#adding bit of purple was the greatest decision ever

[evilvvithin]

HALLOWEEN john carpenter, 1978

[engie-ivy]

Marlene’s little brother has a thing for Sirius, because who doesn't have a thing for Sirius? Marlene is freaking out, and everyone thinks it's just hilarious. Remus would've thought it was hilarious too, had Marlene’s little brother not been very close in age, cute, witty, and oh so bloody charming.

Somewhat longer fic that will be added to my Crush Confessions Series! 3756 words, so not that long. Wolfstar Fluff, of course😎

Muggle Charms

James Potter’s garden party is the event of the summer. Everyone gets together at the Potter estate for a day of listening to music, swimming in the lake (yes, there’s a lake on the grounds of the Potter estate), and playing friendly Quidditch matches. Mrs Potter walks around with all sorts of delicious foods, James and Sirius fly their brooms above the lake and make bets who dares to jump off from the greatest height, Mary and Emmeline are sunbathing and make bets who will need to be healed first.

It had started the summer after first year with just the four Marauders, but every year, their number has grown, and this year is the largest group thus far.

Marlene McKinnon is last to arrive, and, as usual, her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Everyone, come meet my little brother!” She shouts across the field.

The McKinnons have four children. Marlene’s mother and two of her siblings are Muggles, while the rest have magical abilities. Marlene’s sister is the oldest of the siblings. She’s a Muggle who works as a primary school teacher. Despite growing up with a father who’s a wizard, she has always felt slightly uncomfortable around magic, but she loves her family fiercely and is very protective over her younger siblings. As she’s much older than Marlene, she has always been more like a second mother.

Next comes Marlene’s older brother, who’s wizard, but has finished Hogwarts long ago. He now works in the Sales Department for a company that develops novel potions against levitation- and portkey-sickness. According to Marlene he’s a serious businessman by day, and a giant goofball by night.

Last is Marlene’s younger brother. He’s a Muggle, but where Marlene’s sister likes to pretend magic doesn’t exist, he thinks it mighty fascinating. He and Marlene are incredibly close, writing each other constantly and hanging out as often as they can when Marlene was home from Hogwarts. She has never brought him to James’ garden party, though. He works in the Food Service Industry, and the bright summer days on which James plans his parties are the days on which he most likely has to work. This year, however, he had managed to get the day off.

The first thing Remus thinks is that the McKinnons have good genes. He can’t really tell which of the two siblings is older, which means they must be very close in age. The boy has the same thick, blond hair and bright blue eyes as Marlene, as well as the same freckles from the sun. He’s short for a guy, barely taller than Marlene, but he’s quite muscular, with broad shoulders. All in all, Marlene’s younger brother is a very cute guy.

“Everyone, this is Miles!” Marlene says, when everyone has gathered around. “Let’s see... Here we have James Potter, he’s the host.”

Miles grins at James. “Some house you’ve got here, mate. Thanks for having me!”

James grins back and lifts his beer. “Cheers, mate!”

“James is Lily’s boyfriend,” Marlene says. “You’ve already met Lily-” Miles gives Lily a warm smile “-and of course you know Dorcas.”

“Hullo Dorky.”

“Hiya Miley.”

“And here we have my other girls, Alice Fortescue, Mary McDonald and Emmeline Vance.” Marlene points each of the girls out, and Miles gives them all a friendly nod.

“And these two are the Prewetts, Fabian and Gideon- don’t worry about who’s who, none of us actually knows.”

“Oi!”

“And this is Caradoc Dearborn, and this Benjy Fenwick, so miraculously you’re not the shortest guy here.”

“Marlene!”

“And here we have the rest of the renegades, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.”

The chance in Miles is instant.

The polite smile he was wearing turns into a coy smile, as he gives Sirius a not-so-subtle once-over, though Remus doesn’t think it was ever meant to be subtle. Miles takes a step forward towards Sirius. “Well, hello there.”

Remus can’t blame him. He would’ve reacted the same had he been in Miles’ position (alright, maybe he would’ve turned into a blushing, stuttering mess and forget his own name if he were suddenly faced with a guy like Sirius, instead of step forward with an enticing smile and flirtatious greeting, but that’s beside the point). Sirius looks bloody amazing. His swimming trunks are clinging to his legs, and his damp hair is hanging over his bare chest, with little droplets dripping down his muscular body.

Sirius grins knowingly at Miles. “Hi.”

Marlene’s head whirls around from Miles to Sirius to Miles and back to Sirius, so fast Remus worries she might get a whiplash.

“No,” she says. “No, nope, uh-uh, absolutely not. Not. Happening. No.”

She steps between her brother and Sirius, facing the latter, and jabbing a finger against his chest. “You are not going to try anything on my little brother, got it?”

Sirius holds up his hands and takes a step back. “I only said hi.”

Marlene looks at him suspiciously, like she suspects Sirius saying hi is some sort of secret seduction technique (which would actually explain a lot).

“C’mon Marls.” Miles moves to stand next to his sister, and throws an arm over her shoulder. He winks at Sirius. “We all just want to have a good time, don’t we?”

Marlene’s face is getting more red by the second. Her fingers are clutching her cardboard plate, causing it to rumple. She’s clenching her jaw, while intently staring at the pair a bit further on the field.

“I can’t bloody believe it,” she hisses. “If Black thinks I’ll let him hook up with my little brother, he has another thing coming!”

Miles had managed to catch Sirius when he went to grab a drink, and they have been chatting apart from the rest of the group for about half an hour now, to Marlene’s great distress, and everyone else’s amusement. Well, everyone else except for Remus, but he thinks he’s been hiding it quite well.

Remus doesn’t know how the guy does it, but Miles somehow manages to stand closer and closer to Sirius. He’s looking up at him through his lashes, with those big blue eyes and that damned smile, sometimes even going as far as to bite his lip. Sirius has definitely been blushing at some point!

While Remus is the only one who can emphasize with Marlene’s distress over the situation, he really doesn’t like how she’s blaming it all on Sirius, while evidently its her brother who’s acting like a little minx.

“Honestly, Marlene,” Lily says, shaking her head. “Didn’t you talk to Miles about there being an incredibly hot, single gay guy present?”

Remus agrees. Marlene should’ve known what would happen when she decided to introduce her brother to Sirius! You cannot bring him here knowing Sirius is looking like he does, and expect him not to react!

Marlene huffs indignantly. “My little brother is a precious angel who’s not interested in such a thing as ‘hot, single men’!”

Lily looks at Miles and Sirius. Miles seems to be laughing at something Sirius said, and touches his upper arm while doing so, letting his hand slide down Sirius’ bicep. Lily turns her head back to Marlene and raises her eyebrow.

Marlene just folds her arms over her chest and pointedly looks away.

Later, when Miles reaches up to brush a strand of hair from Sirius’ face, Marlene’s face has taken on a more purple colour. By this time, she has started angrily chewing on her cardboard plate.

Luckily, everyone’s too busy making fun of Marlene to notice Remus looks like he’s going to be sick.

Normally, a day at the Potter estate flies by, but Remus is positive this day lasts at least three times as long. But Remus has been getting through it. He hopes that after today, he won’t see Miles McKinnon of ever again. Well, he mostly hopes Sirius won’t see Miles McKinnon ever again, he can admit that . To himself, that is.

Currently, he’s sitting down with James, having a butterbeer. Just when he thinks he might make it through these last hours without further additions to his misery, Marlene comes striding their way, Dorcas on her heels.

“Potter,” she says, stopping in front of them and placing her fists on her hips. “You’ve got something I need, and I want it now!”

“Sorry McKinnon,” James says with a smirk. “I’m a one woman man.”

“In your dreams, you wanker,” Marlene snaps. “You’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, no?”

James takes off his glasses and starts polishing them with his robes. “I may or may not possess such a thing.”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “After seven years of going to school with you, I think I can safely say that you do. Well, I need you to use it. Miles asked Black to take him on a tour around the lake.” She scrunches up her nose. “And you have to follow them so you can report back to me whether Black has kept his paws off of my little brother!”

“More the other way around,” Remus mutters, but Marlene hears and glares at him.

“My sweet and innocent little brother would never do such a thing! He simply... wants to see the surroundings and needs Black for directions.”

Dorcas throws her head back and cackles loudly. “The only directions your ‘sweet and innocent little brother’ is interested in, is the fastest way to get into Sirius Black’s pants!”

Marlene directs a deadly glare at her.

Just when Remus thinks at least Dorcas knows what she’s talking about, she continues. “C’mon Marls, Miles can make his own decisions. Let the boys have some fun!”

Let the boys have some fun? That’s not a good idea! That’s the opposite of a good idea! That’s a terrible idea!

“Well,” Remus says, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “We’re on Mr and Mrs Potter’s property, and Miles has only just been introduced to the gang. I mean, he and Sirius barely know each other. I’d say it’d be rather inappropriate if something happens between them here and now. You don’t want Marlene’s brother to give off the wrong impression.”

James sighs. “What if I lend you the Invisibility Cloak, and you can follow them yourself?”

“Oh, no!” Marlene holds up her hands and takes a step back. “There are certain things I don’t ever want to see my little brother do, or hear my little brother say. If I were to... accidentally stumble upon them, I’d either have to Obliviate myself, or be scarred for life.”

Remus snorts. Not so sure about her brother being so innocent after all, is she?

“Well, Padfoot’s my brother!” James argues.

“Remember when I put in a good word for you with Lily, and finally got her to agree to go on a date with you?” Marlene plays her final card, and effectively.

“Fine!” James puts down his butterbeer and gets up. “Remus, let’s go.”

“What? Me? Why?”

“Because you got me into this, Mr ‘it’d be inappropriate’. And besides, I’ll feel like some perverted Peeping Tom spying on them alone.”

“So better to have two Peeping Toms?” Remus argues, but he knows it’s an argument he’s not going to win.

That’s how Remus finds himself in the place he wants to be least of all, crouched down under the Invisibility Cloak with James, and, after casting a quick Silencio over their footsteps, following on Sirius and Miles on their ‘casual, totally not romantic, definitely not a date’ stroll.

“-and once I’ve gained enough experience, I’d like to come back to London and open my own restaurant!” Miles finishes.

“That’s amazing, Miles!” Sirius exclaims. “I’ll definitely frequent!”

“As long as you don’t expect any free food just because you’re so handsome,” Miles teases.

Sirius gasps in pretend-shock. “I would never use my looks for such purposes!”

“Right,” Miles chuckles. “You be careful, Sirius Black. A face like yours is a powerful weapon.”

“Wow,” James whispers admiringly. “He’s good!”

Remus grits his teeth. Of bloody course Miles McKinnon is all charming and smooth, chatting Sirius up.

“What about you?” Miles asks. “What are your plans for the future, now that you’re some kind of strong and powerful wizard?”

“I’m starting my Healer training soon!” Sirius beams, and Remus can’t help but smile at the pride in his voice.

“That’s... like a doctor, right?” Miles asks.

“Yeah,” Sirius replies. “But without the cutting people open.” He shudders. “Definitely no cutting people open.”

“Oi!” Miles protests, bumping his shoulder against Sirius. “Doctors cut people open to save lives, you know. They don’t do it for a laugh.”

“I’m sorry!” Sirius quickly says. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s actually very impressive what Muggle doctors can do without magic, and the things they’ve come up with! I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Miles says, glancing at Sirius. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just... I was raised in this really conservative pureblood Wizarding family. I’m always afraid I’ll say something Muggle-phobic without realising.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad, honestly.”

“Good,” Sirius says, relieved. “I’m just... trying to be better.”

Miles smiles softly at him. “Just the fact that you’re trying already makes you better.”

They walk in comfortable silence for a moment, until Miles speaks again. “That must’ve been hard though, growing up in a family like that. Marlene already mentioned you’re living here now. Is that why?”

Sirius nods. “I ran away from home the summer before. Best decision I’ve ever made.” There’s a tightness in his voice, though, and an emotion in his eyes that makes Remus want to run towards him and pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Miles says sincerely. Then he gives Sirius a teasing smile. “Though I must say, it’s a good look on you, the whole ‘sexy rebel’-thing.”

Sirius barks a laugh, and the pained expression slides off his face. “Well, I’m glad my issues at least fit my anaesthetic!”

Remus doesn’t know whether he wants to bless Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile, or whether he wants to curse Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile.

“I bet you love provoking your family, don’t you?” Miles asks.

“That might just be my most favourite pastime,” Sirius replies sincerely.

Suddenly, Miles stops walking, so Sirius stops as well and turns back to face him.

Miles takes a step towards him. “I bet it would really provoke your family if you were to make out with a boy, a Muggle boy at that.”

Sirius swallows and his face slightly flushes. “That... That’ll definitely do the trick, yeah.”

Miles comes even closer, now almost standing chest-to-chest with Sirius, and he tilts his head up and leans in.

James still looks mighty impressed with Miles’ flirting tactics, while Remus wonders if the sound of his heart shattering might give them away.

Suddenly, Sirius steps back. “Wait, stop. I... I can’t.”

Miles looks disappointed, but not too shocked. “Why not?” He asks. Then he jabs his finger against Sirius’ chest, much like his sister did earlier. “And I swear to god, Sirius Black, if it’s because I’m a Muggle you can stick that wand of yours up your-”

“No, no, no!” Sirius quickly says, whilst letting out a breathless laugh. “It’s not you, really, it’s me.”

Miles gives Sirius a stern look, while placing his fists on his hips, making Remus wonder whether they’re sure Marlene and Miles aren’t twins. “If you’re gonna give me that lame excuse, at least elaborate what it is about ‘not me, but you’ that makes you reject me. I mean, I’m not proposing a marriage here!”

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s... someone else. I mean, there’s not really, I don’t have someone else, but I have feelings for someone else. So therefore this-” He gestures between himself and Miles. “Just doesn’t feel right.”

Remus exchanges a look with James, who looks just as stunned as he is by this information.

Miles, though, just folds his arms over his chest and looks at Sirius thoughtfully for a moment. “So, Lupin then?”

Remus freezes. What? Him? Oh no. He’s not sure he can bear to hear Sirius’ denial. ‘Lupin? Remus? No, of course not! What in Godric’s name gave you that idea? Why the hell would I fancy Remus?’

However, Sirius just sighs and looks down at his shoes. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

Remus stares dumbfounded. It’s... true? He feels an eruption of butterflies in his stomach. Well, he always feels some butterflies when he sees Sirius, but now it’s like all those butterflies had babies, and those babies had babies again, creating an immense flutter.

“Nah,” Miles says. “If I had known for sure, I wouldn’t have made a move. I only had a suspicion, but I decided to take a chance anyway. I’m not too surprised by this turn of events, though.”

“It’s really the only reason,” Sirius says. “Because you’re bloody great, you know that? You’re gonna make some guy really happy one day. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Miles groans. “ ‘Its not you, it’s me’, ‘anyone would be lucky to have you’. Shall we go before you start telling me we can still be friends?”

Sirius grins. “Normally I’d suggest we at least pretend to have had a good snog, just to see if Marlene’s face can get any more purple, but I don’t want to give Remus the wrong impression. Not that he’d care,” he adds with a mutter.

Miles stops walking again. “What? Are you seri- No, Marlene warned me not to say that. Really?”

Sirius just blinks at him.

Miles shakes his head. “I mean, you asked if you were being obvious, well, you were nothing compared to Lupin. Although, that could just be me. I couldn’t help but notice when he’s looking at me like he wants me to catch fire every time I come near you. Wait. You wizards can actually do that, can’t you?”

Remus huffs. He wouldn’t have actually set Miles on fire! At least he doesn’t think so.

Sirius frowns at Miles. “You must be mistaken. Remus is nothing but pure kindness! He always makes everyone feel welcome! You can’t help but like Remus!”

A warm feeling spreads through Remus’ chest.

Miles just looks at Sirius, shaking his head. “You’re actually in love, aren’t you?”

Sirius blushes and looks away.

“Well,” Miles says. “You should tell him how you feel. He clearly feels the same. Then you can both stop this pining.”

James, who just had to process the shock of one of his best friends fancying another one of his best friends, now has to process the shock of his best friends fancying each other. He’s staring at Remus, and consequently trips over a rock. He does manage to catch is balance, but he lets out a loud yelp.

Miles stares at the empty spot behind them on the path, surprised, but Sirius’ eyes narrow in suspicion. He lifts his wand, and the next moment a gush of wind blows the Invisibility Cloak off of Remus and James.

To his credit, Miles recovers pretty quickly from seeing two people appear seemingly out of nowhere, including the person they were just talking about. He blinks a couple of times, then says “I suppose this works as well.”

Remus and Sirius are just staring at each other.

“Uhm...” James says. “I was sent here by miss McKinnon to escort the younger McKinnon back to the estate.” Because apparently awkward situations make him talk like he’s an eighteen century nobleman. “Off we go, young lad.”

Miles doesn’t protest when James grabs his arm and starts dragging him away, but he does turn around to give Sirius a thumbs up.

“We were sent here by McKinnon,” Remus quickly says, when he and Sirius are alone. “She wanted to know if anything would happen between you and her brother.” Remus takes a deep breath. “And maybe I wanted to know if anything would happen between you and him myself as well,” he says softly.

“Were you jealous?” Sirius asks. It sounds curious, not angry, judgemental or smug, just curious.

Still, Remus can’t help but pout, and he looks away. “Of course I was jealous. Bloody Miles McKinnon, with his big blue eyes, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at you, and being all cute, and witty, and charming.”

“You know, if you want Miles to snog you instead, you should hurry and you can probably still catch him,” Sirius says irritably.

“No!” Remus quickly says. “No. I just mean, I wish it was me. When he calls you handsome, when he brushes your hair away from your face, when he leans in to kiss you... I wish it was me doing those things.”

“Why don’t you?” Sirius whispers, staring at Remus intently.

“Because!” Remus says desperately. “Because I know how to be your friend, but if I even think about flirting with you, I turn into an awkward, rambling mess.”

The only thing that can possibly be going through Sirius’ mind right now is how the hell he let the sexy, confident, flirtatious boy walk away, to be stuck with the flustered heap of awkwardness that is Remus Lupin.

Remus stares down at his shoes. “I mean, I like you a lot, and also because I feel comfortable around you, I do, but when it comes to flirting, I suddenly get scared that you’ll laugh at me or something. I even think it’d be easier if you weren’t my friend, if we didn’t know each other so well. Then maybe I could-”

Remus stops talking when Sirius gently cups his cheek and tilts his head up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in, giving Remus enough time to pull away had he wanted to. Which, for the record, he absolutely doesn’t. Sirius presses their lips together. And it’s...

Well, it’s not awkward at all.

It’s fireworks, and symphonies, and the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s a sense of belonging, and knowing all is right with the world, and a feeling of coming home.

Both boys are a little out of breath when they pull back, more because of the intense emotions than because the kiss had been that passionate.

“See?” Sirius smiles at Remus. “If I want you to stop rambling, I can always just... interrupt.”

“Rude,” Remus mutters, before pulling Sirius back into another kiss.

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Episode Spotlight: M*A*S*H, Season 1, Episode 17: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet

Frank Burns throws his back out and applies for a Purple Heart.  Meanwhile, Hawkeye Pierce meets, and later operates on, an old friend and struggles with the decision of whether or not to send an underaged soldier home.

More than halfway through season 1, M*A*S*H wasn’t exactly killing in the ratings.  The show wasn’t quite sure of itself yet, with tons of recurring characters that would end up dropped and other characters not yet added to the main cast.  Airing at eight o’clock on Sunday nights, M*A*S*H was, at this stage in the game, a relatively normal sitcom, albeit one with a bit sharper sense of humor.

That all changed with Sometimes You Hear the Bullet.

I’ll show you what I mean.

The episode starts humorously enough: Major Frank Burns throws his back out during a rendezvous with Major Houlihan.  He is placed into traction, where he applies for a Purple Heart for his ‘injury’.  Meanwhile, Hawkeye is visited by an old friend and kindred irreverent spirit: Corporal Tommy Gillis, a journalist who signed up for the front lines as he writes his book: You Never Hear the Bullet, a book meant to be written from a soldier’s point of view, instead of a reporter’s.

