#I have a lot of fun facts about Rome

[devilish-frog-3]

Laurel Wreath

“Show me then. How much you want it”

It's happening, I survived my first round of exams only to share the third chapter of Laurel. I want to thank everyone who read this because you're amazing, and we all need to thank my betas @incendiodoloso & @r0tting-rat, without them I wouldn't have had the balls to post.

It's been a pleasure, but this isn't necessarily a goodbye, it might not be the end after all.

[lukolathoughts]

Dearest Gentle readers,

I have been a member of Tumblr for a while without posting a blog entry. I suppose I have been getting the lay of the land and trying to formulate my thoughts. As most of you know, I am a tarot reader on YouTube and I also share my thoughts on X. I am a Lukola through and through and no amount of bullying, intimidation, nasty comments etc. will deter me from my mission. The last few weeks my trolling comments have increased exponentially from what I can only assume are desperate Jakehole's, (apparently I am credited for making the term 'Jakehole' up, I actually have no idea if it was me or not, but I like it) trying to convince me that Nicola is with Jake and Luke is with Antonia. I will come to my thoughts on this in a moment.

I do realise that a public tarot reader, I put myself at risk to exposure and criticism from these types of people. I am fully aware of that. What I underestimate sometimes is the sheer vitriol they come with. I am an empath also and I absorb a lot of a energy, not just from the fandom, Luke and Nic and adjacents, but from my own life as well. I am a teacher and I am surrounded by a lot of people daily. I have always used my television shows as a coping mechanism to detach from reality and 'switch off'. I never thought this time last year I'd be sharing tarot readings on YouTube about a real life celebrity couple that I was barely aware of in January 2024. But here we are. Bridgerton season 3 took hold of my brain and injected some sort of magic crack into it and I haven't been the same since. Don't get me started on the press tour. I've never seen anything like it and it was honestly like a spiritual awakening.

But I digress, I have been reading for a few years and learning the tarot cards and their meanings. I have watched countless YT videos by other readers and I came into this fandom watching the OG tarot readers of the fandom. I do not see myself as any different or special, I just read the cards as they come out. I also repeatedly say 'this is for fun and entertainment purposes only, I do not personally know Luke and Nicola'. And the fact of the matter is I don't know them, none of us do. I do not follow them around all day like some weird little psychic Martha from Baby Reindeer. I merely read the energy of the cards and I observe.

Why I love teaching English so much for me, is there is never a right or wrong answer in English Literature. It is up to your interpretation and all about reading the subtext of what is really going on. Now you might call me delusional, but I have always had an uncanny knack for predicting who the murderer in a story is before the end of a novel. It's called critical thinking. This drives my husband mad because he is very black and white and for him 2+2 = 4. Simple as. For me, I'm like wait a minute, what if... My brain is like a whimsical, magical unicorn sometimes, but I always go with my gut and my intuition. I will NOT waver on my intuition because I believe it is stronger than my rational mind.

Ok, so here we go. In my opinion haters!! Nicola is not now or ever has been with Jake Dunn romantically. My readings tell me he sees her as mother figure and mentor. Jake is clearly gay and most likely in some sort of relationship with Dylan. I think the Jakehole ship is a dead, rotting corpse. Nicola and Jake have reached the end of their agreement where she provides him with networking opportunities in exchange for some possible PR diversion to take the heat off Nicola's real relationship. William Tell is out. Luke is home from Rome, there is no need for Jake anymore. I also get the feeling from my readings that Jake is tired. Nicola is tired and Dylan is doing his best to set the narrative straight. I do not need tarot cards for this, it's blindingly obvious. As far as I know, Jake has no straight male friends. It is extremely rare in UK culture for straight men to hang out with all gay men and feel secure about that. It's just the way things are. I am not saying Jake and Nic are not friends, of course they are and I won't begrudge them that. I think he has a lot of genuine affection for her, but he also sees her as someone who can get him places and opportunities which we have seen time and time again.

And now we come to Antonia. I know she is only 23/4 and young and whatever. I have taught students older than her. But I will be truthful and say I don't like her energy. I don't like reading on her. I don't trust her little dancing self. I did have some sympathy for her in October as I had big crushes on boys when I was young, I get it. Luke is hot. But that pasta video she shared in Rome (a video she could have got from anywhere and shared an hour after she had seen Luke had been there) by her was mean, malicious and intentional to hurt the fandom. Her flouncing around with a shitty red bag always implying she's in Luke's vicinity is also callous and calculating and she's shared so much pasta stories now, it almost puts me off eating it. Almost, I love pasta. The biggest takeaway for me is she was not with Luke this Christmas and NYE. It is well documented where she was. We do not not know where Luke was, but we do know Nic was spotted with a lovely tan at the WT premiere. Could Antonia be PR? I sigh, because I think it's more complicated than that. In my readings, I do pick up a delusional obsession from her in regards to Luke. But she is convenient to bring up when they need her. I know the haters will call me delusional for thinking this and as my husband would say if 2 + 2 = 4 then it's 4.

But is it 4? Is it so straightforward as that? My intuition is telling me no, it's not. We have had no sign of Luke being anywhere near Antonia since July in Sorrento when he jumped on a plane and left two days early alone. All Antonia has are literally pasta videos and photos, that I am convinced, enraged Luke. She is giving me serious Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction vibes.

Let's address the elephant in the room. The comment by 'Luke's mum' on her private FB account to a relative. I think it's bullshit. I have three boys and I'm telling you now I would walk through fire if anyone touched a hair on their heads. I will go to prison for my kids. If I was Luke's mum and some 23 year old dancer had systematically tried to ruin my son's career, and she did folks, I would not be writing on a public page outing her as my son's girlfriend. It is all too suspicious and convenient. I could speculate for hours on what has happened, but you guys have group chats and your own brains for that. As one ship falls, another one rises in an unexplained manner.

In conclusion, yes I do believe Nic and Luke are together and this is a very important time for them right now. The silence is LOUD for me. I keep getting the four of swords for Nic. She is resting and taking care of herself in the way that she should. Luke is in a besotted Emperor mode. All is good. Until Nic and Luke specify otherwise, that is what I am sticking with.

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror.............a series

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (named, but not visually described besides hair length)

[In progress]

[ Part I ] [ Part II ] [ Part III ] [ Part IV ] [ Part V ] [ Part VI ] [ Part VII ] [ Part VIII ] [ Part IX ] [ Part X ] [ Part XI ] [ Part XII ] [ Part XIII ] [I'll add more if I need to]

Macrinus has plans. Layers and layers of plans. He thinks he's found his perfect instrument in the form of Letha and recruits her to his cause. She has reason enough to bring vengeance upon the twin Emperors of Rome, but once she falls under the ever-watchful gaze of Emperor Geta, her will folds. Foiling an assassination attempt, Letha becomes Geta's new fixation. Still, Macrinus's aspirations are halted for no one. Can Letha weather the wrath of Macrinus? And what would happen if Geta knew the truth of her role in this dangerous game?

Or so it might say on the blurb on the back if you picked it up off the shelf. Born of the way I couldn't stop thinking about Geta after seeing GII. Also, I'm a sucker for Denzel Washington so Macrinus is definitely around. I hope this is halfway decent, I've spent a lot of time on it. If only for myself, I suppose.

This is a series, tentatively 13 parts? It could be longer if I can't rein myself in. Some parts are much longer than others because I didn't want to divide it up. Mostly from our character's POV, but occasionally we slip into Geta's mind. Even Macrinus's, where necessary. I try to make it as clear as possible when perspective shifts.

Letha is our character. She has an "origin" but I was careful to not specify what region she originates from. You can choose for yourself. I have gone out of my way to avoid describing her physically besides the fact that she has long hair and female body features/anatomy. If I missed something, please let me know. Hopefully she feels accessible to most. I just couldn't do the (y/n) thing for a series like this, or avoid using a name. It flows better. Thanks for understanding.

This is heavily modified from the movie. I really just pulled out the entire Acacius/Lucilla/Lucius main plot and went with the super interesting (to me) sub plot of the twin emperors and the man who wants to tear Rome down. Plus Letha, of course.

Historical inaccuracies abound, I'm sure. I did my best but for certain things I couldn't find sources that weren't paywalled peer-reviewed journals or I didn't know how to begin to look for information about. Still, I tried to keep it within reason. I apologize in advance.

I have my own read on the twins and it might be different from yours, but I hope you like it just the same. Besides enjoying the arena and wishing their enemies death, I didn't get the vibe that they were particularly violent, at least not in the five? days we see them. Well, they just deserved better. I don't know that I'm going to give them that here, but I'm gonna try.

Anyways, thanks for reading all this. Hope you like it.

(Moodboard by moi. I spent a long time on it for no real reason, I'm only using it here. It's just fun. I also have a playlist, but I don't think the songs necessarily obviously inspired anything. It's hard to relate them to Ancient Rome. But if you want to know what it was, I'd be more than happy to share it.)

[ninakoll]

answering a bunch of asks all in one post, hope you dont mind i compiled them all together!! they're from a longer time period but today i just needed to draw lots so...

YAAYY i agree so much about rinne......... i just want them to age gracefully and happily ok........... be 36 and go to rome together

@kyokills i misread this as cinnamon garola at first:DDD i love crunchy cinnamon granola i make it very often so this is good news to me!!! here is an appropriate kanata with gars for you 🤲🤲

WAHAA thank you so much... i love drawing noses and facial variation!!! i got to go thru a rly fun workshop in uni where we were forced out of our comfort zone in drawing faces and shapes and i think i still got that to thank..!!

;___________; 😭😭😭😭❤️anon... this made me rly happy, thank you very much. the day i got this ask was a wonderful day!! i hope you'll have more free time soon... and stay strong through school. you reminded me of the fact that kohaku is still in school... do the others help him out sometimes to varying degrees of success?

sending love to everyone today 🫂

[sforzesco]

BROTHERS

The river Weser ran between the Roman and Cheruscan forces. Arminius came to the bank and halted with his fellow chieftains:— "Had the Caesar come?" he inquired.​ On receiving the reply that he was in presence, he asked to be allowed to speak with his brother. That brother, Flavus by name, was serving in the army, a conspicuous figure both from his loyalty and from the loss of an eye through a wound received some few years before during Tiberius' term of command. Leave was granted, and Stertinius took him down to the river. Walking forward, he was greeted by Arminius; who, dismissing his own escort, demanded that the archers posted along our side of the stream should be also withdrawn. When these had retired, he asked his brother, whence the disfigurement of his face? On being told the place and battle, he inquired what reward he had received. Flavus mentioned his increased pay, the chain, the crown, and other military decorations; Arminius scoffed at the cheap rewards of servitude.

They now began to argue from their opposite points of view. Flavus insisted on "Roman greatness, the power of the Caesar; the heavy penalties for the vanquished; the mercy always waiting for him who submitted himself. Even Arminius' wife and child were not treated as enemies." His brother urged "the sacred call of their country; their ancestral liberty; the gods of their German hearths; and their mother, who prayed, with himself, that he would not choose the title of renegade and traitor to his kindred, to the kindred of his wife, to the whole of his race in fact, before that of their liberator." From this point they drifted, little by little, into recriminations; and not even the intervening river would have prevented a duel, had not Stertinius run up and laid a restraining hand on Flavus, who in the fullness of his anger was calling for his weapons and his horse. On the other side Arminius was visible, shouting threats and challenging to battle: for he kept interjecting much in Latin, as he had seen service in the Roman camp as a captain of native auxiliaries.

Tacitus Annals 2.10-11

there's a lot going on in there! Arminius switching to Latin is a detail that always makes me feel a deep kind of sadness, especially with how it's preceded by mention of their mother. I wonder what she thought of what became of her sons, on opposite sides of everything but still, inescapably, brothers. even when they want to kill each other. there sure are a lot of fucked up and unhappy brothers around. and Arminius asking about Flavus' injury............I also had a whole thing typed out about the horror of imperialism and colonization and the trauma of assimilation but I think this sets the tone better

Rome's Greatest Defeat: Massacre in the Teutoburg Forest, Adrian Murdoch

and also this, just for fun

(ibid)

this post is already a mile long, so lets add another mile to it: a little scene at the start of their conversation! tfw you go in for a hug and your younger brother who also ended up being taller starts roasting your hair style

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app⭐ko-fi

[visionsofyouandme]

II. to sing it to you all alone

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Games are played, ties deepen- a dance, a confession, a kiss.

𝚠/𝚌: 5.1k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: f!reader. Age gap (or no age gap- you decide!). Gladiatorial violence. Alcohol consumption. Intoxication. Slow burn. Marcus is down BAD (and we love to see it). MORE pining, yearning, wanting (by both parties).

𝙰/𝙽: Part 2 is here! Marcus being a sopping mess of a man who is hopelessly in love is so fun to write. Hope everyone had a good holiday season, and the new year is upon us! Can't wait to see what kind of projects are in store. I have a lot to share, and I can't wait for you guys to see! Happy reading <3

Translations for my shitty use of Latin are at the bottom!

Part I : AO3

Marcus arrived at the Colosseum later than he would have liked. The games were already in full swing by now, and he had approached the Patrician box seats. He recognized a few other military leaders there, and a few senators and lesser politicians. They all greeted him with those same smiles and boisterous words that he loathed so much. He found himself searching as subtly as he could before he finally laid eyes on you.

