#in which the author wrote that 'before the fight his former lookes were like a dead man to what he had when he went to engage'

[sneez]

The General in Retirement / written 28.08.22

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine Request

Author note: hey!

So I'm so sorry this is so late, I wrote it and put it in my drafts to fix up later and I completely forgot about it lol

I only ever seen a few episodes of I zombie so I hope this is alright

@rachelcarroll1819

When you first met Julien you were at a Farmer's market, he was at the Honey stand looking thur the variety of Honey. you arrived a few minutes later with a notebook full of questions to the Bee Farmer. where were the bees located, Which sort of flowers did they populate, How Was he Sure that his Bee's populated those flowers, his method of getting the honey out. Small details about the project method. The bee farmer at first humored your questions and was glad to see another Bee Autherioust  Until your questions lead to them being incredibly Annoyed that you questioned every single detail.  Even Julien who was a stranger was getting incredibly annoyed at your endless questions.

it got to the point he suggested you Shut up. You looked at Julien and the words came out of Stupidity... you looked at the Large attractive Man. Holding two tiny jars shaped like a bear and One that had the writing "Honey" but looked like Winnie the Pooh Honey Jar. you couldn't help but utter the words "make me."  you weren't the sort to Get into any trouble. you don just randomly pick fights with guys twice your size. but you were Annoyed the morning. you were fighting with your brother who decided to drop you like a rock. you have been trying to get in touch with him for days. and he wasn't picking up. Wrong time. Wrong place. Julien instead of being the massive Dick picking on a lady in the middle of a farmers market stepped closer as he spoke deciding to take the Sleazy Rout vs anger. to Make you Runoff and leave Him to choose the Right Honey to buy. "I'll Rather have your mouth do something else than blab."

In Any other circumstance that Line would have Caused you to Pouch him square in the face. but you were still in trouble for the bar fight you caused last month you just finished your required hours of charity work. that your brother kindly got the Judge to give you vs time / Paying a Massive Fine. Between Stress from Work, your family, and your best friend Deciding to Marry your former boyfriend out of NOWHERE.. you had three options 1) walk away calling him an A-hole for talking to a lady like that 2) pouch the Lites out of the pretty boy 3) Have Your Way with the Idiot. a bit of shame of a one-night stand would probably lead you to be less stressed. he smirks realizing his words were enough to shut you up. he turned around as you spoke, "I'll rather have your mouth do something useful."

the "relationship" didn't start up for months. you would casually see each other whenever life got Stressed and you needed a breather.  "Fuck Buddies" sometimes,  More than friends. Less than lovers. but whenever you were with Julien you were his Everything and he was yours.  It was perfect till you were kidnapped by a man Named "Blain" and you discovered that zombies were Real, that your brother was a Zombie and your Lover. was also one.

Even those Julien didn't unchain you and sweep you away from danger too scared about his boss finding out. he gave you snacks, Bathroom breaks, and Even snuck into your apartment to get your medicine. and made you as comfortable as possible. you spat venom at him e

time he tried to be kind. you were furious with him, with the idea of Zombies. that after once Liv and your brother saved you. you pouched Julien before you walked off.

for two solid weeks, you were able to involve Julien until he showed up one night at your door. you were walking in with your friend Derek. he was half passed out as Julien leaned against the wall. A Normal Guy would be awkward and feel slightly embarrassed to Catch his former Lover. half-carrying another man into her apartment but Not Julien he stayed still arms crossed as you asked what he was doing as he spoke, 'I missed you."

you walked passed him opening your door and basically tossed your pal to the Sofa and turned around closing the door with you out in the hall facing your former lover. Julien scared you going to his knees as you gasped as he pulled you into a hug as he held you around your waist as he spoke, "I love you.. and I don't want to be just a Fling.'

"your working for the enemy."

"So are you.'

you went quiet as he dig his head at your stomach as you were so off guard but touched his head. you hated to admit it but you missed him.

"We won't involve them.. it is just how it use to be. you and Me. together. we don't bring work-life into our lives."

you agreed. and for months you were able to keep it quiet.

that is until this morning when you walked into the morgue that you knew your brother, Liv, and Ravi was going to be. you brought Donuts as you walked in seeing a Deadman on the table. that wasn't uncommon. it was a Mourge it was Full of dead bodies but that body that Man you recognized.   SHIT! you said out loud as Everyone turned to you as you spoke, "Sorry- Ugh. was-" you paused trying to think of something to say but you just questioned who the dead guy was.

"Alger Port.- he was found at the docks. Beheaded.."

"what!" you walked overseeing he's head was defiantly off his body.. you saw some messed up things at the morgue.  Gunshots, body harm ect, but a decapitated head. was a first. "Damn... Has Liv- ugh. .ate the brain yet?"

"Not yet."Liv said as rubbed your neck, 'Ugh.. before you do.. can we talk? in private?"

"what for?" Major asked. you turned to your older brother when you moved to Seattle you were conceived you and him were going to be closer. you weren't Close Siblings. he was always Putting his Career first and you were the screwup. the hotheaded. troublemaking Sibling. Well in his eyes you were. troublemaker. In reality, you were pretty quiet, Timid then you met Julien and you realized you were a bad Bitch. you were bold, Brave, and happy. Major loved you. but he always questions your every motive.. you were the youngest in the family and he always saw you as a kid. most days you don't mind. you're used to him being Overprotective.

"lady problems.."

you said trying to End the conversation but Major. if it was Liv Or Payton saying "Lady Problems" he would of Let it go and apologize and be a gentleman about it. Major? especially Now that he was a Zombie Everything freaked him out when it came to you. didn't

"what's wrong? 'period dirahra? Cramps?'

the room got quiet hearing your brother say "period Diraha'' you however stood there as you spoke, 'I didn't think you would want to hear about my Sex life. but if you wish. we can talk about it here."

Shut your brother up. Liv stepped up saying of course as you both walked to Ravi's office.

the boys started going to Work, Major Left, and Ravi started examing the body again as Liv asked what was wrong. "

"Ravi.. mentioned once you- you ugh. once watched the Dead women. Memories.. and he was in them and he was having sex with her.."

"oh god, you know the witness?"

"Sort of."

"Damn Girl." Liv gasped out. you were close to Liv she was a great friend. Often telling her she's far too good for her brother. you shook your head reaching over and grabbing her arm softly, "Oh God No! No I don't know him- well I mean. I-" you stopped you wished you didn't have to tell her. But you figured Giving Liv a heads up would beter than Surprising her when she sees a vision of you and Julien .. in the back alley.. going at it like Rabbits.

you rubbing your arms tightly. This was uncomfortable- you aren't the sort of people who had sex in random places. or the sort to keep a relationship hidden from people you care about especially for more than a year. you were the lovesick sort. who fell Headfirst so fast and who had rose color glasses on throughout life. So tell your friend, your Brothers. complicated Girlfriend. this.. was Awkward.

"what is it? did he hurt you?"

you shook your head, "No- I- if you didn't get visions. I wouldn't bother mentioning it. but I thought you deserved to be.. alerted by the chance you see. Me.."

"Now you're freaking me out.' she said stunned as you walked over to the brown leather sofa sitting down. Liv and Major both were hoping you would fall for Ravi. which you could have easily fallen for him the tall British Doctor. but Julien he made your knees weak. A feeling you were convinced Ravi could Never make you have. "Sit down.."

you asked as Liv sat beside you. you rubbed your face breathing in, 'I- I've been seeing someone and they found this Movie theatre in the factories near the docks., the roof is semi-open and they painted Glow in the dark Star collections and they have several Vintage old vehicles inside with the roofs other chopped off or intact and it's a drive-in sort of movie theatre- well anyways. I was there... with my Date. they Play Vintage movies. Last night it was Vincent Price the bat."

you were rumbling but you were Horrified to tell this to Liv.

"Okay? So what happened?"

"We didn't have a closed Car.. it was a convertible. and we- it got Spicy and we ended up after the movie. Going around to the side of the building.. the Alleyway.. and had Sex..."

her mouth fell to the floor she wasn't expecting that.  liv spoke, "Oh whoa.. okay.. ugh.. and it wasn't the victim?"

"No- ugh. No.. he caught us in the act. and Julien- he told him to piss off as he shielded my body so the creep couldn't see me."

"Julien.?" her face scrunched up trying to remember where she knew that name then it hit her. "Julien Depuort?! you had a date with HIM!"

she got up to her feet as she spoke, "are you- why the Hell would you- you let him touch you!"

you closed your mouth as you spoke, "well- I let him do More than- we been seeing each other for over a year."

For a second you wondered if Zombies could Faint. LIv was speechless her skin looked more pail as she turned looking away from you. catching Ravi looking into the room as she turned to you. "are you out of your Damn Mind! he kidnapped you!"

"technology that wasn't him. and he was kind- we started before that. when I first moved to the city I met him at a farmer's market-and at first it was just you know. am Fling.. but then it grew.. and well. it's complicated I know but-"

"he works for a mad man!"

"Yes! And I work with a zombie who takes our client's brains. to munch on."

"that is not the same thing!"

"I know! But. Liv. I love him.. and I'm sorry if it's weird. but I thought you deserved a heads up.. unless you See it. But plus side it's not going to be as bad as when you saw Ravi having sex."

"I think I'm going to be sick.. i- you need to leave."  

you didn't expect the reaction to be that bad, it only got worst when your brother was involved and you were giving a lecture about All the bad decisions you have made. you ended up sneaking off after a few hours to go see Julien who sneaked off from his work too meet you at your Spot in the park. he was there holding a Single sunflower as he handed it to you as he kissed you softly.

"hey babe."

"hey- were in trouble "

'what's wrong?"

"my brother. learned about us."

he sighed heavily, you explained about the dead guy and about last night as he chuckled, ' I woudl of loved too see your brothers face for that!"

"JULIEN!"

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[n1kolaiz]

"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

[lisinfleur]

Shelter

The request:

Author’s Notes | I took the chance for Day Felice’s new album and wrote it while listening to their song Shelter, if you guys want to listen to it while reading as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! (And the song too haha). Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon. Words | 1878 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions to child abuse and abandonment. Wounds, blood, and some angst.

His chariot noise was always something that would help his mind to ease after any kind of arguing. And with his wife, it wasn't different. This morning he’d left after a huge discussion with her.

Why was Y/N so worried about a slave child?

Ivar insisted several times she should just forget the thing and let it go. It wasn't their responsibility! And more: by taking leftovers and water for that child every night, she was only making the little thing's suffering longer!

"It would be dead already if it wasn't for you, feeding it every night!" he remembered trying to insist.

But Y/N's was stone-headed! Every single night, there was his queen, dressing her cloak and leaving his castle - once a former church - to visit the thing that now wasn't moving places, of course.

Someone was feeding it, helping it, all the time! Why would it be stupid and leave it behind?

Ivar was getting used to passing by that child every day as if the girl was some kind of door or local decoration. But not for his wife. Not his Y/N and her heart blessed by Frigg.

She was a natural mother. He knew that! It was one of the reasons he chose her the love Y/N would show for any child she could have around.

But when she came with that stupid idea, it went too far for him.

"I'm going to take her home."

A thing.

A useless thing that wouldn't serve not even as a slave, so thin it was.

They've discussed it for hours. Ivar screamed at Y/N she was insane, perhaps touched by some local spirit. Y/N yelled he was an insensitive motherfucker who could fuck himself out of her room if he thought she would let a child starve to death on her door.

As always, their love was intense but also was their anger. And whenever they would yell at each other, one of them would end up hurt.

This time, it was her.

"I don't fucking care about what you think! It's cattle, Y/N! Cattle die! And that's it! I won't spend my supplies with a thing that can barely give anything back to us!"

Or maybe not.

Perhaps... It was him.

"Fine then. Let us guide her to the woods and leave her to the wolves, Ivar. Isn't it what we do with useless things? Oh, wait... Wasn't it what your father did to you?"

Their words would always hurt each other deeper than they wanted to hurt. Their hearts would regret the words said at the moment they’d left their mouths.

But this time, her words forced his eyes to look out of his chariot. And Ivar stopped it by the street near where that thing was sitting, observing. Trying to understand why his wife was trying so hard to save that starving child.

Why was she comparing them as if there was anything in common between him and a Saxon abandoned child?

It was early in the morning. He watched as the little girl unwrapped the leftovers his wife had given to her the last night. At first, Ivar thought the little hungry thing would, of course, eat everything without care. But he watched with surprise as she fractioned the little portion, eating a quarter of it and saving the rest for later.

It was an intelligent move... She wasn’t a wild animal, after all.

That would be a cold day. Ivar observed as the little one looked up to the sky. The sun was born behind some heavy clouds - probably some rain would be coming at night.

He watched as the little thing looked around, smartly stealing a barrel from the trash of a nearby store, checking on its wooden pieces to place it properly as a shelter. She was young and thin enough to fit into it. It would serve for the night and maybe keep her warm.

The owner of the store, so as some people who were passing by, pushed her here or there, complaining about her attempts to move between them. And Ivar watched as the little girl looked up from the ground to the bigger people around her, fearlessly.

She wasn't such a defenseless little thing as he thought she was.

In fact, she was pretty smarter than he thought a Saxon child could be, hiding her barrel between the mead barrels of the same store, covering its problems with some mud, so the owner wouldn't see it wasn't one of his barrels.

She wouldn't have her shelter for the night thrown away or broken before she could use it.

Ivar lost track of the time he spent there, watching the girl moving here and there, gathering stones and mud to imitate the shop owner's way of stocking his barrels and preserving hers.

But the important matters of the town had to be more important than his arguing with his wife, and with this, Ivar moved away from that place.

His mind wondered if that was the reason why his wife was so sure he and that child had something in common.

The little girl was a fighter like he was someday, indeed. She was fighting her way to keep herself alive and, perhaps, his precious Y/N was right, and death wasn't exactly the fate that child had in this world.

Ivar tried to get himself occupied during the day. But the truth was that his mind never stopped lingering over Y/N's words, passing over and over the things he had seen that morning.

When the night was threatening to come, the sky broke in water as he thought it would. But curiosity dragged him away from the path to his home.

Ivar wanted to see if the little girl's plan had gone right and what was his surprise when he found the little one sitting away from the store under the heavy rain, with nothing but a rag to cover herself and wounds everywhere.

The barrel she'd tried so hard to protect was shattered near the store's trash, and a fence was placed by the owner around his barrels with some spikes near the place she was sitting before. It was preventing her from having coverage under his roof, even from the outside.

That angered Ivar a little. He'd seen her hard work! And, in the end, her plan had failed. She was clearly beaten and wet from her head to her toes anyway.

However, his eyes caught something he wasn't expecting.

After eating the last piece of what his wife had given to her, the little girl extended the leather over a hole he watched her carve with her bare hands on the ground. Treated, the leather started to catch water and fill itself, becoming a bag into the hole. The little girl caught the bag before it could lose its content, tied the leather with a strand of her ragged trousers, and created a canteen from where she started drinking the rainwater, relieving her thirst.

She was beaten down, defeated. Yet, she didn't give up. She didn't lay her pride down. And found herself a way to turn that rain into a chance for her to survive one more day.

There was determination in her eyes.

That little thing wasn't being sustained by his wife's crumbs. No. She was fighting to the limit of her strength to survive.

Like he'd done someday...

Ivar's eyes filled with surprise when he could see himself in that little girl's wounds, dragging himself through the mud when everyone thought he would never move.

Standing, when everyone was expecting his legs to break and let him fall.

She was a fighter. And, maybe, Y/N was right. Perhaps it wasn't about a Saxon child or a useless slave. Perhaps the gods were showing him they've chosen that little thing, to give her a chance, to reward her for the fight she was putting on for her life.

"Get in," Ivar's voice sounded.

The little thin thing lifted her eyes to see the mighty Viking looking at her from the chariot everyone from her people was taught to fear. Her wounded little body could barely reach the top of its wheels when she got up to look at Ivar.

Her eyes into his, instigating even more the curiosity he was starting to have about that little Saxon thing.

How fierce would she be if raised under his roof?

But the little thing didn't get up on his chariot at once. Instead, she lowered herself, gathering more stones with her muddy and wounded hands.

"I said get in! Don't you see you'll end up dying under this rain?" Ivar complained, annoyed he was standing under such heavy and cold waters for a thing that dared to turn her back on him, carving the floor and placing the stones in a way the rain wouldn't destroy her little monument. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I must do it, sir," she mumbled.

Ivar could recognize a small stone monument in that little girl's construction. His people were used to rising those little towers to pray for the gods or place small sacrifices and offers.

Was Y/N teaching her about the gods?

"Why?" he asked as she tried to climb up on his chariot, struggling a little with the height and her wounded knees.

"It is for the lady who comes here every day," she mumbled. "I promised if I ever was to leave, I would leave one of these for her, so she would know I'm not dead."

For his wife.

She was leaving a stone monument for Y/N, so she wouldn't be worried...

"I don't know where you're taking me, king Ivar," she said, showing she knew who he was. "But I don't want her to be sad."

Ivar's heart ached. There was indeed something in common between him and that child. But not only the fact that both of them were survivors.

She didn't want his wife to be hurt.

And so didn't he.

"Cover yourself," he said, throwing his warm cloak around her.

It covered her like a blanket in which she rolled herself, nestling with a grateful smile.

"She was right," the little girl mumbled as Ivar started to ride his horses.

"What?" he asked, and she repeated, smiling at him.

"The lady was right." She said. "The gods were watching me. Maybe I passed their test."

Y/N was definitely teaching that girl. And Ivar sighed, looking at the road.

Perhaps it was a test for himself as well. Or Skuld just had decided to use him as a feather to write that little girl's fate differently.

"Skuld," he said, catching her eyes. "We shall name you Skuld. To honor the god that wrote your fate like this."

"Skuld," she tried.

Pronouncing it perfectly.

"Sounds strong... I like it!"

What a petulant little thing, Ivar thought. As if she had any choice on how things would be from now on. A giggle filled Ivar's mouth.

Y/N was right and he would remember apologising after coming home that night.

The little girl wasn’t a useless thing. And he had to admit.

She was like him, after all.

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[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 3

[Pairing]

Jungkook x female!oc, bunny!JK x human!oc

[Warnings]

mentiones of abuse, abuse, traumatized JK, humiliating, breakdowns, past sexual harassment, mentiones of violence, violence

[Words]

4.6k

[author]

Here is the next chapter. I really hope you like it. It is so fun writing new chapters and creating a new story.

Check out my recommendation below this chapter! My personal favorite is Inferiority Complex by @starlightauroras-writes. It‘s well written and so exciting to read. Make sure to leave her a lot of likes and comments! She deserves it so much!

Also, leave a like or comment, if you like this story. This makes me happy!

Stay safe and healthy!

Mꨄ

[chapter 2 ||| chapter 4]

It had been six days, since the girl had found him inside the dark alley way. Six days since she had taken him in with her, and six days since his world had been turned upside down.

Everything he had ever learned in his life, from which he thought they were right and normal, suddenly seemed to be so wrong and cruel. He wasn’t stupid. Of course, in his past he also had wondered if there was a life for him, in which could just be him.

Bred in a laboratory near Seoul, the capital of South Korea, he was soon adopted by a rich couple from New York who were looking for a rare bunny Hybrid. His younger him was so excited to finally be adopted and have a family, instead of some scary people in white coats.