A helicopter full of wounded arrive at the unit, and Gillis returns to his post.

Among the wounded is a young man with a burst appendix, a Private Wendell Petersen, who is very anxious to get back to the front lines.  Hawkeye tells him that he has to rest for a few days before returning to his unit.  This doesn’t stop Wendell from attempting to steal an army jeep to try to get back, afraid that he was going to be sent home.

After talking with him, Hawkeye figures out the truth: Wendell Petersen is actually Walter Peterson, and he’s not even sixteen years old.

It turns out that Walter posed as his brother, Wendell, and entered the war to impress his girlfriend back home by returning with a medal.  He begs Hawkeye to keep his secret, and, after returning him to his bed, Hawkeye agrees.

Shortly, more wounded arrive, and among them is Tommy Gillis.  Hawkeye operates on him, but even his best is not enough, and he dies on the operating table after telling Hawkeye that he did hear the bullet.  Hawkeye tries to revive him, but Colonel Henry Blake orders him to move on to save another life.

Afterwards, Hawkeye breaks down crying.

“Henry, I know why I’m crying now. Tommy was my friend, and I watched him die, and I’m crying. I’ve watched guys die almost every day. Why didn’t I ever cry for them?”

“Because you’re a doctor.”

Hawkeye asks what that means, and Henry answers with one of the greatest lines in the show’s history.

“I don’t know. If I had the answer, I’d be at the Mayo Clinic. Does this place look like the Mayo Clinic? Look, all I know is what they taught me at command school. There are certain rules about a war. And rule number one is young men die. And rule number two is, doctors can’t change rule number one.”

Right then and there, Hawkeye decides to change rule number one in some small way, and calls the MPs on Private Wendell, really Walter, outing the fact that he’s underage.  Walter, outraged, tells Hawkeye that he’ll never forgive Hawkeye for the rest of his life.

Hawkeye replies: “Let’s hope it’s a long and healthy hate.”

In one final scene (one that’s usually cut from syndication), Henry Blake begins to present Frank with his Purple Heart, only to find it replaced with a purple earring, while outside, Hawkeye pins the Purple Heart on Walter to make up for turning him in, sending him home, but home a hero.

The end.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet is considered one of M*A*S*H’s best episodes for a reason.  This is an early episode, one that is regarded as a tone and trend setter for the rest of the series in terms of both storyline balance (one or two serious plotlines, one humorous), and content itself, one of the first episodes to sit down and truly explore the characters within this tragic situation.  At this moment, M*A*S*H ceased being a comedy show and became a dramedy, with one of the most memorable moments and exchanges in the show’s long history.

While this episode may seem like a standard half-hour of television, at the time, especially for this show, it was something different.  It was no longer a slapstick grittier Hogan’s Heroesque irreverent comedy about soldiers, it was a show about a group of people stuck in the middle of a war, with death all around them.  And no matter how good Hawkeye, or any of the doctors, are at their jobs, they’ll never be able to save everyone.

It’s sobering, but it’s a truth that the show had, for the first time, truly explored, and it’s that initial exploration, that glimmer of what this show was going to become, that puts this episode under so much recognition: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was the warning sign, the first moment that the writers got a handle on the show that would become a classic.

Of course, it has it’s problems.  

Not tonal ones, at least, not exactly.  Throughout its entire run, M*A*S*H often had two or three plots going, one serious, one humorous.  This is a smart strategy: balance out the dark with the light, giving each episode a more even feeling instead of being too much one or the other.  Although the show would get darker and more serious as time went on, the writers never abandoned this plan, allowing M*A*S*H to remain a consistent dramedy throughout the show’s run, keeping the audience laughing and crying at the same time.

In the case of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, the ‘funny’ subplot is obvious: Frank Burns and his Purple Heart.  The other two storylines are the serious ones: Hawkeye’s friend, as well as the underaged soldier.  However, in most cases, as in this one, these plotlines inevitably intersect, and it’s here that this particular episode might cause a few problems.

I mentioned that the final scene in the episode is typically cut from syndication: the sequence where Frank’s purple heart is stolen and given to the underaged soldier, instead.  While this scene may not, at first, seem inherently out of place within the context of the rest of the episode, swinging from comedy to drama within a minute, there are those who believe that this scene unintentionally undermines the rest of the episode, or the main thrust established a few moments earlier.

And those people aren’t exactly wrong.

I certainly agree that the episode would have been stronger had it ended with the soldier’s final interaction with Hawkeye been proclaiming his hatred, only for Hawkeye to soberly respond that he hopes it’s a long and healthy hate.  Changing that to this new ending, where Hawkeye sends him home with a medal, seems almost out of character for Hawkeye, taking away some of the sincerity and severity of the message just a moment earlier.  The idea that this soldier could bring himself to forgive Hawkeye so soon, before realizing what exactly he’d been saved from, seems a little disingenuous after the weight previously given to this subplot.

In later episodes, it’s possible, even probable that this episode wouldn’t have ended tied in such a neat bow.  But that’s one of the things that’s so interesting about this episode.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet isn’t the first episode of ‘true’ M*A*S*H as it would be remembered in the future, but it is the first episode where M*A*S*H comes into its own themes, looking hard at war, and the toll it takes not only on the soldiers, but on the surgeons, as well.  Before this, for the most part, ‘characters’, friends of the cast, did not die on the operating table.  Not when Hawkeye could save him.

But I’m going to quote Hawkeye from another season 1 M*A*S*H episode, Yankee Doodle Doctor, as I think that it sums up this the point of this episode pretty well:

“Three hours ago, this man was in a battle. Two hours ago, we operated on him. He’s got a 50-50 chance. We win some, we lose some. That’s what it’s all about. No promises. No guaranteed survival. No saints in surgical garb. Our willingness, our experience, our technique are not enough. Guns, and bombs, and anti-personnel mines have more power to take life than we have to preserve it. Not a very happy ending for a movie. But then, no war is a movie.”

That right there is the point of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, to the point where the doomed Tommy Gillis even references the film tropes of a young, fresh-faced kid hearing the bullet that kills him.  This is the message that Hawkeye must grapple with: he cannot save everyone.

No matter how much he knows, how good he is, he can never save everyone.  No guaranteed survival.

It’s sobering, but it’s the truth.  And it’s what makes this episode so memorable.

M*A*S*H at this point was still mostly a comedy, a series full of jokes and the occasional serious moment, and it would continue to be so for another few years.  But it was this episode, episode seventeen of the first season, that signaled to audiences that this show could be more than that.  It could make you laugh, sure, but it could make you cry, and it wasn’t that surprising: this was war.

In short: by itself, is Sometimes You Hear the Bullet one of the greatest episodes of television, or even M*A*S*H, ever written?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  But what it is, without much doubt, is the first sign of maturity in a show that had a lot of growing up to do.

Whether the shift was instantaneous or not, the fact is, Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was a game changer in the show’s history, the first break in format that truly showed audiences what they could expect in the years ahead.

On top of that?  It’s just a good episode.

The plot balance is decent, without too much mood-whiplash that could so easily occur in a war dramedy.  The characters, decently familiar to audiences by now, all work off of each other just as well as ever, funny, interesting, and heartfelt in turn.  It’s an example of early M*A*S*H at it’s best, overshadowing many first season episodes with a level of depth previously mostly unexplored, delivering on every scene and remaining mostly genuine.  It’s an engaging episode, full of memorable moments that are thoughtful and earnest, making this episode a standout, a moment in television history, and an unmissable installment for avid watchers of M*A*SH, and television fans in general.

Don’t forget that the comment box is always open for anything from suggestions and discussion ideas to questions and conversations!  Thank you guys so much for reading, and I hope to see you guys in the next article.

[exaltatuss]

“Ah, I see. I finally get to meet the wife of the King of the Blanchimont Kingdom in the flesh. Truly, this is but the greatest of privileges one would have.”

Disgusting. To think that of all species a Blanchimont could have taken as their spouse, it was a human, and one who stubbornly clung onto her humanity, at that. It almost made her feel rather nauseous.

Though, she would give merit on her achieving Sorceress Supreme status, but that merit ends there.

“... So, you’re the cause of the sudden surges of magic here and there around the kingdom.” There was no doubting that. The feel of such magic matches up, after all. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Lucia did became a guest around here some day ago.

Of course, the obvious ignoring of the mention that she’s Blair’s wife... If one can even call her that still, anyway.

“What are you doing in my workshop, if I may ask?”

“I was supposed to come and give something in return for her hospitality the other day ago. After all, hospitality begets hospitality, a fundamental conduct that Vulpines learn ever since youth! After all, good deeds would lead you to many opportunities. However, it would seem she’s rather busy right now, as per what the people around here had said, so I decided to wait it out. The reason why I ended up here is due to the brief surge of magical energy I’ve felt.” She explained, before then adding “If I may guess, it is caused by a miscalculation on a spell, is it not?”

“...” This one talks too much, she noted. So much purple prosing in her dialogue. Perhaps it is to make one lost among her speech? Either way, she got the gist of what she was saying, before replying with “Your assumption is correct. Though, I doubt that it should be of your interest.”

“Ah, bollocks, I say. Absolutely bollocks! Whatever you’re trying to attempt here surely had garnered my interests, especially with the plethora of items and other... fragile magical things here that should not be tampered with. Reminds me of how the Vulpines used to dabble with the arts, see?”

Of course, she would know. Those scoundrels knew their magic, and knew it well. It is something she would never forget, really.

And she would continue. “You know, I’m something of a sorceress, myself. Vulpines are heavily attuned to magic, after all, and that would apply to myself too, what being their King and all. Perhaps I can be of assistance, then? A display of nothing but friendly hospitality, of course.”

Now, that made her curious. What can she assist toward the other? The Vulpines have developed so many intricate spells, so many forms of magecraft...

And all but the most horrendous of curses that backfire heavily on non-Vulpines if they ever dare to use it.

What Vulpine-brand magic should she introduce to the other, perhaps? Decisions, decisions.

“Good an offer as that may be, a “display of hospitality”, as you call it, but what is the catch? You suddenly offering aid on whatever I do here already raises some eyebrows.” Orithyia had, after all, grown perceptive on matters like these. There is sweetness in Lucia’s words, but she can’t help but feel that at the end of that sweetness, there’s but the slightest hint of the bitterness of poison.

Call it her intuition, maybe her clairvoyance, but she can’t help but be on guard.

“Ahahaha, what makes you think that I seek for an equivalent exchange? Its but a friendly gesture, a display of Vulpine customs! I offer help, we develop some form of partnership out of this, like some sort of magic colleagues, everyone’s happy! Vulpines are vixens, not devils! All this is done in good nature.” A pause, as Lucia would inhale a bit, before saying “After all, I just want nothing but happiness, and probably able to give some form of happiness to others. Vulpines cannot live without being happy, after all.”

“So, what do you say?”

Orithyia inhaled deeply, herself, thinking it through. She had achieved everything she had attained now, through sheer will, and grit. Sure, she had been under the tutelage of Myrddin too for some time, but if it weren’t for her motivation, focus and drive, then she would have failed long ago.

Hence her answer would be much obvious. A statement and testament of her pride. “I’ll think about it. I’ll give you my answer one of these days.” In translation, good luck getting a yes from her.

“Of course.” Ah, humans and their pride. Not as repulsive as Vacosian Pride, but up there, nonetheless. If she attributes Vacosians to disgusting parasites, as they did infest Voidal for a time, humans are, in turn, insignificant dregs who think they are bigger and more important than they actually are.

“Whelp, I guess that there’d be no further conversation between us until further notice then.” She clapped her hands, and started to leave Orithyia’s magic workshop. “I’ll be roaming around the royal premises to entertain myself for a bit. Worry not, though. I won’t be poking my tails around in places where I shouldn’t be. My apologies in barging into your workshop uninvited, by the way.”

“Though, I look forward to what your answer may be.”

And with that, Lucia left.

[satanschild01]

No All Might? That’s Alright

Izuku Midoriya Fanfiction

A/N: I started to re-watch the bnha anime, and it came to me what if All Might said no and left, and what might happen after that. I added a few twists to this one to make it a bit more pow! Hope you like this new series, because I have more ideas for later on! ~ Em

Tags for more feedback😘: @trashys-things @pink-imagines @marvelmymarvel @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @spaced-out-imagines​ @marvelmymarvelmain @writingfreakk

Trigger Warnings: suicide baiting and suicide

Word Count: 2110

Part 1 Part 2

______________

At the young age of 4, Izuku Midoriya learnt that not all men were made equal. He was pronounced quirkless. He thought that that would be the worst of it...but no. It was just the calm before the storm

“If you wanna be a hero that badly, there’s a quick way to do it…”

Why did it have to be this way? Please...just leave me alone Kacchan...

“Just hope that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next and life”

What have I ever done to deserve this? Why does it have to be this way?

“and take a swan-dive off the roof!”

What if I did? What if someone found out you were the reason for jumping! You could never become a hero if that got out!

Inflamed with despondency that Kacchan would even think of saying something so cruel, Izuku turned around on his heels. His shoulders were tense, he was going to say something back. But it seemed like Kacchan wasn’t worried about Izuku’s upcoming comeback as he raised his hand. Smoke and heat radiated from his palm as he gave Izuku a sharp-edged smirk. “Something wrong?”

Izuku just wilted where he stood. His fight earlier with the boy left him deflated and he was left alone standing in the junior high classroom. Consumed with all his thoughts. Izuku dragged his heavy feet out of the classroom walking down to the fountain to retrieve his burned and drenched notebook.

My dreams will be eaten away just like the koi eat at my book…

Izuku turned around and started walking. Kacchan’s words flooding through his mind.

______________________

Izuku didn’t remember carrying his body up to the roof of the school. All he knew was that his feet were cold and that he was staring over the edge, looking down at the hard concrete below. He remembered taking off his red shoes and neatly placing them next to the ledge.

Should I leave a note?

He decided not to write a note, besides, the burned and soaked notebook gave all the proof it needed to. He stared at the spot where he would most likely hit the ground and took in a calming breath…

Would it hurt?

Who would be the person to find him?

Would anyone care?

What would Kacchan think?

Izuku felt a freezing chill go down his spine. What was he doing? He would jump because Kacchan told him to? This is wrong. The boy stepped off the ledge, disgusted in himself that he would fall to Kacchan’s will. He shoved his feet back into his shoes, walking back down to the ground safely through the stairs. He would show everyone that he could become a hero and get into U.A without a lousy quirk. He probably won’t be the next #1 hero. But he’ll do his best to reach the top. No matter what it takes.

Forcing a smile onto his face, Izuku started to slowly make his way back home. It probably looked more like the grimace face emoji than a smile, but he didn’t care, he was going to keep smiling. That’s what All Might did.

He stopped smiling, turning into gasps for air as a sludge monster grabbed him and tried to force itself into his body. Slowly cutting his airways off. Trying to fight off the villain, moving around his limbs to try and save himself from what it felt like, molasses. Trying to move the sludge away from his mouth but to no prevail. The monster called him a hero...But he wasn’t a hero! Not yet. He wanted to be... he couldn’t be a hero if he let this villain take control of his body and use him as a puppet! But...But his sight was already getting spotty...The fight in his limbs was getting weaker…

I...I think I’m dying…

I-I don’t wanna die like this! I want to die on my own terms! Not forced to!

It hurts...so...so much and slow...

Someone, please help me!

A deep metallic ping rang noticeable all around, however, Midoriya scarcely saw it as he did whatever it took not to cry.

“It’s alright now young man.” A voice...where have I heard it before?- “Because I am here!”All Might! The villain tried to fight back, but All Might easily dodged and went in for a single punch. The force was so powerful it forced the sludge villain to disperse. The villain said something, but Izuku couldn’t tell. When the sludge was defeated, Izuku fell back onto the pavement and it was either the oxygen deprivation or the impact that rendered him unconscious.

______________________

“Hey! Hey!” Izuku heard as his body woke up, feeling rapid but gentle taps on his left cheek. He didn’t want to wake up. He just wanted to sleep. To go home and wallow in his own pity. There’s no way his bad day could get any worse. Either way, he must have given some sign that he was awake as the voice continued.

“Oh good, your awake!” Wait…Izuku’s eyes jolted open, sitting up quickly as he was trying to process what he was seeing

“Sorry ‘bout getting you caught in my villain fighting!” That voice...that’s All Might! “I don’t usually make mistakes like this”

He needed an autograph. Looking frantically around for his journal he was shocked to realize it’s being held towards him. The boy’s eyes widened as he took his journal back from his hero and opened it up to be already signed! All Might’s signature took up the whole spread of his notebook!

“It was the least I could do for getting you all mixed up in this mess!” All Might told him before patting his pocket. It was only then that Izuku noticed the soda bottle containing the villain that had just previously been choking the life out of him. “Now then, I have to get this guy to the police. See you on the other side of the screen!”

All Might turns around stretching out his legs and going into a crouched position about to jump away. Izuku found this as the best opportunity to ask his idol if he could pursue his dream, which was slowly going away after all the years of tormenting. “Wait...t-there is something I need to ask!” he shouted, rushing towards the hero.

Which led to the worst decision Izuku has ever made in his life. He grabbed onto the hero’s leg as he took off, way up high into the sky. This was also one of the scariest moments of his life, as he held on for dear life. But he needed an answer. “Let go of me! Your fanaticism is too much!”

“If I...let go…I’ll die!”

“That’s true,” All Might said and landed on a nearby rooftop. “Well then,” And Izuku was ashamed to hear the annoyance in his voice, “I guess I have time to answer your question.”

Izuku nodded, as he tried to push out the 10 words he needed “Can I...become a hero...even though I’m quirkless?”

All Might half turned towards Izuku. The silence is painful as he waits anxiously for an answer from the hero.

“Without a quirk?” 

All Might started to slightly shake and steam started to roll off hin large muscular body, but Izuku didn’t seem to notice as he was looking down at his shoes. When the steam vanished a man who looks very malnourished appeared. His hair, merely a poor mimic of All Might, was stringy and limp...He looked sickly and…

“Y-y-your deflating..!” Izuku shouted, shooting his head around looking for the 7ft tall hero he was just talking to a minute ago “A fake?! You’re so skinny!” 

“I am All Might. It’s like how those people constantly flexing their muscles at the pool,” he said nonchalantly as he wiped dripping blood from his mouth. “And I’m counting on you to keep your mouth shut about this. That includes your friends.”

“I s-sorta don’t have-”

His thought comes to a halt as he saw the deformed red and purple patchy scar marking All Might’s skin. It was layers upon layers of scars from stitches and Izuku felt his own side start to burn at the thought of the immense pain he must have felt. It worsened as All Might explained the fight that wrecked his body and put a timer on his hero time. “Symbol of peace. Always smiling...I smile to show the pressure of heroes...and to trick the fear inside me. Pros are always risking their lives.” The man spoke with conviction and anger, a pantomime of All Might.

“So the answer to your question is no.” Izuku froze. He had almost forgotten about his question in the showing of his identity, and past. But now that he remembered he just stood there with slumped shoulders trying to make himself smaller. “Heroing is a dangerous job and most villains can’t be beaten without the use of quirks. So no, I don’t think you could become a hero without a quirk. If you want to help others, then you can become a police officer. They’re ofter teased because they get villains delivered to thor doorstep but that is also a fine occupation”

“B-but my dream-” Izuku started as tears welled up in his eyes.

“It’s okay to have dreams. Just make sure those dreams are realistic.” All Might told him as he opened the door on the building and headed inside. The door slammed signifying the end...the end of the conversation and the end of Izuku’s dreams of being a hero. How could he continue on when his idol, the one he looked up to since he could walk, told him to stop trying. All because he didn’t have a quirk

After his idol, his all-time favourite hero broke his already breaking heart Izuku found no other way to continue on. His dreams he held so tightly were more than shattered. It was like someone completely shattered his dreams and breaking them more than all that was left was dust. Not even Kacchan could fully shatter his dreams, but by the hero, he looked up to his whole life. He was useless without a quirk. He was a stupid Deku like what Kacchan had always been telling him all those times before.