You sat apart from the rest, watching the spectacle below as fighters swung swords and mortally wounded one another. Your husband was standing not too far behind you, conversing with his fellow senators who had wives or courtesans on their arms. Marcus could not tell the difference at this point, and paid them no mind.

“My Lady,” he greeted as he came upon your seat, and you looked up at him with an expecting, warm smile.

“General.” you returned, and he gestured to sit, which you granted him with a nod. You turned your head back to the fighters just as one had sliced the head off of their opponent. Marcus’ eyes flew to you, but it was evident you didn’t do so much as flinch. You just had this look about you, like you smelled something horrendous but were trying to be polite.

“Are you and your husband enjoying the battles?” he questioned, shifting in the seat to watch as the victor raised his arms, the crowd roaring their approval. You sighed, leaning back in your seat, hand moving to the top of your red stola. He could see a glint of gold on your neck, and recognized the medallion. He smiled to himself, and looked out as they brought out a group of fighters against two tigers. 

“I do not think my husband is doing much spectating. Which leaves me with all the fun.” you said, sighing and shaking your head. Marcus nodded, chuckling lightly,

“You seem to be thrilled with your time here. These public games are somewhat subdued compared to when the Emperor is present.” Marcus said, and you watched the men roll in the sand to dodge the tigers, poking them with spears.

“It all seems the same to me. Brutality and bloodshed, no matter how big or how little it is, is still brutality and bloodshed.” you said, and Marcus looked down at his hands, curling them into fists gently. He was a part of that, what you had spoken of. In fact, he had done both with his own hands on countless occasions. He swallowed, and looked up as the crowd groaned in disappointment. His eyes shifted to you, who seemed to be staring daggers into the men in the arena. If looks could kill, surely those men would be halfway to Avernus by now. 

“I agree,” he said quietly. You shifted in your seat, silent for a moment until your eyes finally turned to rest on his form. 

“You’d know better than anyone about the effects of war, General Acacius. It can do a number on the human body, the mind. I can only imagine the things you’ve seen. How you feel about them.” you said quietly, and he smiled, reaching over and taking your hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

“If I remain breathing and fighting for Rome, you will never know the pain of war. This, I promise you.” he said, and you looked at him with a bitter sadness in your eyes.

“Who says I have not known it already?” you questioned. Before Marcus could speak, he heard Caecilius call for him as he stumbled over to the seats, and you quickly withdrew your hand from Marcus’. It seemed so unnatural, so jarring to suddenly not have your warmth in the palm of his hand. 

Caecilius seemed to be drunk yet again, eyes glassy and swaying on his feet. He seemed an awfully aloof man who was supposed to be a senator, always under the influence for whatever reason. He knew being a politician wasn’t the easiest job, with a lot resting on one’s shoulders, but Marcus still thought you should be sober when conversing with your equals on formal terms.

“Entertaining my wife, I see?” Caecilius hiccups, coming to your side and placing his hand on your shoulder. You placed your hand over his, and looked up at him,

“The General was just commenting on the excitement of the games. I had to agree, of course. Nothing more entertaining than seeing men slaughter each other.” you said so sweetly that it flew right over Caecilius’ head, but Marcus’ eyebrows shot up. Caecilius smiled at you fondly, pinching your cheek gently with a wink,

“I knew you had a barbaric side to you, my wife. You always seem so enthralled by the men’s shedding of blood. Who’d have thought,” Caecilius hiccuped, swiveling to look at Marcus, almost stumbling to look at him in his seat, “that my darling wife would be so interested in warfare.” he said, patting your head affectionately like a man would his dog. If you seemed uncomfortable, you didn’t show it, simply looking down as they dragged the men’s corpses back to the underbelly of the Colosseum to dispose of.

“Caecilius!” a voice called, and you actually turned at this with a smile, seeing Jahiem walk in adorned in a grey toga with silver lining, a man at his side. You recognized him as Athos, and gave him a nod in greeting.

“Jahiem!” the man responded, walking over and greeting him with a peck on the cheek and a strong hug. 

“You have quite the job- entertaining your wife and the General. Have I missed all the fun?” Jahiem questioned and pat Caecilius on the shoulder. You rose, smiling gently and Marcus could sense your discomfort. Too many people at once, too many smiles, too imposing. 

“The day is young, and the games have only begun! We are in for a grand performance by Rome’s finest gladiators…” Caecilius said, and you bowed, excusing yourself but tossed Jahiem a grateful smile before walking up the steps and into the entryway. Marcus had sat for only a moment, trading pleasantries before following after your path, Jahiem’s eyes on him before flitting back to Caecilius with a grin, stepping down with him to the seats below.

He stepped into the entryway, where a long table full of food, wines and flowers were dispersed. With your back to Marcus, you picked up a glass and took a long sip, oblivious to Marcus’ presence. Or so he thought.

“I apologize for my speaking out of turn. I should not lecture the General Marcus Acacius on the toils of war.” you said, glancing back at him, and he walked to your side, shaking his head. The sound of clinking swords and cries of frustration echoed behind the walls, the crowd overpowering it all. 

“Everyone has an opinion on war. And what you said is true, I must agree.” he said, picking up a thinly sliced piece of meat and wrapping it over some bread.

“But, I must ask… what did you mean by your last words?” he questioned, his eyes shifting to you. He could see a suddenly very vulnerable look on your face, and you smiled weakly. 

“That is a long story, for a different time. You may think of me differently, though. I would understand if you would not want to affiliate with me again.” you said as casually as you could muster, attempting to keep your voice strong but he could sense a sorrow in them. His eyebrows knit together, and he reached out to touch the curve of your elbow gently. 

“My Lady, that would never be the case. Ever.” he said, and quickly dropped it when a servant girl came to refill the wine jugs. You both stepped to the side, and you shook your head.

“Never say never.” you said quietly, and he could see a faraway look in your eyes. How he longed to touch you and bring you near, hold you to his chest and make your troubles slide off of your shoulders. Whatever burden you carried, he could take it. He could take it all, if it meant seeing you smile again.

“Whatever it is, I will not think of you any less than how I do now,” he said, glancing at the servant girl as she skittered off. He sighed, and met your eyes, his amber orbs reflecting in the dim sunlight that still made its way through the doorway. You smiled, and put your hand on his arm gently, giving it a squeeze,

“You make a lot of promises, General,” you laughed dryly, and he shook his head.

“I am true to my word, believe me.” he responded, and moved a bit closer as voices came near, passing through the entryway to the exit. He could smell a bit of the oil perfume you wore- hints of something fresh, like juniper and rosemary. A softness about you, one he wished he could lean down and taste for himself. 

Maybe one day, he could.

When he turned to you, you were only inches apart from each other, and he could see you looking between each of his eyes quickly. Your hand gripped the chalice like you were holding on to the edge of a cliff for dear life. He would be there to rescue you, to pull you to safety. He had promised himself this, and silently to you.

“May I see you again?” you questioned quietly, cautiously, like someone may hear. He nodded, and thought for a moment,

“I have a small gathering planned for the solstice at my villa. You, most importantly, are invited. I know your husband must accompany you, but I will reserve a place just for you at my table.” he said and reached down, taking your free hand in his and pressing a deep kiss to your knuckles. It would have to do for now. He craved you, every part. He would worship every part of you, taste every plane of skin, let his fingers dance along the curves of your body. He would absolutely ravish you, give you every ounce of adoration you deserved.

“Please, promise me you will be there.” he said quietly, still holding your hand within his own, his other hand moving to join it like he would begin to pray. You looked at him with soft, adoring eyes, and nodded.

“You make it hard to deny you, when you look at me like that,” you giggled softly, echoing your words in the marketplace. He smiled, and pressed another deep kiss to your hand, “I promise you I will come, Marcus.” 

The sound of his true name on your lips almost knocked the wind out of him, and he couldn’t help but grin. “I will hold you to it, then. Formal invitations shall be sent out soon, I will make sure one is sent to your household. Wear your finest robes, it is a celebration after all.” he chuckled, and you heard footsteps yet again and you shifted away from him, turning to the table and refilling your chalice. Marcus watched, nodding with a smile as people walked by, trying to look as unassuming as possible.

“I already long to see your face again,” he said lowly, his fingertips reaching to glide against your forearm gently. He could feel gooseflesh rise on your skin, and he tried but failed to keep the smile to himself. You turned your head away, exposing the curve of your neck. He imagined leaning his face into it, inhaling your perfume, your personal human scent. Lavish your skin with kisses, letting his hand become familiar with the slope of your neck to your shoulders. 

You turned your face upwards to him, and he saw your eyes move unmistakably to his lips. Your own lips parted, and he could feel anticipation bubbling in his chest to his lower abdomen. 

God, he would give you the stars if you asked.

“Call upon me, if you’d like. I could use the company until your party.” you said, your eyes flitting back to him with a smile. He nodded, trying to contain himself and he returned the smile.

“If the Lady so pleases, then call upon you, I shall.” 

 Marcus was true to his word. He visited you twice the following week, one to hand deliver an invitation himself. Unfortunately, Caecilius was there that time, but Marcus was good natured about it, conversing and smiling politely as you sat at the other side of the table, watching in amusement as the men talked. In truth, Marcus was paying no mind to Caecilius and his ramblings. He could only revel in your presence, even if it was indirectly. 

The second time, he made sure Caecilius was not there. He had a trusted manservant, Phabios, who he had sent to your villa to scope out before he had come. When he had returned to tell him you were alone, Marcus embarked on his journey to see you. When he arrived, you entertained him with food and drink as usual, the company nothing but amiable and casual. Only stolen glances and knowing smiles were shared between the two of you during your meeting.

But, some people began to notice, hiding in the shadows.

The day of the party had drawn near, and you felt a certain giddiness about you. Excitement about seeing Marcus in the comfort of his own abode took you over. Even though it was under formal circumstances, you were still looking forward to conversing with him nonetheless.

When you arrived, Caecilius held you close on his arm and raved about the grand majesty of Marcus’ home. Set in the neighborhood of those rich and powerful of Rome, he had more room to move around than most, and therefore enough room to accommodate such a large party. He had fresh garlands adorned with flowers hung on the walls, lanterns and torches lit to help with the dark evening, a small band and Greek cantor playing in the corner. 

You took it all in, holding your excess of the deep red palla over your arm as your other was woven between Caecilius’. Your hair, upturned and out of your way, had a transparent gold veil hanging over it to protect it from the elements. 

And the pendant Marcus had bought for you lay between your collarbones, gold and glistening in the torchlight.

“Ah! General Acacius!” Caecilius greeted as Marcus turned from some other guests. Marcus smiled kindly and took Caecilius’ hand in greeting. 

“Senator. My Lady.” he greeted, his eyes lingering on you for just a beat, but Caecilius was oblivious as he gestured around, complimenting the architecture and decor of the grand villa. 

“I take all of your compliments to heart, sir. Your praise is heard and valued.”

“I can only hope my humble home is a fraction as nice as yours. But, you are a good man, and have worked hard for it. Don’t you think so, my dear?” Caecilius questioned, turning to you and you smiled, nodding.

“Absolutely. General Acacius is a brave and noble icon of Rome. He should be rewarded as such.” you said, and Marcus smiled wide. He nodded, glancing behind you two as he saw more people filing in.

“Please, enjoy. Make yourselves at home. Indulge in the drink, the food… imported from the Greek colonies.” he said, and Caecilius wiggled his eyebrows with a grin, and thanked him, pulling you along. You smiled at Marcus in passing, and could feel his gaze lingering on you as you walked away.

As the night went on, you conversed with other high ladies of Rome, and kept your wine intake to a minimum. Your eyes followed Marcus as he milled about the rooms, playing host with smiles and conversation. 

The cantor kept a lively mood, and soon enough there was space in the room for a dance line. You weren’t going to partake in the fun, Caecilius abandoning you for his friends who were also lucky to score an invitation. You watched as Marcus, surprisingly, joined in the dance and moved around the floor with a noble lady with curly hair as dark as night and golden skin, her soft pink dress swishing in the movement of the dance.

You felt something akin to jealousy rise in your chest. You were not paying attention to the senator and his wife who talked over you anyway with another noble lady. You could only hold your drink and watch with a neutral expression at the dance that unfolded before you.

You had broken away from the group and found the refreshment table, picking at the abundant food. Just as you reached for a piece of pomegranate, you felt a familiar presence come to your side.

“I admire your adornments this evening, My Lady.” Marcus said, and you turned to him with a smile, glancing at the pendant on your chest before looking back at him.

“Thank you. It was a wonderful gift from an equally wonderful man.” You said with a knowing look, and he smiled. Anyone on the outside would have thought you were talking about Caecilius, at least that was the intention.

“He is very lucky to be in your good graces.” Marcus mused, and his eyes flit over your form. You faced him fully, and could see how hungrily he took in you and your appearance. “I was inquiring if you would honor me with the next dance.”

You looked at him with a surprised look, but couldn’t help but fold into his request.

“Of course, General. It would be my honor.” You said, abandoning the pomegranate and took his hand, walking to the dance floor as the band struck up another tune. This one was slower, but good enough to dance to. You faced him in the line, and bowed as the music began.

And you danced.

Oh, you danced with him, and it was the most intimate thing you had ever been a part of in all of your years on this wretched planet. 

His gaze never left you, his face fading between adoration, longing, lust, and admiration. You could only smile, and knew you had to keep as neutral of a face as you could to not betray how you felt. Every time your hands touched in the spin to switch sides, it was like fire igniting your skin. His gaze locked on to you was borderline obscene, and you could feel eyes on you as danced across the floor in tandem.

