#he can also deliver some good news to the grief-stricken man

[thoughtfuldolia]

One day into an ordeal that is already becoming mentally taxing, Kukui has experienced being shot, kidnapped, preyed upon by mareanie, and witnessing his friend get hurt for helping him. After escaping his first capture by Rocket thugs, he hid away from everyone to keep his friends and family safe, and to save his own skin.

Now a swanna, Kukui floated in an isolated pond deep in Seaward Cave, filled with dread. He overheard from his captors that every experiment died after their body processed each DNA sample in the ditto potion. Will he ever see his family again?

He was not expecting Molayne to know exactly where he hid. Despite his desire to keep his friends out of this, Kukui was so glad to have the company.

[aliflower88]

I realized that I have some more recs and nowhere else to put them so here’s pt. 2 :’)

The Amestrian Candidate:

Summary: General Roy Mustang—charming, intelligent, heroic—is predicted to be the next Fuhrer of Amestris. But a series of acts of terrorism drive the General into a ruthless race against a magnetic opponent. Mustang and his team scramble to salvage a campaign in the face of rising nationalism, scandal, and international tension. If they succeed, they can save an infant democracy from collapse. Mustang must consider what and whom he is willing to sacrifice, and he must ask himself the most difficult question of his life: can one be a good politician and a good man?

  This fic has a really intriguing plot and realistic post-canon politics. I've always preferred romance within a larger story and it executes that perfectly.

Homefront:

Summary: Miss Riza's arrival in Resembool has the potential to ruin everything.

    Riza becomes Ed and Al’s caretaker after their mother passes. This fanfic is wonderful, it feels historically accurate which is great and if you're a fan of parental Riza then you'll definitely enjoy this.

Beautiful People 

Summary: Soon after the conclusion of the Ishvalan Civil War, Captain Maes Hughes receives a phone call in the middle of the night. The message is short, concise... and perhaps the most terrifying thing Hughes has ever heard.

Hawkeye's apartment. Now. Come alone. Someone has been hurt.

A promise was once made amidst the sands of a distant desert land: oaths will be upheld, and secrets will be scorched away. The sinful had waited too long; Roy Mustang was indebted to his promise, and Riza Hawkeye had come to collect.

  This is probably my favourite depiction of Roy burning Riza's back that I've read. It's super intense and vivid, I really loved it.

Baby Your a Haunted House: 

Summary: Riza Hawkeye, aged 11, knows two things:

1. Roy Mustang is a useless city-kid

2. There's a haint in the woods

Roy Mustang, aged 15, knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt that there's no such thing as ghosts.

  This fic has excellent writing and a wonderfully creepy atmosphere. I've re-read it many, many times. (also I adore feral young Riza and it definitely delivered on that.)

The Lathe of Hell

Summary: 1908 • Ishval

An uneasy ceasefire grips the ruins of Ishval, but near the medical station at Daliha, Amestrian soldiers are dying. Desperate to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, the 27th Infantry Division sends Riza Hawkeye and Solf J. Kimblee to smoke the assassin out.

But Roy Mustang suspects Kimblee's aim isn't the death of one rogue Ishvalan.

For Hawkeye has a secret, one the Crimson Alchemist hungers for... a power forged in fire.

This is one of the two great labyrinths into which human minds are drawn: the question of duty versus predestination...

There is an old story... perhaps you've heard of it. A man falls asleep and loses his way on the journey through life. He encounters a poet and the two begin a series of travels through Hell where they witness the many punishments for those who disobeyed God during their lives.

   I adore Kimblee in this fic! I know this list is about royai but seeing him interact with them is super interesting. It also has incredible writing and portrays their time in Ishval expertly. 

Ex Tempore 

Summary: Riza Hawkeye comes into the possession of a family heirloom upon her grandfather's final words: "Keep him safe." Confused and grief-stricken, Riza finds herself pulled in time to Prohibition Era New York, recovering from a gang-related firefight under the care of Dr. Roy Mustang, a reluctant member of the Hughes-Mustang crime family and a self-proclaimed guardian to two boys by the names of Edward and Alphonse.

    This is a 1920s mafia/time travel au, It has such a fun premise that is executed really really well.

alright folks, I need to know your favorite royai fanfiction, the ones that kept you awake at night, the ones that raised the bar so high that nothing could compare, the ones that consumed your soul and left only ashes afterwards because they were so beautiful that for days you did nothing but stare blankly in the void without purpose

[doctorofmagic]

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

[obaewankenobis]

for forever — obi-wan kenobi

pairing(s)  :  obi-wan kenobi x reader ( mostly focused on obi-wan’s character, not the relationship because i am a hoe for this man )

summary  :  after the fall of the jedi order, you can finally be together. alternatively, obi-wan needs therapy/deserves happiness.

word count  :  2.1k

warning(s)  :  character death, a bit of angst i guess but it’s mostly fluff.

notes   :  roughly edited so i apologize if things don’t make sense, i honestly came up with this on a whim and have No Idea what was going through my head when i wrote this. the povs also switch a lot but enjoy </3.

       The sand bit at his fair skin, the grainy winds of Tatooine ruffled through his auburn locks, peppered with strands of grey, as Obi-Wan Kenobi stood, rigid and grief stricken. Kind wrinkles framed his eyes, eyes weighed down by exhaustion and desolation, the memory of a thousand wars flickering in the brilliant blue reflection. Without speaking, the woman looking at him from afar knew he had suffered a lifetime of hardship and grief, his aching heart not given a moment to mourn the loss of those closest to him. The mahogany cloak billowed around his body, covering the burnt, tattered tan robes he wore, as the wind picked up, signaling there would be little time before the twin suns set and it was much too dangerous to be outside. Snuggled between the lone man’s arms, swathed in soft cream blankets to shelter him from the cruel and unforgiving weather, was a baby. With sea blue eyes and the sparse tufts of pale blonde hair, the newborn was the mirror image of his father — that in itself was bittersweet.

       Fire. That was all Obi-Wan could remember, the smoldering lava confining him and his enemy — once his friend, his brother — inside a tight circle of flashing blue and blazing rage. Now, things were blissfully quiet, as if the universe was trying to give him peace of mind after what it had taken from him. With heavy shoulders and hollow eyes, Obi-Wan was a shell of who he used to be: a great warrior and an excellent negotiator, all gone. His last mission was here, on Tatooine, to deliver the baby to his aunt and uncle: Owen and Beru Lars. Then, he would spend the rest of his years wasting away in a sandy prison, languishing in his defeat.

       “Is it true?” The woman from afar, who had taken to staring at him from a distance, finally approached him, awaiting his answer with bated breath — Beru. Is it true? The words reverberated in his head, as the reality came crashing down upon him. The woman in front of him needed certainty, she needed answers, answers Obi-Wan could not give her.

       “Yes,” came the final reply. Who knew a single word could hold such heavy meaning? Yes. An entire government who’s history spanned hundreds of years prior collapsed within a single day? Yes, that had happened. His religion, who he had devoted his entire life to and poured his soul into, gone? Yes, decimated without a sliver of mercy. The baby’s father, the hero of the galaxy, the crown jewel of the Jedi Order, killed? Yes, murdered in cold blood.

       Beru finally brought her attention to the boy nestled within the robes of the man. “Is he . . . ” She seemed to only speak in half questions, as if finishing the sentence would make it a harsh reality, and leaving the query to hang heavy in the air would somehow leave her life in a fairytale.

       “Yes,” he replied again, nearly choking on his words as the boy let out a tiny coo, as if he sensed they were discussing him.

       “Oh.” There was a pause, a flicker of hesitation, before the woman decided to continue her pattern of half inquiries to form her own story. “May I?” With shaking arms, Beruu reached forward to take the boy from Obi-Wan’s grasp and welcome the baby into her own warm embrace. Part of him didn’t want to let the child go, for once he did he would have no real connection to his past life. Letting go of the boy meant letting go of everything, from his first steps in the Temple, to his meeting with his apprentice on Naboo, to the countless, sleepless nights in a war torn galaxy, it would all be gone. The woman’s tender smile and patient gaze was nearly patronizing, she was trying to sympathize with something she couldn’t possibly understand. No one could. A wave of fury washed over him, trapping him in a cage of his own emotions. Obi-Wan had never felt such an intensity roll over his body, preferring to keep his temperament a tranquil, emotionless pit. But this raw, uncontrollable fury was soon washed out with an even more overpowering bout of sorrow, shaking him with such force it made his knees wobble and threaten to give way. For over thirty years he was taught emotions were the enemy, by being detached and aloof he would survive, and look where that had gotten him.  

