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐀𝐑  ,  MARGARITA MAKSIMOVA ,  the  OPERA SINGER is  seen  traversing  the  streets  of  moscow  ,  but  the  volki  swear  that   she  is   originally  from  PETROGRAD  ;  perhaps  it’s  SEEKING A SECOND CHANCE  that  brought  them  here  .  fellow  residents  liken  their  resemblance  to  ZHENYA  KATAVA  .  the  TWENTY-FIVE  year  old  CIS WOMAN  was  CHARMING  &.  GENUINE  before  the  war’s  ruination  ,  but  in  the  aftermath  have  become  COLD  &.  DISTANT.  rumours  throughout  eastern  europe  have  given  them  a  reputation  of  HAVING THE SOFTNESS OF A DOVE, LIPS WARM AS A SHOT OF VODKA,  A WISTFUL SONG PLAYING FROM ANOTHER ROOM .  (  sylv,  21,  gmt+1,  she/her.  )

[hecohansen31]

Don’t Fight Fire With A Sword

Alfred The Great+Kathleen (OC)

Wearing A Warning Sign:

“You say Come over baby I think you're pretty I'm okay I'm not your baby If you think I'm pretty”

“You should see me in a crown” by Billie Ellish.

(Previous Chapter) (Masterlist)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I know I haven’t been able to upload a lot of stuff lately and I have been mostly focusing on the series that sadly haven’t been getting a lot of attention, because they are the ones that have been left behind.

I am not going to lie, I am least inclined to do them, because of the lack of feedback gaining from them, mostly because I constantly think that nobody will read them, so if you are reading this story and you liked it, I wanted to ask if you could support me with a simple reblog and comment, because I am truly truly looking forward to know what you thought about it.

Please don’t forget that feedback makes our heart beat stronger and our fingers write faster!

SUMMARY: Trying to convince Alfred to save her sister might be much more difficult than Kathleen had planned, even more when the heathens’ plans come crashing against her own (Set up between the ‘Smart Saviour’ and ‘The Betrayed Ruler’, from my fic ‘To Kill a King’)

WORDS: 3, 7 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Violence and Domestic Abuse, Court Plotting, Arranged Marriage, Historically Inaccurate and maybe character being a bit OOC (I am sorry for that).

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More than a week had passed, and you were still Ivar’s wife and Kathleen hadn’t found a solution yet, that would have brought you home.

To your rightful home.

Although she had caught the king’s attention, she hadn’t convinced him to do much about your ‘problem’, since Alfred seemed focused only on the ‘best for his country’.

‘I do understand that you miss your sister…’ his eyes told you that he didn’t and if the entire story about Aethelred’s death was true, he had no way of truly knowing whatr it meant to miss a sister as much as you missed air ‘… but princess (Y/N) has done what she had to do for our country, the great Wessex… it is a sacrifice but it had to be made’.

‘You make it seem so grand and strong’ had replied Kathleen, as she hid her mouth and words it held in the cape of her long mantle ‘… but in reality it was nothing more than throwing her to the dogs’.

‘What would you expect me to do, princess?’ had shot back Alfred with a violence in his reply that only matched the tiredness she had noticed in her eyes ‘… if he had asked of me, I would have gladly marched over, willingly to his camping, but he didn’t… he chose your sister and she knew what would be the best choice’.

‘As if she had one’ the words had burned on Kathleen’s chest.

Because it wasn’t solely your injustice.

It was hers.

And Abigail’s.

Alfred had noticed immediately how truly bothered she had been, and Kathleen hadn’t wanted to continue the conversation that day, although she was well aware that Alfred would soon go back to his lands.

She didn’t know if she had to wish for that.

Or if she wanted him to stay.

Although he hadn’t done much for his sister, he certainly was one of the few that matched her brain and chatter.

Somebody that made her feel like an equal and not simply the dirt beneath their shoes.

Like her father.

He had noticed immediately how much time she had been spending with Alfred and that same night he had decided to act upon it, since he didn’t like his daughter meddling in his business.