But, with the way he would fade in and out of closeness, his amber eyes taking in every move, you felt the world fall away. All you could feel was bliss.

The song came to an end, and you finished with a mutual bow. When you rose, you could see the expression on his face turn to casual smiles as he nodded to his fellow dancers. You smiled and broke away, feeling a heat creep on your skin, longing in your veins. 

“It is a shame the General is not married. He would make a fine husband to a lucky woman.” one of the ladies in your circle said, shaking her head somberly. 

“Well, don’t you remember? All those years ago, he once was. His wife had died in childbirth, I heard, the tragedy of it all. Lovely woman, too, from the way some still talk affectionately of her.” another said, and you turned your head, keeping your face casual but inside you were surprised. You had heard little of Marcus’ past, even with the brief conversations you had had with him so far. 

“Ah, yes. I do remember. That must have been, what? Ten years’ past? It is surprising he has not remarried since. But being in the profession of war, who really has time for a wife?” the first woman said, and you swallowed another gulp of wine. Smiling sweetly, you excused yourself under the guise of retrieving more wine. You approached the table and extended your cup to the servant girl who poured you some more from the amphora and you smiled, giving a small thanks. 

You made your way to the outside gardens, the cool night settling over you. It was a strong contrast to the stuffy, hot air inside the villa that was packed with bodies. You wiped your brow of the sweat that had accumulated there, and walked deeper into his gardens. You could smell the flowers that grew there, soft and sweet, as well as the herbs that grew there. You recognized one, and bent down to touch it gently. It was just a small thing, barely having grown and freshly planted, but still alive and thriving. You touched the leaves gently, retrieving your fingers and could smell it faintly.

Juniper.

You heard footsteps behind you, yet you remained crouching.

“Admiring the flora?” an unmistakable voice chuckled, and you turned to look at Marcus over your shoulder with a smile.

“Yes. You do have a wonderful, sprawling garden. I am impressed.” you said, rising to your feet, cup still clutched in your hand. Marcus gazed at you in the dim light that only reached so far from the villa, but you could still see the lightest smile.

“I am glad. Are you enjoying yourself?” he questioned, and you nodded, glancing at the respectable distance between you two. It felt like a canyon, deep and wide and filled you with yearning.

“Yes, of course. You have an impressive home.” you said. He glanced around at the tall bushes that seemed to conceal you both from the party, and drew nearer to you. He took your cup and placed it on a nearby bench so he could take both of your hands within his.

“It is all for you, you know.” he said quietly, and you felt your heart jump in your throat. You smiled, swallowing thickly.

“If you wanted to impress me, you could have done less, and I would have loved it all the same.” you said with a light laugh, and he smiled, nodding.

“I wanted to show you… show you what-” he began, and your eyebrows furrowed at this. He seemed to abandon his thoughts, and brought your hands up so he could kiss them.

“I am glad you are here. I do not care about showing off, but I wanted you to know… this evening, this party, is all to have you here.” he said, his brown eyes boring holes into you in a way that sent shivers down your spine and heat that pooled in your lower stomach.

“I know I cannot have you call here, in fear of what people will say. Your reputation, your honor, is important. I cannot let that be in jeopardy.” he explained quietly, and you smiled gently. You had never experienced someone who valued you above themselves. He was protecting you, thinking of you and your wellbeing. You knew the punishment of adultery in Rome- and it did not treat women kindly. 

Not that this was anything like that.

“You are kind, Marcus.” you said quietly, and he brought your hands to press against his chest, pulling you so close to him you could see the faint scars across his cheekbone and over the curve of his nose. You wanted to reach out and trace the lines, familiarize yourself with his features that you had come to admire.

“But… I cannot let you walk away without telling you how I feel,” he said, and you could feel his heart begin to pick up beneath your hands, underneath his clothing. Your eyebrows knit together, and you shook your head gently,

“Marcus-“

“Please,” he whispered quietly, standing nearly chest to chest with you. “You are the most… you are everything. I admire your bravery, your quick wit, your ability to keep a calm and level head even in the most loathsome situations. Your poise, your beauty, the way you carry yourself… Everything you do, everything you are- I admire it, I crave it, I cannot go a day without you in my thoughts.” 

You could only stand still, as still as the marble statues around the city, feeling his racing heart beneath your hands. Your eyes began to well up with tears, and he released one of your hands to cup your cheek gently.

“I know I cannot have you in the way that is good, that is proper- but I have to make my feelings known. I hate standing by and seeing you unhappy, seeing you with him… When I want you with every part of my soul.” He added, shaking his head gently, and you could feel his body so close to you, his words making you feel so fragile and yet so strong all at once. “Mea amata, mea vita, I do not care if the sky parts now and it starts raining fire. Nothing in heaven nor any of the Gods can stop me from giving you my heart.” 

You didn’t realize you were trembling until he pressed his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone gently. “Perhaps I can have you in the next life. What I have of you now, though… That will be enough.”

You didn’t know what to say. No one had given you a grand romantic gesture, words of affirmation, or words of pure adoration. Marcus had always looked at you with this heaviness in his eyes. And now, he was finally expressing those looks into feelings now. 

Unable to form a coherent response, you were possessed by a force and you leaned your head up, kissing him softly, your hand moving to return the touch to his own cheek. He leaned into it instantly- hungrily, achingly, with so much passion it may have knocked you over had you not found the strength to stand. The noise of the party had faded away, even the chirping of crickets and soft breeze were nothing to your senses. 

He pulled you by the waist to bring you flush against him, and he turned his head to taste more of your lips. You held on to him, a hand moving from his cheek to the side of his neck while the other moved to his forearm to hold yourself steady. You leaned into him, opening your mouth just enough to part your lips for him and he slid his tongue inside, sliding it over yours. You let out a soft sigh, and his hand tightened on your waist, bunching the fabric of your stola in his fist. 

As you pressed your body against his, you could hear him grunt and suddenly felt something pressing against your stomach. Hard, aching, and hard to go unnoticed. You knew what this meant in a man, what was to follow. But, you knew he would not force it upon you. Even behind closed doors, you had a feeling he wouldn’t dream of handling you in such a barbaric way.

“Please,” he panted, leaning his forehead against yours, his breath fanning your face. “Let me call upon you tomorrow. Morning, day, evening, night- I will be there as soon as you say. We may do nothing but sit under the gaze of the Gods, converse, drink wine-” he laughed lightly, giving your lips a peck and you smiled up at him. His laughter was a sweet song, so light and free, something you realized you hadn’t heard genuinely from him.  

“Whatever it is, whatever you want… I am at your feet, My Lady. Even if you wish to never see me again, I will do it. Ask me for anything and you will have it before you can exhale another breath.” 

You could only gaze at him softly, so much unspoken between you that he was bypassing all in the name of devotion and adoration. Your wretched past, Marcus’ lost family, the secrecy of this confession hanging heavy in the air. You were elated, worried, thrilled, and terrified all at the same time. Who knew you were capable of such emotion, after years of stamping everything down except anger and bitterness?

There was so much on your mind, so much pressing at the front of your cranium that you didn’t think about the words that came spilling out of your mouth,

“Tomorrow night. Caecilius is going… he’ll be out. He will not be home until late into the night. I will send someone for you.” you said, your hand tracing down his stubbled jawline, and you kissed his lips deeply, already begging for another taste. Holding your face with such firmness, it was like if he didn’t you would fall away into nothingness. It felt good to be wanted, to be kept safe, to be… loved. 

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours, and breathed gently, his breath fanning your face.

“I will anxiously await your messenger.” he said with a soft smile, and you nodded, your hand moving to lay over his, but you both looked up when you heard voices coming to the garden. He looked back at you, kissing you again deeply as if it were the last time he would get to do so. But you knew it was only the beginning.

“Go. I will go around the back to avoid suspicion. Be careful… and I will see you again soon.” Marcus whispers against your lips, and you pull away reluctantly, your hand grasping his until the last moment until you let it fall. You smiled and nodded, picking up the abandoned chalice, and he bowed, turning and heading into the darkness of the bushes. You found your way back, finding a group laughing rancorously just outside the gardens. You smiled and slipped past them, back inside the safety of the villa. You found Jahiem, who gave you a questioning look, but you only smiled lightly and lifted your head to jump into whatever conversation lay ahead of you. 

You moved about the room, maintaining appearances and approached the food table. You turned your head at the sound of someone greeting Marcus. You picked up a piece of fruit, and turned your head back to see the pomegranate laying in your palm. 

And like Prosperpina committing herself to Pluto, you bit into it, a sliver of juice escaping the corner of your mouth. You swiped at it gently, and licked your finger. 

You had eaten the fruit, now you must pay the price. 

Translations: Patrician (Roman high class), Avernus (Underworld), Cantor (singer), Amphora (wine vessel), Mea Amata (my beloved), Mea Vita (my life).

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always loved and adored.

[percyluvr]

heyyyy, so i was wondering if you were feeling up to it if you could write a jason grace x poseidon!reader. it’s basically like a scene from where they just began the journey on the argo and percy, being the slow and loveble older brother he is, finds out jason is dating his little sister and some silly chaos ensues at the dinner table

jason grace x daughter of poseidon!reader summary: your boyfriend and your brother have issues at first, but bond over the fact that they both love you with all their hearts wc: 1199

You and Jason had been dating since he'd appeared randomly at camp with Leo and Piper. You had been so devastated over the disappearance of your brother, and Jason had been struck by your beauty. He did everything in his power to help you feel better, and during the process, the two of you had fallen deeply in love.

Every now and then you thought about Percy and what he would think of your new boyfriend, and you would be sad all over again, but Jason never failed to make you feel better. Jason Grace was the ideal boyfriend, you thought, and he proved it more and more every single day that the two of you were together.

When the Argo II was built, and the lost trio was ready to head off to New Rome, Jason was the one that suggested you come with to see if your brother was there. The suggestion just further proved what a wonderful person and boyfriend he was, and you accepted the offer.

Your voyage to New Rome held lots of good memories and fun, but the closer the ship got to New Rome, the more worried you were that your brother wouldn't be there, even if it was almost 100% guaranteed that he would be. You didn't think you could handle it if you lost another person, especially your brother who'd been there for you your entire life. He protected you when the two of you first arrived to camp, even though he was scared out of his mind, and he protected you and comforted you when your mother had gotten turned into dust by the minotaur, even though he was just as devastated by the loss of her. The two of you shared so many memories together and thinking of them only made you sadder when you realized how long it had been since you last saw him.

The Argo II arrived in New Rome, and you all had a peculiar interaction with a certain talking limbless statue. Once the situation was handled, the Argo II hovered over Camp Jupiter, and everyone other than Coach Hedge warily got out of the ship, not quite sure what the Romans' reactions would be, even Jason who was a Roman himself.

When you reached the ground, your eyes searched the crowd for the familiar green eyes and black hair of your brother, and when you finally found him, you saw Annabeth rushing over to him. When she flipped him onto the ground, it brought a smile to your face. Their relationship was the most beautiful thing you'd seen in your life, and it made you so proud to see your brother happy.

With Jason's arm around your waist, you waited until Annabeth and Percy parted, before sprinting over to Percy and jumping into his arms. To say he was surprised was an understatement. You and Annabeth had been the only people he remembered when Hera wiped his memories, and seeing you after so long made him beyond happy.

His arms gripped you tightly as he whispered in your ear. "I can't even explain how happy I am to see you. How is mom?" He asks almost immediately.

"Mom is good, she's really good. So is Paul. But how are you?"

"I'm good, now that I've got two of my favorite girls with me again," he jokes, earning a smack on each arm from you and Annabeth.

It felt good to be able to joke around with your older brother again, almost too good to be true. Apparently it was too good to be true, because after an attack is fired from the Argo II, all of you have to rush up the ladder and get out of there as quick as possible. You grab Percy's hand tightly, his gripping yours impossibly tighter. Neither of you could stand to lose each other again.

Aboard the ship, tensions were high. Even if you weren't Percy's sister and hadn't been around him your whole life, you would still be able to tell how pissed off he was that this happened. When Leo confessed to him firing the attack, you and Annabeth had to hold Percy from pouncing on Leo. You understood where he was coming from, though. Imagine working this hard to make the Romans see that the Greeks weren't so bad, and then some guy you don't even know fires an attack on the camp and you're back at zero. You'd be pissed off too.

When dinner time rolled around, Percy had been much calmer. The atmosphere had lightened up, at least until both your brother and your boyfriend went to sit in the same seat at the head of the table. They stared intensely at each other until everyone decided that Annabeth should sit at the head of the table.

You thought the problem had ended there, but both of them tried to sit on the chair to your left. Percy looked at him with a strange expression, probably a mix of confusion and annoyance at this point.

"Dude, really? What's your problem?" Percy asks, crossing his arms.

"I just want to sit here, not a big deal," Jason replies.

Percy raises his eyebrow. "Well, I want to sit next to my sister, and there's only one chair open next to her."

You looked at Piper, who was sitting to your right, and she took the hint. She got up and moved to the other side of the table.

"Guys, please. Just sit down already, it's not a big deal," you say exasperatedly.

Percy eyes you and Jason skeptically, but takes the chair to your right anyway. He seemed to lighten up due to the fact that he was now sitting between his girlfriend and his sister.

Dinner was going fine, until Percy spots your hand intertwined with Jason's under the table.

"Soo, anything new in your life you want to tell me about?" He asks you, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Um, no. I mean other than Jason, Leo, and Piper showing up, not really."

