#task: 107

[shyjusticewarrior]

Jason be like:

[karmacat107]

PLEASE do this. listen i was real lucky when i was younger, my school was quite progressive. but for a time we had a clearly conservative-aligned principal and even though we had never incorporated the pledge into our school days before, one year we just suddenly started doing it. there was a flag on the wall in my classroom as well, and looking back its presence is even stranger to me. i don't know if it was there before or not. i digress.

a lot of us were annoyed but we just. did it anyway. memorized that stupid thing and went through the motions mindlessly. and then, one by one, we started sitting down. for a time, some of us would sit every so often, claiming to be tired, and then the next day we'd stand again. i don't remember who the first student to make a commitment to sitting down was. hell, it could've been me for all i know. it doesn't matter. what matters is that it started a chain reaction. everyone started asking themselves why they were doing it, and when they couldn't come up with a good answer, they sat back down. the school stopped playing the pledge after a while. it works.

dear usamerican high schoolers looking for a way to resist fascism: sit through the pledge of allegiance.

no getting up. no looking at the flag.

everyone will be looking at you. you'll be sweating like a fucking hippopotamus. your teacher will sternly tell you to get up. you'll feel stupid and that maybe its not worth it because you're just a kid in a classroom. but I'm here to remind you that there are no real life consequences to detention. there are however real life consequences to resisting a thoughtless performance of nationalism.

[mesetacadre]

107 years ago today an organized group of workers in the Russian Empire decided they had had enough of war, misery, the oppression of women, and of a corrupt democracy that had promised much and changed nothing, the Tsar still in his palaces, the workers still giving their life for a cause foreign to the working class of Europe and the world. Most bolsheviks were industrial workers, with an insufficient formal education, precarious salaries and conditions. The working class in the Russian Empire had tried liberal democracy, had seen its hipocrisy in the months following the election of the provisional government, and understood their historic goal of progressing further beyond the democracy of the landowner, businessman and aristocrat. It wasn't the first time the proletariat had attempted to take power, both worldwide and in the Russian Empire, but this time they were ready, educated, an organized enough.

The armies of 14 imperialist powers combined could not stop the will of a mass of workers that had realized their worth, their potential, and most importantly, their dignity. They no longer had to bow down to paternalism, electoralism, and the capitalists to whom they sold their labor, no armed intervention, no amount of propaganda, no adventurist distraction, could take away from that fact. This isn't a fantasy, it isn't idealistic, it's a historical fact, that revolutions are possible, have happened, succeeded, and that the opportunity presents itself sooner than most expect. The only task at hand is to organize towards it. Agitation, education, an actual dual power structure predicated on a unified will, not on voluntarism and horizontalism.

I understand the topic at hand for the last 2 days and many more to come will be the results of the US election. But the US is not the only liberal democracy that increasingly creates disappointment among the social majority. After all the posting about the various liberals that make up the US electoral environment, it is imperious that nobody falls into despair. Not in a self-care way, not in the way most left-liberals have been talking about, referring to an abstract sense of "preparing", but because of the simple necessity for this election to further erode any popular faith in reformism, whether it's Trump's reforms, Harris' reforms, Bernie's reforms, or Stein's reforms. Wallowing in despair is as useful as placing yet more stake into whoever is wheeled out next to promise even less, in what will most certainly be also called the most important elections of our lifetimes.

Return to the working class of the Russian Empire, of a fractured and hungry China, to the colony of Indochina, to the plantation island that was Cuba. And I urge you to exercise some perspective. These masses of people had suffered more than you for longer than you. Nobody's asking you to feel guilty about your economic position in the world, we're asking you to realize that, for as long as there have been modes of production predicated on the exploitation, division and discrimination of a producing class, there have always been options, better options than sinking into despondent depression. They have managed to cast off their yoke and build towards a society not based on exploitation. They're not utopias, and mistakes have been and will be committed, but they all realized and understood that it's better to commit our own mistakes, than to toil under the rational oppression by another class for any longer.

[77gigabytes]

The Fox's Den {Sylus x Reader}

This just kinda...spilled out of my brain... It started off as a few paragraphs and then spiraled into this, but uh, enjoy.

FAIR WARNING!!! THIS IS INCREDIBLY LONG, I MIGHT HAVE TO SPLIT IT INTO PARTS ACTUALLY IDK

|| Masterlist ||

-Seven

You’re finishing some paperwork at HQ when Jenna slides a manila folder on your desk.

“Advance tech labs has another mission for you.” She says and crosses her arms over her chest, “Hear them out first. Then go take a look.”

As if on cue, your watch beeps with a notification.

You click on it and the mission’s user interface window pops up.

Client: Unspecified - Investigative mission Status: ACTIVE Authorisation: Approved entry - No Hunt Zones: 105, 106, 107, 108

Task details: High-class Linkon residents have been seen carrying protocores to Fox’s Den, a host club, on the outskirts of Linkon. There are suspicions that the club is being used as a trading venue to sell and modify high-grade protocores into the N109 zone.

Objective: INVESTIGATE Fox’s Den FOR PROTOCORE SMUGGLERS. DO NOT ENGAGE OR ELIMINATE SUSPECTS. THIS IS AN INVESTIGATION ONLY.

As you re-read the objectives, Jenna speaks once more, “Have a look through this folder before heading to the Data Sector. ” She places her hand above the folder, “Nero and Tara are waiting there with some more information for you.”

You give her a small nod, “Yes, Captain. Will do.”

You do as you’re told and flick through the contents of the folder.

“Huh, the address is near the N109 zone?” You whisper.

Sylus has a safe house near there, I think.

It’ll be easier to complete the mission if you could crash there every now and then.

I’ll ask him when I have the chance.

There’s a few photos of the club tucked into the folder and from what you can see, it’s quite luxurious.

Entering the club shouldn’t be a problem with the brooch Sylus gave me. Hmmm. I might need to visit Jeremiah some time soon to forge another identity.

You sift through a few more pages and a photo catches your eye. It’s of a blonde woman with a hunter’s uniform and badge but stamped across the page is the word ‘TENEBRA’ in bold red lettering.

“Hmmm,” You hum as you read the sticky note attached, “If encountered, detain immediately? Who is this?”

What had she done to be labelled a Tenebra?

With that thought in mind, you think to your own situation.

Your involvement with Sylus is more than enough grounds to label you a Tenebra, but you brush that thought aside quickly.

“MC?”

Your head perks up from the sound of your name and you quickly press the folder to your chest, “Oh! Tara… Nero. I was just leaving to see you guys, actually.”

“About the case, right? Isn’t it interesting?” Tara grins, “But, yes we came here instead because Nero thinks that the Data Sector is too noisy.”

“They’re blabbing about all the time, it’s dizzying.” He retorts.

He pulls a nearby chair and motions for the two of you to come around, “Come, we’ve got work to do.”

The three of you discuss the case for a while until you ask, “Why am I being sent alone? Aren’t mission usually done in pairs?”

“Yes, well… Technically, it’s only an investigative mission, so the higher-ups don’t think we should waste resources on a mere investigation.” Nero makes quotation marks with his fingers. “You’ve got orders not to engage where possible.”

Tara leans forward to argue, “But even still, Fox’s Den is surrounded by no hunt zones! Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Yes, that’s true, and speaking of which…” He opens some tabs up on his laptop, “As I’m sure you’ve seen, you’ve been approved access to all no hunt zones surrounding the area.”

You nod, looking back at your watch and also the map that spread across the table.

“But that’s not the problem.” Nero continues, “The problem is getting into the club.”

You furrow your brows, “What?” You tilt you head, “Can’t I just go in as a client?”

He clicks his tongue, “They’ve got a very specific clientele.” He says and then draws a rectangle with his fingers, “Invite only.” He emphasises. “Did you think you could just waltz into the place?Everyday?”

You tense for a moment. I thought… with the brooch...

But you can’t tell them about the brooch; They’ll ask you how you got it. So you settle with, “I- well,” you scratch your temple, “I haven’t really thought that far yet.”

...

Your meeting with the two ended just as the sun dipped completely below the horizon

Somehow, they’ve got you a position as one of the hostesses.

You huff. You don’t know a thing about being a hostess.

To be fair, being a hostess would give you the widest variety of intel.

Never had you thought you’d be going undercover like this, but the job must be done, you suppose.

You harshly tug your helmet on and head to Sylus’ safe house on your 270HM.

If he says no, then you can just scout the area on the way back home. That way, the ride there wouldn’t have been for nothing.

“Oh! There you are, little miss hunter.”

You turn around at the voice of one of the twins. “Luke, Kieran?”

“Mephisto told us you’d be here.” Kieran says pointing to the sky where Mephisto circles above the three of you.

“Is Sylus-”

Luke responds before you can finish your question, “The boss has a important business deal, but,”

“You’re more than welcome to stay with us in the meantime.” Kieran finishes the sentence as he opens the gate.

You can almost see the grin behind his mask.

“How long will he be gone?” You ask as you walk with the twins into the house.

“It might not even be until tomorrow that you’ll see the boss.”

“If you’re lucky--” Luke starts

“--I’ve checked your luck index today, miss, you’re not.”

“Kieran!” You smack him on the shoulder

“Anyway,” Luke starts again, “As I was saying, if you’re lucky, he might be done by midnight.”

…

Well now, it’s way past midnight and the boys have convinced you to play card games as you wait. From old maid, to kitty cards, to Big 2.

Eventually, they pull out another deck of cards with haphazardly drawn crows. - “We’ve invented our own version!”

Your brows furrow.

“Crow Cards!” They say in unison.

You’re speechless. You shake your head with a chuckle, but oblige them regardless.

It isn’t long before Kieran has passed out on the couch and you can tell that Luke isn’t too far either.

“Luke, why don’t we get you and your brother to sleep?” You suggest.

“Yeah,” He yawns and give you a nod, “but Kieran can sleep here on the floor.” He snorts, but goes to haul him up anyways.

“I can use one of the spare rooms, right?” You ask

“Of course. The boss has even gotten spare clothes specifically for you in every house. They should just be in the closet of the en suite.” He points to one of the doors, “That one is your room.”

It didn’t take very long after your head hit the pillows that you drifted off into a shallow sleep

Just as the sunlight begins peaking through the horizon, Sylus enters into the safehouse

Mephisto is cawing at him incessantly.

“What has you so worked up?” He frowns.

“CAW!”

Sylus walks through to the main area and sees cards strewn across the floor.

