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Don't be offended at the title. "Teenagers" is just my way of saying "people who write unprofessional/shallow stories." Not all teenagers write shallow stories, it just sounds catchier.... Anyway.

The first thing I want to make clear is: I'm not talking about anything mechanical in this deviation. Grammar/spelling is important (obviously), but that point has been beaten to death by people on the internet already. My purpose, as always, is to talk about the stories themselves, regardless of the way they are communicated. Whether it be through written word or on-the-spot narration, I believe there are certain tricks to telling good stories. Not rules, mind you. Tricks.

I don't believe that telling good stories is about what you "should" do, rather than what you shouldn't. Example: people generally hate Mary Sues, right? Well, sometimes I notice things that are "like" Mary Sues, in the sense that they're equally as shallow/unprofessional ways of telling stories. The purpose of this deviation is to point them out. I won't be talking about Mary Sues or self inserts in this deviation. This is about things that tend to go more unnoticed (I already have deviations about those anyway).

1. Thinking that "most" = best

Sometimes people who write think they're making "the best story ever," because it's the MOST dramatic, MOST dark, MOST romantic MOST (insert your choice of adjective here). Having the most of something doesn't equate to it being the best. Think of it like salt.

2. Unbalance

Do you ever read a story, and it feels like there was a big hole in it? Maybe it was a tragedy that focused on nothing but tragic events. The author got carried away in their emotions and didn't create a well-rounded world for us to care about while the sad things take place. Sure, sad things are sad, but that is no accomplishment of the author. It would be MORE sad if the audience had a well-created world to be sad about in the first place.
In fanfiction, the writers have the advantage of writing about something that people already care about. That's how a lot of people with barely any imagination can get so many people to like their fanfiction stories. "Hey! Let's take the Once-ler and find a way to drench him in blood! It sure took talent to think of that!"
Never judge someone's imagination by how popular their fanfiction is. Never...

3. Narcissism

Sometimes people consider themselves to be a certain way. They write certain genres or about certain themes for the sake of adding to their self-proclaimed image. They use their stories as stepping stones (a lot of times without even realizing it) to show off in front of other people. A lot of times it's in the little things, strategically placed to look innocent or humble. "The woman shook her head in admiration at *insert-person-that's-supposed-to-be-like-them's-name.* 'That girl sure is *insert-their-choice-of-adjective!* We may never understand her!"

4. Abusing character roles (sort of a Part 2 of Narcissism)

I want you to think about Belle from Beauty in the Beast for a minute (the Disney version). If you're familiar with it, think of the song sung by the villagers about her in the beginning. Has anyone else ever noticed something...odd about it? The villagers are singing about how different (or "weird") she is, all because she reads books and acts like... well, the average girl you'd meet every day on DeviantArt. Meanwhile, if you met one of those villagers in real life, you'd probably think of THEM as the strange ones (first of all, they're abnormally nosy, all bothering to sing a big song about a perfectly normal girl whose personal life they REALLY bothered to have apparently looked so much into... o_O).
Okay. I understand that can be a strategy in story telling (using the background to add to the general effect of a certain thing... i.e Belle wanting a break from her boring life).
I bring this up however, mostly as a warning. I don't know how...um... healthy it is, that a lot of teenager girls these days really seem to think they're sooo great that they write stories about themselves and use other people as tools to look good. They make people (sometimes fake, sometimes real) in their stories impressed far too easily by themselves (or certain things) sometimes to the point even of contradiction. It falls into the same attitude as the narcissism example.
Sometimes it goes beyond, "Oh, a cute little Disney story," and gets really narcissistic and vain.
A story will suffer if it's written for anything besides the pure pleasure of writing it. Ulterior motives distract from making it the best it possibly can be. Not to mention, nobody likes being used as an audience for people who can't stop shining the spotlight on themselves. (It needed to be said).
Furthermore, Disney movies are corny. It's a fact. That's why we like them. The point is simple: if you are writing a CORNY story, feel free to use their little trick of making the whole world conform to one character/theme (heck, make everyone burst into song about them!) If you're NOT writing a corny story, avoid it at all costs. It's a cheap trick, and it's no substitute for actually making there be something special about whatever character/thing you're trying to make something special about.

Fun fact: "Bully" characters are possibly the biggest form of abuse to story-telling. This can be in the form of a snooty, popular girl at school who picks on the main-character we're supposed to feel sorry for, or in the form of unreasonably/obsessively cruel bullies who are far from even borderline realistic. They're the classic example of cheating in a story; the cheapest way to make other characters seem special or victim-ly.



5. Pretty feelings

Did you ever put on an Owl City song while you were writing/drawing and think something like: Lalalalalala, beautifulness, and the dreams and the beautifullness of the wonderful outerspace, flying through the sky and the shooting stars lalala!
Yeah, we could tell.
No, seriously, it's fine to get your inspiration from wherever you want. Just make sure that while you're getting all into the music that you don't let the emotions that the song brings you be your only guide.
Sometimes people get REALLY excited about their characters or a story they're making up and draw all this beautiful art of it, and you're like, "Hey! That's an amazing picture of the main character on a shooting star! So... when can I read this?!" Then you see the story, and think, "...this is it?"
Don't fall into the trap of thinking that your emotions are the story. A lot of people who listen to music while they write make this mistake, though that isn't to say that listening to music when you write is always automatically bad.



To conclude this, there's really only one thing I want to say. Write because you like to. Write about things you like no matter what they are and force them to fit together. Write about things that you like and wouldn't be too ashamed to show your friends or family. Odds are, if you're too embarrassed to show it to the people you know best, it's not coming from the heart. I don't mean "your emotions" as your heart. It's not really YOU if it's something you're embarrassed of. Embarrassment can be a sign that you know deep down your story might be a wee bit... well, stupid.
And then there are the people with no dignity.......

I love feedback. If anyone has anything interesting to add, I'd be glad to hear!
See my other posts about writing:
How Not to tell a Story makingfunofstuff.deviantart.co…
What really defines Mary Sue makingfunofstuff.deviantart.co…
A list of cliches in story-telling makingfunofstuff.deviantart.co…
Common problems with self-inserts makingfunofstuff.deviantart.co…
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I've noticed a trend of having dictator/world-ruler/people in a position of power characters. Normally, I find these types of characters fascinating - I love hearing the minutiae of how they keep their regime in control, the cults of personality they develop, their rise and their fall ... it's one of the reasons I love 1984 so much; is Big Brother real? Did he even exist in the first place? Who is the real leader of Oceania? Unfortunately, I've begun to see it addressed shoddily and without much thought, so I decided to make a guide of sorts (more like a glorified checklist) for anyone who is curious on how to develop their dictatorial character, and to make them realistic.

1. Why do they want power?

I have seen this written away with, "because they want to control everyone", which is true to an extent with many historical figures who were dictators, and also fictional characters. However, this often goes much deeper than "wanting to control everyone" or "they're mad, I tell you! MAD!". What are their reasons to act this way? Why did they seize power? I'm pretty sure the majority of us wouldn't mind being waited upon hand on foot as we see the territories we own slowly expanding under the steady march of one hundred-thousand booted feet. The difference is, most of us see this as purely fanciful, a bureaucratic nightmare, and just plain stupid.