"So, no new guys that like you? No new crushes?"

You finally understand what he's trying to do, and sigh loudly.

"Yes, Percy. Jason and I are dating, is there a point to this?"

He just grins in response and moves his gaze to Jason. "You better treat her right man, or I'll have to whoop you," he semi-jokes.

Jason raises his eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. You could whoop me if we were on a beach, maybe," he jokes back.

"Nah, I could take you any day of the week, beach or no beach. I'd whoop your ass with just my fists."

This makes everyone at the table laugh.

"Nah, but seriously man. I'll take care of her. I really like her, and I'd never even think about treating her wrong," Jason says seriously.

Percy smiles at him. "I'll hold you to that."

Jason brings your hand to his lips and gently kisses it, making everyone at the table fake gag.

"Oh shut up, you're all just jealous," you say, smiling the widest you had in a while.

You finally had your brother back, and he seemed to like your boyfriend.

a/n: y'all i am so sorry for not posting anything in almost a week lmfao i got my tooth pulled and i've been suffering all week

[wobblesthecowgirl]

I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter Two: Six Point Cabin

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Hello again! Chapter two is a lot longer and we are kinda getting into it. I know Arthur and reader hate each other but you can't rush enemies to lovers!

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Days had gone by and Y/n hadn’t eaten a proper meal. In fact, she wouldn’t have had anything if it wasn’t for Mary-Beth feeding both her and Kieran scraps of food when the other gang members weren’t looking. Y/n always made sure to thank her, repaying her kindness with respect. She doesn’t have to do that, but she’s got a good heart.

Arthur and Dutch had tried asking about Colm a few more times but without being fed, the two O’Driscoll’s were too tired to respond (that and Y/n was too suborn. She hated this gang as much as the other one). Today however, seemed much different.

It was sunny, a light breeze and the birds were chirping, it would’ve been a calming day if it wasn’t for the predicament. Arthur strode towards the two of them and stood in between the two trees. When she was tied up, the gang made sure Kieran and Y/n couldn’t reach one another, their feet being only a foot apart from each other.

“When is this going to end…” Kieran whined as Arthur got to them, not ready for another day of questioning and torture.

“You both got some speaking to do of your own, about that old gang of yours.” He folded his arms like he always did, which Y/n rolled her eyes at. Here we go again.

Kieran was standing again, whereas she couldn’t, her thigh slightly better but due to her condition, it was healing slower than it should. Kieran groaned, “I said I told you. I don’t know nothing.”

Arthur shook his head, the tiny rope on his hat swung with it, “That’s what I thought.”

Dutch came striding over, his voice cheerful and booming, causing the woman to jump.

“Hold your horses there! It seems the cat has got our friend’s tongue’s.” He stood with Arthur, with a bigger guy before continuing, “I was thinking Mr Williamson could have a word.”

Y/n eyed him carefully; she had been trying to get as much information on everyone, being sat doing nothing makes you people watch. She was sure this guy was called Bill. He had a creepy grin on his face and pointed at Kieran.

“We can start with you. You ready to talk, boy?”

“I told you mister, I told all of you. I don’t know nothing, ok?” He sighed, “Th-They ain’t no friends of mine. I just been ridin’ with them for a while.”

Bill interrupted him, his spit flying out his mouth, “Bullshit! You’re close with this O’Driscoll, and you told us you weren’t close with any of them! So how about you tell us the truth.” He turned to the gang’s leader, “Dutch, what do you want me to do?”

Y/n’s heart dropped. This interrogation session was different than the others, it was much more sinister.

“Hurt him. So the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on.” Dutch’s mouth was twisted into a sly smile, his voice dripping with ill intent.

“Who am I kidding? One of the O’Driscoll’s boys couldn’t open his mouth, but he’d tell a lie.” He got in Kieran’s face before turning to Bill, “Screw it. Let’s just have some fun,” He made a cutting motion with his fingers, “geld him.”

Bill cheered as Y/n pulled at her restraints, “No! You get away from him!” She screamed as Dutch laughed down at her.

“Maybe you’ll talk for him!”

“What’s he doing? Where’s he going?” Her friend panicked, watching Bill bring a pair of long tongs from the fire.

Arthur hadn’t said anything, only stood watching the scene unfold before him, waiting to see who would crack first.

“Oh, don’t worry. They’re only balls boy! Just gonna cause you trouble.” Dutch began to ramble about Rome but the two hostages weren’t listening, instead watching Bill cheerfully make his way over. Kieran’s trousers and pants were then pulled down, and Y/n made sure to look up, in attempts to save the poor boy’s dignity.

“No, no, no, no! You’re kidding right?” Kieran cried, trying to back away but the tree blocked him.

“You disgusting pigs!” Y/n snapped, still wriggling and kicking, her thigh screaming at her to stop.

“You sick bastards! What do you want from me!” Even Kieran was swearing now, fear causing him to sweat profusely.

“Well, you are going to talk. The only question is now, or after we get these little fellas off?” The three men were surrounding Kieran. The pair of tongs getting closer, yet he still wasn’t cracking.

“Ok! I’ll tell you!” Y/n shouted; she couldn’t sacrifice her friend getting hurt over a gang who didn’t even realise they were missing. All the men turned to her, the weapon getting a bit further away from him.

“Six point cabin.” She stated, and when they looked at her she sighed, “That’s where the O’Driscoll’s are. That’s where Colm is lying low.”

The men seemed satisfied, as Bill shouted at Kieran, “Why didn’t you tell us that first, boy?”

“I didn’t know the location!” He whimpered, still keeping an eye of Bill’s hand, and trying to cross his legs.

“But I know where that is! I can take you there. I don’t like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you. No offence.”

“Oh, none taken.” Dutch cackled. Arthur finally joined in on the conversation. He leant down to Kieran and said, “Ok then, partner. Why don’t you and your friend take a few of us up there. Right now.” He untied Kieran who quickly pulled his trousers up, and Arthur approached Y/n.

“I ain’t helping you!” She spat, her not shot leg kicking out in protest. She could hear him grumbling as he untied her, and when she refused to stand, he grabbed her bicep and forced her up. His grip was purposefully strong, but she couldn’t focus on that, instead, she focused on the fact that she couldn’t stand or walk properly. Being sat for days on top of her wound made her useless.

“I got this, Dutch. Should be fun.” He reassured his leader before turning his attention back to her, “Alright you, come on. Can you walk?”

“What does it look like?” She gritted her teeth, limping slowly to what she assumed was his horse after watching him ride to camp on it. She could feel him chuckling behind her, “Well at least I ain’t gotta worry about you running away.”

Another snide remark from this man and I’ll kill him on pure adrenaline and a pocketknife.

Kieran jogged over to the best of his ability to help her, but she held her hand up to stop him. She didn’t want to appear weaker than what she already did, and if the two kept acting close, the gang would use that against them like how they already did.

“Let’s hope you both ain’t trying to trick us, O’Driscolls.” Arthur warned.

“We ain’t no O’driscoll.” Kieran corrected which only caused the older man to snap back, “But you sure as shit was.” After that, he called for John and Bill to tag along, and Kieran gave them the directions.

“John, you take this little rattlesnake with you. Any nonsense, kill him.”

John nodded, pointing to his horse so Kieran could hop on.

“Don’t do anything rash.” Y/n called out to him as John sat on the front of his horse. Kieran nodded at her as if to say ‘same to you’.

“You’re with me, woman.” Arthur got on his horse, and looked down at her. She looked up and from this angle, she could see how his stubble was neatly kept and his moustache was slightly longer. His eyes were light and the were small scars dotted across his cheek.

I can’t wait to put a bullet through his head.

She grabbed the saddle but winced when she shifted her weight to her bad leg. With a grunt, Arthur extended his hand which only caused her to raise her chin at him.

“You can put your filthy hand away, I don’t need your help.”

“Well, it sure looks like you do. Stop being so stubborn, girl.”

“I hope you drop dead on this mission.” She spat, pulling herself up in an awkward manner, seating behind him with as much distance as she could get. Why does he have to have the biggest horse known to mankind?

“Are they taking us to Colm?” John asked as the three horses galloped out the camp and through the trees that gave comforting shade to the summer’s sun.

“Look, I-I-I’ll give you more directions when we’re close, but if I know where we are, it’s up past Valentine.” Kieran strutted as John moved further up for the rest of them to follow. Y/n tuned out the men the entire ride there, all she heard was talk about throwing knives, O’Driscolls, and horse shit. Instead, she watched the dust kick up from the hooves of the horses, the leaves blowing in the wind, and the occasional people passing by.

Arthur asked Bill if he still had the tongs, to which he replied with the fact he had a knife.

“Keep that in mind, young fella.” He yelled at Kieran, “Right in the forefront of it.”

“What about the woman?” Bill asked; Y/n saw him shrug.

“I’ll just shoot her other leg. I doubt she’ll get far.” His voice found humour in this, and she could only grit her teeth at how helpless she was. She was stronger than this, much stronger, and these idiots didn’t even know it.

“It’s passed these hills. Better get there before I get your gun.” She threatened and couldn’t help her smirk as she saw him instinctively reach for his holster. They stopped their horses at the clearing and planned to reach the cabin from foot. Arthur got off first and looked at her, wondering if she was going to ask for help. Of course she didn’t. Instead, she swung her leg over and jumped down, falling to her knees from the sudden impact. She kept her pained cries inside, only earning a small grunt. Kieran made his way over and helped her back on her feet, which this time she didn’t push him away. When she was steady, Kieran began to walk towards the cabin’s location.

“There’ll be a bunch of fellers hiding out there too.” Kieran stated as the group were crouched behind a log, peering into the woods. A couple of men were further than the rest, taking a toilet break against a tree.

“Are these fellas armed?” Arthur asked.

“Armed. Drunk. Wary of strangers.” Kieran nodded.

“And Colm O’Driscoll?”

“Most likely.” Y/n intervened, “Probably passed out sleeping soundly. After a day of bossing people to their deaths.”

The three O’Driscoll’s continued to talk to one another as Dutch's group tried to conduct a plan. The O’Driscoll’s got close, so John grabbed Kieran and covered his mouth with a gun to his head. Arthur did the same. His giant, calloused hands roughly gripped Y/n face to silence her, the other hand on her shoulder. She could feel his breath on her ear, but she didn’t move a muscle. Not because she was scared, but because doing so would be pointless. If she screamed, either John would shoot her, or her former gang mates would.

“I’m gonna let go of you now, if you so much as move an inch, I’m shooting you in the head this time.” He whispered in her ear, as she stifled a grunt, her eyebrows knitted together. He slowly let go, making sure she didn’t move, and began making his way over to the enemy with his throwing knife, stabbing all three with Bill. John turned to Kieran and Y/n, his eyes narrowed.

“I need to help them. You two stay here, if you try to escape we will hunt you down. Understood?” Kieran nodded while she only rolled her eyes; she was getting tired of all the empty threats. They watched as John descended down the hill.

“We can’t keep doing this, man.” She spoke up after a quick breather, her leg aching. He only hummed in response, too busy trying to get a better look of what was going on. As she scoped the scene, a familiar shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

“Is that..” It was. It was a sniper rifle. It was the first time she had a genuine smile. Oh, what a beautiful sight, a beautiful sight that is now mine.

She hopped down the hill, carefully as to not alert either gang, and picked up the gun. Its cold metal only warmed her heart, as she looked through the scope and nodded her head; it wasn’t the best, but it’d do. She heard her friend scramble after her, not wanting to be left alone.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He scolded, the both of them a bit startled at the sudden loud bangs of guns at the cabin.

“What do you think? I’m going to scope that big grunt and get us the hell out of here. We can wait till they kill all the O’Driscolls, then I aim from a distance an-“

“No! Being alone is too risky! We would get hunted down! Our best bet is to warm up to the Van Der Linde gang and-“

It was her turn to interrupt him, she looked like she had been shot a second time, “What? Are you insane! Have you lost your mind?”

“I’m trying not to lose my head!” He snapped back, much to her surprise. He rubbed his eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just… hear me out ok?”

“They will kill us after today you know? We gave them what they needed, Bang. Bye bye us.”

A twig snapped, the two of them now on high alert. An old O’Driscoll had a gun pointed at Kieran, but Y/n quickly head shot him within milliseconds. He thanked her, a hand to his chest.

“Come on, we are sitting ducks here.” She began to limp to the cabin, the gunshots had died down significantly. When they got there, the place was littered with dead bodies.

She made her way to the wooden shed and saw the rest of them there. Arthur had his back turned; it would be so easy. She aimed her rifle at him, just as he got knocked down by a frenzied O’Driscoll with a gun pointing down at him. Saves me a job, she first thought, but Kieran’s previous words nagged her. Nagged and nagged, before she huffed in annoyance. Damn you, horse boy.

She shot the man on top of Arthur between his brows, he went limp, and Arthur pushed the now dead body off of him; blood had splattered on his coat and face. He laid there for a moment, not even acknowledging her, before getting up and peering his head inside the cabin and was suddenly filled with rage. He stormed towards her, his face red.

“You set us up! Come here!” He was towering over her now, their anger mutual.

“No she didn’t!” Kieran tried to defuse the situation which only made Arthur angrier.

“You both did, Colm O’Driscoll ain’t here!”

“If I wanted to set you up, I would’ve used this very rifle in my hand to shoot you dead!” She seethed, raising the rifle as proof she did just in fact save his life.