He examines them, seeing the poorly drawn crows, and looks to Mephisto, “What?” Sylus raises an eyebrow at Mephisto, “You led me here because Luke and Kieran made you look like roadkill on these cards?”

Mephisto shakes his head and pecks the cards out of Sylus’ hand. He pitter-patters to the door of the en suite and lightly pecks at it

Sylus’ frown deepens but he follows after him.

And there you were - laying on your stomach atop the sheets.

He lets out a small chuckle, “Tsk tsk, kitten,” he shakes his head, “You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

He gently turns you so he can lift you up into his arms.

With his Evol, he untucks the sheets and lays down with you in his arms.

You have your head on his chest and legs entangled with his own.

With all the movement, you lift your head blink your eyes open, “Hi.” You whisper.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, kitten.”

You plop your head back down onto his chest, “Yeah, I wanted-” you yawn, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh? You’re asking me for a favour? How unusual.”

You only hum in response and close your eyes again.

For a moment, he thinks that seeing you in the sunrise makes the sunlight a little more bearable.

“What is it that you need, sweetie?” he asks, brushing his lips against the top of your head.

“The location of my mission is near this house.”

“And?” he shoots you a smug smile, “What is it exactly that you’re asking, Dove?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m asking if I can stay here for a little while.”

He chuckles and gently swipes at the space between your brows, “Do you know what you look like right now?” he asks, “A kitten with a temper.”

You untangle yourself from his grasp, “Screw you.”

It quite futile since you end up in his arms once more.

“What mission is so important that the hunter’s association would send you into the N109 zone?” He asks.

“One,” You put your pointer finger up, “It's near the N109 zone. And two,” You lift another finger, “Apparently, there’s some shady trading of high-grade protocores.”

“Hah, when is there not?” He chuckles.

You quickly brush his question aside, “But you’ll let me stay, won’t you?” You pout for good measure.

“I never trade for a loss, dove.” He taps a finger on his temple. “What are you planning to give me in exchange?”

“Um…” You contemplate on the question. “I'll trade any protocores I find that I think may be of use to you?” Your intonation makes it sound more like a question than a statement.

“What makes you think that I don’t already have access to such protocores, sweetheart?” He shifts to lay on his side with his head propped up by his arm.

That’s true. What could you possibly offer to a man who already has everything in the palm of his hand?

You glance up at him, “Well, then… truthfully, there’s nothing I can give you.”

I guess he won’t let me stay after all.

One of the corners of his lips tilt upwards into a smirk, “There is…” he pauses as he procures a piece of paper with his Evol, “Something you can give me.”

You take the paper and frown as you read the contents, “Isn’t this that restaurant by the river? The one with the orchids?”

“Mmm.” He hums in agreement.

“What could I possibly give you there, Sylus?” You ask

He chuckles, “Well, it’s quite simple, really.” He leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I want you to stay with me… Until the moon is high above our heads”

His voice is so close to your ears that you have to turn away

“I want your time.”

A few days have gone by since your…encounter with Sylus.

Now you’re face-to-face with the owner of the club.

He has his hand grabbing the lower half of your face, turning it side to side.

You grit your teeth. Keep it together for the mission, MC. You say to yourself.

“She’ll fetch a hefty price from the clients, that’s for sure.” He chuckles

He almost throws you towards a woman who has a comb and spray bottle in hand.

“Another?” She asks

“Get her ready.” He says as he begins to walk towards the bar where the guests are, “I want her ready for service by the end of the week, Stella.”

The woman, Stella, as you’ve learned, rolls her eyes and grabs you by the arm.

She drags you across to one of the clothing racks and pulls various clothes up to your body. She takes some off, and others she returns.

Your eyes wander as you stay still, and for a brief moment, you see a blonde woman in a red dress, strutting towards the exit.

“Tenebra?” You mumble

“What?” Stella raises her brow.

“Huh? Oh, I was asking If I’ll need to wear a bra.” You gulp hoping she’ll believe your cover-up

She stares at you for a moment but then continues to find you a dress.

After a while, she’s finished with your make up and has given you a run-down of the rules.

“For tonight, you’ll be staying with me.” She says as she walks towards the exit

You scramble after her. You barely catch yourself from bumping into her as she abruptly turns around to address you.

“Keep close and don’t wander. Do you understand?”

You nod, “Yes.”

She wraps a red band across your wrist with ease, “This bracelet means that you’re off limits for the mean time.” She grips your wrist and squeezes, “So I suggest you keep it on your wrist even if your life depends on it. You won’t have this luxury for long.”

What have I gotten myself into?

You spend that night observing each and every one of the hostesses and clients.

Memorising faces, names, voices. Anything.

As the week ends, you’re back at the safe house trying to piece all the information you have so far.

You’re hunched over the coffee table with papers scattered about. Some of which you’ve scrunched up and have unintentionally made into Mephisto’s playthings.

You huff.

Everything looks normal, but clearly that’s not the case if HA has sent you here. They wouldn’t have sent you here if there wasn’t some concrete evidence of a covert operation.

Sylus stops cleaning his gun and smiles as you frown. The bastard.

You huff once more and rub your temples.

“You look as if you’re going into a grand battle.” He chuckles and leans back into the sofa.

“I feel like I’ve gotten nowhere!” You throw your hands into the air.

He carefully returns the gun to it’s case and settles himself on the floor next to you, “Talk to me.” He pulls the pen from your hands and spreads the papers across the table, “We can figure it out together.” He glances at you with the smallest of smiles.

A couple of weeks have gone by and you’ve gotten better at acting as a hostess.

You find that a lot of these clients have a very loose lips - ever so willing to give information with so little incentive

Today, you’re cozied up with a client, your legs in their lap, and an arm wrapped around one of theirs.

You grin internally as he continues to talk about all the protocores he could offer you.

“Oh?” You say sultrily, drawing circles on his arm.

YUCK

“Oh, I do, baby.”

EUUUGHHH

You’re trying your best to suppress a scowl.

“I could give you all -”

You glance up at him as he stops mid-sentence.

Your gaze shifts from his face to the mirror behind him where your eyes meet Sylus’s intense gaze.

What is he going here?

Sylus nonchalantly walks over to the two of you and the room has gone still.

“And who might this be, sweetie?” He glowers at the man, but his question is directed to you.

You open your mouth to reply, but the man beat you to it, “Mr Sylus, I’m-”

"I didn’t ask you.” He says sharply.

“Sylus, what are you doing here?” Your grip around the man loosens and you quickly shift your legs to plant your heels on the floor.

“Well… Sweetie.” He emphasises the endearment as he pulls you from the other man’s lap, “I’m here for you,” He pulls you to his chest

Without another word, he tugs you into one of the private rooms.

With the momentum, you fall to the loveseat in the middle of the room.

“Sylus!”

“When you said you had a mission here, I assumed you were going in as a client.” He locks the door and makes his way to you, “Not a hostess.” He narrows his eyes as he traps you between his outstretched arms on the loveseat.

“Why does it matter?” You glare back at him, “I’m still getting the information I need.”

“You realise that I could get you all that information in the blink of an eye, right?”

You know that. You do. He never lets you forget. Head of Onychinus. King of the N109 zone.

But what does that say about you?

Always relying on someone else to do things.

Always relying on Xavier on missions. Even Rafayel helped you at The Nest. Zayne’s always taking care of your health, and now Sylus, too.

When had you ever truly done anything yourself?

You grit your teeth, “Look.” You say as you muster up all your courage to glare at him, “I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.” You push at his chest, “I can do this on my own.”

He yields as you push him until both of you are standing.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,” You say.

Tenebra - the word plants itself at the forefront of your mind

His chest heaves as he looks at you, but he doesn’t speak.

“What am I supposed to say to the association?” You walk towards the door but look back at him with a soft smile, “They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember? We can’t have that now, can we?”

He takes a hold of your wrist. “You know I’d never let that happen.”

“Mmm.” You shake your head, “I know, but even then… I want to be able to proudly say that I was able to do a mission with my own strength.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you shrug your hand away from his hold.

“So,” You place you hand on the door knob, “Let me do this on my own, Sylus.”

As you leave, he deflates onto the loveseat with a sigh.

As much as it stings that you don’t want to rely on him, he understands what you’re trying to say.

You’ve gone many days without seeing Sylus, not even at the safe house.

At the host club, you return to your dressing room with the brightest smile, you’d think your face would split in half.

That drunk client spilled all the beans. They are smuggling protocores through this host club. He mentioned a warehouse south from here, in the no hunt zone. Luckily Jenna authorised your entry into that zone. You’ll have to check it out after you leave the club.

As you exit, your watch beeps, “Huh? Wanderers? This far from the no hunt zone?”

Your hands settle at the hilts of your hands guns strapped to either thigh.

With vigilant eyes, you scan your surroundings. Trees upon trees in every direction.

Taking soft and steady steps, you head deeper into the no hunt zone.

Eventually you see lights scattered throughout the tree line.

There’s a large building stood in the centre of the clearing.

As you walk closer, you hear voices. “The warehouse.” you whisper.

Then a truck whizzes past and you duck for fear of getting caught.

It drives far into the warehouse and you follow around to get a clearer view.

They seem like specs from this distance, but they’re unloading the protocores from the truck.

The impatient part of you screams to just sneak into the warehouse.

But that fire is quickly extinguished when you notice a few men patrolling the warehouse.

“I need to come back another time. With a plan.”

The next few days you observe the schedules and their protocol for receiving deliveries

You manage to sneak your way into one of the trucks as your shift ends at the host club.

In the truck, you’re shallowly breathing from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You close your eyes to take a deep breath as the truck slows to a stop.

“This is the last one for today, boys. Let’s do this quick!” You hear a man shout.

Your hand comes up to press at your sternum. Your heart is beating right out of your chest so much so that blood is thumping in your ears.

“You think we’ve got some aether cores to sell today?”

“Tch, I wish.”

As their footsteps grow louder, you take a slow breath-

BEEP BEEP!

You gasp as your hunter’s watch detects wanderers nearby. You grasp at your wrist to dampen the noise. Hunching over, cradling your arm as it beeps again.

STOP! Please!

“What was that?”

What do I do? I’m going to get caught.

“Check it out.”

Think. Think.

From their footsteps, you can tell one of the men has walked into the truck.

THINK!

You don’t have a choice.

With a grunt, you charge at the man, shooting him in the chest, before hauling his body to cover yours as you exit the vehicle.

