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manytoonepoet13 · 5 months

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Fragaria Memories - Ever Red Visual Analysis Essay

"I still remember, the sun, the memories, and the lack of guidance, shown in this cross section of this red pieces/fragment. Truth/reality, even in time, you can't take it away. Forever certain, this is something I will not forget."

(Duration of Analysis: December 2023 - April 2024).

A. Wiki (Intro Tab: Overview of the story section).

The mains of each bouquet is shown through little fragments with the colour of their respectively bouquet. Though, note that Cielomort and Badobarm's fragments are showcasing their entire face, this shows that they're a whole, complete, untouched by the corruption of the anxiety brought by the seeds.

Now, look at Hallritt's fragment, a part of his face is cut-off right across the surface of his fragment, "Cross section of this piece/fragment". His purity - something so precious to him was taken away, not only that, but it was reversed. He was reversed, giving birth to his alter-ego, this evil Hallritt. Additionally, the part that was taken out matches perfectly with the "evil" part shown in the mv - this being a little clue for what is to come.

B. Music Video (Analyzing frames that feel important).

From what I've noticed while watching the mv, it has this margin that maintained throughout the mv, which is rather reminiscent of a camera, befitting the line "I still remember", 0:55, that would pop up along the intro. The connection here is that he's recalling these memories as if he was watching them through an old videotape. Though since his and his friend's memories don't align, it felt like an error in his mind (think of a movie where you told your friend about a certain scene and they disregard it, saying that it didn't happen in the movie and told you about a completely different scene instead), therefore causing the glitches we frequently see in the mv.

Another connection to the glitches is this shot of the Fragaria crest with impeccable lighting, I may add, making everything look oh so great before the "camera fell" and the lenses shattered (shown in various scenes throughout the mv but it's more prominent in this scene), the everything became lone, corrupted and gray, 1:05 - 1:11.

Who was holding the camera you might ask? Hallritt. After all, the ones who get to hold the camera are those who get to tell the story (quote pointed out by my best friend).

This is due to the reason that 1.) This is Hallritt's pov and he's the main character and 2.) He's too optimistic - Merold, 2024.

He's always excited whenever he's given the chance to help, he's passionate about fulfilling his duty that it feels like his joy and love for his job and the people around him is overflowing. This is why he's holding the camera, the one who got to tell the story. The one who caused all of this.

The next scene needed to be taken into account is the overlapping clocks 1:28 - this may symbolizes the, as the name suggests, overlapping of timelines. - As we know, there are two separate timelines, told by the voice dramas and the songs. The latter somewhat foreshadowing what happened in the past timeline.

Other than that, I have a feeling that maybe, just maybe, there might be a timeloop in Fragaria.

Now, why do I think there's a possible timeloop?

CLOCKS. While yes, the clocks may mean that time has passed and they can no longer turn it back, they could also mean that they are running out of time before the loop restarts.

I'll assume that it's the seeds' corruption on Hallritt that allowed this timeloop to start. And this aligns with the seeds' form of corruption as well, anxiety.

This timeloop theory is more on a figurative and psychological sense rather than a literal and physical one. This will be in relation as to how Hallritt was feeling upon being corrupted.

Since the seeds bring anxiety, I believe we should take a look at that. -Many people have repetitive anxious "thoughts" that trigger fear responses and believe they will never be able to get rid of them. - AnxietyCentre.com. "Can't take it away." "I still remember."

This is where the timeloop theory comes into play:

Hallritt's been corrupted, and is now having these anxious thoughts (memories), about causing the destruction during the first timeline. And now in the current timeline, he's once again having these thoughts because he still remembers what he has done, and while he's trying to make a change, he's also anxiously counting down the minutes until it's gonna happen again.

When corruption shall resurface.

After all, the current world is already corrupted, shown in this close up of the Fragaria crest now rusty (shown in various clips). The knowledge and sight of this may be Hallritt's trigger, causing him to have a fear response.

That response being the glitched out image of him and his friends, 3:29, that paired with the margin, makes it look like an actual videotape that one could watch (as pointed out earlier). This may contribute to the next scene where the words "Live in memories" appear, as well as when the color of the background went from, red to white, the red again, only for the transition to take place (which looks like the opening and closing of the eyes, most probably Hallritt's), switching to white once more, then a blur, then gray, with each of the other knights' crest orbiting around Hallritt's before disappearing one by one.

What I would like to pay attention to is the thing is, despite Merold's crest being flashed first, his crest disappeared last, giving the impression that he knows something. Given that earlier, 1:27, him and hallritt were together in the middle of the line "Can't take it away". Other than that, later on, 2:43, he transitioned from his usual color palette to black and white. (Your Melody may give us some insights as to what that may be).

The transition from red, to white then black represents how Hallritt vies the current timeline, how every was so vibrant, rendered to black and white. (This, I believe, is where his repetitive, anxious thoughts is shown).

Other than that, my bestfriend also pointed out that the mv is basically just red, gray, then glitch and repeat, which gives way to the timeloop theory pointed out earlier.

I would also like to point out that in the second timeline, it's not Hallritt that is corrupting the world, it's the world that's corrupting Hallritt. Let me explain; the overlapping of timelines I've mentioned earlier plays here: It is because of that fact why the seeds are still having power over the world, why the Fragarian crest is already rusty, because despite the fact that the timeline restarted, the overlapping caused it to be corrupted by default, further triggering Hallritt's thoughts, leading him to think this will only last until the "end" of time.

"Ever Last".

He can never forget it, he will always be tied down by the ribbon's hold as if he was on a leash, bring everyone down with him, 3:42 - 3:45.

But he doesn't want that, no.

He doesn't want to hurt people, especially since it was all his fault, because of his "lack of guidance".

So he'll just glitch himself out of the picture, just so he'll not cause any more problems, 3:49. After all, that's what he is, right? A glitch?

But if there is one that's certain, "this is something I will never forget".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The knights ask for nothing in return for their love."

#fragaria memories #fragaria sanrio #fragmem #hallritt #why are there so many clocks?????????????#theory #time loop #sanrio #merold #tumblr stuff #analysis #fan theory #discussion

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1moremilgram-enjoyer · 11 months

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Of Celtic Crosses and Wheels of Fortune

Hey there! So as I'm sure most of us are aware by now, in Double, Mikoto's diamond earrings have now changed into earrings which look suspiciously like the tarot card of the Wheel of Fortune, and the symbol also appears repeatedly throughout the MV.

This actually could confirm something I had been suspecting since MeMe regarding how we're meant to read the celtic cross spreads which appear there, and has some interesting symbolism attached to it.

CW Murder, workplace abuse

So it's pretty widely known that there are three different celtic cross spreads which appear throughout MeMe. Here they are:

(The first one actually flashes on screen twice, but there's no noticeable difference between the two appearances so they're assumed to be the same spread)

The third one is filled out by the cards which appear afterwards.

So, how does one read these spreads? ... No seriously, how are we supposed to read them? I don't engage in divination, I don't know what I'm doing. Let's hit up the internet to see how we're supposed to go about this!

Ah, I see. The problem with tarot cross spreads is that the order the querent sets up the cards and the meaning they each have is arbitrary. In fact, as you can see, there's even cultural differences between how Japanese people read it vs how westerners read it. But, is there any way to know how Mikoto reads them? I believe so.

So let's start by what's always the same. The first card always goes in the center of The Wheel (yes that's the name of the thing), the second on top of it, and the last four go bottom to top in The Wand (or The Pillar or some other name). The question comes from the other four cards in The Wheel.

Why is this important? Well, because the order of drawing changes the meaning. If you draw them in a circular fashion (case 2 in the above diagrams), the cards have meaning based on draw order. If you draw them in any other way, they have meaning based on position. This means to know how we're supposed to read them, we need to know how Mikoto draws them.

Thankfully, there is a way I think we can tell. Check out the ending of MeMe:

The second card goes on top of the first, as established. Then, the next four appear with a part of the card off frame. Even though card 3 is off center, only the bottom is cut off. Card 4 has the right cut off, then card 5 has right, then card 6 has top. Thus, the draw order is likely bottom, right, left, top. This... doesn't match any of the websites I checked, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that it's not a circle, so the meaning is related to position.

For our purposes this post, we're interested in the middle three. The left card is the past, the middle (first card) is present, the right is future... in western readings. Look back at the Japanese examples I gave:

未来 is future.

過去 is past.

As you can see, because Japanese people have different reading rules, sometimes they read the spread Past->Present->Future, but sometimes they read it Future<-Present<-Past. The way you tell which is which is that the Past card is always drawn before the Future. Which, yeah, makes sense. Looking back at Mikoto, he draws the card on the right before the card on the left, meaning we're probably supposed to read it Future<-Present<-Past.

Alright got it? Good. Now, we have to check which spread belongs to each alter.

The third spread is easiest. Based on the lighting, the punch at the end, the red mannequin in The Fool card which carries a skull, etc, John appears to be the one reading it. There are more reasons to believe this, but they require a deeper reading of the spread than I'm willing to enter here. So trust me bro.

Then, the second spread has the reversed King of Cups in the first card of The Wand.

That card of the spread represents... different things depending on the source, but generally it's the attitude the querent takes about the problem they face, the power they have over the situation, or even advice; basically, it's how the querent approaches their problems. The reversed King of Cups can mean a lot of different things, including emotional repression or violence. However, since John has this card in this position as well, we can assume this querent approaches problems the same way John does. We can thereby assume this spread belongs to the left-handed alter who also killed someone, who I'll call Midokoto. Yes I still believe Trikoto (probably should make a post compiling evidence in Double, which there's a decent bit of), since the host is probably right-handed. By process of elimination, the first spread must be the host's, who I'll just call Mikoto. Again, there's other reasons to believe this, but I don't want to go too deep into the spreads.

Alright, back to the Wheel of Fortune. I'll start with the second spread, which has it reversed in the Concious ("as above") position. This position represents what the querent wants, the thing they are actively and conciously working towards. The reversed Wheel of Fortune can represent several things, including misfortune, unhealthy cycles, etc, but in this position, I believe the most applicable reading could be resistance to change. In other words, this alter is actively working towards keeping their life as it is.

[MeMe] Maybe it's ok to try to keep on living Split in half, make that heart beat

I've talked about it before, but I believe this is what Midokoto is working towards. Although that post is slightly outdated (I now no longer believe pronouns in lyrics are a good way to determine which alter is on screen), I still believe this is Midokoto speaking. He's the only alter who doesn't want change, which I think may also be implied by Double. You know those image flashes which appear all throughout Double? The only one we can be sure is probably attached to Midokoto is this (plus a few other images):

After all, this alter holds the bloodied bat with the left hand. You can also see the "crown of thorns" associated with John (long story) isn't over his head, and the antlers connected to Mikoto (long story) are nowhere to be seen, but I'm not sure that makes sense to anyone but me. I really should make a "Trikoto in Double" post huh.

(Note: The English lyrics on screen simply repeat "I was having such a hard time, I was trying so hard", which applies to all alters and doesn't use a pronoun in Japanese)

The thing you'll notice are the diamonds there, which look a lot like the earrings Mikoto was wearing prior to Double. This is, as far as I can tell, the only time these things show up in one of these image flashes. Additionally, this is one of, if not the only image flash which doesn't include the Wheel of Fortune. And the Wheel of Forutne by itself a symbol of change, and of cycles. Thus, this is the alter who doesn't want change, and who is least involved in the cyces of their lives; Midokoto.

Is this good or confirmation bias? Good question! Moving on.

Because you see, the most interesting thing to me isn't the second spread, but the other two. Because the Wheel of Fortune reversed is the Future of the first spread, but its upright version is the Past of the third.

This already tells us some stuff, doesn't it? Mikoto's future in that spread is John's Past in a way, which makes sense. The outcome of the first spread is The Devil, a card which is representative of the querent's darkest desires, which-

[Neoplasm] (Translation) John: I might be the person Boku wishes he was. The person who stubbornly stands his ground, who doesn’t cry himself to sleep from stress, who gives people their payback.

Oh, hey John! Yeah, between that line and the Devil card coming out of the mirror in that one scene of MeMe, it's fair to say John is represented by the Devil card in some way. In other words, both the outcome card and the Future card point at the appearance of John as a result of the toxic cycles in Mikoto's life. Mainly overworking, apparently.

What's interesting about these cycles is that the opposite is also true. John's Future is the Five of Swords, the same card in the Past of the two other spreads.

This card in this position basically means (among other things) conflict, in particular defeat or walking away from a conflict. I believe this represent's Mikoto's actions after John/Midokoto kill someone. After some stress is alleaviated, Mikoto begins fronting most of the time, and he doesn't want to engage in conflict. He tries to make everyone happy, which ends up stressing him and once again starting the unhealthy cycles of abuse in his life, the "reversed Wheel of Fortune", which once again leads to John breaking the cycle by killing a threat. Does that make sense?

That's why the Wheel of Fortune card is upright in John's Past. Because it's the Past, it's possible to interpret it as the destruction of an unhealthy cycle. In other words, John appears to break an unhealthy cycle... or, he appears when an unhealthy cycle is broken.

This is where we acknowledge the card in MeMe is different from the one in real life.

For one, all the missing animals and mythological creatures, but I won't get into it. The presence of multiple wheels can be seen as a representation of various cycles, and they're bike wheels for likely no other reason beyond stylization purposes.

However, what's interesting is that there's already blood on the wheel. Naturally because this cycle involves murder, but if so, does it make sense for it to be in John's Past if he's the only killer? You could certainly read this as "someone had already died by the time John split from the system", which fits the theory John only split from the trauma of a murder and not just stress. But that may just be confirmation bias, so take it with a grain of salt.

Regardless of that, this whole explanation serves to answer why the Wheel of Fortune is so important to Double. It's showing this cycle more directly. The unhealthy cycles from overworking and hiding feelings end up in murder. The symbol is connected to both Mikoto and John since they make up the cycle (mostly) and wish to break it, but not to Midokoto, maybe. It's weird.