“She has a good point, Arthur.” Bill butted in, sort of on her side. Arthur paused for a moment, seemingly taking in the situation before shooing her away and saying, “Alright then, go on, get out of here.”

“Eh?” Kieran puzzled, stepping closer to Y/n who only furrowed her brows at him. A trap? Get our back turned to shoot us?

“I’m letting you run away, now go on. Get out of here.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, come on Kieran.” She was about to walk off, or hobble away, when he grabbed her wrist.

“That’s as good as killing us. Out there, without you, Colm O’Driscoll’s gonna lose his mind about this.”

She groaned, sick of this argument, and Arthur didn’t seem too pleased either, only asking, “So?”

“So, we’re one of you now.” He stated, earning a scoff from Y/n.

“Oh please.”

He shot her a warning glance and for once she obeyed. Arthur rubbed his eyes before murmuring, “Give me a break.” He looked at them both, thinking hard about his next decision.

“Alright then. But I’m warning you both…”

“We get it!” Y/n groaned, throwing the rifle on the ground to his feet so he didn’t keep going on.

“You fellas get to camp, quick. Hey Bill, you tell Dutch, old Kieran and little Y/n ain’t worth killing. Just yet.” He stated, already making his way inside the cabin to find the money stashed in the chimney.

Y/n got on John’s horse this time with said man, deciding the man with the giant scar on his face was still better than Bill, who only this morning was excited to burn a man’s balls off.

“Don’t think for second you’re one of us.” John barked as they began their journey back to camp.

“Trust me. I’ll never have the desire to be accepted by any of you.” She scoffed, all of them going silent as the sun began to set, and the cold air giving her goosebumps.

[shattered-world]

They utterly despised each other in real life. And they're Irish twins, not actual twins.

They sure did! I did a bunch of reading after I watched the movie so you, my dear anon, are about to get a ramble of questionable organization that you did not ask for.

First off, yep. Irish twins; siblings born within 12 months of each other (neat term, I didn't know that). Caracalla was born in April 4th 188 AD; Geta was born a year later on March 7th 189 AD, 11 months later. Fun little fact!

Second, I don't know if it would be possible to overstate how much they hated each other. Like, wow. As far as I can tell, this likely partially stemmed from how their father dealt with their succession (although I am by no means knowledgeable on the subject, so take this with a grain of salt if you don't already know this lmao). Emperor Severus gave Caracalla the title of Augustus or co-emperor when he was 10, but Geta had to wait more than a decade longer even though he was only a year younger. I'm sure there was other stuff too, but I can't imagine he was pleased about having to wait— or that Caracalla was very happy with suddenly having to share power he'd had for 11 years.

They did almost reach a compromise of dividing the empire in two and each ruling half, but for a reason I don't understand their mother convinced them not to. Who knows, maybe Caracalla wouldn't have murdered Geta if they'd done that (I doubt it). They also split the palace between them and lived in constant terror of being assassinated, and for good reason given that Caracalla tried and failed to kill his brother, organized a peace meeting, and then had Geta killed in his mothers arms. Insane.

Also when their father died neither of them were in rome so they had to journey back and on the journey they never once stayed at the same place or shared a meal. And they only ever met in their mother's presence. And Caracalla declared a damnatio memoriae, attempting to erase his brother from history (he did a pretty good job too). And a lot of other things that are not relevant to this ask!

Side fun fact; Caracalla is a nickname! He was originally named Lucius Septimius Bassianus and then renamed Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. The nickname comes from a tunic he wore.

I can't imagine what the two would think of this fandom lmfao. Maybe they'd finally be in agreement re: killing us all. Thankfully, they've been dead for 1800 years and I don't think they care. Also thankfully, while the historical guys fucking hated each other and weren't actually twins, the ones I care about are fictional. Fictional, twins, very pretty (seriously their designs oh my god), and with a fascinating relationship.

Also, I'm choosing to take this ask in good faith, but if sending it to me was some sort of attempt to convince me to stop shipping them... sorry! Maybe direct your attention to things you enjoy instead of spending your time worrying about what others do; i guarantee your life will be more enjoyable. But if you did send it just to tell me some cool facts, I'd love to keep talking about them!

[latin5mamii]

Desire -Jannik Sinner

|Warnings: Smut, +18

|Summary: A fancy night out with your boyfriend goes as well as you planned it.

You two had a very special night: dinner in a fancy restaurant in Rome talking about life,lots of laughs and most importantly,a lot of tension between you two.

You didn’t see yourselves for a lot of time, I mean,his tournaments,your job, all of this made you stay away from each other,but now,the important thing is that you are together.

Even if he was trying to be a gentleman,like always, in his eyes there was a scent of desire,he was desiring you,every inch of your body.You could feel it,and that turned you on like crazy.

You desired him too,of course, you always did, no matter where you are, and right now,the only thing that you wanted to do was to get out of there and go to any hotel room.

“Vuoi andare?”

(You wanna go?)

“Dove?” 

(Where?)

You say, pretending not to know what he was trying to say.

“Lo sai dove, amore”

(You know where, baby)

You feel wetter and wetter every time his eyes meet yours in a desperate way, hoping to reach somewhere where you can finally feel him.

As soon as you step into his car,you start to kiss with hunger, you missed him so much and he knows it.

Every time he squeezes your uncovered thighs,you let out a moan and a proud smile appears on his face.

This is different from the other times,it’s like you’ll never see each other again,like a goodbye,but you know this won’t happen.

"Perché" non fai la brava e apri quelle gambe per me,si?”

(Why don’t you be a good girl and open these legs for me, yes?)

You moan a yes, thank God there’s no one here.

He caresses your intimate parts,teasing you,whispering nasty things to your ear

“Dio, sei così bella quando fai così”

(God, you’re so beautiful when you act like this)

He moves your wet panties to the side and starts playing with your clit.

You’re wetter than ever and you almost feel ashamed by it.

“Sei così bagnata e il fatto che tu lo sia a causa mia mi fa eccitare piu’ di sempre”

(You’re so wet and the fact that you are like this because of me, makes me hornier than ever)

Your head is in a complete state of ecstasy, and you can now only feel the desire of him.

His fingers start to move inside you, you squeeze his arm to contain yourself.Everyone can see you but you don’t care.He doesn’t care.You’re having fun and it has only just started.

Suddenly he stops, you look in his eyes begging to continue.

He just gives you a mischievous smile,he’s always been gentle, but right now, he wants you to suffer a bit.

The ride to the hotel is fully silent,but if eyes could talk you would probably melt right now.

Your hands almost tremble,impatient to touch him and to be touched.

But as soon as you get in the elevator he picks you up, almost throwing you against the wall.

You feel his member harder and harder,if he could,he would fuck the shit out of you right now.

He kisses you with passion,he surely didn’t forget what he has to do to you tonight.

As the elevator arrives at your floor,he lets you go and brings you to his room.

“Ti scoperei davanti a questa porta, lo sai?” 

(I would fuck you right in front of this door,do you know that?)

He says while unlocking the door.His other hand searches for your chin,which raises so that you can look him right in the eyes.

“Ho bisogno di te”

(I need you)

You smile because you know that you drive him crazy with this kind of dirty talk.

“Hai bisogno di me?Per cosa?” 

(You need me? And for what?)

He’s playing your same game, and he looks hot doing it.

“Lo sai”

(You know what)

“Dimmelo,amore”

(Say it to me,love)

 "Scopami. Cosi ti va bene o vuoi che ti supplichi?”

(Fuck me. Is it okay or do I have to beg you?)

To these words,if he resisted you for a long time,He can’t no more.

He’s fucking hard and you’rer soaking wet.Is there a better combo than this one?

You just want him,no more teasing, you just want to have him inside of you and he can't wait to feel you.

He sits on the bed,commanding you to sit on his lap,and while you two kiss,you can’t wait to move your hips,rubbing on his cock. A slight moan comes out from his mouth,as he starts undressing you from your beautiful and sexiest black mini dress.You don’t even have your bra on,so he starts massaging your tits.

You’re undressing him,finally arriving at his boxers,which you don’t even wait to remove.

Suddenly he rips your panties off and he thrusts inside,you wouldn’t expect this from him, but honestly,who cares about being gentle anymore?

“Guardami” 

(Look at me)

He says, staring at you with his beautiful eyes.You don’t even have the strength of actually looking in them.

“Ti prego,piu’ forte” you beg.

(Please,harder)

Soft groans leave his mouth.He’s never been a really noisy guy in bed,and so were you,before meeting him.So you now moan shamelessly, thank him.

“Sto per venire,ti prego”

(I’m cumming, please)

You whimper as your fingers thread through his curls.

He’s leaving marks on your skin,marks that you would have to cover the following day, of course.

He gives you some last thrusts before both he and you come. You can feel his liquid coming down from your private parts. You notice his sweaty body and exhausted face.

You lower your head to kiss him and he rests his head on your chest, holding you in his arms, he definitely has no intention of letting you go.

“Ti amo” He says,and you can feel him smile.

“Ti amo anche io”

He then picks up his phone and notices a few messages from his coach, who had actually predicted what was going to happen that night:

“Please don’t stress too much and don’t stay up too late, even if you’re with your girlfriend!”

You can’t help but laugh at his message.

“Immagino di non aver seguito al meglio i suoi consigli”

(I guess i didn’t follow his advices to the best)

[kitkats-and-kittens]

Spoilers for Pjo.

You know I feel like people should acknowledge how fucked up camp halfblood is more often.

Like everyone always makes fun of New Rome for being uptight and sticklers for the rules, but low-key living at camp halfblood sucks.

The barrier wasn’t even up for a decade before it was broken and before that literal children were sent out to fight monsters despite being promised safety (Ik Talias protection made it slightly better, but still) and during sea of monsters they are once again required to fight as literal kids!

Unlike New Rome there’s no university for the Demigods to go to. Year rounders get tutored by Chiron (presumably) and then what? They have no actual credentials or any records of them graduating from school. Since no one knows about Camp they technically don’t have an address either which sucks if your parents are dead or don’t want you.

We see hardly any adult demigods around camp and I don’t know if they choose to leave or not, but either way they are set up for failure. Chiron tells Percy about the success stories, the people who go on to be Olympic athletes or celebrities due to their half godly nature, but it’s more than likely those are far outweighed by the failures.

Those who died hungry on the streets with no way to get a job and no home to return to. Those who were torn down by monsters without the protection of the camp. Even those who made it constant live with the terror that one day they’ll be found and killed. And what if those people have family’s? Will the monsters hunt them too? And what happens when they get too old to fight?

That’s not even mentioning the trauma they’ll be stuck with their entire lives.

No wonder so many end up joining the Emperors in ToA.

And you know what. Chiron need to take some damn accountability for being a shit mentor. He fucked off for most of the books but even when he talks to Percy about how much he cares he does quite literally nothing about Luke. How did a child manage to manipulate an immortal centaur for years without anyone catching on?

And he doesn’t improve after the war either. Will is made Head of Apollo Cabin at 13. He has two younger siblings and is essentially expected to act as their parent despite still being a child himself. Not to mention he’s the camps head doctor. He’s performed surgery! Which is exhausting and long and something no child should be dealing with. Especially since we know Chiron must have some healing abilities since he literally raised Asclepius.

Will is not paid either. None of them are. He doesn’t get a salary, so free child labour (cough cough exploitation) and after he leaves camp he’ll have no way to prove his medical training to anyone and no way to pay for medical school or even to get in without the appropriate documents.

I don’t like to rant about books but Rick Riordan did not go dark enough with this series and I will say this about his books until the day I die. The light comedic writing style means fucked up shit like this simply slips through the cracks.

There’s still so much I haven’t touched on.

What about the Hephaestus cabin and their curse. How did Chiron just stand by and watch as these kids continually blew themselves up?

Fighting in two wars?

The Romans are a little more fucked up there because we know there are adults who can fight and are simply choosing to send children in their place.

Octavian being quite literally brainwashed into dying for his land.

Jason’s entire backstory.

The fact that most demigod children probably die before ever reaching camp is very much not touched on and it should be.

The fact that camp halfblood is hidden with the mist means that no one knows where the year rounders are. Which is weird when you think a lot of the reason people become year rounders is too many monster attacks or horrible home lives which further implies out in the real world there are genuine missing posters for these kids. Some might even be considered legally dead so what happens when they rock up in their early 20’s attempting to rejoin society?

In conclusion Camp Halfblood is fucked and Chiron is not some innocent fun loving centaur dude. His lack of action had a very big and very real impact on these kids.

[anthurak]

The Surprising Similarities of Little Red and Odin

So this was originally going to be another ‘how Ruby could be an Odin allusion’ post, but in the process of brainstorming, I ended up landing on what feels like a more fun broader topic:

Namely the very interesting similarities in the stories of Little Red Riding Hood and Odin, and the fun potential overlap these two folkloric figures could have when writing fantasy stories.

First off, there are a lot of surprising similarities between the two.

Little Red Riding Hood is a girl known for wearing a hooded cloak (a ‘riding hood’) who wanders through the woods to visit her grandmother, and is menaced and potentially eaten by a monstrous wolf.

And funny enough, basically all of these traits can be found in Odin in one way or another:

For one, Odin has a well-known penchant for wandering Midgard in disguise, as a mysterious hooded figure. Indeed, a hooded cloak is one of Odin’s most well-known visual traits. And just like Little Red, Odin is ALSO menaced by a monstrous wolf in the form of Fenrir, who likewise devours Odin during Ragnarok.