      Another soft cry from the baby jerked Obi-Wan back into the present moment, as his tiny arms reached for the woman, drawn to her sunny kindness and comforting aura; he realized a place to call home or a comforting shoulder to cry on was never something he could offer as the baby grew older. The woman made a small clicking sound with her tongue, looking up at Obi-Wan with an expectant gaze, and yet his grip on the baby remained the same. Although his mind seemed desperate to listen to logic, to reason, his body remained motionless, following the dull ache and painful longing in his heart. The battle between his mind and emotions lasted a fraction of a second, and at last, as it had time and time again, his mind won.

       Like he had done all his life, selflessly sacrificing himself for thee good of the galaxy, he let go.

     The woman took the baby in her arms, and began her journey back to her homestead, pausing just slightly to exchange one last parting smile and a word of comfort. “I think someone wants to see you, Master Kenobi.” With that, Beru began walking, a happy baby in her arms, to her husband, just as the sky merged from clear blue to salmon pink and hazy orange, the twin suns beginning to disappear over the horizon rapidly. As the light dimmed and dusk settled in, the man could make out the shadowy figures of Beru and Owen Lars, holding Luke Skywalker in unmoving content.

       Here to see me? Obi-Wan frowned, reflecting on the woman’s words. This was not his home, his very identity was supposed to remain a secret, who could possibly want to see him? Unless . . .

       No, that was impossible. He had mourned your death just as he had mourned every other Jedi’s death the moment their own clones turned against them, and he would not allow even a tiny sliver of hope to crawl its way back into his heart. Because in the end, he could only cling to the belief that things would get better, and false hope in such a desperate time would be his undoing.

—

       You wondered how long you could stand in the shadows before he noticed you, standing awkwardly by his dewback as he delivered Padmé and Anakin's son to his new family. Like Obi-Wan, you had suffered the loss of everything and everyone you knew, your entire life destroyed in the span of a second, and all you could do was stand there, watching everything burn. The Jedi robes you once wore with pride, robes that were once a symbol of humility and hope across the galaxy, now put a priceless bounty on the head of anyone who wore them.

       “Obi-Wan?” The name was dry in your throat, mouth parched and lips cracked due to the harsh Tatooine heat.

       Though he was always subtle, you could see his entire demeanor change, the way his shoulders became straighter, the way his hands, once balled up into fists of worry, were now relaxed and laying loosely at his side. In a moment, he had turned around and closed the distance between the two of you, caramel boots growing dull and scuffed as he stepped through the unforgiving desert surface beneath him. “You’re alive,” his voice came out in a hushed, cautious tone, disbelief still tainting the edges. “I thought — Yoda and I — the only ones left — ” his words grew more jumbled with each passing phrase that left his lips.

       “But I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off, the calm gentleness of your tone making him stop in his tracks. Slowly, each movement pained and deliberate, you stepped closer, inching your way forward until he was right in front of you. Neither of you could look away; with the Jedi Order dead, there was no reason to hide in secrecy now.

—

       To realize he was not alone was comforting, but to know it was you he could seek company in was freeing. In that moment, with the distance so close between your bodies, Obi-Wan dared not breathe, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out the smallest of breaths — this was all he had ever wanted, and still, despite everything, it was something he believed he could never have.

       He wouldn’t allow himself to believe it. Not after he spent all those years repressing the desire that burned so deeply within him it began to rot within his heart, trapped with no release in sight. At one point, he had every reason to deny the yearning stirring within him, but now? Now there was no war, no Council, no code, no nothing to stop himself from unleashing decades of pent up turmoil within him.

       And stars, it was suffocating.

       He couldn’t do this.

       “You know you don’t have to push me away any more.” A suggestion more than a factual statement; voice thick and barely audible.

       Was this a dream, a fantasy meant to be chased after in his sleep? Or some sick, twisted premonition the Force was trying to convey to him? So many nights he had spent languishing in his loneliness, dazed in a delusion that remained but a figment of his imagination.

       “I know.”

       “What?”

       “The Jedi are no more. We . . . We don’t have to pretend we don’t have  — ” The words were bittersweet on his tongue; even with no one there to watch and scold him, he could not betray his way of life so easily. That everyone I have ever loved, I have watched die in my arms? And throughout all of that, I have never been tempted by the dark side, but if I lost you, I would be afraid of my own morality? Those were not easy thoughts to formulate into a coherent sentence — there were no words Obi-Wan could say that would even begin to describe how he felt.

       Instead, in a tender gesture of vulnerability, he reached out through the Force, and all at once it came crashing down on him.

       This feeling . . . it was all consuming, and he was drowning, struggling to keep his head above water and not surrender to its frosty depths. He was submerged in an endless stretch of icy ocean water so frigid and numbing, that he felt nothing and everything all at once. It was terrifying to think — and let you know — you held so much power over him, but in the same instance, he felt at peace, like a weight he had dragged around for decades was finally lifted off his shoulders. I love you, rang as bright as the city lights on Coruscant and as clear as a Nabooian waterfall. I love you.

       “I love you, too.” He heard your voice in a soft whisper, swelled up with emotion as you took in everything. Chills erupted down his spine; he couldn't quite tell if it was from the inky blanket being tugged across the sky as dusk descended into nightfall, or if it was the four word phrase that left your lips.

—

       “I cannot live without you,” Obi-Wan let out a shaky exhale, breath fanning across your face just slightly, your foreheads making contact in the lightest movements. You felt dizzy, in a dreamlike trance, for you had never been this close to him. You could see every horror he had survived in his glassy blue eyes, notice every perfect imperfection that blemished his skin and made him all the more real. In a moment, his face had become blurred as he closed the distance and finally, finally, his lips were on yours, and you connected in a long awaited, eternally sought after kiss. You could feel his hands, calloused but gentle, cupping your face, as your own fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, the kiss grew more fervent and needy, every rule you had ever lived by crumbling as you melted deeper into his touch.

       After a long moment, you broke away, breathless, your face still tantalizingly close to his.

       “I will never leave you, Obi-Wan,” your lips parted in a determined vow, a promise you would keep to your dying breath. The Jedi were dead, and yet you never felt more alive.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

The Suffering Savior (Isaiah 53)

One picked up an old book - and found it fragrant. The secret was that a sweet flower had been put in among the leaves by someone, and its fragrance had permeated the whole volume. So the fragrance of Jesus has perfumed the Bible from beginning to end. We do not find the name Jesus until we reach the beginning of the New Testament - but the sweetness of the name is everywhere. We find it even in the earliest pages of the Old Testament. No sooner were the gates of Eden closed on our first parents - than the gospel was given. True, the language was dim, not like the clear sentences of the Gospels; yet the promise is there in Eden - as the bud of a very lovely flower which, by and by, opens out under the increasing warmth of progressing revelation; until in the later prophets, especially in Isaiah, it appears in rare beauty.

No other chapter in the Old Testament has been a greater revealer of Christ, than has the fifty-third of Isaiah. Its words are almost as familiar as those of the Twenty-third Psalm. They are repeated at Communion services in thousands of churches, and are read in secret by countless devout believers, who love to sit in the shadow of the cross.

The best that can be done in brief space with the fifty-third chapter, is merely to indicate a few of its truths. The first verse has a tone of discouragement. "Who has believed our message?" That has always been the discouragement of the bearers of spiritual good tidings. If news comes that gold has been discovered in some far-away place, people believe it and flock by thousands to the spot. But when God's messengers deliver their messages, although they tell of the most glorious things, people are slow to believe.

The second verse reminds us that Christ's earthly beginnings were unpromising. "He grew up before Him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground." These figures are striking - a tender plant shooting up from a dry stem which seems dead, a root growing in a desert place. The field was not promising. But the root was not dry or dead - but living, and it grew into rich beauty. It became a great tree whose branches reach now over all the earth, with cool shade in which the weary rest, and rich fruits for men's hunger.

The description goes on. "He was despised, and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." The saddest thing about the life of Christ - was that men despised and rejected Him. He came with a great love in His heart. He came to do men good, and save them, to draw them away from their sins, to make them love God, to lead them to heaven. He came in love - and yet men despised and rejected Him. It is the same still.