Anyways, regardless of whether or not you agree with my insane ramblings, I hope you enjoyed the analysis! Take care!

#milgram #milgram theory #mikoto kayano #double mv #meme mv #does this make sense i dont know #mikoto is no less of a headache after double huh

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bloodandthestars · 11 months

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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

priest!suguru geto x fem!reader. a part of JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series. (mdni)

tw: mention of child neglect, mention of cheating. religious turmoil :: a/n: will say that I’m sick atm so not edited rn + the prayer at the end is an example used from a pastor guidance website cause I thought it was fitting LMAO

wc: 1.7k :: masterlist :: previous part

TOSS YOUR DIRTY SHOES.

Sunday is meaningful to Suguru in a lot of ways. It was symbol of rebirth, to fill the coming days with righteous purpose and do it all over again. Sunday was the days the congregation would gather in the echoey church, sit in their pews, and listen to the scriptures to praise their one and only God.

Placing new Bibles onto the pew shelves, Suguru was surprised to find someone in the confessional one Sunday. A guy about his height, glasses, lean— seemed on the shyer side.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

“…I-I was wondering if…if I could give a confession?”

He chuckles. “You’re inside the booth, there’s no need to ask.”

“Oh..right, right.”

“Go on.”

There’s a long beat of silence, but Suguru didn’t mind it. He waits patiently for the churchgoer to find the words he needs to say. In adjusting his religious attire, the man on the other side spoke. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. My brother and I are at school studying for A-levels. I…I’ve had to ignore the plight of my brother for a long time.”

“And why is that?”

“He…he was getting bullied. And I didn’t know how to stop it. I didn’t know how to stand up to justices that would suit the Lord. I was a coward. I am a coward.”

Suguru presses his lips together. “And your brother is..? You’re saying ‘was’.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I acted the best way I knew how but…it wasn’t the right way. I…I was waiting for him at the bus stop, and-and I see them coming down the corner chasing him. It made me so mad, Father. They wanted to follow him everywhere! The bus was starting so slow down and make a stop. I…I got on the steps, making sure my brother made a straight B line for the door. As soon as he did I heard all this yelling behind me. Next thing I know I…I..”

“Mhm?”

“…I socked one guy right in the nose. Then the doors closed and w-we got out of there.”

The pastor takes pause. “When was your last confession, son?”

“Uh…”

“Did your mother send you here?”

“…Maybe..”

His pressed lips hid an amused exhale. Suguru shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You were standing up to bad people.” That’s how he starts it off, genuine with his tone, but it falls flat as he goes into the words he was supposed to say. “Yet violence is never the answer. God will understand that you had the best of intentions, so as long as you’re learned from your sin.”

Sin? He’s just a teenager, young adult at best.

The guy sees to switch his tone to eagerness. “Oh I have, Father. I most certainly have. I really don’t want to go to Hell because of this! Please forgive me, let God forgive me-“

“Shh, it’s alright.” Suguru says in a low voice. “Next time, you know that you must act brave and alert your authority figures. To protect you and your brother from harm.”

“I will.”

“Good, please bow your head in prayer.”

The boy leaves after with a sigh he can still hear from inside the booth. Suguru exhales again, shutting his eyes as he was reminded of his younger days. He had never gotten into situations where he was the victim, nor the bully. Him and his best friend wouldn’t allow the other to become either of those things. They were on top of each other, because they were going to take on the world. He snaps his eyes open, cutting off anymore memories from appearing.

The door opens and closes again on a Tuesday afternoon. Someone gets themselves situated on the other side. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is 8 months since my last confession.”

Suguru keeps his focus on the voice as they continue. “I am an aunt to the most— difficult child. My daughter was the sweetest thing when she was born. With this one, it feels like- the pits of Hell have opened up and created a demon just for my torture!”

The pastor’s brows scrunch together.

“I would never do ill to a child, I love all the darlings in the daycare that we have in this very church. But that one, someone needed to *show her* what authority was.” A pause. “I acted against what the Father would have wanted, but I was blinded by the Devil. Blinded by…rage.”

“What…did you do?”

“Tantrum after tantrum, kicking me, screaming my ears off, I had no choice but to place her in her room and…lock the door. I refused her dinner. She didn’t get anything for the rest of the night she was given to me.”

His eyes then slowly widen at her voice. Mrs. Kasaki?

The older woman huffs, causing him to snap back into reality. Even then he was to blink a few times to regain full consciousness. His lips part to find words but they were coming up with hints of bile that accompanyed the slow churning of his stomach. He swallows hard. “You should never act onto blood as you’ve done. To repent, you must tell the parent of your wrongdoings. Confess to them as you’ve done to me.”

“But, Father-“

“This is not a suggestion if you wish for your blood to remain pure. For you to…” His voice grows sour. “…begin again.”

A silence. “…Yes. Yes, Father I will do that. For the glory of his name, to sanctify.”

It releases a bit of tension in his jaw but not all of it. He has no choice. “Bow your head.”

IN MY WASHING MACHINE HEART.

“Father-“

“Father, forgive me, for-“

“-for I have sinned, disposed to the workings of the devil-“

“-I was lost, without faith and guidance-“

“-I’ve done terrible, terrible acts-“

“-I am need of your repentance.”

They cycle through like the seasons, constantly changing but always there. Days, weeks, it felt like routine. All for it drowning into a static that grew louder and louder in his ears. His eyes were distant in the booth, looking beyond the tiny holes of the decorum, past the church’s walls, and all the way out of the town. He wasn’t here, couldn’t listen to another faintly bad thought, another tainted mind, another corrupt member of his community he’d have to look in the eye and act as though he didn’t hear a thing. Hearing so many problems and sins, he was just one person. And yet they’ve poured and poured and poured, drowning him until it consumed him whole.

BABY, BANG IT UP INSIDE.

“Father, forgive me for my transgressions. It has been 5 months since my last visit.”

“You were here two weeks ago.” Suguru stated with little interest.

“Oh…was I? My apologies, Father. Back to the subject at hand-” The pastor leans his elbow against the slim wall’s trim.

“It’s about my marriage. It feels as though it’s falling apart.” You said that last time. “Before the slip up was over and done with, you know? But Gina and I were done after the motel, I went back to Willow no problem. But she’s been treating me like a dog in a doghouse and…I have needs, you know? And Father,” The man groans. “The ways in which Gina strikes me with temptation-“

Suguru’s mind trailed off, trailed off to you. Thinking on what he’s done. Lighting your smoke. His eyes shut.

He pulls away once the cigarette is properly lit. “Need anymore assistance?”

You chuckle, tapping the ash of its end. “Nothing that a priest should help with.”

You were so close, and so was he to get lost in temptation— a mere breath away. He felt your breath on his face, the way it hitched at what he did. How he *liked* hearing the sound. If he had taken any steps closer, your chests would have bumped, your noses would have grazed one another, your lips-

The pastor opens his eyes. Mere gazes? Troubled thoughts? Flirtation? How could that ever compare to the people he’s had to purify? The abstinence still held true, whose to say it won’t be if you both remain that way?

Suguru hears the man come back into the foreground of his focus once he finished up. The pastor sighs, punching the bridge of his nose. “You've been here before, and that is awfully troubling. This cycle must stop. If you’re ever to see Heaven and the Father, you have to be honest with your wife— honest with yourself. Enact in a prayer everyday to realize that your deplorable actions are sins that will get you nowhere. Spend your time serving others rather than yourself.”

“Yes, Father.”

A beat goes by. “…This is the part where you ask for forgiveness.”

“Oh— I am more than undeserving of forgiveness, but I am in need of repentance. How can I go on?”

Bearable. Insignificant.

“Bow your head.” The two do so. “Father, thank You that his sins can be forgiven through our Lord. Thank You for Your promise to put his sins behind Your back, to bury them in the depth of the sea, and to remove them from us as far as the east is from the west. Let the blood of Jesus cleanse him from every sin he prays.”

“Amen.” The men say in unison. The confessor springs from the seat, out of the door. Suguru catches the church doors opening and closing with an echoing boom. He sets his head into his hands, fingers in his dark hair. They tighten around fistfuls of it, so close to screaming. Even if he did, even if his vocal cords snapped from the mere force he’d belt out, he was sure that no one would hear a sound.

tags: @getousrep @indiecursor (thank you sm for the sweet reblog, literally made me so happy. I would literally love to read your dissertation)

#writing #jjk x reader #jjk #priest au #priest!suguru #priest!geto #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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cinderswife · 10 months

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currently rotating rose red around in my brain so here's some outfits i designed for her (this is pre-meeting cinders btw)! bonus design notes under the cut :3

nude

i knew immediately that i wanted rose to be short and built like a brick shithouse. she is dense and compact and impossible to knock over. also, she gets to be a bear girl because everyone in my ouatis au is an animal eared person. its a fun concept i saw trawling the tumblr tag and i have decided it is very canon.

absolutely covered in freckles

yes those are top surgery scars. very recent in fact! its a cross between unrealized gender things and the pain of breasts that are just. too big. always.

her tail is usually too small to be seen from this angle but i wanted to show off her tiny red puff

most of her scars are from military combat with the exception of the top surgery scars and the one on her left hand which came from when she punched a window at the age of 15 defending snow from one of their dads getting super duper upset b/c snow was starting to date

she is 4'10" and so proud of it. will kick your ass if you're a dick about it

pajamas

nothing much to say here, she just. doesn't care all that much. tank top and sweat pants are the perfect combo of temperatures for her.

also she wears heart patterned boxers and we love her for that

military work uniform

do you know how hard it is to design a military uniform when you don't usually give a shit about the military. i spend so many hours going down worldbuilding subreddits and forums before i figured out something i was happy with. anyways! this is a non-combative officer's work uniform (aka the uniform rose wore when she was commander of the prison cinders was in). i picked red because it's the color most strongly associated with cole's army, but i figure that soldiers in combat would have better camouflage built into their uniforms.

the patch on her left shoulder (the one with the deer) is the symbol for colonel. it's also mirrored on a smaller scale on her breast. cole's army uses animals to mark higher ranks

the other shoulder patch marks her current assignment

i liked white as an accent color because of its prevalence in the album. also it looks nice!

the sleeve stripes and the chevrons both indicate that she is a very important officer

the other patches on her breast are the simplified coat of arms for her noble house (the house of grimm) and all of the medals she has earned in her 11 years of service

military dress uniform

the fancy version of her uniform for Events and Public Appearances. it's a bit darker in tone for the sake of visual interest and has a lot more accessories. this one was a nightmare to color i stg but i'm super happy with the way it turned out.

you get to see all her medals! she has complicated feelings on them but they are shiny and look very nice so.

the stripes, chevrons, and deer are all the same as the work uniform for some easy visual shorthand of her rank

the only time rose will ever wear a tie or any other neck decoration because it's regulation.

i liked the way a black undershirt looked over a white one, no other reason lol

the bear medal is because the bear is a symbol of her noble family. most people have a cougar of some sort instead.

the sword and the lion are both special awards granted specifically by cole. the lion in particular came from her first deployment where she accidentally changed the tides on the invasion of the perrault (cinders' planet) and became a war hero/propaganda piece at 19

the boots have buckles. they are never quite tight enough and its annoying.

casual dress

off duty, rose wears crisp, well tailored masc outfits. she knows how to dress herself to look effortlessly important due to being raised noble but she doesn't think too hard about it.

she wears shorts instead of full pants whenever she can get away with it. snow hates this.

no she is not buttoning up all the way. why would you make her put this much effort into it. she's hotter with it undone

fun fact: i initially made her vest and shorts green but i decided that blue looked nicer

fancy dress

i've elected to go with a 1700s inspired look for the nobility. it's very fairytale-esque and also allows me to have fun with it! i wanted to do more embroidery, but i wound up not having the patience for such a thing. ah well, what i've got looks nice enough.

rose usually wears cool colors in her formal outfits. this purple is a particular favorite of hers because it goes really nicely with her hair and ears without being obnoxious

once again, rose out here avoiding any sort of neck accessory or hat. accessories that annoy her for $10,000

the lilac undershirt is not connected to the off-white trousers it's two separate pieces.

the gold accents cut a very striking figure and also look very pretty <3

the boots are supposed to be longer and pointier but idk how well i pulled that off aha

she's very handsome and i love her

#the mechanisms #ouatis #once upon a time (in space)#rose red ouatis #planet's doodles #im really proud of this btw outfit design is not a strong point of mine but i think i really pulled it together for rose #please love and appreciate my blorbo #verse: dog star in ursa major

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triglycercule · 3 months

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sometimes i feel like swapinverse deviates too much from the concept i originally had (which is that character A goes through events that lead them to having one or more traits of character B) but then i remember that this is all not canon and this is MY CANON and it's all artistic liberty and i have free reign to change things if i think they're too boring or i just want a different aesthetic

nooo stop you can't change logic about the tree of feelings and make it so that the villagers are less hateful as a result to nightmare (melpomene :3) and then also have inspiration from greece that's weird- SHUT UP!!!!! if i want them being named after greek muses and gods and wear drapy loosely inspired clothing then i WILL!!!! normal dreamtale is too boring anyways it's just the sun and moon themes. there's a point where you can't just squeeze in sun and moon symbols without it getting repetitive and trashy

noooo stop you can't completely change the events of xtale/underverse and basically make cross (crash xD) a different character- YES I CAN!!!!!!!!! i mean like what the hell would even happen to xtale if ink didn't exist anyways. xgaster would kill himself?? THAT'S BORING and i needed to find a way to keep xgaster alive so cross can at least somewhat come fron xtale. anyways crash (and also siphon but he's a completely different story that doesn't deviate TOO much) feel very outlierish to me in terms of what they do (since they don't directly do what their character B traits are, those are just a byproduct of their actions)

nooooo stop you can't give killer angel motifs and make him wear a random ass blindfold for no reason- YES THE FUCK I CAN YES I CAN!!!!! i didn't even have a reason for this i just really wanted him to be angel themed when i came up with the NAME savior (what's the opposite of killing? life. okay but i can't just fucking name this killer "liver" that's weird. i can't name him VICTIM either that's just strange especially considering this character concept. so what else is there? i could use kill on its own and search up antonyms. the strongest antonym of kill on thesaurus.com is save. boom SAVIOR) and then i RAN with the savior concept because if i'm gonna have a character literally named savior with a warped savior complex then i might as well go all in on the angel motifs because im out of ideas on unique design concepts

#tricule rant #dreamtale in swapinverse with (shockingly) NOT have a dream and nightmare that hate each other #becaus i just think they need to stick together and have peace for once #they have several other issues and conflicts to deal with but their brotherhood is NOT one of them #ill be fr i think that my idea for swapinverse cross was actually genius. bc og ink doesn't exist in this he's busy doing other stuff #so what happens to xtale if ink isn't there???? since he was the one that singlehandedly kept xgaster from offing himself #and that's what swapinverse xtale is :3 although i won't focus on that since i wanna focus more on crash himself #crash's entire backstory is one giant butterfly effect of what if ink wasn't there to show xgaster the multiverse #i really have no excuse for the aesthetic changes though i just really think that dreamtale's og aesthetic sucked #and i wanted savior to stand out from the rest of the mst (think he stands out a bit TOO much now but it's ok im a sucker for angel motifs)#biggest swapinverse lore drop as of now. ive been grinding out thalia and melpomene's lore and i have their personalities in my mind #i basically already have those 2 and crash all thought out i just need to actually refine the stuff i wrote and my ideas #and of course it fucking leaves me with vice.SER as the last one. he HAUNTS me having to actually do him is ngl SCARY

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jedi-hawkins · 6 months

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Bad Batch Season 3 Episode 9 Watch Thoughts

spoilers (duh)

Ahh Crosshair helping and getting thanked, I'm so soft.