Even Red Riding Hood being a girl has some surprising overlap.

See, we often think of Odin as being this wise, old bearded patriarch of the norse gods, but in reality a lot of that image is the result of more modern depictions attaching elements of Zeus and the christian God to Odin, who doesn’t have nearly as much of those elements as many modern depictions would have you believe. For example, Odin is way more of a loner and trickster archetype who’s often off questing for knowledge.

Fun fact actually; basically our only pre-christian written source we have on Norse mythology comes to us courtesy of the Romans and the contact they had with the Scandinavians via trade routes. Specifically one General Tacitus, who wrote an ethnography in about 98 CE of the Germanic peoples Rome was trading with, which includes some descriptions of the gods they worshiped, which is again pretty much our earliest written source on the Norse pantheon.

Now the thing to remember here is that in these accounts, the Norse gods are referred to as various Roman gods. This was a thing the Romans did with basically every other culture they encountered as a means of cultural assimilation; conflating that cultures’ gods with whichever of their own gods the Romans thought were similar enough, basically saying ‘your gods are our gods’. For example, the accounts seems to refer to Tyr as Mars (aka Ares), likely due to both being war gods, and Thor as Hercules, probably due to both being super strong and giant slayers.

What’s interesting is that the account seem to refer to Odin, the leader of the pantheon, not as Jupiter/Zeus, but rather as Mercury, aka HERMES. A tricksy traveler who among other things, shepherds the dead to the afterlife. I mean if that doesn’t tell you that comparing Odin to Zeus is pretty far off the mark, I don’t know what does.

So with that tangent out of the way, most interestingly for the purposes of this discussion, Odin has a surprising number of feminine traits. Odin seeks and takes the council of women (in particular the Nornir, from whom he learns the prophecies of Ragnarok), something noted to set him apart from the other male gods. And he even learns and practices the art of witchcraft, something practiced specifically by women in Norse mythology. There is at least one instance of Odin even being specifically called a witch, or at least a ‘male witch’, again a specifically feminine term. Plus there’s the fact that Odin is often noted as not being as much of burly fighter like most of the Norse gods, and is instead much more of a crafty schemer.

So taken all together, I think we can really start to see the similarities.

In fact, I think it’s not so hard to believe that the original folktale of Little Red Riding Hood could have some folkloric connection to Odin. As in, if we followed the tellings and retellings of Little Red Riding Hood back through the generations far enough, we might arrive at, among other places, people telling stories of Odin and Fenrir.

BUT, this post is not about making conspiracy theories about folklore, mythology and European oral history.

It’s about pitching fun and interesting ideas about the potential of blending together Odin and Little Red Riding Hood.

Obviously I’ve already talked a fair bit about the fun allusions and parallels Ruby Rose has and could have to Odin; cool and mysterious hooded cloak, use of a spear-like weapon, a character journey with a major emphasis on a pursuit of knowledge and answers, defiant refusal to accept any kind of ‘fate’ of the world (see her contrast with Oz), death symbolism, and of course the possibility of getting a sick eye-patch in the future.

But even outside of RWBY, I think there’s so much fun potential for more general fantasy stories with twists on fairy tales:

I mean everyone’s always re-imagining Little Red as some huntress or ranger with an affinity for or some other connection to wolves.

But just picture a take on Little Red Riding Hood who, in addition to the red hood, penchant for wandering the woods and a complicated relationship with canines, also happens to be a nerdy, goth trans girl who practices witchcraft and has a sick eyepatch and a pair of pet ravens and uses a walking stick that turns into a badass magic spear and she’s also a crafty schemer and a bit of troll and also might sometimes be plotting a war crime or two.

I mean if you ask me that sounds pretty sick. :D

And finally, if you happen to the kind of LOTR fan who remembers that Odin was one of the main inspirations for Gandalf, then yes this means there IS in fact at least a bit of mythological precedent for Big Naturals Gandalf XD

[sillygoblinantics]

Watched ant’s werewolf video.

(And the transcript)

I applaud the history and mythology section but there’s never mention of the other werewolves!

And to that

I have to grab the sources, More specifically this!

Welcome to my silly hyperfixation sperg!

I love me some mythology and history of these fantastical creatures. I do enjoy the movie approach and filmography of the werewolf history. (Even though you skipped shapeshifters from ❤️💀🤖) but I wanted to add to the cryptozoological side of it even if I’m a bit amateurish of the study.

Let’s dive in

Though early origins to the term of lycanthropy dating back to Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece via Latin language, humans that transform into dog like hybrids is a universal concept that can be found all over the world from Europe to South Asia!

As was our human way to explain what wasn’t yet known scientifically of modern times, for the civilizations who came before us, strangeness in people from neurological to physical abnormalities were thought to be otherworldly!

A rare mutation but oldest documented instance is when the hair on the body grow longer than what is “normal” leading to top to bottom fully covered in hair people: Hypertrichosis. Which is where the image of transformation came from or at least hypothesized to have been the origins of. Then there’s the actual clinically diagnosis of “clinical lycanthropy” which is when someone who has this believes they are in fact a werewolf.

So with the fun science out of the way! Allow me to list off every lycanthrope from around the world!

In alphabetical order of each name:

Airitech

Folklore of the Goidelic Celts.

Alp

Originating in Germany

Anjing Ajak

Indonesia

Azeman

Suriname folklore

Bal-bal

Philippines

Beast of Gevaudin

(Werehyena) France

Budas

Ancient Abyssinia

Buxenwolf

German folklore

Enkidu

Gilgamesh’s “best friend”

Headless mule

Iberian folklore - Portugal and Spain

Karkanxhol

Kolivilor

Albanian mythology

Kornwolf

Estonia, France, Germany, Hungary, Latvia, Poland and Russia

Lobis-Homem

Ancient Portuguese folklore

Lobishomen

(Female vampire witch werewolf) Brazil

Lobison

Argentina

Loup Garou

French origin and Caribbean island folklore

Luison

Paraguayan folklore

Lupo Mannaro

Italian and ancient Roman folklore

Marrock (Marrok the good knight)

Arthurian folklore

Zmag Ognjeni Vuk

Bosnian folklore (fire breathing werewolf)

I need a minute to catch my breath!

Ok!

As you can tell there’s quite a lot but I feel the need to also mention a morally good lycanthrope

Hailing from the Shetland isles of Scotland: the Wulver

They’d watch over flocks and tend to chores and leave behind fish on the windowsills of homes once they’re done helping. It’s said they’d only act in violence if provoked but other than that they were mostly seen as good!

So that’s my lil sperging about werewolf mythology! Good video Anthony!

I’m shook that no one mentioned the werewolves from the Halloween anthology film “Trick or Treat” or “the wolf among us” which was about the big bad wolf being a detective in a modern setting with fairytales and murder! Or the other red riding hood movie! “Red Riding Hood” (2011); with really good color story of mostly black and white scenery and striking red from our leading lady!

Ohmygod I nearly forgot that Pokémon even has a werewolf pokemon!

But ye I don’t have any better way to end this… other than a silly animation >:3c

[maudie-duan]

Series Summary: In a crowd full of adoring fans, Harry can’t seem to take his eyes off the girl standing front row, who won’t look up from her phone—I mean, why the hell come to a One Direction concert, have one of the best spots in the house, and not look at him at least once??? What happens when Harry takes it upon himself to get Romee’s attention? Will he be “that” asshole, or is he as charming as he thinks?

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Yay! I finally had time to write! enjoy!!

Tag List: @howling-wolf97 @simplebuteffectivex @sassamanda77

Warning: Mature, Eventual Smut, Strong Language, Angst.

To say I lost it at the concert was an understatement—Not only did I break up with my boyfriend through text. My phone was stolen by that guy Harry—please forgive me, but I still don’t know his last name. All I know is that he went out of his way to get my phone and then had the audacity to read my texts—what the fuck!

Sure, I guess—cool—have a little fun, but don’t you think it would have been more entertaining if it were at the expense of someone else, you know, someone that might have actually enjoyed it—got off on the fact that the hottest member of the band was singling them out, but fuck, I was on the verge of a breakdown, and the second they started singing. I lost it!

And why did he have to be so fucking cute sitting there, singing such heart-wrenching lines, with that sexy rasp cutting me to my core—and Clara—Clara knew I was going to freak once I had the opportunity to finally unload—and god the way the fans were going crazy, tugging and swaying me in every which direction, losing their minds as if I were the “chosen one.” 

I didn’t want the attention or the praise; I just wanted to get the hell out of there—I just wanted my phone back.

Why would he even want my phone? Surely, he had a lot more going on than a girl like 

me from Oklahoma. The only interesting thing about me is that I like to read and enjoy music, but clearly, not his kind of music, or at least my pride won’t let me enjoy anything coming from his mouth because I’m so fucking mad.

I think it was voodoo or some kind of magic because the second we locked eyes. I swear I could feel my brain oozing, flipping through every emotion running through my mind like a picture book, this uncontrollable urge flooding my system.

The chemicals in my brain fucking altering as he walked over, his microphone pressed to his perfect mouth; I thought, “Wow…those pictures we crept last night don’t even touch the surface.” and suddenly I’m a fan girl getting sucked in by the charm—and when he crouched down in front of me, hair falling in his face, he knew it—Harry knew how hot he was, running a hand through his hair, a cunning grin turned up at the corner of his mouth—he was smug with the effortless act of it all, waving the security guard over, the man filling the hopeless space between us. He whispered something in the man’s ear, eyes never leaving mine, and I’m telling you I was physically shaking. It was like a sensory overload of the greatest proportions. I could feel the hundreds of eyes beating down my back, everyone craning their necks to get a better look—at him—at me.

With ease, Harry hands the man my phone, sending me a wink as he stretches to his feet—so tall, dammit—towering in front of me on the stage. His playful smile says it all, and when the man hands me the phone, I force myself to look away, shoving it in the purse slung across my body—At that moment, I don’t trust anyone. I didn’t know what the fans were capable of, but I’m telling you, I genuinely felt fear when they were bumping into me, trying to get his attention—that’s another thing; he should know better than to put someone in danger like that—what an asshole.

Okay—and I’m back at mad—and he is staring at me, and it feels more confusing than me sending my boyfriend a breakup text—ex-boyfriend—because at least his intentions were clear—was this just for entertainment’s sake? All the phones recording me now make me think this is just a game, like maybe he does this often—and now I can feel the heat crawling, a slow burn rising to my face. 

And god, what does my face look like right now? Is my makeup everywhere? “I’m sorry—” he says, “Please, don’t hate me…” and his British accent has me swooning again, his hand running through his hair—it’s unfair—like being in this boy band has blessed him with the gift of persuasion—he’s mastered it I’ll give him that, and as my eyes roam his body I’m taking in more details—details that make me want to leap this fucking barrier and explore the crazy thoughts circling my mind right now as my eyes travel down his body…

Fuck!—he catches me staring, shooting me a knowing grin that squeezes my inside with a curious wonder—almost primal—when I glimpse a peek of a tattoo lining his waist. I pull Clara into me, leaning close to her ear, and all I can say is, “Holy fuck—”

So—yes, there was attraction, I’ll give him that too, but fuck, why did it have to be tonight of all nights—because now I can feel my phone vibrating in my purse, and I know who it is, and now it’s taking me out of the moment and into a mournful despair that I don’t think I could shake right now, no matter how cute the boy in front of me is—and yes—I know, for some this would be a one and a lifetime chance, but fuck Harry for putting me in this situation and fuck Tyler for even existing because I am so angry at him right now. 

Here, I was feeling every range of emotion trying to be present, and then the boys announced that this was their last song. Do you want to know what I did? I cried because what the hell was my life right now? I was miserable at best; I was lost in a crowd of people emanating every sense of happiness and joy— but when their sadness filled the venue, we all felt it. Their tears of grief became my tears of grief. The gloom they felt when the boys sang their last line made me numb, and so I didn’t even chance a second glance at Harry when I walked away from that stage.

I didn’t say a word the whole trek through the venue, ignoring girls who wanted to take a picture because—they couldn’t believe Harry stole my phone—Clara became my other half, held my hand, leading our way through the crowd. At some point, I must have genuinely dissociated because somehow, we were at Clara’s apartment, crossing the threshold of the doorway like we had just run a marathon.

Without thought, I walked to her couch and slumped down into the cushions, becoming the “sloth of a human” I was lurching toward with every passing second. I kicked my boot off, swinging my legs up onto the couch, and fell back into the pillows, feeling a ripple of announce when the strap of my purse started choking me, and I leaned forward enough to sling it over my head, trashing it to the floor with a loud thud. 

“Is it safe to talk yet?” Clara asks, toeing her shoes off and kicking them toward mine.

“I never said it wasn’t—” I tell her, my head drifting toward her as she sits in front of the couch next to me.

She purses her lip, her eyes shifting to the ground like “Yeah right,” and shakes her head, “I’m sorry I gave your phone away—”

“It’s fine—” I force.

“No…seriously—I was just so caught up in the moment, and you know how I get…”

“Clara—it’s fine really…it’s over now…”

She laughs, pushing my shoulder, “But can we talk about how crazy that was?” 

“I—I don’t know…” I mutter, crossing an arm over my eyes before Clara can catch sight of the tears welling because, of course, now I’m crying—again.