‘What are you doing around the prince?’ he had asked her, after he had gotten her to meet him in his own private chambers ‘… you aren’t one to whore out your body easily, you never were… sometimes I thought it’d be easier for me, if you were, instead, like that’.

‘You already sold a daughter to the best offerer, isn’t it enough?’ she had retorted, seeing her father’s anger grow in his eyes and she had welcomed it gladly.

Rage made her feel reactive and made something similar to fire run in her veins.

It made her feel strong.

And she would have taken everything instead of the small scared child she had always felt before she started to fight back.

It didn’t matter that he would hit her harder if he she reacted.

She just didn’t want to be weak.

She would never be weak again.

But that night her father played dirty tricks once he had reduced her to nothing more than a bloody pulp.

‘Sometimes I wish that you’d be more like your mother…’ he had commented as he cleaned his hands in the basin of water he kept in his private chambers.

It had become a darker shade of marron due to the blood in it.

But it wasn’t only Kathleen’s blood.

She had made her father bleed and it was already a victory.

‘… she never fought me back, don’t you know? She was smart’ he had seemed to want to remember her mother, dirtying her memory, as Kathleen tried another weak attempt to attack him just to shut him up.

But he had punched her in the gut, making her vomit the small meal she had consumed with him ‘… your sister (Y/N)… they are similar, not only in the appearance… but I wonder…’.

And then he had shot the final blow.

‘I wonder if she also begs when he hits her’.

She had just been able to push herself away from the room as her father snickered aggressively almost turning in a choked cough for the harshness of it.

She had tried to shield her brain from it, from the intrusive images her father had filled her mind with.

But it hadn’t worked.

And she had fallen asleep with the thought of screaming that sounded at the same time like her mother and her sister.

That morning she had overslept till an obsessive knocking had brought her to drag her ass away from bed.

The previous night she hadn’t even been able to take care to her body, although she knew that nothing would show up on her face.

It was the only way a lady was properly beaten.

Never damage the precious goods.

Abigail still looked too concerned with whatever troubled her to notice Kathleen’s slumped walk, as she moved to lean on the door to avoid fall on her ass.

She had been the one knocking and she had an urgent light in her eyes.

“… they… they accused her of poisoning him” the words of Abigail were of one filled with pure panic, as she reacted almost hysterically.

“Sister… I don’t… I don’t understand you” spoke Kathleen as she invited her sister inside, mostly to be able to lean properly on a bed, as Abigail finally seemed to remember what was going truly behind her message.

“… it’s (Y/N)!” Kathleen’s ears immediately opened as she looked fully at her sister’s distressed face “… they accused her of having poisoned Ivar”.

“It is impossible” that was Kathleen’s first response.

You wouldn’t have done such a horrendous act.

And if you had, you wouldn’t have been surely discovered.

You had always been the smart sister.

“… Heahmund just wrote a letter” explained Abigail “… but a few days have passed since it first travelled”.

“They wouldn’t dishonor an English princess” again her words seemed only rightful “… they wouldn’t touch a single hair of hers”.

But at the same time her father’s words came back at her.

‘I wonder if she also begs when her husband hits her’.

She remembered Ivar’s growl as (Y/N) had moved to lower herself to grab the fallen ring, although had been gentle with her.

The promise he had made to Kathleen certainly wasn’t forgotten.

But how much was the value of a heathen’s word, truly?

‘Please God, I never asked you anything, I know I denied Your existence when mother died, but right now if my sister is even solely scratched, know that I’ll curse Your name and burn down Your fucking churches’.

She would have killed Ivar, for it, after she had burned all the churches in her kingdom.

“How did you know of the letter?” asked Kathleen suddenly, knowing that there was much more behind it “… did it arrive to you? Or did you hear about it…?”.

“Father received it, meanwhile we were having breakfast” explained Abigail, her eyes suddenly shining “… he and Alfred are having a council together, right now, father wasn’t… father isn’t happy with (Y/N)”.