Yes, I know generally, this is true, but is normally hidden by other reasons, the most common one being, "I want to make the world a better place. I will build a utopia". This simple idea can be expanded wonderfully - what exactly does your character dislike about the world at the minute? A broad spectrum of ideas can be considered - is it poverty? Ideological differences which keep people from getting along? The current government's policies? Obviously, these are very simple, and can once again be expanded - what caused the poverty, has it directly affected your character? Why are there radical idealogical differences, does your character hold fast to one particular idea? Do many people like the current government, are they ineffectual, are they too effective?

Worried you don't know enough about either politics or history to work this out neatly? Well, learn! You'll find it much more satisfying to be able to fill in plot holes you'd left before, and find it gives your character more personality. You can link them more personally to their regime, things will make more sense, their past can be expanded - what started this desire, why did they choose to act on it?

2. How will they gain power?

This next point is linked in closely to the first - how will takeover be achieved? I've seen a lot of, "oh, they just walk up and kill the previous government", but in reality, this step up is often hard worked for (over several years, maybe even decades), and much more subtle. Of course, former leaders have been murdered for the new position, but it still has to be worked for - do they have allies in the right places? What do the public think of them? Would people be desperate or willing enough to follow?

Generally, for a big political change like this to happen, an equally large catalyst is needed - for example, the famine of 1889 in Russia could be argued to have started the rumbling that lead to the Revolution in the 1910s. A lot of characters I see don't have such developed worlds in which they inhabit - the loopholes that allow them to gain support aren't specified, or make little to no sense. Was there a crucial international affair handled terribly by the government, perhaps, or a history of only a privileged few being treated well?

Hitler didn't just storm in and become Führer, Mao didn't just walk in and tell the whole of China that they would be going from aristocratic rule to Communism; these things take planning, often years of being patient and gathering followers have to precede becoming the leader. I don't care how powerful your character is, I don't care if his only weakness is glitter, he is not going to become leader by (presumably) charging in and going "I rule, now!". Which neatly brings me to my next point.

3. The Cult of Personality fail

Another thing I notice is barely touched on, or completely messed up. Yes, your character can be an unpleasant person - they can be short tempered, arrogant, and childish, but unless they project an image of benevolence and care for their citizens, there will be widespread political unrest. Look at propaganda used by real life dictatorships - the leader is often presented as unable to do wrong, or even godlike - they may be pictured as almost Jesus-like saviours of their people, maybe shown as omniscient - in 1984, Big Brother is said to see whatever you do, and as you can tell from Winston's distress, many think he can know the thoughts of his subjects, even though he obviously can't.

How does your character present themselves when in public? As a passionate warrior for their people, or a generous and kind-hearted aide? Do they stay out of the public eye, feigning immortality long after they die, or do they live in it, kiss babies, and embrace adults? And what about out of the public eye? How do they cope with the stress of keeping an entire nation in adoration?

Read this short article on the Cult of Personality, and see how Stalin is presented; compare this to your character, or character in progress - www.historyguide.org/europe/cu…

4. How do they hold their position of power?

The Nazi Gestapo, the Hungarian AVH, the Soviet KGB, all were used to simultaneously terrify and control the citizens. I don't see these types of organisations too much around the types of character this article was written to help improve. Once again, this tends to hinge around world building more than anything. Sometimes a vague secret police is mentioned and then handwaved away, but is never again felt, there never seems to be fear hanging heavily on the shoulders of the characters, they're just brought in where the plot calls for it, and are often nameless, faceless, and we have no idea what they actually do. Why are people so scared? I know sometimes less is more, but still, vague ideas as to what they do should be addressed.

How does your dictator remove potential opposition? Through careful political manouvering, quiet assassination, or blatant murder? How do they crush revolution? Do they outright kill dissenters, or do they turn revolutionaries against each other. Do they prevent it by drugging the water, through propaganda depicting rebels as inhuman, wanting only to tear families apart?

This point links in very neatly with the Cult of Personality - if you develop one well, the other comes much easier. Both are great opportunities to show your character cracking down on what their people do, to show their nastier side.

5. What will they do in power?

Once again, there are a lot of characters I have seen that do nothing in power, apart from maybe gain new lands (without the stresses of war) or have statues of themselves built. There is little to no detail on home affairs, diplomatic relations with other countries/nations, or even smaller things such as healthcare or tax. What are their policies? What do they tell their people they'll improve upon or change? Once again, this may seem intimidating if you don't know much about politics, but it can be easily sorted out, and adds more flesh to the world and your character, tells the reader of their personal beliefs.

Look at the policies historical dictators have stood for, other than war or their own gain. How did they carry on convincing their people everything is done for the country? How did they deal with war? How will your character? Will they go with diplomacy and creating allies, or fighting other countries into submission? How will they deal with the economic strains of war?

6. One-sided characters.

Something I have noticed happening with 'evil' characters in a position of power, is that they don't really do all that much evil. Take Galbatorix from the Inheritance Cycle as an example - what has he done that is so awful? We're told something vague about taxes being high, but Eragon's supposedly poor family can eat chicken for breakfast and have spending money at a fair. We're never really shown what he does that's so awful - for all we know, the Varden could be a terrorist organisation, whilst Galbatorix raises taxes to give his subjects a higher standard of living.

Another simplified version of "they're evil" I often see is something like this -
My character is evil and awful and a bad person.
Why?
They kill babies.
Why?
Because they're evil and awful and a bad person.

It's very rare this is expanded upon. Very few reasons are given for atrocities. Even something as simple as paranoia could work, but is very rarely mentioned.
We don't often see another side to the character, just the stereotypical cold bad boy, occasionally. We never see how they act with family, or friends, or if they're actually a decent person with twisted ideals. Someone can still be pleasant and a bad person, in the same way someone can be moody and a good person. People who don't develop their characters very well often stick with making the bad guy a one-sided 'bad' character because it's much easier than giving them a personality, dreams, hopes, goals and quirks that can also be associated with a 'good' character.

In conclusion, I hope that this guide helps people with characters they want to make a bit more solid and realistic.
A guide to making decent ~ruler~ characters, because people fuck what could be interesting characters far too often.
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  …Priscilla.

  I will keep you safe.

  I will keep you company.

  Do you remember all those years ago – when we first met? I remember it perfectly. I was so very close. So very, very close to my last shred of sanity snipping. And then I saw a peculiar little girl in white dress – you. Your left hand was occupied by a tattered doll. Your right was wet from wiping your tears. Your eyes began to water again, but I caught it for you that time. I still had a shred of humanity left, gnawing at my heart's strings to care for you, to pity, and to comfort. You were scared by my face, but I mustered a smile, and told you not to fear. You told me that you were lonely, that you were unloved.

  And from that point on, I never left your side.