“INTRUDER!” the other man yells. “INTRUDER! LOCK EVERYTHING DOWN.”

Sirens blare as shots are fired in your direction. One lodges itself into your thigh. With a scream you dump the body shield and limp as best as you can out of the crossfire.

Another shot whizzes past the side of your arm. Another into your lower abdomen as you turn to shoot at them.

Before you make it to the forest, a loud roar shakes the ground and you stumble onto all fours.

A wanderer. A Hoarfrost Wyrmlord, you recognise.

It stomps it’s way towards the warehouse, likely drawn in by all the noise.

You scramble away as best as you can, but behind you are the men from the warehouse.

Your breaths have become rapid and shallow, “Where…”

The Wyrmlord locks onto you, blowing out gusts of air from it’s nostrils.

You begin shooting at the Wyrmlord but it looks unphased.

You duck for cover as it shoot icicles your way.

Protocores. You think. “You must have a shield somewhere.” you say as you peak over the metal pillar.

“You!” A foreign voice takes your attention.

The man has his gun pointed to you.

Swiftly, you kick your leg out in an attempt to disarm him, but he catches it and kicks at your other leg so that you land face first into the dirt.

For a few moments, you wrestle him until he’s got you in a choke hold.

You elbow him in his side and as his grip loosens you try to swing him over your shoulder.

But he uses the momentum to kick off of the pillar, and the action flings you backwards, and your back hits the ground with a thud.

You grunt and struggle to stand.

Before you can shoot him, a Harte Knave slashes through him.

Just as quickly, your bullets pierce though the Harte Knave and it disintegrates in dust.

Another roar shakes the ground as you and many others are pulled into a protofield.

“No!” You scream.

“Sylus!” You yell into the air.

Hoping, praying that he just might appear out of thin air.

...

“CAW!”

Meanwhile, Sylus is seated in another safehouse.

His leg is bouncing up and down.

You should have returned to the safe house hours ago, but there has been no notification of your arrival from the security system.

For every centimetre the moon rose into the sky, so did his worry.

“I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.”

Your words echoed around in his mind for the past few hours.

“I can do this on my own.”

He knows that. You’re strong. He’s seen it.

“They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember?“

Tch.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,”

But something was wrong.

His intuition never failed him.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Mephisto.” Sylus quickly stands and stretches his hand out for Mephisto to land on.

A holographic video pops up and Sylus sees you dropping the lifeless body and limping away into the tree line.

The screen flickers for a moment as you scream his name before you disappear into the protofield.

Even before the video ends, Sylus is rushing out to his motorcycle. He pulls up the coordinates from Mephisto’s previous location history and speeds away.

Why did I leave her by herself? Near the N109 zone nonetheless. I’m a fool.

In the protofield, the Wyrmlord is the last wanderer.

There are only a few other humans left and luckily, the Wyrmlord is beginning to stagger too.

You’ve managed to break it’s shields but you’re heavily wounded and the Wyrmlord has caused the temperature to drop so rapidly that it’s difficult to even pull the trigger.

Sylus… Please…

You know he can’t just appear into a protofield. But somehow his name on your lips gives you enough strength to continue the fight.

Out of desperation, you’ve managed to resonate with some of the Evolvers.

And with great effort, you and another Evolver deal the final blow to the Wyrmlord and you’re transported back to the warehouse.

Sirens are still blaring and the edges of your vision are fading.

“Sylus.” You whisper walking away from the warehouse.

You grunt as you slump against a sturdy tree.

The shards of ice that were lodged into your stomach have vanished along with the protofield and now your blood has begun to soak through your clothing.

With a few harsh tugs, you rip your sleeve off and press it against your wounds.

Everything hurts, but you try to slow your breathing.

Your watch beeps once more.

The adrenaline causes you to perk up at the thought of more wanderers.

WARNING! Critically low blood pressure - severe blood loss. Coordinates have been sent to the nearest Hunter’s Association field lab.

When you wake next, the room is too bright for your eyes to adjust.

You blink and raise a hand to your face to block the light.

Glancing around, you notice it’s like any other bedroom.

You groan as you sit up.

Looking down at yourself, you see the faint outline of multiple gauze pads from underneath your top.

You limp out of the room, using the wall to take most of your weight.

You flinch as you feel a tap on your shoulder, hands immediately going to where your guns would have been.

“Relax, Kitten.” Sylus says, with both his hands up in the air, “I’m just trying to help you.” He begins to lower his hands.

“Sylus…” You croak from the dryness of your throat.

You could do nothing but stare. Was this real?

You were hyperventilating a little, and he’s never really seen you so high-strung.

“You’re safe.” He says as he slowly cups the side of your face.

“Sylus… I…”

He lowers his forehead to yours and you visibly relax.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart.” He repeats the phrase as he gathers you into his chest.

“I won’t let you go ever again.” He whispers. “Never again.”

I told you it was long XD. I had fun though. If you guys like it, I don't mind fully fleshing this out into chapters. I really enjoyed writing this one actually.

|| Masterlist ||

-Seven

[unknown171204]

Les Misérables 1980

I have already talked about Les Misérables , but I wanted to expand on the subject a little more, by detailing the three French versions as best I can !!

This strange idea of ​​adapting Victor Hugo's novel into a musical came from Alain Boublil after he attended a performance of the musical Oliver! play in London ( he reports having perceived in his mind a resemblance between Oliver Twist and Gavroche )

Carried away by what he considers (rightly) as a flash of genius, he will work in collaboration with Claude-Michel Schönberg and Jean-Marc Natel to compose the music and lyrics for the future album

Fortunately the album will experience its small success with the public, this victory will make the creators grow wings who will launch head first into the torrent of stage creation !

This heavy task will be entrusted to Robert Hossein , an French director, actor, screenwriter, dialogue writer , who will use his fame to the best of his ability to promote the show (which he would be criticized for and mocked , trample his enthusiasm)

The very first production of Les Misérables was created and then performed in Paris at the Palais des Sports in September 1980

Scheduled for a minimum of eight weeks, it will be played for sixteen weeks, with the Palais des sports no longer available beyond that With 107 performances, it attracted around 500,000 spectators

( I don't know how it works in the United Kingdom and the United States at the same time but in France it will be necessary to reach the end of the 90s for the musicals to travel throughout the country + outside of France )

DISTRIBUTION :

Maurice Barrier : Jean Valjean

Jean Vallée : Javert

Rose Laurens : Fantine

Yvan Dautin : Mr Thénardier

Marie-France Roussel : Mrs Thénardier

Maryse Cédolin / Sylvie Camacho / Priscilla Patron : little Cosette

( alternately the little girls also played little Eponine and Azelma )

Fabienne Guyon : Cosette

Marianne Mille : Éponine

Cyrille Dupont / Fabrice Ploquin / Florence Davis : Gavroche

Gilles Buhlmann : Marius

Christian Ratellin : Enjolras

René-Louis Baron : Combeferre

Dominique Tirmont : Mr Gillenormand

Anne Forrez : Mrs Gillenormand

Claude Reva : Storyteller

There remain too few archives of the original shows, unfortunately at the time filming in theaters and performance halls was not a common reflex ...

I did my best to find as much as possible :

Unreleased Javert song, not kept in the album and show ⤵️

The Full Live Recording of the Show :

ANECDOTES :

If I'm not mistaken, this is the only version that uses the character of Azelma , the sister of Eponine and Gavroche

...

Cyrille Dupont, one of the three kids who played Gavroche, was known vocally for singing the theme song for Nobody's Boy : Remi

...

Florence Davis one of three actors playing Gavroche was a girl ?!

Strange artistic choice ? Or last-rescue liner ??

...

Robert Hossein was so marked by this show that two years later, he made a film adaptation of the original novel !!

Starring the legend Lino Ventura as Jean Valjean and the very young Emmanuel Curtil as Gavroche (this little boy is today an ICONIC voice actor in France : Jim Carrey, Mike Myers, Matthew Perry and many many others characters )

The Full Movie :

You can find the 1991 version and other French musicals on my Masterlist :

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, strippers,

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Tony expressed his concerns about you going on this mission.

A/N: When Tony Met Pocket!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

Boston, 2002

The bass inside the club was pounding, reverberating through the air and your skull as you made your way onto the floor. The day had already been unbearably long, and after your shift tonight, you still had a mountain of reading to do for your Introduction to Data Structures and Algorithms class. But, MIT courses didn’t come cheap, even at two classes a semester, and you needed every penny you could make from your shifts at Beantown Burlesque. It would make more sense, financially, to work a club closer to the college, but the idea of running into any of your classmates or, god forbid, your professors, made the extra time and money you spent commuting from Cambridge to inner Boston completely worth it. 

Not that you expected a lot of tips tonight. It would have been better if you’d been scheduled to work the stage before they sent you to the floor; you were always requested for more lap dances after the patrons had seen you work the pole. You’d just have to work your ass off to entice a couple of lonely men into the VIP booth. But that always came with the additional task of fighting off requests for additional “services.” You may have been desperate for cash, but you were quite done with having your body sold for money, thank you.

You made your way over to the bar, hoping to get some intel on tonight’s patrons so you could shoot your best shot. 

“How’s it goin’ tonight, Cherry Pie?” the bartender, Mac, asked, using the pseudonym you’d chosen for your stage name when you started at the club a year ago. 

“No complaints yet, Mac,” you said, gratefully accepting the glass of water he offered you– it was important to stay hydrated, after all, “but then again, the night is very young.”

Mac let out a gruff laugh as he wiped down a glass. “You’re too young to be so cynical, Cherr,” he said.

You shrugged. That was an understatement. “Any good prospects tonight?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bartop.

Mac nodded his chin toward a group of young men sitting close to the stage. “That group over there’s racked up a pretty big tab so far. Think they’re from the MIT alumni conference.” That piqued your interest. Beantown Burlesque might not be the ideal place to network, but you’d honestly take whatever you could get.

“They seem decent enough?” you asked Mac.

“About as decent as any group of blokes that come here,” he offered. “But they’ve been pretty respectful so far; no one’s tried to put hands anywhere they shouldn’t.”

“Good enough for me,” you told him. With a parting wave, you sauntered over to the group, making sure to put some extra sway in your hips. As you approached, you surveyed the collection of men. They all seemed to be centering their focus on one man in particular– he was dark haired with a goatee and wearing a pair of tinted glasses and looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place where you might have seen him before. You clocked his expensive loafers and custom Armani suit, and the way the others around him laughed a little too loudly at what he was saying. 