They're brothers being brothers again, I'm going to cry.

Batcher I stg why are you letting her go in there??

VENTRESS!!!!

I noticed when the batch are standing together, there's still a space between Crosshair and Hunter. maybe symbolic of the space still between them (?) but I think this is somewhat resolved, even ouchier is I'm pretty sure that's where Tech usually stood. (apologies for bad quality)

Ahh! so that was Fennec's contact (why'd they frame it so spoopy last ep?)

Way to go Omega, good job keeping the front up 😂

Mother is confirming my personal theory! M-count gives you potential but you still need to be trained to be a Jedi (high m-count + no training = not necessarily Jedi, lower m-count + training = Jedi)

Ah! she said the line from the trailer!

Although I believe Ventress is genuinely testing Omega, I think she came up with this "test" just to troll a little

Wrecker I swear, thanks for the encouragement but babes 😂

Ventress is so hot

That jaw grab got me a lil 🥵

Tech mention I'm crying. And Crosshair holding Tech's datapad

Separatist Assassin, wouldn't it be in the files that she was a Sith or is that still a secret?

Oh this second test is just to get rid of her, she had to be trolling a little with the first.

That space between Hunter and Crosshair is still there (?)

"There's a Weeping Myre Tree." Jen, you did us so dirty with that tweet.... you had me sweating. She's just having fun watching up burn at this point. 😡

Stern Wrecker has me 😫

Oop- the way she snatched their weapons

Ahhh watching the boys fight as a cohesive team just makes me soft

Damn the way she just slapped Wrecker, poor baby

Crosshair's yell I'm dead

Her legs around his neck me too girl (and her little heel stomp was just like "stay")

I love our boys and they are very capable fighters, but it's so obvious Ventress was pulling her punches

Gah damn, the way she copied Hunter's 'grip the blade and throw' technique

Cross with his rifle, but is his hand any better?

Ohh the little foot flip and toss 🥵

"We're not big on following orders" He said it!!

YELLOW BLADE!!! And it's the same hilt as her red sabers! (a- did she lose a saber? b- did she get a new kyber crystal?)

Ayoo miss why you choking Wrecker?? (for the dramatic scene when Omega reenters?)

Crosshair just laying ragdolled on the ground... sweetheart I'm so sorry 😂

"We were pawned in the same war, and we all lost." MOTHER 👏🏼 IS 👏🏼 SPITTING👏🏼 FACTS 👏🏼

Why is she being so vague? Does Ventress not know that Palpatine is Sidious? I feel like she would know especially now since Emperor Palpatine looks and sounds exactly like the weird guy in the robe that used to boss Dooku around.

Damn she laid our boys out

"We do" So why not just drop the "S" word and call her a Sith? I know squad 99 didn't work with Jedi regularly, but they were under Cody's jurisdiction, and they had to have heard the word before (whether from Obi-wan himself, or in debriefings, or even war stories passed through the barracks)

"We were just getting warmed up" Wrecker, I love you but PLEASE, she got y'all good 😂

Omega's little hand wave at "people can change" I don't think it was in Crosshair's direction, but it was framed like it was

Op- she gagged Crosshair with that. 🫢

Isit just me or does Ventress' shoulder plate look like the slillouette of a B1 battle droid?

Ventress being Omega's teacher would be oh so good (and Obi-wan would tease the shit out of her for it)

Omega automatically did the hand thing and I don't think she's ever seen a force-sensitive doing that. Natural instinct?

Oop- spotted. Ventress' little glare at Wrecker through the scopes I'm dead 😂

"This is different than being a soldier." YES MA'AM

I know Omega is frustrated here and people may bash her for being 'whiny' but I honestly appreciate the writers letting us see her in a more child-like frustration.

I honestly love that Ventress has seen both the light and dark side of the force and now has come into her own. She's almost looked relieved that she was able to call the creatures to her, kind of like an "I'm still worthy moment."

"Did you summon that?" "Not intentionally."

Ventress with her hair wet and slicked back oml

Crosshair co-piloting!!

Omega with wet hair! (NOW GIVE US HUNTER)

Okay my theory about the kraken, Ventress called it's food source, so it followed, but then it got curious about their boat. It wasn't trying to attack them, it was bumping their boat because it was trying to figure out what they were. Then Ventress cut off a tentacle (yes to rescue Omega, but I think the creature was just exploring) That spooked it, then the Marauder swings in and starts shooting at it. When the Marauder flies off, a tentacle kind of flicks in a 'yeah get out of here' kind of way. It doesn't immediately eat Ventress when it has her (does it even eat humans?), it brings her close to it's face to investigate and she takes her time channeling the Force. The animators specifically focus on the creature's eyes and the changes in it (pupils dilating). To me, it seemed like Ventress was communicating with it like "I'm sorry we startled you, we mean you no harm." Then the creature sets Ventress down so gently (it doesn't drop her) and goes on it's merry way.

Crosshair is the one on the ramp to get Omega!!!

Ahh! he reaches out to help Ventress too. He offered her his hand and she took it!! 🥰

I'm surprised we didn't get a comment from Ventress about Batcher.

Wrecker being the big brother we all need and taking Omega off to eat after a long day just makes my heart so warm.

The way Hunter and Crosshair are both standing with a hip popped is killing me. (again, sorry for bad quality) 😂

"You're lying" So perceptive, Crosshair.

Ventress is so smart and she sees how much the Batch cares about Omega, hence why she lied. AND Hunter and Crosshair know Ventress is right that if they acknowledge Omega is Force-sensitive, that means she goes away and they're not ready for that.

Her warning is so foreboding... (A Harbringer?) Next week is a double feature and I think that's when we'll get the Empire over Pabu.

Crosshair is so attentive to Ventress, I'm already shipping them (don't get me wrong, I'd fight Ventress for Crosshair, but they seem like they'd be a good match in-universe)

"I've got a few lives left." She's so cat. Just like Crosshair.

Hunter x Fennec // Crosshair x Ventress (I'm already thinking about my two batch husbands and their grumpy in-cannon girlfriends that want nothing to do with them)

"I've got a few lives left." Ugh she's so cat, just like Crosshair.

AHHH!!! This episode was so good. We got to see our boys fighting again as a unit. We got to see Ventress (which, during clone wars she was always just a 'mech' character for me. Didn't love her, didn't hate her, but this episode solidified her on my favs list. Her line of "We were pawned in the same war and we all lost." Just DAMN she hit the nail on the head and I don't even know she knows she did. If you made it through this entire post, scrolling back I didn't realize how insanely long it is, thank you!! 💕

#TBBspoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season three spoilers #the bad batch s3 spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch season three spoilers #bad batch s3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers #bad batch season three spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb season three #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season three #bad batch season 3 #bad batch season three

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 7 months

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10th March >> Fr. Martin's Homilies / Reflections on Today's Mass Readings (Inc. John 3:14-21) for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B: ‘The light has come into the world’.

Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B

Gospel (Except USA) John 3:14-21 God sent his Son so that through him the world might be saved.

Jesus said to Nicodemus:

‘The Son of Man must be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him. Yes, God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life. For God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world, but so that through him the world might be saved. No one who believes in him will be condemned; but whoever refuses to believe is condemned already, because he has refused to believe in the name of God’s only Son. On these grounds is sentence pronounced: that though the light has come into the world men have shown they prefer darkness to the light because their deeds were evil. And indeed, everybody who does wrong hates the light and avoids it, for fear his actions should be exposed; but the man who lives by the truth comes out into the light, so that it may be plainly seen that what he does is done in God.’

Gospel (USA) John 3:14–21 God sent his Son so that the world might be saved through him.

Jesus said to Nicodemus: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come toward the light, so that his works might not be exposed. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.

Homilies (6)

(i) Fourth Sunday of Lent

All of the great religions have a symbol that identifies it. The symbol of Judaism is the six pointed Star of David. The symbol of Islam is the crescent moon and star. The symbol of Hinduism is made up of three letters A, U and M. The symbol of Christianity is the cross. The cross speaks of crucifixion, a terrible form of death that the Roman Empire reserved for slaves and those considered a threat to public order. It is how Jesus was put to death.

When we look upon Jesus crucified, we can see what human beings are capable of doing to one another; we confront the sin that put Jesus on the cross. Jesus lifted up on the cross exposes the evil tendencies that resides in all of our hearts. Yet, when we as Christians look upon the cross, we see more than just the darkness of human nature. We also see the brightness of God’s nature. We see the love of God shining through the crucified Jesus. In the gospel reading, Jesus speaks of himself as the Son of Man who must be lifted up. Jesus had to be lifted up on the cross; it was the price he had to pay for remaining faithful to his mission of revealing God’s love for the world. As Jesus says elsewhere in this gospel of John, ‘No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends’. Jesus’ death on the cross revealed his greater love for us, a love that was faithful to us, even when it meant his death. The love that shone through Jesus as he hung from the cross was the love of God. On the cross Jesus was showing the world that God is love. In the words of today’s gospel reading, ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. Jesus’ whole life, and especially his death, was a powerful expression of God’s love for the world and for each one of us personally. Saint Paul could say, and we can all say, ‘I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me’. Jesus was God’s greatest gift of love to the world and to each one of us personally.

Today’s gospel reading goes on to say that ‘God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world’. There was and is much to condemn in the world. The crucifixion of Jesus, the continued slaughter of the innocents, is a witness to the power of sin in the world. Yet, Jesus did not come among us just to condemn what was wrong in us. God sent his Son into the world to reveal a love that was more powerful than sin or evil, so that we could all be raised up by this love. God sent his Son into the world to release a power of love that would enable us to become the people God desires us to be, what the second reading refers to as ‘God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. If we allow ourselves to be touched by God’s love given to us in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, we will begin to live fully human lives and we will enter into eternal life.

Saint Paul in the second reading stresses that God’s love present in Jesus is freely given to us. It does not have to be earned; it is not a reward for what we have done. As Paul says, ‘it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith… not by anything you have done’. No matter who we are or what has happened to us in life, God is for us, God’s love is over us to recreate us, to lift us up from our sin, so that we can live loving lives that reflect God’s love for the world. God’s love poured out through his Son is a gift to be received rather than a reward to be earned. Receiving this gift can be a gradual process in our lives. When Jesus went to wash Peter’s feet, Peter said, ‘You shall never wash my feet’. Peter struggled to receive Jesus’ gift of his self-emptying love. There is something of Peter in all of us. Yet, Jesus would not take no for an answer, saying to Peter, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me’. Peter had many flaws; he would soon deny Jesus publicly. Yet, Jesus insisted on washing Peter’s feet.

God’s love for us present in Jesus is unconditional, because God is love. One of the greatest challenges of faith is to allow God to be God, to allow God present in Jesus, our risen Lord, to bring me to experience his love for me in a very personal way. The light of God’s love never ceases to shine, but sometimes, in the words of the gospel reading, we can avoid this light. Our calling is to keep coming into God’s loving light. That will sometimes mean turning from whatever pockets of darkness are to be found in our lives. They need not come between us and the love of God because as Paul says in one of his letters, ‘nothing in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord’.

And/Or

(ii) Fourth Sunday of Lent

A painting hung for many years on the wall of a dinning room in the Jesuit house on Lesson Street. No one paid much attention to it until one day someone with a keen eye spotted it and realized that this could be something of great value. He had it further investigated by art experts, and it turned out that this painting was the work of no less a person than the great Italian artist Caravaggio. The painting of the arrest of Jesus in the garden now hangs in the National Art Gallery, and it is one of the Gallery’s great treasures. All those years it hung in the dining room of Lesson Street it was no less a treasure, but its worth, its value, went unrecognized. It hung there waiting to be discovered, waiting for someone to recognize its true worth, its true value as a work of art.

In the second reading this morning, Paul states that ‘we are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. Like the painting in Lesson Street, we can go unnoticed as a work of art, especially to ourselves. We don’t tend to think of ourselves as a work of art. Yet, as Paul reminds us in our second reading, God sees us as works of art. Like the person who spotted the painting in Lesson Street, God knows our true worth, our true value. As God said through the prophet Isaiah, ‘You are precious in my sight, and I love you’. We are as works of art to him, of great worth and value, precious in his sight.