Izuku should have listened to him when they were little. He should have given up on his foolish dream of going to UA or becoming one of the greatest heroes. He could see now that the regulation change to allow quirkless people like him to apply to U.A was for publicity’s sake. After all, no quirkless person could actually pass the entrance exams.

“Just hope that you’ll be born with a quirk in your next and life...and take a swan-dive off the roof!”

The laughter of Bakugou's friends rang in Izuku's ear telling him how stupid he was for thinking he ever had a chance in such an unfair world.

Before he could decipher what he was doing, Izuku had kicked his faded red shoes off, once again placing them neatly on the ground and he was standing on the edge of the roof that All Might had so casually left him on after breaking his dreams.  His breath short and rasping. But besides his breaths, Izuku was calmer than he’s been in years. He was starting to feel free.

"You have so much to live for-"

No, I don't.

Izuku quickly shut down his line of thought as fast as it had come. He had nothing to live for. He knew that now. Not without a quirk. Even the police academy would expect him to have a quirk.

The world has no place for me anymore.

As true the thought may be it was still scary. But it was true...

There's no point in delaying the inevitable.

Izuku took one last deep breath, stretching his arms out beside him.

It'll be over fast.

Thought in mind, Izuku fell. The wind rushed passed him faster than ever. Faster than bullet trains. It almost felt like he was flying. A small smile spread across his lips. Flying. That would be a fun quirk to have. It wouldn’t be useless. He wouldn’t be useless.

Izuku didn't process the moment when he had hit the ground. It was only when he looked over and down that he saw himself lying limp on the pavement. His deed was done. But wasn't there supposed to be a bright light? Angels? No light? Flames of hell? Why was he still here?

[purkinje-effect]

Nuka-Cherry

Ours Is the Kingdom, Chapter 4. Go to previous. Go to next. A little wasteland catechesis.

“For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.”--Leviticus 17:11

Nineteen years ago

In order to investigate a rumor he’d heard at the Brass Lantern, August paused his jobs for those in Megaton and Girdershade to venture North a ways. The hematophagous protectors of Arefu could be the first truly omnivorous settlement he would encounter since moving to the Capital Wastes three years ago. The possibility he could have a place among them precipitated a visit. Asking around the settlement, which stood atop a section of still-standing overpass, yielded unnerved aversion from its inhabitants, but they were not shy to direct him to a place called Meresti.

Deep in the prewar tunnels had once run high-speed passenger subway trains. The damp, decaying walls felt like home already. Now, the metro station housed those who called themselves the Family, who knew of his arrival before he even reached the track-riddled bowels in which they resided. Their leader, Vance, was in his forties, with short dark purple hair and the palest skin he’d witnessed of anyone outside Appalachia. Wearing a leather duster, he stood watch over his adoptive brood from the balcony which overlooked the metro station’s lobby, stern, distant, and ever wary.

Vance already long since knew a great deal about the gangling dark-haired eighteen-year-old, and spoke with him as though a relative he had not seen since the boy was too small to remember him. He knew August had come to speak with someone about the Craving, and they conversed at length regarding the Five Laws of the Family. Ultimately, he left the decision up to August, whether to move in with them, and adopt their ways. As with all who sought shelter among the tunnels of Meresti, their leader sent him to reflect in isolation for three days, with the promise of his guidance if he accepted their ways as his own. In his guest room, he reflected upon his conversation with Vance, and did his best to determine whether belonging both to the Family and the Children of Atom were identities in opposition.

He worked his way in reverse through their tenets, observing a form of catechesis similar to that which he underwent when he first joined the Children. At the very least, the exercise could hone for him his connection with his faith.

The Fifth Law: Kill not our kindred: slay only our enemy. This is our justice.

He could rationalize the respect and unity in not killing Family out of anger or revenge. To not kill one another in any way, though. Confessor Cromwell and Mother Maya both preached the glory of the day Atom--Megaton’s eponymous bomb--would send them all to Division. He’d visited the Apostles of the Holy Light the year before, in the misguided expectation they too might follow the divination of Mothman. The Acolytes of Eternal Light had descended from the original Cult of the Mothman which had inhabited the Lucky Hole almost two hundred years ago. The Apostles, however, were Children who had broken away from Megaton. They believed in purposefully irradiating themselves, gradually, rather than awaiting a single great act of irradiation such as Megaton’s eventual detonation--and that diligent irradiation could bestow ghoulishness upon the faithful. To them, ghouls were the Exalted, angelic agents standing as proof Heaven was the Earth in the wake of the Great War’s Rapture. Their ultimate goal in faith was to remain on Earth as long as possible and serve Atom, past humanity and on to ghoulishness for centuries. Megaton’s Children revered ghouls, such as the bartender’s assistant in Moriarty’s Saloon, but Apostles regarded all ghouls with steep reverence, believing non-feral ghouls’s erratic behaviors and rasping diced language to bear the flame-tongue of Atom which no human can parse.

He very often stifled the desire to slay those who disrespected Gob. The ghoul was only doing his best, and it maddened August to know the ghoul had been bought out of slavery into his current position under Colin Moriarty’s management. Surely, there had to be a better lot for Gob. Maybe the Children, or the Apostles, could amass enough tithes to buy him from Moriarty, and free him altogether...

Since his separation from the Acolytes of Eternal Light, he’d struggled to find any alignment with others’ faith, scavenging bits and pieces from larger movements and amending them to his own. Atom’s path thus far shined brightest to him: Surely, Mothman forever chased Atom’s holy light. To him, also, the vessel was just as vital as the world-soul it contained, a physical manifestation of the galaxy he’d cultivated. He could come to emit the same light he sought in the world, if only he could cement his purpose and faith. In his baptism by Quantum at the bottling facility, he’d accepted Nuka-Cola would be his eventual portent of the great things he knew Atom had in store for him. Perhaps sooner, rather than later, Atom would send him a sign.

Ultimately, he decided it was right that only those who deserved to die, should die, and that lust killing should be consensual. That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the act--simply that the act needed to serve explicit purpose. He needed to remember to ask Vance whether consuming Family, especially fallen Family, was against their ways. Raised an Acolyte of Eternal Light, he was no stranger to finding food wherever possible, and in many occasions it was the highest honor for them to preserve kindred in such a mode of self-sacrifice. They wasted nothing, not even each other. If it was not by Atom’s guiding hand, the only death he found righteous was for protection of the innocent or himself, or for sole sake of sustenance. It wasn’t up to him when a person’s world-soul might disperse its galaxies.

The Fourth Law: Seek not the sun’s light; embrace only the shadows. This is our refuge.

To find refuge in the dark only served to contrast the Light. August supposed that such an asceticism which could heighten one’s appreciation and acuity for even the smallest Light. The darkness had been as familiar as another relative in his childhood, as his first family had lived deep in the bowels of the West Virginia mine known as the Lucky Hole. Noticing even dim lights, the slightest presage, came easily in such an acclimation. Bright lights did hurt his eyes... and many of his fellow Brothers and Sisters in Atom did find it unusual that he tended to worship in the bomb’s wellspring at night rather than during the day.

He could find peace in the reflected light of a full moon.

The Third Law: Feed not for pleasure; partake only to nourish. This is our dignity.

He wondered whether indulgence could be divided in such a way. The flesh had needs, and pleasure was a need. The Acolytes had always taught this, and it been an uncomfortable patch of adjusting to the meek ways of the Children. He could see dignity in abstaining from killing solely for sport, but no dignity in denying oneself due sustenance or denying oneself the satisfaction in it. He earned his meals, worked hard for them. And he should savor them.

Some needs held priority over others--and pleasure. Pleasure of every kind did seem to him the greatest obeisance one could make to the Eternal Light. It was pleasurable, to act on its behalf, to add to his world-soul, to become the greatest galaxy he could in his lifetime; pleasurable, to savor adding those unworthy of their world-souls to his own. And it was pleasurable, to admire what his faith had given him, to worship what Atom had made of him... like the limb that following Moira Brown’s guidance, alongside that of the Confessor, had bestowed upon him.

As with the fifth law, he understood the difference between murder and killing. The Children made no room for either. They made sharp distinction between self-preservation and self-defense... and denied themselves a majority of pleasures altogether.

The Second Law: Bear not the child; welcome only the exile. This is our fate.

With August’s predispositions, this preclusion would be the least trying law to live by, and the simplest to understand the logic behind. He’d once heard the aphorism, that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

Blood, thicker than water.

Consanguinity. Through condition, not through breeding.

The Acolytes and the Children both upheld this ideal. Virtue and ideal offered magnitudes beyond mere birth rite.

Only just recently eighteen, August only had a few years’ personal understanding of coitus. He had asked Vance whether abstaining from fathering children meant a total abstinence. The Family’s father figure had replied in affirmation, that they did not self-populate, but were not expressly celibate. They did not force induction through marriage, and did everything it could to avoid passing down the Craving through lineage. August simply was forbidden from fathering children in this law, but Vance had every enthusiasm for welcoming anyone with the Craving into the Family, as a sibling, or a cousin, or even an avaunt or parental figure. The Family sustained itself solely through adoption, regardless of the familial role an individual came to fulfill.

The Family existed to accept the forsaken and afflicted, and help them overcome their shame. In recent years, while it had made them somewhat less of a secret to the Capital Wastes, they’d found greater purpose in protecting Arefu. They did not consider Arefu or Meresti a holy ground, yet protected both inexhaustibly. Megaton and the Lucky Hole were holy, were they not? He’d protected them. He could defend Arefu and Meresti in kind, if they would have him... and perhaps, in effect, come to understand their sanctity. Though, he wondered whether he’d ever find anyplace that felt as vastly holy as Appalachia, or as potently holy as the crater.

The First Law: Feast not on the flesh; consume only the blood. It is our strength.

While he could make broad peace with the other four tenets, the first and greatest roiled in his heart. For the first two days of his isolation, he’d worked his way ascending and descending the rules of this refuge to exhaustion, trying to find an understanding for how the Family might justifiably live in such a way. Here, again, it beset him in a grimace as he lay back on the bare mattress in thought.

Within his cobbled-together faith, he had found his most current definition for the Craving which had compelled him since childhood. The world-soul resided in the blood, and he could appreciate an ideology which upheld its sanctity. Consuming blood consumed the world-soul, added its constellations and systems to one’s own galaxies, the sacred geometry of strangeness, charm, and nobility. To waste blood was unspeakable.

Yet, Vance had told him, consumption of the flesh is unclean. Filthy. Humans treat us like animals when we consume their flesh. We are not animals. We are the Family. We do not eat the flesh of those we kill for food.

He had been raised in a holistic fashion. Waste nothing. Use everything. The Acolytes of Eternal Light had taught him to tan, to butcher, to cook and preserve. If one had to kill, or if one had to die, if at all it could be helped the life taken should not be in vain.

Unlike the Savage Divide, such meats were a rarity in the Capital Wastes. For the past two years, he’d made do in Megaton knowing how to discern between iguana and other wasteland meats when they happened to crop up in the various craterside establishments. He would take an errand from Moira as an excuse to step out and cut down a convenient raider, anytime only a fresh kill could sate him; the Super-Duper Mart was a favorite nearby hunting ground of his. No one in Megaton, Children or otherwise, had indicated they took kindly to purposeful cannibalism of any sort. The local raider-turned-mercenary Jericho may have noticed his preference for iguana at some point, but said nothing, when he’d spent time with him so the old man could teach him to use a rifle.

The Children had taught him shame alongside humility, blurring the notions indiscreetly. He had not known shame until he traveled outside the Savage Divide, and he’d hoped to find pride and modulation here with the Family.

For a time, blood was the one thing from a kill he didn’t consume, instead favoring crafting Stimpaks from it. It was easier to obtain blood packs from Moira or Doc Church, under the premise of medical provisions, than ever actively seek out iguana in town, though. In his adolescence, he’d learned how to craft Stimpaks from human blood, as well as how to craft something they called Skeeto Spit from the mixed blood collected from Bloodbug sacs. Stimpaks healed the injured after ceremonial wasteland battles as well as after defensive encounters, while Skeeto Spit increased the longevity of those who stood for sake of the cult. Such that non-human blood might function in kind with the chemistry required of the intravenous prewar healing device, he had taught himself how to refine the compatibility between the two formulations, only to later develop in this practice the deepest ritualism he would ever find. Up until the cult’s demise, he had kept his technique to himself, noticing in his own self-experimentation that the use of Wasteland Stimpaks magnified the Craving--a trait that, while not shunned by the Acolytes, not all Acolytes exhibited, nurtured, or actively invoked as wholly as he did.

It wouldn’t be for many years of regular use of his dark craft that other side effects would manifest.

The Acolytes had not believed in world-souls, purely upholding the very present, corporeal, preternatural vitality Interlopers might bestow, and it was of his own spirituality adjunct to that of the Children that he had come to the understanding that Stimpaks surely held some key to discovering how the civilization that came before tangibly interacted with their world-souls. The Capital Wastes didn’t have Bloodbugs, however, and most of its wildlife didn’t have blood to collect directly either. It had been two years since his last synthesis of Wasteland Stimpaks, and he nearly left the area on several occasions just to resume his observances, now that he understood the greater connection of The Blood and The Life. He wasn’t sure what kept him in the Capital Wastes. He supposed he disliked the idea of straying too far from the crater, though entertaining a trip back to Appalachia under the premise of pilgrimage didn’t seem so fractious perhaps.

He had never found another who seemed to pursue personal growth in the same way he did, and it didn’t seem anyone in the Family held overlapping beliefs with him either. Vance agreed with him, though, that those with the Craving were either not born human, or became that way--and that the Craving was a deficit of soul. The leader had a word for those who drank blood and abstained from the flesh: vampire. For August, cannibalism was a form of transubstantiation, a transfusion by which he could feed an incomplete or once-absent spirit, and as an extension, Wasteland Stimpaks posited a way to add world-souls of wasteland creatures to his own--or at the very least, modify his vessel to be that much more capable of containing the world-soul he cultivated through piousness. Perhaps they were both right, and August’s aspirations sought to right that he had not originally had any world-soul to cultivate in the first place.

The Family tempered the Craving by drinking only the blood, and leaving the body for ceremony. Acolytes with the Craving tempered it by consuming only the body, and leaving the blood for ceremony.

A Child of Atom could belong to the Family, and a Child of Atom could belong to the Acolytes of Eternal Light... but an Acolyte could not belong to the Family.

He couldn’t make peace with the thought of one kill providing only one meal. One kill in the Savage Divide had provided easily a week’s worth of meat and offal, a good bit of leather and bone for crafts, and the blood... The blood couldn’t be the only thing taken from a kill. Yet, some of the Family preferred not to kill at all, and sustained themselves on blood packs donated from Arefu’s settlers in exchange for the Family’s protection. August perceived such an act as a communal blood pact. In this exchange between the Family and Arefu, he understood why they had grown so close so quickly. In a way, they were slowly acquiescing into one overarching shared world-soul. The idea of it harbored a deep dread in him, and even as his second day in Meresti closed, he still couldn’t discern whether the dread compelled or repulsed him.

He would stay one more day, to make sure he still felt the same by then, and then find a way to estrange a slaver from Paradise Falls before returning to the Church. His means of tempering his cravings as a way of protecting the wasteland’s innocents sufficed. The world-souls of raiders and slavers would be his, and he would use them properly in Atom’s sight. People who wasted their world-souls debasing others and sowing suffering were the greatest affront of all to the Holy Light, and if that was the purpose that drove the Craving, he could find peace and identity in it.

Perhaps after this visit with Vance, August could make better sense of whether he belonged under the guidance of Confessor Cromwell and Mother Maya, or under that of Mother Curie.

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[darkpoisonouslove]

“Care Can Be the Greatest Gift Even Wrapped in Pain”

Summary: Griffin is supposed to take care of the young queen until she turns sixteen but when she won't take care of herself, Stella steps in. Griffin is grateful to have the girl in her life and maybe just a bit bitter and angry that there is so much danger looming over Stella's head. So she swears once again to do everything necessary to protect her. Part 3 of “The Poison of a Gift”.

Mentions of death, murder, poisoning, vomiting, other unpleasantness.

I had a thought about the characters from TDC and then it transferred onto Stella and Griffin. I'm still obsessed with TDC so you keep getting updates in this series.

Edmund, the butler, is a canonic TDC character and I thought it would be best to keep him instead of making OCs to do his job.

The smell of stew fished her out of the bitter taste of different poisons flowing from the string of memories the book in her hands lured forward like she was a naive little fish and not the monster from the depths of the islanders' nightmares. She felt the need to bite off the head of whoever had allowed themselves to interrupt her reading and desecrate the library by even thinking of bringing food anywhere near it but she forced it down when she knew it was Stella. No one else would allow themselves the audacity. Certainly not Griselda who shared not just her blood but also her boldness and her love of books, much less any of the servants who respected but still feared her. As if she would waste her poisons and her efforts in justifying the murders on them when she could just fire them and hire someone who could do the job right.

The door opened to see the young queen in and she held it to ease the task of Griffin's butler–Edmund–to carry the enormous silver tray in his hands inside the space of the library. It was probably done out of fear that Edmund would somehow manage to drop his load the one time he was not supposed to and stain the library floor even though he'd been carrying the main weight of the household for almost as long as Griffin had been making the decisions for the Sylvane family and the whole island and Stella was just as used to his stealth and dexterity now as Griffin herself was. He was only ever noticed when he awaited instructions as failure to carry out his tasks was not a part of his job description so it never occurred.

"What's the occasion?" Griffin asked as she briskly moved to leave her book back on the shelve where it normally resided before the food could be brought anywhere close to it.

"Just a little surprise," Stella said, trying to pull off her innocent act and Griffin wasn't surprised it was working but rather bothered by the fact how easily she was falling victim to her little queen's schemes. Though, Stella wasn't quite so young and small anymore, yet she was still just as charming as she'd been when she'd first arrived at Greavesdrake and hadn't even reached Griffin's waist.

Griffin did not comment on Stella's chosen place for the impromptu picnic and just took her seat again when she knew it was all her doing. Stella was at the dining room for every meal and none of the maneuvering presented would have been necessary if Griffin had bothered to dig herself out of her paperwork and studies and found the time to sit at the table and eat with the young queen. She'd had the ambush coming and could have prevented it if she'd kept track of how many times she'd skipped gracing Stella with her company during a meal but she'd been too swallowed in work to notice. So Stella had noticed for her instead.

"Thank you, Edmund. I'll take it from here," Stella said when he left everything on the table Griffin had left all at her book's disposal before the interruption. She was usually better mannered–as a queen had to be–but she was protective over her time with Griffin so she allowed herself to rush him out of the room.

"As the young queen wishes," Edmund bowed slightly before leaving them and closing the door behind him now that his hands were free.

Normally, the dishes would be concealed by silver cloches when carried from the kitchen but since Stella had intended to have them turn to lunch instantly, those had been forgone. All the food was left open for the inspection of Griffin's gaze.

The venison stew she'd smelled was just one portion as it was covered with rosary peas which made it most unsavory to Stella. Her gift hadn't come in yet and even a few bites of the stew would send her doubling over and falling out of her chair defeating the purpose of lunch when she emptied her stomach's contents on the library floor. The poison had soaked everything so there was no way around it either and they could only avoid all the unpleasantness if Stella's poisoner gift suddenly decided to kick in exactly that day but since it hadn't shown for the six years Stella had spent in Griffin's care, they could both agree it was better to leave it alone for now.

"How are your studies going?" Griffin asked as she watched Stella take one of the teacups and place it in front of her, the strong scent of sweet woodruff wafting through the air to draw her to the drink despite the steam coming out of it that advised caution when it came to the temperature.

At least the tea was safe for consumption by Stella as well. Woodruff was added in the May wine poisoners served to their children when their gift still hadn't come in and Stella had loved the drink as well ever since she'd become a resident of Greavesdrake half her lifetime ago. She hardly remembered anything before the poisons and the purple of Griffin's hair and at least that was going the way it was supposed to. Forgetting her sisters was the first step to killing them which was, in turn, the final step to surviving. But there was more after that which was where the lessons came.