  Do you remember all those years ago – when I saved your life? I remember it perfectly. The cursed fellow had threatened you, and I had intervened. You were bigger, but still, I needed to protect you. He chased you up the tower, calling you a monster, saying you needed to disappear. And then he drew his rapier. I had never moved faster in my life than I did grabbing that awful man by the brim of his ebony vestment. I had never acted as instinctively as I led him to the window. I had never whispered as softly as I did to you of reassuring, and to him of the pain of death. I had never been more deafened than by his scream as I cast him away.

  Take away upon your black wings, bishop, for your mistress commands it.

 Do you remember all those years ago – when you saw my face for the first time? I remember it perfectly. Soul of black I had retrieved, and offered it to the gentle flame I did. My flesh was deep and wrinkled no more. I turned to you, and you seemed shocked at my form. You were my height, and we were both exceedingly young. I could even remember a flicker of attraction…but no. I refused desire. My love for you was of parent to child, or of sibling to sister. And it was good that I refused, for you grew, oh so very fast. Soon, you towered above me, and regardless, I still guarded you with my life.

  I made a promise to you, Priscilla. I promised that I would never let you see darkness.

  Do you remember that short time ago – when the people gathered? I remember it perfectly. Ariamis gathered, and desired your pure blood. How shocked I was. How scared you were. They hurried to the theatre, where you and I often met. How ready I was. How well-hid you were. The crowd broke through, and I met them head-on. How ravenous I was. How aghast you were. Ariamis fell to my feet. How alive I was. How frightened you were. After I finished, I ran to you, and embraced you.

  I fell the entire city as the ax man does the forest. I was invincible.

  You would be safe forever.

  Do you remember that short time ago – when I found the red rock? I remember it perfectly. I had slain anyone that came near you. Everyone was a threat, as everyone was present at the theatre that fateful night. And then you began to cry, for you were lonely again. I did everything I could to comfort you. Yet you ran from me, from your sole friend, terrified. So I brought new friends. I tempted those with Lifedrain to pursue me, as their master tempted them with the very art they wielded. I brought many new friends for you to meet.

  I will do anything in my power to keep you safe, Priscilla.

  Do you remember the fall of Ariamis? I remember it perfectly. The city crumbled under the assault of the Crimson Ones. All through the onslaught, you sought me. You found me in the theatre, and I greeted you merrily. But then you turned your blade on me. Your beautiful scythe sliced the air beside my head flawlessly. I was blank. My only friend wanted me dead. I begged you to stop as I evaded cut after cut. You screamed at me, calling me a monster. You claimed I was nicer when I looked to be a monster. You called all humans monsters. And then I held my weapon to receive a blow from the elegant scythe.

  And that was perhaps the greatest mistake I ever made.

  Your immense size…It threw me an admirable distance.

  And then, you hooked your foot under my torso, and threw me off the edge with it.

  When I finally landed, tears fell from my eyes as I felt my body fade, and the fiery ring burn brighter…

  …I am back, Priscilla. I have come to fulfill my promise to you…

  …As long as it is within my power...

  …You will never see the Age of Dark…

  …My dear friend.
A short story about the Painted World of Ariamis, and it's fascinating inhabitant, Crossbreed Priscilla.

I say "fascinating" because unlike other bosses in Dark Souls, Priscilla lets you walk away without a scratch, only if you return the favor. Therefore, I made a little connection to the character and Priscilla.

*NOTE: This is in no way real Lore. Only a theory that was expanded into a writing.*
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Handling knives with utmost care,

The smell of death lingering in the air,

Blood splattered on everything I wear.

Motive or disease;

A quick kill just doesn't please.

The loud tortured screams,

Tears flowing in streams.

Blood everywhere;

I cause quite a scare,

Limbs of my victims strewn here and there.

They scream that I'm going to Hell,

But oh, very well.

It's better than this society that fell.

I always get away,

In this game that I play,

I love to kill every night and day.

And I will not cry

Over the day I will die,

Because death and I aren't very shy.

I'll kill to my demise,

And I will say no goodbyes,

For it's in the ground where all my friends lie.
This is a result of boredom and listening to Voltaire. .__.

And I seriously never have a clue as to what categories to put my poems in. So I randomly pick one. XD

Wait, does this need a mature warning? o__O
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Sitting in a palatial wardroom
Surrounded by bullet-ridden walls
He watches the latest soap opera
Tearing up as he learns
That Jeffy won't be playing football again

Fool the people
Play the game
Before you knock
Tell me my name


His guns are shiny
His shoes are too
His teeth are capped in platinum
His arms are tattooed

Fool the people
Play the game
Showering with filthy billions
Still you reek of shame


It's the U.S. on Line 1
It's the Kremlin on Line 2
Is my yacht ready
Make sure it's stocked with champagne

Fool the people
Play the game
Are you winning
As you run in vain?


Schmoozing with the debutantes
Of Princes in your land
They bow to kiss your ring
Isn't life grand?

As choppers cut down the rabble
Thrill to the 30mm auto-cannon serenade
Blood fills the gutters
And new orphans weep, afraid

Fool the people
Play the game
Satan has your table ready
At the Chateau d' Profane


Cameras flash as reporters query
Do you still intend to parry
The critique of your style?
Amid news of a vast campaign
To quell the voices of dissent?

It's all a part of your Master Plan
But wait, is that Geraldo?
He changed his hairpiece
Call my barber now

Fool the people
Play the game
Hide the bodies of the slain
Beneath the new playground


Ray-Bans are his shades of choice
Black Dragons are his smokes
His shoes are Stacy Adams
His suits are London bespoke

Sipping Louis XIII cognac
While watching reruns of Starsky and Hutch
He secretly enjoys our Western culture
That he publicly hates so much

Fool the people
Play the game
In his mind he's Jesse James
Riding a stallion named Infidel


Listen people; listen well!
I harbored you under my wings
In times of war I was faithful
To keep our nation sacred
Against the West's betrayals

Now you turn your back
On your Master and your Lord
You dare to bite the hand that feeds
You dogs! You shall taste my sword!

Fool the people
Play the game
Castrated are the dreams
Of a land under terror
All Rights Reserved. 2012.
Comments welcome

Dedicated to all those who have died under the regimes of bloodthirsty men and their reigns of terror...from Stalin to Ayatollah and beyond.