We can probably think of people in our own lives that are as works of art to us. These are people we value greatly, people we treasure, whose worth to us is beyond price. Today is Mother’s day, and most of us think of our mothers in that way, whether they are still living or are with the Lord. When someone is a treasure to us, we don’t count the cost in their regard. We will do anything we can for them. We will travel long distances to see them; we will stay up half the night to be with them if they are ill; we will defend and protect them with all our passion when necessary. We keep faith in them; we are faithful to them, even when that makes great demands on us. How we relate to those we value and treasure is not determined so much by how they relate to us. Even if they do something that annoys us, we tend to make all kinds of allowances for them. We say something like, ‘that’s just the way he is, she is’. Their worth in our eyes, their value to us, is rooted in something deeper than what they do or fail to do. We value them, simply, for who they are.

Our experience of how we relate to those we value, and of how people who value us relate to us, gives us a glimpse of how the Lord relates to us. God loves us in a way that does not count the cost. The gospel reading today expresses that truth very simply: ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. God sent us his Son out of love for us and that sending became a giving when his Son was put to death on a cross. Here was a love that did not count the cost, a sending that became a giving when that was called for. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘God loved us so much that he was generous with his mercy’. We are of such value in God’s eyes that God did not spare his own Son, but gave him up to benefit us all. It is not surprising that the cross has become the dominant symbol of Christianity. This is not because we glorify suffering in any way, but because we recognise that the cross is a powerful sign of how much God values us, how precious we are in God’s sight, the extent to which God is prepared to go to express love for us.

Our love for those we value is bestowed on them for who they are more than for what they do. The same is true of God’s love for us in Christ. It is pure gift. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘it is not based on anything you have done’. Some of us find it difficult to really believe that. We find ourselves asking, ‘how I done enough?’ Yet, when it comes to someone in our lives whom we know truly loves us, we would rarely ask that question of them. Why should we ask it of God, when even the greatest of human love is only gives us a glimpse of God’s love? God loves us for who we are, people made in his image, and, therefore, works of art.

What is asked of us in relation to God is that we receive God’s love, or in the words of the gospel reading today, that we come into the light. The light of God’s love falls upon us, but we can hide from it. Children fear the darkness very often. But as adults we often fear the light, because we suspect that the light will expose us in some way. Yet, the light of God is not a harsh light, the kind of light that is trained on a suspect in an interrogation room. It is a strong, yet warm, light that brings healing and generates new life. It is an empowering light that enables us to ‘live the good life’, as Paul says in the second reading. We pray that, as the hours of day light increase in these days, the life-giving light of God’s love would renew us and fill us with a desire to serve him.

And/Or

(iii) Fourth Sunday of Lent

Children are often afraid of the dark, as the parents here in the church will know. A dim light is sometimes left on while children sleep, so that if they wake up it is not in pitch darkness. Many of us as adults find total darkness disconcerting too. Those of us who live in cities never really experience total darkness. It is different out in the country away from villages, towns and cities. I remember going on a holiday as a young person to the Arran Islands and being struck by just how dark it was at night. There was very little in the way of artificial light to dispel the darkness. The experience of near total darkness after night fell was disconcerting.

Although most of us would claim to prefer light to darkness, in today’s gospel reading Jesus declares that some people ‘have shown they prefer darkness to the light because their deeds were evil’. Most crime is committed during the hours of darkness. Those who are intent on doing wrong are drawn to darkness because it provides them with cover. As today’s gospel states: ‘Everyone who does wrong hates the light and avoids it, for fear his actions should be exposed’. One of the many security measures that have become popular in recent years is an array of bright lights that come on at night whenever anyone steps into an area that is out of bounds. Light is considered, with good reason, to be a deterrent to the person who is intent on committing crime. Indeed, there is a sense in which we all fear too much light just as we do too much darkness. Many of us prefer to stay in the background, in the shadows; we don’t like the spotlight being shone on us. We all have secrets that we would wish to remain in darkness, away from the bright lights that human curiosity and inquiry might like to shine on them. There are aspects of our lives that we would prefer to remain in darkness because we are not sure how people might respond to us if a bright light were to be shone on them. We only bring our deepest selves out into the light in the presence of those we really trust.

The gospel of John frequently refers to Jesus as light. On one occasion, Jesus says of himself: ‘I am the light of the world’. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus says with reference to himself: ‘Light has come into the world’. The gospel reading also declares that the light that has come into the world in the person of Jesus is the light of God’s love. In one of the most memorable statements of the New Testament, the gospel reading declares, ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son so that everyone who believes in him… may have eternal life’. The light of Jesus is not the probing light of the grand inquisitor that seeks out failure and transgression with a view to condemnation. Indeed, the gospel reading states that God ‘sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world’. The light of Jesus, rather, is the inviting light of God’s love, calling out to us to come and to allow ourselves to be bathed in this light, and promising those who do so that they will share in God’s own life, both here and now and also beyond death.

At the beginning of today’s gospel reading, Jesus speaks of himself as the Son of Man who must be lifted up. It was on the cross that Jesus was lifted up, and it was above all at that moment that the light of God’s love shone most brightly. It is a paradox that those who attempted to extinguish God’s light shining in Jesus only succeeded in making that light of love shine all the more brightly. God’s gift of his Son to us was not in any way thwarted by the rejection of his Son. God’s giving continued as Jesus was lifted up to die, and God’s giving found further expression when God raised his Son from the dead and gave him to us as risen Lord. Here indeed is a light that darkness cannot overcome, a love that human sin cannot extinguish. This is the core of the gospel. This is why the fourth Sunday of Lent is known as Guadete Sunday, Rejoice Sunday.

When we are going through a difficult experience and darkness seems to envelope us, it can be tempting to think that we will never see the light again. This is the mood that is captured in today’s responsorial psalm: ‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept’. Today’s readings assure us that there is a light that shines in the darkness and that the darkness will not overcome, a light that heals and restores, in the words of today’s second reading, a light that brings us to life with Christ and raises us up with him. It shines in a special way whenever we celebrate the Eucharist. As we gather around the table of the word and the table of the Eucharist, the light of God’s love revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus shines upon whatever darkness we may be struggling with in our lives.

And/Or

(iv) Fourth Sunday of Lent

We have become very aware in recent weeks of how much longer the days are getting. We are half way through the month of March and already it is bright up until after six o’clock. We have even brighter days to look forward to, especially as the clock goes forward next weekend. The brighter evenings brings everybody out. With the increase in light, there is also an increase in growth. The first blossoms of spring have already come out. Nature is coming to life after a time of hibernation.

The gospel reading this morning is in keeping with what is happening in nature. It declares that ‘light has come into the world’. The light there is a reference to the light of God that has come into the world through Jesus. Both the second reading and the gospel reading make clear that the light of God is the light of love. The second reading declares that God loved us with so much love that he was generous with his mercy; it speaks of God’s goodness towards us in Christ, the infiniteness richness of God’s grace in Christ. The gospel reading declares that God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son. In the light that Jesus brings from God we find mercy, compassion, great love, kindness, infinite grace. Sometimes we don’t like too much light. There is a certain kind of light that can expose us mercilessly, like the light of the interrogator’s lamp. However, Jesus brings a light that need hold no fear for us; it is a divine light that lifts us up, just as the Son of Man was lifted up, in the words of the gospel reading. Here is a light that assures us of our worth and that helps us to see the goodness that is within us and the good that we are capable of doing. It is a light that, in the words of the second reading, allows us to recognize that ‘we are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live a good life’. It is the light of a love that shines upon us regardless of what we have done or failed to do. As the first reading reminds us, God’s grace, God’s love, comes to us not on the basis of anything we have done. It is not something we earn by our efforts; it comes to us as a pure gift. When God gave his Son to the world, did not ask whether the world was worthy of his Son or whether the world was ready for his Son. Even when the world crucified God’s Son, God did not take back his Son from the world. Rather, God continued to give his Son to the world, raising him from the dead and sending him back into the world through the Holy Spirit, through the church. Here is a light that shines in the darkness and that the darkness cannot overcome, in the words of the gospel of John.

We all long for that kind of light, a light that is strong and enduring, a light that can be found at the heart of darkness and that is more resilient than darkness. We have all experienced darkness in one shape or form. It may be the darkness of sickness, or of the death of a loved one or the darkness of failure; we may struggle from time to time with the darkness of depression, with those dark demons that tell us that we are worthless and that life is not worth living. Something of that darkness of spirit finds expression in today’s responsorial psalm. It was composed from the darkness of exile in Babylon. ‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept, remembering Zion’. We may have known our own experiences of exile in its various forms, times when we felt cut off from what gives meaning and purpose to our lives. The readings this morning assure us that in all those forms of darkness, a light shines - the light of God’s enduring love that is constantly at work in our lives so that we may have life and have it to the full. In the words of the gospel reading again, ‘God gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him... may have eternal life’.

Even though this wonderful light has come into the world and wants to shine upon us all, we can be reluctant to step into that light, and allow it to shine upon us. In the words of the gospel reading, ‘though the light has come into the world, people have shown that they prefer darkness to the light’. This is the mysterious capacity of human freedom to reject the light, to turn away from a faultless love and a boundless mercy. Yet, our coming to the light is often a gradual process; it can happen slowly, at our own pace. The Lord is always prepared to wait on us; he waits for our free response. We are not used to a love that is as generous, as merciful, as rich in grace and goodness as God’s love; it takes us time to receive it, to believe in it, to embrace it. Receiving God’s love and then living out of that gift is the calling and task of a life time.

And/Or

(v) Fourth Sunday of Lent

My father loved fresh air. The bull wall was one of his favourite places. Like many men of his generation, he was a smoker and, sometimes, his breathing became a struggle. He loved to get out in the open where there was a good wind blowing that could fill his lungs. My mother was much less keen on fresh air, especially of the windy variety. It tended to leave her hair in what she considered a mess. After having experienced an abundance of fresh air at my father’s prompting, she was often heard to say, ‘I’m like the wreck of the Hesperus’. As children we were mystified as to what the ‘wreck of the Hesperus’ was. It was only many years later I discovered it was the name of a rather tragic poem about a shipwreck in a storm by the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, published in 1842. However, as children, we knew that when our mother came out with this expression it meant that she didn’t like the look of herself. In those moments, Saint Paul’s statement at the end of today’s second reading wouldn’t have cut much ice with her, ‘We are God’s work of art’.

Perhaps, we all find it difficult to really believe that we are God’s work of art. We admire the workmanship of great artists, like Michelangelo, Raphael, Caravaggio, and we recognize their creations as works of art. Many of these great artists were people of faith who were very aware that their ability to create works of art was a gift from God. They understood that God was the supreme artist, and they sensed that they were sharing in God’s creative power. Every new born child is God’s work of art, because they are an image and reflection of God, the supreme artist. In that sense, we are each God’s work of art. Just as a work of art can deteriorate over time and need cleaning and restoration, so, as we go through life, we do not always give full expression to our inner identity as God’s work of art. In that second reading, Saint Paul says that ‘we are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. We don’t always live the good life that does justice to God’s work of art that we are.

Yet, what we do or fail to do does not fundamentally undermine who we are as people made in the image and likeness of the great Artist. Indeed, not only have we been created as human beings in the image of God, but that identity has been enhanced through God’s sending of his Son into the world and our communion with God’s Son through baptism and faith. Jesus was the perfect image and likeness of God. He was God’s greatest work of art. The closer we come to Jesus, the more he lives in and through us, the more we will grow into our true identity as God’s image and likeness, God’s work of art. We could imagine Jesus as the great restorer of God’s work of art, humanity. As Saint Paul says in that second reading, ‘when we were dead through our sins, he (God) brought us to life with Christ’. Through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God recreates us in his image and likeness, restores our identity as his work of art. Having created us out of love, God recreated us, restored us, out of love. That is the core message of today’s readings. The gospel reading declares that ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. God’s renewing love embraces the world, all of humanity who have been made in his image and likeness, and, indeed, all of creation. Paul in the second reading states that God’s ‘goodness towards us in Christ Jesus’ shows ‘how infinitely rich he is in grace’. Paul goes on to remind us that God’s loving initiative towards us through his Son is pure gift; it is not a response to anything we have done, as if we had to build up credit with God first.

We are all aware of the good we have failed to do and the wrong we have done. As a result, we can be prone to condemning ourselves, and others can look in judgement upon us. Yet, God is not primarily in the business of condemning. In the words of the gospel reading, ‘God sent his Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but so that through him, the world might be saved’, might have life and have it to the full. The eyes of love always see goodness and beauty in the beloved even though he or she may leave a lot to be desired. Those we love deeply remain works of art to us, even though our shared journey may have had many ups and downs. God’s love for us, revealed in his Son, is infinitely greater than any human love. God continues to see us as his works of art, even though our lives may be tainted by sin. He continually gives us the gift of his Son and of the Holy Spirit so that can grow into that work of art more fully. All God of asks of us is that we keep opening our hearts to that gift of his Son, that we keep coming out into the light, in the words of today’s gospel reading.

And/Or

(vi) Fourth Sunday of Lent

A painting hung for many years on a dinning room wall in the Jesuit house on Lesson Street. No one paid much attention to it until one day someone with a keen eye realized that this could be something of great value. It was further investigated by art experts, and it turned out that this painting was the work of the great Italian artist Caravaggio. The painting of the arrest of Jesus is now hangs one of the National Gallery’s great treasures. All those years it hung in the dining room of Lesson Street it was no less a treasure, but its value went unrecognized. It hung there waiting to be discovered, waiting for someone to recognize its true value as a work of art.

According to the particular translation of the letter to the Ephesians we read from this evening, we are all ‘God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. We don’t tend to think of ourselves as works of art. Yet, like the person who spotted the painting in Lesson Street, God knows our true worth, our true value. We are works of art to God; we are of great worth and value in God’s sight.