Being an expert on poisons was what would win Stella the crown when her concoctions made their way into her sisters' veins but she needed to know how to wear it, too, how to rule. She needed to know her way through politics as well as she knew it through poisons and that cost numerous hours spent studying that felt dry and bitter and almost as horrible as the poisoning training but were at least giving better results despite how often Stella ended up with a sketch of what had become a distraction instead of paying attention to the economics she was being tutored in. Griffin had witnessed enough of that to need to put efforts into containing her regret over Stella's fate as a queen. And she most certainly always did her best not to wish that Stella could have been her child and had at least some freedom in choosing what she wanted to be.

"Almost as sweet as the Galium odoratum tea when Griselda is not watching me like a hawk the entire time," Stella said as she placed her own cup of tea on the table and it had Griffin smirking.

Griselda hardly had the time for observations now that she was the one ruling the Black Council more or less since Griffin was doing whatever did not necessitate her presence from home and avoided the Volroy on most days. No one dared say anything when she had the important task of raising their next Queen to handle and her sister was handling the rest. Griselda was sterner despite being the more controlled sister and sometimes Griffin could swear that people feared her more which was not really a problem. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"Griselda's strictness is her way of saying that she cares," Griffin said, resisting the impulse to nuzzle her cup of tea before Stella was seated herself. She'd said it before, too, but it was worth repeating when she could tell Stella struggled to believe it some days when Griselda got particularly demanding. Griffin had felt like she couldn't live up to her sister's standards herself even if she was older and the head of the family. It was just hard to compete with Griselda when she excelled in everything and expected the same from everyone else only to be disappointed more often than not. "You know she's not all academics, though," Griffin said to draw Stella's attention away from the theoretical when it wasn't her strongest suit as she preferred action.

"Right," Stella said as she moved the plates with the bloodroot salad off the tray leaving one for herself as well since she could eat it in small quantities. "After a few years of lessons in poisons, I can at least catch up with what she's saying but the moment she brings up archery practice I am left far behind," Stella said as she placed the stew in front of Griffin.

Griffin did not comment on all the care Stella was displaying for her as enough had been said already. She could never forget the confession of a nine-year-old Stella that she preferred it when there was a party or they had guests since those were the only times anyone could be sure Griffin had truly eaten something along with her poisons even if it meant Stella herself remained mostly hungry as everything served was tainted and she could hardly take a bite without getting sick. Watching her choke down half a plate of candied scorpions when she'd learned that as long as she avoided the tails, she would be fine had made Griffin hurt worse than any venom would have even if she hadn't had her gift. Though, if there was anything positive to be found in the situation, it was that Stella hadn't lost her appetite despite the harsh effects of all the poisons she'd been subjected to.

"Griselda's had years worth of practice," Griffin said to drag herself out of those thoughts even if they bled through in the present every time the toxins forced in Stella's system would force a groan out of her. "You'll get there." Griselda could be a demanding teacher but her lessons gave results at least to a certain degree no matter who she was teaching and Stella was doing her best to learn.

"I can't even touch the arrow tips when they're dipped in Aconitum and whatever I can touch is not of much help when I'm terrible at archery," Stella huffed and Griffin tried to ignore the porridge that was one of the main components of Stella's menu when she'd end up throwing up most of what she ate anyway when exposed to poison and focus on holding back her chuckle to make sure it wouldn't be interpreted the wrong way.

It was endearing to see how much Stella was striving to please. No one had made her learn the scientific names of the poisons she used and just calling the Aconitum wolf's-bane would have been enough so long as she knew what it was and how to use it while staying safe herself. Yet, she had all the convoluted names memorized when she'd color-coded them – each in the shade of the plant it came from. Both Griffin and Griselda had been impressed and Stella had been beaming with pride which had been not just welcome considering her usual bouts of doubt, but also well-deserved.

"Archery needs discipline and practice and with Griselda as your teacher you have no choice but to give both of those so I wouldn't be particularly worried about that," Griffin said and let a small smile play out on her face at the look of Stella's resigned expression. "Unless, of course, you would like to spend those hours doing other things in which case you'll need to learn to live with the disappointment." That was the understatement of her entire life. There would hardly be anything else other than disappointment and sacrifices in Stella's life when there was no glamor to being Queen, only duty. "Or you'll need to figure out an arrangement with Griselda that works for both of you," Griffin suggested and was rewarded for the leniency when Stella beamed at her. She would just have to make sure that radiance would stay there after the Ascension Year was done so the crown could be put to shame by Stella's shine.

"Do you think I have a chance there?" Stella asked, already excited despite her own uncertainty of her abilities and opportunities and Griffin's own heart was trying to jump out of the place where it was supposed to be as if to shield Stella's joy. Seeing her enthusiasm was an even better gift than the dress Stella had made for her.

In all fairness, Griffin had already had the dress but Stella had made some changes that had left the garment looking like there was a snake wrapped around the base of the bodice. It was perfect for a poisoner like Griffin who was not a fan of wearing the living version like Ediltrude and even Zarathustra had been, always wrapped in snakes that weren't even sedated to guarantee they wouldn't cause trouble. Their poison couldn't hurt the twins whose gift was as strong as Griffin's own but at an event that wasn't strictly for the Sylvane family could lead to mayhem. Which was exactly the reason why the twins had loved doing it, of course, always a bit of disaster to go with their clothes. It was the most essential accessory to the two of them and the fact that Griffin and Griselda could argue had never stopped them.

Stella hadn't let the constant poison-induced vomiting and her lack of a figure to stand in the way of her interest in fashion either. She was serious about it and Griffin couldn't find it in herself to force her to drop it even when she knew that would be best. There was no way it could go anywhere whether Stella lived or died in her Ascension Year and she had to hide it even now since they couldn't announce she was the one who had designed her own dress at a party. It was one of the few things that brought her genuine joy, though, and Griffin wouldn't let it be crushed after Stella was doing her best to be the dutiful queen everyone wanted to see.

"You always have a chance," Griffin said, knowing her words would convince Stella. "Especially when I'm there to support you." And that would be always.

Griselda wouldn't be happy with that particular idea, Griffin would find a way to convince her. Stella had already sacrificed so much when she went through poisoning after poisoning trying to put on a brave face and endure it without complaining. Even when it made her hate what she saw in the mirror and ruined her confidence keeping her from approaching any of the boys she was crushing on which Griselda said was better anyway and Griffin was forced to agree since there was just one path for a queen and any love it involved came from her king-consort. But Stella couldn't even enjoy something harmless such as dancing a lot of the time when she barely had the energy after she'd almost thrown up her guts countless times in the dead of night while the toxins gripped her body tightly and made it convulse. Griffin was not going to ruin anything for her that she didn't absolutely have to.

"Thank you, Griffin," Stella said with a look so intense that Griffin had to reach for her teacup to make sure the young queen wouldn't reach for her hand. And as much as she would like to say she was doing it for Stella, she was doing it for herself, to remind herself Stella was only hers to raise and belonged to the Goddess like all the rest of them did. No matter how much Griffin would like it to be different.

Stella moved to put the dessert on the table as well and Griffin almost choked on her sip of tea when she saw the blue fruits of moonseed adorning the pie.

Moonseed pie had been Luna's favorite as the poison wasn't quite that strong and even a giftless person could survive it. Griffin had quickly developed a taste for it as well and Griselda had eventually joined them in their little pie tradition as well, though Griffin hadn't been sure whether she'd been guarding herself from the high sugar intake or the attachment that a ritual like that bound them in. If it had been the latter, it had certainly been a good idea since Luna's death had tainted the dessert with something even the Sylvane poisoners were not immune to.

Stella couldn't have known that just the sight of the pie would almost have bile rising in Griffin's throat at the bitterness of the memories in her head. Griffin never talked about Luna even if Stella asked. She just pretended she didn't hear her questions and all Griselda ever told her was that dead queens were not talked about. And by now Stella had learned not to insist that Luna was her aunt when she knew queens had no families–they came from the Goddess and were only fostered in chosen families until they were of age to claim their birthright or die to feed the Island–and she'd finally stopped asking. Though, Griffin suspected that had more to do with Stella feeling the pain her questions caused both Griffin and Griselda rather than with the disappearance of her curiosity.

Griffin would have talked if she could find any words when she knew Stella would never find anything in a book about a dead queen that was forgotten but there just wasn't anything to say. Or rather there were many things to say that could not be said. Maybe the pain would go away if Griffin could scream it all out but she couldn't let anyone hear. She couldn't blame the Goddess for taking away from her something that had never been hers. And no queen was ever anyone's.

"There are no fruits in the pie as well, are they?" Griffin asked as she took a better look at the two slices. Stella's didn't have the moonseed on top and the filling looked free of it as well.

"No, they are just on top," Stella said, fidgeting almost guiltily and Griffin couldn't decide whether she had felt it necessary because she couldn't consume the poison or because she had an appetite for the pie despite that. As if Griffin was going to scold her for daring to want food when she hadn't fulfilled her obligation to learn to eat it when it was tainted.

"Then you can have my slice, too," Griffin said, wishing that her own stomach would relax the way Stella did. She would have to taste the pie still before she let Stella have any of it. She couldn't risk any mistakes even if just the thought of eating it was making her nauseous.

She'd only eaten moonseed pie with Griselda when they would prepare it together under the cover of night on the anniversary of Luna's death to honor their sister's memory. But for Stella she would eat all of her misery. All of her fears and all of her weaknesses. She couldn't be anything short of dauntless when Stella was hunting down her own courage every day to get through the very lessons that were supposed to keep her alive.

It was only fair that Griffin faced the things she was afraid would kill her in the name of her Queen, in the name of her precious little star when that was what would keep her shining. She would care for Stella even if it killed her. She would certainly deserve it if she couldn't keep her ray of sunshine safe.

[cheetahsprints]

Blood and Bone

Prompt: Winter Date

Summary: Peridot’s peace is shattered by a welcome interruption.

Words: 1574

Peridot straps on her skates. Verdant eyes scan the frozen lake. Being undead has its downsides - such as always being cold and not gaining muscle mass - but there were perks. It meant she couldn't be colder than she already was. It meant she could skate on thin ice. Even if the ice breaks, it's not a threat, barely an inconvenience.

There was a time when Peridot longed for the sweet release of a stake to her arrested heart.

She takes this time to appreciate her second existence on Earth, as well as the serenity and beauty of winter. She takes slow spins on the ice, pristine snow banks and trees weighed down by twinkling white twirling around in her vision. She pauses at the sound of rustling, followed by a light growl. She casts her senses, but they hit a hastily thrown up barrier - one that somehow feels lazy and sarcastic. She knows it doesn't belong to the nearby pack's Alpha, all sharp and intimidating. She fights a smile, her suspicions already cemented.

Not a minute later, a large, white and furry mass slams into Peridot, and she is barely able to shriek before she's plowed into the snow.

Peridot surfaces, sputtering, to be greeted with the mischievous smile and bright violet eyes of her mate, her forbidden lover. Amethyst still wears her ears and tail, the latter of which wags fiercely, spraying snow everywhere. She licks Peridot's face just to be annoying, from her nose to the triangular tattoo on her forehead.

Peridot's eyes flick to Amethyst's Marrowbind - an uneven cluster of bone shards embedded in her chest that seal her fate as a Lycanthrope - where it's exposed by her loose purple top. Its purpose is similar to the Bloodmark above Peridot's eyes. Since she's a Bloodsworn - known by humans as a Vampire - Amethyst and her kind should be her sworn enemy.

Still Peridot questions, "What are you doing here?! This is clan land!"

"Aw, aren't you glad to see me Ankle Biter?"

Rolling her eyes at the nickname, Peridot scoffs, "Of course. It's just any Bloodsworn with a quarter of a wit could sense your fuzz bucket a mile away!"

"Only a mile huh? Man, I'm trying too hard."

"Trying to get us slain for treason, you mean."

Contradicting her sour tone, Peridot cups her cheeks and kisses her. She's bathed in warmth. Where the radiation of the sun fails to soak into her skin, and a candle no longer burns her flesh at a touch, Amethyst's supernatural heat blankets her.

Peridot isn't so arrogant to assume they're the first pair, but there's nothing on record. Discretion is the better part of valor. Peridot sags with relief when Amethyst nuzzles her neck. She gathers Peridot in her strong arms. Peridot is a bit of a sucker for being handled, especially since the disappointing discovery that no Bloodsworn were muscular eye candy. Any who were muscular when they Turned were soon to atrophy.

"I just missed you so much," Amethyst murmurs. "Not just 'cause it's moon week."

Peridot hums. Amethyst urges, "Come on, give me that nerd monologue."

"It's not a monologue!"

"Whatever you call it, my sensitive ears need that sweet music."

Despite the current ceasefire between their 'sides', Peridot is hesitant to encourage her. Swallowing her fears, Peridot obliges, beginning to idly chat about recent events and discussing her job and hobbies. During this, Amethyst hoists Peridot on her shoulders. She probably feels like a feather. Amethyst is no powerhouse compared to others in her pack, especially her Alpha. She's considered a runt, but that doesn't stop Peridot from enjoying the ripple of her muscles. Amethyst carries her through the woods and on a hike up the cliffside. All the while, Peridot has her sense out like a net.

As a young Vampire, Peridot never fought a Werewolf before Amethyst, and she was led to believe that her kind was superior and more indestructible. She was, in a word, cocky. One injury, a broken shin that threw her into war flashbacks, and she was down. Amethyst was wounded six ways to Sunday, bleeding and spitting blood, yet she fought like a storm of maternal ursine.

Until Peridot had started screaming and crying like Amethyst had ripped her legs clean off. Somehow recognizing the panic attack, Amethyst had approached cautiously, eventually getting permission to haul Peridot to a secluded area. She nursed her back to health. Peridot fled right after, fearing favors being extracted. When Amethyst asked nothing of her, they sat by a river in neutral territory over red meat and blood bags. For hours on any days that could be spared, they talked.

How she had been humbled. Humility became appreciation, they formed a friendship and… undying love. Peridot felt she could search ten thousand lifetimes and never forge a bond like this again. Overcoming her preconceived notions to give Amethyst a chance was the greatest decision she ever made. Love is worth the suffering, Peridot tells herself day to day, when the worries get the best of her.

Distantly, Peridot hears Amethyst ask if she's alright and the sound of snow crunching under bare feet. She must have lapsed into silence. She dives in where she's left off, more to distract herself from dark musings than anything.

As they reach the apex, Amethyst remarks, "It's so nice to hear the sound of your voice, chatting my ear off. My pack are all monosyllabic with the occasional grunt y'know?"

Peridot sinks her fingers into Amethyst's hair, broadcasting happiness that her mate can probably scent. She scratches her scalp, earning a low rumble that Peridot recognizes as the Lycan equivalent of a purr. Peridot says, "For my part, it's a liberating experience to actually have someone listen and care about what comes out of my mouth."

Her mind darts to her roommate. She's about the only Bloodsworn in Peridot's faction that she can stand, and they're friendly intellectual rivals at best.

She goes on, "Pearl is engaging, she doesn't talk down on me or outright ignore me like my superiors… but she's also an expert at turning the conversation to herself, and damned if she ever heeds anything important I'll tell her. She'll claim she misheard, when really she couldn't pull her head out of her self-important ass."

Peridot has the utmost respect for Pearl, though her words shadow it. Pearl is well aware Peridot trash talks her - it happens face to face, and Pearl gives as good as she gets. It's hard to believe the brazen rebel was once a human bloodslave surviving on the edge of desperation. Many of their kind consider her lesser - less capable, less intelligent, less powerful, less valuable. Between each other, they have trust and admiration enough to tease in good spirits.

Amethyst chuckles.

"Moon Goddess light my path! I hear that. Wish I had a sirloin for every time I spoke and my Alpha replied with 'no one cares'. Those stuck up butt-munches deserve each other." Amethyst mutters, "Copying us and acting like they invented the notion, pah."

Peridot chortles along. They stop. Peridot examines the hill, spotting a two person sled. Her eyes widen. She scrambles from Amethyst's back and attempts to escape, but Amethyst is too quick even for Vampiric speed. Of all species, Bloodsworn and Lycanthropes are the most well matched. It's unfathomable that they should use their compatibility for murder and misery.

Peridot protests, "I'll fall off, or you'll crash!"

"So hang on tight, ya dip. It's not like we'll die. We won't crash again anyway, I've got the hang of this thing. Promise."

Peridot shoots her a deadpan expression before she's dragged across the snow. It's the optimal consistency for sledding, and Peridot focuses on frozen water flakes instead of her terror frozen inside her, unable to evoke a proper response. Amethyst marches to the sled. Peridot has little choice but to clasp the lip while Amethyst settles behind her. Peridot takes to lecturing her in order to stay sane.

"My body, held up by the strings of dark magic, no longer produces adrenaline. Therefore, it lacks a fight or flight response, resulting in Bloodsworn being either overly reckless or overly cautious with no gauge or filter." Peridot continues, "Harrowing yet not life threatening situations are sensationally overwhelming and impossible to process."

"Yeah, and it's funny," Amethyst responds. “Like when I’m giving you hickeys and you just go limp.”

As her lungs no longer have to trifle with the mortal requirement of breathing, Peridot screams without pause the whole way down. Amethyst laughs like a maniac behind her. Lycanthropy causes her to constantly be high on adrenaline, seeking thrills. She at least shows she cares by having a firm grip of Peridot's small waist. Amethyst has added several ramps, and she yells out points for herself throughout the ride. She guides the sled by throwing her body weight alone, and there's numerous near misses. Amethyst shifts her hand into a paw and digs it into the ground to bring the sled to a gradual halt.

Peridot stumbles off on shaky legs and collapses face first into the snow. The tremble spreads to her body, which is immediately wrung out as though she ran ten thousand miles without replenishing on blood. Amethyst turns her over and rests her in the crook of her arm, stroking her forehead. Amethyst always coddles her after these experiences, so it's not lacking in benefits.

[raywritesthings]

All’s Fair

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Nyssa al Ghul Pairing: Laurel Lance/Nyssa al Ghul Summary: Laurel helps Nyssa celebrate her first New Year’s and complete her first Resolution. Notes: No “Eleven-Fifty-Nine” and no Crisis *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links in my bio*

“What are these ridiculous glasses?”

Laurel turned back around in the aisle, her basket hanging from an arm, to find Nyssa by the New Year’s display. She was holding a pair of floppy, glossy paper frames shaped into the numbers 2020.

“It’s for New Year’s.”

“New Year’s?”

Laurel stopped, then walked over to her friend. “Nyssa, you’re not telling me you don’t know—”

“I realize we are leaving one year behind for another,” Nyssa quickly stated. Laurel bit her lip to hide a smile. The way her friend tended to get embarrassed over not knowing things about everyday life outside of the League was endlessly cute. But Laurel didn’t know what Nyssa might say if she realized Laurel found her cute.

“Okay, well, it’s tradition to sort of celebrate. Ring in the new.”

“With silly glasses?”

Laurel nodded. “And hats and noise-makers and watching a big disco ball drop in the middle of Times Square. I haven’t done any of that in years.” It was strange to think about how many years she had let just pass by for one reason or another.

As she watched Nyssa eyeing the display with curiosity, she made a snap decision. Laurel scooped up two hats, noisemakers and another pair of the glasses, dropping them into her basket.

“Let’s do it, okay? Let’s celebrate New Year’s.”

Nyssa’s lips quirked in a bemused sort of way, and she dropped the glasses she was holding into the basket as well.

She grabbed some more things while they were out at the store, then returned home to work on putting it all together. Nyssa offered to help, but she told her to sit back and relax since this was her first ever New Year’s party. Though it wouldn’t be much of a party since their friends would all be out that night on patrol. Laurel sent Thea a text to let her know she and Nyssa would be taking the night off for themselves.

She was mixing a punch together when Thea’s reply came back. Have fun! Get a New Year’s kiss for me ;)

Laurel licked her lips and tucked the phone away. That was one aspect of the tradition she wasn’t planning to bring up with Nyssa any time soon.