As serious as this is, I take pride in dark, dry humor that mocks those who were born without a conscience.
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"One side of me says 'wow that's an attractive chick, I'd like to talk to her, date her' the other side says I wonder what her head would look like on a stick." -Edmund Kemper

"I just wanted to see how it felt to shoot Grandma." - Edmund Kemper

"The first good-looking girl I see tonight is going to die." - Edmund Kemper

"I remember there was actually a sexual thrill . . . you hear that little pop and pull their heads off and hold their heads up by the hair. Whipping their heads off, their body sitting there. That'd get me off." - Edmund Kemper

"I am not insane, I'm just queer."-Albert Fish

final words: "Kiss my ass!"-John Wayne Gacy

"You have not caught me yet and you are not likely to. I shall keep on at my work, for I love it, and I will send you something for a Christmas box."
- Jack The Ripper

"I'm not an alien maniac, nor yet a foreign tripper. I'm just your jolly, lively friend. Yours truly, Jack the Ripper." - Jack The Ripper


"We all go a little mad sometimes"- Norman Bates

"I didn't want to hurt them, I only wanted to kill them."-David "Son of Sam" Berkowitz

"Everyone has his own taste. Mine is for corpses."- Necrophile Heneri Blot

"He started messing with the christmas tree, telling me how nice the christmas tree was. So I shot him."- David Bullock

"What's one less person on the face of the earth, anyway?"-Ted Bundy

"I'm as cold a motherfucker as you've ever put your fucking eyes on. I don't give a shit about those people."-Ted Bundy

"We serial killers are your sons, we are your husbands, we are everywhere. And there will be more of your children dead tomorrow" - Ted Bundy

"You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You're looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God!"- Ted Bundy on the joy of murder

"My consuming lust was to experience their bodies. I viewed them as objects, as strangers...It's hard for me to believe that a human being could have done what I've done..." - Jeffery Dahmer

"I always had the desire to inflict pain on others and to have others inflict pain on me. I always seemed to enjoy everything that hurt. The desire to inflict pain, that is all that is uppermost."- Albert Fish

"I took her bra and panties off and had sex with her. That's one of those things I guess that got to be a part of my life -having sexual intercourse with the dead."- Henry Lee Lucas

"These children that come at you with knives, they are your children. You taught them. I didn't teach them. I just tried to help them stand up."-Charles Manson

"Look down on me, you will see a fool. Look up at me, you will see your lord. Look straight at me, you will see yourself."- Charles Manson

"After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from my neck? That would be the pleasure to end all pleasures."- Peter Kurten

"I love to kill people. I love to watch them die. I would shoot them in the head and they would wiggle and squirm all over the place, and then just stop. Or I would cut them with a knife and watch their faces turn real white. I love all that blood."-Richard "The Night Stalker" Ramirez

"Mr. Lusk. Sir I send you half the Kidney I took from one woman preserved it for you. the other piece I fried and ate it was very nice. I may send you the bloody knife that took it out if you only wait a while longer. Signed Catch me when you can Mister Lusk." -Jack the Ripper
Quotes from Jefferey Dahmer, Charles Manson, Jack the Ripper, ect.
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Luffy vs. Popeye by Dimension-Dino

Ray: Alright, the combatants are set. Let’s settle this debate once and for all.

Steel: It’s time for a DEATH BATTLE!!!

--

All was calm as a massive galleon cruised across the ocean's surface, its lion-head bowsprit and straw-hat wearing Jolly Roger noticeable anywhere. From its deck, one could hear merry music from a fiddle, and the members of the crew either singing or dancing along to it.

Joining them in the festivities was the captain of this ship known to all as "Thousand Sunny". That captain was none other than the famed Straw-Hat Luffy.

The song came to an end and the skeletal fiddler took a bow, his art complete. If he had a proper face, he would have smiled at the cheers.

“WOW!” Luffy said with a broad smile, “Play it again!”

Yet as the crew celebrated, a simple-looking steamboat was coming across their path up ahead. At first, the crew paid no mind to it. That all changed because, just when the skeleton was about to draw his bow across the strings of his instrument, another tune cut across him, catching the immediate attention of the ship's captain.

The song in the distance sounded a little something like this...

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
Popeye the Sailor Man
I'm strong to the finich,
‘cause I eats me spinach
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man

I'm one tough Gazookus, which hates all Palookas.
Wot ain't on the up and square.
I biffs 'em and buffs 'em and always out roughs 'em
but none of 'em gets nowhere.

If anyone dares-es to risk me fist,
It's "Boff" an' it's "Wham" un'erstan'?
So keep "Good Be-hav-or", That's your one life saver
With Popeye the Sailor Man.

I'm Popeye the Sailor Man
Popeye the Sailor Man.
I'm strong to the finich,
‘cause I eats me spinach.
I'm Popeye the Sailor Man!


Luffy growled in frustration. Not only did he not like the music (for reasons beyond even the most brilliant mind in the world), but it had cut off a perfectly good song from Brook.

“HEY!” Luffy shouted, hoping the owner of the boat would hear him, “You’re interrupting our music!”

On receiving no response, Luffy was prepared to put an end to it personally. One of his crew, a gorgeous redheaded woman, seemed to sense this.

“Oh no,” Nami said, shaking her head furiously, “Don’t even think about it. Just leave the ship alone, it’s not even attacking or bothering us!”

Too late. Luffy had pulled back a fist and sent it rocketing at the ship, creating a massive hole in its side. It slowed and then slowly began to sink.

On the sinking ship’s deck, the man singing the song was not amused. His surprisingly-twisted face twisted even more as he looked around for what had caused his vessel damage. Popeye squinted and then spotted it: a massive galleon, the only one around for miles.

“Why those no good, stinkin’ pirates! I needs to teach ‘em a lesson they won’ts forget!” Popeye growled, then dove into the sea and swam towards the ship.

Back on the Thousand Sunny, Luffy nodded with satisfaction. “Good. I hated those guys.”

“Wha?! You didn’t even know them!” Nami snapped, trying not to scream at her captain. Sometimes what went through his mind was beyond any of his crew.

Something tapped him on the shoulder and Luffy turned around…only to have a fist nail him in the chin. The resulting impact sent him careening into the air and he sailed in a massive arc to land with a “thud” and a dust cloud on an island off in the distance.

“Don’t get yer hopes up, kid, ‘cuz I ain’t through with ya!” Popeye added, then dove back into the sea and swam after him.

Nami was shocked at what she had seen. She had been through some crazy stuff, but this was new even to her.

(meanwhile…)

Luffy pulled himself out of the sandy shore of the island and looked around. “Where am I? And what just happened? Last thing I remember is this fist coming into my face…”

“Hey! You!”

Luffy turned to see Popeye storming towards him, stopping a few yards away, his fists clenched. Not quite sure what to make of this guy, Luffy tilted his head to the side curiously.

“Who are you?” the Straw-Hat captain asked.

“I’m Popeye the Sailor man.” Popeye answered, tooting his pipe like a whistle twice, then asked, “Who are you?”

“My name is Luffy, and I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates.” Luffy answered with a smile.

“Pirate,huh?Guessitmakessensewhyhesunkmyboat…” Popeye muttered (without even moving his lips at that), then returned to his normal voice, “Well, for wreckin’ my boat, I gotta hurt ya, kid.”

“You wanna fight?” Luffy asked, then put up a fist and smiled again, “Well, bring it on! I don’t plan on dying today!”

“Bring it on, ya little squirt! It’s time for me to roughs ya up!” Popeye said, hunching forward ready for battle.

The time had come for a showdown for the world’s most powerful pirate and the most powerful sailor: a battle to determine the King of the Seas.

FIGHT!