Clara clicks her tongue, trying to pry my arm from my face, but it only makes me cry harder, “I broke up with Ty—” I confess, pushing the words through heaving breaths of guilt—shame—I don’t know. How can one be reeling from a breakup and on some kind of high, all because some cute boy wanted to flirt with me—wait, was he flirting? The thought dries my tears fast—because fuck Tyler— A fucking singer from a famous boy band just hit on me, and I’m crying over spilled milk that was way past its expiration date. 

“Clara…?” I pull my arm away from my face, wiping at the tears still spilling at the corner of my eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if I think you made the right decision?” she asks, and my gaze flicks to her face, worry creasing her brow, and I think I already know what she’s going to say.

“Because I’ve always hated him—” she clarifies, and I know this. She’s been begging me for years to end it with him, “I think you can do better—”

“Fuck—Romee…Harry Styles was hitting on you tonight, dude—like hitting on—you!”

“Was he hitting on me?” I question, just for confirmation, because yeah, was that all even real? 

She laughs out, grabbing my arm, jerking it back and forth until my whole body is moving with the motion, “Okay—”

“Okay—so what—? it’s not like anything is going to come from it…” I tell her. 

“I mean, that was a one and a lifetime chance—you could have worked that in so many ways…I mean—” she says, shaking her head like it’s the end of the world, like, “Man, you really fucked this one…”

The thought makes my stomach twist as I try to brush off her words, but deep down, I know she’s right, “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now—can I?” 

Clara sits up, eyes widening like a light bulb flicking on, “What—?” I ask, a nervous sheen of sweat already marking my palms—it’s truly terrifying when she gets this way. She’s so much more outgoing. She loves this kind of stuff—In fact, this is exactly her vibe, so why isn’t this happening to her?

“I think you should slide into his DM…” She says without a single conviction, like that’s not the craziest idea ever. 

“Clara…slide into his DM’s?” I ask, arching a brow.

“And say what?” 

“I don’t know anything…like “Hey, you stole my phone…” is a start…it could be anything—”

“He’s like famous—famous, Clara…yeah, right?”

“Oh my god, Romee, can you like just for one time in your life—live?” she spits, all playfulness gone. Her words hit me like a ton of bricks because was that not just what Tyler was asking?

I shake my head, casting my eye to the floor, shame heating my body, and all I can picture is Tyler already fucking some other girl. “All I’m trying to say is that—I’m sure there are hundreds of girls pouring into his DM’s right now trying to claim that line…”

When I look back at Clara, remorse stings her features. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “That wasn’t fair…”

“It’s fine—maybe there’s just a little bit of truth there…” I say, pinching my thumb and index fingers together. 

“But I think you’re right…I don’t know what our in would be…” Clara agrees.

“Oh—maybe I can get my dad to buy us more tickets—?”

“I don’t know Clara…I can’t imagine that those tickets were cheap…” I tell her.

“No—you’re right…and I still need him to pay my rent. I’m not ready to get a job,” Clara said so seriously, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” she asks, with a slow-spreading smile.

“You lucky bitch—that’s all…” I say

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes, “And now you don’t have an excuse not to move here…I have an extra room, dammit! My dad is already paying the rent.”

“I know—” Clara looks down at my purse then. My phone buzzing through my bag makes a loud zipping sound against the wood floor, drawing her out of the conversation. 

I clear my throat, “I already know who it is—don’t answer it!”

And being Clara, she reaches for my bag, swiping it from my reach before I can react—damn—this is the second time tonight. Clearly, I have not learned my lesson.

“Clara—please, dude…”

“No—just let me give him a piece of my mind for once…I’ve been so good…like this whole time, and how many years has it been…four? “

“You owe me this—” she tells me as she types in my passcode. The screen flashes in front of her face, but she has a weird look, a reaction that isn’t matching up.

“Who is this random number calling you?” she asks, and I sit up, trying to glimpse the number, but she’s answering the call before I even have the chance.

“Hello—?” she says, raising a brow. There’s a moment of silence before she perks up, eyes going wide. 

“What?” I whispered, attempting to get her attention. I stare at her, trying to gather context clues, but she’s gone mute, eyes bulging with excitement, and out of nowhere, she squeals and tosses the phone on the couch, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

“What the fuck, Clara—?” I hiss, reaching for my phone. Whoever it is is still on the line, the seconds counting up on the screen, and when I bring the phone to my ear, she squeals again—louder this time—and I pace to the guest bedroom, lazily closing the door behind me. 

“Hello?” I say into the phone, already skeptical of the caller. Why would Clara react that way? 

“Hi—it’s Harry—please don’t scream into the phone again…” he says, his British drawl filling the line.

“O—kay—hold on one sec…” I tell him, bounding to the door, and I don’t know why but I’m holding the phone out like it’s the plague, but inwardly, I’m freaking the fuck out—becuase holy shit how is this happening? And then I realize he’s waiting. So I bring the phone to my ear, drawing in a slow breath through my nose.

“Harry—” I say, peeking my head around the door frame—Clara is in full panic mode, pacing back and forth like she is waiting to hear some sort of verdict. When she catches sight of me, she raises her arms in question.

“Still—here…” he says, and I think he’s yawning, his words stretching with an exhale. 

“That was my friend that answered the phone…sorry about that—”

“Wait—how did you get my number?”

“What do you mean?” he laughs.

“I mean—” I start, pulling the phone away from my ear to check the time—it’s almost 1 a.m.—and I’m thinking what the actual fuck could he want. 

“I mean, like, why are you calling? I ask, a nervous flutter building in the pit of my stomach—this is both thrilling and scary, even if this was a regular guy. I would still be freaking way out.

“Don’t know, really…” is all he says.

I wait, holding my breath for more, and when he doesn’t say anything, I exhale a silent breath, “Okay…so—”

“Can I see you?” he asks, straight to the point, and I slam the door shut, pressing my back flat against it. 

I’m at a loss for words, “ummm….I don’t know—”

“Is it a weird ask?” and he kind of laughs because I’m sure he already knows the answer. 

“Harry—” 

“Wait—what’s your name? I’ll need a name to tell security—”

“Security—? Oh my god—wait, what? Who says I’m going?” I question, smiling to myself as I make a slow descent downward, sliding down the door until my butt hits the ground—until I can press my hand flat against the cold hardwood floor, the chill meaning this moment is real and that this is happening. 

“My name is Romee—” I tell him softly.

“Well, Romee…is that a yes? Or a no?” he asks, and the deep rasp of his voice unsettles me in ways I haven’t felt in a long time—because when was the last time I felt this excited, had something to look forward to?

“Romee—before you answer that. It’s okay if you don’t want to come. I’m realizing now how strange this all must be…”

“Yeah…strange—” I whisper, a bit dazed, him saying my name stirring something internal. I keep picturing him on that stage, remembering all the ways I had imagined him—the details that had my head spinning. 

“It’s just—” he begins but doesn’t finish the thought. I’m holding my breath again, listening to his slow breaths, anxiously waiting for him to say anything.

“It’s just what? Harry—” I gently nudge.

“I just—I don’t—” he exhales a loud breath into the phone, maybe frustrated. It’s making me nervous and desperate to know. 

“Gosh—” I laugh, “The anticipation alone is making me want to take you up on your offer—”

A low rasp blooms in my ear, “No—I’m sorry—” he says, now laughing. 

“It’s just hard to explain…I don’t know, I just really want to see you…” 

My chest swells with his words. The giddy curiosity of all the possibilities and when he says, “Romee…please—” I squeeze my eyes shut, head falling back against the door—he had me at “Romee”—he could say my name over and over, but when he said “please…” I felt the longing pulse between my legs.

Then he said, “It won’t be weird, I promise—I just—I don’t know…want to make it up to you…” just like that, so casual, like all of this is normal—like me going to his hotel room won’t change me in some way. 

“Harry—” 

“Romee…” he whispers.

I let out a small laugh, “And how will you make it up to me? I ask, voice low, intrigued by the shift taking place.

“Whatever you want…it’s yours…” And his voice is a slow vibration drifting through my body, piquing my curious mind one persuasive word after another, and I’m dying to explore this—him and his body. 

Everything in me wanted to reply with something witty, but “Mmmm…” rose in my throat like a tapered moan I kept sealed behind my lips, nearly giving myself away. 

“That’s a yes, then?” he rasps. 

“Harry…” I whisper.

“Romee…”

“Say my name again…” I whisper softer this time.

“Romee…please…I promise—”

And there it was again, that pulse now humming up my spine. “What’s the address?” I ask because I’m weak, and I want whatever he’s trying to give, and I deserve this—He owes me after all, right? 

A/N: Tag list open! Can't wait to get this story moving!!

Previous Chapters<-

[alpaca-clouds]

The Nature-Culture Divide

Something I have seen a lot of people within the Solarpunk sphere talk about and wonder is: "When did we stop seeing ourself as something outside of nature?" And given that I actually had a module on that (Social Geography, best module I ever had, given we had an anarchist professor!) I thought I could quickly explain this one.

So, the names come, in the end, from Latin and back when those words were considered in Latin, the difference was, that nature was a thing that was innate, while culture had volition behind it. You could change nature into culture by putting work into it.

Something that might surprise you is, that the idea of nature then was never quite big for most of European history. And let me make one thing clear: While we have these ideas also played with in Buddhist culture - especially in East Asia - the way we define it right now is a Western idea.

And that idea... Well, that idea came with colonialism. The thing many do not realize is, how much of the rules and "lines in the sand" that we use in our culture came from colonialisation, came from the desire to make "our" culture different from "theirs". It is shown in the way we eat, in the way we raise children, in the way we view gender and sexuality. And, yes, in the artificial border between nature and culture.

Before I tell you more about this, let me please say here: Yes, this is contradictive. I am aware of it. I am not the one who came up with the contradiction. White settlers did that all on their own.

When the settlers came to America they found a landscape very, very different from what they were used to from Europe. After all, Europe has been changed through human hand for at that point about 1600 years. (And for you Europeans out there: Researching how much forest your local area might have lost through the Romans is always a "fun" thing to do! Because the Romans destroyed a lot of European ancient forests.) In Europe, even at the wildest places, there was usually some evidence of human habitation - but this was not true for the Americas. Not because there were no people there, but rather because the people interacted with the environment very differently.

See, the European idea - while never quite that defined until this point - was really, really based on this thought that nature can be turned into culture. And that this transformation was in fact a good thing to happen. So, when the settlers arrived in the Americas they did not see "culture" there, only "nature" and set out to turn that "nature" into "culture".

Of course, we - modern people living today - do realize that indigenous people had in fact cultures of all sorts and that the actual difference was, that they just did not see that culture as something different from nature, rather than a part of it. Because their culture had not been influenced by Romans. But the settlers back then did not see this or rather did not want to see this. So they "cultured" the land, with the ideas about nature and culture being further formalized at that point.

It kinda stayed like this until the late 19th century, when Madison Grant, the originator of eco fascism came to be influencial. And now he saw something that the settlers until this point were unable to see: The indigenous people do stuff with the nature around them! They change it! For example through controlled burning of forests and things like that.

And this made Madison Grant very angry, because he was very much off the opinion that nature should be "unsoiled" by human hands. So... he made sure that those indigenous people got once more pushed out of the areas they were living, with the same areas being declared natural parks and no longer interfered with by humans (except, of course, all the tourists who destroyed it bit by bit). Leading... To a lot more wild fires.

So, where does this leave us in terms of the culture/nature divide?

Well, the idea has been there since ancient Rome and has very much influenced how much we view nature as its own thing. But within Rome nature was still not quite seen as the opposite of culture - as one could turn into the other. Under the Roman view an abandoned house or a field that was no longer cared for would turn back into nature, while anything could become culture just by interacting with humans.

The modern view really came through colonialism and the way colonialist did not understand (and did not want to understand) indigenous practices. This made people more and more drift towards the understanding of humans being an entirely different thing from nature.

But this is wrong, of course. We are part of nature. We are just animals with fingers and slightly larger brains. And many indigenous cultures understood this. In the end it was the greed of some that made us loose this connection to nature. And that is exactly why we are in this climate change related mess right now.

[extendedtimeline]

Batman: Europa & Batman and Jokers relationship

read: This will be a post looking at, and analyzing the relationship between Batman & Joker in Batman: Europa. I actually wrote this entire post (it took me like two hours) and then Tumblr didn't save it correctly so I lost all of my work! <////3 This is your sign to not be like me and write directly on Tumblr it's a bad idea. This won't be as long as the post was originally intended to be, but I hope to still touch on most of the topics I did the first time. I HEAVILY recommend reading this comic for yourself at some point. It's very compelling. Apologies if I get anything incorrect, or if I don't make sense at any point. If you have any requests for future posts about Batman & Jokers relationship I'm definitely all ears!!!

Small Summary

In Batman: Europa Batman and the Joker are infected with a deadly virus, they're both given varying pieces of information to begin with, and this leads to them teaming up to find the person who infected them. They travel throughout Europe (Berlin, Prague, Paris, and Rome) together, fighting enemies, and learning about eachother along the way.

Note

I'm going to divide this post up by Comic issue AKA location. I think this will just make it easier in general. Unlike my first version of this, I'm going to try to keep my summaries of each issue condensed. I will start out with a summary of the issue, and then talk about what I noticed within the chapters. I'm going to try to keep the images to a minimum (bc of the image limit) but if you're curious about what a page looks like, go check it out! Seriously, the art is amazing. I may not touch on absolutely every instance of their weird relationship with her eachother but I tried to pick out the moments I liked a lot <3

Berlin

This chapter starts in Gotham, where Batman is fighting Croc, although Bruce is much weaker than usual. Croc even senses this, and comments on it. Bruce does eventually take him down and Alfred asks him to come to the Batcave. Alfred breaks the news that there has been a virus put on the bat computer. The screen reads:

" Colossus is in your system. You have one week left. Have fun. Start running. "

Obviously from this and Bruce's state they gather this isn't really about the bat computer, and actually about Bruce. Batman finds that the virus originated in Berlin, so he suits up and heads out.