Men do not like to look upon suffering. They can see no beauty in it. Pain is ugly to the human sense. Anciently it was thought that sickness was a mark of divine disfavor. The weak were looked at with scorn. Even yet we have not learned to see blessing hidden in suffering. The Servant of the Lord came in weakness, and He was rejected. He came to the needy and the sinful, with treasures of life and glory, which He offered to all. But men paid no heed to His knocking and His calls, and He had to pass on with His blessings.

We learn the object of the sufferings of Christ. The ancients thought that when a man suffered he was being punished for sin. We have this thought here in the words, "We did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted." That is the way Job's friends judged him. But here it is taught, that not for His own sin - but for ours, was the Messiah suffering. "Surely He has borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows."

A Japanese Christian illustrated what Jesus did for sinners, by this story: A mother was crossing a great prairie with her baby in her arms. She saw flames coming in the dry grass. She could not escape by flight, so swiftly were the fiery billows rolling on towards her. So with her hands she speedily dug a hole in the soft ground, laid her baby in it, and then covered it with her own body. She was burned to death in the wave of fire that rolled over her - but the child was safe, unhurt. The Christian explained, "Just so did give Christ Himself - to save us."

We have a picture, also, of those whom Jesus seeks to save. "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." This verse tells us that all are sinners. Of course, we all believe this, or admit it in a general way. But do we really admit it as a close, personal matter? "Like sheep!" Sheep are miserably foolish. They are always straying away, going wherever they can find a tuft of grass to nibble at, until at last they are far from the fold and do not know how to find the way back again. Like sheep, we have all gone astray. Every one has turned to his own way instead of going in God's way, the way of truth and holiness.

The Servant of the Lord was a silent sufferer. It is not common for men to remain silent in pain. But here it is said: "He was oppressed - yet when He was afflicted, He opened not His mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before its shearers is silent - so He opened not His mouth." One of the highest qualities in him who is called to suffer - is silence in endurance.

Another quality in the suffering of the Servant of the Lord, is its injustice. "By oppression and judgment He was taken away, and as for His generation, who among them considered that He was cut off out of the land of the living for the transgression of My people to whom the stroke was due?" The forms of law were not observed. "By a forced and tyrannous judgment He was taken." Then they gave Him a convict's grave. They made His grave with the wicked, although He had done no violence, neither was deceit in His mouth.

Such perversion of justice seems so terrible, that men might ask, "Where is God, that this cruel wrong is permitted?" But the answer is, "It pleased Jehovah to bruise Him!" In the Hebrew, the word has not the harshness it seems to have in the English. God did not delight in the bruising - but His purpose was in it. "Yet it pleased Jehovah to bruise Him; He has put Him to grief: when You shall make His soul an offering for sin - He shall see His seed, He shall prolong His days, and the pleasure of Jehovah shall prosper in His hand."

Then we have a vision of the glorious outcome of the sufferings of the Messiah. "He shall see of the travail of His soul - and shall be satisfied ." He is not sorry now that He endured the cross and all its shame. He does not regret His sufferings and sacrifices on the earth. The blessings which have come from His humiliation, have more than satisfied Him. He sees countless millions of souls saved, which must have perished forever, if He had not gone to the cross to redeem them. The life of the Son of God seemed a tremendous price to pay for the ransom of the lost - but it will appear in the end that the price was not too great. We do not know the worth of human souls, nor can we begin to estimate it until we try to understand how much Christ paid to redeem us.

You say that a certain professed Christian is a very unworthy one, with scarcely a line of spiritual beauty in him. "Christ will never have any comfort from him," you say. "He will never make a saint." "But wait!" says the patient Master. "My work on this man - is not yet finished. He is very imperfect now, and I am not satisfied with him. But wait until My work on his life has been completed. By and by he shall wear the full image of My face, and I shall be satisfied as I see in him - the blessed prints of all My sorrows and My love."

[loveandfictionforall]

I am as fine as a daisy

Hey guys, I thought maybe you would like to read it here too :) I posted it also on fanfction.net. It is just the first chapter :) 

Humming quietly to herself, Beth was standing in the kitchen of the Gilbert house. Today was the first day after the summer break and she wanted to make sure that she got everything ready for her younger siblings. The last months were hard and she was quite often overwhelmed as she was appointed as the legal guardian of Elena and Jeremy. Stricken with grief she had to pull herself together to be able to support both of them, even though she thought she was failing throughout. 

With quick fingers, she picked the water heater up and poured the hot, steaming water in a large pot which had a filter filled with fresh and dried herbs in it. After filling the water up to the brim of the pot, she laid the water heater down and began making the best sandwiches of the whole town! Giggling she shook her head, a large smile showing some of her teeth as she praised herself. Nevertheless, she knew that the Grill made the best sandwiches but someday she would be as good as them! 

With nimble fingers Beth she put on the toast some cheese, ham, potatoes, and cucumbers. Quickly she cut them into those silly triangles and narrowly missed her fingertips.

“Oh, fuck. That was close.”, she grinned to herself and rolled her shoulders as a small sign of discomfort. She hated wounds on her fingers. They hurt more than any other wounds. Deliberately slow the young woman wrapped the sandwiches and laid them next to two thermoses. Throwing a quick look at the pot she noticed how well the tea was processed. Taking a deep breath she could smell faintly the different herbs which mixed together, shuddering slightly as she thought of the delicious taste of her own special tea. Carefully she picked the pot up, the tea swapping against the brim and running down at the outside of the pot. Annoyed with herself she rolled her eyes and turned to the thermoses to fill them. 

Just as she finished filling the thermoses she could hear a door closing upstairs before a pair of feet began running down the stairs. 

“Good morning, sister.”, greeted Elena as she leaned against the fridge while she watched with amused eyes how her big sister was scurrying around, trying to get everything together and ready to go. 

“Greetings.”, Beth replied as she turned towards her sister, her big smile like always in place. “How’s it going?”, she asked at a fast pace, her tone as always light while she wiggled her eyebrows and made Elena crack a smile.  

“It…”, the smaller girl began, then trailed off and looked on the floor, watching the bare feet of her sister tapping a rhythm she didn’t know. “I will try my best. I will be happy again and reply to everyone asking that I am better.”, she said, trying to be determined. 

“I know you will.”, pulled Beth her out of her dark thoughts. “It just takes some time.”, she added and her smile shrank a bit. A small silence began as both girls were getting lost a little in their thought. 

“Oh, by the way.”, Elena spoke up again, a small smile pulling her lips up and making her eyes sparkle a bit. “Bonnie will drive me to school.” As an answer, the brunette began nodding rapidly. 

“And Jeremy?” Hardly her words had left her mouth Beth and Elena could hear someone stomping down the stairs. With a crooked smile and his backpack just thrown on one shoulder, Jeremy walked into the kitchen and began putting his thermos and sandwiches in his open backpack. 

“I will walk.”, Jeremy casually said and walked then towards the door, just stopping to put his shoes on. “Bye.”, he gave them a small wave and disappeared.

“Well, that answers my question.”, Beth off-handly said and turned towards the pot in the sink to begin filling it with cold water. Elena looked at her with wide eyes.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”, she asked and Beth instantly knew that Elena was triggered by her casual comment. Sighing to herself and with a small roll of her eyes, she turned her head towards her sister. “Duh, of course not but what should I do, hm? I will talk with him after work.”, the woman responded with her light voice but without a smile. 

“Speaking of work,”, Beth added as she turned towards the pot again, deliberately ignoring her sister’s disapproving stare while watching the water run into the pot, “I will be home late today. Can you order some pizza before I get home? My work ends at 7.” 

Huffing Elena crossed her arms before her chest before she nodded. Without further talking, she began picking up her lunch. 

“I will go now, Bonni is probably waiting now.”, she shortly announced. Beth didn’t respond and as she heard the door fall shut, she let out a loud groan while rolling her shoulders annoyed. 

“Why did I agree to be their legal guardian?”, she asked herself, pissed off with the whole situation. “As if Elena would handle Jeremy better.”, she added bitterly.

After some deep breaths, Beth pulled herself together and put on her large smile. With fast steps, she left the house too and got into her car to drive to the cemetery. 