“Gum-Gum…” Luffy pulled back a fist, then threw it at Popeye on an elongated arm, “Pistol!”

The fist flew forward like a bullet and Popeye only just managed to sidestep it. As Luffy retracted his arm, Popeye actually followed it, pulled back a fist of his own and slammed it into Luffy’s visage.

Luffy’s neck stretched backward, taking his head with it and snapped back into place…only to meet Popeye’s fist yet again, resulting in the same event again, and again, and again in a comedic fashion.

Luffy had had enough and, the next time his head stretched back on his neck, he saw a nearby palm tree, opened his mouth, and latched his teeth into its bark. After a moment of tension, in which Popeye wondered just why Luffy’s head wasn’t coming back for a good “biffin’ and boffin’” as he put it, Luffy’s body shot backward so fast that it seemed to teleport.

Luffy let the recoil of his body returning wear off, then launched his rubbery fist at Popeye again. Popeye evaded yet again, but this was not Luffy’s intention. He actually opened his hand to latch onto a boulder behind Popeye, pulled himself back a bit, then let go.

“Gum-Gum…” Luffy said, extending his free arm, “SICKLE!” Popeye’s eyes widened as Luffy’s arm slammed into his neck at high speed, sending Popeye into the rock behind him.

Popeye hit the rock with enough force to leave an imprint of himself, yet the groan he emitted as he peeled off it gave an indication that he survived. Luffy was not going to let up, though, and latched onto Popeye, his rubbery arms and legs wrapping around the cockeyed sailor’s limbs.

“Gum-Gum…” Luffy said, pulling back his head, stretching his elastic neck to gain momentum, “BELL!”

Moments before Luffy’s head rocketed back, Popeye had an idea. He pulled back his own head (not as far as Luffy’s, though) and the two craniums collided. The vibrations form the impact coursed through both of their bodies and, while Luffy didn’t complain in the slightest, all Popeye did was grumble at the pain…and showed no sign of injury.

“Okay, ya little runt, how’s about I heat things up?” Popeye said, then turned his corncob pipe upside down, took a deep breath, then blew into the pipe.

Rather than emit a huge cloud of smoke, the corncob pipe emitted a small flame akin to a welding torch. The flame jetted out, striking Luffy right on the shirt. The part that was struck quickly burst into flame and Luffy, with a yelp, sprang off and began trying to put it out.

Popeye shook himself loose, then charged Luffy and sprang into the unlikeliest place one would imagine: right under Luffy’s shirt…where he seemed to disappear. Luffy stared, wide-eyed, at what the sailor accomplished and searched under his article of clothing wildly for his opponent, yet he was nowhere to be seen.

Tap, tap…

Luffy turned to his right, feeling someone tap him on the shoulder…and was met with a fist to his face from a familiar, anchor-tattooed arm. Mentioned arm then retreated back to where it came from: just under the right part of his collar. Luffy grabbed at it, but only found empty space. Yet, as he pulled back after grabbing thin air, the same muscular arm popped out from under his sleeve and pinched his nose, as though honking a bike horn.

After a split-second of surprise, Luffy quickly got the idea and grabbed the arm. “A-ha! I gotcha!” he exclaimed in triumph.

“Oh, no ya don’t.” Popeye replied from inside Luffy’s shirt, “I’ve got YOU.”

Luffy raised a brow, then attempted to pull the legendary sailor out of his shirt. One could imagine his shock, though, when he stopped for a second and an even stronger force pulled his arm further down his shirt. Luffy gritted his teeth and pulled with all his might, yet couldn’t dislodge Popeye.

Luffy’s straining halted when, suddenly, he lost his grip on Popeye’s wrist like he was holding a greased eel and, comically, fell flat out on his back from the change of force. Popeye hopped out, then prepared to sock it to Luffy from above only to see his rubbery adversary roll backward and stretch both his arms behind him.

“Gum-Gum…BAZOOKA!”

At the peak of their back-stretch, both of Luffy’s hands sprang forward and slammed into Popeye’s midsection. The sailor bent forward, the wind getting blasted from his lungs, then rocketed backward into the lightly-wooded area further inland.

Popeye landed, noggin-first, into the trunk of a palm tree then fell to the ground like a plank of wood being dropped. He picked himself up, then jumped slightly as a pair of hands grabbed a pair of trees not far from him.

“Gum-Gum ROCKET!!!”

Popeye wound up a punch just as the arms retracted, slinging Luffy at Popeye like a bullet. Before Luffy came too close, a fist planted itself firmly into his chin. Luffy flew up in an arc before falling back to the ground, his still-elongated arms comically falling onto him in a rubbery heap.

Luffy freed himself of the tangled mess of his arms, then pulled back his right leg like he was ready to kick a soccer ball. “Gum-Gum STAMP!” When Luffy threw his leg forward, everything from the calf down extended forward like a spear, Luffy’s sandal-clad foot nailing Popeye right in the chest.

Popeye’s back slammed into a rock and, when he looked down, he saw a very distinctive footprint in his chest. After mumbling something about how expensive it would be to get removed, he jumped into the air and came back down, spinning in a reverse-pirouette to drill into the ground below him.

Luffy stared, wide-eyed in wonder, at what Popeye had just accomplished. “WOW! What kind of fruit did he eat?” he asked in astonishment.
Luffy felt something coming, then hopped out of the way just as Popeye burst from the ground beneath him. Popeye’s fist hit air as he sprang out, leaving him open.

“Gum-Gum SHOTGUN!” Luffy said, throwing out a fist, then twanging it. It looked like multiple fists had struck from just one arm.

Popeye merely reached out and seized Luffy around the wrist, halting the twanging. “You’re a slick one, rubber-boy, but let’s have us a little fun now.” With that said, Popeye raised Luffy’s arm, then brought it sharply back down like a whip, sending a wave right down the length of the arm.

The resulting force flipped Luffy on his back with a yelp in surprise. The next moment, he was tugged right at Popeye, who proceeded to twirl Luffy around like a lasso (even going to the liberty of performing a few tricks worthy of wild-west cowboys) and tossing him away.

Luffy landed, cat-footed, on his feet and made the conclusion that, in his current condition, he wasn’t going to win. He closed his eyes in focus, then snapped them open as steam began to flow from his legs. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Popeye and before the mighty sailor could comprehend it.

“Gum-Gum Jet Stamp!”

Popeye rocketed backward, his eyes not even catching just what had happened. All he knew was that he felt like he had been hit full in the chest by a charging train. As he tumbled to a halt, he only had time to get up before he caught sight of something.

His corncob pipe almost fell out of his mouth as a giant fist, comparable in size to a massive tree trunk, raised itself high into the air. “Gum-Gum GIANT PISTOL!”

Popeye yelped in surprise, then ran as fast as he could to the side just as the giant fist flew at him. The fist smashed through the ground like it was cheap glass, then retracted. Popeye took quick advantage of his opponent’s need to retract and, as the giant arm deflated and retracted back to its owner, Popeye held on tightly, hitching a ride to his rubbery opponent.