“… when will he ever be” Kathleen spoke biting her lips to cease feeling pain as she tried to focus on what to do next.

Barging in the council would have certainly worked.

And even if she did that, what would she have said.

‘Go and retrieve my sister form that fucking heathens’ hands’ wouldn’t have been proper, but neither sweet words would have worked.

They were all she had used with Alfred.

She had to pass to diplomacy.

“Help me get dressed” she ordered to Abigail, as instead her sister’s eyes were set onto her bloodied sheets and Kathleen had to lightly shook her “… Abigail, I can’t barge in my nightgown”.

“You can barely move for all I care” she retorted, with a truly worried look.

“I’ll be fine” breathed out Kathleen as she flicked her fingers at her sister “… now bring me my red robe, I am going to war”.

---

Her entrance had been quite less impressive than she had thought, although Alfred had moved to look up at her, immediately, before ducking his eyes again on the maps that had been pulled out on the table.

And her father didn’t look in the slightest surprised.

“… my daughter, you missed breakfast”.

“I felt unwell” she commented tightly, as she shot him a light look, as if to say ‘because of you’ “… but now I am here, and I am worried about my sister”.

“Your sister has just won us a rather troublesome headache” although her father’s words were slow and soft, almost meant to make his advisors and Alfred laugh, his eyes held a deeper violence and rage.

(Y/N) had done a mistake and now their father was paying for it.

You had disappointed him.

“My sister is under process for something you made her do”.

It was an accuse and suddenly silence fell in the room.

It was a challenge for her father that immediately asked all the advisors to leave the room, except Alfred, on whom he hadn’t any power.

“Sweet girl of mine, I won’t let you insult me in front of my advisors” he spoke, hissing through his teeth with a harshness that didn’t go unnoticed even to Alfred, who tried to shift the attention away from you.

“This isn’t a game of blame” he spoke, as his youngish charm became an older and kinglier strength “… (Y/N)’s life, your sister and daughter, is at risk”.

“Thank you for pointing out what is truly important” Kathleen commented, as she thanked Alfred also with her eyes and he simply smiled before looking at her father.

“… we can’t simply let this go unnoticed, not solely to save her, but also because it’d just make the Vikings think that they can touch one of us, without getting punished” explained the king of Wessex, as the slight smirk on your father’s face disappeared.

“She isn’t one of us, anymore” muttered Kathleen’s father, keeping the words tight in his mouth, although Alfred caught on them, a true expression of shock on his face, hence it was Kathleen who brought attention to them.

“She is” she protested loudly “… she is a Saxon, an English princess, and she belongs to us”.

“She probably has a child of a heathen already in his belly, if the rumors are true” her father retorted “… he has tainted her already with his heathen’s way”.

Kathleen almost wished to let his father know of his son-in-law’s shortcomings, but she bit her lips and let Alfred separate them again, as this time an harsh look was sent her father’s way, effectively hitting him in his pride.

“What princess Kathleen says is true” confirmed Alfred “… she might have married prince Ivar, but that doesn’t diminish her in any way. I swore to protect her after everything was done and the heathens’ power over our land is destroyed, but that also involves the time she spends in the settlements”.

Your father didn’t look so smug now that he was defeated.

“… we’ll have to think of something” spoke Alfred, harshly, as he invited Kathleen to sit, taking in her lightly trembling figure, as he also helped her in the chair, adjusting it behind her, his finger lightly brushing against her back, with a gentleness that didn’t belong to his steely eyes “… first of all, what does the letter truly say”.

Her father threw it at Alfred, his eyes bored but scanning roughly over the sense of companionship that was slowly building up between Alfred and Kathleen, the latter surprised that the king of Wessex asked her to join in his reading.

‘Two eyes are better than one’.

And although sadly the letter seemed true, what had been left out by the hysterical Abigail was that you hadn’t been already processed, but you had been trialed on charges of attempted poisoning Ivar.

The verdict was still out.

“… this seems ridiculous” explained Kathleen to Alfred, who looked at her truly attentively “… (Y/N) is careful, if she had tried to poison him, she wouldn’t have been caught believe me”.