God, had he been wrong.

He was nothing more than a pet for their pleasure. In every way.

A shiver ran down his spine, when he thought about the times the man had run his hands over his sensitive ears, pressing and twisting them. Or when his hands had gone down over his back and into his pants, so he could pull the soft fur of the boy’s fluffy tail. Sometimes, his hands had gone even further down, pinching or slapping his butt cheeks.

The boy felt his cheeks redden at this memory.

At first, he had thought it was an accident. He had made sure to leave some space between the man and him, or wriggle himself out of the man’s grip. Little had he known that he had made things worse by that.

He had gotten many punishments. Some of them were okay for him. They would made him clean the house or the laundry, and sometimes they had would lock him up in the small chamber next to kitchen without some food or drinks for several hours.

This had been some of the harmless punishments.

If he had been really bad, they would made him take of all his clothes, serving either them or their friends as they were over. Other days, they would punched him with this heavy belt or with a bat.

His eyes swelled with tears at this memories. He had always thought that he deserved all of this. He thought it was normal for Hybrids to be subordinated to human. He thought that every time he got a punishment, it had been his fault because he was such a bad Hybrid.

How could he had been so wrong?

Since the girl had taken him in with her, there had been no point where he had felt the urged to hide himself from her. Not even when he accidently dropped the whole package of flour over himself and the floor, while trying to put it up into the top shelf.

The kitchen had stayed silence for a few seconds, before she broke out into the most beautiful laugher he had ever heard. It was not played or evil or meant to hurt him. It was a real, clear laugher, about a funny situation.

He felt himself warming more and more up with every day, getting more and more comfortable while being around the human girl. He also loved the apartment she lived in.

It definitely wasn’t as big as the former house he had lived in. The apartment was small, but he loved anything about it. He loved the soft sofa that was placed in the middle of the living room that was so soft and warms with all its cushions and blankets to wrap oneself in.

He loved the small kitchen that would send out the mouth-watering smell of food every evening.

He loved the white hallway with the photo framed wall that he loved to look at when he was bored, because every time he discovered a new detail of them. Like two day ago, when he looked at the picture of Hope and the older women and suddenly realized that they actually have exactly the same smile.

He loved his own room with the big, soft bed in the middle, on which he loved to lay and read a book when Hope was busy. He had often wondered when she knocked on the door, but she had told him that this room was his private territory, and no one was allowed to enter if he didn’t want to.

Together, him and Hope even had created some kind of a daily routine.

In the mornings after he would wake up around 7.30 am. he would wait for Hope to be done showering. When she was done, she would leave the bathroom for him to go his routine, while starting to prepare the breakfast.

In the bathroom, he would take a quick shower, brush his teeth and hair and change into some new clothes.

Then, he and Hope had some breakfast together, before they both made the dished and he helped her to clean the table. After the dishes were done, Hope would sit down on the same kitchen table, writing something into her laptop, which she said was very important for her university graduation.

He often was a little bit sad that they couldn’t talk to each other while she was working on her essay, but he still tried to be as quiet as possible.

He then would either try to read one of the books standing in her bookshelf, try to sleep or he would watch some TV with the minimum of volume. But yesterday, he had found something more interesting to occupy himself with.

In the corner of the living room, he had spotted Hope’s old guitar. He was so curious that he had carefully asked her about it, and she immediately showed him how to use it. She said that she hadn’t played it in years, because she was too busy with university. But when she had pulled some strings of the wooden instrument, she created such a beautiful melody and Jungkook thought that it sounded absolutely amazing.

She even said, that him practicing the guitar, would not be bothering her while she wrote her terms. So, he tried to play the instrument while she worked. She had showed him how to google for tutorials on YouTube. At first, he was sceptical when the human in the TV screen began to talk to him, but soon, he had realized that he wasn’t actually talking to him, but for everyone who clicked on the video.

Sometimes, he would catch himself how he watched the girl working at the table. He would just stare at how she cringed her nose while her fingers slide over the keyboard, how she chewed on her lips as she read through the thick book, or how her tongue would stick out of her mouth when she was concentration really hard.

Beside the wife of his owner, he had never seen a human girl before. He only had seen some visitors of his owner, with all their make-up, pushed up breasts, heavy perfume and fake laughers. He never had thought at one of them to be beautiful, but Hope was.

He found out that she actually was a year younger than him, but her personality seemed to be much older than his. She never wore too revealing clothes or heavy make-up, nor did she ever covered her scent with perfume.

When he noticed how creepy he would stare at her, deeply absorbed in his thoughts, he would turn his attention back to whatever he had been doing before spacing out.

Once she would be done, usually around noon, they would both go into the kitchen and bake a cake together, that would be eaten in the afternoon. While waiting for the cake to be done in the oven, they would sit on the soft couch and talk about random things.

Jungkook had to admit that talking to the girl was one of his favourite things to do each day. Not only because she was a really funny person, or because her voice was so smooth and soft, but also because she actually talked and listened to him.

In the beginning, he sometimes had hesitated, not wanting to speak too much. But by now, he wasn’t afraid of talking too much and being punished for it. He just could talk as much as he wanted without being stopped.

Hope had told him some stories from her childhood and live. He listened to every detail carefully, wanting to give her the same attention she giving him all the time. She would tell him stories about different items in the house, and she even explained him the photos on the wall next to his room when he had asked about them.

Now he knew that the older women was her mom, who had sadly died a few year ago during a car accident. He felt sorry for her when he saw a tear leaving her eye and for a short moment, he had thought about hugging her. But only for a second. The pain and fear were still bounded too deep onto his bones.

The younger people next to her were her best friend from High School. He didn’t miss the sad tone, as she told him that they hadn’t had talked recently, because every one of them was busy with university and their own lives.

She had also told him about her college life. From what she told him, he assumed that she must be really smart.

But he was even more amazed when she told him about her future plans. Hope wanted to be a lawyer for Hybrid rights, because she thought that they deserve more rights than they have now. She thought that they should be equal to human and that she wanted to give them a voice by standing up for their rights.

He couldn’t believe that she actually was fighting for Hybrids to have all the same rights than human have.

He imagined himself and how he would leave the house to go to work every morning, like every human did each day. He imagines himself and how he would go shopping all by himself, or how he would just walk around the park whenever he wanted to. It must be great to fell that free.

When they would be done eating their cake in the afternoon, Hope would always clean up the apartment a little bit. She said that she didn’t want the house to be sterile, but she wanted it to be tidy. She would use the vacuum to clean up the floor in every room, while Jungkook cleaned up the kitchen from when they had baked.

In the evenings, they would both prepare their diner, before eating it together, making the dishes and watch some more TV, until they both were tired. They would brush their teeth again, before changing into a pair of pyjamas and then go to sleep.

“Jungkoooook! Can you come here for a second, pleeeaaaasee!”

The Hybrid’s ears shot up high in the ear when he heard the girl’s voice coming from the living room. He quickly closed the book he was reading on his bed and laid it onto his nightstand. Slowly and a little bit scared that he had done something wrong, he walked out of his room. He carefully peeked his head around the corner, looking into the living room.

“Hey Jungkook.” The girl waved at him when she saw him standing in the hallway.

The boy gulped. Hope didn’t look mad or angry, so he assumed that he didn’t do anything wrong. Rather than mad, she looked really excited and happy as she made her way over to the couch where the boy suddenly spotted something big.

He curiously made a step further into the living room, slowly making his way up towards her. His mind was filled with questions when he saw the girl walking up to the big, brown box next to the sofa. It was much higher than the small girl, almost his hight, and printed with many different signs and…warnings?

Don’t shake. Caution, heavy package! Lift with care.

“Don’t look so scared, Jungkook.” The girl smiled at him when she saw how he hesitated to come near her. “I have a surprise for you.”

He watched as she pulled a small pocket knife out of the pocket of her jeans. She stepped closer to the package and quickly slide the sharp blade of the knife over the plastic strings that were wrapped around the big box.

“A Surprise?” He whispered in disbelieve. “For me?”

“Yes, for you, silly.” She smiled again, as she cut the last string, leaving only the tape wrapped around the box. “Now come over here. I need your help with this.”

He made two big steps until he had reached the girl and the package. Hope was already pulling at the tape trying to rip it off. He lifted his arms up to the top of the box, pulling the tape that was placed there.

His mind was still filled with questions. Never in his life had someone bought him a present, not even on his birthday. He wondered why she had decided to buy him something this big and heavy, after all, she already shared her apartment with him, and this was more than he could ever ask for. He wondered what was hiding inside the brown cardboard, but he knew that whatever it was, he would love it.

He ripped the last piece of tape off, throwing it onto the pile on the ground. The girl was already holding her knife, slicing open the brown cardboard of the box. When she was done, she laid the piece of metal onto the dining table, before turning around. Her eyes were flickering between the Hybrid and the still closed package.

“Come on. It’s for you.” She said after a few seconds of silence. “Open it.”

He was still looking at the girl with wide eyes, before he snapped out of his trance, and just pulled the brown cardboard away carefully.

He gasped and took a step back. Now standing in the middle of the living room, was a big, red sack. It was round and about his height, with a big metal chain on the top, along with some red, big gloves. He didn’t know what this was supposed to be. Never in his life had he seen something strange like this.

“Do you like it?” The girl squeaked excitedly while jumping up and down.

Did he like it? He didn’t even know what this things was used for. What was he supposed to answer? She looked so excited and happy, and the last things he wanted was to hurt her feelings.

“I – ehm…” He hesitated for a moment. “I like it?”

His answer sounded more like a question, and the girl didn’t miss that.

“You don’t know what this is, do you?” She pulled her left eyebrow up, while she watched in amusement as the boy struggled to find an answer. He was too adorable. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I will show you.”

She walked up to the red sack, standing onto her tippy-toes to reach the red gloves from the top. She pushed them into his arms and gestured for the boy to pull them over his hands.

“This is a punching bag.” She said as she walked behind the so called punching bag. “You can punch and kick it to get stronger, or when you are angry. I just thought – you once said that you think of yourself being too thin, and since you can’t go out, I thought that you would like something like that. We can hang it up in your room if you, but if you don’t want it it’s okay, then I will send it back. Come on, punch it.”

The boy stared at the red gloved that were now covering his hands, before looking up at the girl, checking whether she was serious or not. When their eyes met, she smiled and nodded at him to go on.

He carefully lifted his left hand in the air and pushed it forward. His punch was weakly, as if he was scared to hurt the bag.

The girl encouraged him to hit the bag harder this time. Insuring him that he was not hurting someone.

Jungkook lifted both of his hands this time, like he was actually preparing to fight someone. He threw another punch at the bag, which was much harder this time. Then he threw another one with the other hand.

Something inside him had just been woken up, and he was surprises by the power behind his punches. Before he had come to Hope, he was thin and weak, almost too weak to hold himself on his own legs.

Though he had gained some more weight over the last 7 days, he still was not happy with is body statue. He didn’t want to seem weak anymore. He wanted to be strong and powerful, so he could protect himself so he would never had to fear some human ever again in his life.

Being roommate with the small girl, he had recently developed the primal urge to also want to protect the female from all intruders and dangers coming from outside. So this punching bag could be a good chance to actually gain some muscles.

Over and over again, he punched the bag harder and harder, until the girl, who was still steadying the heavy sack, stooped him.

“Okay, okay!” She laughed, and immediately, Jungkook stopped. “I think it is better to hang it up in your room, or else you will punch me around the room. Come on, help me carrying it.”

Together, they carried the bag into the Hybrid’s room. The girl also brought a hammer and a hook for hanging up the punching bag onto the ceiling. The boy watched in amazement, as she climbed up onto a chair and bringing the hook into the ceiling all by herself.

When she was done, he helped her to lift up the bag and hang it up onto the hook. Proudly, she stepped off of the chair and rubbed her hands.

“Do you like it?” She asked again, this time more referring to the position they had hung up the red bag.

“Yes. I like it very much.” He just whispered, not knowing how to thank her appropriated. “Thank you…Hope. Thank you so much.”

They looked for another seconds at each other, before she said that she had to do some more work. She was about to leave, when she suddenly turned back.

“I forgot something.” She spoke more to herself, as she ran out of the room, leaving the confused boy behind. She came back a few minutes later, holding something black in her hands. “I actually have another surprise for you. Well…it’s not actually a surprise but more like a recommendation from me to you.”

She walked back inside the room, making her way up towards his bed. She asked him if she could sat down and he nodded, taking a seat next to her. Jungkook could sense her racing heartbeat and her nervousness. She lifted the black object and placed it on his lap carefully.

“This is a notebook. I – I know that you have been through some tough times, and it’s okay that you don’t want to talk about it with me. But if you ever feel like you need to get something off of you mind, you can just write it in here. Believe me, it helps very much to organized one’s mind into a notebook. I used one for myself when I was younger and didn’t want to talk to someone. So – here.”

Carefully, she lifted her hand and laid it on his for a moment. She knew that he was still afraid when it came to physical affection, but she just needed him to know that she cared.

Jungkook just stared at the notebook and then at her hand that was covering his. His cheeks blushed slightly when he realized that they were actually touching. But somehow, he didn’t feel the urge to pull away.

“The Simpsons, again?” The girl groaned and threw her head backwards, closing her eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

When she opened her eyes again, she immediately was confronted with those big, brown orbs staring into hers. How could she say no? She sighed loudly, while pressing the right button onto the remote.

“Your play wasn’t fair.” She muttered, as she bent over and snatched the bowl of popcorn out of the Hybrid’s hands.

This day had been more then exhausting for the girl, but also a day of many happy occasion. First of all, she had finally finished the majority of her paper terms. It wasn’t perfect yet, but being done so early she had plenty of time for working on the details.

Jungkook wasn’t so pleased when she had worked twice as long for finishing her terms, meaning that he had to bridge twice as much time alone. He had tried a few times to convince her stop working for today, but when he realized that she wouldn’t go after his demand, he just pouted and went to his own room.

Hope had noticed the process Jungkook had made over the past two weeks which made her extremely proud.

Not only mentally, he became much more confident, but also physically. Since the day she bought him his punching back, he had been practicing almost every day. She would hear the dull tones of his gloves hitting the bag, while she would sit in front of her laptop in the dining room.

His skin and body looked much healthier, now. With his cheeks red and more plump, and with his shoulder and arms that seemed to get much and much broader every day, there was nothing left from the shy, injured boy from two weeks ago.

She had also noticed, that he actually wasn’t too averse to physical affection as she had thought. She thought that she had crossed a border when she touched his hands without his permission a few day before, but since then, he only seemed to trust her more.

He wouldn’t pull his hands away anymore, when their hands accidently touched. He also wouldn’t sit on the couch as far away from her as possible, instead, he even agreed to share the same blanket two nights ago.

He also had taken in her recommendation when she had given him the notebook. She sometimes watched him as he was bent over the small book, writing something in with fast and hectic movements. Sometimes, she wondered if he was actually writing, or if he was just sketching some pictures or signs. But then, he could read, so she assumed that he had learned how to write, too.

When he was done, he would just lay his pen aside, and stare at the book for several minutes, completely spaced out. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, but decided to not go for it. He should always have the chance to organize his thoughts without her bothering him.

The second exciting thing that had happened this day, was Jungkook accompanying her towards the grocery store. It wasn’t planned at all, but lately he had asked her more often if there was a chance that he could leave the apartment. At least one time.

Lucky for him, he had a short fluffy tail that was normal hidden by his shorts, and his ears could be easily covered by a beanie. He had looked like a normal, healthy and happy young man, when he had strolled behind her through the hallways of shelves.

It made her even more sat that he indeed was a normal boy. He had never asked to be bred in a laboratory. He had never asked to be threatened like a slave in his own home, and he especially deserved nothing mor than to feel normal. One day – One day he would get the chance to feel normal. She would to anything in her power to give him that chance.

“We can also watch something else if – if you want.” Jungkook ripped her out of her thoughts.

He had curled up under the blanket beside her, nudging his head into the soft pillow behind him. His ears were sprawled out to one side and all over the soft cushion, as well as his deep brown hair. The day in the supermarket had really worked him out.

The boy was so focused on the TV playing his favourite cartoon, that he didn’t notice how the girl took a quick picture of his being curled up on the couch. She looked at the taken picture for a few seconds, before closing her phone and throwing into onto the couch.

A sudden idea came into her head. The boy’s birthday was coming up soon, and she was still thinking of a nice surprise for. She knew he loved all of the photos that were placed all around the apartment. He loved to look at them every morning while she worked, and he loved even more when she told him the story behind every single photo, even if she had told them to him for several times.

What if he would wake up on his birthday, leaving his room and seeing a photo of him framed and hung up onto the wall? She actually like that idea.

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked for her phone. Why did she had to throw it away so far from her? She groaned. If she wanted to memo her idea, she needed to move now. She pushed the blanket away and bent over to reach her phone.

While doing so, she accidentally pushed her hand onto the remote, that laid next to her. The TV screen went black for a moment, before popping up with a new picture.

In the middle of the screen was now a news reporter talking. Hope didn’t pay him any attention. She was still occupied with her phone, when suddenly the Hybrid next to her shot up from his lying position.

He sat straight up, his mouth slightly open and his ears high up in the ear. Like paralyzed, his wide open eyes were fixed on the screen where the report was still talking about something the girl hadn’t caught yet.

“Jungkook?” She asked quietly, but he didn’t’ move an inch. “Jungkook, are you –“

“Shhhhh!” He didn’t even looked at her, as he shushed her shut, pointing his finger wildly onto the TV screen.

“…Unfortunately, the police had not been arriving in time. Witnessers though spotted some of the rarest breeds under the illegal participant Hybrids. Among them were Asiatic lions, some Azawakh dog and even an Amur Leopard. All of these Hybrids belong to the rarest breeds of the world. Dealing or participating them in illegal fighting clubs is highly is highly punished…”

Bullshit. None of those people will ever be arrested, and this guy in the TV knew it. If illegal dealers or ZCM’s, so called ‘Zoo Club Members’ or owners who send their Hybrids to illegal fighting clubs, were caught, there was neither someone who wanted to defend the Hybrids in front of the judge, nor no one even cared to actually bring the case in front of a judge.

She turned her head over to the hybrid sitting on her couch, but she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. When he had jumped up from the couch, she thought that he got scared because of the sudden change of the TV channel, but what she saw broke her heart.

The bunny Hybrid had laid his ears flat against his head, while big tears were spilling out of his eyes. Between short sobs and gasps he whispered two words all over again.

“Jin Hyung.”

[inspirations | recommendations] ⇉ 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀!

@wishesunderthestars

@agustdakasuga

@ditttiii

@angelicyoongie

@starlightauroras-writes

[mercuvry]

perfect (angst)

⊰ — listen to: perfect by selena gomez, I wrote this based on that song <3

⊰ — summary: how far will you go to be loved? even if it means you having to change into something perfect?

⊰ — warnings: cheating partner, very, very, very slight suggestive smut?, kinda low self-worth for y/n? (idk how to word it differently but watch out fOR THAT) y/n wanting to be someone else, lotta lowkey/mild angst?