That’s the one, you thought to yourself. He had the money. If you were going to make your rent on time this month, he was the one you’d need to impress.

“You boys fancy some company tonight?” you asked once you approached the group. The man with the goatee leaned forward, a sure sign of interest, and looked at you over the lens of his glasses.

“Well, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk, “we're not ones to turn down an offer for good companionship, especially from someone as captivating as you. But let's be real, the question is whether you can keep up with us. Think you're ready for the challenge?”

Oh, this one was cocky. You could work with that. You trailed your fingertips along the tops of his shoulders as you made your way around to the table in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up the double shot of whiskey sitting there and downed the entire thing in one swig without flinching.

The other men in the group whooped and hollered at your display, but the man with the goatee just studied you with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.

“You can call me Cherry Pie,” you said as you began swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers. 

“I didn’t ask what they call you here,” he said, leaning back as you put your hands on his shoulder and began swaying in between his legs. “I asked for your name.”

“You haven’t spent nearly enough to earn that, honey,” you said as you gyrated. 

The man laughed at that, then, reaching for his wallet, pulled out a handful of crisp, one hundred dollar bills. He gently tucked them into the waistband of your bottoms. “How’s that?”

You looked at the bills tucked into your underwear. By your guess, there was about eight hundred dollars there. You just might make rent, after all. “It’s a start,” you shrugged, beginning your tried and true lap dance routine.

One of the other men in the group let out a loud laugh. “She’s sure got your number, Stark!”

At the name, your eyes shot to the man with the goatee’s face, and it suddenly clicked for you. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “You’re Tony Stark.”

Stark smiled. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”

“Your company’s network security sucks ass,” you told him, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”

Fuck. “Uh, nothing, sorry. Forget I said anything.” You put a renewed vigor back into your dance.

“Um, no.” Stark said, grasping your wrist firmly enough to encourage you to stop dancing, but gently enough to let you know he posed you no threat. “I want to hear how a stripper knows the faults of my network security.”

You blushed at that. “I, uh, may have broken in the back door and temporarily held your system hostage for ten minutes last May,” you confessed.

“That was you?” Stark exclaimed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded… impressed. “You paralyzed our entire operation!”

“Yeah… sorry about that.” Well, you could kiss any further tips goodbye, that was for sure.

“Why’d you relinquish control back to us?” he asked. “You could have held it for ransom; we would have paid whatever you asked for.”

Huh. You had never even considered doing that. “Well, um, actually, I did it as part of a final project? For my Engineering Ethics and Professionalism course at MIT?”

Stark cocked his head at you. “With Erickson?” You nodded, and Stark actually laughed. “He still a narcissistic son of a bitch?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Sexist, too. He nearly shat a brick when he had to watch a mere girl bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees.”

Stark laughed, heartily. “I’ll bet he did! What I wouldn’t have given to see his face!”

“I set up a camera to record it,” you told him. “I can make you a copy of the VHS, if you want. I needed to capture the moment for posterity.”

From there, the atmosphere and your position in the group shifted. You were no longer the entertainment. Tony (he insisted you call him that) invited you to join him as his equal, and for the next several hours, he picked your brain, testing your knowledge and asking you questions about yourself, much to the displeasure of the rest of his group. One by one, they departed, until it was just the two of you. You were having the time of your life. You figured you’d never again have the opportunity to sit back and just hang out with such an icon of the tech community, and you were going to make the most of it. Now, here you were playing a game of Never Have I Ever.

“Never have I ever sheared a sheep,” Tony said with a grin.

“Why, Mr. Stark,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips (you failed to mention that, technically, you weren’t legally old enough to drink), “you haven’t truly lived until you’ve shorn the raw wool from an unwilling ewe.”

“You’re shitting me,” Tony said, laughing.

You took the glass from your lips without drinking. “You got me,” you told him. I grew up in Dayton. Not a whole lotta opportunities for sheep shearing there.”

A mischievous glint came into Tony’s eyes. “Your shift’s got to be almost over,” he said. “What do you say, Cherry Pie? Wanna go shear a sheep?”

“(Y/N),” you told him. “My name’s (Y/N), and I would fucking love to.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[boofinator]

can i request your buttons pngs all in a single post?

i fear that post would be HUGE.. definitely a daunting task.

however, i can put a link to every post with a button/badge in it! sorry for being lazy :/ ENJOY!!

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[even-more-epic-amphinomus]

Oh, the smell of wine and recently cooked flesh was almost divine. Almost.

It had become customary to be tended by the queen's many servants. After all, the laws of hospitality mandated it. It was the treatment that guests seeking the queen's hand in sacred matrimony deserved — and by that, he meant that most of them wanted the crown. And he included himself in that crowd. Sure, the queen undeniably had her charms, but… no offense, the lady was already old. It wasn't as if he was particularly charmed by the idea of marrying her. Which didn't matter. His pride suffered of a certain.. bruising at the idea of having to compete against 107 idiots who thought they were even close to his level. That wasn't true. All those animals were like lambs chasing a shepherd. They couldn't seem to think for themselves.

Though, some of them were fine. Just relevant enough for him to 'befriend' them. Such as the prince of Dulichium. Now, he wasn't particulary fond of the guy. But he was aware of his influence upon politics. So, he had tried to keep the man close, for lack of a better word.

"Hey, Amphinomus!"

Antinous called out as he sat at the head of the table, a plate of fresh meat laying before him along with a cup of the finest wine the servants had allowed him to drink. Sure, it hadn't been the easiest task. Everyone could be persuaded, though. Including men of honor. Oh, the mere thought made him lick his lips, letting the flesh of his own tongue brush against his canines to keep him grounded. He couldn't allow himself to daydream at the moment. Not now.

"Wouldn't you like to supper, your highness? You look rather.. hungry, if I may say."

– @antinous-thefutureking

... what are you offering Red? *he looks at the man skeptically. To be completely honest he almost thought that was flirting. But either way he knew Antinous was planning something*

[the-eternal-child]

Xaden 'I'm not soft or kind' Riorson, took responsibility for the 107 rebellion kids to save them from execution and give them a chance in the riders quadrant. That's already a pretty big task to shoulder that I think speaks volumes of his character.

But then he goes a step further, risking getting caught, by having them all meet to figure out how they're doing and how he can help so they have the best chance of surviving to graduation.

SQUEEEEEEEEE!!! Are you kidding meeee?! Mr. 'Please don't mistake me for soft or kind' 🙄.

You already saved their lives, you don't have to tutor them and look after them to such great risk as well. I'm imagining they meet up like once a month to check in with each other.

The gravity of that gesture just struck me full in the chest! 😭❤️

[shyjusticewarrior]

The Duality of Jason and Dick

[waywardsuniverses]

OC No. 4 - Harper "Tiger" Anderson

Age: 32

Task Force: 107 – International Ops

Role: Older sister figure

Skills: Hacking, creating malware, technological infiltration

Weapons:

Allies: Isaiah, Kanan, Gaz, Price

Partner: Jedda

Gender: Non-binary (fem leaning)

Sexuality: Lesbian  

Nationality: Australian

Height: 6’0

Traits: Feisty, ready to pick a fight (within reason), protective to an almost suffocating degree (even with Kit)

Hobbies: Kickboxing, sewing

Rank: Lieutenant

Special clothing: Headphones for her gear

Scars: Arm scars from a kidnapping incident, stretch marks on her legs

Tattoos: Chest tattoo – abstract star, upper arm - leaf vine  

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 4 - Blood of the Dragon

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, eventual Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: none, it's actually a really cute chapter imo, there's like one swear word

Masterlist

"Nobody truly knows what happened when young Daena entered the cave of the Bronze Fury. We can only speculate as to what happened. What we do know is that in the early hours of the next day, the local smallfolk of Dragonstone heard a deafening roar and witnessed the great bronze beast flying alongside the shore. On his back was the little Princess. It is said she flew over the entire Gullet and some say Vermithor's song was heard as far south as Massey's Hook.

Her absence was only noticed when one of the maids tasked with waking her up realized the Princess was missing from her room. The entire castle was in an uproar. Daemon was furious and swore he would mount the head of every man who failed to find her. To his relief, she was found on one of the cliffs near the castle, and next to her was the dragon of the Old King. She was petting and kissing him like he was a giant cat and to everyone's surprise, the dragon seemed to enjoy it. She would forever be known as Daena the Audacious."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

107 AC, Dragonstone

Daemon was woken up by someone obnoxiously banging on his door. "WHAT?" He yelled, annoyed. A young maid came in quickly, the one that was assigned to Daena. 

"M-my Prince..." She stuttered, terrified of further angering the Rogue Prince. 

"Spit it out, woman! What happened?" He yelled. 

"P-Princess Daena...she's g-gone. She's not in her b-bed chambers..." She managed to say.

"WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S GONE!?" Daemon jumped out of bed, dismissed the girl, and quickly got dressed. He walked out into the hallway and started barking out orders. 

"If you don't find her, I'll mount all of your fucking heads on a spike! Do you understand me!? " He yelled, furious. 

The entire castle was on its feet, trying to find the missing princess. Every guard, every maid, every single servant was looking for her. "Where could she have possibly gone?" Daemon murmured as he gripped the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister, his anger rising by the second.

He was currently in her bed chambers, looking to see if there were any signs of a fight or if she was forcibly taken. Nothing like that was found. Besides a messy bed, everything was fine...except the riding suit she came in and her boots. 

"She must have slipped out during the night, unnoticed." Maester Gerardys said. Daemon sighed and pinched his nose. Then, high above the castle, a thunderous roar could be heard.

"My Prince! It's the Princess! She...she's with Vermithor!" A guard informed Daemon, who was sprinting down the castle toward the main gate. This news stopped Daemon in his tracks. 

"What did you just say?" Daemon asked, not believing his ears. 

"She..she flew on Vermithor." The guard repeated. Daemon laughed, not caring for what anyone might say. 

"My brave little girl..." He said with the biggest smile on his face. He then ran outside of the castle. What he saw next would become one of his favorite memories ever. 