Just as always Beth first tended to all the graves and other patches of grass and flowers. It took her some hours to work through everything and after her break, she was finally finished. With a smile and sparkling eyes, she walked towards her very own special place in the cemetery. Here she was growing all kinds of herbs and flowers for her daily use. While she always watered her plants, she noticed how some of them were ready to be harvested. Again she began to quietly hum to herself as she kneeled down and gently pulled them out. One by one she filled the vervain herb in her small, braided basket.  She took more than enough vervain so she would be able to give some to the Council. A small annoyed huff left her mouth as she thought about the Council. She still couldn’t understand how they would only want vervain while there were other herbs just as useful as it. Pushing these thoughts away she also harvested some more plants like Basil, Angelica, Clove, and Marjoram. All of them covered the vervain. 

After she put them all in her small basket, Beth began taking a casual stroll through the graveyard while looking out for some tasks she could give herself until the end of her shift. It didn't take long until she noticed the person standing before some graves. Not recognizing him she walked towards him, set on introducing herself. 

“Hello stranger.”, she said as she was directly behind him, just mere inches before his back. Surprised by the closeness the young man quickly turned and looked with wide eyes down to the smaller woman, standing right in his personal space. With her large, bright smile and her sparkling eyes, she didn’t look like a threat. 

“Uh, hi.”, he responded uncomfortably and leaned a bit back. 

“Who are you? I don’t know you and I know everybody.”, she chirped as she stared at him without blinking. The young man before her began scratching his head. 

“I am new here. I lived here as a kid and now I am back. I am Stefan Salvatore.”, he answered her and she hummed quietly. 

“Salvatore, huh? Well, I am Elisabeth Gilbert. Nice to meet you!”, she introduced herself while she looked up and down at him, noticing the lapis lazuli ring on his finger. “Hope to see you again sometime.”, added and waved before she walked away, silently thinking to add more vervain into the food and water for her siblings and her. 

Stretching as much as she could until her bones popped, Beth let herself flop down on the couch where her sister sat with the pizza. 

“How was school?”, she asked while she pulled a pizza box onto her lap and inspected the pizza in it. It took some seconds until Elena responded.

“We have a new guy at school.”, she began and Beth gave her a wicked smile while wiggling her eyebrows. Snorting, Elena hit her sister against her arm and rolled her eyes. 

“And does he have a name?”, she asked curiously even though she had an assumption. 

“Stefan.”, Elena answered shortly and took a quick bite from her pizza to avoid talking too much about him. Beth’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as she stared at her sister who tried to ignore it. Nodding she agreed to finish this topic and move on. 

“Oh, tomorrow there will be a bonfire.”, the younger sister added after she finished her pizza. “I think I will go.”

“Sure you do.”, replied Beth and stood up. Taking her pizza box with the last slices she turned to the stairs and began her way to Jeremy’s room. 

Gently she knocked on his door and waited until he yelled “Enter!”. 

“Hey, Jer.”, she greeted her young brother and walked to his bed where he laid, leaning against the headboard. Putting the pizza box on his bedside table, she sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him silently for some seconds. She noticed his slightly red eyes which were locked firmly on his phone while he ignored her stare. 

“Jer..”, she began but he interrupted her. 

“Don’t say anything if you want to lecture me or are trying to be a ‘sensible parent’”, he said annoyed and looked at his sister who closed her mouth again. After some awkward seconds, she sighed. 

“How about some cool material arts classes? Or some painting classes? Some self-defense classes? Just you and me.”, she suggested and ignored the sting in her heart as he rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Just go.”, he replied shortly and looked down on his phone again. Beth didn’t know what she should do. 

“Okay.”, she whispered, her typical smile vanished as she looked sadly at her younger brother. She felt so helpless as she couldn’t help him with his grieving. He was slipping. And that fast. 

Quietly she left his room and went into her own, undressing and taking a shot of water mixed with some vervain. Tomorrow she would deliver the vervain to Liz and repaint the threshold with water and mix it with some of her herbs.

[xxyumeno]

Disclaimer: Crepus is headcanon heavy due to a lack of information on his character, despite his small appearance and mention in manga and in Diluc’s and Kaeya’s respective character stories.

INFORMATION

Name: Crepus Ragnvindr Alias: Umbra (present) Face Claim: Cross Marian from D.Grey-man Gender: Male Nation: Mondstadt Affiliation: Dawn Winery (former) / Abyss (present) Age: Mid 40s- Early 50s Birth Date: October 23rd Zodiac: Scorpio Vision: None Constellation: None Sexuality: Demiromantic/Pansexual Status: Deceased (former) / Alive (present)

PERSONALITY

While alive Crepus was a man who would put the lives of his family above himself, even if it meant sacrificing himself to do so. As he had done so in order to protect Diluc from Ursa the Drake from killing him. He love his family above all else as he has lost so much that he cherish what family he has deeply.

His heart is big and perhaps care too much. It is known both within the Dawn Winery and Mondstadt that Crepus has the tendency of bringing in and/or adopting strays to household. When he teased about it he tend to get real embarrassed to the point even the tips of ears turn red. He’ll try to laugh it off like it isn’t a big deal. Just feeling that others deserve a second chance at having a better life if possible.

Crepus is one to support and encourage those to reach their goals. This is quite apparent when Diluc had received his vision at a young age. Though, he may help he also allows those to solve problems on their own with giving small tips here and there. He isn’t one to completely solve a problem for another as it would be a waste and there wouldn’t be much learnt if he did.

He has developed a bad habit often talking ill about himself. Feeling regret and shame that he had not achieve a vision when he was a much younger man. Feeling it being quite hopeless now that he was no longer in his prime of youth.

 After being revived very little of his original personality has remained. His kind and caring side only tends to show in spades and it really all depends on whether or not give he give a damn about you. Otherwise, he was quite prone to playing with others damning the consequences of his actions. The only times one will actually see him being soft is with animals. He has an aura that naturally draws them to him somehow.

He has an undying loyalty to the Abyss, for it was the Abyss that revived and gave him a second chance of life. Getting him to betray, turn his back on, sell information on will only fail and put one life in mortal peril. As Umbra he does not believe in giving other second chances and can be rather cruel about it. If by chance he does show you a sliver of mercy, best believe it will come at a price. Perhaps a broken limb or two to remember to his kind generosity.

Umbra isn’t the optimistic and has no problem with delivering the cold reality to those who fool themselves otherwise. In doing so make him appear to be an asshole to others in the wake of despair and hopelessness. In a backward way he want those who faced his pessimism and use that energy to prove him wrong. Yet, only few have done so only leaving him with bitter disappointment.

It quite easy to catch Umbra cursing at himself for whatever reason. Often chastising himself for whatever mistake he has made or for showing somehow too much mercy when it wasn’t needed. A habit that followed him from his previous life that he could not get rid of even if he was aware of it.

As hard it is to get him drunk, once he get drunk he is emotional as well as very honest. Admitting to anything he wouldn’t while sober and being sorry with how he acts toward others. Merely wanting to protect himself from forming attachments and being hurt by said attachments. It is only during these moments he can recall memories of his past life before dissolving into tears again wanting another drink.

HISTORY

Crepus wasn’t born the only child of the Ragnvirdn. There was an elder son who would have taken over the Dawn Winery if it weren’t the eldest son’s weak health. In light of this it was Crepus, the youngest son, who had become the heir of the winery and one who held the alcohol industry in the palm of his hand.

As a child Crepus had grown with it being expected of him to take over the family business. He did not fault his elder brother for this responsibility being passed over to him. A young Crepus would rather have his brother concentrate on his health than on something that could further damage it. 

Over time his brother left the mansion and moved across Teyvet where the weather could improve his health, leaving him behind. Now Crepus was the only one who resided within the mansion with the maids, servants, and cooks. Along with some of the other staff members who helped maintained the grounds. His parents had gone along with his brother to look after him instead of allowing someone else to do so.

Crepus was hurt that his parents would choose to leave him behind for his brother, but he carried on with a smile while waving good bye to his parents and brother as they left in the early morning. Determined to make his parents proud in their decision of making him heir. He studied day and night while also aspiring to obtain a vision to further prove he was a good choice. That even if his brother did get better and they came back he would remain as the heir. 

Secretly, the reason Crepus aimed to obtain a vision was for self-validation. He feared he would be seen as someone one’s breathe could not be wasted on if he didn’t. It was also to serve as a source of motivation for him to join the Favonius Knights. He had always looked up to and admired the knights of Mondstadt since he could remember. They were the ideal image he wished to obtain. It was a dream of his. 