⊰ — author's note: please don’t take this too seriously! this is a work of fiction! I really hope this doesn’t offend anyone by writing this, I’ve always wanted to write a little story based on the lyrics of this song even since I first heard it. please don’t read if you think this would make you uncomfortable! I tried to write this gender neutral but if I use any certain pronouns for y/n, please tell me/bear with me! also, sorry for any typos/weird sounding sentences and for using a lot of commas :)) I hope u enjoy!! you are wonderful just the way you are, please don’t ever forget that <3

"do you love her?” you ask. to your surprise, you say it without your voice cracking. you sound firm, and you’re wondering how that could be when on the inside, you’re breaking.

you shift your eyes to look at him. him. the one you love. the one who you thought loved you. but if he loved you, how could he do this? how could he do this to you? 

you’re both sitting on the bed you shared together. all the late nights staying up together under the covers, just talking until the sun rose up, talking about anything and everything. all the countless times where you just stared into each other’s eyes and in awe of how love you had between you. the times where you both felt comfortable in each other’s arms, taking everything in, letting everything go, letting you both admire each other in ways only lovers admire. lovers, huh.

mark doesn’t look back at you, although you’re sure he could feel your eyes on him. he stares off into space, slowly rubbing his hands together.

it felt like an eternity, until he finally answered you.

you already knew the answer, so why did you even ask?

you felt something different when he didn’t say his usual greeting to you in the mornings.

“good morning beautiful,” he would say when you have just woken up, still having bed head and morning breath. he would then kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, then your nose, then planting a passionate, yet quick kiss on your lips would usually follow.

but he had stopped doing that. that’s when you noticed something was wrong.

you kept on thinking you had done something. sure, you would have little fights about stupid things. why didn’t you clean up after yourself? why didn’t you do the dishes like I told you to do? things like that. but, then you both stopped having fights like that.

he began to become distant. therefore, there was nothing to fight about.

you thought maybe you weren't showing enough affection for him like he would for you. you tried to be more loving, more romantic. buying him things. hugging him more. giving him unexpected pecks on the cheeks, you knew he loved those. you used to do that to him all the time and he would always blush, smile real big and tackle you to give you more kisses. but, he soon got tired of you kissing him all the time and he told you to stop. other times he wouldn't say anything at all. he would just ignore you.

you both would ask how was each other’s days. him always being the first one to ask you, not that you didn’t want to ask him, but when he came home from practice the first thing he would do is hug and kiss you, then ask how your day went. he would always have a smile on his face when he asked. would always have a smile on his face when he saw you run to him when he opened the door. when he waited for you to jump in his arms and spin you around. if anyone else could see those greetings, they would think you missed each other because he was gone for a couple months, not a couple of hours.

he would tell you every single detail of how his day went, even the unimportant ones. “the water in the practice room was warm today,” or “jisung was being really cute today.” but when he had come home, when you already knew something was wrong, he never held out his arms to greet you. his smile would be replaced with a frown. not an angry or sad frown, but just a normal frown. like he wasn’t that excited to see you. like there was something more important on his mind. it killed you not knowing what it was.

then you began to encounter things that would deepen the doubt you had. first, it was the words he would say at night when he would be sleeping. the name of a woman you don't remember him mentioning of ever knowing. saying things about her that he used to only say about you. then it was the smell. the feminine, floral scent on his clothes and on his skin. the scent that you did not wear. the scent you began to hate.

until you began to wonder, what it is about this new infatuation that made him turn away from you? you listened to him at night, smelled his clothes, and began pondering over what she did to him to make him fall for her. what do you do different that doesn't make him lust after you?

you wonder how she touches him, his body, and his heart and if you could do it too. you wonder how she laughs and how she makes him laugh. oh, how her laugh must be like to have it curving off her back for him. you even wonder to the point of you, yourself, whispering her name in your sleep. dreaming of how you could be like her. dreaming of how beautiful she must be. dreaming of how perfect she must be.

you sharply inhaled. that one word makes your heart drop down to your stomach, immediately feeling the sharp pain that felt like it was in your throat as you try and hold back your tears that were already falling.

you already knew the answer. what made you think he would say anything different?

out of the corner of your eye, you see mark get off the bed, lifting up his hand as if he was going to say something, but doesn't. instead he just shakes his head and walks out of the former room you two shared.

you get up and follow him out of the room and towards the front door where he was heading. you wanted to say something to him, anything, but before you could you now see the boxes by the door which you hadn't before. boxes filled with his clothes and his personal things. the boxes that would be, no doubt, going to her place. the perfect one that you both dreamt of.

the sight of those boxes made the words you wanted to say no longer on the tip of your tongue or in your head. your brain now replaces the words with the gorgeous made up face you think his current lover wears. that perfect face.

he bent down to lift one of the boxes and put it onto another, picked those two up and open the front door. he leaves the door open as you do nothing and just watch him walk down your front lawn, opening the trunk to his car and putting his boxes in. he then walks back up to your door and does the same thing, never looking back or up at you. never saying a word.

eventually he picks up the last box, the tears you once shed are beginning to dry down your neck, he almost walks through the doorway before he stops for a few seconds and turns to the side. not fully facing you nor the outside world and looks at the wooden doorway. secretly wondering if he's really doing this, if he's really in control or just on autopilot. he tries to think what to say or if he should anything. but is there any words that would comfort you from what he's doing to you?

from what feels like forever, mark finally looks at you and you just stare at his box. the last box that holds the last of his stuff in your house. the last thing that's keeping him there. you want to start begging on your knees for him to stay, to say that you'll be like her, that you'll act like her if only he stays. the other half of you wanting to kick the box out of his hands and make him tell you who she is. however, the only thing you do is stand there, the only thing your body lets you do.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out. he looks at you for a moment longer and then he finally leaves and closes the door. closing the door to the house you shared together, to the life you had together, to the love you had for one another, and to you; the one soul who he was supposed to love for the rest of his life until he found another, perfect one to care for.

[xebecatt2002]

Historical Background Details in 'When in Rome'

Season 3’s ‘When In Rome’ is packed full of historical references. The story itself revolves around several key historical events and people like Julius Caesar, Pompey and the conquest of Gaul so much in fact that I’ll cover those in another post. What I want to discuss here is the few ‘Blink and you’ll miss it’ references featured in the background of the episode.

One set piece that appears a few times in this episode is the wolf statue in Caesar’s Palace. It sits in the main hall of Caesar’s place and can be seen in background of a couple of key scenes.

The statue is modelled closely on the famous bronze statue known as the ‘Capitoline Wolf’ which you can still in Rome today. The statue is of the two legendary founders of Rome, Romulus and his brother Remus, being suckled by a She-Wolf. The origin of the statue is unknown and there is some debate as to its age, but it is generally believed that the wolf is early Etruscan and dates to the 5th century BC while the statues of the twins are believed to be a much later addition.

Comparing the Xena prop with the original from Rome you can see the Xena one closely copies the overall shape of the wolf and the poses of the babies. Sadly, we don’t get any close ups of the Xena statue though from the lighting it appears they didn’t include any of the engraved details. As it is a background piece not intended for close ups it is understandable that they would save time by not over embellishing it.

As briefly mentioned above the statue is of the founders of Rome. According to myth, Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus who were the sons of a Vestal Virgin called Rhea Silvia. She was the daughter of Numitor, the rightful king of Alba Longa who was deposed by his brother Amulius. After seizing his brother’s throne, Amulius feared opposition to his rule. Once source of contention could come from a future child of his niece, the former princess. Any grandchild of his brother would be a rival to the throne. To prevent this, and to ensure the death of his brother’s bloodline, he forced her to become a Vestal Virgin. As a priestess to the goddess Vesta, she would have been sworn to celibacy. As in many myths, however, the gods intervened and she was impregnated by the god of War, Mars.

When Rhea gave birth to the twins, the king ordered that they be thrown into the River Tiber. Accounts differ here as to whether they were swept downstream or if the unwilling servant just left them on the riverbank but what they do agree is that they were found by a she wolf who suckled them until a shepherd found them and adopted the children. Later as, adults they would discover the truth about their heritage and return to depose the king who had usurped their grandfather’s throne. Once they returned the kingdom back to Numitor they left the kingdom to found their own city. However, during the foundation of their new city the two brothers quarrelled, and Romulus killed his brother Remus thus becoming the first leader of the settlement that would become Rome.

This image of the brothers and the wolf would be used throughout Roman history as a symbol for the city of Rome. As well as statues the wolf and twins would be engraved in stone and even found on some of the earliest coins. As a Roman politician it is understandable that Caesar would image in such a prominent place in his palace on full display to his guests. Yet there is another, more personal reason why and that is it that because the statue is of his ancestors.

The Julii family claimed decent from the goddess of love, Venus. Venus was the mother of another legendary founder of the Roman people, the hero Aeneas. Aeneas was a prince of Troy who fled the city when it fell to the Greek’s during the Trojan war and lead the refugees to settle in Italy. His descendants would become the ruling Alba Longa dynasty that the future founder of Rome, Romulus, would belong to.

The story is famously described in the work of the poet Virgil who weaves history and legend into an epic poem written in the style of the great works of Homer. Virgil wrote his work during the time of Augustus, the first Roman Emperor, the Great-Nephew and adopted son of Julius Caesar. After a period of civil war, the work was a celebration of Augustus, the greatness of Rome and its destiny to become a dominant empire. (Might sound a bit familiar to Xena fans lol)

Aeneas suffers several trials on his journey to a new homeland. In these dark times he is given glimpses into the future to give him encouragement and remind him he is working towards a greater future, the future that is Rome. One such moment is when he finds his father Anchises in the underworld who shared with him that his son is destined to found the dynasty of Alba Longa. He points out to Aeneas the spirits of his future descendants and tells him of their achievements including Romulus

‘Look at him, my son. Under his auspices will be founded Rome in all her glory, whose empire shall cover the earth and whose spirit shall rise to the heights of Olympus’ Aeneid, 6.781-783

Straight after this introduces him to Augustus Caesar and the ‘sons of Iulus’, connecting the emperor and his family with these legends. Iulus would be a name adopted by Aeneas’ son from his first wife, Ascanius. Ascanius Iulus would become the founder of Alba Longa and give his name to the Julii family.

Virgil creates this connection again later Aeneas is presented by Venus a shield made my Hephaestus which is decorated with scenes of his descendants and Rome’s past.

‘He had made too, a mother wolf stretched out in the green cave of Mars with twin boys playing round her udders, hanging there unafraid and suckling at her as she bent her neck back to lick each of them in turn and mould their bodies into shape with her tongue.’ Aeneid 630-4

The procession starts again with Romulus, featuring the exact image of him and his brother being reared by the wolf. Though it is unlikely that the two are connected, Virgil’s description does invoke the image of the statue in the way the wolf is almost turning its head. As before the scene ends with an image of Augustus Caesar, Caesar’s heir, in prominent centre of the shield firmly placing the Emperor within Rome’s historic and mythic past.

From the work of Virgil we get the idea of how Julius Caesar could claim he was related to Romulus. I tried to recreate the Julian genealogical tree to help demonstrate the link.

To have this statue of his prestigious ancestors on display in his public rooms of his palace he is clearly demonstrating his authority in Rome and impress others with his status. On a more subtle note, it’s also symbolic of his desire to rule Rome, to become it’s sole leader just like Romulus was and just like Romulus fought with his brother, Caesar is fighting with his allies for control of Rome as shown in the scene of Caesar and Pompey competing for control of Rome’s resources. Funnily enough this takes place in front of the statue of Romulus and Remus.

Caesar could claim to be related to both the founder of the Roman people, Aeneas, and the founder of the city, Romulus, would certainly have added to his sense of ‘destiny’ and entitlement to rule Rome.

Another little historical detail worth mentioning is featured on the standards used to decorate the same great hall the wolf stands.

The standards feature the historic inscription S.P.Q.R. This stands for Senātus Populusque Rōmānus which translates to The Senate and the People of Rome. It’s a phrase that appears in historical literature and in inscriptions as a signature to the power of the Roman Government.

Roman standards a banner which identified a particular military unit. As well as decorative they had a more practical use as rallying points or for sending signals on the battle field. These would be decorated with a number of different images but the most well known is the Aquila or Eagle. The eagle appears to be the insignia used on the standards found in Caesar's palace.

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 06

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, music snob!Remus,  Author’s notes: song used: Come Together by The Beatles

BTW: I always try to use little to no physical descriptions for the reader insert but I did add that the reader has some sort of hair. I didn't mention hair texture or length (Sorry if ur bald). My taller readers, I only mentioned that you were shorter than Remus (no height was given)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: ABBA vs. The Beatles 

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“Merlin’s beard! Binns is a sadist; torturing students must be his only pastime,” James yawned, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

Nothing could ever compare to the History of Magic. Today, lessons were dreadful and muddy. Professor Binns’ monotone voice filtered throughout the class, rambling on and on about various dates in history. Hardly anyone paid attention before he started calling on students. Annoyed, Binns would continue to reiterate his inquiry until the student(s) got the correct answer, no matter how long it took.

A sadist indeed.

Although Binns wasn’t the sole reason why the class was pathetic, but rather the lack of any practical work was simply a joke. The class only reminded Y/N of her short time in public school. Geometry? Utterly useless for any daily life interactions. To make matters worse, Binns surprised the class with a pop-quiz and two chapters of reading. Luckily, he had an ounce of mercy in his ghostly body and dismissed the class early for lunch.

James continued, “I would rather fight a dragon than — Woah! Your hair! “

She glanced to look at herself through the reflection in James’ glasses. Her hair, which originally was emerald green, was now turning into a golden yellow. The different colours clashed together boldly.

“You look like the banner for the Holyhead Harpies,” Peter said, striding up to James’ side.

“The Holyhead Harpies,” James said dreamily, “They’re probably one of my favourite teams.

Remus, who had been trailing behind Peter jumps in, “You only like them because they’re all women, you wanker.” He turns to Peter, his hand shooting up to the side of his head, massaging small circles into his temples, “Why’d you get him going?”

James became insufferable whenever someone or something mentioned Quidditch. Not only would he boast about his abilities as a Chaser, but he seemingly was a never-ending encyclopedia about Quidditch. It only worsened as November neared, the start of the new Quidditch season was approaching.

One time Y/N found herself stuck listening to him babble about Ireland winning the world cup for about thirty minutes. She didn’t have the heart to stop him, though. Nobody listened to his rants and he could hardly contain his excitement. How could she tell him she wasn’t interested?    

A monstrous smirk etched its way onto his face, “Caught me.”

“Be anymore of a predator would ya, Prongs?”

“Hey! That’s not the only reason why I like them. Did you forget their victory in 1953 against the Heidelberg Harriers? Their strategy was blood-fucking-brilliant. They’re legendary! My father was there to see it in person. Lucky bastard. He told me…”

His voice fades into the background as Y/N catches Remus’ eyes. A glint of mischief shined through them before he forced a fake pitiful smile. He mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to her before looping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, discreetly leaving James’ side and out of the classroom.

That sly, slippery bastard.  

"— and did I mention that their seeker was one of the most sought out —”

“Wait, James.”

He abruptly pauses, waiting patiently for her to continue. She leads them out into the corridor and towards the great hall. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off like that, but when is my hair going back to normal?”

Y/N instantly regretted mentioning her hair. There was no trace of a smile on James. His shoulders slumped a bit and his walking even staggered. “Godric, I know, I know and I’m sorry. I thought it would have returned back to normal by now. I’ve been creating reversal spells — even started asking Moony to help.”

“Moony?”

“Remus.”

“Another one of your nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname! It’s a brotherhood — a pack!”

“Oh, sorry Prongs,” she drawled, a sarcastic smile on her face, “If I didn’t know you I would assume you were an asshole.”

“What? How?!”

“You go around calling yourself a marauder, the king of Quidditch and now Prongs. Seems pretty assholely.”

James’ mouth opens before closing again, repeating the process several times.

“Plus, you pull silly pranks every day.”

He chuckles, “Oi! You helped us with that itching idea!”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, “Touché.”

To this, James shakes his head, directing the conversation back to the Holyhead Harpies. Inwardly, Y/N wanted to whack him with a broomstick.

They were among the first students to reach the Great Hall, aside from students who had a free or were excused early by Professor Binns. None of the girls were there yet. Unfortunately, Marlene was held back by Binns, so Y/N was left to sit beside James who sat opposite to Remus, Peter and Sirius.

She had been trying her best to avoid Sirius whenever she could. It was clear he didn’t like her. He never laughed whenever she made a joke, he hardly noticed her, he never praised her, even if she tried to compliment him. He was just rude for no apparent reason. The rest of the marauders and girls knew this, although they preferred not to comment about the obvious, strained relationship (which they didn’t even know the reason for. Granted, Y/N wasn't quite sure herself. Was it the rejection, he just didn't like her or is just an ass?).

Although, ignoring and avoiding him proved to be extremely challenging. Y/N was glued to Lily’s hip ever since the Sorting Ceremony. It also didn’t help that if you were with one marauder, another one was sure to follow. She and James started to spend more time with each other, and by extension, she was obligated to be around at least one other marauder. With the addition of study sessions with Remus, it was inevitable.

Surprisingly, Sirius hadn’t made any snarky remarks, excluding dirty looks, he was being… nice — nicer to her. The action was a stark contrast from his previous behaviour and she speculated a few reasons why:

Most likely, James or Lily, she assumed the former, said something to him. Since his little spat with James at breakfast a few weeks ago, Sirius was tight-lipped ever since.

Maybe he was done being a prick, deciding to stop by himself after realizing he was a prick.

Went through something personal, it stopped, and his behaviour improved.

Minutes after the bell rang, students began to trickle in for lunch. The comfortable chatter rose as Y/N finished eating an apple. Everyone seemed pleased when James’ Quidditch lecture was interrupted as hundreds of owls streamed in, packages and letters dropping into the laps of students. She hadn’t expected anything considering her owl, Celeste, didn’t drop anything off since the first week of October. However, today she fluttered down between the bread and fruit bowls, dropping off several letters and a small parcel onto Y/N’s plate, pecking at the bread crumbs on the table. She tore the letter open, inside it said:

Dear Y/N,  

Are you still having a hard time with Charms? If so, perhaps I find some textbooks and send them over.  

Don’t slack off this year. Send me a letter whenever you have the chance. (Make sure to tell Celeste to be quieter next time. You know I can, and never will get used to the owls.)  

Mom  

Her mother finally wrote to her. A sense of joy flooded her body as she placed the letter back down on the oak table. A part of her wondered if Celeste was dropping off her letters to the wrong house, the one back in Toronto as her mother never wrote back. She opened the next letter, immediately recognizing the messy scrawl:

October 19, 1975  

Y/N! I thought you replaced me with one of your brits, but a false alarm, your letters just take a while to arrive. Must be tiring for Celeste to travel to and from Scotland then America and back. You know, whenever people see her fly in, they still recognize her.  

Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re throwing another dance. Going to be alone this year now that I can’t force you to come. I guess I’ll just watch half the school dry hump each other while I smuggle in firewhiskey.

How’s it going over there? I heard from a few students, even read in the papers about the war. It’s getting pretty crazy over here. Teachers have been meeting and trying to prevent students and parents from losing their shit. My mom has been worried too, writing to me like a lunatic and I’m not even in the UK. The MACUSA have been keeping quiet but they were caught having meetings with counsellors from the Ministry of Magic. Even heard that Jenkins is stepping down. If it keeps getting out of hand here, I can’t imagine what it must be like at Hogwarts. I truly thought the war was dying down, I was wrong. Keep your wand close. Surely, you’ll get away with a hex or two.