It was just so unfair. Nyssa had been staying with her for a few months now, ever since she, Thea and Roy had returned from destroying the Lazarus Pits around the world. She had Thea’s old room, since Thea and Roy had gotten their own place. And rooming with Nyssa had been nice… yet endlessly frustrating.

Nyssa had certain habits, like lounging about in a towel while she let her hair air dry. Her very long, full head of hair. Her rosemary perfume tended to cling to things like the couch cushions, and she hand-washed and hang-dried everything. Including her underwear. Needless to say, Laurel’s imagination had taken her on many a trip to fantasy-land featuring rosemary and the swell of Nyssa’s breasts barely hidden under deep purple lingerie that Laurel knew for a fact her friend owned.

And it just wasn’t fair because Nyssa was off-limits. Not only was Nyssa her friend, but she was Sara’s ex — which Nyssa had only recently come to terms with after the last time Sara visited and told Laurel all about her new girlfriend, Ava. So, despite what Sara had done regarding Laurel’s boyfriend what felt a lifetime ago, Laurel knew that making any kind of move would be awkward at best and judged harshly at worst.

Never mind the fact she still hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone she might like girls.

It just never felt like the right time. She could hear the voices of her friends in her head even now: Laurel, you really have to stop trying to be your sister. It wasn’t like she’d made a conscious decision to like girls. It was mostly just little stuff, like that Mari was so strong and skilled or that Felicity was kind of adorable a lot of the time or that Nyssa was stunning and sweet and brilliant but refreshingly naive about so many things and she was everything.

God, she really was pathetic about this. But when she fell, she always fell deep.

Laurel ordered some Chinese, which was always a careful affair as Nyssa had very lofty standards where American Chinese cuisine was concerned. But Laurel hadn’t wanted to put her out by asking her to cook when Nyssa was supposed to be enjoying her first New Year’s. They turned the TV on to the channel playing the Times Square party, but kept the volume down in order to be able to hear the delivery man’s arrival.

“An interesting selection of songs so far,” Nyssa remarked. Interesting was her word for something she wasn’t quite sure she liked.

Laurel shrugged. “It’s a mix of new stuff with some classics. And some Christmas, because we didn’t get enough of it the rest of the month, apparently.” She passed her friend a glass of punch, grinning at the sight of the bright and glittery hat perched on Nyssa’s perfect hair.

“Thank you, my dearest.” Nyssa had taken to saying that a lot recently. The first time, it had been said as ‘my dearest friend’, but it had since become shortened for convenience's sake. “Mm, I like this.” Nyssa smacked her lips and licked them, which so didn’t help Laurel from openly staring at them. “How else do people celebrate the end of the year?”

“Well,” Laurel said, pausing to take a breath to collect herself. “A lot of people will make resolutions that they plan to uphold in the New Year. Like losing weight or quitting smoking or doing one random act of kindness a day. Stuff like that.”

“And do they uphold them?”

“Not usually,” Laurel admitted.

“Should we make them anyway?”

“If you want to.”

Nyssa nodded. “I do.”

“Okay, then.” Laurel heard the knock at the door and went to get their food. She returned with takeout containers she set on the coffee table, then went into her kitchen for the paper plates and utensils.

They spent the next several minutes eating silently as the night wore on. Laurel searched her brain for some kind of resolution she could say she was making. She liked where she was with her training and physical fitness right now, so that was out. Her sobriety was still intact. And she figured her vigilantism counted as random acts of good for the people of their city in a way. So that was most of the big categories.

Laurel knew that some people made romance a part of their resolution. But Laurel’s wheels were pretty much stuck in the mud when it came to relationships. She was going nowhere fast.

“Oh, it’s close to midnight,” Laurel realized, setting the remains of her Kung Pao Chicken aside and washing it down with the last of her punch.

“Very good. I have made my resolution,” Nyssa announced.

“Great.” Laurel bent down to fish the noisemakers out of her bag. “Did you want to tell me what it was?”

“Yes, as it rather involves you.”

Laurel lifted her head. “It does?”

“Yes, my dearest.” Nyssa set her own glass aside and slid closer on the couch they were sharing. “My resolution is to stop, as you Americans say it, beating around the bush.”

“Beating around the bush about what?”

“Us, of course. You hardly believe I would parade myself around as a feast for the eyes for just anyone, would you? Or allow you to glimpse my unmentionables? Not even my short-lived husband has ever seen them, and he would not be alive if he had,” Nyssa added with a wicked smirk.

Laurel was too busy gaping at her friend to really process the veiled threat towards Oliver. “I- you were doing all that on purpose? But I didn’t think—”

“Laurel, ever since I met your family, my life was changed. But you, dearest, have changed me. Perhaps more than you will ever know. How could I not hold you in my heart when at last I made room for it?”

Like most of Nyssa’s declarations, this one was nearly overwhelming in its intensity. Oddly enough, Laurel felt herself comforted by the wet sheen she could see in Nyssa’s eyes. Knowing she was just as affected as Laurel stoked something warm in her chest. “I thought I was wrong or taking advantage of you staying here. I didn’t think you could ever see me as someone to be with.”

Nyssa’s actions hadn’t been unintentional at all. She had been trying to let Laurel know that it was okay, that she was interested. That they could have this.

“To be with you as a friend and in this home has already been my greatest privilege. To be with you in every sense is now my greatest desire.”

Laurel couldn’t help a shiver. It had been so long since someone had even looked at her with something like want. To hear it laid so bare like that was doing things to her, reawakening feelings and sensations she’d thought she couldn’t have anymore. 

Nyssa slid even closer, so that their knees brushed and she laid one hand on Laurel’s thigh. The touch seemed to burn through the thin cotton of the pajama bottoms she had on. “I have done some reading on this holiday while you were preparing our celebration. I understand that revelers exchange a kiss at midnight.”

Laurel nodded, not really trusting her voice.

“I would very much like to participate in that tradition.”

This required perhaps more than a nod, so Laurel just barely managed an, “Okay.”

Her friend smiled, a genuine one that was rare and thus all the more beautiful, before she leaned in. Laurel’s hand rose to cup Nyssa’s jaw, then stroke her cheek as their lips met in a tentative exploration.

Nyssa’s lips were softer than she could have expected, and warm against her own. Laurel couldn’t resist capturing the bottom one between her teeth for a moment, earning a surprised but happy hum.

They parted to breathe, foreheads leaned together, and Laurel smiled as a thought came to her. “Nyssa?”

“Yes, dearest?”

Laurel reached down and snagged one of the noise makers, blowing into it for a short, shrill burst.

Nyssa sat back, blinking in shock. “What on Earth—”

“Happy New Year.”

Nyssa let out a breath and shook her head. “Your country is ridiculous.”

Laurel laughed as Nyssa snagged the noisemaker and tossed it aside, then happily resumed their previous activity. The television flashed with fireworks as the crowds in New York City cheered. Laurel closed her eyes to all of that, too happy to surrender her lips and her mouth and her body to Nyssa’s touch. Her friend, her trainer and now so much more.

Maybe life was fair, sometimes.

[punkpoemprose]

The Language of Flowers

Oneshot Universe: Canon Rating: G (General Audiences) You could read this to your Nana. Length: 1649 words

A/N: @awesomemaple​ you said that your favorite stories had “anna being a big ol’ silly and kristoff looks at her like she hung the moon up in the sky” and “anna playing with kristoff’s hair”. Sorry I didn’t also get reading in there, but I hope you like it anyway!

A very merry unbirthday to you! 

Anna learned how to braid her own hair at the age of five. Elsa did it for her when they were small, but when she shut her out, Anna’s governess had been given the task. She always put her hair up too tightly, it pulled her scalp and gave her headaches that made her cry, so she fumbled and fumbled until she learned to do it herself. She’d never expected that she would ever braid anyone else’s.

Kristoff smiled lazily, his head resting on Anna’s lap as her fingers worked slowly though his hair. She was humming something and when he fluttered his eyelids open, he saw her smiling face haloed by the sunshine above them. She looked like she was concentrating, but only to some extent, not like she was when she was reading or writing or drawing. Her fingertips brushed against his scalp and as she went about her braiding, she pulled on strands of his hair just hard enough that he could feel it. It felt nice. He would give anything for everyday to be one of these lazy summer days laying in the green grass with her.

Anna hummed and plucked one of the little wildflowers he’d collected for her out of the rough bouquet at her side. It was purple and just a bit bigger than her thumb. She slipped it into the space between his hair and crossed pieces over the top to lock it in. There were a few white and yellow ones already ornamenting her braid work and while she was certain he knew that she was adding them, he wasn’t complaining. She liked it when he let her do silly little things like this with him. She hadn’t been allowed to be silly much in her younger years. She’d always been clumsy by nature and while sometimes people laughed at her about it, it was never something that she had enjoyed, and she’d always been chided for it. Just being allowed the time to let her guard down and do something that had no real goal or purpose was the best gift she’d ever been given.

When she finished her work the remaining pieces of his hair were too short to tie up the braid with and so she slipped a hand from the top of his head into her pocket and pulled out a ribbon that she had been using to hold her own hair back. It was magenta and she couldn’t help but to let out a giggle when she thought about how well the colors complimented each other. Her tutor would be so proud, she’d managed to create a floral arrangement fit for the situation, albeit a bit hairier than the old women would have liked it to be. She tied off his hair with the ribbon tightly and fashioned the ends into a bow. He would look like a proper maiden ready for a dance around the maypole if it weren’t for his beard and that made her laugh even more.

Kristoff’s grin morphed into a full-blown smile when he heard Anna laughing. He opened his eyes again and shifted up, removing his head from her lap to face her. She was always beautiful, but when she laughed it were as if she were glowing. It pulled him in and he couldn’t help himself but to reach out and rest his hand gently against her blushing cheek. When he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth she was still giggling, and it made him laugh too. Their noses bumped together, but it only added to their amusement. He leaned his forehead against hers and only wondered for a moment how he had been so lucky to be the one to run into her in the mountains that day so many months ago. It felt a lot like fate in moments like this.

“Do I look pretty?” he asked and it sent her over the edge.

Anna snorted and nodded because she was running short of breath to tell him that, yes he was very pretty.

“I’m glad,” he said and poked a flower from the pile at her side over her ear in return. It didn’t add to her beauty but rather she added to its loveliness. The flower looked better balanced over Anna’s ear than it ever could in the field around them.

Anna reached up to touch the flower he’d put into her hair, the shape of it alone made her smile. He couldn’t possibly know what it meant, but she had when she’d put it in his hair. She thought she’d enlighten him, even though it was silly. He seemed to like it when she was silly. She knew she loved it when he was.

“Wallflowers are for faithfulness.”

He smiled, “Happy accident?”

She nodded at that, “Well only if you mean it.”

Kristoff reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and brushed his fingers along her cheek and then along the flower. He had a feeling that he might be wearing a message in his hair, but he liked the idea of it. He’d like to know what it said, but he wouldn’t press. It wasn’t his lot in life to ask too many questions of Anna, especially because she told him everything when she was ready to anyway.

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

Anna lit up like a lamp and it made him melt. She was his greatest joy. He loved a great many things, the trolls, Sven, ice and his work cutting it. He was even beginning to love Elsa if only because Anna loved her and because the little family they made was what Anna had always wanted. The way he loved Anna was much like that, but somehow deeper. Despite the circumstances that brought them together being out of either of their control, Anna was the first person he had chosen to love. Familial love had always been a given, but loving Anna was his decision, even if it wasn’t a conscious one.

She kissed him, long and hard, her fingers in his hair undoing much of her hard work. She didn’t mind, she could do it all again if she cared to. He was patient, he would give her the time it took, and he’d let her mess it up again and continue the cycle until dark came if that was what she wanted because he loved her and she knew it. She felt his love in every look, every touch, and she felt like she was the lucky one even though she knew people whispered about the opposite. He would have been fine without a life in the castle, he would have been able to care for himself, but she couldn’t imagine life without him. She couldn’t imagine living without the sort of love he gave her without reservation.

“Violets are for thoughts of love,” she said between kisses, “and bluebells are for kindness.”

He grinned. He knew that she would tell him, and it made him feel good to be on the receiving end of her floral promises. Having her think of him with love, having her kindness and loyalty made him richer than any man he’d ever met. He knew that he was no prince, that people would always look at them like they didn’t belong together, but he would give her his whole heart for as long as she would keep him, and even after that.

“I don’t think I’ve ever liked flowers as much as I do now hearing you talk about them.”

Anna pressed another kiss to his lips and rested her forehead against his again. She could smell the flowers in his hair and could feel the way he was looking at her with love and warmth and contentment even with her eyes closed. That was how she knew that things with him were real, she could see it in the dark, feel it even when he was far from her, she could hear him saying “I love you” even when he was silent.

“They fade, but they’re nice for making promises. I always thought it was silly to say things to people with something that was dying, but I guess it’s the way life is, you know? A promise can be there one day, but you have to put work in to keep it after you say it.”

Kristoff nodded and kissed her softly, “If I have to build a greenhouse I will.”

Anna grinned. She wasn’t sure if he was being literal or not, but Kristoff was usually literal as a rule, so she just laughed.

“I think we’ll be good as long as we keep the promises.”

Kristoff knew she was laughing at him, and it somehow felt like an honor. To have made her laugh was more reward than all the money in the world.

“I can promise that too. Forever.”

Anna grinned and reached over to the bouquet picking up a peony and handing it to him. “Happy marriage?”

He grinned and grasped her hand between both of his, the blossom held between their bodies.

“Yes. If you would do me the honor.”

Anna couldn’t breathe again, and it wasn’t from laughing. She could see the way he was looking at her so clearly, how his love for her flooded the space around them. He had no reservations in his affection for her, and with the sun warm on her back, the peony fresh and sweet between them she knew that she had no reservations in her love of him either.

“Yes,” she whispered just before they all but crushed the flower between their bodies.

In the process of kissing him the wildflowers from his hair returned to the grass around them. The breeze carried the sweet smell with it, and her fingers were tangling into his hair again.

[mysticsparklewings]

Nightlights in the Deep

At last, I can finally show you guys what's been with the tree fever in my last couple of posts (Terrarium Nova and WIP Wednesday: Oops all Trees)

So the art supply company Arteza madea post on their Instagram a few days ago where they announced a contest to make art featuring trees and post it on Instagram with all the appropriate tags, open until September 26th (with prizes of course) and I thought it would be fun, especially since one of their suggestions was to design a tree.

And I also decided to add a little extra challenge to myself to stick primarily to the Arteza supplies that I have, since it's their contest. That meant I had their watercolors, colored pencils, and woodless watercolor pencils to pick from and play with. Although I did end up using quite a bit of gel pen (Sakura gelly rolls and a little of my white Uni-ball Signo) to get the bright pops of color I just couldn't get with the other supplies. The gel pens felt fairer to supplement with since I usually accent pretty much all my work with gel pen in some form or another.

Naturally, after I gave myself a few minutes to ponder how to stand out among a crowd of trees but also fit right in, my imagination ran wild with my own fictional tree species.

I pretty immediately landed on the idea of an underwater/deep-sea/bottom-of-the-ocean tree and also something with bioluminescence (things that naturally glow in the dark) and from there I starting searching for various tree and water-themed things on Pinterest to flesh out my ideas. From that, I very quickly arrived at the idea of a winding, twisting trunk like you might find on a bonsai tree. And while originally I really liked the idea of having wispy drooping petals and/or leaves like Wisteria or willow trees, after a few tests that didn't turn out as nicely as I wanted (as seen on the WIP Wednesday mentioned above) I decided maybe it would be best to go without this time around.

So the final concept I've ended up with for my trees here goes roughly as follows, although I'm no botanist or marine biologist so there's a good chance a lot of this doesn't check out scientifically:

The Nightlight tree, named for its bioluminescent fruits--called "moon fruits" for their whiteish glow, pale bluish color, and spherical shape--is a species of aquatic tree that is found growing anchored to rock formations and cave systems in the greatest depths of the ocean. As these trees exist in oceanic depths with minimal or no sunlight, they perform chemosynthesis rather than photosynthesis to make their own food until they reach maturity and can produce their own artificial light as a food supplement. Nightlight trees root systems can reinforce and stabilize the rock formations they anchor to in order to grow, which provides a more sound home and environment for the species of fish that will eat the "moon fruits," attracted by their bright glow, produced by the tree and aid in the tree's reproduction. Because of this, nightlight trees may grow in clustered groups or may grow so closely together that multiple trees twist and wind around each other, which can put strain on the trees' root systems and may cause development problems and may cause the younger of the trees to die. The bark of mature nightlight trees may also have a faint glow where the tree is thickest, as the bark is stretched more thinly around the nutrient carry "veins" found within the trunk of the tree, where the chemical process that causes the tree's fruit to glow begins. Nightlight trees attract and feed a variety of deep sea creatures and other bottom-dwelling vegetation, many of which feature bright flourescent colors or bioluminescent traits and may camoflodge with the moon fruits or the few brightly colored flower-like leaves that the moon fruits emerge from four times a year, peak season typically being in the spring. This provides these other species with a largely safe place to settle and reproduce while the tree is at its most forthgiving. Moon Fruits once detached from the tree will retain their glowing properties for approximately 7-10 days. Fruits that in that time find themselves on or around suitable growing conditions may then begin to take root and grow. Fruits that are not in suitable growing conditions within the time frame will then begin to decay and detoriate. Certain deviations or subspecies of nightlight trees may also be found in the depths of brackish or freshwater, but the most common sigular variety is the "White Light" variety found in oceanic saltwater.

Excuse me if that's a little all-over-the-place for a faux "knowledgable source about trees" article, but I think I managed to get the bulk of my ideas for how these trees work in there.

For a while, I also had the idea that if one of the trees ever did grow tall enough to reach the water with plenty of sunlight and/or poke out of the water that the exposed parts of the tree would die and/or become sicker with more sunlight exposure, so you'd have this really tall tree that's dead at the top but as you follow it down becomes progressively healthier until you reach the bottom and find this beautiful natural undersea garden with all these neon plants and animals it's supporting in its ecosystem. And while I do still like that idea, I don't think it's terribly realistic and I definitely couldn't fit all that would entail into this one artwork.

That said, I think you can probably see my reasoning for a lot of the artistic decisions I made here, so hopefully, I won't have to stop every five seconds to explain how the tree works while I go through what my artistic process was.

After some sketching to think through my ideas of the tree structure and possible fruit/foliage things and the practice/failed attempt pieces, I decided my best bet for the pseudo-vision I had in my head would be to make lines from the sketches I'd done as a base (as in my practice pieces where I attempted to free-hand everything things really got away from me pretty easily), and so I lifted the lines for the two trees, the caves, and some of the ground/sand from my sketches and transferred them to a piece of Canson XL watercolor paper, since I knew I wanted to work primarily with the Arteza watercolors and maybe (at the time but this ended up not being the case) the woodless watercolor pencils too.

And if I may, I'd like to take a moment here to say that while on some levels I do understand why some more versed in watercolor than I absolutely loathe the Canson XL watercolor paper, to me, it much like the premise of cheaper watercolors is not strictly terrible--it's a matter of what you're used to and what you learn to work with. If you can learn to work with what you've got, and that's what you get used to, then to a point it the quality almost doesn't matter. This paper does work differently from the more expensive/nicer watercolor papers I've tried, but it's so much more accessible that I have more of it, so I use it more, and by now I've learned a lot about how to work with it to get the results I want, so I'm less likely to encounter some of the problems other people seem to have with it. It all just depends on you, your taste, and how you work.

But enough of my paper mini-rant. Back to the artwork:

I knew from my practice pieces that part of the mistakes I kept making was not laying down layers further in the background first so that I wouldn't have to attempt to paint around/right up to them later, as well as layering up more would help me better achieve the darker, moodier undersea look I was aiming for. So after taking a picture of my lines and very quickly and sloppily doing a color mockup in one of the few drawing apps that still work with a Gen 4 iPad to figure out which paint colors to squirt onto a palette, I went in with an all-over layer of a darker blue for the background first, and I layered that up 2 or 3 more times to get it to a darker intensity.