Popeye hopped off the appendage as soon as Luffy was in sight, then threw a flurry of punches at Luffy. Much to his frustration, Luffy sidestepped each attack as if he knew it was coming.

Luffy decided to put an end to Popeye’s assault and shouted, “Gum-Gum BALLOON!” With that, Luffy’s entire torso inflated into a giant, flesh-colored ball. The minute Popeye’s fist made contact with it, it bounced off. The recoil sent Popeye stumbling backward, and Luffy seized his chance.

“Gum-Gum JET GATLING!” Luffy leaned forward and his arms were suddenly a blur that began to pummel Popeye, who could only put up his arms to shield himself…if only a little bit.

“I can’t stands no more!” Popeye managed to get out before the punches broke past his defense and sent him flying backward.

Popeye skidded to a halt and now knew that, if there ever was a situation for his trump card, that situation was “NOW”. “Alright, you got a few circus acts. Guess what? I gots a few, too.” Popeye said, ready to meet this challenge with one of his own.

Popeye reached into his abnormally-deep pants pocket and pulled out a large tin can labeled “Spinach”. He gave the can a good squeeze until it burst open at the top, its green contents flying into the air. It came back down right into Popeye’s gaping mouth.

After munching down on the spinach for a brief moment, Popeye swallowed and the effects of eating his greens were instantaneous. His whole body flowed with a new energy and he flexed his muscle, forcing a bicep up to preposterous levels.

As for the metaphorical image you see in that muscle every time Popeye eats spinach? It was Goku firing off a Kamehameha.

Anyhoo, Popeye saw a pair of hands had reached just behind him and seize two trees behind him and had a good idea as to what was coming. He braced himself, his whole body composition morphing to resemble a Popeye statue made entirely of brick.

“Gum-Gum Jet Rocket!”

Luffy collided with Popeye at sonic-speeds, intent on finishing him off here and now with a powerful headbutt. One could imagine his surprise when, rather than send Popeye into agony and/or death, he ricocheted off with a bell-like “dong”. Popeye seemed completely unscathed while Luffy lay on his back, clutching his now-aching skull.

It was truly odd to him. Most of Popeye’s previous blows hadn’t even hurt him at all, yet he just now withstood one of Luffy’s stronger attacks AND did something that managed to hurt him.

Luffy roared back to his feet and unleashed another “Gum-Gum Jet Gatling” on Popeye, hoping to pummel him again. Popeye’s response was to wind up both of his fists and actually MIRROR him. The sailor man’s fists were now also blurs and met Luffy fist-for-fist.

Luffy, now really starting to get ticked that this guy was matching him, pulled back his fists and called off the attack. He then twisted his right arm like a corkscrew and shouted “Gum-Gum JET RIFLE!”

The Jet Rifle flew at Popeye…who merely reached up and caught his fist without wavering. The energy behind the arm’s now-spiraling form was suddenly released, resulting in Luffy spinning around like a propeller before sailing off to his right when Popeye let go.

Luffy landed on his feet, then forced as much air into his arms as he could. “Gum-Gum GIANT GATLING!”

Popeye put both of his thumbs in his mouth, took a deep breath, then actually mirrored Luffy again. In seconds, both his anchor-tattooed arms were the same size as Luffy’s. Again, Popeye had the Strawhat Captain matched move-for-move.

Then Popeye opened one of his hands and caught Luffy’s own by the wrist. With a “flick”, Luffy was catapulted high into the air before slamming back down on the ground. Next thing he knew, he was jerked towards Popeye and before he could put up any adequate defense, Popeye’s other gigantic fist slammed into him.

The resulting impact sent Luffy tumbling across the ground, skidding to a halt on a sandy beach. If his Gears wouldn’t work, then he’d have to use his ultimate techniques. It was time for using some Armament Haki.

Luffy stretched back an arm, the area from his fist down to his forearm turning the color of a cannonball, then shouted “Gum-Gum BULLET!”

Both of Popeye’s eyes widened as a pitch-black fist slammed into his visage, sending him rocketing into the air. Yet, as Popeye flew above the treetops, he was readying a counterattack. He twirled his pipe around until it faced his feet, took a deep breath, then exhaled out his smoking utensil as hard as he could.

A jet of flame erupted from the rather small object and, within seconds, Popeye had halted his backward-going momentum and flew forward like a rocket. Luffy shrieked in surprise as Popeye came at him with a barrage of punches to the pirate’s face. Normally, this would be no threat, but the Observation Haki seemed oddly ineffective. This was because of Luffy being completely caught by surprise and the fact that Popeye (and every punch he threw) was, somehow, moving far too fast for that particular form to be effective. Worse still, just like the last time, Popeye was somehow managing to hurt Luffy with pure blunt force alone…without Haki, no less.

Popeye only halted his barrage of punches only to sock Luffy full into the air with a sharp uppercut. While waiting for Luffy to come down, Popeye took his right wrist in his left hand and twisted his whole arm until it resembled a large piece of rope. Then, as Luffy came down, he slammed it into the pirate captain’s midsection, pinning Luffy to a tree. As an added effect, his twisted arm untwisted, spinning Luffy fast enough to buff the bark off the tree…and eventually splinter it under the force.

Luffy hit the ground, but was back on his feet, fuming with rage. “Gum-Gum…” Luffy’s fist grew to giant proportions yet again, only this time it was pitch-black with the Armament Haki, “ELEPHANT PISTOL!” With that exclamation, Luffy threw his fist forward. He'd like to see the anchor-armed sailor top THIS.

Popeye spotted the giant, obsidian hand coming at him like a gigantic cannonball, ready to blow him away, yet did not attempt to move out of the way in the slightest. He wound up a fist, spinning it fast enough that it could have been a propeller. When he was fully wound up, and Luffy’s fist was inches away from splattering him all over the island, Popeye launched his fist forward, making contact with the black surface.

A tremor went down the entire length of the arm and, for a split second, nothing appeared to have happened. Then the black surface of the arm actually cracked like an eggshell. Just a few appeared at first, then it spread and spread quickly until the Armament Haki literally shattered like glass.

The force of the impact jarred Luffy to the point that he fell on his seat. He then charged Popeye, his legs pumping him as fast as he could go. As he ran, he stretched an arm behind him that started out pitch-black, but quickly turned bright gold before being completely engulfed in flames.

“Gum-Gum REDHAWK!”

Too late.  Popeye spotted him, saw his flaming appendage, then took a deep breath and blew as hard as he could. The resulting flow of air was comparable to a hurricane wind…if it was much, MUCH stronger. Not only did the winds slow Luffy to a crawl, they also extinguished the fire on his arm like he was blowing out a birthday candle.

“Yes,birthdaywishesandall.Timetofinishyaoff,squirt.” Popeye grumbled, then socked the oncoming boy in the chin again, sending him up into the air once more.

This time, he made sure this would be the last time.

When Popeye spotted Luffy coming back down, he dug his fingers into the ground and pulled as hard as he could. At first glance, one would think that he was going to pull open a crevice in the ground.

WRONG.