Until next time

Matthew G.  

So engrossed in her new environment, her old life slipped to the back of her mind. There was a detachment from her reality compared to the one at home. A pang of guilt hit her, swallowing her up from the inside out until another pang hit, loneliness. If she easily forgot everyone, would anyone remember her? None of her old friends, apart from Matthew, had made a move to contact her since she left.

Often thinking about writing them first, she had to remind herself if they wanted to, they would. Especially with the knowledge that people still recognized Celeste.

Was she forgettable and if so, was it karma for forgetting too?

It put a mechanical vice grip on her heart, applying just enough pressure to be a constant reminder. With every beat, it tightened more and more.

Looking around the table, she saw her peers huddle in groups, familiar laughter ringing throughout. So noisy, so taunting. She may have been friends with Lily, Dorcas, James or even Marlene, but they had their own friends. Friendships that had years to develop before she came. She had only known them for less than two months.

Forgettable.

How hilarious, she thought.

“Hey,” a gentle voice cooed into her ear, “Are you okay?”

She hummed back absentmindedly.

James wore a concerned expression, his eyes knitted together, one raised higher than the other like it always does when he was worried. The look he shot her suggested he wasn’t convinced, although he didn’t press; instead opting to stir the conversation. “So, who wrote to you?”

“A friend and my mom —”

A snort so loud that it caused the rest of the marauders, random onlookers and even Lily (who had a look of pure disgust on her face) turned towards them. “What did you say?”

“I got a few letters?”

“No!” He bellowed, “Who sent you them?”

“My friend and my mom —”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, James clutched his stomach laughing. Laughing so hard he has to grip the table to prevent falling off the hall bench. "Haha! Mom?! MOM?” He mocked in a poor American accent, “What the fuck is mom? It’s MUM. Bollocks!”

“We say vitamin.”

“It’s VIT-A-MIN! Who says VIGHT-A-MIN?” Without a pause, James presses his entire body onto her shoulder, smushing her before grabbing the letter her mother sent her. His eyes scanned across the pages before hitting a certain word. “Back home? Maple trees? Where did you use to live exactly?”

“Canada.”

“Canada?! You don’t mean those snowy gits?” At this, Peter and Remus snort under their breaths. Even Lily had to force down a smile.

Staring deadpanned at him, in an unamused voice, “Really?”

“You are a bundle of surprises! I thought you lived… I’m not sure. I assumed somewhere like New Hork.”

“York,” Lily corrects.

“Tomato, tomato,” he jokes, playfully batting his eyes at Lily before biting into his sandwich, “You do live in London, right?”

“Right.”

James takes a moment, letting the conversation die down before he quickly glances at Y/N again. An undecipherable expression crosses his face before it’s promptly replaced with elation, “I take back anything negative I’ve said about Canada. They have an amazing Quidditch rooster. Have you gone to any of their games?”

A low grumble of sighs follows at the mention of Quidditch from James. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus shake his head and sighed dejectedly.

“Nah, I’m a New-Maj, remember? My mom — “

“Mum —”

“ — sorry, Mum — hardly understands the wizarding world, let alone what Quidditch is.”

His eyes were wide, whimsical, as a hand flew to his chest dramatically, “Rubbish! Bloody ridiculous! You’ve never seen a real Quidditch game? One day, I swear I’ll bring you to one! Or you can bring me to Canada one day and we can watch a home game!”

As James continued to rant, Y/N’s mind slowly drifted back to the bitterness in her chest. Trying to distract herself, she borrowed Lily’s quill and a few sheets of parchment, scribbling down letters in response.

Mom,  

I’m fine with Charms, you don’t need to send anything. And don’t worry, I’ve been studying for my OWLs.  

Love you, write soon.

The next letter was addressed to Matthew:

Matty Matt,

Of course, I didn’t replace you… yet. 

Another dance? You would think the students’ protest last year would have influenced the professors this time. I guess it’s time for you to get wasted. I didn’t tell you last time but I think I’m going to a party. A friend of mine is throwing it and I know he’s going to force me to come no matter what. He briefly mentioned costumes and drinks. Plus, there’s going to be some kind of prank that I may or may have not been a part of? Sounds cool right?  

Yeah, I’d say it’s been bad up here. I don’t know much about what's going on outside of school, though. The professors are hiding it well. I didn’t even hear about Jenkins stepping down. Keep me updated.  

Until next time  

She sealed the letters before sending Celeste off again, “Be quieter when you drop off the letters, yeah?”

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It must be her lucky day.

The ringing of the bell went off, signalling the end of class. Professor Flitwick asked the students to stay behind so he could hand out quizzes the students completed on Monday in preparation for their upcoming test on Growth and Reductor charms the following Tuesday.

It was never a good sign when a professor flips your test over to prevent other students from seeing their mark. Flipping it over at a downwards angle, Flitwick handed Y/N her quiz.

Turning it over nervously, a tight coil formed in the pit of her stomach. A large P was plastered on the top right corner in bold red ink. She studied hard for this too. Angrily, she shoved her work into her bag and left the class. This was the third poor she'd gotten in a row. She should have told her mother she needed those Charm books.

“I swear I’m going mad! Her brother is a complete cow! He even — are you listening?”

She looks at the girl beside her, Marlene. Her glossed over, doe eyes must have served as an answer before the blonde shook her head.

“Sorry, distracted,” she mumbles, before forcing out a fake-happy tone, “Continue your story! I wanna hear!”

“Hey,” Marlene says in a softer voice, “If something’s bothering you, you can talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she replies instinctively. She felt bad spacing out during Marlene’s story but her mind was running through and under hoops. The last thing any fifth year student needed was to fall behind in their classes, let alone feeling like nobody cared about them.

At that moment, she wished she was wrapped away in red and gold blankets to wallow in her self-pity party, away from prying eyes. She could feel the burning sensations of tears building up.

Dammit.

Y/N looked out the window to her left. The sky was melting with the warm hues of reds and yellows while the other half was being slowly engulfed into a cloak of twilight. Even from here, she could feel the cool air seeping in from the windows making her tug on the sleeves of her robes.

She continued, “I’m just tired — been a long day. I’m going to take a nap before dinner. See you.”

Judging by the look on Marlene and Lily’s face, guilt riddles her body. They both look sympathetic. The pity only made Y/N feel disgusting. In all honesty, Y/N will care later. Right now wasn’t the time and she desperately needed some shut-eye.

Before she left the room, she overheard them talking.

“What’s up with her?”

“Dunno.”

Great.

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Sleep did little to ease her thoughts.

The same uneasiness she felt on the train ride to Hogwarts settled deep into her bones again. She thought she was past this. The worrying about friends, missing home, feeling alone, failing class, stressing about her future. The rational part of her brain knew it was just one silly quiz (and old shitty friends), but knowing herself, if she were to continue to have this mindset, she would only fail in the end.

Dinner ended and Y/N belligerently climbed up the stairs towards the library to attend today’s study session. The Charms quiz threw her into a loop and it was better not to dwell on it, opting to rather use her time for something useful.

Her marks improved significantly since she attended her first session two weeks ago. The last couple of assignments and quizzes she handed in that she worked on during the groups were some of her best work, ever. Additionally, her ability to retain information was improving at astonishing rates and she found herself participating in lessons more often. Unfortunately, she started to doubt her abilities again.

There weren’t as many students as usual. Perhaps it was because of the Quidditch meeting for all teams tonight, or because nobody wanted to spend their time in a library Friday night. She assumed it was the latter.

Although, the same student with black hair from Slytherin was there; tucked away in his usual corner. He was always there. Whether it was the study sessions, another OWL or NEWT student or he simply just enjoyed the library, Y/N could always rely on him sitting there in his little nook.

In the far back, surrounded by tall bookshelves sat Remus. Another student, a first or second year, judging by their height, seemed to be asking him a question, rapidly writing down something on a piece of parchment whilst they walked away. Remus leaned back in the brown chair, his right leg was folded over the other as he stretched.

She spent over twelve hours minimum with Remus directly since the first session, minus the time he was around James and the girls. Perhaps she only started to notice afterwards but she swore Remus wasn’t around this much before. Now, he was everywhere.

In the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, she made a mental list in her head of him:

1. Remus loves sweaters. They weren’t flashy, seemingly preferring to wear ones with small designs, stripes or a solid colour. He wore green the most. He also wore cardigans. Two, in particular, he wore the most; one was white and the other was a muted brown. They were big and hung off his loose frame, the pockets were often stuffed with books, rumpled parchment and his wand.

2. He’s a coffee addict. He drank it in the morning, the afternoon, at the study session and sometimes with meals at dinner. He loved to dump pounds of sugar, so if he only drank black coffee, it usually meant he was in a bad mood. James even joked that he became Sirius whenever he drank black coffee, because haha! Get it? It’s BLACK coffee!

3. He frequented the library whenever he wasn’t with the rest of the marauders. He enjoyed poetry, wrote post-it notes after post-it notes to annotate his favourite parts. He even slept there from time to time, not without having to persuade Pince to not give him detention.

As if Remus magically sensed her, he took a large inhale before he stopped stretching, opening his eyes to look at her. A small smile was plastered on each other’s faces. He stuck up a few fingers to wave at her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi Y/N. I thought you didn’t come on Fridays?”

“I don’t but I have a test, Charms, Tuesday.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, Professor Lupin, but just being down here will help me focus.”

A scarlet blush settled on his face at the mention of his tutoring. “Well come sit with me then.”

Pushing the chair out of the way, she sat down beside him, pulling out her cassette player and earbuds along with her notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus staring at the player curiously.

“Do you want to listen?”

“If you don't mind. I didn’t know you could use these here.” Picking it up, he turned the rectangular device.

“If record players work here, why not this?”

She hands him an earbud, alongside a small collection of other tapes she had on hand.

“Choose whatever you want to listen to.”

Without much thought, he pressed the play button. The upbeat tune of Waterloo by ABBA trickled into their ears. Y/N bobbed her head up and down before the song was suddenly stopped.

A sour grimace sat on Remus’ face before their eyes met, his nose upturned slightly.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“I hate ABBA.”

“What!?”

“I just don’t like their cheesy disco-pop-esk sound. They sound generic and random words are thrown in when they don’t add to the song.”

“Jeez— never met anyone who hated them that much.”

A ghost of a smile appeared before he flicked through her collection of tapes. He picked up Abbey Road by The Beatles. Opening the player up, he slid out Waterloo. With a click and the press of a button, Come Together played.

“So you hate ABBA but not The Beatles? Benny and Bjorn said they were influenced by them!”

“Keyword: Influenced; which is just another word for a shitty knock-off version.”  

4. Remus Lupin is apparently a music snob.

“Well, I think both are good.”

“Respectfully, I disagree with you.”

“Whatever you say, professor.”  

"I've been thinking a bit, why did you come to Hogwarts? Why not just stay at your old school?"

The sudden switch of topics threw her into a loop. “Wasn’t by choice. My mom’s a doctor and got a position here. It was too good to turn down. But it’s not bad. There’s less wizarding laws.”

He nods his head, "I'm assuming you have dual citizenship?"

"Mhm."

About a half an hour passed as she sighed for the umpteenth time before putting down her quill. Her chair scraped back noisily as Y/N’s hand balled up into a tight fist, feeling her fingernails bite into her palm. She’d been flicking through her notes, the words all blended.

At this rate, if History of Magic didn’t exist, Charms would surely be her least favourite class.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She was at a loss, this was the third time Remus had offered to help and he was persistent. She felt horrible that she was taking up his time to help her on a stupid Charms test.

He continued, “If you think bothering me is an issue, it’s not. I run the sessions on Friday. It’s my job.”

“Fine, but there has to be something I can do in return.”

“Hmm,” Remus pondered for a second, “How about this, I tutor you in Charms and in return you give me your Potions notes? I'm dreadful at it.”

“Deal.”

“Great. Before we start, is there anything in particular that you have questions on?”

Silently tapping on the quiz she received today, Remus snatched it and quickly scanned over her answers and Professor Flitwick’s notes.

“I see what happened. You know, the curriculum taught at Ilvermorny is different. That’s probably why you can’t understand some of this shit.” He cleared his throat, “So as we know, the growth charm increases the size of your intended target…”

His voice, like a light switch, changed instantly. Instead of his softer deep, raspier voice, it became commanding and steady. He never stumbled over his words and articulated his points elegantly. She found herself enraptured by him, understanding why he was in charge of the study groups.

Eventually, Remus takes a pause, “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. You know, you’re really good at this. No matter how much I asked Flitwick or even Lily I could never get it.”

A large blush bloomed on the apples of his cheeks before he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I’m not that good.”

“No time for modesty, Professor Lupin!”

“Okay, okay! So here, do you see what went wrong? There would be a reaction with those two spells if —”

A boy, small, most likely a second year, stood at the foot of the shared table holding a large red and gold book. His hair, dark ginger, similar to Lily’s, was cut short. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued to stare at the two.

“... Um, hi. You're Remus — right?”

“Yup. Did you need help with something?”

“Yes! I’m having trouble with the Transfiguration spell, beetle into button.”

A look of understanding passed through his face before Remus turns to look at her, “Duty calls. It’ll be quick.”

“Of course, take your time.”

It was not quick. Understandably, very few were successful at the ginger’s age to perform the spell, but thirty minutes passed and the second year still didn’t understand the basic concepts. No matter how many times Remus had reiterated his point differently, the boy couldn’t retain it.

“I just don’t get it.”

“You learned this last year, it's a quick revision. I’m not sure what part you’re talking about. Look, do not wiggle or twirl your wand left, direct it towards the right. You have to picture the spell in your head before saying the incantation.”

He guided the boy's hand steadily before performing the spell himself.

“I don’t understand!” The boy whined.

He sighed, “Then we keep trying —”

“It’s too hard. Why are they teaching this crap anyway?”

“Could you stop complaining?” He snapped, closing his eyes before he realized what he’d just done. “I’m sorry about that. I’m… just tired. I can’t help you anymore, though. You should ask someone else,” Remus said brusquely, his eyes unnerving as he stared at the child. As a result, he yelped out a ‘thank you,’ rushing off in the opposite direction.

The muscles in his jaw tensed under the soft glow of the table lamps. There was a pale red tint rimming his eyes and he looked visibly paler than normal. Irritated, he bounced his knee rapidly, up and down, before looking out the large window beside them. The sky was mostly cloudy. Only the peak of the silvery moon appeared. A sliver was missing before it was fully complete.

He closed his eyes, before breathing in. His posture once stiffened, completely relaxed before a flimsy smile reappeared on his face, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

“If you’re tired we can stop.”

“No, s’okay. I’m fine — really.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, adding to her list:

5. Remus was always so hard to read.

[bamf-jaskier]

I’m reading a non-canon short story written by Andrzej Sapkowski about Geralt and Yennefer’s wedding called Something Ends, Something Begins and my heart is literally so full. Even Asaps has to get tired of having so much angst so this short story is a literal fluff-fest and I love it so much. 

So I thought I would share some of my favorite quotes from the story and if you all want to read it, here is the link. 

"One day she'll break her neck," growled Yennefer, watching Ciri galloping in the splashing water, bent, firm in the stirrups. "One day your crazy daughter will break her neck."

Geralt turned his head and without a word looked into the sorceress's violet eyes.

"All right, then," smiled Yennefer, without averting her eyes. "Sorry, our daughter."

She hugged him again, pressing herself against him firmly, bit him in the arm again, kissed him, and bit him once more. Geralt touched her hair with his lips and carefully pulled her gown over her shoulders.

I am literally...I swear, we finally get domestic Yenralt and it isn’t even in the canon universe. I am literally going to fight someone. This is so damn cute and the way Yennefer is like “our daughter” my goddamn heart. 

The list of the guests wasn't that long. The engaged couple compiled it together and charged Dandelion with sending the invitations. Soon it turned out that the troubadour lost the list before he could even read it. Because he was ashamed to confess, he used a cheap trick and invited whomever he could. Of course he knew Geralt and Yennefer well enough that he didn't miss anyone important, but it wouldn't have been him if he didn't enrich the list of the guests by an admirable number of quite random persons.

Why does it just make sense that Dandelion would fuck this up? It’s so in-character, putting him in charge of the guest list was the first mistake. 

No one invited the golden dragon Villentretenmerth, because no one knew how to invite him and where to look for him. To the general astonishment the dragon turned up, of course incognito, in the form of the knight Borch Three Jackdaws. Of course, where Dandelion was present, one could not speak of any incognito, but even so few believed when the poet pointed at the curly-haired knight and claimed it was a dragon.

The image of Dandelion just pointing at this dude and yelling “He’s a dragon!” is fucking hilarious, especially when you consider most people don’t know dragons can shapeshift. 

"Was it you who invited

Triss Merigold?

"No," the witcher shook his head and silently praised the fact that the mutation of his blood system didn't allow him to blush.

"Not me. I think it was Dandelion, even though all of them claim to have learned about the wedding from the magical crystals."

"I don't want Triss to be present on my wedding!"

"But why? She's your friend."

"Don't make a fool out of me, witcher! Everyone knows you slept with her!"

"That's not true."

Yennefer's violet eyes narrowed dangerously.

"It is true."

"Is not!"

"It is!"

"All right," he turned around angrily. "It is true. So?"

The sorceress was quiet for a moment, playing with the obsidian star on the black velvet ribbon around her neck.

"Nothing," she said at last. "I just wanted you to admit it. Never try to lie to me, Geralt. Ever."

I love the little bickering. Also, like, even though Triss and Yennefer are friends try valid of her to not want her at the wedding. She slept with Geralt!! Love how Geralt tries to deny it at first but gives up ten seconds later. Geralt really tried to pull the “just friends” card and Yennefer was having NONE of it. 

The doppler accused Villentretenmerth of racism, chauvinism and lack of knowledge on the discussion's topic. Therefore, the insulted Villentretenmerth changed for a moment into his natural dragon form, destroying several pieces of furniture and causing a general panic. When the situation calmed down, a fierce quarrel began, in which humans and non-humans accused each other of lack of open-mindedness and racial tolerance. 

A quite unexpected twist in the discussion came from the freckled Merle, the whore who didn't look like a whore. Merle announced that the whole debate was stupid and pointless and didn't concern true professionals, who don't dinstinguish between such things, which she was willing to prove on the spot (for an adequate reward, of course), even with the dragon Villentretenmerth in his natural form. 

In the silence that fell abruptly in that instant they heard the female medium proclaim that she's willing to do the same, and for free. Villentretenmerth quickly changed the topic and began discussing safer topics, such as economics, politics, hunting, fishing and gambling.

Everything about this sequence is perfect, absolutely prime. Dragons and Dopplers fighting, Merle saying she would fuck a dragon in dragon form. This has EVERYTHING. 

"I'll get going right after the feast," Ciri repeated. 

"I want... I want to feel the wind in my face on the back of a galloping horse again. I want to see the stars on the horizon again, I want to whistle Dandelion's ballads at night. I'm longing for a fight, the dance with a sword, I'm longing for the risk, for the delight victory brings me. And I'm longing for solitude. Do you understand me?"