We can all think of people in our own lives whom we value greatly, whose worth to us is beyond price, because to us they are works of art. Today is Mother’s day, and most of us think of our mothers in that way, whether they are still living or are with the Lord. When someone is a treasure to us, we don’t count the cost in their regard. We will do anything we can for them. We will travel long distances to see them; we will stay up half the night to be with them if they are ill; we will protect them with all our passion when necessary. How we relate to those we value and treasure is not determined so much by how they relate to us. Even if they do something that annoys us, we tend to make all kinds of allowances for them. We say something like, ‘that’s just the way he/she is’. Their worth in our eyes is rooted in something deeper than what they do or fail to do. We value them, simply, for who they are.

Our experience of how we relate to those we value, and of how people who value us relate to us, gives us a glimpse of how God relates to us. God loves us in a way that does not count the cost. The gospel reading today expresses that truth very simply: ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. God sent his Son out of love for us and that sending became a giving when his Son was put to death on a cross. Here was a love that did not count the cost, a sending that became a costly giving when that was called for. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘God loved us so much that he was generous with his mercy’. We are of such value in God’s eyes that God did not spare his own Son, but gave him up to benefit us all. It is not surprising that the cross has become the dominant symbol of Christianity. This is not because we glorify suffering in any way, but because we recognise that the cross is a powerful sign of how much God values us, how precious we are in God’s sight; it shows the extent to which God is prepared to go to express love for us.

Our love for those we value is bestowed on them for who they are more than for what they do. The same is true of God’s love for us in Christ. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘it is not based on anything you have done’. Some of us find it difficult to really believe that. We find ourselves asking, ‘how I done enough?’ Yet, when it comes to someone in our lives whom we know truly loves us, we would never think of asking them, ‘Have I done enough?’ Why should we ask such a question of God, when even the greatest of human love is only gives us a glimpse of God’s love? God loves us for who we are, people made in the image of God’s Son, and, to that extent, works of art.

What God asks of us is that we receive God’s love revealed and made present in Christ, or, in the words of the gospel reading today, that we come into the light. The light of God’s love falls upon us, but we can hide from it. Children fear the darkness very often. But as adults we often fear the light, because we suspect that the light will expose us in some way. Yet, the light of God is not a harsh light, the kind of light that is trained on a suspect in an interrogation room. It is a strong, yet warm, light that brings healing and generates new life. It is an empowering light that enables us to ‘live the good life’, as Paul says in the second reading, ‘to do good works’. As the hours of day light are increasing in these days, we pray that the life-giving light of God’s love would renew us and fill us with a new desire to serve him.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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ichorblossoms · 4 months

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*pulls up a seat* i would actually love to hear your thoughts behind the Grimm with flowers piece!!

HI HELLO!!!! OKAY SO this piece isn't as Symbolic or intense as some of my other ones, i moreso had a vibe and also wanted a piece that (somewhat) more directly conveys that hey, grimm's got some fun gender stuff going on. also i wanted to fuck around with drawing hair. i think i mentioned it but i'm trying to strike a balance between stylized and flowy but also not too unrealistic so it's. at least a step in that direction. idk i'm still figuring things out and shrimply fucking around at all times

it's not an Issue really but some of the tags (which i do always appreciate) that i've gotten from ppl on some of my grimm and/or grimmyarrow pieces had me like hm. i think you're interpreting grimm as a man and they are. not that. which, in-canon grimm just goes with whatever people think it is (which is usually a man) and doesn't care about being misgendered so i can't fault ppl for that. but it's important to Me that ppl understand that they've got a fun gender, or at the very least that they're nb. like i talk abt it on this blog but it's pride month and it's even more of an excuse to be more deliberate abt it on main

that all being said, i do like me some occasional flower symbolism though :3c this piece is only semi-deliberate with it bc at the end of the day i wanted a) nb flag flowers and b) at least some sonoran desert wildflowers but it's got:

yarrow- self explanatory. has all sorts of good symbolic meanings like love, courage, healing yadda yadda. medicinal plant and poisonous to dogs. also the scientific name is partially derived from achilles which is something i've had simmering in the back of my mind for awhile smthin smthin having only one specific weakness. also a royal pain in the ass to draw if i'm getting detailed with it. i don't do that here hdkghfdlk

(black) rose- mostly for grimm's general black color scheme really. black roses have their own symbolism like mourning and rebirth that do fit but also. rose typical romance flower + black bc grimm. yeehaw

coulter's lupine- i see these bitches on the side of the road when i drive through the desert in spring and it's really cool to see them in full bloom hehe. i consulted my book on desert flowers and saw the name like. oh fuck yes dog-coded. i mean i'm particular about when i cross between wolf and coyote symbolism and try not to really draw wolf comparisons to grimm bc of that BUT sometimes you need a good the dog motif regardless of what kind of dog it is <thinks about this too much

brittlebush- yellow :) also these are just. pretty common i see em every now and again and i like putting familiar things in my work ehehe

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK JANE ILY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i had Much more of an artistic obsession with flower symbolism in late high-school early college it's smthin i'll occasionally add in as #a little sprinkle nowadays tbh #i wanted a forget me not tattoo for awhile actually but now i'm kinda like eh. not as much my thing anymore #yarrow technically grows here too but not around where i live bc i. have not seen it hfdghdl #yarrow got their name bc in my attempt to figure out what to call them was like 'what do sonoran bumble bees pollinate' and lo and behold #that dual lightbulb moment of 'oh that grows here?' and 'oh i can put so much symbolism in this' good shit #most of his shit ended up being based on actual honeybees rather than bumble bees but he was like. ten hours old at that point so. yknow #asks #confusedlucifer #honeybee #grimm

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dirtyoldmanhole · 1 year

Text

@/damoselcastel was kind enough to show me a bunch of the FE:Fates visual works artbook pages the other day!

and because i am continuing to be .... brain rotted (lol) ... grabbed a copy since there was more than a few relevant pages/official artworks, and wanted to have a high res/color corrected version of these pages for art refs to slap on my reference boards! if i'm looking at them every day now for the past three months they better be accurate!!!

anyway! it came TODAY!!! :D :D pakidge

IT WASN'T EVEN SUPPOSED TO COME UNTIL THE END OF THE MONTH AAAAA

god dang this thing is THICK, now this is what i call a proper artbook! a little hard to see here but you can see by both the front and the spine that it's a chonker -- the two tellius artbooks combined are thicker but they're also a bit smaller elsewhere.

rest is under the cut b/c it's me promptly going feral :P

(and seeing who's on the spine ahhh!!! honestly that's really cool and super appropriate given his subtle plot/character relevance?! super fucking cool to keep seeing nintendo nod at him in symbolically relevant places, but not too overtly )

SPEAKING OF I SHIT YOU NOT GUESS WHICH SPREAD THIS THING FELL TO FIRST

I SHIT

YOU

NOT--

stone cold, swear to you, straight up didn't intend that but this was literally me irl then:

:')))))))))

(also HE GETS A WHOLE SPREAD???? and a turnaround?!!!!!! even freaking corrin's nohr noble design gets like an EIGHTH of the page

gunter gets treated SO WELL in this artbook i'm on the floor trying not to sob like i'm sixteen again and begging for any zihark scraps

also this is so much more high res than what's on my reference board the nitpicky artist in me is literally crying for joy about FINALLY HAVING A HIGH RES REFERENCEEEEEEEEEEE

also what the fuck the architecture is so cool???????????

THE WORLDBUILDING I AM WILDING

for real tho i remember my first conquest playthrough my jaw was on the FLOOR being genuinely amazed at how cool the worldbuilding was especially on the nohrian side with the gothic vibe and y'all don't know how useful this is going to be to replicate nohrian motifs in all of my drawings/probable comics/doujinshi/etc.

[foams at mouth]

this artbook also covers EVERYTHING

like there's a healthy amount of character work , but there's also enemy designs (always thought fate's enemy designs were unusually kickass, like some of these folks could be outright characters themselves), the architecture stuff above....

my room lines....

OH MY GOD THIS MEANS I HAVE A THIRD SET OF TRANSLATIONS I CAN CROSS REFERENCE TO FUCK YES

sorry for shitty blurriness it's just me vibrating in excitement lmao i'll upload it in the high res chunk

.....

hellooooo sir~~~~

(you knew i was going to be posting that shot >:D )

his possession CGI gets a full fucking page too ajlsjsjkskjhhjshjg

HE GETS TREATED SO GOOD HERE Y'ALL, SO MANY FULL PAGES???????????? is this what it's like to be brain rotted over a major character i will never know the feeling lul

(there's actually at least two other gunter fullbody artworks in here, those have already been scanned/uploaded properly by others so i won't post 'em here unless y'all want em!

and then lastly!

to finish it off, god this cover progress is so cool, kozaki knows what he's doing.

and i'm pretty sure gunter's linework gets changed halfway through, his expression's somewhat different than on the final! and i'll be posting that along with the other high res/cleaned up scans! just need to figure out if my scanner's gonna do a better job than my phone or vice versa.

[tries to stay composed] [fails]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#meta

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starshipcaptainjojo · 1 year

Text

Continuation (sort of) of this writing prompt

So Sunspot is on your couch under your heating pad while Elliot fusses over him like this is totally normal.

You made tea. The baby’s asleep and your husband won’t be home for a while yet- you called him already but he said “Is he staying for dinner?” like this was all totally normal.

So.

Sunspot. On your couch. Totally normal.

“I’m late for club,” Sunspot rasps unhelpfully when you shove tea under his nose, careful not to slosh it onto the bandages wrapped around his neck. “I need to go home and rest.”

“You have a concussion,” you didn’t mean to use Mom Voice but, alas. Mom Voice it is. “You’re sitting here, awake and drinking tea, while we figure out what to do with you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sunspot says, surrendering to Mom voice.

“My teacher Mr. Right wouldn’t criticize you so much if he knew you saved my life,” Elliot tells Sunspot, sitting crosslegged by the couch helping you peel potatoes for dinner. A dinner Sunspot- AKA Eliot’s teacher Mr. Holman Right- will apparently be staying for.

“I think he would,” you grumble, and Sunspot laughs wetly from the couch.

“It’s cool that a super hero is here,” Elliot says speculatively, testing out if you’ll go on one of your usual anti-heroics tangents.

“Better here than anywhere else,” you agree sourly. “After this stunt you’re both grounded.”

Elliot complains, something about doing the right thing, something about villains ganging up on you.

You only tune back in when he mentions Sistern and Jumbro.

“What were they doing with you?” You dart a glance over at Sunspot, who is suspiciously quiet.

“They attacked the comic shop. Said it was for nerds.” Elliot looks away. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it but-” he cuts himself off with a sharp look at Sunspot.

Sunspot already knows you’re Barracuda. You had this conversation the first day you met in plainclothes at Elliot’s school.

“Sunspot and I used to work together,” you tell your son, whose eyes light up with annoying amounts of hero worship. “He made the right decision bringing you here.”

“Used to? What, you retiring already?” Sunspot’s concussion is making him giddy. It’d worry you but he’s also heckling you, so he’s probably fine.

“Elliot go set the table. We’ll eat when your father gets home. You can play videogames once the table is set.” You point to the kitchen, but Elliot’s already moving. The most motivated teenager ever now that videogames are on the table.

With Elliot out of the room you sit on a chair across the coffee table from Sunspot laid out on your couch.

“Why are my former colleagues going after kids?” You drink your tea and watch Sunspot rub his eyes tiredly.

“No villains like you anymore, Barracuda.” He shrugs helplessly, “the era of villains is pretty much ending. I’m a glorified status symbol for the city. Sistern and Jumbro are not long for this world.” He quirks a sad smile. “They want their boss back. Your shoes are too big to fill you know.”

“Sounds almost like you miss me,” you tease.

“I do.” He says it so candidly that it makes your heart clench. “These new villains want to harm the world because the world hurt them. You are a class act.” He shakes his head. “You wanted to topple the world to make it better for yourself. Kids these days just want to watch the world burn.”

“That why you became a teacher?” You push the plate of saltines at Sunspot insistently. He takes one and nibbles it obediently.

“If I can save even one kid from becoming another Jumbro, I will feel accomplished.” He smiles wryly, “and if that makes you want to blow up another statue of me I really wouldn’t mind it.”

“I appreciate you saving Elliot. Not that I’m surprised you did it of course.” You cross your legs. “The hero commission should give you some backup instead of a commemorative statue.”

“Nah they’d rather pay cops to shoot kids.” Sunspot lies back and closes his eyes.

“Eyes open, Sunny Boy.” You snap your fingers twice and his eyes flutter open. “Concussion watch.”

He sits up by force of will, listing to the side a little before righting himself.

“I never liked that you called me Sunny Boy you know...”

“That, Sunny Boy, is why I called you Sunny Boy.”

He shakes his head. “Sunspot. It refers to-”

“The spot on your face?” You raise your eyebrows and he seems surprised you mentioned it. In thirty years of beating the hell out of each other you’ve never once talked about it.

“So you can see it,” he mused.

“Of course I can see it. A birthmark in the shape of the sun on your shoulder? Kind of hard to miss.” Heroes. Honestly. You wave a hand dismissively. “Not sure how you lived a normal life with something like that.”

He smiles wryly. “I cover it at school.”

“I know. That was a joke, Sunny.”

“I like that it’s a birthmark.” He smiles at you, all tired eyes and barely healing wounds. You patched him up earlier but you itch to clean him up again. It’s an almost maternal thought- which is a little gross honestly. Mom-mode is hard to turn off. “Seemed weird to me you never wanted to acknowledge the ‘spot’ part.”

“I’m a woman, Sunny.” You gesture to yourself in case he missed that fact over thirty-plus years. “If you think I’m going to comment on an aspect of someone’s appearance that they can’t change, I’m no better than those douchebros or corporate leeches trying to set human interaction and empathy back decades.”