“I didn’t think that your sister owned such a brain” had commented her father, the third wheel of the appointment between Kathleen and Alfred.

“She must have been involved in some heathen plot, unwillingly” commented Alfred.

“But why?” Kathleen replied.

“To undermine our hold on them?” suggested Alfred, although he looked at it thoughtfully “… I have also heard that there have been some problematic fights between the sons of Ragnar, so that isn’t even to put off. Somebody might have wanted to undermine Ivar’s claim and they used her against him”.

“Thinking about that won’t still solve anything, if we stay here without doing nothing” commented tightly Kathleen “… they might put her to death, if they haven’t already”.

“We can’t just march soldiers in there” explained Alfred “… it’ll be considered an act of war”

“… and I won’t give you any men to send there for this crazy idea” rumbled her father, not that it got him much attention.

“We do not have to send an entire army, but we need to reinforce our hold on them” counterattacked Kathleen, and suddenly Alfred’s eyes were set up on her determination, something that made her blush lightly “… what I mean… what I mean is that we don’t have to make it seem like more than a casual encounter? Don’t you have soldiers on those borders?”

“… now that you make me think about it I do” remembered the king, before he grabbed onto Kathleen’s hands, something that made her blush spread further “… I’ll tell them to move there immediately, in the meanwhile do reply to bishop Heahmund to hold on and be heard”.

Kathleen’s father, to whom that phrase was shot at, didn’t look in the slightest pleased by being ordered around and he endured it with a smirk that spoke of pure annoyance.

And Kathleen shot him one back.

A victorious one.

But her sister still wasn’t safe.

---

After her resistance to her father she had moved back in her room to let Abigail know of Alfred’s interest in this.

Although he hadn’t uttered any word to make (Y/N) come home, he certainly had sided with her, which was already one step forward.

Although it didn’t calm her anxious heart.

You were going to be trialed.

And this made Kathleen nervous.

Although you did have Heahmund on your side, you would have been trialed by a jury of heathens, hence the process wouldn’t have been in your favor and neither it would have been something that you had knowledge of.

Kathleen had just to trust in Heahmund, you and the armies Alfred would have sent to defend you and bring you home, the most extreme case he had thought about, although your father had denied that option immediately.

‘She’d be a rejected wife, a true shame for this honorable household’ he had complained, but Alfred had shown to have had enough of Kathleen’s father annoying replies.

‘Your daughter has honored us through accepting to put her life on the line for information from the Vikings’ he had reminded Kathleen’s father ‘… if we have to welcome her back, after this, we will, gladly’.

She had enjoyed the tight expression on her father’s face.

And that was what was keeping her upright, no matter the injuries all over her body and the threat over her sister’s head.

She couldn’t do much for her sister, but she could do even less with the pain that shot through her body.

She hadn’t been allowed to join Alfred’s border troupes, both because it wouldn’t have been a conflict of interests and both for the fact that it had been thoroughly dangerous.

So, she decided to bind the few broken bones in her chest, mostly because she knew for experience that they would have healed on their own, although it’d be nothing but a painful experience.

Her father knew perfectly where to hit her.

She heard a knocking on the door, and gently hurried to finish the binding, quickly wearing an ample nightgown to avoid anything weighting on the binding, since the corset had already left its signs, only stealing painfully your breath.

She expected it to be some maid or someone tasked with spying over her by her father, since she had been quite bold with her affirmations and her control freak of a father would have gladly done everything he could to regain some semblance of order and power over her.

But instead it turned out to be king Alfred.

“Are you lost again, my king” Kathleen teased him, having grown quite fascinated with the way his cheeks flushed.

“I…” he searched for words, as his pink togue wet his full lips.

He certainly had a beauty in himself that made him as tantalizing as sin.

“… not this time” he promised “… I just wanted to check on you, you didn’t look your best, at the council”.

“Thank you for pointing out that I look like shit” uttered back Kathleen, faking an offended tone.