"Of course," Geralt smiled sadly. "Of course I understand you, Ciri. You're my daughter, you're a witcher. You'll do what you must. But I must tell you one thing. One thing. You can't run away forever, even though you'll always try."

"I know," she replied and cuddled herself closer to him. "I still have hope that one day... If I wait, if I'm patient, then I, too, perhaps will live such a beautiful day like this... Such a nice day... Even though..."

"What, Ciri?"

"I've never been pretty. And with that scar..."

"Ciri," he cut her off. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world. Right after Yen, of course."

"Oh, Geralt..."

"If you don't believe me, ask Dandelion."

"Oh, Geralt."

Ciri telling Geralt she wants to travel and move on is just heartbreaking but it makes sense. She has more adventures to go on. Geralt’s story is ending. Hers is beginning. Also Ciri feeling insecure about her appearance and Geralt being a good dad and comforting her? Amazing. 

"I have unfinished business there," she hissed. "For Mistle. For my Mistle. Even though I avenged her, but for Mistle one death is not enough."

Bonhart, he thought. She killed him out of hatred. Oh, Ciri, Ciri. You're standing on the edge of an abyss, daughter. Not a thousand deaths would avenge your Mistle. Beware of hatred, Ciri, it consumes like cancer.

"Watch out for yourself," he whispered."I'd rather watch out for others," she smiled ominously. "It pays off more, it works better in the long run."

I will never see her again, he thought. If she leaves, I will never see her again.

"You will," she answered unexpectedly and smiled with a smile of a sorceress, not of a witcher. "You will, Geralt."

When Geralt asks what Ciri plans to do on her travels she literally says: I am going to avenge my dead girlfriend and murder some people. Which is not a healthy coping mechanism but damn if the idea of a gay revenge story doesn’t sound good to read. 

The priestesses Iola and Eurneid also sobbed, when Yennefer refused to put on the white wedding dress they had made for her. Not even Nenneke's mediation helped. Yennefer cursed, threw around hexes and dishes, while repeating that she looks like a fucking virgin in white. 

The enraged Nenneke began yelling, too, and told the sorceress that she behaved worse than three fucking virgins at once. Yennefer responded by conjuring a ball of lightning and demolishing the roof of the corner tower, which had its good side, too. The crash was so terrible that Caldemeyn's daughter got shock from it and her diarrhea stopped.

Once again, this scene has EVERYTHING. Yennefer getting so pissed it demolishes a tower. The shaking being so bad it stops diarrhea. Also, why does Asaps use diarrhea so often in his books? You know what, I don’t want to know. 

Triss Merigold and the witcher Eskel from Kaer Morhen, were seen again, sneaking, arms linked, into the garden summerhouse.

Is that...IMPLIED TRISSKEL?? OKAY THEN. All the Trisskel friends out there: They hooked up at Geralt and Yennefer’s wedding I don’t make the rules. 

"Yen..."

She looked breathtaking. Black wavy locks, curled up with a golden tiara, fell in a shining cascade over her shoulders and the high collar of a long white brocade dress with black-striped sleeves, pulled together on a bodice with countless drapes of lilac ribbons.

"Flowers, don't forget the flowers," warned Triss Merigold, all in dark blue, and handed a bouquet of white roses to the bride. "Oh, Yen, I'm so happy..."

"Triss, darling," sobbed Yennefer all of a sudden, upon which both sorceresses embraced and kissed the air around their ears and diamond earrings.

"Enough of those endearments," ordered Nenneke, smoothing the folds on her snow-white priestess dress. "We're going to the chapel. Iola, Eurneid, hold her dress, or she'll kill herself on the stairs.

Triss and Yennefer’s friendship is so sweet sometimes. Like, they would literally murder each other but they would also murder FOR each other too. 

Yennefer approached Geralt and with a hand in a white lace glove she straightened the collar of his black cloak, embroidered with silver. Geralt offered her an arm.

"Geralt," she whispered into his ear. "I still can't believe it."

"Yen," he answered her in a whisper. "I love you."

"I know."

I don’t know is Asaps is purposefully referencing Star Wars here but either way this had me tearing up. Geralt and Yennefer deserve a happy ending and even if it’s not officially canon the author wrote it so this is canon in my head. 

The wedding was splendid. Ladies and maidens cried collectively. Herwig was the master of ceremony, a former king, but still a king. Vesemir from Kaer Morhen and Nenneke stood in as parents of the betrothed couple, Triss Merigold and Eskel as witnesses. 

Okay but why is Asaps sneaking in the Trisskel? I want more of it and this pairing definitely intrigues me. Also Vesemir and Nenneke as their parents? That’s so damn sweet. I swear to fuck this entire short story is too damn cute and I want more of it. 

I cannot stress how much I love the energy Merle brings to the table. Saying she would straight up fuck a dragon. The power of it all. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

An ultimate sacrifice; Pharaoh Atem x reader

*Author’s note*

Now this could end really good or really bad. Back in my early teenage days, in my middle school years when I FIRST began my journey into writing fanfiction, the fandom I ALWAYS wrote for was from my childhood anime YUGIOH DUEL MONSTERS! Now I haven’t written any anime fics in practically 10 years so this might be rusty. Also idk if I’ll follow through with this story cause I can see this oneshot becoming a series idk we’ll have to see. But to those YUGIOH! fans out there on tumblr, I hope you enjoy this.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@soy-guey​

_______________________________________________________

There was hardly any hope left.  All of Egypt was covered in complete darkness, no mortal weapon has worked, more than half of our armies have perished to the realm of shadows, even our beloved Egyptian Gods have fallen.  Zorc the Dark One has proven to be the most difficult adversary that our kingdom has ever faced.

Our Pharaoh was barely clinging onto life as the Egyptian Gods who were now shadows of their former selves were literally being broken down by Zorc’s wrath.

“Mana, you and the High Sorceress get the Pharaoh back to the palace.” Our priest Seto told us.

“But what about you?” asked Mana, my dearest friend and my love’s top student.

“The pharaoh is too weak to continue this fight. He needs to get somewhere safe. Leave Zorc to me.”

“Seto are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I asked him.

“We have tried everything in our power, even the Egyptian Gods themselves have been defeated. But there might be a creature with a light strong enough to banish this darkness once and for all, and I alone have the power to summon it.” He and I looked at each other and I nodded to him. I knew he needed to be the one to do this, from the grief I felt in him of losing the love he had found I knew he needed to redeem himself in my eyes.

“Make sure that demon doesn’t set one foot towards the palace gates.” I ordered as Mana and I worked together to get our King back to the palace to restore whatever strength he had left.

Mana and I reached the palace and we set the Pharaoh down on his bed.  He looked terribly weak and drained, almost as if he were in a deep sleep, his chest barely able to rise and fall normally.

“Mana, heal him of his strength.” She nodded and placed her hand over the pharaoh’s chest, her hand glowed brightly as she chanted out.

“As we approach our final hour, please restore the pharaoh’s power.” She kept repeating it over and over and over again. After the 7th time she said it, his violet eyes soon opened up.  “You’re awake!”

“Where is Zorc?” he asked us.  It was then we heard a powerful roar pierce through the sky, but it didn’t sound like Slifer the Sky Dragon’s roar, neither did it sound like Zorc’s.  Our pharaoh got up but I ordered him.

“Atem, you need to rest!” we all stood along the balcony and saw a beautiful white dragon facing down the Dark One single handedly.  Attacking with a powerful white lightning blast.

“No way! I’ve heard about this dragon from the villagers! They were saying a dragon with blue eyes powerful enough to destroy cities had come to our kingdom. But I thought it was only rumors.” Mana explained.

“Well it would seem you were mistaken Mana. But who knows how long this dragon will face up against Zorc. This is a demon that was able to destroy the Egyptian Gods with a wave of darkness.” I said. We watched the battle for a few minutes till I suggested to Mana, “Mana, go help Seto.”

“What? I can’t just leave you both here alone!” she exclaimed.

“Seto may be holding out on his own for now but he’ll need help. And you alone have the power to do just that.”

“But—”

“That’s an order! Not only as your Master but as your Queen! Now Go!” I ordered her.  She looked at me fearfully but her eyes narrowed as she nodded proudly.

“Yes Master Nefertiri. I’ll do my best to keep Zorc away from the palace.” I nodded and placed my hands on her shoulders.

“I know you will. And…….” I trailed off sadly. “And I know he would be proud of you too.” She nodded before we embraced each other and she took off running with her wand in hand.  I turned back to the battle to now see that Seto’s white dragon was starting to lose.

“Tiri.” I heard my pharaoh say to me as he took my hand.  I faced him and saw that his face had a grim, surrendered expression on his face. “It’s time.” He said gravely.

My eyes widened.  No. He—he wouldn’t dare suggest that. How dare he even think about that!

“No!” I growled lowly.

“Seto and Mana won’t be able to stop Zorc, but you can.” I turned away from him. “Look at me!” he spoke in hushed urgency. “You have the power to seal all of this away…..”

“Hold your tongue!” I hissed.

“You must do it, Tiri please!” I kept looking between him and the battle to see Zorc had defeated Seto’s white dragon and Mana’s Ka was barely hanging on.  I looked down at my pharaoh, my lip quivering as he placed my hand to his cheek and he told me, “There’s no other option left.”

Tears filled my eyes and my heart sunk.  I had already lost so many people to this war, I—I cannot bear to lose him too.

“I can’t.” I choked out.

“Yes you can.” He assured me. “You can. If Zorc succeeds in destroying Egypt, then the world will be next. It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have to be you but it is.” I shook my head as a couple of tears seeped down my cheeks.

I slowly backed away from him, but he kept his hands tightly gripped around my hand.  I knew he could feel me trembling which is why he ended up squeezing my hand even tighter trying to comfort me.

“It’s alright. You could never hurt me.” He slowly released my hand and gave me a soft, solemn smile. “You are my older sister.”

My dear sweet baby brother.  All these years of practicing magic together, helping rule Egypt just as our father would have wanted, staying together, never apart. That was the vow we both took together. And now you are willing to seal this evil away along with yourself in order to keep the world safe.  

But he also knew that this spell would cause him to erase his memories so even if he is ever brought back into this world, he will not remember anything, not even his own name.

For his name is the key to seal all of this away.

My hand shakingly raised up and my sapphire magical aura came out of my hand before shooting straight at his Millennium Puzzle.  The blue light from my magic and the golden light from my brother’s Millennium puzzle combined into one, molding together in a battle between Light and Dark.

In order for this to work, I needed to overpower the item’s magic with my own, then merge that power within my brother’s very soul before finally sealing him away for all eternity.

I could hear the defeated cries of Seto’s dragon and Mana trying so hard to keep Zorc away for just a bit longer.  I raised my other hand to now combine my brother’s mind and spirit to the Puzzle itself and I was running out of time. All the while tears kept pouring down my face as I watched my brother’s body slowly disintegrate until it only his spirit remained.

Once it was just his spirit, I turned to see Zorc just within a few feet of the palace.  I raised my left hand and soon morphing into it was the very item I would use to seal Zorc away, the item that once belonged to my beloved Mahad.

The Millennium Ring.

The spikes pointed forward and it’s own magic combined with my own shot right at Zorc who roared in agony but still tried to walk towards my brother and I.  Atem kept reassuring me that it was all going to be alright, but no matter what he said, no matter how many times he assured me and gave me that soft smile of his, my heart continued to break.

Zorc was now standing over us, his clawed hand raised ready to kill us both but my brother’s spirit soon proclaimed out his name.

‘I love you sister.’ His spirit told me one last time.  He then turned to Zorc and proclaimed the key to ending all of this. ‘ATEM!!!’ and with that a great big light exploded from the palace and all went white.

I was surrounded by warmth and light, a light that I felt like I hadn’t felt in an eternity.  When I finally opened my eyes, I had seen that the Sun had finally been freed from the darkness.  I slowly sat up and saw that half the palace was destroyed and the kingdom was in ruin, but I could hear my people cheering.

It was finally over.  Zorc had been sealed away and the darkness he had released upon the world was finally gone.  But through all the cheers and joyous exclamations, my heart was still broken. Especially when I saw a piece of my brother’s Millennium Puzzle just an arm’s length away from me.

I reached forward and grabbed it to see it was the center piece with the eye of Horus staring right at me.  From the sun’s light, it gave me a wink but that still didn’t give me any hope.  I clenched the piece in my palm before pressing it over my heart and softly wept.

Using my magic I forged a special box to keep all the pieces of my brother’s Millennium puzzle and I used my magic to help me find all of the pieces the puzzle had.

It took about an hour to find all of them even with magic but after finally getting the last piece, I closed the box and sealed it tight with a spell.  Only those with a pure heart can touch this box, and if that wielder should be worthy of solving this puzzle, they are allowed one wish and shall also receive knowledge and powers of the Millennium Puzzle.

I walked along the ruins of the palace and was even more heartbroken to see my student and best friend Mana’s soulless body lying there on the ground.  I walked over to her and rolled her onto her back, her once lively hazel eyes were now completely soulless.

“My dearest friend. You fought valiantly, more so than any magician I’ve helped train.” I closed her eyes and placed her hands over her stomach with her wand in her hands, I rested my forehead against hers. “May Ra bless you in the next life, and may you reunite with our friends and your Master.” I kissed her forehead and placed my blue cloak over her body, covering her up.

I walked along the city to see the villagers trying to clean up the mess along with the guards that did survive.  I stood beside Seto whose soul had managed to be saved after Zorc’s defeat by using his white dragon monster.  We stood side by side and I told him.

“It’s not going to be easy but this kingdom will rise again. And you will see to it that it does Seto.”

“Huh?”

“There are a few tasks that I must complete.”

“What? But my Queen you…….”

“I relinquished the throne to my brother when he came of age. I am only the High Sorceress to the throne, and nothing else.”

“But after everything we’ve been through. This kingdom will need a leader who will lead them to the light.”

“And who better to do that than you Seto?” he looked down, his blue eyes full of doubt. “Please cousin, it has to be you. If my brother believed in you, then so do I. Trust the light in your soul.”

“The light in my soul?” I knew then he had to be thinking of his beloved Kisara.  “Alright cousin. I shall fulfill this task for you.”

“Thank you. Now I must ask you to hand over your Millennium Rod. This whole war was caused because of those items, and I shall see to it that they are buried somewhere where no man will ever find them. They must never be used again to bring forth the darkness again.” He handed over the Millennium Rod and I continued.  “I will also ask that you erase any trace of my brother’s name from every history book and stone we’ve got. For whilst his name was used to seal away the darkness, it can also be used to bring it back. Promise me you will honor my brother’s wish and erase his name from History. But never forget what he did for his kingdom and the entire world.”

“I will.” I kneeled before him before taking my leave, but not before asking Seto to give Mana a Guardian’s burial, for she fought just as hard as the rest of the Guardians that have given their lives to protect this kingdom.

I rode through the desert towards the abandoned city of Kul Elna, the once restless spirits were now quiet, almost as if they had left this world.  I went to the underground where the Millennium Stone tablet stood and offered up half of the items to the stone.  I surrendered the Millennium Eye, Scale, Key and the Ring.

I glared down at the Ring and snarled softly.

“If you dare resurrect yourself again, I will end you.” I then left the city and went on my next task.

My family had always spoken of a family that had always been entrusted with guarding the Pharaoh’s tomb so I paid them a visit to ask them to not only look after my brother’s tomb, but also to keep two more Millennium items safe and sound.  I gave Namu Ishtar the Millennium Rod and Necklace and he gave his vow that not only he but his descendents will protect the Pharaoh’s tomb from all threats and invaders.

Finally I delivered my brother’s Millennium Puzzle to the Valley of the Kings.  The place where every pharaoh in history had been buried.  For my brother’s tomb I ensured that every trap and riddle was as difficult to solve as possible (my brother and I always did love our games). But it was also to ensure that my brother’s spirit would never be disturbed or taken away from this place, less they be worthy of him.

Once I reached the end of the tomb, I walked across the pathway and set the box down on a stand.  I gingerly stroked the box as a tear slowly slid down my face.

“Little brother…….one day. One day soon. We will meet again.” I lifted my hand and kissed my fingertips before placing them back on the box.  I then lifted my hood back over my head and left my brother’s tomb.  When I was once again outside, I noticed that it was finally nightfall, Khonsu’s light graced the land of Egypt.

The last trip is probably what broke my heart even more.  For out in the far reaches of the desert was a small hut.  But what was special about this hut was that all of my favorite flowers had grown all around the property.  For being out in the middle of the desert, you would think a sudden oasis would be an illusion, well it’s not. Not really.

For this special place was the home that Mahad and I had made together.  Our love was technically forbidden but for our love, we’d be willing to accept all the risks.  My brother and Mana were the only ones really aware of our relationship together, so if there ever came a day when Mahad was forced to resign as Guardian, he and I would come here to be together.

I summoned a scroll of paper into my hand and slowly unfolded it and saw the design of what we had planned out.  A hut, a beautiful garden surrounding the place, a crystal clear pond along with a well, and a large training ground for us to continue our magic lessons together, and—one day maybe even train our children on.

But now those dreams are shattered.  Mahad had willingly sacrificed himself to become both my brother’s as well as my eternal servant as a creature known as the Dark Magician.

The inscription below in Mahad’s signature read as followed.

FOR MY BELOVED QUEEN, OUR MAGICAL OASIS.

-Mahad

Tears once again pooled into my eyes as I walked towards the hut and walked inside of it.  My body trembled as I finally collapsed to my knees, the paper scroll falling from my hands as I whimpered and wept softly.

First my father, then my friends, my brother, and then Mahad.  Everyone I’ve ever loved has been taken away from me! Why must I be the one to suffer through such pain and suffering?!

I finally couldn’t take it anymore.  I felt my power surging through me like a raging fire until finally I couldn’t hold it in any longer.  I exploded! My sapphire aura shot out in all directions as I let out an agonizing, heart-breaking scream.  Our hut and the property around it being destroyed and forged into something new.

A tomb.  My tomb.

Stone and brick built all around me, the once green oasis that Mahad and I had grown together with our magic decimated and reverted back to the hot, hard sand.  Once the tomb was built I sent my energy out towards all of Egypt now, to erase everyone from my mind.

I didn’t just want to be forgotten, I wanted to be erased.  For how can one live with their lives knowing that their legacy was sealing their own flesh and blood away in order to save the world? I for sure could never live with myself hearing the tale over and over again.  I re-wrote it so that it was my brother and my brother alone had found the spell and casted it to save Mankind from the Shadow Games.

Once that was done, I turned the magic onto myself for one final spell.  Well I should say curse.  To pay for what I’ve done to my family and in a way to spare myself the heartache of losing my Beloved Magician.  I collapsed to the ground, my eyes closed in sleep.

An ageless sleep.  For I was to be put under this curse until the day my brother would be released from his prison.  Our souls bound as one, sealed and trapped away from the world.  And for 5000 years we were, until we would soon be reunited again.

[deepdonutkid]

Once upon a time in paradise

Author’s note:

It’s the second part from Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you why I need it. I hope you’ve read the first part, if not here is it. And enjoy reading!

The reader is still female and this part is five years after the first.