Daena's POV

Daena has never felt happier. She was flying on the back of the second-largest dragon in the world. After singing him the lullaby her father always sang to her, she experienced something she only ever dreamed of - she bonded with a dragon. And not just any dragon - Vermithor the Bronze Fury was now her mount and she his rider. They flew over the entire Gullet and if Daena was correct, even flew over the island of Driftmark. She didn't have time to fasten the belts on the saddle so she was holding on for dear life. At one point a flock of seagulls almost hit her in the face, had she not ducked down. 

She didn't know how to feel, or what to think. Her heart was full of joy and pride, for she had finally become a dragon rider, just like her father. Excitement was flowing through her veins, her dragon blood singing with happiness. It was cold and windy, but she felt nothing but the warmth that radiated off of Vermithor. She held tightly to the handles in front of her. All she could see was the sea beneath her and the stars above her. This is what freedom feels like, she thought as they flew even higher above the clouds. 

Once the sun began to rise, she thought it was about time to head back. Vermithor complied with her wishes and headed back for Dragonstone. In what felt like no time, she could see the outlines of the island. Vermithor circled the island one more time and with a mighty roar landed on one of the cliffs near the castle. From atop Vermithor, she could see many people running toward her: guards, dragon keepers, and...her father. She sighed and climbed down the ropes. Once her feet hit the ground she was met with the stern lilac eyes of her father. 

"Skoros lo ao morghūltan? Ao dovodedha riña...Ao drējī issi ñuha tala." (What if you died? You silly girl...you truly are my daughter) He said with the biggest smile Daena had ever seen.

"Are you upset with me?" Daena asked carefully. 

"What? No! I...I am so proud of you, my love. I have never been prouder!" He told her sincerely and hugged her tightly. Daena could feel that he was being honest. 

~

Daemon has never been prouder in his life. He has never been happier, besides the day Daena was born. His little girl claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. He felt like the proudest father in the world! But he knew what Daena did wasn't right and it needed reprimanding. In the privacy of Daena's room, he sat her down on her bed. He looked at her and saw the biggest smile on her face. 

"My sweet girl, what you did was brave...and foolish." He started and saw the smile disappear from her face. 

"I want you to know that I'm proud of you and you have proved to everyone the strength of Targaryen blood, but you shouldn't have gone out alone. You could've been killed! What would I do then, hmmm?"  He continued and she looked down, embarrassed.

"What would I do without my favorite girl? You're my everything, you know that? I would pluck the stars from the sky if it meant you were happy. But you mustn't be so reckless, do you understand?" He asked as he lifted her chin with his finger. She nodded, refusing to look at him. 

"Jurnegon rȳ nyke." (Look at me.) He told her. She looked up at him with glossy eyes. Her lip trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks. 

"Iksan vaoreznuni Kepa. Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skoros māstan toliot nyke." (I am sorry Father. I don't know what came over me.) She said quietly. He wiped the tears from her face. 

"Don't cry, sweet girl. I do want you to be happy but I also want you to be safe. No more running around without my permission. Understood?" He asked again. She nodded and sniffled. 

"Now. You will go and take a bath and then we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?" He asked softly. 

"It sounds wonderful. Thank you, Father."  She replied with a smile. 

After taking a bath and dressing in a simple silk dress in a pretty shade of dark red, her hair was braided by one of the maids. She was escorted to her father's personal bed chambers. There he was, looking out of the window while holding Dark Sister in his hands. 

"Father." She calls, and he turns. He smiles at her and tells her to sit down. She does and they start eating. He asked her about how she got into the caves and how she bonded with Vermithor. She answered all his questions to the best of her abilities. Once they were done with the food, Daemon beckoned her over.

"I'll have to teach you how to control him, how to talk to him, how to fly." He says to her as he caresses her cheek. She smiles. 

"I would love that. Thank you, Father, for being so understanding", and with that, she left to further explore her ancestral home. 

Daena walked around the castle with no particular goal in mind. She walked through the meandering halls and came upon a great stone door. She carefully pushed the door and the sight in front of her took her breath away. 

"The throne room..." she whispered to herself as her eyes fell upon the magnificent throne that was cut into a giant slab of stone. She slowly walked across the room. The room was bathed in the faint light of the late morning. No one else was present and the only thing that could be heard were the slow footsteps of the princess. 

"Would it be treason to sit on the throne?" Daena thought as she eyed the throne. She approached the throne, standing on the staircase that led to it. "It looks more comfortable than the Iron Throne, that's for certain" she mused.  She was about to touch it, but at the last second, she pulled her hand away.

Instead, she turned her head left and saw an archway leading to another room. She followed it and came upon a room with a beautiful balcony and sea view. There were dragon carvings on the wall, a table, and some chairs in the middle of the room. She leaned her elbows against the balcony and looked at the waves below. "I could live here..." she thought as a light breeze kissed her skin. 

---

High Valyrian:

Skoros lo ao morghūltan? - What if you died?

Ao dovodedha riña...Ao drējī issi ñuha tala - You silly girl...you truly are my daughter

Jurnegon rȳ nyke. - Look at me. 

Iksan vaoreznuni Kepa. - I am sorry Father. 

Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skoros māstan toliot nyke. - I don't know what came over me. 

***

Little Daena is finally a dragon rider! Daemon is ofc, the proudest dad in the whole of Westeros. Next chapter we'll see how the other characters react to the news.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

[zodiacoracle]

Houseki no Kuni ch.107 spoiler

A flashback in chapter 31, Sensei teaching the recently born Phos:

Chapter 107, the rocks and the final piece of original Phos:

"It's moving..." "That is -- our youngest sibling." "Yeah." "That's right." "Very true." "Heard it. A kind sound." "So cute." "Our youngest sibling."

"Let's all take good care of it."

Yep, this parallel is having its grip on me. Pitapat is sobbing and so am I. Also couldn't help noticing how the gems immediately placed an expectation on Phos ("will they fight?"), but the rocks instead expressed how they will love them. Goddammit.

(Just for the record I don't think the gem was being mean on purpose for asking that question, nonchalantly even. But it did show how the structure of their society and way of life had shaped their line of thinking, where everyone was expected to have a task, contribute something, and fighting off Lunarians was a Big Deal that almost everything revolved around.)

The commentary line in the final page was the cherry on top:

初めからみんながいる。“末っ子”フォスフォフィライトはひとりじゃない。 Together with everyone since the beginning. Phosphophyllite, the youngest child, isn't alone.

[dufferpuffer]

~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 2: Social Perception of Werewolves.

Looking at Lycanthropy (all parts)

Words: Approx. 8000

Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself)

PRISONER OF AZKABAN

Chapter 5 (In the last part, we saw that he was constantly described physically as being pale, ill, exhausted, grey-haired... but I omitted his other constant description: Shabby.)

pg 59 The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes which had been darned in several places.

Darning is to mend holes with stitches, creating a patch out of thread. This is a really nice image, alongside the lettering on his case: He has meticulously darned the holes in his robes. He has put his name on his case. He looks shabby – but full of effort and delicate care for detail, gaining skills to make do with what he has.

pg 60 'Well, I hope he's up to it,' said Ron doubtfully: 'He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway ...' he turned to Harry, 'what were you going to tell us?'

Chapter 7

pg 99 He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

Chapter 8

Notes: His clothes are really not up to par with how shabby, patched and frayed they are.

pg 107 'Look at the state of his robes,' Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. 'He dresses like our old house-elf.' But nobody else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed.

Chapter 9

Notes: Werewolf identification is common knowledge, likely for safety reasons Secondary Notes: Possible Remus has been avoiding the topic of werewolves, holding the class back to not reach it

pg 128/129 'Are you telling me that professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between–' … … 'Silence!' snarled Snape. 'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are...' … … 'Very poorly explained... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this an eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it a three...'

It is common knowledge for magical folk, thirteen and over, to recognise werewolves. They're well understood – perhaps considered a likely danger, important to understand. Example: If you are out gathering ingredients on the Full Moon, or brewing a potion under its light, or simply traveling... you need to be able to tell a werewolf from a true wolf at a glance – so you know what spells to cast - whether to stay or run. Also – unless Snape is being hyperbolic and expecting far too much of the class – Lupin may be holding the class back intentionally so that he didn't reach werewolves, avoiding the topic for his own sake.

Chapter 10

Pg 139 Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.'Don't worry, I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'

Lupin is happy the kids haven't done their essay. Rather than extending the due date, or shortening the length, or doing anything that encourages learning – he cancels the entire task.

Pg 147 Harry squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth-years and saw a sign hanging in the furthest corner of the shop ('Unusual Tastes'). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops. Harry sneaked up behind them. 'Urgh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect,' Hermione was saying.

Nothing to do with Lycanthropy – but I found this interesting: Honeydukes stocks lollies made for Vampires. Hermione might be wrong – maybe they're even for werewolves too – but the only Vampire we meet is introduced with some respect. Vampires are a topic that deserves its own meta-thingy, like this – but it is interesting that a 'Being' that is so dangerous, feared and possibly parasitic to Humanity is accepted enough to have lollipops! Is it a class thing...? There are ancient and powerful families of Vampires – while Werewolves tend to be Wizards-made-poor?

Chapter 12

pg 183 'They call it the Dementors' Kiss,' said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. ... 'He deserves it,' he said suddenly. 'You think so?' said Lupin lightly. 'Do you really think anyone deserves that?'

Remus seems to have strong feelings on the Kiss. He insinuates he doesn't believe anyone deserves it, through his calm and vague manner. Could just be his moral standing on the issue? His father studied them – maybe he just thinks they're awful. But consider, as a werewolf, he could face Azkaban with one misstep. I wonder if he dwells on that often.

Chapter 21 Notes: Werewolf and Murderer are suggested to the Minister with relatively equal weight. 'Werewolves are so mistrusted … his support will count for very little.' - given more weight than the fact he and Sirius are old friends.

pg 283 "Consider, Minister: against all school rules - after all the precautions put in place for his protection - out of bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer - and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally, too -'

'Werewolf' and 'Murderer' are given relatively equal weighting. Both are 'monsters', I suppose.

pg 287 'Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little - and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends -'

I didn't put this in the previous part: Just the small fact werewolves cannot talk when transformed. Seems obvious, but it's good to have confirmation.

Chapter 22

Notes: Lower your voice when talking about werewolves. Anyone would expect it'll send you packing. Lupin doesn't think the social backlash worth fighting, nor the danger worth mitigating. He failed once – and cannot trust himself a second time.

pg 308 'Blimey, haven' yeh heard?' said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. 'Er - Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'... thought everyone'd know by now... Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose in the grounds las' night. He's packin' now, o' course.'