Despite the months and years that had gone by and eventually taking over the winery when he had come of age. Crepus had not obtained a vision nor did he not join the Favonius Knights because of it. He kept this sense of failure, the disappointment in himself and has not expressed it to anyone else. Wishing not to become a burden to anyone or the staff. He swallowed his hurt pride and moved on like it didn’t bother him when it really weighed him down. 

Crepus eventually found love and fell for adventurous young woman around his age by the name of Aurora. The woman was like magic lifting all the burden, self-doubt, and insecurities had about himself. She had immediately stolen his heart and given him a smile no one had ever seen give before. One full of happiness and confidence. It didn’t take long for the two to get married and the two spent their happily married life in bliss like nothing could stop the two. Many were glad to see the master of Dawn Winery smile. 

Eventually the happy couple was blessed a child of their own. A baby boy with a head full of red messy hair like his parents. The mother had named their son Diluc with a smile. The wet maid handed the baby Diluc to Crepus and the new father was filled with an unimaginable amount of joy while holding his son. Then there was pain when Diluc got a hold of his hair and pulled. He was soon handed over to his mother for feeding.

The Ragnvirdn family’s happiness did not last. Some months after Diluc’s birthday Aurora had suddenly come down with an illness that had her bed ridden. It was an illness no healer or doctor had seen before. Crepus was stricken with grief at this, afraid of his losing his light, his heart, his everything. One day a ‘traveling doctor’ had come by and shade some light on Aurora’s illness. It only crushed Crepus to learn of what it was and that there was no cure for it. 

Aurora tried her best to console her distraught husband. Telling him it was all right and they should make what they had left together the best they could while caressing his cheek. Crepus fought back his tears and tried to agree with even though he found it hard to. He swallowed the pain he felt at eventually losing his wife and tried to make her remaining days the best he could along with their son Diluc. 

A year after the family had received the news Aurora passed away in relative peace with a smile on her face. It took all he could muster to not fall apart when planning her funeral. Trying to put on a brave front for Diluc, so his young son would not worry about him. When the day of funeral came, the whole of Mondstadt was in attendance. Aurora was a person who left a big impression on each and everyone of its citizens. Somehow this was a comfort to him that many had comet to send her off. It did nothing to quell his shaking heart. 

“Father, why are they putting mother in the ground?” Diluc suddenly asked as the coffin had started it decent. “How will mother wake and hug me?” Diluc urgently tugged on his pant leg and when that didn’t work his small hand had reached up to pull on his hand. 

At that small touch all strength in Crepu’s legs went out as he dropped to his hugging his one and only child and cried. Finding the words to explain to his child that his mother would not be coming back. That he would no longer receive any of her hugs before he went to bed at night. 

It took months for Crepus to come to terms with Aurora’s passing. When she was buried his heart was buried along with her and he still grieved. He knew he couldn’t allow his grief to overshadow his care and rising of Diluc who looked very much like his mother that it hurt. The master of Dawn Winery finally decided he would raise his son to the best of his abilities while managing the business, so Aurora in the afterlife could smile proudly at him. That brought some comfort to his aching heart.

 Some years after her passing Crepus had finally come to peace with Aurora’s passing and stopped blaming himself for being unable to help her. During that time, he had begun to teach Diluc the family business. Well as much as he could teach an easily distracted child. It was around this time he had found a young boy in the middle of rainstorm shivering out in the cold thanks to the words of a passing stranger. 

After the storm had passed the next day Crepus learned that young mysterious boy’s name was Kaeya. Happy to have another child in house he formerly adopted the boy and affectionately raised him alongside Diluc. It wasn’t until then he learned the troubles of rising two rumbunctious boys. Though, it was mostly Kaeya who was the energetic one compared to Diluc. They were still a handful regardless. Still, he wondered where all his ties kept disappearing to. 

Diluc had received his vision at the young tender of age of twelve and Crepus couldn’t help but be the happiest for his son. Like himself Diluc wanted to join the Favionus Knights much to his father’s surprise. From there he began helping Diluc in his pursuits of accomplishing his dream. Though, he was quite unaware that his clever son had somehow found out about the unfulfilled dreams he had. Unaware that he had confessed to these dreams on the rare occasion that he had gotten drunk at home. To the point the butler had to carry back a sobbing Crepus to his room. 

The years past by in relative peace with Crepus rising his two boys encouraging and pushing them to do their best in whatever it was they pursued. Yet, whatever happiness Crepus had managed to obtain always ended in tragedy.

 “Sometimes, life can change in an instant.” Crepus had spoken these words, not at all expecting it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The day Diluc turned eighteen they were returning from Angel’s Share to the Dawn Winery. Crepus sat in the back of the wagon while looking at a box with a delusion resting inside that he had picked up somewhere several years past. 

A forlorn expression passed over his visage murmuring to himself that Diluc would not need this weapon. It was then their caravan was attacked by a fearsome monster that been terrorizing Mondstadt for so long. Ursa the Drake had attacked them quickly overpowering Diluc and injuring him. With some quick thinking Crepus had don the Delusion and fought the drake. 

As if to laugh in the face of the Favonius Knights whom denied his admittance and for the gods who shunned him defeated Ursa the drake with the Delusion. Though he had defeated the beast, it seemed Ursa still had a little strength left in him and aimed to kill Diluc. Seeing what the drake was about to do, without hesitation threw himself in-between Ursa and Diluc sacrificing himself as the power of the Delusion backfired on him. Mortally wounding him in the process. 

As Crepus laid dying in Diluc’s arms, strength slowly leaving him as his body started to disintegrate. With the pain wrecking his body and is unbearable for him to keep conscious. He raised a hand and tenderly laid it upon his son’s cheek despite the immense pain he felt. His lips moved to leave words for his son, but the words he spoke did not reach his ear. There was a sudden an unexpected sharp pain in his chest wine red eyes still looking at Diluc. A sad, but happy smile formed on his lips as his lips formed the words “Thank you…” before his body completely disintegrated leaving nothing behind.

  His soul did not reunite with his love Aurora in the afterlife. As a price for using the “Eye of the Demons” his soul was cast into the Abyss. Where his soul was cursed to wander for all eternity or until his soul disappeared. With time being nonexistent or ran differently of its own accord in the Abyss the soul of Crepus did not know how long he had been wandering. Despair and loneliness eventually started to consume his soul until a voice spoke out to him. 

The voice was sweet like honey and as intoxicating as the alcohol he once served at Angel’s Share. Promising him a second chance at life, a chance to see the family he had left behind after his death if he accepted its offer. The offer was too good to pass up or even think over. Crepus was desperate he wanted to see his family again. His soul was not able to reunite with his beloved Aurora and if he could be with his remaining family in the living, he would take it. He accepted the offer without question unaware of what the Abyss had in store for him. 

In the Abyss were time fluctuated and ran oddly, it took years for the Abyss to construct Crepus’ original, but new body. More so that it looked slightly older than when he originally died. When the time came for Crepus to return to his body, things had surprisingly gone smoothly. What he didn’t realize when accepting the deal with the Abyss without question the price he paid was the loss of his memories from his previous life. When he woke up in his, still in the abyss he couldn’t recall any of his previous memories nor who he was. He had become a blank slate.

With this the Abyss had made Crepus into its agent and gave him the name Umbra for his new identity. After putting Umbra through a hellish training regiment to ensure he would at least be difficult to defeat in battle. Umbra had pledged his undying loyalty to the Abyss grateful toward his savior for granting him a second chance of life. He would dare not betray the trust and mission that was bestowed upon him before leaving the Abyss.

  Now back in Teyvet, it has been some years since his original death and he filled with nostalgic looking upon Mondstadt. Yet, he does not the reason why he feel this way and quickly diminishes the unnecessary feeling before being on his way.

ABILITIES

INHUMAN STRENGTH. His strength can be described as being able to easily (and mostly accidentally) completely reshape or change the terrain he is in (it usually causes him major embarrassment). Most would choose to run from him in the middle of a fight if they value their lives more than a moment of glory. There have been times, that in a fit of rage he has demolished a mountain side especially when annoying Adventures or Mercenaries challenge him to fights and can’t take no for an answer. He would be able to hold his own against The Eleven. Though, tripping them as a form of holding one’s own is very questionable.