The name of the reader is y/n and the name of her partner is X

I do love writing modern!au… So if you have a request or an idea about a modern!au , send it to me!

Also, general requests are still open! You still can request a one short or a fan work… or even tell me which card you would like to see next!

THIS IS SO CHEESY AND I’M NOT EVEN SORRY!

Warnings: smoking, PTSD mentioned, smut, nfsw, drinking, alcohol, stealing, cheating mentioned, vaginal sex, oral sex

After that fateful evening, when the two of you met, you quickly became close friends. You hung out at the Garrison, when John had to work. Or watched movies together or listen to music. When John had some free time, you went with him to the record store. Sometimes you stole some Vinyl. With John, you just had so much fun. He could always make you laugh and cheer you up, when you’re down. Suddenly he didn’t was a friend anymore, but your best friend.

However, things weren’t always that easy. Time came by and John had to go overseas. As you had promised him, you called him as much as you could and you wrote letters and sent him little packages with snacks and cigarettes. John was always happy to hear your voice and when he read those letters, he imagined how you would say these things. And even when his brothers made fun of him and his little girlfriend, he always declared, that you were just friends and nothing more. Because nothing would ever happen between the two of you as long you still had someone else. No matter how much he loved you, he would not make a move on you, until you wanted to.

You were the light of his life and he would cherish you as much as he could, because you did not only help him during his time spent in service, but also afterwards when he came home broken and lost. You helped him with his nightmares, whenever he called. You walked with him to the meetings of group counseling and also to his therapist. Outside you always waited patiently for him to come back, so you could do something different. Even when he called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone, because he did the same for you. After a fight with another gang, you would clean his wounds and he would call you his favorite nurse. Sometimes his hug was the only thing, that made you feel safe. His voice was so calming, when you felt like your world was shattering to pieces. You shared a special bond with him and you never questioned that. He was always there for you as you were for him.

But then again, you still were in another relationship and you should have questioned that relationship sooner. Your partner was nice in the beginning, so promising, it almost felt like love, but the only thing your partner and you had in common, was the band. Your partner bribed you into moving to Birmingham, so you could join his/her band. You believed in the band so much, you didn’t need to be asked twice. Your partner was the first person to see your potential and that’s why you rushed into this relationship without second thoughts. You were so full of dreams, that you did everything you could to make it work. Not just with your music career but also with your relationship. With the time you came to the resolution, that somethings should come to an end. You started to play just for yourself and maybe John. When you left the band, all things went downhill. Now you and your partner fought all the time, but you still believed that the relationship should not end like this, because you already put so much time and energy into it.

When you found out, he/she cheated on you multiple times through years, you felt so naïve. Without a word you left your partner, but then you realized that it didn’t even hurt. You weren’t nearly as heartbroken as you should have been and it was strange. Of course, you were angry, because the relationship seemed like a waste of time now, but it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.  Then you finally started to question, if you had ever really loved your former partner. You didn’t, that why your heart wasn’t broken, it was never his/hers at all. It belonged to someone else and you knew exactly who that was.

Even before your break-up, you noticed that your feelings for John were much more intense than you thought. And you still remembered that moment, when you realized it. It was a quite night at the garrison. John wasn’t working there anymore, but he took two bottles from behind the counter deliberately. It felt like the usual get together, but it wasn’t. The Shelby had something to say and when you learned, that he would move to London to manage the family business, your heart itched like never before. To not see him almost every day sounded like a nightmare. Of course, you didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help it. All the sudden you felt like you had lost something, you never really had. John had to calm you down, but he looked just as sad as you did. If you hadn’t been in a relationship at this point, you would have purposed the idea of moving with him to London.

But now you were free and he would move in three days. You had to tell him. So, you typed a small message to him and you agreed to meet him one last time at the garrison, where the two of you had met so many years ago. You chose to wear that shirt he gave you on one of your first concerts together.

You were so nervous that you couldn’t sit still anymore. That’s why you went straight to the pub and were the first to arrive. It felt impossible to wait for him. Your heart was throbbing and your palms were sweaty. Every minute felt like an hour. The sweet relief came, when he arrived. Again, your heart jumped and your eyes were filled with joy.

“John, I’m so glad, you could make it. Moving out is always so stressful.”, you beamed

He nodded and pulled you in for a hug. “I would regret it, if I didn’t come to see you tonight.”, he whispered in your ear. His voice left you breathless and suddenly your face felt so hot.

Then both of you sat down at your favorite table, which was next to the music system and the dart board. It was quite for a while until John decided to get some drinks. Which meant usually meant beer, but this time he came back with a very expensive bottle of whiskey. You starred at the label. “Isn’t this worth half a fortune?” you asked.

With a grin on his face, he said: “Yes, but I paid for the bottle and it’s a special occasion, isn’t it?”

“special occasion sounds like a goodbye”, you complained: “Like we never going to see each other again.” You were so scared to lose him, everyone could here it in your voice.

“No”, he promised: “This isn’t a goodbye, I’m just going to live an hour away from here. You make it sound like it’s the end of the world. We’re still going to meet and drink and do all the things, we always did.”

His hand patted the back of yours and when you looked up, he greeted you with his heart-warming smile. You couldn’t resist but to smile back and the sadness slowly vanished.

John poured the drinks and said the toast. “Let our friendship never end.” You laughed and raised your glass, but inside you felt hurt. Did you wait too long? Maybe John didn’t had feelings for you anymore… or maybe he never had them. Finally, you knew, you wanted more than just to be friends with him, but now he upset you.

The whiskey didn’t make it better. It left your throat burning as if it would set everything on fire you probably would have said. But you still had to tell him. At least, you should inform him, that you ended your relationship. As your friend he should know. You wanted to reveal your feelings as well, but now you were so insecure about it. What, if he said he only liked you as a friend now? It would break your heart for real this time.

“John?”, you asked quietly

He raised his eyebrows and summed a “hm?”

“I broke off with X”, you finally manage to say: “He/ She cheated on me… Not only once, but countless times and I… I feel so stupid now…”

John looked shocked, as if he didn’t know what to think or say. He needed sometime to prepare how he could comfort you. “You’re not stupid, Y/n. X is just a jerk.”

“But how could I be so blind? X didn’t even love me. He/ She just used me for their own advantage.”, you explained before taking another sip from the whiskey.

He bid his lip and signed. “You deserve better. Someone, who cares for you and-”

“Ha”, you scoffed: “Who that might be?”

His heart felt like burning. Again, you pointed out his weakness. He cared so much about you, but he could never tell you. It felt so wrong, if this was the first thing, he said to you, after you told him, you were finally single again. As if he didn’t beg for this day to come. But things were so complicated now. He was going to leave town in three days and right now he just wanted to run away with you. All this responsibility was too much for him. And yet, he couldn’t open his mouth. At least not to talk, but he could drink, so he just did that.

“We should let this ruin our last night at the garrison.”, you declare: “Just fun and games tonight, okay?”

You smiled at him, but he responded with a speechless nod.

The rest of the night you did, what you always did. You played cards and dart and you emptied the bottle together and you sang along with your favorite songs, while John sat back and listened.

After all, it was great. Even if it might be the last time, you could be together like this. Here in the Garrison at your favorite table, with some booze and friends. Maybe next time would already be different. Maybe you would meet him in London and see his new place. Maybe the next time would be months from now. Who would know that? You just wanted one last night together, so you wouldn’t miss so much him, when he left.

When you stumbled backwards out of the door of your all-time favorite pub, you yelled goodbye to everyone. Without John, you wouldn’t come back here again. It would hurt to much, if his seat was empty.

You danced on the sidewalk, swirled around, until John caught you and gave you a squeeze. “Be careful, Y/n, or you’re going to kiss the pavement.”

All the sudden he was so close and you were almost drunk enough to kiss him. The idea was in your head, has been for a long time, but now you just couldn’t get the courage to do it. “You’re way drunker than I are…. Or is it than me am?”, you blabbered. The whiskey talked for you now.

Now, John had to laugh too! “Okay, you definitely had enough!”

With pure glee and excitement, you dragged him down the street and suggested: “We should go to your place. The night is still young.”

“The sun is almost up”, he noted: “The night is almost over.”

Your face scrunched, and with a pouting lip you decided to talk back: “Nooo, don’t say that, it’s our last night and it should be spectacular!”  

He squeezed your cheeks with one hand and said with great concern: “This is not going to be out last night. Did you hear me?”

You nodded as much as you could under his tight grip.

“I wouldn’t want that. I need you in my life, Y/n. Understand that?”

Again, you nodded… but then again…. You couldn’t say anything, even if you wanted to.

Then he let go of you and took your hand, as he continued walking. Silently he agreed to take you to his place. You knew that, because the way to your apartment was in the complete opposite direction.

It took you a while until you arrived at his place, but the night was quite and it felt like it was made just for the two of you.

You leaned against the wall, while he fumbled for his keys. With a sleepy voice you whispered: “Let’s have a sleep over. Our last time is so long ago.”

John froze mid movement. Slowly he turned to you. How should he keep his hands of you, when you were finally single and so clingy? Every time, you laid in his arms, he had so much trouble to control himself. To not just steal an innocent kiss. Now it just felt impossible. “No”, he answered: “I’m gonna get you a cap, as soon as we’re up.”

“Why?” was all you could say. It never has been a problem for John or you, but why now?

“I just can’t be with you.” His face was serious. Both of you were so quite right now.

On the outside you looked calm, as you kept asking further. “Why? What’s wrong, John? Please tell me, I’m a little confused right now.” On the inside you felt like dying. These were the worst words he had ever said to you. Your heart pounded so fast and it hurt so much you had to lay your hand on your chest.

He still had the keys in his hand, when he explained: “I’m sorry, Y/N… I just can’t pretend, that I’m not in love with you. Especially not now. And I should have said that sooner, but I thought it would be better to keep it to myself.”

You didn’t know what to think. A thousand thought came rushing through your brain.

“I’m probably gonna regret this later, but I need to get this of my mind. I love you. I’ve always had. You’re the most amazing person, I’ve ever met and I can’t deny my feelings any longer. And I would bit my ass, if I would have kept my mouth shut again.”, he added.

His gaze was so intense, it was almost scary. You couldn’t move, not even an inch.  

All you could do, was think. It took a while until the full meaning of his words unfolded in your mind. He loved you, even if he said it in the most horrible way. If he wouldn’t have been so repelling while declaring his love, you might have understood him sooner.

John didn’t dare to touch you, but he was keen to know, what you would say or do. Right now, you were stiff as a statue and he was sure, he ruined everything that might have been between you. Panic was building up inside him. He felt the blood rushing through his brain. Actually, John already started to regret his confession.

It only got worse. “Let’s get upstairs”, you demanded with a straight face.

He looked to you and then to the lock of the door over and over again. Somehow, he thought he had no other voice, but it at least you didn’t yell at him right here on the street for everybody to hear. You’ve always been a decent person and he thought the least he could do was to discuss this further inside.

So, you walked behind him though the dark corridor. You were right behind him, when you took the stairs leading to his apartment.

Finally, you stood in front of his door. He glared over his shoulder, where you waited for him to unlock the door. Something about him seemed so unsecure. It didn’t look like him at all. Then he dropped the key twice. You didn’t know why he was so tense. Of course, you were excited too, but you managed to appear as calm as possible, even though you wanted to rip off his cloths right on the street.

When he got the key the second time, he even hit his head on the door knob and mumbled several swear words. You almost laughed, because he has been ridiculous about hit. He cursed the knob so much, it seemed like mutual hate.

But after he was done with that, he could push the key into the lock and turn it around. The door opened with a pop.

He stepped in and hold the door for you to enter as well. “There we are.”, he whispered to himself, already preparing for you to shout at him, how he could ruin your friendship.

But that was not going to happen at all. John’s eyes widened as you kissed him. He wasn’t ready for your lips to meet his so soon, so he had to take a step back. In utter confusion he starred at you. “What?”, he croaked

It was everything he had ever wanted and now he couldn’t understand it. The whole room started turning. He felt like he missed something important, as if you reciprocate his feelings and he had just forgot about it.

You were too eager to stop now. Nothing on earth could stop you from rushing right to him. Again, you kissed him with burning passion and this time he couldn’t get enough from you. He pulled you closer and pressed his body against yours.

John wasn’t sure, if this was really happening, but he wanted to enjoy it as long it lasted. After that kiss a next one followed and then a next one. Your fingers slid under the fabric of his shirts as you tried to pull it up.

But that was too much for him right now. He couldn’t stand the tension and he was desperate in need to catch some air. Heavily breathing he pushed you away. “What’s is happening now?”, he asked

“I’m trying to undress you.”, you explained with a wide grin on you lips: “That is what people do, when they want to fuck each other.”

It seemed like he didn’t hear the joke at all. The Shelby had lost his mind, but after all a lot of his dreams started like this. “Is this real?”

“Yes”, you assured him: “Of course, I want you. Don’t you want the same?”

He stumbled back and braced himself against the wall. His other hand was running through his hair over and over again. “Yes, obviously, I want this. I dreamed about this a thousand times.”, he moaned: “But I can’t follow… what happened between now and outside of the house? When did you changed your mind?”

Then you laughed out loud. “Nothing happened. It’s a miracle that I didn’t hop right on you back on the street.”, you explained: “Why is it so confusing for you, that I want to fuck you?”

Now he was not only confused, but also a little angry. “You just told me today, that you ended a six years long relationship and now you just want to get things going with me? I’m sorry… Apparently, I got lost on the way.”

“Because I realized some time ago, that I didn’t love X, I love you.”, you yelled. When he could raise his voice, you could too. This was a game for two.

Now he was the one to be paralyzed. He just stood there and stared out of the window

“C’mon.” You had to beg him “John, say something.”

“I just need a moment.”, he breathed: “This is too much for me.”

Now you were really concerned. He didn’t look well. “Are you… Are you having a panic attack?”

Then he chuckled slightly. “I don’t know. I have never felt this way.”

You stepped to his side and gently patted his back. “Oh, baby, it will be alright. I’ll be there for you”

“Maybe you are…”, he whispered: “But I’m gone in three days. Why is everything so complicated?”

Finally, he managed to look you in the eyes. “I’m coming with you”, you promised him and you meant every word.

“Birmingham is just not the same without John Shelby, right?”, you joked: “But we have to find a new great bar in London.”

Now he was happy and confused at the same time. He mumbled: “You really would do that? I mean, your job is here and your things”

“Have I ever broken a promise?”, you asked and smiled: “Besides that, nothing is keeping me here anymore. My home is with you. Even, if you hadn’t told me how you feel, I would have missed you terribly and would have come to London, just to see your face. I just can’t be without you.” And that was the truth.

John had his answers now and he pulled himself back up. “Good, you’re going to love our new apartment. It has a great view and a balcony, so we can sit outside, if we want to smoke.” His thumb caressed your cheek.

“Our apartment sounds great.” You nodded and laughed

He laughed with you, but he had to steal a kiss from you. Now he could enjoy them just like he wanted to.

And how much he loved to kiss you. He had so much fun sucking on your bottom lip and then playfully biting it. You moaned into the kiss, when his tongue entered your mouth.

While his hands were discovering your body, you shivered under his touch. After all this time of longing to be together it felt like magic, feeling his skin on your skin. But you needed more, so much more. Again, you started pulling up his shirt, this time it was successful. Your eyes hovered over his bare chest. It was not new to you, but now you were able to see him in a completely different light. He was shaped like a Greek god and you wanted nothing more but to worship at his shrine. So, you searched the button of his jeans, to unravel him truly.

Unlike you had planned it out, John wasn’t going to let you proceed. “No, babe.”, he whispered: “I’m gonna take you first.” You couldn’t disagree with this smile or those tempting lips, which spoke so sinful it sent you to heaven.

One more kiss was all you needed, so you part long enough for him to get you out of your clothes. First your shirt, then your skirt and with a winner’s smile he opened your bra.

You wanted to hide your breasts behind your arms, but he dragged them away. “It’s so cold in here”, you complained.

He giggled and slowly went on his knees, kissing every inch as he moved further. “I’ll heat you up” His hands kneaded your tits, which coax the loveliest sounds out of you. Before he arrived his destination, he gave each nipple a cheeky lick with the tip of his tongue.

Now on his knees he tilted his head and your eyes met his again. It seemed so offbeat to see him like this. John never looked softer and more fragile than now. He had something in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe what was going to happen, but neither could you. His face rubbed against your belly. You could feel how the stubbles on his chin tickled you.

“Your skin is so soft”, he moaned: “Even softer than I had imagined.”

His sweet words made you smile, but this smile turned into a loud moan filled with ecstasy, when his fingers went under the fabric of your panties and dragged them down painfully slow.

The trace of his fingertips left you burning and longing for more than this. How long has it been since your last good fuck? Gosh, you didn’t even remember, but maybe that’s because John started kissing your center and every thought vanished right away.

Actually, everything else that wasn’t him disappeared. Step by step the two of you entered a bubble without even noticing. A small word which revolved just around your two bodies.

The feeling how his tongue slid around your fold was burning into your memory. You felt hot and cold at the same time and it was too good to be true, when he started sucking at your clit.

You opened your legs a little more, so he would have enough space to really explore your body… And hell, it did work. Before he even touched you, you were already soaking wet, but now you entered paradise. He had the keys to heaven and he let you in. Your fingers kept running through his hair, as you finally reached climax.

This was by far the best orgasm you’ve ever had and you weren’t surprised about this. Somehow you knew straight from the start that John was capable of that. He already brough you plenty of joy with his mouth just by talking, but he seemed to have a talent for eating you out as well.

A frisson of pleasure poured down your back and you were still week in your knees.  

His cheeks were still wet from your juice, but that didn’t stop him from coming back up and steal a kiss from you. When you tasted him, you realized, what you were doing right now. You had sex with your best friend and it was the god damn best thing you’ve ever done in your life. If you had known this sooner, you wouldn’t have waited so long to tell him. He tastes like a combination of cigarettes and whiskey and your pussy and it was so fucking delicious. You could kiss him for hours and be completely pleasant with this, but then he pulled you closer and his erection pressed against you.

Even through the fabric of the jeans, you could sense how hard he was and how bad he wanted you to touch him. So, you laid your fingers on the button and managed to open it.

His cock jiggled with joy. “You’re so hard already.”, you noted slightly amused.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for this to happen for five years, babe.”

And five years were a pretty long time. Suddenly you had a stupid question in mind, but you needed to reassure yourself. “You still want this?”

John wiped the wetness of his cheek and presented his wet fingers to you. “A little late for that question, don’t you think?”

You shook your head. You should have known and there was no going back now. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. This is just so surreal.”

“I know”, he laughed: “But there is no way I’m losing you again. You’re mine now.”

All the sudden he lifted you up and carried you to his bed, which seemed to be the last furniture that hasn’t been dissembled. The room was so empty, it almost scared you, but right there in his arms, you felt so safe and sound.

After he had laid you down on the mattress, he stumbled out of his pants. The grin on his face seemed to become permanent. You crawled over the sheets to him. He was so much bigger than you would have expected.

Very gently you kissed the tip of his cock. On your lips you could feel how he throbbed under your touch. Now it was his turn to moan. John titled his head back as you keep licking and finally sucking his dick.