But she wasn’t truly, although some feminine instinct in her wanted to look her best for him.

She didn’t know what made him blush, the thought of having truly offended her or the curse she had uttered.

“… you never look like… you know what, princess Kathleen” he shot back, although his eyes didn’t meet hers, his voice was true “… but I couldn’t help but notice that you were limping, this morning”.

“I just fell from the bed” ‘and onto my father’s fists’.

It was the most common of excuse she had given out.

Usually people didn’t ask more, because they weren’t truly interested.

Kathleen had known since she had been able to read that people would have never ever truly loved her for what she was.

And they never would.

They faked their interest in her, because she would have been their future queen, since she was the sole heir to her father.

That was also the reason why she had been an utter and complete mess with her suitors, making one after the other run away.

It was the last rebellion she could give before it was too late.

“… that seems…” Alfred was smarter than anybody around her, so he probably knew that she was lying to him but maintained her secrecy “… I am sorry that you hurt yourself, princess”.

In the end, he chose not to get involved.

But his eyes asked of what he could do to help her.

“I was binding myself up to avoid any broken ribs” she explained, as she moved to the gauze left on the bed where she was laying “… I have a few cuts on my legs to take care of, would you be so kind to get me some salve from my beside table”.

Alfred seemed to understand that, although she appreciated his presence, she wanted a bit of privacy and as any normal royal attendant, he moved to the beside table, leaving her to tighten privately the gauze around her chest, as she hissed a shaky breath, Alfred’s shoulders quaking at that sound.

He almost made to turn around, but then his resolve was stronger, and he froze, moving to search in the drawers.

His ears became red as he found only scandalous undergarments, she had bought just to make you and Abigail smile brightly as you commented at the uncomfortableness of them.

He seemed to have the same thought.

“Wrong drawer, my king” she joked, as she moved the remaining gauze away, to let him sit beside you, something almost intimate setting up in the room.

“… sorry” he commented, before he opened the proper drawer and grabbed the small bottle with lotion, offering it to Kathleen who moved to shamelessly raise her nightgown up her legs, unveiling them.

And she couldn’t hide that suddenly the room became warmer as his eyes set up on her body “… isn’t this improper?”.

“Oh why?” she spoke, her rebellious streak appearing in her eyes “… I am just healing my wounds, if you think that is improper, that’s on you”.

Alfred seemed almost taken aback by her scolding and she smirked at him, as his lips moved in a softer smirk, before he passed her the salve.

“Then if you don’t see anything improper in this, may I help with your wounds?” the little king wanted to play, his eyes suddenly becoming flame “… wouldn’t want you to miss out any spot”.

“Then be my guest, my king”.

And she pushed the lid back in his hands and he opened it calmly, gently dripping a good amount on his fingers, before he softly spread it around his hands, lowering the box again on the beside table.

Kathleen moved one leg towards him, meanwhile Alfred sat himself on the chair next to bed avoiding the spot beside you, as if he was too shameful for that.

Kathleen, then, gave him one of her legs, pushing them on his thigh, as one last attempt to make him back out.

But it wasn’t enough.

And his eyes shot up to meet hers.

And this time it was her who backed away from them.

She should have thought about you.

In a dark cell, as you waited for your verdict.

Maybe risking the worst of sentences.

But now she was simply drowning in those pools of pure sky.

His hands were smooth, certainly the ones of somebody who was more used to paper than the swords.

Something that felt damnably good against her hurt skin.

The coldness of the cream gave Kathleen great relief, alongside the way it glided over her broken and dry skin.

And Alfred knew just how much pression to apply on most points of her legs, as she found closer and closer to that angelic face.

And slowly there was just the space of a breath between each other.

And Kathleen closed it with the only truly free movement she had ever allowed herself, beside the king.

And she asked herself, if this was all a plan or if her heart beating dangerously fast was true.

She didn’t care to find out, when Alfred pushed her closer to him, answering the kiss.

---

@queenboosha​​ @lovelylangdonx​​ @rls905​ @maggiescarborough​

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