ABYSS IMMUNITY. With his body being created/reborn in the Abyss he has gain an immunity toward its impurity. He is able to freely go between Teyvet and the Abyss without suffering any negative draw back like he did in his previous life when he utilized the Delusion.

EYE OF DEMONS. Much like the Delusion with the very same name. He is able to create a myriad of chains covered in Abyss flames to ensnare, trap, or strangle his enemies. Though, he does at time use it for mundane things like climbing up cliffs and bridging gaps in-between cliffs. There was a time he used it for fishing… that provided interesting results to say the least. More times than not, he has used it to trip others.

ENHANCE SPEED. When not using Eye of Demons he will use a claymore. Due to his choice weapon most would assume his speed suffers due to wielding a heavy weapon. This proves to be false and he take advantage of people underestimating his speed. The weight of his weapon does not at all effect his speed as it proves to be the opposite. He is able to adjust his speed at any given moment and will use his claymore to give him better momentum.

MAGIC. He is only good at doing small complex spells and can’t do a simple spell like heat up water to save his life. Doing larger spells will always, if not usually, end with an explosion so he avoids them together. Though, he has proven to be a glutton for punishment at times because of this.

NOTES

Memories. Despite the Abyss making Crepus a blank slate when making him into Umbra. It did mess up in a way. Crepus can recall the memories of his prior life when and only if he completely drunk. A drunk Crepus is very emotional and honest and will admit to it. It hasn’t been figured out why this is the only time he can recall those memories at all. The following day he won’t remember a thing even when asked about it.

Tolerance to Alcohol. Like his previous life Crepus has an absurdly high tolerance to alcohol that it is very hard to get him drunk let alone shit faced. It will more than likely take three to four bottles of Snezhnaya’s specialty alcohol, Fire-Water. It has to be really strong alcohol for it to happen.

Abyss Order. Umbra is not at all found of this order and want nothing to do with it or the Prince(ss) who commands it. As both leave a disgusting flavor in his mouth that he does not like. The Abyss Order is very much aware of his existence and have relentless tried to get him to join their cause. They forget one thing. He does not have a hatred against humans. Which was something he didn’t get from the Abyss when he was reborn.

Soft Spot. Despite the doings of the Abyss Order he may or may not have a soft spot for the Prince(ss) that commands it. Perhaps seeing them as a child and may give them head pats if they encounter each other outside of the Prince(ss) respective duty. Though, it may stem from his subconscious remembering he had children before and see them as child and want to take care of them. The feeling get crushed as it make him feel awkward and a bit uncomfortable.

Purification. He has the biggest version to those who are able to purify Abyss energy and will avoid contact with them at all cost. It just set him on edge there are those who are able to do so. Due to this he cautious around said people. In the event where it inescapable of being around it easy to notice how fast he’ll be uncomfortable be with said person.

[ladykeane]

something angsty or hurt/comforty about bertie missing his parents and reg comforting him?

Filled below! (Will post this on AO3 at length, tonight its interface is being a butt)

I do feel justified in declaring Bertram to be a singularly courageous soul, despite the detractions of some of his peers. Not only because of the aid he provides to friends (and even strangers) in need, or his unswerving devotion to his beloved ‘Code of the Woosters’. Bertram is brave because he dares to be cheerful in a world that can be oppressively bleak.

This is precisely why I was so affected to come home one dark January day, to find him slumped on the carpet of our unlit sitting room, listening to an album of vintage novelty songs, and crying his poor dear eyes out.

My fiance, Bertram Wilberforce Wooster, has proven to be a constant source of inspiration. There has been many a grey weekday morning that I have dreaded the prospect of leaving our bed, to face the bustle of London and the onerous task of placating my legal clients, who can often be disagreeable and demanding. Bertram blesses me with his bright blue gaze and sweet rosy smile, and his natural buoyancy quickly uplifts me. I am able to approach the day in a lighter mood, and with a strengthened resolve. This is one of the many ways in which he makes me into a better version of myself. Despite our occasional squabbles and his sometimes imperfect domestic habits, I am elevated and improved by the love we share.

He has inspired me again in the writing of this prose. His blog is a source of entertainment for many, and I am proud of his accomplishment. This composition may prove much less whimsical, and will certainly not be fit for public consumption. I confess I lack Bertram’s bravery to share my innermost thoughts with the digital multitudes. 

And I do feel justified in declaring Bertram to be a singularly courageous soul, despite the detractions of some of his peers. Not only because of the aid he provides to friends (and even strangers) in need, or his unswerving devotion to his beloved ‘Code of the Woosters’. Bertram is brave because he dares to be cheerful in a world that can be oppressively bleak.

This is precisely why I was so affected to come home one dark January day, to find him slumped on the carpet of our unlit sitting room, listening to an album of vintage novelty songs, and crying his poor dear eyes out.

Bertram always takes to the festivities around Christmas and New Years’ with an almost manic enthusiasm. This is unsurprising, but in the years we have celebrated the yuletide together, I have often detected a vague sort of wistfulness arise in him. Even this Christmas just past, which was exalted by his marriage proposal to me, saw him a tad doleful during quieter moments.

I have often suspected the reason for this anomaly in his character. I have never dared to interrogate him about it, lest I worsen the wound.However, seeing my songbird in such keen despair finally spurred me to address the matter.

I sat down beside him, my actions slow, so as not to startle him. He did not flinch as I carefully wrapped my arms about his wilted frame. He buried his wet face in my collar, and I stroked his back gently as he heaved with sobs. His misery flooded its way into me, and I burned with it. My hand found its way into his soft curls, cradling his precious head.

I listened to the music playing. A jazz band tootled away, over which a pleasant light baritone crooned:

‘Everybody loves my baby

But my baby don't love nobody but me

Yes, everybody wants my baby

but my baby don't want nobody but me

that's plain to see!...’

It was not hard to discern that the voice belonged to Bertram’s late father.The song eventually came to an end with a blare of horns, and the vinyl crackled and fell silent.

Bertram rose, tearing away from my embrace. ‘Ah. Awfully sorry about that, Reg,’ he said shakily, and flicked on the light. His eyes were painfully red and puffy. His sorrow was not disguised by the hardy little smile he managed for me.

He began striding towards the kitchen, ostensibly to start dinner or put on the kettle. I could see him struggling to conjure his prized stiff upper lip. I was stung; I did not want my future husband to believe that he required such a mask in my presence.

‘Bertram… you have no need to apologise to me. It is alright to feel what you feel.’He stopped in the doorway, and slackened a little. ‘I suppose. It’s just… this time of year, you know. Makes it harder not to miss them.’

I arose to meet him, my hand caressing his shoulder once more. ‘Please allow me. Darjeeling, my angel?’

***

We agreed upon a dinner of take-away, and afterwards enjoyed a drowsy snuggle on the sofa. It grew late; Bertram went to change into his pajamas, and I began clearing up the sitting room, quite unhurried. 

The novelty jazz album still sat upon the turntable, and I reverently slid it back into its sleeve. The cover gave me pause, the bright blue gaze of the late Mr Wooster was unmistakable. I know the man had been a music teacher at Dulwich College in life, and an accomplished musician like his son. According to the accounts of his sister Mrs Travers, he had also the same sunny, kind-hearted temperament.

‘It was thirteen years, today, don’t you know. An icy road and a drunk driver. I’ve never even visited their graves, if you can believe it. Just couldn’t bring myself.’

He stood in the bedroom doorway, a look of glass on his face. ‘The last day I ever spent with them was New Years’. Got packed off back to Eton, after that. You know the last thing I ever said to my mother? “Don’t forget to send on my iPod.” Over the phone. I still kick myself for that.’We locked eyes. ‘One of the biggest regrets is that they’ll never get to meet you, Reg…’

He began to crumble again, and I rushed to his arms. I imagined my love, a stricken adolescent boy, being delivered the news by a laconic house master. Being dragged home for a dual funeral, being shunted about by busy relatives lost in their own grief. That monstrous Mrs Gregson chiding him for his unmanly snivelling, and even the sympathetic Mrs Travers encouraging him to bear up and stay strong. How often had that boy ever had a chance to properly grieve for himself?

Framing the distraught, beautiful tear-strewn face between my hands, I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.As a solicitor, I well know that advisory words seldom assist in mitigating such clean, sharp-edged mourning. I have often tasked my clients to report upon some of their greatest personal traumas: divorce, bereavement, the falling out of relationships. When lost in the midst of their pain, I cannot reach them with talk of practical solutions. All I could do now was hold my Bertram, and ride out the tempest with him.