You tried to get it as deep as possible in your mouth. Tears filled your eyes, but you were so keen to return the favor. You wanted to make him as happy as he made you.

Suddenly he grabbed your hair and pulled you away. “You’re going to make me cum.”

“That was my plan.”, you joked and licked him once more.

He whimpered and pulled at your hair. “Not until I’m buried inside you, love.”

Then John pushed you down and took his position between your legs.

Your heart started beating twice as fast. Nervous wasn’t even the right word for how you felt. Almost like exploding.

“Put it in”, you begged while he rubbed his dick on your fold. “Make me yours only.”

“How could I say no to that pretty face of yours?”, he groaned before sliding into you.

His and your moan filled the empty room. Now that you could feel him, you realized once more, how big John was. “Oh my god”, you whined as he started moving.

While he became faster and his thrusts became harder, he buried his face next to your neck.

His breath brushed against your skin. You could hear him whisper: “You smell so good”

The way he said it gave you goosebumps. There was something so raw and honest in his voice, it went under your skin.

Your hands hovered over his body and stopped at his beautiful ass. You had to grab it and pull him even closer. Right there he hit your sweet spot over and over again.

You rolled your eyes back.  The pleasure he gave you with every thrust was so good, it was almost sinful. And you would come back gladly every time, to sin some more.

John caught you by surprise, when he bit your collarbone and sucked on it.

It hurt a little, but you knew a dark red mark should be your reward. Now you became truly his and nobody could part you again.

By this time, you were almost screaming his name as he kept moving. The rolling drums of pleasure came over you.

After you came for a second time, John didn’t have to restrain himself and only minutes after your climax he reached his high too. You sensed how his cock pulsed while he cum. Now you were filled with his semen and an unsurpassable joy.

“I love you”, you had chuckled and kissed his cheek, before he laid down next to you.

He had a sweet smile on his lips and revealed: “I love you too and I can’t wait to spend every day with you.”

Tagging:  @bonniesgoldengirl​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @caelys​ @ysmmsy

[avenger-hawk]

Why do you like Kakasasu?

I waited to reply to this because I wanted to be sure it wasn’t a troll and it wasn’t a drama starting attempt (like this or this, gems found in the sasuke/KS tag) since it’s a subject I am very interested in.

I replied to Kakashi/Sasuke related asks, shippy or not shippy, here, here and here. More about them here, here and here. Put yourself comfortable cause this is gonna be long. Not putting it under a readmore cause I remember ppl complaining they coulnd’t open it on mobile phones (?). Also, moralists who are lurking: don’t interact, get out of my blog. Youll be blocked on sight.

When I started reading N*ruto I was into Bleach a lot, and the fact that the characters were a little older and looked older made me not get into Nar that much at first, because they looked like kiddies lol. I didn’t care about Nar as a character and his initial rivalry with Sas was cute but not enough to get me interested. Only when Kakashi got closer to Sasuke I started being veery interested in the story and in the characters. What I found intriguing was that Kakashi was older and an authority figure, but also someone to look up and who helped his students, BUT at the same time he wasn’t exactly a father-like figure or a big brother-like figure, because he had his dark side, that back then wasn’t well flashed out but that nevertheless showed a closed-off person who kept everything inside, not letting others get too close to him.

(then I started liking N*rusasu mostly because there were so many cool doujinshi especially Emi10/Rankai and Engawaken, while KS doujinshi were so meh, kinda in old yaoi style like Loveless, with tiny Sas who looked even younger hahaha, not my thing)

As those who know my blog and/or my writing know already, I am not interested in healthy, cute, positive dynamics in fiction. I might enjoy them, I might be happy when there are such moments, but I can’t like a whole relationship/dynamic/story only like this because I like to explore complicated ones in fiction.Because fiction is very useful for this, it makes you explore dark, taboo things, without affecting reality (no matter what idiots say), it’s cathartic, it’s a way to do, see, experience things without doing anything.

Back to topic tho, I found their initial dynamic very intriguing. A broken, traumatized yet extremely driven Sasuke, acting as confident and strong as he can, but showing his trauma in various occasions, otherwise being mostly aloof, lost in his own thoughts, and a differently broken Kakashi, acting chill but at the same time always ready to act when needed, yet always kinda distracted, aloof, lost in his owh thoughts (and later we’ll know he took Obito’s mannerisms because he was a stickler to rules). The way Kakashi takes a special interest for Sasuke, clearly the most driven, the best of the team, with whom he holds back much less (when he trains them, like when in the beginning, during the bell test, he fights with Sas and seeing that he almost took it, he overpowers him) while he is different with the others (Nar will have Jiraiya later). The way he protects Sasuke during the chuunin exams, while he’s in the hospital and Kabuto is trying to kill him.

Mostly, the controversial moments...like I said I live for these kind of things. where he both protects and threatens him...like when he does that seal to Sasuke, for his curse mark, and he tells him that if that curse mark takes over he’ll kill him. Or when he ties Sasuke up so he won’t join Orochimaru.

Before someone says bs like *you’re not Sas fan if you like that scene* (I know there are many like this and I want all of them out of my blog btw) uh, it’s not how it works guys. You can support a character and still be intrigued by scenes where said character is tied up/in a forcibly submitted position and so on. Guess what, some of those scenes are made for fanservice even (and Sas has many of these, so if you don’t see the appeal/refuse to admit that there is appeal, it’s you who have a problem). So even tho I disagree with Kakashi not wanting to listen to Sasuke’s reasons for revenge (and later supporting SHikamaru’s, I replied to this in one of the asks I linked) I do find that scene interesting...I mean Sasuke tied up in a very suggestive way and yet defying him and threatening to kill his loved ones and Kakashi opening up in a very weird way vaguely replying that he lost those ppl already? It shows a lot about them, their personalities, everything.

I am sticking to part 1 because there are more meaningful interactions between them, I wished there were more in part 2 but kishi shifted Kakashi’s ‘interest’ to Nar, making him one of Nar’s followers...even so, the intractions they had were very interesting. Their fight after Sasuke fights Danzo is one of my fave moments in the whole story tbh, much more than the later confrontation with Nar. Kakashi for the first time has an inner only, yet strong, emotional reaction, having to fight and supposedly kill his former student who became a rogue with a death sentence on his head...he realizes this is how Hiruzen felt against Orochimaru. It’s a strong realization from someone like him who was always so closed off and aloof that he totally lacked empathy.

On the other hand Sasuke is in a different mindset. He’s sort of high for having succeeded in eliminating the one who made Itachi suffer so much, he’s thinking about killing the elders and destroy the village, so he’s basically lost in the recent past of Danzo’s death and in the future plans he’s making, he’s not in the present moment almost...but he has to fight anyway, and it’s a cool fight, also because he’s weakened already and Kakashi is strong...and then he gets blind, totally, and it’s an amazingly intriguing moment, the kind of controversial stuff I’m interested in, because that’s when he could be totally overpowered by Kakashi, if the story didn’t have other priorities (putting Nar in the center of attention with their confrontation).

Their later moments, like during the war, are meh cause the interest shifted already completely, but their moments in jail (anime only ofc) and their Shinden interactions (only through messages) are interesting to me. Very much so, because they show power dynamics very well, with Kakashi as THE authority and Sasuke as the one submitted. In jail it’s even more evident with him looking down at the younger tied up and blindfolded...like, wow. It’s like fanfiction material (in fact I wrote one (ff.net/a03) and there was the coolest fanart inspired by it! here..there were more but this came on my dash today so).

You mentioned power dynamics...their dynamics are all power dynamics because Kakashi was never at Sasuke’s same level and he never acted like he was, and when Sasuke was stronger, during the war, they basically didn’t interact, and when the war was over and Sasuke was brainwashed and tamed into submission the power dynamic remained the same.

The difference imo between them and other power dynamics based pairings is that they are closer than what could be defined rare pairings such as Obito (they had a very interesting one tho, if only it was developed), Madara (the story was already developed in a pro Konoha-anti Uchiha way but it would have been so cool to have the 2 Uchiha interact more), or other older and stronger characters, so the dynamic could be written in a cool way in a fanfiction but in canon Kakashi created it already. So, while I can imagine something like Shisui/Sasuke, Obisasu or more, in my head, and I can come up with some AU or canon divergent/canon behind the screen (like when Sas stayed with Obito after the transplant), Kakashi and Sasuke had canon interactions that showed power dynamics already.

(Then there is Itasasu, which is a huge power dynamic based relationship, that also had amazingly strong feelings though, and those who know me know that for me Itachi will always be Sasuke’s most loved person, and that he was the same for Itachi. So ofc imo IS is a much stronger bond compared to KS but still. Also I remember in the beginning how many fics I read where Itachi was abusive to Sas and Kakashi stepped in lol. And it’s not a mystery that even though I think the IS bond is the strongest I find other pairings and character dynamics very interesting, so much that I like to explore them even more than IS, which, imo, is almost a given fact so I don’t always feel the need to explore it)

Another thing I find intriguing is that Kakashi always saw Sas at his ‘worst’...in Konoha’s terms I mean. When he wanted revenge in pt 1, after he killed Danzo and he was weak and so desperate and hysterical that they thought he got crazy, when he was jailed. It’s a big power he has, to be able to see someone like this.

Tbh it’s a pity that there were no post war moments (B*ruto shit doesn’t count) where they interact ‘normally’ cause I would have liked to see them, both as normal interactions where they get closer again, now that Sas is older, where they train and they get physical (and Kakashi has a lot of repressed anger, jealousy and possessiveness to let out on the one who betrayed his sensei and went to another...not my opinion but it could be Kakashi’s pov) because I think power dynamic would come up a lot, even from apparently cute moments.

I’ll end this super long essay hoping that you didn’t fall asleep lol, and adding that Kakasasu was the first Nar pairing I shipped, which it speaks a lot about why I get so irritated when someone mentions it negatively.

[corrupt-fvcker]

Good Grief (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

Good Grief ( Din Djarin x fem!Reader )

Warning: angst!angst!angst!, sweet ‘n fluffy ending

Word Count: 3.3K

Author’s Note: inspired by bastille's song good grief as well as this one sad poem my sister read to me a while ago that i just can't remember the name of. i originally wrote this as a din x ofc but i didn’t like it as much. 

Nothing would ever be the same. His absence like a lost limb; a supposed constant, something you relied on — but now it's missing. He's missing. And it still catches you off guard, making your heart stutter tightly in your chest with the shock of it, sharp like twisting a rusty knife. You are no longer sure of which pain was worse — the piercing shock of what happened or the longing ache of what never will.

You can still hear his voice echoing in the caves of your mind, urging you to take the Child and run. Asking you to leave him behind, granting him his wish of a warrior's death even if that meant leaving you in return.

Perhaps it was selfish, but you had refused to leave him for death. Because Din Djarin was not the Grim Reaper's to take. He was Mando, your Mando. The father of your adopted green child that ate frogs and almost killed Cara with some sort of fucking magic because he thought she was hurting his dad. The Mandalorian that removed his layers of beskar so that you could feel something new, something other than cold cuffs around your wrists and the incessant emptiness that had hollowed out your chest all those years ago. The man that trusted you with his entire life despite your reputation of being dishonest and greedy. Din Djarin, who you loved even though you’re reluctant and too stubborn to ever mutter the three words that always caught in your throat whenever you looked at him.

And you selfishly didn't want to lose him.

You didn't want to feel yourself missing him whenever you heard his favorite song on the radio -- an old tune by some one-hit-wonder that had been popular decades ago. You’d always catch Din tapping his foot to the beat when it played in dingy cantinas despite claiming that he didn't like music because it was just orchestrated excess noise. And maybe that was true with all the other songs in the galaxy, but this one particular song managed to seep through the thick layers of beskar and sneak into Din's ears. But if he left you, you could only grow to hate the song, dreading to hear it because you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from instinctively turning your head to flash a teasing grin where he would've been standing, tapping his foot along. 

But more than you could ever hate a song, you’d hate yourself. For allowing someone to hold such a firm grasp around your heart when you know that they could be ripped away from you at any moment, surely taking your heart along with them. But most of all, you’d hate yourself for not being enough — fast enough to save him, brave enough to give him the final goodbye he wholly deserves.

He had collapsed, lying helplessly on top of a table that only Cara was strong enough to lay him on. You couldn't see the blood but you could smell it, flooding and then suffocating your senses until your head spun and you felt yourself stifling back a sob until a coarse lump lodged in you throat.

"This is the Way," he told you, choking through the phrase as his visor steadily focused on you after you insisted on removing his helmet so that his head wound could be treated. And you could feel a shred of dignity wither and welt as the words left your quivering, chapped lips. You knew just as well as Din what it meant to break such an oath, you knew how deeply Din was devoted to the Creed. Din was a Mandalorian, he was before he met you on Arvala-7 on the vapor farm. When he had met you all that time ago, he had intended to die a Mandalorian and some things just never change.

Your muscles had turned to stone as you stared down at him, your lips parted but no air filling your restricting lungs. You didn't need to remove his helmet to know that he was gazing up at you through the black visor, memorizing every curve, freckle, blush, and blemish of your face because he had the feeling that this was going to be the very last time he would ever have the pleasure of admiring your beauty for a long while.

Tell him, the voice in your mind prodded, tearing through your dazed state.

You blinked, your wide eyes lining with tears that threatened to spill over. A shaky breath hissing through your clenched teeth as you unwillingly cried, salty droplets streaking down your soot and blood dusted cheeks before dropping off the edge of your jaw.

Din's heart tightened. In all the time he's known you, he's never once seen you cry. You shed no tears even when a blaster bolt had hit you directly in your torso, stumbling to the ground and seething with pain. Your eyes were dry from the point the plasma struck you up until Din was spraying a thick layer of bacta over the wound. He had thought it was strange that you had never cried, wondering if you just bottled up your emotions until you are in the privacy of the 'fresher or if you had a weird anti-crying medical condition that you didn’t like to talk about. All Din knew was that he never wanted to see you cry — but now you’re bawling and it was because of him.

Words strangled through thick and heavy sobs, your hands lifting to press against your eyes, rubbing at the tears, and blocking your vision. "What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?"

His chest deflates. 

You hear him call your name, though between the thrumming of your heart and the crackling fire surrounding the two of you, his voice sounds distant. 

The cracked leather of his hand startles you as it brushes against the soft skin of your wrist before seizing your trembling hands. His grip is strong and firm, his thumb stroking the lines of your palm as if he was trying to determine your future so he could promise you that you’d be okay. Even though you knew you wouldn't be.

And as you clasp your other hand over his, holding him in place, the painful lump solidifies in your throat and blocks of any words that your mind is desperately trying to push through your paling lips.

"You need to go," Din told you, giving your hand a squeeze that was supposed to be reassuring but only made your chest rack with another pathetic sob.

Now or never.

"Din," you mutter in a broken voice, savoring his name on your tongue like it was your last meal. His helmet tilts slightly, his grasp on your hand tightening as he awaits you to say your goodbye. Because even though you are dreading the three words that you could only ever think quietly in your own mind, Din was praying for them because he wanted so desperately to know. He would've told you if he surely wasn't going to die, it would only be cruel to tell you now.

You swallow thickly, the lump strangling you. You pause, forcing yourself to kriffing breathe before squeezing your eyes shut tightly, focusing on the feeling of his hand.

You choked. "Thank you."

It's like the entire world— the entire universe stops. Halting as Din gives your hand one last final squeeze and nodding because he too would forever be grateful to have stumbled across someone as beautiful as you on Arvala-7. He'd forever be thankful for you for being so easy to love.

And then you left, stumbling through the kicked open grate without daring to turn to look over her shoulder, leaving the only man you could ever love behind in thick clouds of smoke. 

Your mind is broken, all you knew was that you had to get to Cara and Karga.

You’re sprinting faster than you’ve ever in your life, tears streaming down your face as you race through the tunnels. 

Karga and Cara lower their raised weapons when you round the corner of the tunnel, your usual mischievous and calculating eyes bloodshot and burning.

Your heart is pounding in your ears, deafening loud as your footsteps falter and you nearly fall flat on your face if it wasn't for Cara's strong arms that caught you. You’re still sobbing, uncontrollably and you can't fucking hear or see now because the tears are so damn thick and your heartbeat is so loud.

In the distance, hidden in the thick and constant thrumming of your heart, you can hear Cara calling your name. Her voice was fainter than a whisper, despite Cara nearly yelling in your numb face as she shakes your trembling form. But every word Cara spoke slipped through your ears, your thoughts on Din who was now only a memory that would involuntarily fade in time.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

Din and probably the Child. Your weird little family that you had accidentally found was gone. Like it was never there to begin with. Leaving you with nothing but the sweet memories that would surely turn painful.

You didn't know how long you were in Cara's arms, losing all control of your senses and your words. You don’t remember when but you’re suddenly begging Cara to help you, grabbing at the arms that are pulling you into former-shock trooper. Pleading through your tears, asking over and over again like a chanting of a prayer to help you. Save you from this misery and put you in your place. Show you what you need to do because there's nothing else that you want to do.

You’re about to ask Cara to just put a bolt between your eyes — because nothing is worth it if you had to suffer through such emptiness for the rest of your life — when you are yanked from Cara's embrace, too numb to yelp or fight back as two strong arms heave you into a solid chest.

Tears are still streaming down your face unable to care to stop them, not that you could have if you even wanted to. Your mind too hazy to fully understand the blur of it all. Din's arms wrapped around your waist and the Child cradled by IG-11.

Your world had been torn away from you so quickly that when it all snapped back into place you were still stumbling, the sudden shift of everything knocking you over again.

"Cyar'ika?"

You’re suddenly back on the Razor Crest, you’re still in Din's arms but everything else is different. You’re no longer on Nevarro, on another planet that you don’t remember the name of. The Child wasn't in the arms of droid but rather tucked away in his pod sound asleep. Din isn't wearing any armor, not even his helmet, the two of you basked in the safety of darkness as you laid in your shared cramped cot. You’re not crying and you no longer feel the blinding numbness of grief, but rather an aching pull of guilt.

Din calls out to you again, propping himself up on an elbow with a small grunt so that he can tilt your chin to face him. You can't see him in this degree of darkness, and luckily he can't see the look of pain etched in your features.

"What's wrong?" His voice is familiar and solid, grounding.

You don’t answer, not even willing to give him the simplicity of a dismissive "it's nothing."

Din puffs out a small breath through his nose, fanning faintly over your face. You close your eyes, focusing on the comforting warmth that radiates off his bare body like a furnace. You don’t want him to pry because you knows that no good could come from it. You feel too guilty to face him, but yet you are still too cowardly to admit your feelings. You’re not sure that it's rejection that you fear but rather the spoken acknowledgment of your attachment to him. Because once you speak of your love and the words are out in the open, the universe is free to rip your love away from you.

He leans forward, his nose brushing against yours delicately as he rests his forehead atop of yours. The action was stabilizing, pushing your broken pieces together and sealing them back in place. But you felt intoxicatingly lost in his touch, his skin invitingly warm yet you knew that if you allowed herself to touch him you’d completely lose it.

"Kal Viinir'ika," Din coos, running the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheek as his fingers weave through your hair. Blade Runner — a title given to you by mercenaries and bounty hunters because you are fast on your feet and even faster with your swords, but you had never been too fond of it. But then you met Din and he had somehow managed to turn it into a teasing nickname that you grew to adore when it came from his mouth in his native tongue.