He laughs, and coughs because his throat was strangled by Jumbro.

You... might have to come out of semi-retirement for a day to set Jumbro on the right path.

You haven’t bitten off a dick since you got married. Harold might be into it, if you explain the situation to him first.

Food for thought.

“You’re smiling.” Sunspot raises his eyebrows. “And you’re showing Barracuda teeth.”

“You remember how they said I used to bite penises off?”

He crosses his legs. “Yes.”

“Did you ever think I really did it?“

“No,” he says, legs still very crossed.

“Liar.” You lean back in your seat. “I was just thinking Jumbro might benefit from losing what tiny dick he has.”

“Please don’t castrate a stupid man for me with your teeth. Feels... wrong somehow.” Sunspot sighs. “You never threatened me with that either, but they said you had a taste for... manflesh.”

You both scoff a laugh at that phrasing.

“If I did bite dicks off- which I am not admitting to- I wouldn’t be interested in doing it to you. You don’t seem to be obsessed with yours so taking it from you might not even do anything.”

You’re lying.

Well, you’re not lying. But the idea of going anywhere near Sunspot in an intimate- or even predatory- way never even crossed your mind.

If you’re honest with yourself-

“It’d be too weird, anyway,” you deflect.

He grimaces. “Wholeheartedly agree.”

The door mercifully opens and closes and Harold gets home. He finds you both sitting across from each other in silence, leans down and pecks you at the whorl of your hair.

“Sunspot. Nice to meet you. Hon, I’m gonna check on the brat, then we can eat. You guys look so awkward it physically hurts me. Work it out before it spoils dinner.”

He then pauses, your perfect crazy husband. He turns to Sunspot and holds out a hand. The two men shake, looking seriously at each other.

“We missed you at our wedding,” Harold says, not letting Sunspot’s hand go. “But obviously you’ve been keeping an eye on Elliot. So. You know. Open invitation to dinner. Always.”

“I thought the wedding invite was a joke,” Sunspot admits.

“Nope,” you and Harold say together.

Harold steps back, nodding to himself. “Alright. Well. Work the awkwardness out, then we’re eating.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze, then heads to the den yelling the countdown to his arrival that makes Elliot save his game in a hurry.

“He’s very nice.” Sunspot sits back down. “Couldn’t picture you marrying someone but... he weirdly makes sense.”

“He found me bloody in a ditch.” You smile fondly. “He asked if I was gonna bite him.”

“Did you?” Sunspot looks more awake now, which is good.

“Only once he asked me to.” You grin, and Sunspot grimaces.

“Gross. It feels like my sister is trying to tell me about her sexcapades.” He hears the words only after he’s said them, eyes going wide. He covers his mouth.

But he’s right. Also it was hilarious.

“Yeah. I’m glad I don’t know anything about your love life either.” You smile, no teeth this time. He smiles back.

“Got any tips? I’m pathetically single.” Sunspot laughs and coughs again.

“We’ll find you a nice... uh. Girl? Man?” You never really thought about Sunspot's orientation, but a man who wears skintight white spandex could go either way.

“Yes,” Sunspot confirms and you snort a laugh.

You stand up and stretch. “Let’s go have dinner. We can work out what you’re going to do about Jumbro and Sistern afterward. I have some fun ideas for you.”

“No,” he says, but it’s not as firm as it should be. He sways when he walks, but he fusses when you gently support him down the hallway.

Somehow, you both make your way to dinner together like this is totally normal.

#changing up my format #writing-prompt-s #writing prompts #my writing #writeblr #writing prompt

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nehswritesstuffs · 2 years

Text

Siblings of Water

If all my years of reading One Piece has taught me anything it’s A) remember minor characters, and B) always check for a shown corpse.

6211 words; set post-Wano but also pre-whatever-the-flip nonsense our lads are in at the moment; if something like this ever went down I would freaking scream and idk if anyone in a five mile radius would survive; we need more good blood-siblings in this series because as of this posting the best blood-siblings have been, like, the Ryugu royals and two sets of Wano sibs unless I’m missing someone don’t try to lie to me about any Charlotte shenanigans (though really this has the side-effect of tons of adoptive siblings/found family that are excellent and I admit I am greedy and want it all); one of the most sensible and natural real-world equivalent languages for Law to probably speak is Northern Low Saxon you can’t change my mind I’m not getting out of this chair this has little to do with the fic but it is important to me; we also need Trafalgar Family angst so here we are; this is my 200th fic on FFN and that’s not only pretty cool but my 20th fic was also my first One Piece fic and that was even well before these jokers showed up in the story so idk what that says about a lot of things

Siblings of Water; After their adventures in Wano, the Heart Pirates stumble a quiet island that holds a very jarring surprise for their captain.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Nuh-uh; you’re coming with us,” she said. She was standing in the doorway to his cabin, completely not-caring that he was giving her an absolutely murderous look from his position reclined on his bed.

“It’s festival season—I’m not going,” he replied. He tried to look as though he was going back to the highly academic tome of Magicks and Poshuns of Wano and Her Dauters, though in reality, he was simply trying to hide a copy of Sora, Warrior of the Sea from everyone’s prying eyes.

“You were barely at any of the parties in Wano.”

“I was obliged to attend in a nominal and symbolic manner,” he countered. “I’m all festivaled out.”

“Yeah, where you were there for five minutes before wandering off.”

“I enjoy wandering.”

“Wander the festival.”

“I can’t be guaranteed there shall be other adults there.”

“We’ll be there.”

“I know.”

Narrowing her eyes, Ikkaku made an extremely executive decision and stepped into the cabin and grabbed onto Law’s ear, tugging until he closed the book and got out of the bed. She pulled him through the submarine—to the shock of all their crewmates lingering just outside in the corridor—until she had him above deck and down the gangplank and on solid ground again.

“Now, you are going to go with us to the festival, and you are going to enjoy yourself, and you aren’t going to use wandering as an excuse to make your way back here,” she demanded. The rest of the Heart Pirates watched from atop deck, wondering whose will was going to win this time.

“It still doesn’t mean I want to,” he growled.

Ikkaku crossed her arms across her chest, unfazed. “Bepo!”

“Yes, ma’am…?”

“You’re in charge of making sure Law stays out here!” she said. The bear blanched.

“Now that’s not entirely fair,” Law noted.

“It’s fair,” she reasoned. “Stay with us, you’ll be fine. Try to run away and you’re getting sat on by an ass full of fur and Electro that also happens to have you wrapped around his little claw.”

“I am not.”

“We all are and you know this.”

A beat.

“I hate you.”

“You need to touch grass more often, you weird hermit-man.”

“I just touched a lot of grass for an extended period of time, thank you.”

“More often, dweebus.” She then glanced over at the rest of the crew, who shivered in response. “Let’s go, lads! Fun awaits!”

“…but what if someone tries to steal the Tang?” Law asked. Bepo walked up to him and put a comforting paw on his shoulder.

“No one other than Ikka can get the thing started properly,” he grimaced. “Sorry, but, we’re stuck.”

“We were able to work it before she joined up.”

“That was before she made the modifications. It’s mostly anti-theft measures, but if we’re the thieves…”

“I should have left you all on Strawhat-ya’s deck like orphan puppies.”

Bepo didn’t respond to that, which only made Law sigh in resignation.

“Okay, yeah, I’d never do that.”

“Glad you’re aware.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Festivals always made Law feel extremely uncomfortable. It reminded him of a time when he would rather study than anything else, sending a searing pang of guilt ripping through his heart. It all reminded him of then, of them, and he was doing his best to seem as disaffected as possible while still trying to figure out a way to speed-chess his way back to the Tang without any repercussions.

Well, at least the beer was decent. It was actual beer at that—Wano had fine native brewing traditions, but none of them resulted in beer. Law found himself huddled over a tankard of stuff leagues better than whatever swill it was that Kaido imported as his crew held him hostage in a picnic area, with them taking up two whole tables on one end, while a band set up on the other end near a stage. Stalls boxed in the varying picnickers and festival-goers alike, which made the particular pirate captain skittish.

“Relax,” Ikkaku smirked into her own beer. It was her first; Law’s third. “You look like a cornered cat.”

“I feel like a cornered cat,” he scowled. Bepo brought over another pile of soft pretzels for the table, which Law wordlessly shambled into bits with ease. Maybe he could get away with wanting to go back in another hour… “Whatever happened to a captain’s veto?”

“It’s because the captain knows that I could have either pulled him by the ear, or the earrings.” Ikkaku popped a bit of pretzel into her mouth and nodded—not bad. “Besides, it’s quality time with just us. It’s been a while since it was just us, all together, no other weirdos in the mix.”

“Yeah, come on, Cap,” Penguin chuckled. “You know, this is why you don’t get laid.”

Shachi choked on his pretzel bite so badly that Law had to get it out.

“Can we please save talk of my non-existent love life for, oh, I don’t know: never?” Law growled.

“All I know is that you’re Emperor material and got nothing to show for it,” Penguin noted. “You could be slaying anything you wanted, as much as you wanted.”

“I hate this conversation.”

“Our captain doesn’t seem like the ‘slaying’ type, though,” Clione offered.

“I really hate this conversation.”

“Yeah,” Penguin nodded, “you’re right—we’d need to recruit whomever it is to the crew, just so they can get to know each other first, then we let them on private shore leave.”

“I swear if this conversation goes on any further I am going to put up the biggest Room I can and drop you in the ocean.”

“You’re in luck, grumpass,” Ikkaku said. She pointed at the stage. “Looks like someone’s coming up to talk—she’s got a transponder snail.” Sure enough, most of the picnic area went quiet, waiting for the person that Law was flat-out refusing to look at out of sheer principle.

“Hi everyone!” a cheery woman said into her Den Den, voice amplified by the tiny snail. “For those of you visiting today, my name is Milla, and I’m one of the island’s resident doctors and chairwoman of this year’s festival!” She paused to let people clap, during which Shachi whistled lowly.

“Oooh, she’s a cutie,” he noted.

“…and probably too smart to be taken in by your dumb ass,” Penguin chortled. The pair kept elbowing one another as the chairwoman continued.

“I just wanted to extend a very warm welcome and thank you from the rest of the committee and island to you,” she said. “Festivals are one of the things that really keeps us going here in the Grand Line, punctuating our seasons in a way that the weather is incapable of doing. It was the same in the town where I grew up, in an icy Blue far away from here, though for different reasons, of course.”

“Huh… she’s from the North?” Hakugan wondered. Despite the fact Law was the one who rolled his eyes, it was Ikkaku who replied.

“The South Blue’s cold too, you know,” she said. She patted Law’s forearm, feeling that his muscles and tendons were tight under his shirt as he held the ale tankard. “Relax.”

“Festivals… really aren’t my thing…”

“You tried that—now stop being so tense and just enjoy some time out of the fart-box.”

“Now,” the chairwoman said, “I’ll sing you a song from that sea to officially open up our festivities. It’s an old one, but it has always warmed my heart after all these years. The music’s not the same, so bear with us, please, if you heard it before. Alright! Hit it!”

The music was slow at first, haunting and eerie—something very out-of-sorts for an otherwise-bright festival. It twisted and turned and reached deep into the crowd that was barely able to contain its excitement. The Heart Pirates mostly gave the chairwoman their attention, the entire orchestra silent except for a singular violin. Then another joined in, then a piano, and finally, the chairwoman herself in words just barely familiar to the Hearts. The North dripped from her voice as she sang a ballad of old heroes and exciting tales; a song of heartbreak and death; a tale of life and what horrors it brought. After the following chorus, the orchestra picked the tempo up slightly, bringing more instruments into the fray.

“Are you alright, Captain?” Ikkaku wondered. The Heart Pirates all looked at Law and saw that he was deathly pale, as though he was sitting across from a ghost instead of Uni. His hands—always surgeon-steady—were trembling and he was chewing on his lower lip.

Adjusting slightly, Law turned so that he could see the festival chairwoman as she continued her song. His eyes went wide and his breath hitched—no… it couldn’t be…

The very image of his mother stood atop the stage.

“Law…? Hellllooooo…” Penguin waved his hand in front of his captain’s face, failing to break him from the trance. “Oh, shit, this isn’t good.”

“Do you think maybe they sang this back where he’s from?” Clione asked. The crew at-large did not know much, but they did know better than to say the White City’s name aloud.

“Why else would he behave this way?” Shachi frowned. He tried snapping his fingers next to their captain’s ear—nothing. “We’re gonna have to take evasive action if this doesn’t stop.”

Then, suddenly, Law stood up, facing the stage and the chairwoman on it. He stared at her, eyes now resolute, watching her as she finished the chorus. His standing there was not out of place, as there were still many around and in the seating areas who were milling about and moving from stalls to tables, yet there was no one else who proceeded to do what he did upon the next verse and an additional strengthening of the tempo…

...Trafalgar Law started singing.

Heart Pirates and villagers alike began to stare, wondering about how he knew this song. His crew’s jaws all dropped at the sound of his singing voice; low and clear, it was one that invoked the idea that he might have even had training at one point—when in the hell did their captain sit with a vocal coach?!

As he continued to sing, Law began to walk up towards the stage. The festival chairwoman saw him and skipped a line of verse, though quickly collected herself and pretended to beckon him up to share the microphone snail with her. They reached the chorus and the band picked up the tempo again, the song now fully becoming cheerful and vibrant and full.

“I’m sorry,” Bepo squeaked, slackjawed, “but in all my years of knowing the captain, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I think this is the weirdest thing any of us have ever seen,” Shachi replied, “and we literally just helped take down two Emperors and an authoritarian regime.”

“He’s smiling,” Ikkaku marveled. “Holy shit he’s smiling… and no one’s about to die.”

“I… don’t feel safe,” Jean Bart muttered. His smaller crewmates all unanimously agreed—there was something that did not feel right about this entire thing, as though their captain might have been in a trance, or in some grave danger.