It's still a little bit brighter than I was originally hoping for, but it still came out pretty nicely. Though I couldn't tell you how much of the ocean-ish texture is just textural properties of the particular paint color and how much of it was how I laid down the paint between all the strokes I did to even out the coverage and the additional layers.

After that was dry, I made a faux-pas (in that I would have to paint around them a little later) and moved on the stars of the show; the trees themselves.

The trees were probably the slowest and most methodical part of this piece. I very carefully went in and would do lines and then blend them out slightly when possible, trying to use the transparent nature of watercolors to my advantage. This was a slower process, especially as I would work my way up the trees and get to smaller branches (especially with the smaller tree) and had to switch to a smaller brush just to make sure I was staying within my lines. But I and my dark, moody purple did eventually get through it, and even with only the trees the background painted, I was really pleased with how they turned out.

Then I moved on to my little rock-cave things and the ground. The caves started out as a lighter ultramarine color, but it looked kinda weird so I did even up going back and adding a couple of additional layers and shading to try and add more depth, as well as I tried to stick with a dark blue only for the insides of the caves, but they ended up really seeming to need the addition of some black. The end result is a little too close in value between the trees, the caves, and the caves' insides, but there wasn't really a better way to remedy that beyond starting over, and after everything I'd been through to get to this point, I did not want to do that. So it stays as is.

The ground was actually relatively simple. Since I already had a blue background and I had decided a greenish color would be the best route to go, I just layered some yellow paint in the areas I wanted to look more like sand/ground and did the same kind of semi-blending as I did on the cave rocks and trees. And it worked just as well when I added the sand/ground moving towards the back that I hadn't pre-drawn in.

Now, I was trying to hold off doing the little moon fruits (which at this point were just bioluminescent orbs to me, I did all the naming after I finished the piece so I would know exactly what I was trying to name) until I had all the painting done, since the plan was to do them with the colored pencils, and I just kinda wanted to be able to say I was done and put all the painting stuff away before I moved on to that. That's how I usually work with my mixed media projects; I prefer to have a plan and get the majority of one medium or section done before moving on to something else. (Usually to have more desk space available but it also helps me keep things organized.)

And it was at this point that I realized my plans didn't look very under-water-ish. It kinda just looked like a moody dry-land landscape painting. Which is fine, but that's not what I wanted/was going for.

To remedy this, I started by adding some seaweed/kelp like plants to the ground. Which still looked largely just like funny grass or weeds.

It was at this point that I deviated from the actual artwork and moved back to my watercolor sketchbook to do some toying around. The main thing I did was practice trying to make coral or coral-like plants since I figured that might help with the whole ocean thing. And on the page where I ended up doing a lot of the practicing, I actually ended up taking a little extra time, later on, to make into kind of a bonus art piece, which I'll be posting by itself at some point in the future.

But I also practiced making bubbles and some other details we'll get to in a moment.

I tried doing the coral a few different ways but ultimately went with the way I see coral in my mind when I think of the word; this rounded cartoony kinda thing, even though that's not what real coral usually looks like. (I looked up pictures during the process out of curiosity) I don't know where this very specific imagery got implanted into my brain other than maybe Spongebob, but that still doesn't seem quite right, so I don't know.

And I have to say that the Neon Pink Arteza watercolor continues to be a favorite of mine, while we're here. It held up over the dark colors and compared to the gel pens infinitely better than I thought it would. Arteza, if you see this by chance, this is my plea--please make more neon watercolors if you can make them as good as this pink one!

*Ahem* Anyway...

After all that, I did step back from the watercolor and come in with the colored pencils. I didn't think I was almost done, but at the moment I didn't have much else in mind for the watercolors and figured it would be best to move to the pencils and then I could come back to the watercolors if I felt like I needed to.

I'm not sure if the Arteza colored pencils just don't like watercolor paper or something, but I had kind of a hard time applying the pencils and getting them to pop the way I wanted to, particularly in areas that had thinner paint coverage. This was the most notable in the bare ocean areas where I was trying to do the moon fruits, as the pencils worked a little better when I hit those darker patches of blue, and they liked working over the truck bark a lot better. To be fair, I know some of this is because most colored pencils have a hard time going over darker colors, as even my Prismacolor and Polychromos can have a hard time over my toned gray paper sometimes, but it still seemed like these were falling more flatly on that front than I had anticipated.

Either way, by this point it was late and I was exhausted, so I finished up what I wanted to do with the pencils--finally coloring the moon fruits, adding some additional texture to the sand, caves/rocks, coral, and trees--and decided to leave it until morning.

As I was cleaning up for the night, I was looking at that bonus art piece/practice page I talked about earlier, and I noticed a spot where the paint had done a kind of texture thing again (this time definitely more from how I applied it and less from the paint itself) and the shape, combined with me thinking of things I could do to continue to play up the "ocean" imagery and make my seascape look more lived in, made me think of sting or manta rays. More specifically that one would look really good in that spot, and about the time I completed that thought was when it dawned on me the key component I had been missing the whole time:

It's an ocean life scene. Where's the life part?? Do you know what lives in the ocean? FISH!

And I still couldn't tell why that just hadn't occurred to me until then.

So I went to bed knowing exactly what I was going to be looking up and practicing the next day to add to and hopefully complete my tree painting.

The next day, after many minutes spent prowling Pinterest for marine life silhouettes and having added a few rays to my practice piece, (and some nonspecific fish to the other couple of failed attempts since the practice-piece-turned-art was getting a bit crowded) I was off and added a manta ray, a small school of fish, and two other fishes just hanging out. Then I couldn't help myself and added a smaller ray in the leftover space that was just kind of begging for a little something more behind the other ray.

And I could have very well stopped there, but it was bothering me in the fresh daylight just how much the colored pencils had seemingly sunk back into the artwork. My bubbles I added the night before were so hard to notice! And the moon fruits...they just weren't popping at all the way I wanted them to.

I tried not to; I really did. I wanted to stick to just using the Arteza supplies that I had and maybe some white gel pen. But I had to do something to get the color to pop more, and the alternative was to pull out the white and neons from my Prismacolor pencils and between the two options, pulling out my Sakura Gelly Roll Moonlight pens, as I said earlier, felt less like I was deviating from the challenge. And for all I know, the Prismacolor pencils might not have popped as much as I wanted either, even if they popped more than the Arteza pencils. So gel pens it was!

I used my white Uni-ball Signo for the actual moon fruits themselves, and the gelly rolls for their little leaf-petals and some extra dots/texture on the coral. I also used the white gelly roll to add some additional "glow" to the tree bark and to revive the poor bubbles that had gotten so lost before. And then I went back later at different points to add the two moon fruits that fell, partly to fill in space and partly because it just made more sense to my brain to have at least some that weren't still on the trees.

Also, I'm not sure how well it reads, but I did go back and try to add more of a proper "glow" effect to the moon fruits with the white colored pencil, but I feel like I lost a lot of the minimal pigment I was getting by the time I used a blending stump to soften the edges.

It's funny to me; this was one of those pieces where I spent so much time with it and meticulously going over the details that at first I actually wasn't sure it was finished. It's one of those where I had to step back and let it settle in that I had seen my vision through to the end before I could properly "accept" it.

And you know, for as many challenges as I had with trying to invent my own tree species and the problem-solving I had to do throughout the process, I am really proud and happy with how the final piece turned out.

It's different; it's out of my comfort zone because I don't do landscape type things, and it challenged my creativity in a different way. And I feel like I was able to achieve what I set out to do with the piece.

And thanks to my hesitance to dive right into the final piece without testing, I also got a bonus art piece out of it, so yay two birds with one stone?

This may have started out as just another contest entry, but in the end, I'm really glad for the mini art journey this piece took me on, and even if I don't win anything in the giveaway (which realistically I probably won't), I'm happy just to have made the artwork. And that's kinda the most important thing, right?

Now, I have some commission work to do, but I also have a certain supply that's been sitting on my desk all week just begging to be used, and some other pieces in the works, so stayed tuned for that and that bonus art piece I keep talking about that came out of this piece.

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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings

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Where to find me & my artwork: 

My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[itsclydebitches]

What if super serious silliness ensued and OZPIN was the one who started it?!

I’m a terrible prompt filler who jumped ahead in the list, but I was stuck in the airport today and wanted to write some of that silliness :D

Updated list of to-be filled prompts here 

On a particularly dreary, November morning Ozpin once watched a colleague of his pick up a vase and throw it across the room where it shattered, irreparable. The blue and white piece had been a gift from a friend two-hundred years dead, nothing more than an antique—by an unknown artist, no less—to everyone but him. His colleague apologized of course and Ozpin forgave him. Of course. Tempers had been high that day, their struggle great, and in the end he was pleased that this new friend had taken his grief out on a mere object, rather than on himself.

Still, such forgiveness didn’t stop him from clearing his then office of all other beloved mementos. As the years dragged and things like fire, grimm, or frayed tempers continued to destroy Ozpin’s tenuous links to his past, he’d eventually cleared them all away, stored in safe, secret places for him to visit when time allowed. His office became barren and if people thought that was a reflection of a cold and callous nature? Very well. Ozpin rarely had the luxury of proving them wrong. 

Today, his office held precisely four pieces of furniture: his desk, his chair, an additional chair brought out only for students… and an old-fashioned calendar hanging on the wall.

People commented on it frequently. After all, if you were going for a minimalist approach, why break it with a calendar of all things? Especially in the age where everyone kept schedules on their scrolls? The fact that it wasn’t even a particularly nice calendar seemed to throw people the most. Not that there was anything wrong with those sold in the Beacon gift shop, sporting landscape photos of the architecture and surrounding grounds, the occasional, generic headshot of a four student team. It just didn’t quite fit with the rest of Ozpin’s aesthetic.

He always smiled at those who questioned the choice, shrugged, and asked, “Why not?”

‘Why not?’ was a perfectly wonderful phrase. It left little room for further interrogation. In truth, Ozpin had grown fond of that calendar, if only because it added a spot of light to what had otherwise become a dreary room. That calendar, he thought fondly, also had the dubious pleasure of being the bane of Glynda’s existence.

“Sweet fucking dust.”

Ozpin bit hard into his lower lip, kindly not responding to her unusual choice of words. Every morning Glynda arrived with plans, notes, and any disasters that had sprung up during the night, everything a Headmaster might need to begin his day. Every morning she also took a black pen from her pocket and carefully marked another X on the calendar, right before leaving. This ensured that Glynda was always the first to see when Beacon traditions swung back around, those events helpfully written in green at the beginning of the year by her suspiciously eager boss.

Today there was just one notation, a massive exclamation point taking up the whole height of the box. Across the room, Ozpin watched Glynda’s face twitch in horror.

“Problem?” he asked. The look she shot him made it that much harder to swallow his laugh.

She didn’t respond. Glynda merely marched back to the elevator, wooden, her pallor suggesting she was a woman walking to her death. Ozpin might not have the comfort of his decorations anymore, but this calendar provided an equal—if vastly different—kind of camaraderie.

“We’ll be fine!” he called, lifting his mug in a toast just as the doors closed. Only then did Ozpin allow himself to laugh at his poor headmistresses’ plight.

Beacon’s prank week had just begun.  

***

“The alarms,” Bart said decisively, staring out the lounge window where Glynda was berating a group of students. Their shit-eating grins were visible even from this distance—as were the hundreds of utensils they’d stuck into the yard, spelling out a term not to be repeated in polite company. Bart made sure to get numerous pics of it on his scroll. “A hundred dust-infused alarm clocks hidden across the school, each set to go off at a different time during the course of the week? Simple, and yet utterly maddening. It took me forever to find that last one hidden under the floorboards of my classroom. I sometimes still think I can hear that incessant beeping…”

Peter shook his head, elbowing Bart out of the way so he could get a better look. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, old friend. The greatest prank goes to whoever set those boarbatusks loose!”

Peach set her novel aside, eyebrows raising. “Someone released grimm. Into Beacon. As a prank?”

“Ah yes. That was before you joined us.” Peter flapped a hand in her general direction. “Just young ones, my dear, just young ones. Besides, anyone here can dispatch a boarbatusk in moments! As my first year grimm studies class always demonstrates with aplomb. No, no, Pamela. The joke was in what was painted on their backs.”

Bart zipped there and back for more coffee. “We dispatched a one, a two, and a four,” he said, fingers flipping upwards with each number.

“And the three?”

“No three,” Peter chuckled. “Though we didn’t know that at the time. Looking for the supposedly illusive beast drove poor Glynda to… well.”

The three of them watched her herd the students off to class. All of them shook their heads as they went, hands raised in the universal gesture of innocence. It was a time honored tradition that any and all pranks performed during this week were to remain anonymous—and the students did a remarkable job of putting aside their pride in the name of turning their headmistress’s hair a premature gray. To this day no one knew exactly who orchestrated the alarm fiasco, let alone who managed to capture, wrangle, and set loose three boarbatusks at dawn without ever being caught out of bed. Pull aside any Beacon graduate and they’d just shake their head. Not me, good sir. I would never participate in such juvenile behavior.

Yeah. Right.

Together they watched as Glynda cut her arm sharply through the air, hundreds of forks, knives, spoons (and the occasional spork) flying in a vaguely threatening arc back towards the kitchen. With the grounds clear of creative profanity, their gaze bore down on Glynda as she briefly hung her head in her hands.  

“Poor woman,” Bart said.

“We should really do something to help her,” Peter agreed.

Peach nodded. “We are instructors after all.”

None of them moved. After a moment Bart pulled his scroll back up and started flipping through the photos. “You two want copies?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, man.”

***

“It wasn’t me,” Sage squeaked, backing up and finding that there was nowhere left to go. In her peripheral vision she spotted her team scrambling around the corner, effectively abandoning her, and she made a mental note to murder them all later. Slowly.

Glynda’s hand tightened around her riding crop. The squeak of leather was overly loud in the otherwise silent hall. “Mr. Sekoni says otherwise.”

Sage’s mouth dropped. “Florian is a liar! Er—I mean—I got the same note, ma’am. See?” Careful that she didn’t get blasted back into the wall, Sage removed the slip of paper from her bag. The message was printed on some sort of thick, fancy card-stock and smelled vaguely of old books. Sage’s note said the same thing that Florian’s had, and theirs presumably matched the rest of the school. As far as Sage could tell, whoever had pulled this prank together made sure to include a note for themselves, making it pretty much impossible to tell who’d started it. Six hours in and no one had broken their innocent act.

Whoever they were, Sage was pretty sure she loved them.

“It was slipped under our door this morning,” she whispered. “I swear.”

“And you just decided to follow these instructions, did you?”

“…Yeah. Sorry, ma’am.”

With a growl Glynda snatched the note and stalked away, no doubt off to interrogate the next unfortunate student. Sage watched her go, wobbling slightly in her black heels. She still wasn’t used to walking around in these things. The purple cape made out of her neighbor’s blanket though? Kinda made Sage feel badass.

As their headmistress stalked away four more students dressed as Glynda Goodwitch scurried to press themselves against the wall. She cast disgusted looks at their outfits and Sage, dust help her, giggled.

It was a little funny. Professor Goodwitch would realize that eventually.

Maybe.

Sage cocked her head, fixing her white blouse. What had she been doing?

Oh yeah. Murder.

***

Ozpin considered the problem before him. “It’s the sleeves,” he said, shaking his head like these students had personally offended him. Snickers turned into full-blown laughter as Ozpin retrieved four rubber-bands from his desk drawer, slipping each onto the brothers’ wrists. It helped create a puff in their sleeves and Ozpin nodded, satisfied with the result. “There, much better. Just don’t let them cut off your circulation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you will cease doing one another’s homework.”

The twins exchanged glances. “…Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” Ozpin’s smile was back. “Now take your excellent outfits and get to class. You have history this morning, yes? Better hurry. You know how Doctor Oobleck is about lateness…”

That was more than enough to set the boys in motion. They snuck into the elevator just as Glynda walked out of it—pulling at their skirts and fluffing up their newly detailed sleeves. They gave her a salute, using a ruler and wooden spoon in lieu of riding crops.

Kids now safely out of her reach, Glynda turned her wrath on Ozpin instead. “Don’t you dare encourage them in this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. “They did such a good job on those costumes though. Surely you’re flattered…?”

“Flattered!” Glynda went to the calendar and viciously marked off the previous day. “In twenty-four hours I have cleaned up the front grounds—twice—been bombarded with calls from people wishing to buy Beacon because someone listed us on some advertising site for, and I quote, ‘The special one time price of five lien!’—” Behind her Ozpin choked. “I have dealt with a school-wide sleepover in the dining hall at 3:00am, the fifty pizzas that someone ordered to arrive during my class, and have had the supposed pleasure of watching everyone on campus attempt to mimic my wardrobe. Even Bart is dressing up now. And it’s only been one day!”

Ozpin knew from long experience that it was best to just let Glynda rant herself out. He made appropriate, sympathetic noises whenever she paused for breath and hid his humor behind many long sips of coffee. By the time she’d shared all pertinent info—including a comprehensive list of everyone who’d attended the sleepover, something Ozpin planned to “lose” very quickly—Glynda was marginally less red in the face and Ozpin had given his word that he wouldn’t suddenly show up in heels and a purple lined cape.

…though he’d had his fingers crossed behind his back when he said as much. Ozpin liked to keep his options open.

Because yes, it was a time honored, Beacon tradition that during prank week no one gave up who’d crafted, planned, and executed any of the madness. It was a gesture of solidarity… and easy enough to do. Given that only a handful of pranks over the years had actually originated from the student body. The rest…

Ozpin chuckled. Glynda gone, he seated himself before his laptop and pulled up his plans for today. Setting up those utensils and delivering instructions to every student’s room had been easy enough, especially with his speed. Fifty pizzas? Hardly put a dent in his fortune and his students always needed to eat. The sleepover had just been a rumor taking on a life of its own—beautifully—and Ozpin had listed Beacon for sale on a total whim during lunch. Really, Glynda should have been suspicious given that whoever uploaded the listing had access to her private scroll number.

He’d never meant to pick on Glynda specifically… but now that he’d started, it seemed rather a shame to stop.

“What now, what now,” Ozpin murmured, toying with his options. It wouldn’t do to be too hasty.

His eyes strayed to his calendar and yes, Ozpin smiled. After all, there were still six days left in the week.

[bobasheebaby]

Shattered-Crimson Rain chapter 5

Pairing: Bastien x Liza; Liam x Raven Word count: 3,077 Warnings: angst, depression, self doubt Summary: Liza takes the result of the attempted hit hard.  A/N: @katurrade and @zaffrenotes kept pushing me to do a Mobster AU. Beta’d by my patient husband who is completely hooked. Series warnings: Mobster AU, there will be violence, and death. NSFW content to come. Possibly dark. If you ask to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist. Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing them for a bit.