At length his crying abated, and I was able to draw him into bed. I encased him in my arms and he buried himself in my chest. Gradually our pulses fell into rhythm, and Morpheus mercifully numbed us both.

When I awoke the next morning, I was met with a bright blue gaze, and a rosy, if slightly muted, sweet smile.‘What sort of day is it, Reg?’I checked the forecast on my phone. ‘Clear and sunny, with a projected top of 14 degrees, and a light breeze to the South-West.’‘I say, that’s jolly good weather for this time of year.’‘Positively clement, Bertram.’‘What do you say we traipse down to Dulwich Park today? Grab a spot of lunch?’

I examined him. That park had been the place of his childhood gambols, a place he had not visited since his parents had died.‘Do you feel up to it?’ I asked delicately. 

He huffed into the pillowcase. ‘Well… it’s been such a long time, and it really is a nice little spot, packed with joyful memories… I should love to show you the old oak that I always loved to climb. One time I dragged Angela up there too. She nearly screamed my ear off that it was too high, until I pointed out that you could just glimpse Tower Bridge from the highest branch. Then there’s the little copse by the West Lawn, where Father and I once had a run-in with a miniature grizzly hedgehog. Spunky little thing, he was…’

It stayed sunny for the entire day.

[mobius-prime]

206. Sonic the Hedgehog #138

Return to Angel Island (Part 1): The Message

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Jon Gray Colors: Jason Jensen

We're in for a big one, guys! This is another four-parter, and it's time to finally find out what's going on on Angel Island! But first, Sally and Sonic have to deal with the blowback from the king about their little Tommy mission. King Max chews them out for a while, with Sally tersely accepting the scolding, but Sonic actually attempts to cover for Sally by lying (badly) that she only came along because he kidnapped her. Of course, the king doesn't believe him, and after coldly calling into question Sally's ability to rule in his stead when they leave on their tour, he sends them off.

Yikes. Seems things are going to stay frosty between these two for a while. That afternoon, the king and queen, along with Uncle Chuck as their advisor and Antoine as their bodyguard, depart for their world tour. Shortly thereafter, everyone is hanging out in Chuck's diner, which is currently being manned by Jules and Bernie, while Sonic confides in Knuckles and Julie-Su about his troubles with Sally. Julie-Su points out that Sally's feelings are understandable to a degree, as she herself struggled for a long time after Knuckles' return from the grave with feeling comfortable about him going back into battle. The conversation is interrupted by a sudden crash at the door, and everyone is shocked to see a badly injured Charmy and Saffron enter the establishment and immediately collapse. They're immediately taken to receive medical attention, and after that Sally questions the two on what exactly happened. Charmy and Saffron relate, stricken by grief, how Eggman attacked their home at the Goldenhive Colony, and try as they might, they failed to save anyone - and they mean literally anyone. Their parents, all their friends, every single other member of the colony is dead now. I have to say, while this is certainly an… effective way of kicking to the curb Kenders' weird plans to shunt Charmy away from the spotlight, it's also an incredibly brutal way. I mean, how many others here have lost literally everyone they care about? Oh, wait, Knuckles is getting there! Fittingly, at that exact moment a transmission comes through on the Technolo-Tree, but the only thing that can be made out through the static is that Locke is apparently being held prisoner on Angel Island. And at that moment, Knuckles' patience, so carefully maintained just a couple issues ago, finally snaps.

Sally, you have to remember that it's been almost an entire year that he's been off his island, and he knows he still has friends and family stuck there, with Eggman doing who knows what to them. Can you blame him for wanting to rescue literally the only home he's ever known from Eggman's brutal occupation? Sonic sheepishly leaves with Knuckles, and together they, Julie-Su, the Chaotix (back together again! Also this time including Ray, who's been severely sidelined for quite some time now, and Saffron), and Bunnie all pile into the FFS and fly to Angel Island. Bunnie remains behind at Sonic's request, since he wants to make sure Sally still has a heavy hitter watching over Knothole while they're gone, and everyone else airdrops in, landing in the Marble Garden Zone. Sonic races away to do some split-second recon, and comes back with some pretty horrendous news - there's an honest-to-god prison camp not far from there location, sponsored by Eggman, run by dingoes, and filled with enslaved echidnas being worked half to death by their captors. So, naturally, the intrepid infiltrators race directly in and start causing some havoc.

Okay, this is something I've danced around for quite a while now, but… I really don’t like the portrayal of the dingoes as this weird military hive mind. Penders very obviously based them off of Nazi Germany in many ways (like… as we saw before in KtE#22, his hints toward this weren't subtle at all), and I believe he's even said that he deliberately only ever showed male dingoes, avoiding portraying women and children among their ranks, so they didn’t appear too sympathetic. Quite aside from the fact that that's a kind of ridiculous and sexist position to take especially given that one of the comic's current most threatening villains is in fact female, this just turns the dingoes into cardboard cutouts of villains instead of an interesting opposing faction in this world's political landscape. I mean, how much more interesting would they be if the story bothered to humanize them, make them relatable? But of course, that would mean that Penders would have to portray his precious echidna society as less than honorable for discriminating against them, and we can't have that, so instead they're all just military hardasses who love xenophobia and hate democracy. Hell, even the actual Nazis had more depth to their evil actions than the dingoes. And, to be fair, I know that this arc is written by Karl, not Penders, but he's just building on everything that Penders has established here, so I'm still putting the blame on Penders.

Anyway, the heroes make quick work of the dingoes stationed in the camp, though Knuckles takes a bad blow that Sonic has to save him from due to his lack of powers. Knuckles begins to protest at being helped, but he's suddenly drowned out by chanting… from the echidna slaves they've just freed. They're all bowing down to him and calling him the Avatar, hailing his return. A flabbergasted Knuckles spots Remington among the crowd and asks him what the hell is going on, and Remington explains that there's been a bit of a, eh, religious revival shall we say, among the echidnas on the island ever since he returned from the dead. Apparently, there's an old prophecy from the Ancient Walkers stating that someone will come back from the dead and deliver everyone on the island from their suffering, and, well, Knuckles fits the first part of that criteria. However, he'd barely come back from the dead before Eggman made his move on the island a year ago, preventing Knuckles from returning until now.

So things have kind of deteriorated to a severe degree in Knuckles' absence. Echidnaopolis is now Dingo City, and the dingoes are led not by General Stryker, who is conspicuously absent, but instead General Kage, a cyborg underling of Eggman's in charge of finding the Master Emerald somewhere on the island. Of course that's what Eggman is really after here, and they've captured Locke with the intention of getting the location from him one way or the other. He's been chained upside down in some dark room, and Kage has been torturing him nonstop for the past few days trying to get him to crack, to no avail. Eggman merely encourages Kage over video call to keep it up, while we transition to the Lava Reef Zone, which is where Knuckles has led all the rescued echidnas to, away from the prison camp. He's here because this is approximately where the message informing him of his father's capture originated from, but suddenly the group finds themselves surrounded by smoke, and out of the smoke steps an army of Dark Legion soldiers, surrounding them with weapons drawn…

Mobius 25 Years Later: My Dinner with Sonic

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

…but who cares about all that interesting plot stuff when we can watch some forty-something moms chat next to a pool where their annoying kids and husbands are playing? Apparently, despite their husbands' rivalry, Julie-Su and Sally have actually become pretty good friends over the years, and lament that they barely get together anymore because of Knuckles and Sonic's hatred of one another. Sally is upset because of how distant Sonic has been acting lately - according to her, he barely talks to anyone he doesn't have to anymore, including Tails, whom he hasn’t spoken to in three whole years now! Excuse me, what?! Okay, Sonic and Knuckles at least have some precedent for their rivalry, however weak that precedent is, but I cannot even begin to imagine a world where Sonic just straight up ghosts his best friend for apparently no reason. Literally, no reason is given! He just doesn't like Tails anymore now! Also, in this timeline, Tails is married to Mina and he's moved to Downunda, because why the hell not? Who needs to make sense or give reasons for anything in their plot? Oh, but that's not all! If you thought that was the extent of Sonic's incredibly out-of-character writing, you thought wrong!