Note: Hagrid is a Half-Giant, hated just as much if not more than a werewolf – when he made a 'mistake' he was expelled and his wand shattered. He is sympathetic to Remus but understanding of the reality of needing to go. He isn't being callous here at all.

pg 309 'This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents - they will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you... that must never happen again.'

Lupin confirms that he cannot control himself when transformed. He see's himself, and his failure, as a true danger that is not worth trying to mitigate.

~~~ ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

Chapter 3

pg 47 Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Harry had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back through his shock.

He is tired, he is ill, he is grey and he is shabby. More than that: Even shabbier than they were over a year ago. He has patched them more – are they the same clothes?!?

Chapter 5

pg 94 “And I’m not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community,” said Lupin. “It’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.”

He's being a little cheeky – but its clear he accepts his fate: people won't like him. He is lucky some of the community accepts him.

Chapter 9

Notes: Werewolf segregation laws exist.

pg 170/171 Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights. “I mean, it’s the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn’t it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they’re superior to other creatures..."

We don't get to see Lupin's reaction to this – but it's likely more nuanced than Hermione's assumptions, especially considering Remus' 'acceptance' of his situation. Hermione see's the plight of werewolves as similar to the plight of House-Elves... well-meaning, but false, and insensitive to both House-Elves and people with Lycanthropy. Her wording suggests she instinctively doesn't think of Remus as a wizard, a human – but as a werewolf.

Chapter 12

Notes: Prejudice people call werewolves 'half-breeds' – already an insulting term for actual part-humans, but factually incorrect for werewolves. Lycanthropy is not a race or species.

pg 245 “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.” “If you mean Professor Lupin,” piped up Dean Thomas angrily, “he was the best we ever—”

I hate to say it: she has a point – but she should have kept it at 'irresponsible wizards'. She is being speciesist and offensive: werewolves are not half-breed or part-human. They are 'whole' humans with Lycanthropy. Calling them half-breeds suggests they are 'less than human' and/or have 'lost some humanity'. Remus is not part-human, he is an irresponsible wizard. Dean's got his back though. get behind him, Remus

Chapter 14

pg 302 “Yes, but the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters,” said Sirius with a wry smile. “I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her.” “Does Lupin know her?” asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge’s comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson. “No,” said Sirius, “but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.” Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin looked these days and his dislike of Umbridge deepened even further. “What’s she got against werewolves?” said Hermione angrily. “Scared of them, I expect,” said Sirius, smiling at her indignation.

It's unclear if her anti-werewolf legislation was before or after Severus exposed Remus. I don't think it's ridiculous to think it was after, though that'd be more like 1.5yrs... Either way – soft confirmation that Remus is shabby from his financial situation, and that his financial situation is directly tied to social perception of his Lycanthropy. He also isn't entirely passive and accepting of his lot in life: he is angry about it when it goes too far.

Chapter 15

pg 308 Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.

Remus listed right alongside a half-giant. More interesting that Moody is listed as one of them, making sure to call him 'delusional' and without even printing his actual fucking name. Disgusting. Being part-human, physically sick, mentally sick... all similar, right? None of them are any good.

Chapter 22

Notes: Even 'accepting' people question their safety around werewolves. Healers may be more sympathetic – due to understanding them more and dealing with them more. Hospitals likely have rooms prepared for werewolf transformations. Secondary Notes: A recent Lycanthropy case may have anger issues.

pg 488/489 "...But that fellow over there,” he said, dropping his voice and nodding toward the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling. “Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all.” “A werewolf?” whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed. “Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn’t he be in a private room?” “It’s two weeks till full moon,” Mr. Weasley reminded her quietly. “They’ve been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he’ll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn’t mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage. ...” “What did he say?” asked George. “Said he’d give me another bite if I didn’t shut up,” said Mr. Weasley sadly.

'Can Arthur stop being perfect for even one second' challenge: impossible. When talking about Lycanthropy: you lower your voice. It's a dirty topic. Arthur, at least, is also being mindful of the patients privacy... but Molly is reacting with prejudice. He is a werewolf so he is unsafe. Interestingly, the Healers seem to be sympathetic – and what Molly says suggests there are private rooms fitted for werewolves. Though that's likely a necessity for a hospital rather than a kindness.

The patient seems to have some anger issues right now... though I would too, if I had been infected by an isolating, degrading, painful illness and everyone kept telling me how 'normal' I could be. Arthur means well. He is sad he upset him. I love you Arthur.

Chapter 23

Secondary Notes: Lycanthropy may be enough to have you disowned by friends and family.

pg 507 Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley;

Did he have nobody in his life before he was bitten? Or has he lost them all now? I'm crying.

Chapter 28

pg 643 “How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin. pg 645 “I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

James and Sirius are both loose-lipped and casual about his Lycanthropy. They see it as fun. Remus does not see it as fun. He is serious about it. Annoyed by James – pissed at Sirius.

Chapter 38

pg 867 Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers.

Threadbare, too... can someone please fund a shopping trip for this man? Hand-me-downs? Is he too stubborn about it? Molly I am begging you to knit him a nice sweater.

~~~ HALF BLOOD PRINCE

Chapter 6

pg 94 To Mrs. Weasley’s displeasure, Harry’s sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

'Ship of Theseus' ass robes

Chapter 16

Notes: Most werewolves live outside of society, in groups following Fenrir Greyback. They are bitten young, taken from their parents and raised in cult-like societies that shun any who have contact to healthy Wizards – believing they are deserving of 'blood', revenge and over-taking society. They struggle out there with getting enough supplies and food, having to steal or kill to eat – and probably are largely uneducated. They follow Voldemort, through Greyback, in the belief his re-formation of society will benefit them. Remus is bitter about being 'equals' with these people, but has sympathy for them even if he sees them – and himself – as lesser than healthy Wizards. The idea he isn't is sweet but naïve to him. He doesn't fit in around them because he was raised and lives around wizarding society. Remus doesn't fit in with wizards either – and is extremely thankful for any help he receives. pg 281

Meanwhile, Remus Lupin,who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina’s voice.

pg 283/284

“I neither like nor dislike Severus,” said Lupin. “No, Harry, I am speaking the truth,” he added, as Harry pulled a skeptical expression. “We shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon.” “But he ‘accidentally’ let it slip that you’re a werewolf, so you had to leave!” said Harry angrily. Lupin shrugged. “The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful.” “Maybe he didn’t dare mess with the potion with Dumbledore watching him!” said Harry. “You are determined to hate him, Harry,” said Lupin with a faint smile.

Remus appreciates Severus' dedication to his health. He see's it as a kindness: Severus had every reason to mess with it but kept him healthy instead. He was dedicated to Remus' health. It was because of Severus that he had his most comfortable year since he was a teenager – and he see's Harry's insistence on seeing the worst in Severus as ridiculous because of it.

Pg 284/285/286 “Oh, I’ve been underground,” said Lupin. “Almost literally. That’s why I haven’t been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been living among my fellows, my equals,” said Lupin. “Werewolves,” he added, at Harry’s look of incomprehension. “Nearly all of them are on Voldemort’s side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was... ready-made.”He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, “I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat.” “How come they like Voldemort?” “They think that, under his rule, they will have a better life,” said Lupin. “And it is hard to argue with Greyback out there “ “Who’s Greyback?” “You haven’t heard of him?” Lupin’s hands closed convulsively in his lap. “Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children... Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people’s sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.” Lupin paused and then said, “It was Greyback who bit me.” “What?” said Harry, astonished. “When — when you were a kid, you mean?” “Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback’s insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people.”“But you are normal!” said Harry fiercely. “You’ve just got a — a problem —”Lupin burst out laughing. “Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my ‘furry little problem’ in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit.”

- Werewolves live so far that they are 'almost literally underground'. - They shun 'normal' society so hard that they distrust and outcast werewolves that don't. Cult-like. - 'It is hard to argue with Greyback out there' – it really is cult-like. More on that in Part 4. - Survival is difficult enough that they steal and even kill just to eat. Good luck out there, Remus. - It is possible that Remus couldn't write because having connections to wizards is frowned upon – but also that the average werewolf cannot read or write. Greyback bites children and raises them away from other Wizards... its doubtful they get a decent education. - Almost all werewolves are on Voldemorts side. Damn. More on that in Part 4 – but damn, they really are desperate. - At the moment, Voldemort has promised Greyback children to bite for his dream of overtaking healthy wizards. - Harry thinks of Remus as such a normal guy that him being a werewolf barely crosses his thoughts, unlike Hermione and most people in general. They see him as "Remus the Werewolf" rather than "Remus the DADA teacher who taught how to be brave" ... ... - Remus see's himself unequal to other wizards. This confuses the Harry. - Remus is bitter not at Albus for giving him the task – but that it is his lot in life. He wishes he didn't have to do it, didn't have to be around 'his equals', when they are so awful. - Remus is empathetic to other werewolves (even the one that bit him) because he understands well the lack of control and the pain. - He has less empathy for Greyback because he plans to hurt people. Control is important to him. - Remus thinks Harry's insistence that he is 'normal but with a problem' is endearing and funny. It is an unusual stance to take.

Chapter 22

pg 400 “What was the werewolf’s name?” said Harry quickly. “Well, the rumor is that it was that Fenrir Greyback,” said Hermione. “I knew it — the maniac who likes attacking kids, the one Lupin told me about!” said Harry angrily.

Even amongst werewolf hearsay and bad press Greyback is a maniac of a werewolf. Going out of the way to bite children is odd.

Chapter 29

pg 523/524 “We don’t yet know,” said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Lupin.

Oh yeah, sure. Because all werewolves know everything about Lycanthropy. Nice one, Minnie. I'm joking – he really would be the expert in the room, a werewolf himself and someone with interest in magical creatures. :^)

pg 525 “You see!” said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”“It’s different,” said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —” pg 526 “And I’ve told you a million times,” said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, “that I am too old for you, too poor... too dangerous...”“I’ve said all along you’re taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus,” said Mrs. Weasley over Fleur’s shoulder as she patted her on the back. “I am no being ridiculous,” said Lupin steadily. “Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.”“But she wants you,” said Mr. Weasley, with a small smile. “And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.” He gestured sadly at his son, lying between them.“This is... not the moment to discuss it,” said Lupin, avoiding everybody’s eyes as he looked around distractedly. “Dumbledore is dead...”“Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world,” said Professor McGonagall curtly, just as the hospital doors opened again and Hagrid walked in.