“Oh, no, he’s dancing,” Shachi groaned. The acute sense of horror that set in amongst his and the other Hearts’ very souls was palpable. “None of this is right. They replaced the captain with a fake…”

“It might be he never found the opportunity before…?” Bepo offered.

“The opportunity to folk dance?!”

“Oh, sorry…”

One more round of the chorus and the song ended, with Law and the chairwoman laughing while taking their bow together. The Hearts watched as their captain ducked down and whispered something in the woman’s ear, her expression startled as she took him by the hand and dragged him off the stage.

“Let’s give him fifteen minutes,” Penguin decided. “If this isn’t resolved by then, we’re going to have to take evasive action and get him back to the Tang for a debrief.”

“What if she’s killed him by then?” Uni asked. Penguin shrugged.

“Maybe Straw Hat’s accepting applications…?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Still completely stunned, Law allowed himself to be dragged throughout the backways of the festival by the chairwoman. She hid their path behind stalls and tents as she ducked into a small tent, which was occupied by some other festival officials.

“I need to question this man,” she said firmly. The other two looked at each other, then at her.

“He knew the song,” one noted. “That was a pretty neat trick you pulled.”

“Yeah, and I need to talk to him about it, because random people here just don’t know near-extinct folk songs from the North Blue,” the chairwoman frowned. The other two shrugged at that and left, promising that they would not be disturbed. Once they were out, the chairwoman muttered lowly as she drew the flaps, making it so no one saw them either.

“You know,” Law stated in Northern, “I could honestly say the same thing about you.” He watched as the chairwoman spun on her heel to look at him and he felt an intense sadness creep over him again. This woman, wearing his mother’s face, able to sing a song he hadn’t heard in over fifteen years… it was a sick joke.

“Say it again,” she demanded. “What did you say on the stage?” He exhaled heavily

“I am the Law, you are the Lam.” He watched as her face went pale at the words. “You called yourself something else though…”

“Milla—it’s what I go by thanks to… you know… our name being dangerous.” She watched as he pulled off his hat and scratched at his scalp. Tears began to form in her eyes and her voice grew strained, croaking. “I… thought I forgot what Dad looked like… but he just looked like you.”

“…and you look like Mom.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah.”

The two siblings stood there in the tent awkwardly until Law quietly opened his arms, allowing his sister to crash into a hug. They both cried as they held each other, neither wanting to let go, nor wholly believing it was real.

“Lami… I thought you died.”

“I thought you died, Law,” she replied. “I saw what was left of your classmates… the Sister’s habit… I thought you were already taken away and buried.”

“No one severely hurt me, not physically, but I did get out to the countryside in one of the carts,” he admitted quietly. “When I got back to the hospital, it was in flames, so I did what I could to survive.” He held her at arm’s length and marveled at the fact they were even there. “How did you get out?”

“There was a man who came in before the fire and took me and some of the other kids; they probably would have taken you too had you stayed,” she explained. She then hesitated, wondering how to continue. “What do you know about a place called Punk Hazard?”

“More than I should,” he said lowly.

“We were taken there by the man from the hospital. He said that he was in charge of a program under Dr. Vegapunk meant to cure us, make us better. There was a doctor on the team who knew Dad and she started on me first, since my case was the most severe.” Tears were now streaming down her face in earnest. “She took it all out of me, Law! It was as if it never happened!”

“What did she do? What happened to the rest of the children? What…?”

She shook her head.

“After it was proven I was fully cured, she was killed for the Devil Fruit power that she used to do it, and all of us kids ordered destroyed as evidence. I only survived because her son, one of the nurses, smuggled me out.” She had to brace herself by holding onto the back of a chair. “Sorry… just… the very fact you’re alive right now and we’re talking… I…”

“Lami, my name has been all over the papers—I have one of the highest current bounties of all pirates—how did you not know I was alive?”

“I read medical journals, not the newspaper,” she defended. “Close I get is my coworkers leave me the comics section.”

“I have bounty posters.”

“I have literally been here the past five years, becoming a resident doctor and pouring my heart and soul into this place. If it happened during that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“That’s another thing,” Law noted. “Since when were you interested in being a doctor? I last saw you when you were five and you wanted to be a unicorn when you grew up.”

Lami shifted uncomfortably. “Like I said: I thought you were dead.”

He shook his head, a laugh on his lips. “Then you’re going to love what they call me.” A newspaper caught his eye and he picked it up; yes, it was the most recent edition. He found the bounty posters hidden inside and took out his own, passing it to her. She blanched as she read it, realizing exactly what it was her brother had become.

“‘Surgeon of Death’,” she read aloud. “Then you became a doctor too…? Just like Mom and Dad…?”

“At first I really just wanted to kill and destroy as much as I could after leaving Flevance, but by the time I had been cured, something had shifted.” He then looked at Lami, eyebrow raised. “How did the doctor on Punk Hazard cure you?”

“Devil Fruit,” she shrugged. “A twitch of her fingers and she could take me apart bit by bit without it hurting. She could even take things out of me without opening me up. Never did learn what it was called… but that doesn’t matter, because the Government I’m sure has it now, having a crony use it to make Pacifistas or something equally as horrible.”

Law shook his head and quietly opened a Room that surrounded her. “I wouldn’t say that.” He disassembled her right arm and she gasped, completely taken aback. “It must have slipped from their fingers, but I hear that it ended up in good hands.” He put her back together and she started to sob uncontrollably. She didn’t even resist when he pulled her into another hug, feeling more like they were children again than anything.

Then, without warning, Lami stopped making sound.

It wasn’t as though she stopped crying—oh no, she was still sobbing, borderline violently in fact—but as far as making noise? Completely quiet. He stared at her in silence, only to realize something: the entire time they had been in the tent, there was no audible evidence that they were in the middle of a festival.

“Lami?” She looked up at him and froze, realizing what had happened.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m usually much better at controlling that.” She cringed as her brother grew gravely serious, as though everything relied on her answer to his next question.

“Since when have you been able to use a Devil Fruit?”

“Since I was about… I don’t remember… eleven…? Twelve…? I wasn’t paying attention because I was studying while traveling—thought it was a fancy apple.” It then hit her that he got her to unknowingly out herself, to which she scowled. “How could you tell it was a Fruit and not something else?”

“The man who saved me had your Devil Fruit,” he said. Law went to the tent flaps and looked outside—he couldn’t hear a thing until he psychically stuck his head out, retreating quickly. “I had no will to live, and then… he stole me from a pretty dangerous place too.”

“Then maybe, somehow, they both knew that we had to live in order to meet one another again… to give our names back their meaning.”

Law simply held out his hand, Lami staring at it warily. “Will you come with us, then? We could use a tactical advantage like you.”

“…but I’m not good at fighting.”

“…but you are good at this.” Law gestured with both arms at the tent surrounding them. “How long is the festival?”

“Until tomorrow night.”

“Think about it—we can afford to relax for another day.” He held out his hand again. “At least come meet my crew…?”

“Later; I’ve got… oh, shit, I’ve got things to do for the festival!” Lami panicked and went to exit the tent, only for her to be met with Shachi catching them as he was walking by. He started shouting at the two of them—despite the unknown silence—with Lami backing into the tent again as he approached.

“—and furthermore—!” He paused as he stepped over the threshold of the tent, blinking in confusion. “What the hell just happened? Where’s all the noise?”

“Nagi Nagi no Mi—Calm Calm Fruit—I can literally negate noise okay bye!” Lami skirted around Shachi and ran out of the tent, the noise barrier lifting as she went. Shachi watched her leave, then stared at Law curiously.

“What was that…?”

“Long story.”

“I’ve been around you for long enough—I got time.”

“Longer than we’ve known each other.”

“That’s… a long time.”

“Indeed.” The pair walked together back to where the rest of the crew was waiting nervously, all eyeing their captain in an attempt to figure out what happened. Law downed the remainder of his beer in one go and placed the tankard back on the table. “Drank, sang, danced; I think I’ve touched enough grass to earn the right to go back to the Tang.”

“I’ll agree with that,” Ikkaku nodded. They all watched as he stormed away, stride a bit too quick for normal. “Shit—looks like someone’s going to be grumpy all night. Let’s give him a bit, then grill him good.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Bepo grimaced.

“It’s what we have available to us, or else no one is going to enjoy this festival,” she shrugged. She popped a bit of pretzel in her mouth and sighed dramatically—traveling with a bunch of men certainly was tiresome sometimes.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The very moment that Law returned back to the Polar Tang, he went directly into his cabin and locked the door behind him. It did not matter that he literally had the entire ship to himself—only when he was inside the safety of his private quarters did he break down and allow himself to sob in earnest, curled up on his bunk and allowing himself a weakness he rarely indulged in, for what was the captain of a pirate crew except for strong?

Hours passed and Law laid there, his entire body shaking in trepidation. After all these years, all this time, his sister was alive. She was here, in the Grand Line, and alive.

Trafalgar D. Water Lami was alive.

Two of them survived.

After everything that tried to silence them over the years, they were still alive.

Fuck, he couldn’t stop thinking that word.

Alive.

Suddenly, he was restless. Law quickly stood and began pacing in his tiny cabin. Rarely had he felt as though he was going to bounce off the fucking walls, but that’s where he was, and he needed to calm down. He stopped in the middle of the room and looked at his hands, remembering what it was she had said earlier.

…I… thought I forgot what Dad looked like…

A weight dropped in his stomach.

…but he looked just like you.

Slowly, Law turned towards the mirror that was hanging in his sliver of a washroom. His mouth felt very dry all of a sudden as the face staring back at him stripped away the very thing he did his best to not address all these years. He grabbed onto his chair and shakily leaned on it—fuck, oh fuck, why did this hurt? Why was this so hard? His chest felt tight as he reached for a box sitting on a shelf, gingerly placing it on the desk before opening it. He pulled out a pair of charred eyeglass frames and shakily put them on, the thin metal burnished and lens-less, confirming everything bearing down on him. His eyesight blurred as tears distorted it, knowing that she assured him of the cruel joke that he had been terrified of all these years.

He really did look like their dad.

“Captain…?” It was Hakugan, pounding at the door, startling Law as he took the frames off in a panic. “Captain, you’ve got a visitor!”

“Don’t fuck with me,” he growled.

“That’s why Penguin sent me, because I don’t do that shit, apparently.”

Law put the eyeglass frames back in the box and placed it back in the box. He took a deep breath and opened the door, seeing the unchanging expression of his crewmate’s mask. “Who is it?”

“That lady you were singing with; she’s insisting we let her talk with you.”

“Is she in the Tang?”

“No; top deck.”

“Then I’m going to need you, Clione, and Bepo to run crowd control and make sure that no one bothers us.”

“Shachi says she’s got a Devil Fruit…”

“It’s a silencer, nothing more.” He waited until Hakugan stepped aside before heading up towards the roof of the ship. There was Lami, standing by the gangplank, a knapsack over her shoulder and a duffle bag in her hand as the rest of the crew gawked at her. Law calmly walked up to her, hearing the noise of the crew fade away as he entered her space. “That was fast.”

“They recognized you,” she said simply. “My committee members might have pulled a coup and voted to relieve me of my duties so I can go sail with my brother.”

“Do they…?”

“One says we look alike, but I don’t think that at all,” she laughed weakly. “They don’t think we’re eloping at least.”

“Well, that’s good,” he shuddered. He could feel a presence behind him, who he knew to be Bepo not only due to Haki and long-friendship with the bear, but also due to the way his sister’s eyes lit up. “What is it, Bepo?”

“I’m sorry, but, what’s going on…?”

“Oh, yeah, the rest of you are here,” Law frowned. He turned towards the rest of the crew and motioned towards Lami. “She’s staying.”

“Uh… Captain…?” Shachi said warily. “Why is the island’s festival chairwoman staying?”

“Lami’s staying with us for a while,” Law stated, leaving no further room for comment. “Ikkaku, it looks like you’re getting a women’s quarters after all.”

“Yes!” the aforementioned engineer grinned as she pumped her fist. “Keep asking and good things will come!”

“You know that, statistically-speaking, it was only a matter of time before another woman started traveling with us,” Uni stated. “Women are half the world.”

“Yeah, but for some reason there’s only a fraction of us on the seas, let alone the Grand Line,” she fired back. “So, Lami, was it? You and I need to talk about how we’re going to build this room, because it’s going to be a very important haven when these dweebs start doing shit like running around naked on laundry day or when they decide to induce shedding on Bepo or start playing Rivet, Rivet, Better Skip It…”

“You’re just jealous that you never win because you suck,” Penguin smirked.

“I ‘suck’ because, reportedly, ‘fuck you’,” Ikkaku sneered, using liberal amounts of air-quotes. She then grabbed onto Lami’s upper arm and pulled her along, disappearing into the bowels of the Tang. The rest of the crew simply stared at Law.

“I thought we were only really recruiting people from the North Blue,” Uni mentioned. “Y’know, barring Bepo and Jean Bart.”

“She is.”

“She knew a song, Captain—that doesn’t prove anything.”

“It proves more than you know.”

“Was she from Flevance?” Everyone looked over at Jean Bart, who seemed reserved in his accusation, making the large man seem so incredibly timid. No one else said a word, instead turning their attention towards their captain.

Instead of responding verbally, Law simply went down beneath the deck, finding where Ikkaku had dragged Lami off to; they were in the mess hall, the former having pulled out an impressive set of schematics that were boggling the younger’s mind.

“You sure you’re alright like this?” he asked. She glanced up at him, very clearly as though she knew the blueprints were over her head.

“I think so…” She ran her fingers over a cutaway illustration and her brow furrowed. “I can do complicated surgeries and can identify any humanoid organ by sight alone, but this…”

“She’s like a surgeon, but for a ship, in a way,” Law shrugged. “What we do with people, she does with metal.”

“Then you’re also a doctor?” Ikkaku noted. “Nice. You and the captain will make a good team then.” She waggled her eyes at Law, who scowled at her grouchily.