Present day; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Two weeks had passed since Liza woke up in the hospital, she still couldn’t bear to look at Bastien, her heart aching whenever she did. She hated that she was the cause of his pain, the added anger he was exuding. She was desperate to keep him from making a rash decision, but she couldn’t look at him, let alone speak to him. Her life had become one of avoidance, her days being spent sitting in her favorite chair wrapped in a blanket as she stared blankly into space. Her mind always racing, trying to decipher how she could have possibly changed the outcome, spared them this pain. Liza felt hollow, like the shell of the exuberant woman she was before. Her heart ached, her stomach felt oddly empty, her skin lacked the glow she had just weeks before. Even her hair hung limp around her face and lacked it’s usual shine. Her scar was starting to heal, but she could still see the dagger protruding from her wound. The scar mocked her, reminding her of her greatest mistake, the moment she failed everyone she loved. She hated that she was so weak, that it had cost her everything. She didn’t think she could handle staying put a second longer. Staying there, being with him was far too painful, she was constantly reminded what they had lost, what she had cost them, cost him. She loved him more than anything but Bastien deserved more than the weak woman that she was. Liza felt like she was drowning and she couldn’t find her way to the surface. She needed an escape, a way to break free, save them both from this horrible life they’d been sentenced to by her weakness. Hot tears stung at her dull, red rimmed hazel eyes at the thought of leaving him behind. Liza didn’t want to leave, yet she knew she couldn’t stay. Maybe he could find someone stronger than her if she left. The tears fell freely, blurring her vision as she haphazardly packed up her essentials. She hated the idea of leaving the gifts he’d given her over the years, but she knew in her heart she didn’t deserve them or the happy memories attached to them. She needed to break free, give them both the space she knew in her heart they needed. It didn’t matter how much it made her heart ache, she needed to do this for him, he deserved better than her. Liza threw on a dark hoodie, pulling the hood up over her head, tucking her lackluster teal hair under the soft cotton material. She grabbed her bag, taking one last look around the room that held so many now painful memories. She put on a pair of large dark sunglasses, trying to conceal as much of her as possible. She couldn’t be seen leaving as she snuck out like the coward she was. She thought about leaving him a note, but she wasn’t even sure how to truly convey how sorry she was for the pain she caused him. The words would surely escape her and if she tried to speak to him in person she knew his steely grey eyes would bore through her as they always did making her break. She couldn’t stay, she was leaving for him. Liza ducked her head down, pulling her chin into her chest as she snuck out into the hall, trying her hardest to leave unseen. She knew if she was spotted they would simply try to convince her to stay, or worse yet take her to him. She couldn’t be around him, his anger and hurt was all her fault. She was leaving behind her entire heart no matter how much it hurt, trying to spare the man who held it some pain, give him a new chance at the family, happiness he deserved. Liza stifled a sniffle as she maneuvered the halls of the expansive home as stealthily as possible. She made herself as small as possible as she made her way to the door, determined to make it out unseen. Liza froze when she heard the familiar clicking of heels on the hardwood floors. She stood rooted in place, fearfully looking around for somewhere to hide. She realized she was too late as she saw the shadow of the figure round the corner. Her heart felt as though it might beat straight out of her chest, her breath caught in her throat as she waited to be face to face with the only other person she truly didn’t want to see. The clicking of heels grew louder, Liza held her breath as the fiery red hair came into view. Her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach, she would never make her escape now. She was trapped, she had no escape, nowhere to hide, she stood there like a deer caught in the headlights, too fearful to flee. “Liza, there you are!” Olivia exclaimed, glad she tracked down her friend. She had been worried about her, not that she’d ever show it. Olivia pulled her ruby lips into a thin line as she spied Liza’s packed bag. Olivia knew Liza wasn’t doing well, but she never thought she’d leave. Olivia felt like all the air had been punched out of her lungs when she realized Liza’s intention. Liza promised, or was she just trying to silence a stubborn, hard headed, no nonsense sixteen year old girl who wouldn’t let Liza in and tried to push her away from the man who had raised her for the last ten years, the man who became her father. Olivia frowned, she wouldn’t let the only other parent she had walk away from her. It took her far too long to learn her self worth, she would not allow the woman who helped make her break her.

Ten years ago; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania- Olivia: Olivia frowned, her ginger eyebrows furrowed in disgust, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to shield herself from the offending person standing across from her. She couldn’t understand why she was being forced to meet someone who she knew wouldn’t be around long. No woman ever stayed long, they couldn’t handle the life that her father, Bastien led. They were always too pure, getting caught up in some fantasy of what they thought it was to be with a mobster, the reality was always too much. After the last one left Olivia demanded that he not bring any of them around anymore. Sure she sounded bratty, but she loved the man who raised her and she knew he deserved better than the weak woman he brought around. She refused to get to know another woman who would merely waltz out of their lives as quickly as she blew into them. So now she couldn’t understand why she was staring at the woman with pink, purple, and teal streaked raven hair. Olivia’s frown deepened as she scanned the woman before her. She was young, the woman couldn’t be much older than she was. She couldn’t figure out why she had to meet another one, why this one was considered to be different than the rest. Maybe her age made her more naïve than the others. Perhaps she was too young to realize what it meant to date man in his position, to date a mob boss. Olivia huffed, moving to turn away from the newest woman she would soon forget. “Olivia.” Bastien warned, his voice lacking all warmth it usually had when he spoke to her, he was using the voice he used when he was dealing with one of his men. Olivia turned back towards the pair rolling her eyes, her hands moving to rest on her hips. “What? This one is just going to leave like all the rest! You promised I wouldn’t have to meet anymore of them, remember? Or did you forget?” Olivia replied her voice going higher and dripping with disdain for the new woman she was being forced to meet. She narrowed her emerald eyes at the offending woman before her, she didn’t care to even know her name, it’s not like she would need to remember it anyway. The woman shifted awkwardly on the balls on her sneaker clad feet, a grimace forming on her face, unsure how to handle the tension surrounding her. Olivia smirked, her hand coming up to cover her mouth to conceal her snicker. She had never seen one this nervous before, this just proved her point that she wasn’t good enough for Bastien and would run like all the rest before too long. The woman shifted her stance, straightening her back, standing tall, her hand gently touching Bastien’s shoulder. “I got this Bas, give us a second.” She stated with a smile. Olivia stifled a snort at the multi colored hair woman’s sudden change in demeanor, she obviously thought she could could fool her younger counterpart. Olivia would show that she could not be won, could not be easily swayed. This one was no different than all the rest and she would not allow herself to be sucked in. She wouldn’t allow this one to change things for her, take the only one who ever showed her love and affection from her. “Are you sure Liza?” Bastien questioned, his eyebrow raising in question. Olivia stifled a snicker, even her father knew this woman couldn’t handle her. Who did this “Liza” think she was? Did she really think she could sweet talk her way in? Did Liza really think anything she said could make Olivia trust her? “I’m sure, I’ve got this, she doesn’t scare me.” Liza replied, her voice strong and sure. Olivia fought and failed to suppress a chuckle at Liza’s sudden one hundred and eighty degree shift. Bastien shot her a warning glare. He kissed Liza on the lips making Olivia want to gag at the open display of affection. Bastien shot her one last warning glare before leaving Olivia with the woman named Liza. Olivia narrowed her eyes, practically shooting daggers at the older woman. I wonder how badly I could scare her with my blade. A smirk curled on her lips at the thought. “I get it Olivia, I do. You don’t like me and don’t think I’ll stick around and therefore think I’m not worth even learning my name, am I right?” Liza stated, staring down Olivia, showing zero sign of backing down. Olivia rolled her eyes, huffing in disapproval. She didn’t have any interest in Liza or her reasons why she would be different. She’d heard it a million times before, it was always ‘give me a chance to show you I’m different, that I’m not going anywhere’ and in the end they all left—every single one of them. At first Olivia had allowed herself to get attached, by the time she was twelve she realized none of them would stay around and kept them all at arms length. Nothing this one could say could make her change her mind or let down her guard.   “What you don’t realize is we have far more in common than you think.” Liza stated moving closer to the teen. Olivia forcibly rolled her emerald eyes, recrossing her arms over her chest. There was no chance she had anything in common with this latest fling, there was absolutely nothing she could say to make her change her mind. “My father isn’t a boss, but he holds rank. My mom ran off when I was young, she wasn’t fit for the life, or to be a mother. I clung to my father and didn’t trust any woman he brought home either, they could never handle it. I worked hard to drive them all away. Eventually he stopped dating altogether. He was respectful of my feelings, but now he’s alone and has no one. I’m across the country and he’s all alone because of me and my behavior. He still refuses to date to keep from upsetting me. It may be his choice now, but it’s because of my actions he’s alone. Believe me when I say I’m different, I’m not going anywhere. I will never leave, you or your father. I came from this life and I understand it. I can be good for Bastien, and you if you let me in.” Liza explained. She calmly turned on her heel, her multicolored hair swishing behind her. She turned back towards Olivia, “you may want to be a tad nicer to him. Stop giving him a hard time. Do you really want to be the reason he’s alone when you’re grown up?” She turned back around leaving the room allowing Olivia time to think about what she said. Olivia stood staring slack jawed, she truly never thought this woman could know anything about her, let alone understand how she was feeling. She didn’t want to be the reason that Bastien would be alone. She wasn’t sure, but she felt like maybe she could give this one a chance.

Present day; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: “So you were just planned on slinking out of here?” Olivia asked, her voice tinged with hurt and anger. Liza opened her mouth, only to close it again. Could she make Olivia understand that she needed to leave? She hated that she was this weak woman, she had always prided herself on being strong. She thought she could handle this life, but she was wrong. If she was stronger she could stay. If she had been stronger she never would have lost their child, never let that weasel get the better of her. But she wasn’t, she wasn’t strong, she never was. She was this weak woman who couldn’t protect herself, let alone her child. Bastien deserved someone strong, someone who could protect herself. The tears fell freely once more. Will they ever dry up and let me be? She was weak enough, she didn’t need to cry every time she thought of what she lost, what she had no choice but to give up. “You wouldn’t understand Liv.” She replied, voice breaking with emotion. “Wouldn’t understand what? That you lied? That when you promised me ten years ago you had known one day you’d leave? Did you even mean to stay this long?” Olivia questioned, her anger growing, arms crossed over her chest like when they first met. She felt hurt, she hated feeling hurt, it made her feel weak. She needed to put back up her walls and defend herself.   “Liv, you have to understand, I never intended to leave.” Liza responded. She pushed up her sunglasses wiping at the tears, but they kept coming, she was starting to think they’d never stop. “I thought that I was meant to be here, that I belonged here. I’m just not strong enough Liv. He deserves better than me.” Olivia’s eyes went wide, her mouth forming an o, as she gaped at Liza. She was surprised by Liza’s admission. She always thought she was strong, she was the only person besides Bastien to ever put Olivia in her place. And she’d done it on more than one occasion. Why would she now think she was too weak? What could have changed that much in her that she would question her own strength? “What are you talking about Liza? Did you see the way you took down that greasy weasel?” Olivia questioned. “That’s the thing Liv, I failed. I failed Bas, our child, myself. Sure he’s dead, but so is my child, if it wasn’t for you I would be dead too.” Liza sobbed. How could Olivia think her greatest failure was a win, a proof of her strength? “Liza, I didn’t do anything. You took him down by yourself.” Olivia responded more confused than ever. “Maybe, but if you hadn’t been following me I would have bled out and died from the wound he managed to inflict. I was so focused on the blade I could see I completely forgot he might have one concealed. My misstep cost me my child and if it weren’t for you it would have cost me my life. So no Liv, I can’t stay, I’m not strong enough.” Liza replied, moving to walk around Olivia. Olivia sidestepped, blocking Liza. “No. He caught you off guard, so what? I didn’t see that second blade until it was sticking out of your side. So no. Stop saying you are weak, stop blaming yourself. I know you, you are tougher than you know. Any other woman Bas brought home would have wilted and walked away that day, but not you. No you saw me for the scared girl I was inside and you called my ass out and then helped me become who I am. What did you tell me the first time some dumb boy broke my heart?” She asked. She refused to just let her leave. “You’re stronger than you think and don’t let any dumb boy break you.” Liza recounted, her bloodshot hazel eyes rolling back into her head. “But this is different Liv.” “No it’s not. You are stronger than you think. Don’t let him break you. Get angry, fight back! Don’t wallow and cry and slink away. That’s not the woman who raised me.” Olivia countered. “Besides, Bas would completely lose it if he lost you because of this. He needs you, we need you. I may have been a stubborn brat, but you pushed back, you need to do that again. Sure be sad about what you lost, but don’t let it destroy you, don’t let it destroy your relationship.” Liza stood rooted to the ground, she knew Olivia would never get it, never understand. Why did she think she could explain and make her see her side? She was still the stubborn girl she had met all those years ago, of course she wouldn’t break. She stared at her best friend, willing herself to speak, her feet to move, anything but just stand there. She loved him, loved them both, this was the girl she helped raise, she was as much her daughter as her friend, could she really walk away from them both so easily? Liza shook the doubts from her head, she had to leave. Leaving was for the best, wasn’t it? “Olivia, move.” She said, her voice shaking less than she expected. She had to, this was for the best.

Crimson Rain Masterlist Masterlist Tags: @imafictosexual @speedyoperarascalparty @liamxs-world @annekebbphotography @tanyaschoices @hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @ao719 @blackwidow2721 @katurrade @leelee10898 @stopforamoment  @akrenich @gardeningourmet @bella-ca @carabeth @bobbersb-fanficfun  @endlessflame @kadencantarella @innerpostmentality @imma-winchester-addict @tornbetween2loves @cora-nova @indiacater @traeumerinwitzhelden @blackcatkita @darley1101 @alexpottrechoices  @lolablackwrites

[snkpolls]

SnK S3E06 Poll Results (Manga Reader Version)

The poll closed with 490 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that this is the results of the manga reader poll. Anime only watchers are suggested not to read if you do not wish to be spoiled about certain events! Anime only viewers, click here to view your poll results!

NOTE: Another week, a few more mess ups and overlooked things. Upon realizing that we are rushing ourselves a bit too much and the poll dropping in quality is the unfortunate side effect, we will be moving the poll to Tuesdays from this point forward. This will allow us more time to see what others are discussing, think up questions, make sure we’ve touched on all of the important points, and to proofread more thoroughly before publishing. Thank you for being patient with us throughout this whole process! We apologize for our mess ups over the last couple of weeks.

RATE THE EPISODE 478 Responses

Overall the episode got high rankings and positive reviews!

I loved it, just wish they had given the Grisha vs Frieda segment more time and fully animated it rather than show it in flashes and stills. Though it wouldn't surprise me if they do later when we get his full story.

It was awesome! I'm starting to enjoy this season more with each episode. I'm hyped for the action next episode.

the best episode so far

Once the uprising arc is done, this episode will definitely be included in my favorite episodes list.

I was skeptical at first of the changes they were making to Frieda's foreshadowing, but the sequencing of events in the episode made up for it! Everything flowed so smoothly, from Eren's memories to Historia's, introducing the concept of mindwipe immunity followed immediately by Kenny's old talk with his grandpa. Each point led right into the next.

This week's episode felt almost slow with the way it ended. I'm not complaining, although I feel the sting of all those missed moments that got cut off prior to this.

This episode was freaking awesome. I keep replaying the scene where Eren sees Grisha's memories. The whole sequence and the OST is amazing!!

When it comes to rating these last few eps, I keep second-guessing myself on how to rate them. On the one hand, they've been fairly faithful to the manga and the animation, as always, has been top notch. So in that aspect they are good and deserve a high rating. It's just that the Uprising arc is so incredibly dull to me, that I am also not exactly excited about these eps and probably will skip all of them on future rewatches. But the anime is not to blame for that.  ¯\_㋡_/¯

ep of the season so far

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES DID YOU ENJOY THE MOST? 485 Responses

Eren unlocking Grisha’s memories was the big moment of the episode, winning the majority vote. Followed closely is Historia unlocking her memories of Frieda, Rod’s retelling of Grisha’s attack and Kenny’s flashback to his talk with his grandpa.

I also enjoyed the Ackerman talk, it gives more significance to what’s to come in the future

OPENING SCENE WAS BOMB

I absolutely love Frieda! She was the greatest sister ever. Too bad she had to die so young. I liked her voice as well :) The scene with her and Historia symbolized peace, love and happiness, while the scenes in the crystal cave symbolized pain and sorrow. I liked that.

KENNYKENNYKENNYKENNYKENNY

Is it weird that I liked the Zacklay part more than the flashback? C:

My fav scene was when Mikasa and Levi were talking about Mikasa's past and their awaking of power

Really liked the focus on each character when Levi asked them if they were ready to get their hands dirty. They looked resolved.

The Ackertalk!!!!!!!!

ON A SCALE OF “I’D RATHER IT WAS DIFFERENT” TO “SAWANO IS A GENIUS!” HOW MUCH HAVE YOU BEEN ENJOYING THE SOUNDTRACK TO THE SEASON SO FAR? 482 Responses

As expected of Sawano! The majority of respondents are enjoying the music this season. A few think the picks could be better, however.

The OST in this season has been awesome.

To the music part: I haven't found a track that really stands out, I want something as good as youseebigttgirl

WHAT IS YOUR REACTION TO EREN’S MEMORY SEQUENCE? 477 Responses

The majority of respondents were overall pleased with the way that Eren’s flashes of the altercation in the cave went down. A few would rather it have been different.

Frieda was beautiful and that's all I care about

I love the way wit did Eren's eyes during the flashback sequence. Honestly it made me feel more like dead

I loved it, some amazing voice acting with Erens scream at the end

While the fast flashes made total sense to me as a narrative choice I would have personally liked it better if it was Slower

Great paths depiction, mindblowing OST, not biggest fan of how they presented goblin Eren in just two still images

Pretty awesome. I don't like how Frieda's titan looks however, I thought that the manga design gave off a far more divine and powerful aura than the anime one, which honestly just looks like a regular titan with different eyes.

The P A T H S visuals were beautiful but I feel like the flashbacks themselves could have been done better. The RIP Grisha scene was practically still images when it could have been one of the most visceral and intense moments in the series. Idk I just found the flashbacks themselves very underwhelming

openly sobbing

Eren’s shocked expression while seeing those memories/listening to rod talk makes me feel bad for him all over again, but WIT also gave a lot of shots of his abs and back muscles *-* like, idk if I wanna hug him or fuck him

could've been much better. kid Eren screaming after realizing he ate his dad was heartbreaking though

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT THE MECHANICS OF ZACKLEY’S “ART”? 479 Responses

It goes without saying that most respondents were put off by Zackley’s torture device, although there’s a sizable amount who did find it amusing. Generally speaking, most fans aren’t happy about the scene being included overall.

AoT will end, but Art will last forever

I HATE THE SHIT MACHINE!!!!!!

I cant believe we got the shit machine! Art is still alive!

I feel kinda tired of the whole shitmachine stuff. What is so special about some old, fat, ugly, nude, sweating dude who was forced to drink own piss? Why so many fans is obsessed with it? The episode had so many great moments - but almost everything I'm actually hearing about it this dumb shitbitchmachine.

I still fail to see what that machine added to this part of the story....

HOW DADDY IS ERWIN’S NEW HAIRDO? 480 Responses

Although there were mixed responses, overall the fandom is digging the new hairdo. Many even think Commander Handsome is looking even more dashing than before! ;)

Can we get more scenes with Erwin being Commander Handsome?

Erwin looks much younger now on my opinion XD

OMG ERWIIIIIIIIIN SO HOT

GRISHA’S EYES WERE GLOWING GREEN BEFORE HE ATE FRIEDA, AND THEY STARTED GLOWING PURPLE AFTERWARDS. DO YOU THINK THIS HAS ANY MEANING? 481 Responses

The overwhelming majority believe that the glowing eyes do have significant meaning. We covered this concept in more detail a few questions down!

Erens attack Titans eyes glow green too, I think it's just for effects

Yes, Frieda was not tasty and Grisha's stomach hort a lot after eating her

I didn't even noticed XD But I'm not sure if it has any meaning

Super saiyan

Frieda's eyes were purple during her Titan transformation. Grisha's eyes changing to the same colour after he ate Frieda, meant that he gained the Founding Titan power, gained Frieda's memories and the memories of the previous Founding Titan holders.

It could hardly be a slip of the hand in the animation department. They did it for a reason

The purple is the same as Frieda's Titan so it's likely because he came in contact with a Titan with Royal Blood and that changed his Titan's eye color

it's his magical girl transformation

WHICH TITAN WORE THEIR CHEST HAIR BETTER? 478 Responses

This was a close one! But ultimately Grisha inched just a few percentage points above Zeke. The commentary also reflects this and, frankly, we are a bit concerned. Are you guys okay?

Gaston ain't got nothing on Grisha Titan's chest hair.

Grisha's titan can spank me

Titan Grisha can mount me anytime.

WHEN FRIEDA READS HISTORIA THE FAIRY TALE, THE “GOOD GIRL” CHARACTER IS NAMED KRISTA. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS ADDITION?  478 Responses

It was a close split between excitement over seeing (or rather, being reminded) how Historia got the name “Krista” for her persona  and those who are questioning the validity of the name in the book. We also received plenty of snarky reminders that we overlooked the detail of this being mentioned in chapter 51. Perhaps it’s time for us to take a week off!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I love how they’re differentiating the Marleyan legend from the Eldian one

I thought I was supposed to be Ymir, but I think it’s a really interesting addition to how Historia got the name Krista.