Bill will be disfigured and contaminated – but the social stigma of that isn't as bad as someone with full Lycanthropy. The Weasleys – even Molly – are supportive of Remus, Arthur specifically pointing out that disability can happen to anyone. McGonagall's views probably mirror Albus' who has been nothing but supportive to Remus. However I think its clear by now that these views are not the norm. ... ... Alongside classism, ageism and believing himself dangerous – Remus is extremely aware of his social standing, doesn't wish to fight it and doesn't want to drag someone 'young and whole' with him. He see's himself as 'incomplete'. If that has some parallels to Umbridge's 'half-breed' comments – it's internalised speciesism as well as ableism: Half-breeds are not 'incomplete' people and he isn't even a half-breed. There is no way Remus would think less of Hagrid or Flitwick so it's bigotry saved for people like himself.

~~~ DEATHLY HALLOWS

Chapter 1 (Extremist Pureblood views – but they reflect a stronger version of larger societal views: Fudge tries to appease the masses, as does Rita Skeeter, with similar sentiments to these. Even the Weasley's have shown negative knee-jerk reactions to werewolves. I say this to keep in mind that while society at large wouldn't burst out laughing in mocking disgust at their family member marrying a werewolf... they still wouldn't think warmly of it.)

pg 13 “I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.” There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation.“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We – Narcissa and I – have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.” pg 14 “What say you, Draco?” asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. “Will you babysit the cubs?” … … “Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. “You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.” “Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!” “You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain…”

Death Eaters think werewolves 'beasts' no matter their blood purity. They aren't even human anymore, their children – despite not being contaminated themselves – are regarded as 'cubs'. The thought of having someone 'contaminated' with Lycanthropy in the family is literally laughable. It is better to kill the diseased than wear the shame of mere association. Eugenics? In the Death Eaters? In Wizarding society generally? Gasp. What a shock. Chapter 5

Notes: Bellatrix want's Tonks dead as much as she want's Harry – because she married Remus.

pg 70 Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere. “Remus!” Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin’s arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak. … … “So what kept you? What happened?” Lupin sounded almost angry at Tonks. “Bellatrix,” said Tonks. “She wants me quite as much as she wants Harry, Remus, she tried very hard to kill me. I just wish I’d got her, I owe Bellatrix. But we definitely injured Rodolphus... Then we got to Ron’s Auntie Muriel’s and we’d missed our Portkey and she was fussing over us –” … … A muscle was jumping in Lupin’s jaw. He nodded, but seemed unable to say anything else.

Cute. He was so stressed, so scared. My man can't express himself – he was scared he lost her... he's busting a blood vessel realizing how important she is to him.

Chapter 7

Notes: The Ministry is so anti-werewolf right now Remus, Tonks and maybe Arthur feel it would be better for everyone – especially Harry – for them to leave rather than be in the vicinity of the Minister.

pg 108/109 They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley’s voice. “Minister of Magic coming with me.” The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur’s family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished. “We shouldn’t be here,” said Lupin at once. “Harry – I’m sorry – I’ll explain another time –”He seized Tonks’s wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

Chapter 8

pg 123/124 “Arthur told us you were the one with the curly hair. Sorry about last night,” she added in a whisper as Harry led them up the aisle. “The Ministry’s being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors.”“It’s fine, I understand,” said Harry, speaking more to Lupin than Tonks. Lupin gave him a swift smile, but as they turned away, Harry saw Lupin’s face fall again into lines of misery. He did not understand it, but there was no time to dwell on the matter: Hagrid was causing a certain amount of disruption.

They all needed to be warned about the Minister – but I don't doubt some of that warning was for Remus. Arthur would know just how anti-werewolf the ministry had been... while Molly may not. It's so bad (and Tonks agrees with that assessment) that he scampered away over a fence. He willingly took Tonks with him and later looked miserable... he's probably found out she's pregnant.

Chapter 10

pg 157 On James’s left was Lupin, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included... or was it simply because Harry knew how it had been, that he saw these things in the picture?

Chapter 11

Notes: Remus is extremely upset that he got Tonks pregnant – enough to regret marrying her at all. Association with him has made Tonks, and his child, outcasts – even to her own family. The treatment we see him get from Dumbledore's allies is far better than most, who won't even talk to 'creatures like him' – seeing him not as a 'Being' but a 'Beast'. It is so good he has come to expect being comforted rather than berated. Werewolves don't usually have kids, despite the condition not passing from parent to child. The stress of this entire situation has made him deranged and almost delusional. Baby is bad.

pg 185 “Remus,” said Hermione tentatively, “is everything all right... you know... between you and –” “Everything is fine, thank you,” said Lupin pointedly. Hermione turned pink. There was another pause, an awkward and embarrassed one, and then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, “Tonks is going to have a baby.” “Oh, how wonderful!” squealed Hermione. “Excellent!” said Ron enthusiastically. “Congratulations,” said Harry. Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, “So... do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.” … … “Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.” Lupin’s face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen might have dropped ten degrees.

Remus is only just holding back his disdain for 'making a young and whole woman have his cubs'. He feels so bad that he wants to go and do something useful and good. Something that makes him feel Dumbledore's positive belief in him again. 'Will three become four'... he is desperate for it, pushing the point as their 'teacher' – he needs to be reckless to distract from his reality. Again. Hiding your condition to get an education...? Go on walkabouts you know are bad. Awesome job with Dumbledores support...? Go make every bad decision in PoA. Got someone pregnant...? Go help the kids with the biggest target on their back.

pg 186/187 “You don’t understand,” said Lupin at last. “Explain, then,” said Harry. Lupin swallowed. “I – I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since.” “I see,” said Harry, “so you’re just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?”Lupin sprang to his feet: His chair toppled over backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Harry saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face.“Don’t you understand what I’ve done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I’ve made her an outcast!” Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. “You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore’s protection at Hogwarts! You don’t know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don’t you see what I’ve done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child – the child –”Lupin actually seized handfuls of his own hair; he looked quite deranged. “My kind don’t usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it – how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!” “Remus!” whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. “Don’t say that – how could any child be ashamed of you?” “Oh, I don’t know, Hermione,” said Harry. “I’d be pretty ashamed of him.” Harry did not know where his rage was coming from, but it had propelled him to his feet too. Lupin looked as though Harry had hit him.“If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad,” Harry said, “what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father’s in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he’d tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?” “How – how dare you?” said Lupin. “This is not about a desire for – for danger or personal glory – how dare you suggest such a –”“I think you’re feeling a bit of a daredevil,” Harry said. “You fancy stepping into Sirius’s shoes –” “Harry, no!” Hermione begged him, but he continued to glare into Lupin’s livid face. “I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward.”Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin’s cloak disappearing around the door. “Remus, Remus, come back!” Hermione cried, but Lupin did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

- Remus believes marrying Tonks was a mistake – because just the act of marrying her has made her, and their child, outcasts. - 'Her own family is disgusted' as if her family's values are worthwhile. - He is treated the best by Dumbledore's people. - 'My kind don't usually breed' he is a wizard. He is a human being with Lycanthropy. Others with Lycanthropy may rarely have children due to social stigma – but the language he is using... yeesh. - The condition is not passed from father to child, but Remus is convinced it will, that he has ruined everything and everyone forever... he's deranged and upset about it. - Believes his son will be ashamed of him for being a werewolf. He is better off out of his life. - Despite this deep belief he is shameful – hearing it from Harry still hurts like a hit. He is used to being comforted. - Harry insinuates 'half-werewolf' (I don't think he believes this term himself) with an Order father is worse even than being muggle-born. (He also says he should be prepared to die for his family like James did, which I don't agree with, but he is making a point so I'll let him cook.) - Remus says he isn't doing this for glory – and he is mostly truthful. He messed up so he is running away from home before people can yell at him. He wants to be useful instead. - Harry likens him to Sirius: stifled, near-suicidal, itching to do anything to help – which is apt. He call's Remus a coward and he gets so angry he lashes out and runs away because he can't deny that. Chapter 24

pg 421/422 “You buried the elf,” he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. “I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door.” “Yes,” said Harry. Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black eyes.“You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter.” “In what way?” asked Harry, rubbing his scar absently. “You dug the grave.” “So?” Griphook did not answer. Harry rather thought he was being sneered at for acting like a Muggle, but it did not much matter to him whether Griphook approved of Dobby’s grave or not. He gathered himself for the attack. “Griphook, I need to ask –” “You also rescued a goblin.” “What?” “You brought me here. Saved me.” “Well, I take it you’re not sorry?” said Harry a little impatiently. “No, Harry Potter,” said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, “but you are a very odd wizard.”

Werewolves are wizards – not House-Elves or Goblins. However we see them called beasts, half-bloods - regarded as 'less than human'. This makes Griphooks view on Wizards... interesting. He thinks Harry is a strangely kind wizard for saving his life, and giving a House-Elf respect. The bar is set extremely low when it comes to the treatment of fellow Beings, it seems. I wonder: are unloved werewolves given graves...?

Chapter 25

pg 446 “It is I, Remus John Lupin!” called a voice over the howling wind. Harry experienced a thrill of fear; what had happened? “I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!”“Lupin,” muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched it open. Lupin fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, “It’s a boy! We’ve named him Ted, after Dora’s father!” pg 447 “I can’t stay long, I must get back,” said Lupin, beaming around at them all: He looked years younger than Harry had ever seen him.

His traveling cloak isn't shabby :'( how very OOC of him Love that his joy for his son being born is an 'emergency'.

Chapter 33

pg 578 “What’s Potter got to do with anything?” said Lily. “They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?”“He’s ill,” said Lily. “They say he’s ill –”“Every month at the full moon?” said Snape. “I know your theory,” said Lily, and she sounded cold. “Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

A theory, a suggestion, of Lycanthropy is dire – enough to make a muggleborn react strongly on behalf of someone else. 'Trying to show you they're not as wonderful' – just because Remus has Lycanthropy, and the others shelter that, they are all bad.

~~~ SUMMARY OF THIS PART:

Lycanthropy is a dirty topic. Regardless of who is nearby - you lower your voice when speaking about it. People do not joke around with the topic of werewolves. It is not to be taken lightly - accusations are serious. Remus is upset even when his friends joke about his condition or treat it lightly.