Bruce stalks a criminal, but when he runs out of a building screaming murder, Bruce enters to find a bunch of people with gigantic grins plastered on their faces, so it's clear who is behind this attack.

Bruce tracks down Joker and smashes through a window (because of course he does???). Joker was badgering a girl named Nina about something. Bruce starts to interrogate the Joker until he realizes the Joker is ALSO infected. Nina also knows about the computer virus and can get in contact with the person who asked her to make it. Bruce realizes that he literally needs the Joker on this case with him.

Berlin: B & J

Something I felt the need to bring up is the way Bruce talks about the History of Cölln and Berlin:

" Cölln and Berlin crashed into each other somewhere in the fourteenth century. History forced them together. I get the joke but I'm not laughing. "

Clearly, this is talking about B&J's history too, but I want to talk even deeper on the matter.

Joker has always been queer, he has been coded that way since his introduction. In the beginning it was assumed he wore makeup and he was flamboyant and somewhat "effeminate". Batman was supposed to be the opposite. Despite the fact the idea of The Batman is rather outlandish, and multiple people do comment on this in Batman comics, Batmans brand of outlandish is accepted because hes seen as the defender of the heteronormative agenda. He goes against the criminal, and otherwise queer joker to enforce heteronormative ideologies. He is a big intimidating man, and Joker is supposed to be just the opposite.

Of course, now there is more nuance and a bit more care put into these character, but the way theyre portrayed early on feels very much like Batman is fighting against somebody who goes against the Norms. I'm not saying that Batman is homophobic NOW, and I'm not even saying he was intentionally homophobic then, but the ideals of writers tend to show in their work, and it was the '40s.

Infact, I think Bruce has ALSO been used to show what it's like to be a repressed queer person. He's not ALLOWED to be queer with Joker because Jokers was is supposed to be the wrong way.

Bruce & Joker talk

B: "You're infected, too?" J: "I'll take that to mean we both are. Maybe they'll bury us together."

Already talk of them dying together (Thinking about Batman: Endgame so intensely rn). Joker may also be alluding to the way married couples are often buried together.

In general, Joker and Batman, after their initial scuffle, talk rather casually in this chapter. Not beating the bff allegations

We do get this at the end of the chapter:

Batman doesn't say it outright (as in literally saying "I need you, Joker"), but it is the truth. They've both been given different pieces of the puzzle and only by putting them together can they figure it out. Almost like a comment on how they're better together? Almost like a comment on the whole nature of their relationship and how they are dependent on one another???

Prague

We start off with Bruce talking about the history of Prague. Nina is now working with them, she is trying to lure out whoever it was that propositioned her to put the virus on Bruce's computer.

Nina is scared, and as she's speaking to Bruce about the Trojan Horse (the person who requested this of her) these wooden robots start to attack. Joker is faster than Batman at getting up and out of the sewers and kills a man.

Nina is taken by the robots, and Batman begins to fight them off with Jokers help. But Bruce can tell the wooden robots are actually leading them somewhere theyre supposed to go.

I'll speak on everything that happens to Nina now, because it cuts in and out of her and B&J's storyline for a second. She was taken by the associate of the perpetrator. It's implied she is to be killed, but the perpetrator kills his associate, thanking him for what he's done for him.

Joker is taken captivate by a gigantic wooden robot, as he's sucked into it's chest cavity. Batman chases after it, and uses a silane capsule to set it aflame. Because the thing is already covered in ancient grease and oil which doesn't pair well with burning gas the outcome is even more deadly. Batman is struck by the robot and goes black. He believes his time is up until Joker busts out of the robots chest cavity and saves Bruce. Since Joker tore the robot apart from the inside it's now extremely broken and easily taken down.

because Batman had a tracker on Nina's clothing, he knows that she is heading into Paris. So that will be their next destination!

Prague: B & J

When Joker and Batman are in the sewers, Joker is messing around with some insects.

Bruce brings up Joker

"With a partner... I'd be crazy to trust."

The thing is, and we see this later more explicitly, Bruce DOES Trust joker even if he shouldn't.

"Not yours or mine, but our fate."

This once again brings me back to Batman: Endgame. Their lives, their demises, are linked to eachother. Bruce is scared of this link, because it says something about him he doesn't quite like or want to explore behind surface level. This entire scenario is begging him to confront that idea though. Because he needs the Joker now, and perhaps he always has?

Batman & Joker dialogue:

B: "Joker-- save your strength." J: "instead of myself?" B: "Trust me-- there's too many of them-- and the way these things are fighting... they're directing us somewhere."

Ah, yes, Trust. A reoccurring idea in Europa! Of course Batman probably believes himself to be trustworthy, atleast more so than the Joker, but for the both of them trust doesn't come easy. It's a big ASK of either of them to put genuine faith into someone. But they ask that of eachother. HMMMMMM!!!!

Batman & Joker Dialogue

B: Show some respect-- you... you-- J: "Saved me." I'd say you're welcome but I'm less happy about that than you are. Anyway, save the "Thankee" until after I save Nina, it'll mean more. B: That won't happen...

This marks the first time in this comic that Joker saves Batman, and it seems to me that Joker plays this off as something he didn't ENJOY doing. but he does it again later? so like okay man???

Paris

Bruce & Joker are walking around in the catacombs, Joker is leading them to his "circus". When they get there, the people are able to give them some information on the Trojan Horse.

Once theyve gotten the info, Batman goes off only to find the man had been killed. He was just a pawn.

Batman and Joker head off towards the sound of a Bell only to find a man who is a combination of both the joker and batman (where have I seen this before? /sarcastic). Bruce asks Joker to rescue Nina and when Joker hesitates, Bruce scolds himself for trusting him.

Bruce slips off of the building they're on and Joker saves his life.

Joker tells Batman Nina was dead long before they got there. Batman puts clues together and is able to deduce where they are to go to next: Rome.

Paris: B & J

Batman 💭

" I'm out of my head, fevered, infected with a virus that's driving me crazy. What it's doing to the joker is your guess, not mine. He can't get crazier, can he? But that might be the point of our infection-- to see if I can. To lose it, then die unaware of who I am. Or to die, not fighting my greatest enemy, but clutching him against the face of fear. "

Something that I find rather fascinating is how we DON'T know how the virus is messing with Joker. Are the effects the same for Joker and Bruce? or are they completely different? Is it causing any mental strain for Joker or is it physical? Further more – is the virus less about hurting Bruce AND Joker or just Bruce? If Bruce already sees himself as somewhat crazy (as he insinuates) how much worse can it get? Is he already at the worst of it? If he questions who he is, why? Does the Joker have something to do with him questioning things?

Then there's that last line about clutching Joker against the face of fear. It feels like it's implying, atleast to me, that In that moment Joker would be a source of comfort for Bruce. And that SCARES him because of course it does. Does this lead to Bruce questioning more about his relationship with the Joker? If he already is questioning himself, and making up these scenarios, is it possible he's questioning more than just his identity?

Those are all questions I don't necessarily need answered, but all things I ask myself.

Joker is talking to Batman about his circus (the people he gets his information from about the Trojan horse):

B: This cirque. You still haven't explained what it is. J: What if I said I have, ad nauseam? Can you trust me? ... Relax, Bats. It's a hypothetical question. B: Heh. That's funny. J: Really? Wasn't meant to be. We're in this together if we want to live to see the day we kill each other.... oops. Should I have said "Spoilers"?

Once again a reference to trust, but this time about Bruce trusting Joker. And of course Bruce doesn't respond to this inquiry, and Joker says it's just a hypothetical, but we see how the idea prevails in the next quote.

Bruces 💭

"At one point, I almost chuckled to myself; Joker does know his way around the bowels of this city. Or bowels, period. Yes, I have to trust him... and yes it sickens me."

So Bruce puts his trust in Joker, no matter how much it upsets him to do so. Even if he doesn't like the idea, he knows the Joker is knowledgeable, and he also knows the Joker is more than willing to share what he knows because HE wants to be the one to kill Batman. He doesn't want someone else to get the satisfaction. He wants them to kill each other. Intrinsically linked death reference. I need a buzzer for that or something.

I edited 2 images tg for the next one ☝️ just so I don't go passed the pesky image limit. Sorry if it looks weird

So yeah... Joker holds onto Bruce and Bruce calls him "My Monkey" so idfk take with that what you will. Absolutely diabolical work.

Also just wanted to throw it in there that Joker does just straight up say "Batjoke" in this comic:

Bruce starts to slide off the building they're on and Joker saves him with the grappling hook.

Bruce's 💭

" I'll never know if he missed me on purpose... but the scar will forever remind me of the day... the joker saved my life. "

So yeah, despite the fact Joker acting annoyed last time at the fact he saved Bruce, he just does it again? I think at the end of the day, this ties into Jokers want to be the one to kill Batman, while also being the one to make Batman break his no killing rule. His life has no punchline without Batman, it would feel devoid of meaning. So he saves him.

Once Batman has deduced they need to get to Rome:

J: Oh well, might as well get on one of those roads. We're burning moonlight after all. Rome: The Infernal City. B: It's eternal, Joker. J: Really? Have you been? B: ... Let's stick with infernal. We'll fit right in.

I wanted to mention this because the mention of being "infernal" (or something from hell) struck me. In some Christian teachings (I do not know much Abt religion so forgive me if I mess this up), those who go to hell are people who have not repented for their sins. Batman and Joker have both "sinned" and while we can defend one (Bruce) easier than the other (Defending Joker would take 15 defense attorneys alone) this implies neither of them would seek repentance from God, as in they wouldnt regret their actions, or feel guilty or remorseful for what they've done. While this would be a clear "duh" moment for most anyone who knows the Joker (although we can still even debate this), some may wonder about why Bruce would feel no remorse.

And I think the simple answer is that he knows what good he has done and he wouldn't reject that idea to appease a higher power. I think specifically in relation to Joker, Bruce may regret letting him live because of the people he would have saved had Joker died, but he doesn't regret NOT KILLING Joker if that makes sense.

Rome

It opens with Bruce talking about the history of Rome. Joker and Bruce are bickering like an old married couple. They're approaching the colosseum and when they do a man approaches. He talks about how keeping a mask on prevents others from knowing who you truly are.

the big reveal!!!! ITS BANE! He is once again trying to fuck Batmans life up LOL! He wants to kill Joker in front of Batman while Batman knows Joker is the only thing that can cure the virus that's killing him. Bruce starts attacking Bane and when he's getting close to ending him, Joker plays a hunch, asking Bane to kill Bruce. This distracts Bane long enough for Bruce to signal bats to show up and attack Bane.

Bruce tells Joker that the cure is eachothers blood.

During the fight, Bane revealed that Joker had allowed Nina to die in front of him, and Bruce asks if this is true. Obviously, it is. Bruce genuinely considers letting them both die in that moment, but Joker takes it into his own hands and tastes some of Bruce's blood. In the end they go back to their classic dance (Batman beating Joker up).

Rome: B & J

HERE IT IS!!! A CULMINATION OF A LOT OF WHAT THE STORY HAS BEEN TELLING US! Of course, Batman NEEDS Joker in this moment to survive but it feels like a comment on their relationship as a whole. He had to realize that Joker is a main driving force for him, and without him, who is he really? Who would he become?

ONCE AAAGAAAINNN the idea of them dying together. Joker even DARES him to die alongside him. Their intertwined fates...

"And if the Joker is to live, then so must the Batman."

Literally tied together. Invisible string type of shit. Batman won't allow one to exist without the other here.

and then of course:

and yeah man WOAH. Let's talk about blood consumption. Vampires, and therefore by association, the consumption of blood as a whole, is something that has been used in queer text many times before (look at my last post if you wanna see more on that and how it relates to Batman). Of course we can take it a step further and think about it as strictly a bodily fluid. They have consumed parts of eachother now. When I originally typed this up, I believe I called it akin to the "consummation of a marriage". They've sworn themselves to each other by LITERALLY having parts of themselves inside each other.

During the beginning of this chapter, and previous chapters, before the introduction of where they are, we sometimes would get this set of images.

OUR BLOOD ON EACH OTHERS LIPS? without the context, this borders on undeniably romantic (I mean even in context lol?). Your immediate thought is, did they kiss? is there going to be an implied kiss? And I think that was definitely on purpose.

this comes from the scripting for this comic if I recall correctly

so we LITERALLY get

"they look ready to either kiss or strangle each other with passion"

it's clear this IS supposed to be explicitly queer in some way. Strangulation and romantic gestures almost feel the same with them. Strangling each other is as close as they will get to kissing, as long as Bruce stays repressed, and so they are to kiss with their hands around each other's throats forever.

I'd also like to point out the phrasing "But I'm ready to go all the way... and do it." clearly vague and 99% of the time (not a real statistic LMAO) when people say "do it" they're alluding to sex. This feels like an obvious allusion to them having sex.

And at the end Batman begins to fight the Joker, because of course he does. The curing of their shared virus has forced him back into a repressed state. So he hurts him and they continue their usual dance, as if the disruption to their game never occured.