Since we know Rod gave her the name Krista, it felt kinda irrelevant. It also somehow implies that Krista's personality is the result of what remained in Historia's head from Frieda's preaching which I don't think was necessary to justify at all. Historia could've chosen to be the kind of girl Krista is by herself.

I love how, as time passed and memories changes, Ymir Fritz became Krista Lenz. And so, both Ymir and Historia got named by someone else after the same person. I love it.

It's not really an addition since her name appeared in the manga (at the beginning of chapter 51 when Historia goes crazy)

It did make things pretty confusing. I think that the government could've entirely changed the story of Ymir and the titan's and renamed Ymir in the books, and that's why she is now called Christa.

On one hand I think it's appropriate because the Reiss family didn't want Historia to know the Eldian history, yet I think the specific name of Krista wasn't a great decision because as I remember it, Rod was the one who made Historia take on the name Krista, so to suggest that Historia chose it because of that story is inconsistent.

‪Historia did say Krista was “a girl from a book she read as a child” in chapter 51, but learning in chapter 86 that the girl is Ymir Fritz led some people to believe that, back then, Historia was referring only to the girl's personality and not her name. The anime just clarified that in Frieda's book she is indeed named Krista, perhaps suggesting the story has different versions in Marley/the world and Paradis.‬

IT’S CONFIRMED THAT GRISHA’S AND FRIEDA’S TITANS HAD GLOWING EYES, SIMILAR TO THE PURE TITANS THAT THE COORDINATE CONTROLLED, DO YOU THINK THIS RELATES TO EREN’S EYES GLOWING IN LIBERIO? 466 Responses

As reflected above, most respondents believe that the glowing eyes do bear significance. 41% of voters believe that it’s indicative of the power of the titan taking over its host, while 32% believe the significance is something else. 16% of voters think it’s simply just a cool aesthetic effect. 

I don't understand anything any more

Woah I've not thought about that enough to give an answer!!

I have no fucking clue, this stuff is confusing.

I honestly just think those titans happen to have glowing eyes. Nothing more.

WHICH TRANSITION DID YOU LIKE BETTER? 479 Responses

70% loved the transition of Kenny looking into the knife and revealing his younger self. 

I truly love Kenny <3

Kenny is beautiful and the transition from younger to older Kenny in the reflection of his knife was my absolute favorite part of the entire episode.

Kenny was a highlight in this episode once again, I especially loved the flashback scene with him and grandpa Ackerman talking about family history after Levi and Mikasa's Ackertalk. The transition back to Levi was really unsubtle, though.

WHICH PV SCENE ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO THE MOST? 482 Responses

Generally, the majority are most looking forward to the showdown between Squad Levi/Hange vs. the Interior MP Squad. About 31% of voters altogether are looking forward more to more Jaeger/Reiss focus, however! 

Can I vote again for Hange is a BAMF?

i honestly don't care at all about the interior MP v.s squad levi fight. I just wanna get back to the reiss/jaeger action

Give me Levi yelling Hange's name or give me DEATH

can't wait for the next episode and the showdown!!!

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

Finally we arrived to my favorite part of this arc. Even though it doesn't have that much action as the other seasons, this is the part I love the most. Knowing how Eren got the Attack AND the Founding titans, Historia becoming the rightful queen of the walls, Levi's backstory, Kenny's dream and his friendship with Rod Reiss' brother, learning that there's a world outside of the walls by Keith Shadis; all of this until the fight against the collosal and armored titans back in Shignashina district and everybody discovering the sea.

Now I finally understand why Kenny killed so many MP officers. I used to believe he had done that for fun. Now I know he did that to protect his family. I really enjoyed the moments between him and his grandpa - it made me to feel how important the bloodline was for him.

I'm a bit disappointed that they made Frieda's titan hair black, I was hoping for it to be a lighter colour, and I preferred the lighter hair a bit more. But overall her titan form was pretty cool!

They left out the part where Kenny tells Rod he is looking for a bathroom because he has to go #2! ಠ_ಠ How could they skip that after they included the whole poop machine scene?! I also wasn’t sure how I felt about the girl being named Krista in the book being read to Historia. I thought that was supposed to be Ymir. Otherwise, the episode was superb.

Erwin is my husband and I love it when he goes into Commander Mode™. Also so not ready for more information about Levi’s childhood, and yet also I need to see Little Levi™ at the same time

FRIEDA WAS GREAT

Now that two big plot points are over (the overthrowing of the government and Grisha’s deed) and another one is under way, I can say this season is so underwhelming compared to the manga. There is no suspense, no feeling of satisfaction, no tension, because they cut too many parts in the beginning that hinted at future events (eren’s experiments for examples) and simplified characters’ moral struggles that i think are understandable only to us manga readers because “we know”. I think, for a story (the one of uprising) that relied on suspense so much, this lighting-fast, confusing pace just made every victory totally underwhelming. I’m left with a feeling of “oh...okay” and i am hating it because the Uprising Arc is my favorite manga Arc.

With this episode I'm back to being sad about how coldly Erwin is portrayed again, but I guess that is just the way it's going to be. I don't think anyone can be as successful of a leader as Erwin has been with such a cold and uncaring facade, so I'm just going to agree to disagree with Isayama and WIT how a character like Erwin should be portrayed. The only positive about the anime is how Erwin's developing depression is really hammered home in this and the previous episode. From the manga it was quite unclear to me how all that had happened, but now I can see the progression very clearly starting from Erwin's little talk with Zackley the Creepy Artist and continuing with Pixis' merciless opinion of Erwin and his gamble.

Yeah for all the flashbaCks! And omg Frieda!! I love her sooo much! I was looking forward to see her in this episode and I'm not disappointed at all! I just wanted to hug her and little Historia! ;-;

THOUGHTS ON EPISODE 5:

104th celebrating their freedom was dope

I really loved this episode because Erwin had his chance to shine for once. I especially loved the foreshadowing of what a huge mistake they might have just made with the coup d'état. And I loved seeing my second favourite commander, Nile, as well! He's been growing on me for a longer while now, but the anime is really reminding me how Nile has always been a sensible but kind person.

Episode was ok. The cinematography of the episode was rather lacking at points and without some of the conversations with Nile and Pixis, the confrontation is somewhat oversimplified.

The conversation between Erwin and Zackley broke my heart. Implying the two would have anything in common is outrageous, and Erwin's reaction to the comparison is the proof of it. Erwin was so human and vulnerable in that moment that I thought finally they did justice to his character.

EREN'S ABS WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH TO REPLACE ERWIN'S AND LEVI'S ABS!!! THAT'S THE WORST BETRAYAL EVER, WIT!!!!!

I like that there is more and more dialogue and information during the recent episodes!

i thought it was good. at the time i was sad the "do you remember your father's sin" reveal wasn't the cliffhanger but since it was the opening for this episode and it was amazing in my opinion i have no problems.

Eren is hot

Erwin=Daddy

That cliffhanger with Historia was great! I wonder if they'll be able to replicate the one in the manga where it looks like she's about to inject herself. It'll be disappointing if they don't.

The Hange monologue at the end, however, with Levi's input was really weird and it didn't make much sense to me how they could infer so many ""clues"" about the truth and the Reiss family from what Hange was telling. The same is true about Armin's sudden but oh so convenient musings about how Eren inherited his titan powers. It was clear foreshadowing, but really badly executed.

i was waiting for this question on ep 5 poll, thnks! Well my thought were "there's no way they'll animate the shit machine" and "I WANT MOAR LEVI"

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 468 Responses

We overlooked a platform this week, our apologies! 

Oi where's the 4chan option

Thank you again to everyone who participated. We’ll see you back on Tuesday! 

[rebelmeg]

Let's Get Personal

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?  Recently, it's been "Secret Love Song" by Little Mix, "Poison" by Rita Ora, "What Ifs" by Kane Brown and Lauren Alaina, "U and Ur Hand" by P!nk, "Perfect Matchup" by Kenny and London Holland, and The Greatest Showman soundtrack 2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?  Robert Downey Jr. 3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.  “When was the last night or day you took time off?” 4: What do you think about most?  Writing.  A new idea, a current idea, something I need to jot down, something I need to fix, the one I want to read. 5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?  I'm fine, unless you want the time. 6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?  Underwear. 7: What’s your strangest talent?  Personalizing or adding to things that probably do not need to be personalized.  (The beige Calvin Klein purse was BORING so I defiled something expensive to make it more “me”.) 8: Finish the sentence.  Girls… are strong; Boys… are allowed to be soft. 9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?  Not that I know of. 10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?  I'm not an air guitar person, I have a THING about looking stupid and I’m certain that I can’t pull off looking cool doing air guitar. 11: Do you have any strange phobias?  Nah, just the regular ones. 12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?  Don't think so? 13: What’s your religion?  LDS 14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?  Walking to my car. 15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?  Behind, definitely. 16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?  I do hate this question.  I'll go with Queen, it's the first one that popped into my head. 17: What was the last lie you told?  I don't recall. 18: Do you believe in karma?  Eh, sorta 19: What does your URL mean?  I am and have always been a little bit of a rebel. 20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?  Weakness, personal motivation and time management.  Strength, creativity. 21: Who is your celebrity crush?  RDJ and Sebastian Stan 22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?  Yep. 23: How do you vent your anger?  Stewing about it, venting to other people. 24: Do you have a collection of anything?  Soooo many collections... I collect shot glasses as my travel souvenir. 25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?  Phone. 26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?  For the most part. 27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?  Permanent markers on cardboard boxes give me the heebie-jeebie shivers, the sound of a soda pop tab opening a can makes me swoon with happiness. 28: What’s your biggest “what if”?  I'm not sure.  Maybe what if I'd married someone else (not a desire at all, but something I've wondered about from time to time), my life would be entirely different from what it is now. 29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?  No and yes, but not in the traditional sense. 30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.  The chair next to me on the right, the child that is being clingy on the left. 31: Smell the air. What do you smell?  My house and my perfume. 32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?  A casino. 33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?  I've never been to the East Coast, so I can't really say. 34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?  Oh geez, I don't know. 35: To you, what is the meaning of life?  To do your best, be kind, and be happy. 36: Define Art.  Life made viewable. 37: Do you believe in luck?  Not really. 38: What’s the weather like right now?  Rainstorm is heading this way. 39: What time is it?  9:31 am 40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?  Yep and yep.  Not a big crash, though, minor one.  Fixed the alignment! 41: What was the last book you read?  Currently reading "Blood Fury" by JR Ward 42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?  Don't mind it as long as it's not too strong. 43: Do you have any nicknames?  A fair slew.  Meg, Megs, Rebel, Mom, Mama, and then standard endearments. 44: What was the last film you saw?  Geostorm, I think. 45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?  Not sure if this counts as an injury, but I ended up in the hospital with a miscarriage that required surgery.  If that doesn't count, I broke my foot falling out of a tree. 46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?  Yep!  I found one on the grass once during recess as a kid when it was raining, it was close to getting crushed by the other kids playing ball. I held it cupped in my hands so I could show my teacher, its wings dried while I held it, and it flew away while we all watched. 47: Do you have any obsessions right now?  Fandom ones, heck yeah. 48: What’s your sexual orientation?  Straight. 49: Ever had a rumor spread about you?  Probably. 50: Do you believe in magic?  Everyday magic, yes. 51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?  Yeah. 52: What is your astrological sign?  Libra 53: Do you save money or spend it?  I spend like it's burning a hole in my pocket. 54: What’s the last thing you purchased?  Lunch last week. 55: Love or lust?  Love 56: In a relationship?  Yes 57: How many relationships have you had?  Just one serious one. 58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?  Not quite. 59: Where were you yesterday?  Home. 60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?  My elbow is resting on a pair of my daughter's pink underwear. 61: Are you wearing socks right now?  Yep, I love socks. 62: What’s your favorite animal?  Bears, penguins, peacocks, owls, dogs. 63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?  Being kind and friendly. 64: Where is your best friend?  Teaching school. 65: Give me your top 5 favorite blogs on Tumblr.  Oh geez, I can't narrow it down to just five! 66: What is your heritage? Mostly British, good mix of other UK and European ancestors, I’m a 2nd generation American. 67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?  Watching Gilmore Girls and folding laundry. 68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?  Don't think he has one. 69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?  Of course. 70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?  I hope so. 71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?  Save the dog quickly. 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die?  Yes, everyone. b) What do you do with your remaining days? Be as happy as possible and spend as much time with the people I love as possible.  c) Would you be afraid?  Heck yes. 73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.  A huge part of love IS trust, so love. 74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?  Goody Goody by Julie Lavery, it's an upbeat, bouncy song.  (Which is funny, because the lyrics tell a sad story) 75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?  Nope, I use it as a passcode for stuff sometimes. 76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?  Humor, taking care of each other. 77: How can I win your heart?  Interact with me. 78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?  Yep. 79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?  To start writing again. 80: What size shoes do you wear?  7 81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?  *shrugs* Something nice. 82: What is your favorite word?  Popcorn.  I love the sound and the visual appearance of the way the letters are arranged. 83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.  Love, courage, strength. 84: What is a saying you say a lot?  "Best thing ever!" 85: What’s the last song you listened to?  "Hey Soul Sister" by Train 86: Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors?  Purple! 87: What is your current desktop picture?  Shamrocks 88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?  I don't know enough to be able to make that decision.  Also, too many corrupt world leaders to narrow it down, I think. 89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?  I can think of many. 90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?  "I am too tired for this nonsense, either sit down and chill or go downstairs and wait until morning." 91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?  Time manipulation without accelerated aging.  I just want to be able to nap whenever I want and have time to catch up on my Netflix list... 92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?  The first time my hubby and I held hands when we were dating.  It was perfect and absolutely adorable. 93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?  Ugh, I'm not sure, there are two that immediately spring to mind that were pretty awful. 94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?  I have no idea. 95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?  Europe.  Anywhere in Europe, but particularly the UK. 96: Do you have any relatives in jail?  I don't think so? 97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?  I'm sure I did when I was a kid, but not that I can remember. 98: Ever been on a plane?  Finally went on one for the first time a couple years ago! 99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?  Be kind.

[greenchristopher22937-blog]

CHRISTMAS WREATH

Finding the Best Holiday Wreaths - 'Tis nearly the season, and that implies you would do well to get in the finishing soul! The Christmas season is a much needed reprieve from the earthy colored, inauspiciousness of fall, and it helps cause the chilly climate to appear to be more comfortable and inviting. 

The most ideal approach to take the chill off the winter is to put resources into delightful Christmas enhancements. Regardless of whether the "chill" of winter in your general vicinity is a soothing 70 degrees, you can get into the occasion temperament with Christmas tree enhancements, laurels, and wreaths. Wreaths, particularly, have a long history and close relationship with Christmas. 

You can discover exquisite occasion wreaths in quite a few great materials, styles, and sizes. Where is the best spot to get them? What amount would it be a good idea for you to hope to pay? This guide will assist you with preparing for the blissful season.

A Bit About Christmas Wreaths - Christmas wreaths have long roots ever; the Ancient Romans utilized the wreath as an image of triumph, and Eastern Europeans used to make wreaths of evergreen and light them with candles to represent daylight and spring - two things we are in desperate need of in the winter! The Christmas wreath itself started as a Christian convention. 

A wreath of evergreens was made - to represent never-ending life - and four candles were orchestrated around it. Generally, three of the candles were a violet or purple shading and the fourth was rose. This speaks to the a month of Advent. Numerous Christians, especially Catholics, actually have Advent wreaths in their homes and light a flame every week in anticipation of the Christmas festivity. 

Much more normal today, however, is the ring of evergreens, embellished with pine cones, bows, and different improvements. Christmas wreaths have become an occasion exemplary, an image as much for warmth and family with respect to the introduction of Jesus.

The Best Christmas Wreaths: Made by Hand - The best Advent and Christmas wreaths are made by hand, yet huge numbers of us can't go in our lawn and gather evergreen limbs and pinecones. In the event that you can, amazing! All you need is some wreath wire to make the round structure or a pre-made wreath outline. These are accessible modestly (It is about $3 for a 18-inch outline), and the casing will be your greatest cost. 

From that point, you fold your pine branches over and secure them with wire. Include a few pinecones, bows, false berries, and different Christmas enrichments, and your vacation wreath is finished. In the event that you don't have evergreen trees accessible, you can go to a specialty store and buy reasonable looking pine or evergreen branches. However, you can likewise utilize the chance to make an alternate, yet similarly dazzling, occasion wreath. Use Eucalyptus showers, ivy, or other greenery or dried spices you find at the art store. 

This is especially decent on the off chance that you live in a territory where pine trees are an extraordinariness. It incorporates both the occasion soul and your own home. You can likewise swear off the greenery through and through and develop a wreath utilizing round Christmas tree trimmings, plastic berries, treats, Christmas cards, or even conduit tape. On the off chance that you need to make your own however are too occupied to even consider fetching the provisions, you can discover wreath-production packs. 

The Advent Wreath Kit from Wilson Evergreens, for example, incorporates all that you have to make a wonderful wreath for under $30. Best of all, you can utilize it quite a long time after year. You can likewise discover plain, unadorned fake wreaths. You would then be able to adorn these with bows and other fun enhancements. Once more, you can likewise attempt a non-customary methodology: rather than evergreen, purchase an unadorned grapevine wreath. You would then be able to enliven it for a straightforward, exquisite look. 

This is a reasonable, yet ravishing alternative. Around the Christmas season, search for privately made wreaths. 'Tis consistently the season to help neighborhood sellers and craftspeople. Regardless of where you live, you ought to have the option to discover high quality occasion wreaths available to be purchased. Wreath-production is a famous pledge drive, so you could support a nearby reason while getting a flawlessly made occasion wreath.

In the event that you don't have the opportunity or tendency to make your own Christmas wreaths, there is positively no deficiency of chance to buy them. To begin with, choose if you'd like characteristic or counterfeit occasion wreaths. Each has its advantages. A genuine wreath not just looks extraordinary, it smells incredible. It tends to be hung outside or in, and it is happy long past Christmas. 

These can be pricey, however, particularly on the off chance that you need to transport it in from another territory. Counterfeit Christmas wreaths will in general be more affordable. You can discover exceptionally practical looking ones, and you can utilize them a seemingly endless amount of time after year. You can discover online hotspots for genuine Christmas wreaths. ATreeAtYourDoor, for example, offers both Christmas trees and wreaths. A 24-inch wreath made of normal and fragrant Fraser fir costs $20. 

This is without ornamentation. You can include a Christmas bow for a couple of dollars more. A 20-inch brightened Balsam wreath is $20. In the event that you need to purchase genuine Christmas wreaths, search for merchants that offer a 100% fulfillment ensure. Adding lights to Christmas wreaths is a famous thought, and you can discover pre-made wreaths that join sparkle lights securely and successfully. An extraordinary decision is the Green River Spruce 24-Inch Wreath from GKI Bethlehem Lighting . 

This dazzling, rich Christmas wreath is made of PE and PVC highlighted with greenery like stems, amethyst-scented leaves, little pine cones, and 50 clear scaled down lights. These are secured in their attachments, wellbeing confirmed, and UL recorded. The string remains lit in the event that one light goes out. The GKI Bethlehem Lighting occasion wreath accompanies a 10-year restricted guarantee. One glad client stated, "It is tasteful without improvement over-burden." It blends various types of needles, both pine and tidy. "Looks quite practical for a 'phony wreath.'" You can locate this excellent wreath for $40. Lights, Christmas, and Thomas Kinkade go together like winter and hot cocoa. 

The well known Thomas Kinkade Victorian Christmas Village Wreath, for example, includes a flawlessly carefully assembled, stand-out wreath with a Victorian town topic. In excess of 20 hand-painted characters elegance the wreath, and you will see windows in 7 structures lit, just as 11 enchanting lamps. It is really a show-stopper that you'll cherish for quite a long time. It is $99. The best Christmas or occasion wreath is the one that encourages you make sure to pause for a moment and welcome the magnificence of the period. Give yourself the endowment of excellence.