Popeye pulled and pulled when, with a paper-like ripping sound, the very page you are reading this fight on tore right across the page. “Let’s see ya come back from THIS, ‘soon-to-be King of Pirates’.”

Luffy was just coming back down when he spotted oblivion awaiting him where he intended to land. He yelped as he fell down the crevice, then reached up with an elongated arm and just grabbed the edge of the tear.

Popeye spotted him and emitted a disgruntled growl, but then rubbed his hands together as an idea came to him. “Oh, look! Piggies!”

Popeye walked over to Luffy’s fingers, then wedged his thumb under his index finger. “This little piggy went to market…” With a “twang”, he pried the finger loose and Luffy’s eyes widened.

“Gum-Gum Pistol!” Luffy shot his other arm in an attempt to dislodge Popeye or get another grip to help himself up.

“Quit it, ya little whelp!” Popeye said, casually swatting the rubbery limb away, “I’m tryin’ to count piggies! This little piggy stayed home…” He pried Luffy’s middle finger loose.

“Gum-Gum Rocket!” Luffy said, his arm retracting, ready to spring him up and headbutt the cockeyed sailor…only to be met with the same fate as his hand.

“I said ‘cut it out’!” Popeye said, grouchily, socking Luffy back down to dangle from his last two fingers. “THIS little piggy had roast beef…” Luffy was now dangling from his pinky and could only watch in horror as Popeye said the last six words he would ever hear.

“And this little piggy had NONE.”

Popeye dislodged Luffy’s final finger and the captain of the Strawhat Pirates fell off the page into the whiteness of oblivion. His screams died down as he fell…forever.

“Hey, author! Stop bein’ so grim!” Popeye shouted, “And patch this up, will ya?”

Oh! Certainly!

At that point, a human hand with a sewing needle and thread went to work. Within a few seconds, it had patched up the page. To make sure it was safe, Popeye set foot on it: sturdy as a rock.

Popeye sighed in relief, then dove into the water. A brief moment later, he had hauled the entire wreckage of his boat out of the water and set to work repairing it.

K.O.!!!

--

Steel: (pause) What the heck did I just see?

Ray: I’m not entirely sure, but at least we have a winner. While Luffy is, without a doubt, one of the strongest people to have ever taken to the sea, Popeye’s savvy, cartoon-level durability, and spinach ultimately triumphed.

Steel: Luffy would not likely make the connection of Popeye’s strength and spinach (even if he DOES sing it in his song) because Popeye saves it as a last resort. Plus, the entire thing played out like a Popeye cartoon.

Ray: Luffy would make short work of Popeye when he was in base form, Gears Second and Third and his Haki would ensure that. However, when Popeye ate his spinach, his strength, speed, durability, and powers exceed that of ANY One Piece character.

Steel: How do those stats hold up? For starters, Popeye was strong enough to move the entire EARTH, which (as “Goku vs. Superman” stated) means he can lift up to 6.6 quintillion tons, exceeding just about ANY of Luffy’s feats of strength. Taking into consideration that Armament Haki can be broken with enough force, this means that Popeye is MORE than strong enough to break through it.

Ray: Popeye also once flew from the moon to Earth in under five seconds. This means that his top speed is at least Mach 13, but it IS likely that he can go faster; fast enough to fight past the effects of Observation Haki. Popeye has also dealt with supernatural entities, like ghosts and genies, so the Devil Fruits would likely mean nothing to him when spinach-fueled.

Steel: And before you bring up the Conqueror’s Haki, Popeye has both a strong will and a power level equal to, or greater than, that of Luffy’s. Crack your own Dragonball Z joke here.

Ray: Now, we can argue about feats of strength, speed, and all that. In the end, it cannot decide what either Luffy or Popeye are capable of. They’re both great heroes known for getting out of dire situations with their fists alone. The difference is their character. Luffy is not, has not, and never will be invincible. He has limits, obvious weaknesses, and his story is partly him overcoming the problems to make himself stronger. Meanwhile, Popeye’s is different. When a situation is dire, he uses something to make him capable of doing whatever needs to be done. In short, Popeye is as strong as he needs to be.

Steel: Going “Goku vs. Superman” again?

Ray: What? Look at it and tell me if it isn’t similar.

Steel: I-(pause) Wow…you’re right.

Ray: So, what happens when you pit a guy known for pushing his limits against a guy who has no real limit as to what he can or can’t do? Well, only Luffy has limits to begin with.

Steel: It was a good fight, but victory was just too much of a stretch even for Luffy. Now let's prepare to clean our inbox of all the nasty e-mails we're, undoubtedly, going to get from the One Piece fans...

Ray: The winner is Popeye.

LUFFY…
+More than powerful enough to match Popeye in base form
+Harder to hurt as a whole
+Haki and Gears are formidable
-More exploitable weaknesses
-Even at best, cannot match spinach-fueled Popeye
-Sometimes reliant on crew/friends in dire situations (I stress the term “sometimes”)

POPEYE…
+A force to be reckoned with, even in base form
+Just plain hard to kill
+No truly-debilitating weaknesses to be taken advantage of
+Spinach…need I say more?
+Achieves the impossible on a day-to-day basis
+More used to getting himself out of situations
     Some would call me crazy. How could that be?Those people had it coming! Why? Because of how the looked at me!

     The first one was a mistake, yes. Yes, a mistake. She looked at me like I was some, some animal! So, I pushed her. And down she descended, down the stairs of an empty hall.

     But, something happened! I got a feeling, one that had been missing most my life. Bliss, that I could control someone else's life in my very own hands! Watch the fire go out of their eyes! Oh, and how much joy their screams have brought me! Ha! They all deserved it!

     How could you call me a monster? If anything, I am an angel!
     Art is what it is. All the ways I have killed. Drowning, cutting their hearts out while it still beats, cutting off their fingers as they scream. The last two are my favorite.

     Best of all is the fame! Every night they talk about my murders! My works of God! They hope to find. Ha! I was careful, so careful not to leave any trace.
How petty life is. How easily sdestroyed it is.

     Do you still think of me as a monster?
I wrote this in creative writing club today. The prompt was violence and one of the scenarios was : Serial Killer.
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Leeds is the first awake.  Shadows of his dreams still echo in his eyes when he paces into the kitchen and startles her.

"Sorry."

"You're too quiet."  She smiles.  

He doesn't.  "Did you sleep?"

"I couldn't," she says.

He just nods.  She pours him coffee.  He drowns it in milk and sugar.  They welcome the morning in companionable silence.

"I wanted to be there for him."  It's a whisper.  He stares at the coffee mug in his hands, seeing something very different.  "I saw him get hit.  I wanted to be there so bad.  I would have gone in, but Vance held me back.  Probably saved my life.

"Zack."  He stops, almost overwhelmed, then forces himself to go on.  "I would do anything for him.  I would die for him.  But I couldn't be there."  His eyes are rimmed with tears.

She lays her hand over his.

Leeds wipes his face.  "I know you didn't want him to go for the second tour."