His nose grazes your nose before he presses it into your cheek, kissing you purposefully on the corner of your lips. "Please talk to me."

And his words shatter you, breaking you into a million pieces so that you are too far gone to repair. The lump in your throat is firm and strong, scaring you of what your voice might sound like in his ears.

"I'm sorry." It comes out as pathetic as you had expected, barely a whisper and wavering, you aren’t even sure that Din heard you.

Din's eyebrows draw together, lifting his head up and gazing down at you blindly. "For what?"

He doesn't know why you’re practically shaking in your small bed, you had seemed more than fine a few moments ago. You had fallen asleep in the cockpit and Din had somehow managed to carry you down to bed without waking you.

"For being a coward," you replied weakly, your eyes screwed shut to keep yourself from crying. You refused to cry in front of him for a second time.

Din would've laughed if he didn't hear the unadulterated pain and sincerity in your voice.

"What?" Din scoffed, cupping your face in his warm hand. He was confused and a little hurt that you’d even try to speak that way about yourself. "Cyar'ika, what's the meaning of this?"

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I couldn't say goodbye," you murmured, your throat aching as your muscles restrained a sob from racking through your form. Your whole body was shivering, Din's warmth unable to break through your unforgiving emotions bottled in your chest. "You were dying, and I couldn't say it."

And then it clicked, the mixed puzzle of Din's brain coming together in an instant as the words stumbling from your lips. All of it made perfect sense. How you wouldn't look at him in the eyes for days after you’d left Nevarro. The way you would practically hide from him, not wanting to touch him or speak to him, closing yourself off from him to keep yourself safe — maybe to keep both of you safe. He had initially thought you were just pissed at him for some reason that he must've missed, but this, this made sense.

"You're not a coward," Din assures, brushing his fingers through the wisps of hair that framed your face. He can feel your gaze on him, burning through his silhouette like a beam of plasma. He kisses you softly on her cheek, his facial hair prickling your soft skin. "You're the bravest person I know."

You shake your head, ripping his words to shreds. "I couldn't say it."

A heavy breath swells in Din's chest, pressing himself a little closer to your trembling form. "Then tell me now, cyar'ika. I'm here, I'm alive, so tell me now."

Your body stiffens, your muscles tightening at the thought. Why does it have to be so hard?

"I can't."

Din huffs out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Yes, you can, Kal Viinir'ika."

It should've been simple, it was three simple words that carried great weight. You had never spoken them before, the only times they were spoken to you ended with you running off. You didn't do love. Love was dangerous, it would kill you.

"Tell me," Din urges, pressing his lips delicately against yours like he was wary that you might shatter if he applied too much pressure.

Fuck.

It hurt that he was so sweet to you, it hurt to know that you were denying the one thing that he deserved to know.

Din Djarin deserved to know that he was loved unconditionally and completely by you. 

You swallowed thickly, praying that the words don't get caught in your throat because you suddenly feel like you might die if you lose him and never got the chance to tell him.

Din hummed, waiting patiently for you to speak.

You quickly wondered if anyone had ever told him before.

I love you. You think it, questioning if those words were even ones you deserved to speak. Probably not.

Din nudges you softly. "Cyar'ika—"

"I love you."

Your blood runs cold and you feels like the entire universe freezes over, trapping you in this insufferable moment of vulnerability. And you wait for the urge to flee to take you, or for it to instead seize Din, but neither of you move.

"You love me?"

The question hurts a lot more than it should. 

You nod, not knowing whether your voice would work if you tried speaking. Your silence followed by an eternity of nothing except for an uncomfortable tension that makes you beg that Din does something, anything. Tell you to leave, storm out of the room, kriffing shoot her— absolutely anything.

And thank the Maker, he moves. His thumb brushing against your plush bottom lip, applying the smallest amount of pressure before dipping his head forward. His kiss strange, almost out of character, but it sets you on fire nonetheless. It wasn't the first kiss you’ve shared and you prayed that it wouldn't be the last.

His lips are desperate, pouring every flicker of affection and adoration out of his body and into yours, filling you with his love. It's intensely carnal, yet almost too sweet for you to comprehend that it's Din Djarin kissing you.

Then he's pulling away, ripping his lips away from you painfully and sudden, gazing down at you half in a daze as you whimper at the loss of his warmth. You crave his affection.

"Cyar'ika." Not even the darkness can hide Din's grin, his forehead resting atop yours as an airy chuckle shakes through his chest. It's heavenly. You relish in the sound of his rare blissful laughter, wishing to bask in the warmth that fills your chest as it echoes in your ears. And for the first time in your life, you feel nothing but peace.

His deep baritone voice is lifted from a mixture of relief and bliss.

"I love you too."

━ ━ ━ ━

so... this is no edited, hehe... i’ll tryyyyyy to edit tomorrow but i always forget. i originally wrote this in third person but i changed it so there might be some weird sentences. i’ll proof read tomorrow. pinky promise :D

Also, quick PSA, if you ever find that my “reader” isn’t a true reader insert (i mean if i have description about the reader that may not fit everyone), please tell me. i want all of my readers to feel welcomed.

translations: Cyar'ika = darling, beloved, sweetheart Kal Viinir'ika = Blade Runner

[maxwell-grant]

Your Top Five Pulp Heroes that you wish were better known? By Pulp Hero fans, I mean. Since pretty much all of them except Conan and Tarzan are fairly unknown.

It’s actually quite hard for me to narrow it down to just five, because I’m having to choose between characters that are my favorites that I wish were more well-known and appreciated (which is all of them), and characters that aren’t quite my favorites but I very much think should have achieved great popularity for a myriad of reasons. So instead I’m going to pick some of each. These are not necessarily ranked by their importance or my personal taste, just 5 characters I felt like highlighting in particular. 

Honorable mentions goes to characters I already talked about prior and don’t want to repeat myself on. These aren’t “lesser” picks, just ones that I already talked about: Imaro (who in particular definitely feels like he could, and should be, a pop culture superstar if he was only more well-known), Kapitan Mors (who’s got a lot in common with one of my favorite fictional characters, Captain Nemo, but also has a lot of interesting things going on for him as his own character). Sar Dubnotal (a character that appeals a lot to me and I think should be included much more often in pulp hero team-ups). The Golden Amazon (again, definitely a character that feels like it’s just begging to have a pop culture breakout, even comic books rarely if ever have female supervillains this ruthless and over-the-top), The Mexican Fantomas (who absolutely deserves a better name than what I’m calling him here, because he’s incredibly awesome and leagues ahead of just being a knock-off). And of course my homeboy, The Grey Claw, whom I would consider Number One of the list if it wasn’t for the fact that his obscurity has left him untouched by copyright and I got plans of my own for the character that wouldn’t be possible if he was more well-known, so I guess I’m ultimately glad he’s obscure (even if I’m still bothered by how little he’s known). 

Allright let’s go:

Number 5: Sheridan Doome

Sheridan Doome appeared in fifty-four stories and three novels from 1935 to 1943. As chief detective for U.S. Naval Intelligence, Lieutenant Commander Sheridan Doome’s job was a grim one. Whenever an extraordinary mystery or crime occurred in the fleet, on a naval base, or anywhere the navy worked to protect American interests, Doome was immediately dispatched to investigate it. Fear and dread would always precede Doome’s arrival in his special black airplane. For, in an explosion during WWI, he had been monstrously disfigured. 

He was six feet two inches tall; had a chalk-white face and head. It appeared as though it had once been seared or burned. For eyes, he had only black blotches; glittering optics, that looked like small chunks of coal. His nose was long, the end of it squared off rudely. He had no lips, just a slit that was his mouth. His neck was long, as white and as bony as his face…. Sheridan Doome looked more like a robot than a human being. He was tall and ghastly; his uniform fitted him in a loose manner. Long arms hung at his sides; his face was a perfect blank. He had no control of his facial muscles; consequently, his countenance was always without expression, chalky and bony.

But behind the ugliness was a brilliant mind. Sheridan Doome always got his man. Before Sheridan Doome became a staple in the pages of The Shadow magazine, two Doome hardcover mysteries were written in the mid-1930’s by acclaimed hard-boiled author Steve Fisher (I Wake Up Screaming) and edited by his wife Edythe Seims (Dime Detective, G-8 and His Battle Aces). Age of Aces now brings you both books in one huge double novel, presented in a retro “flip book” style. This book is currently Out of Print.

I sadly don’t have any more information on the character other than this. The book is unavailable for me to acquire in any capacity, and the text above is taken from the Age of Aces website as well as Jess Nevins’s personal profile for the character. I’m not even sure if any of those 54 stories even exist anymore, since although he was published as a backup in Shadow Magazine, there doesn’t seem to be reprints of them anywhere, at least as far as I can find, and the original Shadow magazines have largely turned to dust by now. 

A character who combines aspects of The Phantom of the Opera and The Shadow, whose adventures are set in a backdrop that can easily lead to ocean adventures? That’s like, what, three of my favorite things in the world combined. I really, really wish I could at least read the stories this character stars in, but as is, this description is all I can provide. Again, time really has been cruel to the pulp heroes. 

Number 4: Harlan Dyce

This is another character I’ve only been able to learn about through Jess Nevins’s archives and have not been able to attain any further information on, which is sadly the case with a lot of pulp heroes that nowadays only seem to exist as footnotes in his Encyclopedia or records in libraries. I don’t post more about these characters because I really would just be copying the stuff he wrote without much to justify me quoting him verbatim, and I hate the idea of doing that.

I especially hate that in Harlan Dyce’s case though. Here’s his description

“Dyce had brains, taste, money, ambition, and a total lack of physical or spiritual fear. But—

“Dyce was thirty-three inches tall and weighed sixty pounds.

“That was all the world could ever hold against him. That was what had made the world, most of it, in all the countries of the world, stare at Harlan Dyce, billed in the big show as “General Midge.””

Harlan Dyce is a misanthropic and venomous private detective. He has an “amazingly handsome face,” and the aforementioned brains. But all anyone sees is his stature, and he hates that and turns his cold eyes and acid tongue on them. 

The only person Dyce likes and gets along with (besides his dwarf wife, a former client) is his assistant, Nick Melchem, a six-foot tall former p.i.’s assistant with bleak eyes and a strong body. Melchem ignores Dyce’s stature and treats Dyce normally, which Dyce responds warmly to.

Dwarfs may be the single most maligned group of people depicted in pulp magazines, even more so than the Japanese in the war years or the Chinese during the peak of the Yellow Peril’s popularity. Evil dwarfs, murderous dwarfs, sexually depraved dwarfs, they are all loathsome, ugly cliches that are, sadly, the only instances you see of dwarf characters being represented at all, with the only ones who are awarded any measure of sympathy are doomed henchmen or tragic villains.  Even outside of the pulps, the only other examples of heroic, protagonist dwarfs I can think off the top of my head are Puck from Marvel Comics and Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones.

I’m not gonna say Harlan Dyce is great representation because I’m not a little person and can never make that kind of claim for a group I’m not a part of, but Harlan Dyce may be the first time I’ve ever seen a dwarf character in pulp fiction who was not a villain or a murderous goon or a victim, but an actual person and a heroic protagonist, and that definitely counts for something. I’m not sure how popular this character was or could be if someone picked up the concept and ran with it (and I’m pretty sure he’s public domain), but I definitely think this is a character that should exist and should be popular. 

Hell, this character has Peter Dinklage written all over it, give it to him. Maybe then he will get to play a smart, fearless, cynical, misanthropic but good-natured and heroic character in something where he actually gets to keep these traits until the show ends.

Number 3: Audaz, O Demolidor

Audaz is a Brazilian character who was created and published by Gazetinha, the same publishers of Grey Claw as well as properties exported from elsewhere like Superman and Popeye, and much like The Grey Claw, he is also completely unknown even here. I’ll get to Audaz more in-depth sometime but here I’m going to provide a quick summary: 

Audaz, The Demolisher is a gigantic crime-fighting robot controlled and piloted by the brilliant scientist Dr. Blum, his close friend Gregor and the child prodigy Jacques Ennes, who pilot the giant robot from a massive laboratory inside it's head rather than a cockpit. He takes on a variety of ordinary human criminals, mad scientists, supervillains and invading armies, towering over skyscrapers and grappling with jets.

Audaz was created in 1939 by illustrator Messias de Melo, a year before Quality Comics's Bozo the Iron Man and 5 years before Ryuichi Yokoyama's Kagaku Senshi, and decades before the debut of Mazinger Z. Although he is not the first giant robot of science fiction, he is the first heroic giant robot piloted by human pilots, and thus the first true example of "mecha" fiction.

Number 2: Emilia the Ragdoll

This is another Brazilian character, although nowhere near as obscure as Audaz as even a cursory Google search can show. Although Brazil did not have a “pulp era” in the same way the US had, we’ve long gotten past the point of sticking to it as a definitive rule, and I’m including Emilia as a pulp hero because she’s a 1920s fantasy literature character who was created under a publishing company that released pulp stories, because she doesn’t quite belong in the mold of fantasy literature characters she takes after, and because I like her and if I was putting a bunch of pulp heroes together in the same story, I would definitely include Emilia in it. It’s not like she really has anywhere else to go, now that she’s public domain and she’s outlasted her franchise.

As you can tell by the above image, Emilia’s had a lot of variations over the years and that’s because the work she was created for, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo (Yellow Woodpecker Ranch/Farm), has become a major bedrock of Brazilian fantasy literature, one of the only works created here that you can find substantial information about in English if you go looking for it. Here’s some descriptions of Emilia’s character:

Emília is a rag doll described as "clumsy" or "ugly", resembling a "witch" that was handmade by Aunt Nastácia, the ranch's cook, for the little girl Lúcia, out of an old skirt. After Lucia takes her on an adventure and the doll is given a dose of magic pills, Emília suddenly started talking, and would never stop henceforth.

Emilia has a rough, antagonistic personality, and an independent, free-spirited and anarchist behaviour. She is rogue, rebellious, stubborn, rough and intensely determined at anything she sets her mind on, eager to take off on just about any adventure. She is often immature and behaves like a curious and arrogant child, always wanting to be the center of attention.

She is extremely opinionated even when she constantly and confidently mispronounces words and expressions. Her attitude often gets her into trouble, and she very often has to fight against the villains who attack her home on the Yellow Woodpecker Farm and mistreat her friends.

In the stories, Emilia often takes the role of a heroine who travels through different realms and dimensions, as the books include not only figures from Brazilian and worldwide folklore, but also several characters both real and fictional, such as Hercules, King Arthur, Don Quixote, Thumbelina, Da Vinci, Shirley Temple, Captain Hook, Santos Dumont and Baron von Munchausen.

She's fought scorpions and martians and nymph hordes, her arch-enemy is an alligator witch, she rescued an angel from the Milky Way and tried to teach it how to become a human, and once shrunk the entire population of Earth to try and talk the president of the United States into ending war forever.

To little surprise, she has become the most popular character and the series’s mascot.

It’s a little strange to consider Emilia underrated considering she is one of the most famous original characters of Brazilian literature, but hardly anyone outside of Brazil even knows who she is, and regardless of the quality of the original stories (and Monteiro Lobato’s views on race that tar much of his reputation), Emilia definitely feels to me like a character that should be a lot more popular globally. 

She is the only character from Yellow Woodpecker Ranch that has transcended the original stories, since she was always the most popular character and there’s been a couple of stories written about her that usually separate her from the ranch and just set her out on the world by herself. The latest story about this character has been a series called The Return of Emilia, that’s about her stepping out of the books in 2050 and discovering a Brazil that’s been ruined by social and ecological devastation, and traveling back in time via a flying scooter in order to try and prevent this calamity. 

Now that she’s public domain, I definitely think there’s some great stories that can be told with the character that just about anyone could get to, and I definitely think she’s a character that deserves more appreciation. Anything goes in stories starring her and it’s that kind of free-for-all freedom that I think can benefit future takes on pulp heroes. I would be very happy to place Emilia among them.

Oh yeah, and there was one time she kicked Popeye's ass by tricking him with a can of mouldy cabbage instead of spinach, making him sick and then beating him, which possibly puts her as one of the all-time badasses of fiction, except she would be pissed at not being number one and likely embark on a quest to beat everyone else just to prove she could, because that’s how Emilia rolls.

Number 1: Luna Bartendale, from The Undying Monster (1922)

Not necessarily my favorite of the bunch, but one who sort of epitomizes what you asked, a character who is both incredibly obscure and incredibly underrated in every sense. Despite the book being somewhat known, mainly thanks to the movie, the character is so obscure that I don’t even have an illustration of her to display here, not even fan art, just one of the book’s covers that I think best conveys it. Luckily, the book is also available freely online, so you can all go check it out here. The movie adaptation does not feature the character of Luna Bartendale which makes it pointless to talk about.

To not spoil it too much, The Undying Monster is a very fascinating book, ahead of it’s time in quite a few ways. You expect it to just be a detective story centered around a werewolf cursed, except the subtitle of the book is “The Fifth Dimension” and then it goes to talk about dimensions of thought and post-WWI trauma and love and hypnotic regression that travels through time and ancient runes and Norse mythology. It’s not exactly an easy book to get through in one setting, but I’d recommend it much the same if only because it’s got supersensitive psychic sleuth Luna Bartendale, literature’s first female occult detective, and she’s an incredible character who absolutely feels like she should have become a literary icon. 

She lives in London but is world-renowned for her many good deeds. She is a small, pretty woman, with curly blonde hair, dark eyebrows and a high-bridged nose, and a slight build. She has a voice described as a light soprano that "does not make much noise but carries a long way". 

Petite, bedimpled and golden curled, Luna is completely in charge of events, dominating every scene that she appears in with her welcoming disposition and cleverness. 

Bartendale has various psychic powers, including mind reading. She is well-versed in psychic and occult lore, is a “supersensitive” psychic, and has a “Sixth Sense” which allows her to trace things and people through both the Fourth and the Fifth Dimension. (The Fifth Dimension is “the Dimension that surrounds and pervades the Fourth–known as the Supernatural”).

Her extensive knowledge of occult rites and practices puts John Silence, Carnacki and Miles Pennoyer to shame, and she beats them all with her "super-sensitive" gift of being able to psychically connect with troubled souls and hypnotize them.

She uses a divining rod for various tasks, including psychic detection and tracking, and distinguishing between benevolent and malevolent forces. She has various (undefined) powerful psychic defenses, can carry on seances, and can even cure a person of “wehrwolfism.” And she can always rely on her massive, intelligent dog Roska for help.

Luna sadly doesn’t show up in the book as often as I’d hoped, but everything about this character is so delightful. In a lot od ways she hardly feels like a pulp hero, at least the ones I usually talk about. She feels like a lost protagonist from an incredibly successful kid’s adventure series where a kind and eccentric detective witch and her giant dog go around solving occult mysteries and encountering all sorts of weird supernatural beings while counseling and helping people, like Ms Frizzle meets Hilda. Like this character is just waiting for Cartoon Saloon to make a film about her.

Its not so much “this character should/could be popular but it’s clear why that didn’t pan out”, it’s more me being confused as “why the hell isn’t she super popular? This character should have had a franchise ages ago, holy shit put her in everything””