Pureblood Supremacists regard werewolves as 'beasts' rather than people, no matter their blood purity. Lycanthropy has ruined them, even their potential children will be 'cubs' - they are better off dead. To be associated with such an 'animal' in any way other than as a servant is ridiculously tragic and shameful.

While slightly less extreme: regular society reflects these values.

They might not think of werewolves as 'beasts' but they certainly don't regard them as 'normal people'. They are thought of as dangerous by nature, untrustworthy - likened to half-giants, murderers and the mentally ill... called 'half-breeds' despite not being half anything. Just being bitten could be enough to have you disowned from your family and friends.

Even those who are more sympathetic can be guarded, likening them more to non-human beings or part-humans than accepting them as fully human. They are potentially less accepted than Vampires.

At school students learn how to identify werewolves as creatures like hinkeypunks and kappa. There are laws segregating people with Lycanthropy, preventing them from working almost entirely. Being seen associating with a werewolf by the Ministry will reflect negatively on you. They are truly pariahs. It seems the only kindness in society is within hospitals - where Healers will still care for them and might have facilities to support them... at least when first bitten, while they are seen as a tragedy.

It is shocking to a Goblin to even have his life saved, or to see a House-Elf given a funeral - and both of those species at least are not 'dangerous' and have a place, a role, within society (though narrow and without many rights or freedoms). Werewolves have nothing. They are segregated, feared, thought of as animals - most people won't even speak to them. Being bitten has taken some of their humanity away in their eyes. It's unsurprising that most werewolves live outside of society, so far out that stealing and killing is sometimes necessary for survival. That perpetuates negative stereotypes... but changing minds is not the popular argument:

Fenrir Greyback might be considered a maniac even amongst those who already distrust werewolves - but he is king. He bites children, takes them from their parents and raises them to believe they deserve revenge - they will one day overtake 'normal' society and Lord Voldemort will help them get there. It is cult-like in the way they shun even other werewolves if they have had any contact with, or were raised by, 'normal' society. Considering Fenrir's victims are taken from their parents when young - and no werewolves go to Hogwarts - it's likely most werewolves aren't well educated... which makes it difficult for Remus to fit in.

Remus was lucky to have been one of Fenrir's early bites, before he was a household name, before he snatched kids away. He grew up in 'normal' society with loving parents... but it isn't enough to escape poverty. He struggles to find work. His clothes are shabby, frayed, threadbare, ragged - he darns and patches them himself. … … Remus doesn't expect to ever fit in. He will have to sneak around forever, sticking to the edges of society, trying to never give anyone reason to suspect him so he can at least enjoy some politeness. Even that is more than he deserves.

While he does believe those like him, who try not to cause trouble, are worth a little more credit - Lycanthropy is still a black mark he can never wash off. He accepts people won't like him as a fact of life.

He relishes positive attention. He is pleased when his student's don't want to do their werewolf essay. He cancels it - he might have even been holding them back to avoid having to teach it.

Despite believing himself shameful - having Harry agree rather than comforting him made him flinch like he was hit. Harry's opinion means a lot to him. Dumbledore has always been kind to him - and he has just about dedicated his life to him in return.

Severus supplying him with Wolfsbane without messing with it to weaken him is, to him, an extreme kindness he has nothing but gratitude for... while outing him as a werewolf was deserved.

Remus see's himself as unequal to other Wizards. Any positivity aimed at him is an undeserved gift. Harry's insistence he is 'normal' with a 'problem' is appreciated but seen as naive. All his mistakes or failures are confirmation that he is dangerous, weak willed, disgusting by nature.

The biggest mistake of his life was marrying Tonks and having a child - because he will ruin them. He brings them shame, everyone will be disgusted with them just by association with him - and they are better off without him in their life. Similar to Pureblood belief.

He doesn't think fighting for his rights or better treatment is a worthwhile endeavour. He buys into the classism, ableism and speciesism that has been thrown against him - at least a little. He might not think part-humans are less-than-human - but he considers himself un-whole. He may not look down on others for their poverty or their physical issues but he looks down on himself.

However he believes himself a little better than other werewolves: He is bitter they are 'his kind', his 'equals'... because living with them, trying to fit in, he is more 'wizard' than they are. He does have some pride and empathy for other werewolves that, like him, 'try to be good': he is angry that laws have made it harder for the werewolves that are part of 'normal society' to get work. He is upset that Greyback has been biting and raising young kids to his side - putting them in a position where they must steal and even kill to survive.

He may have strong feelings on the Dementors Kiss as a punishment - perhaps due to it being something he may be subjected to easier than other people.

He goes and spends time with a lonely man in hospital, freshly bitten. In his mind these people, like himself, are ruined, part of their humanity stripped from them.

They are no longer 'whole'.

[sarksarkos]

Wonder Woman '59: Good Stories with Nonsense Plots

Wonder Woman #106 is the story about Wonder Woman temporarily losing her magical powers and getting trapped by a planet of giants. Why did this happen? Because otherwise there wouldn't be a comic. Welcome to the Gutters.

Saying a superhero comic has a "nonsense plot" is something that needs some extraordinary circumstances. This issue already has a story where an ancient greek Amazon gets kidnapped by space giants and put on a massive charm bracelet, and that isn't even the nonsense part.

The story begins when a giant named Tooroo wins the Giant Olympics and claims the planet Earth as his prize. He shows up and starts grabbing all the shiny things he can see as gifts for his giant girlfriend. Wonder Woman tries to stop him but, unfortunately, it's June 19th! AT 10 O'CLOCK!

For some reason, all of Wonder Woman's special equipment - her tiara, lasso, bracelets and invisible jet - lose their magical powers for 24 hours at this specific date and time. It's never explained to the characters or the audience why this happens, and this right here is the nonsense plot. Wonder Woman's whole deal and the planet of asshole giants, that's a wacky premise, but I can accept it. But if a plot introduces an arbitrary restriction on that premise, like Wonder Woman losing her powers because of a superhero service interruption, the story needs to provide at least some explanation as to why that is.

Despite that, the story itself is actually pretty good. Wonder Woman challenges the big dumb man and has to overcome his challenges despite being .1% his size. Without her special equipment, she has to use her skills and intelligence to win, and pulls out a last-second turnaround by using the giant's overwhelming strength to her advantage. At the end, everyone learns a lesson not to pick on people just because you're 100 stories tall.

Second story in the issue is "The Invisible Wonder Girl" which gives up the plot twist right in the preview image. Wonder Girl gets secretly replaced by an alien shapeshifter, and for some reason this new girl doesn't show up in photographs. Like it doesn't show a blur or her true form or anything, she just doesn't show up at all. I think the writers confused aliens with vampires. The Amazons decide no harm done and let her stay on Paradise Island, and she is never seen again.

The first story in Issue #107: "Wonder Woman: Amazon Teenager" has two main throughlines. The first is that Wonder Girl meets a mer-boy named Ronno and starts like a cute teen romance with him. The second is that the Amazons have a time machine that they can use to view the future, and Wonder Girl decides she wants to dress like her future self, and she goes on a quest to get her future costume iconography. Again, kind of a nonsense plot. It doesn't even affect the story because there's any number of reasons why the Amazons could send her on this quest.

As with before, the story itself is pretty good. It's a classic story structure where the hero goes on a dangerous quest, gaining skills, tools, and allies that help them complete their task. It's a formula that's survived into the present day, basically every Zelda game uses this exact structure. Ronno the mer-boy is a pretty fun addition, unclear if he's from the same mermaid civilization as Lori Lemaris, but he shows up a few times in these adventures.

The second story in #107, "Gunslingers of Space", is exactly what it says on the tin. Aliens disguise themselves as old west gunsligners and try to rob airplanes on flying horses. Why are they doing this? Don't ask stupid questions. Wonder Woman beats them by getting a thousand magnets together, smushing them into one massive magnet with her bare hands, and grabbing them by all the metal they're wearing. That's fun, it feels like something that would happen in a tall tale, like Pecos Bill roping the tornado.

Issue #108 features "Wanted - Wonder Woman," with a cover that looks like a prototype of the iconic "Days of Future Past" cover from Uncanny X-Men #141. In my last post I talked about the sequence where Wonder Woman robs a bank and gets chased by the police at night, and it's pretty cool. The reason for that is that aliens are attempting to mind control her so that she will be unable to stop them from invading.

We've seen this kind of plot before, Batman and Superman have all had this happen to them. This issue makes a really significant storytelling decision to show us Wonder Woman's internal monologue as she's being subverted. With Batman or Superman, it's usually played as a mystery, where the audience asks "Why is Superman stealing the jewels?" Here, we see Wonder Woman having to ask herself "Why am I stealing the jewels?" and trying to fight off her own impulses, and that turns it from a mystery story to a horror story.

I also wanna point out I love the alien design. I love aliens that look like bugs, and these guys are gross and cute at the same time. Bring back unnamed aliens from Wonder Woman #108.

Once they get Wonder Woman to rob the bank, as seen last time, they conclude that she's completely dominated and won't put up a fight against them. That's when Wonder Woman reveals that she was only pretending to submit to their mind control and had been building up resistance. The aspect of dominance and submission from the Golden Age Wonder Woman doesn't come up much in the silver age because of COWARDICE, but this is a good way to bring those elements up again. When faced with unwanted domination, Wonder Woman chooses to feign submission while secretly undermining those who would control her. This is going to be more and more relevant as the world gets more and more awful.

The second story in #108 is about some stamp-themed supervillain making special Wonder Woman stamps that grow to massive size and explode and then uses them for military sabotage. It is a completely wild story and nobody in it acts like a person who shares a housing complex with reality. Absolute nonsense plot. I don't even know what to say about it so I am going to move on.

I feel like a lot of these stories weren't written to have aliens in it. To me, these read like they had a more supernatural or fantastic bent and then aliens were plastered on top to make it fit the silver age ethos. For example, the giants could just be magical giants who live in some secret magical kingdom. The shapeshifter who impersonated Wonder Girl makes more sense if she's some kind of ghost or spirit. The Duke of Deception from last time would work just as well if he were working for Mars, the god of War.

The one thing I really wish would have been more fantastic is "Gunslingers of Space." Cowboys and outlaws of the wild west have been described as a kind of American mythology, and it would be really interesting to contrast that with Wonder Woman, a representative of Classical mythology. I could see, for example, the Greek gods trying to take on new personas to rule the modern age, or even the spirits of the old west manifesting as new gods and having to fight the old. Just building up stories for my hypothetical Wonder Woman run.

Until next time!