She shakes her head.  "It was his choice.  I respect that.  I love him.  I couldn't keep him home.  It meant so much to him."

"Thank you."  The tears escape anyway, and slide down over the scar and stubble on his face.  "Thanks for letting him come with us again.  I'm sorry I couldn't bring him home."

"It's not your fault."

"Maybe not.  But it feels like…"  He falls silent.  He's the same age as Zack, twenty-two, almost twenty-three.  Same strong shoulders and narrow chest, flat stomach, straight hips.  His arms are all muscle and sinew, skin deep tan from months in the desert.  His dogtags rest lightly against his drab green tshirt.  Unconsciously she reaches to the chain around her own neck, Zack's dogtags, which she has worn since he first graduated boot camp.

Leeds scrubs his face again, and this time, he stifles the crying.  He lays a dirty white envelope on the table and slides it across to her.  She starts to reach out, but he keeps his hand over it.  "Chia... You know what this is."

She realizes in that moment.  It chills her.  She nods, not trusting her voice.

"I think you should wait," Leeds says.

The first thing she feels at his words is relief.  She can put it off!  She doesn't have to confront this now.  She feels sick with guilt after that.  She feels the heat in her cheeks as she blushes with shame.

"I know," he tells her.  "It fuckin' hurts.  You can wait.  Wait until you're ready."

She can only nod again.  Brandon withdraws his hand, leaving the crumpled envelope lying there .  It is thin and plain, unassuming, but it might as well be a bomb.  There are faint, smudgy fingerprints on the front.  Zack's fingerprints she thinks, and feels her heart fist, her guts go icy and knotted.  She nearly breaks down.  Her eyes sting, her throat aches.

She slides it off the table into her lap so she doesn't have to look at it for the moment.  It is light – too light and thin to carry so much import.



She puts the letter into the footlocker at the foot of the bed.  Into this she has already placed Zack's dusty uniform, his boots, and gloves, his watch, a pair of sunglasses etched by sand.  Kits, and papers, a couple of journals, dog-eared manuals, and photos.  The things he had in his pockets when he died; a gum wrapper, spare change in several currencies, a stone, three spent brass bullet casings, a safety pin, a new pair of bootlaces, a pack of cigarettes, a die-cast Matchbox car with most of the paint worn off, a stub of pencil, a soft-cover notebook he'd reinforced with duct tape.  His wallet has no money in it, only more photos, and a video-rental membership card; a frequent buyer's card from their local bagel shop with eight of the ten punches filled up; a few postage stamps, already obsolete; a scrap of paper with international phone numbers written in pencil.

On top of this pile rests the tri-folded flag.  She came home from the funeral and the flag went straight into the footlocker.  The unread letter drops like a dry leaf on top of the flag.  She shuts the lid and breathes a sigh.  It is like relief.


Direct continuation of Requiem: Continued

Once again, this is a work of fiction.
For those who don't know the "death letter" is written by most service members before entering combat to be delivered to their next of kin in the event of their death. These letters are meant to be collected and held by the command element, but they are often entrusted to comrades in arms.

:bulletred: Any feedback is much appreciated.

© *KreepingSpawn
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Female Russia X Male Reader

You are now running away from Anya who kept screaming you name _______!!!!!!1
Let's become one she shouted 'as she run behind you'
Nooo! I don't want too 'you look at her as you runs again'
But you must Because  if you wont I will hit you with my metal pipe 'she said'
that makes you scared to her you run as fast as you can,then you reach your room.You lock the room and hide under you covers.

Oh my gosh she's really scary 'you mumbled'

Load know from the door was heard _____!!! Let's become one I said come one now.

Nooo I wont become one with you 'you look at your hand'

But i thought you like me 'she whispers' She then stop scratching your door

It's true you really like her,her silver platinum long hair and her heavenly scent of sun flower.Her voice who is like an angel.But what is the reason why can't you become one with her? you ask yourself. You closed your eyes and remember things.

She really do like you a lot,even though it's kinda creepy but the thing is she ask other big nations too to become one with her,America,Canada,China,Hong Kong,Austria and more.it makes you sad that if you will become one with her you would have to share her with others. You curled your self under the cover of your bed.You can hear your heart beating fast. You wanted to cry you want her so badly you wanted her to be yours.But you cant get off the thought you will have to share her with others.You then fell asleep with tears in your eyes.
 
Time Skip
It was already night,and you woke up from your sleep you realized you haven't eaten dinner.you walk down to the kitchen to fetch something. Suddenly you heard someone Crying a soft yet sweet voice crying. You lean over to see a door slightly open.it was Anya's room,you took the courage to take a glimpse inside. There you saw her Anya with her pink cheek she was crying hard. she even choked few times,your heart sunk into your chest to see the love of your life cry like that. She then softly said

I love you _____!!! why can't you see I wanted you so bad to be mine.I dont want anyone only you i want ______!!!
She cried softly,You felt Hot on your face she was in love with you and only you,she wanted you so much and she really do likes you. You couldn't believe what you just heard.You walk into her room and hug her,She was shocked

_____!!! what are you doing here? 'she whisper barely audible'

I..I...I...Love you Anya ' you shouted in her face' you face is burning

her eyes was watery and full of joy,you wipe her tear away. and she smile at you.
you hug her tight,I love you so much Anya,you felt her hand slip under you shirt.you look at her with a blush. her hand was cold as ice you you melted them with your hot warm body.She draw close to you you felt a little scared. You decided to give in.You put your hands on her face she was shocked and you pull her into a deep kiss. She was soft and warm you wrap your arms around her and and she put her arm around you neck.
you both break the kiss for hair both of you are panting hard and you lean in the crook of her neck. you whispers

Will you now become one with me 'you ask her'

'she nodded softly and blush like tomatoes'

You pull her close and lock your mouth with each other.

-You had one best night of becoming one-

Extended  Ending
You woke up in early morning feeling the hot breath of your lover,you stroke her platinum hair from her face and kiss her now that makes her wiggle. she then open er eyes to see you (E/c) looking at her.She smiled at you and peck you lips.

good morning Love 'she said'
Good morning too 'you replied'

When Suddenly The door Flew open,With an angry Belarusian on the Door (Nikolai)
He looks at you and grins at you.

Why Did you took my Lovely Anya from me 'he shouted'
Anya Hug ______ and shouted
Nikolia me and ______!! are now one, if you hurt him,you will hurt me too, and Ill make sure that I will hate you forever if you hurt ______,so dont hurt my lover.

Stunned The Male Belarusian walks out the door and shut it.
You then look at Anya ad she hugs yous. She then lean into your ear and whisper

Now can we have morning gift? she pinned you down and yah there goes you becoming in the morning XD
Become one? So yah here's what i think Abotu becoming one with Nyo Russia Sure she is really cute when she cry.Please do comment for cristics i wanted to improvemy writtings and all:D feel free to comment and to fave also to ask fro request :D I would be happy to make your reequest and all. so Da my little sunflower will you become one with mother russia?

i dotn own hetali/Russia/nor you
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