“Lami is my sister,” he said, deciding to cut that off at the bud. Ikkaku froze in place, letting the information wash over her before slowly nodding.

“Does anyone else know this?”

“No.”

“Is anyone else allowed to know this?”

“The crew is, yeah, but remember: they are a bunch of dumbasses.”

“True enough.” She then glanced over at Lami, who seemed to be flushing pink in embarrassment. “Anything else I need to know about?”

“I ate a Devil Fruit that makes everything quiet and I love reading Sora, Warrior of the Sea and festivals are literally my favorite thing ever and have been since I was little.”

“That actually explains a lot,” Ikkaku chuckled. She gave Law a shit-eating grin, one that sent a chill down his spine. “Don’t worry, Captain; we’ll take care of your little sister, not a problem.”

“LITTLE SISTER?!”

The three turned towards the doorway to find the rest of the crew standing by the mess hall’s entrance, jaws dropped in astonishment. Penguin and Shachi were so moved, even, that they both started crying.

“You came through for us and got the crew a cute little sister after all!” Shachi sobbed.

“Yeah, Captain! We’ll treat her just as we would our own little sister!” Penguin added tearfully.

“Neither of you have a sister, which begs many a question,” Law deadpanned.

“Not to mention how in the hell they’ve been treating me all these years,” Ikkaku griped. Lami went and surprised them both, along with the entire rest of the crew, by going between them and bowing at the waist.

“Thank you for taking such good care of my brother all these years!” she said. When she straightened, her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. “It’s been my dream to find someone from Flevance again, and for it to be my brother… you have no idea what it means to me!”

“Big brothers are the best, aren’t they?” Bepo asked cheerfully. Lami mirrored his smile despite the tears leaking down her face.

“They really are! Especially when you haven’t seen them in a long time!”

Bepo brought Lami into a tight hug and the rest of the Hearts cheered—a new younger sister! The captain’s younger sister at that! Things really were looking up.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Pudding had long ago accepted the fact that she was a hostage, waiting to be rescued. In fact, she was perfectly fine with the idea that she was perfectly helpless until at least one of her siblings arrived. Was it going to be an enjoyable reunion? Probably not. What she also knew, however, was that the two men that made up her guard were complete and utter thugs.

“Mommy’s dead—she ain’t gonna help ya,” the guard on the left grinned. She felt the undying urge to take a shower just from him looking at her.

“I have more powerful people behind me than just my mother, if you’re that set on her dying,” she huffed. “Katakuri is a very protective older brother, I’ll have you know.”

“If he can bother hunting down one little lamb while the rest of the flock is panicking in the power vacuum?” Right chuckled. “I doubt. Mommy and Uncle Kaido kinda played into our commodore’s hands.”

“Hmm… I doubt.”

“Oh, you’re gonna doubt a lot of shit once the commodore’s done with you, girlie,” Left chortled.

Ugh. So fucking cringe.

Just then, Pudding noticed that as the two guards moved to better face—and therefore better taunt—her, two women came into view. One with curly hair and the other with hair pulled back in a neat bun, they both were motioning for her to keep quiet. Neither of them seemed to give off the same vibe as the rest of the crew, so Pudding decided to play along. Well, how bad could it get?

“Uh-huh, sure, as though he’d even know what to do with me.”

Without making a sound, both women moved behind the guards, the one with the curly hair hitting them in the back of the head with an oversized wrench to knock them out. The other woman grabbed the keys and unlocked the cell, the keys refusing to make even a single clinking noise. She approached Pudding and touched her pointer and middle finger to the teen’s lips before beginning to work on the restraints.

“Charlotte Pudding, I presume?”

“…and to whom do I owe this rescue?” she asked. “You don’t look like you’re from the Family.”

“Let’s just say we don’t think that a cute kid like you should be with these gross molesters-in-waiting,” the curly-haired woman smirked. She gave Pudding a wink, then a pistol. “I’m Ikkaku, this is Lami. Our captain’s providing us a distraction as we speak.”

“…and how do I know that I’m not walking right from one den of crazies into another?” Pudding asked. The two older women glanced at each other and shrugged.

“I swear on my belching metal baby, the Polar Tang, that we’re actually pretty decent,” Ikkaku claimed.

“…and I swear on my Hippocratic Oath that I would not do anything to provoke harm, nor allow senseless acts to be committed towards anyone under my care, which you now are,” Lami stated.

“So, really, we’re weird, but in an ‘everyone is weird’ sense,” Ikkaku shrugged, “or a ‘our gruff captain is a secret comic book nerd’ sort of sense.”

“I have over eighty siblings—I think I can handle that,” Pudding deadpanned. She tied up her skirt and turned all three eyes towards her rescuers. “Want to cause some trouble on the way out?”

“You sure that’s fine to do with the crew of your mother’s killer?” Ikkaku wondered, eyebrow raised. Pudding simply shrugged.

“It’s either cause some trouble with you two, or…” she grimaced at the sight of her prior jailers, “I get into trouble with these guys. My options aren’t exactly great right now.”

“Then maybe it’s a good thing that we put extra bunks in the women’s quarters after all,” Lami nodded. She then quickly looked over Pudding with a glance—they didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No…” The young Charlotte looked at her rescuers cautiously. “You seem pretty calm.”

“Regarding what?” Ikkaku asked. An explosion went off on the other side of the wall, shaking the room they were in. “That’s just the rest of the losers we sail with—nothing more.”

“No, I mean…” She hesitated, not really knowing how to broach the topic she kept so long a secret. “You aren’t freaked out over my eyes.”

“I’m literally one of two known survivors of a mass poisoning event that everyone else thought was a plague, so you’re in luck: we know what it’s like to be stared at by assholes,” Lami shrugged. “Besides, that eye of yours reads Poneglyphs, correct?”

“Supposedly…”

“Then you’re going to love what we’ve got waiting for you.” Lami gestured towards the door with her head as another rumble shook them, though not quite as violently. “How ‘bout it? Prove to your family you can do something without them?”

“…and what makes you think I have that sort of family…?”

“You said it yourself, kid: you’ve got over eighty siblings.” Ikkaku nervously eyed what she hoped was not the ballast tank and laughed awkwardly. “C’mon ladies, we should really get out of here before our cover’s blown!”

Another rumble rocked the ship and the three got going, headed back towards the miniature docking sub and away from the mess. They got out and Ikkaku sent a pulse through the water, letting Shachi and Penguin know it was alright to begin attacking the ship in earnest.

Mission accomplished.

64 notes · View notes

commander-writergirl · 2 years

Text

Little Family of Four

Synopsis: Five or six years after getting married, Marc finally feels like he’s were he’s supposed to be. With you by his side, he has never felt lighter or happier.

Pair: Marc Spector x Jewish!fem!reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, talk of trauma, talks of difficult pregnancy

Word Count: 1,451

A/N: This takes place a five or six years from the last Hanukkah story, I wanted to write something happy where Marc was comfortable with himself, his identity, and who he’s become. Also hopefully I wrote DID correctly or as close as possible. I got the idea from the comics so fingers crossed.

Tags: @romanarose

Marc stood adjusting Wes on his hip. He refused to call his son Wesley even though it was the compromise you two had made in the form of using Wendy’s name.

You hated the name Wendall and was much too close to Randall. Marc argued that you didn’t need to honor his mother, but you just raised an eyebrow and pointed on the small bundle in your arms saying, “This is your son, I can’t even see any of my family in him at this moment after spending ten hours pushing him out of my body.”

Elias backed you up, saying how much Wes looked like Marc. Except his eyes, his eyes were all you. Bright, full of wonder. Not brown but green. The type of green Marc saw every morning when he woke up and every night as he fell asleep. He was proud Wes had your eyes.

Marc looked back at his son to see the four-year-old playing with the Chai necklace your parents had sent as a gift for Hanukkah. It was small and was on a leather cord instead of a chain. It had become Wes’s favorite thing, no toy compared.

Marc kissed his head, “Do you know what that symbol means?”

Wes nodded, “Life.”

“Yes, it does.” Marc smiled.

“I want to light candles.” Wes said having a similar permeant pout to his lower lip like Marc does, though neither of you know if Wes forced it a little more or if it was part of him growing.

“How about you help me tonight? Then we can practice so next year you can light them yourself. Deal?” Marc held out his pinkie. The only way Wes believed any promises or deals could be kept, and Marc refused to ever break one.

“Deal.” Wes wrapped his little pinkie around Marc’s.

Marc smiled and kissed his son’s cheek before tickling his belly. Wes giggled and squirmed curling into his father even more. When the two of them heard squealing, they looked over to see you walking in with Rachel.

Rachel, the compromise in honoring Randall.

Rachel, Marc’s little star. He didn’t understand how even being married with a child, your father still dotted on you and hung on to every word. But Marc understood now, from the first moment Rachel was placed in his arms, he knew he would do anything to make her smile.

“Alright, we are all cleaned and changed.” You smiled at Marc as you stood next to him, one arm supporting the baby wrap you had invested in after two months of arm fatigue with Wes. Marc even had his own when he was too busy to keep both arms from being busy.

“Sissy sick?” Wes looked down at his little sister. Marc had taken to explaining what being a big brother meant.

“No sweetie,” you reached over and stroked Wes’s curls back. “She’s just a baby and her getting bigger sometimes means stinky diapers and spit up.” You smiled as your son nodded. “Now, we should light the candles before anything else comes out of this little one.”

Marc chuckled lightly and nodded, grabbing the Shamash. He gave it to Wes as he grabbed the lighter. Wes kept a tight grip on the Shamash as Marc let the wick catch fire. Marc set the lighter down and wrapped his hand around Wes’s and began saying the prayers as they began to light the eight candles.

“Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech haolam, asher kid’shanu b-mitzvotav, vtzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.”

As you, Marc, and Wes finished the prayer, Rachel made a cooing noise. You smiled and kissed her head. “Happy first Hanukkah my little Rakhel.”

“She came just in time.” Marc whispered against your temple.

“Ha, two months early and four weeks in the hospital early.” You sighed and rubbed the flat of your knuckle against Rachel’s cheek. “I was so scared for a while.”

“Well, she’s here, and healthy. Wes is healthy.” Marc rubbed your back. When Rachel was born, he called his father. No prompting, and nothing but his own fear.

Elias had walked Marc through the Mi Shebeirach (Prayer for Healing) as he sat with Wes in the hospital chapel. Three days later Elias was in New York and taking Wes back to the apartment so Marc could sit with you. And then Elias came back and sent Marc home with Wes and took over watching you.

“And you are healthy my moonlight.” Marc said. You turned to face him and nuzzled your nose against his.

“I know. How are the boys?” Since the stress with Rachel passed, Steven and Jake have been giving Marc time to bond with his daughter.

They had done it with Wes, something about letting Marc bond to help with the last few steps towards what you had titled ‘Recalibrating the Mental Understanding of Life.’ It was a joke you had come up with when Marc popped the question. He got a laugh out of it since his therapist said if it wasn’t for your understanding nature and willingness to work with Marc in your relationship, he probably would have kept going the way he was before.

Of course, with everything it meant Jake and Steven fronted less but Marc assured you that he could still hear them and feel them. And you always welcomed them and still loved them.

“They are good, excited to meet the new little star.” Marc chuckled hearing Steven’s excitement and Jake’s threats if anyone should hurt her.

“Well, I miss them. So, it will be nice to talk with them.” You smiled and walked over to the couch. Marc followed and sat down, sitting Wes between you.

Marc closed his eyes and listened as you talked to Wes, letting his mind drift.

“You’ve done amazing Marc.” Marc could see Steven sitting in the library he always found comfort in.

“We’re proud of you, amigo,” Jake raised a glass, the bar setting he always seemed to fit into.

Marc looked at his own mental safe space, at one point it had looked like an alter room to Khonsu but now it looked like the nursery with Hamsas and a mezuzah on the door frame. The toddler bed and crib on either side. Somewhere he could hear you humming.

Then a thought occurred to Marc, “I know I’m getting better but... you guys won’t leave me, will you?”

When Marc looked over at a mirror his eight-year-old self stared back at him.

“We’ll always be with you Marc; we can’t leave you anymore then you can completely forget your trauma. We’ll just be... quieter.” Steven said giving a gentle smile.

“Besides this time, we’re going willingly, unlike that time you shoved us both so far down when the cracks started you couldn’t handle it.” Jake said taking a sip from his glass.

Marc winced at that memory. It had been before you met you and right after Khonsu. He remembered some missions, but Jake had confessed to having been the front of a few that needed a little more.

“We’ll be here. Besides as long as Y/N wants to see us we’ll find ways to stay present,” Jake smirked making Marc roll his eyes and Steven try to hide a laugh.

“Abba, Abba wake up,” Marc smiled at the sound of Wes’s voice and could feel him pushing on Marc’s shoulder.

“Go, spend time with the family. We’ll still be here.” Steven said with a smile.

Marc nodded and slowly started breathing as things faded away and Marc could feel Wes jumping.

Marc quickly pulled Wes down and tickled his belly. “Hey little man, you got to be careful.” Wes giggled and grabbed Marc’s hand. “Don’t want to accidently hurt Ema or Rachel.”

Wes nodded and looked at Marc’s wedding band. He began to trace the blue opal center and watch the light shine off it. Marc used to spend hours staring at it himself, finding it hard to believe that anyone would marry him.

Wes giggled as you tickled his feet. You wore your wedding ring on your right hand in the traditional place of your index finger. Mainly because even before you were married you wore rings mainly on your index fingers. So, as you tickled your son’s feet, Marc could see the rose gold ring on your finger with in-laid blue opals.

He moved closer and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your head.

“Happy Hanukkah Y/N Spector.” He smiled feeling you nuzzle his shoulder.

“Happy Hanukkah Marc Spector.” You adjusted Rachel as she began to whine and Marc watched you as you laid her against your chest, Wes moving to cuddle you on the opposite side.

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