That's right - Sonic the forty-one-year-old father, war hero, and king of an entire nation is apparently so petty about not being able to hit a volleyball in the pool that he thinks it's acceptable to shove his own young son under the water so he can get to the ball instead. And this isn't just some case of me taking these panels out of context - on the very next page Manik rightfully calls him out on this, only for Sonic to irritably say that Manik has been "getting in his face all afternoon" and that this was the only way he could get to play with the ball. And then, just as if to rub this in our horrified faces, Knuckles also comes over and points out how terrible of an action this is, and when Manik speaks up SONIC FORCES HIM UNDER THE WATER AGAIN TO GET HIM TO STOP TALKING. I just… I cannot even begin to express how bad this is. This is literally the opposite of Sonic the Hedgehog. You cannot get further off the mark than Penders just has right here. Everything about Sonic's characterization in this arc is bad and inaccurate to who he really is, but this interaction right here is the cake topper, the prime example of just how much Penders does not understand the characters he is trying to write. I can pinpoint this as the exact moment I lost all remaining respect for Penders as a writer. I've defended him before, and I stand by my opinions that I do enjoy many of his earlier stories for the comic, but this is a goddamn travesty. Penders. Needs. To. Stop.

*sigh* We have to finish today's issue, so let's… let's just get to the end. Everyone goes inside for dinner, with Sonia and Manik heading out to play with Lara-Su while the adults have dinner together, because apparently they're so stuffy they don't even let their own kids eat with them. Knuckles and Sonic start arguing at the table, big shocker there, while Abby desperately tries to serve them dessert and their boring wives try to rein them in.

Are we gonna hear anything about what the "drone problem" or the "Overlander uprising" entailed? Those sound too interesting, so NOPE! Instead, the kids walk by and overhear the argument and promise each other they'll never fight like their parents do, while Manik tries to put the moves on Lara-Su, who is not having it. The argument ends when both Knuckles and Sonic belch simultaneously while their wives scold them disapprovingly - I think Penders is trying to go for a comedy movie sketch type thing here where classical music ramps up in hilarious intensity behind the bickering over the family dinner before everything ends on a few sharp notes from the string section, but it just comes off as utterly cringeworthy. Knuckles finally - finally! - manages to get to the point of this entire arc, which is to tell Sonic about how the world is ending. Yes, it took this long for him to tell the main character of this goddamn comic about the main conflict of this goddamn arc. Kill me. Someone please kill me.

…are you kidding me?! You mean all this time we could have been exploring the ramifications of a planetwide environmental disaster caused by dimensional travel, and the possibility of having to evacuate the planet's population into space, and instead we got to watch two boring husbands belch at each other over goddamn dinner?! I'm done. I'm so done. Everything about this sucks and I hate it. Ken Penders, if I ever see you in person, I will be throwing these hands.

[welcometothenewtime]

The 4 best action movies streaming on Hulu

Nothing turns a boring movie night into an exciting one quite like a quality action movie.

While many turn to Hulu to binge-watch their favorite TV shows, some often forget that the popular streaming service has an impressive collection of movies in its library. Among that collection are some of the most exciting, violent and heartfelt action movies in the genre.

Whether you’re a fan of science fiction, history or modern tales of revenge, Hulu has a little something for everyone trying to satisfy their need to watch some good-old-fashioned action cinema from the comfort of their homes.

ARE PREGNANT WOMEN AT RISK FOR CORONAVIRUS?

To help you plan the next movie night that’ll leave you diving for cover behind your couch, below is a rundown of the top 5 action films currently streaming on Hulu:

'The Book Of Eli'

Denzel Washington stars in the post-apocalyptic western, 'The Book of Eli.' (Warner Bros.)

This 2010 movie is perfect for anyone looking for a good post-apocalyptic western with all the action and violence anyone can handle. Starring well-known actors such as Denzel Washington, Mila Kunis and Gary Oldman, “The Book Of Eli” plays like a slower, more grounded “Mad Max.”

The film focuses on the tireless mission of a man named Eli who is trekking on foot across the wasteland that used to be the United States 30 years after a nuclear apocalypse. He proves adept at both survival and single-handedly taking on large swaths of desperate marauders. When he reaches a town ruled by a man named Carnegie that’s obsessed with getting his hands on a specific book, Eli worries that it’s the same book he’s been tasked with delivering to the west coast at all costs.

CORONAVIRUS: HOW ARE DIFFERENT COUNTRIES RESPONDING TO THE OUTBREAK?

What follows is an adventure that sees Eli attempt to fend off Carnegie’s numerous attempts to steal his precious book as he continues his nearly impossible quest west.

'The Patriot'

Mel Gibson stars in the Oscar-nominated movie 'The Patriot.' (Sony Pictures)

Mel Gibson stars in this Oscar-nominated 2000 historical fiction movie set during the American Revolution. While Gibson is by far the star of the movie, it can also boast stellar performances from co-stars Heath Ledger, Jason Isaacs, Donal Logue and many more.

The film tells the story of Capt. Benjamin Martin, a veteran of the French and Indian War who initially refuses to join his fellow South Carolina residents in rising up against British rule for fear of another bloody war. However, when his eldest son joins the Continental Army and inadvertently brings the fight to his family’s home, Martin is forced back into combat to try and free his home from the tyrannical British rule. Specifically, from Col. William Tavington of the British Army, who, without spoiling anything, is particularly nasty to the Martin household.

ARE PACKAGES FROM CORONAVIRUS-HIT CHINA SAFE TO HANDLE?

While the film is only loosely based on historical events, it does a wonderful job of tracking the American Revolution from the beginning until the bitter end while telling the emotional story of a man desperate to be free of conflict.

'Death Wish'

Bruce Willis stars in the remake of 'Death Wish.' (MGM)

Not to be confused with the original 1974 film starring Charles Bronson, the 2018 remake of “Death Wish” starring Bruce Willis is a modern take on a classic story of revenge and vigilantism that’s sure to satisfy your quest for good action content.

The film follows Paul Kersey, a surgeon living in Chicago that tragically loses his wife during a home invasion from criminals that also leaves his daughter in a coma. Grief-stricken, Paul tries his best to get the police to solve the case, but their progress is far too slow for him. He eventually steals a gun and begins taking to the streets and dishing out his own brand of vigilante justice.

HOW DANGEROUS IS CORONAVIRUS?

The movie is a classic revenge tale that follows the original movie somewhat accurately but definitely takes turns in its own direction to modernize the story.

'Mission Impossible: Fallout'

Tom Cruise stars in the sixth installment in the 'Mission Impossible' franchise, 'Fallout.' (Chiabella James/Paramount Pictures and Skydance via AP)

In a perfect example of Hulu offering more film content than people realize, the 2018 blockbuster, and the sixth installment in the franchise, “Mission Impossible: Fallout” is available to stream on the popular platform.

For those unfamiliar, the movies deal with the Impossible Missions Force (IMF) and its top operative, Ethan Hunt, played by Tom Cruise. For years the super-spy organization has thwarted various apocalyptic threats across the globe, and the sixth movie is no exception.

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When a terrorist group that Hunt and his cohorts previously dealt with regroup and try to obtain nuclear arms, Hunt and his team fail in their initial attempts to stop them. That’s when a new agent is brought into the team that has very little tolerance or respect for the way the legendary agent and his team typically operate. As the plot thickens, Hunt’s list of allies dwindles as it becomes clear that the terrorists did more than regroup, they infiltrated some of the highest organizations in the world.

[deans-baby-momma]

The Padackles Link-Chapter 53

A/N: Having to post from my phone because my laptop is froze so if this look weird, I'm sorry. I don't even know if the tags will work. ************************************* AUSTIN The warm water cascading down my face masks the tears as they escape my eyes. In the sanctuary of the bathroom, I could let all my insecurities and fear free. What had happened? Where had everything gone so wrong? I was at a complete loss. As I shampooed my hair I tried to think over the events of the day before. Yes I had been worried about showing up to JJ’s party, even after Jensen’s reassurances that I had nothing to worry about. He had even promised to leave early if I had felt unwelcome or out of place. None of those had happened though. The only discomfort was when Josh had shown up. Neither Jensen nor I had any inclination that Dani had began dating anyone, least of all, the doctor who delivered their daughter. After rinsing off, I turned the water off and stepped out into the bathroom. The sink still had his bottle of aftershave and cologne sitting to the side, his razor still thrown haphazardly into its container. All evidence that Jensen hadn’t packed everything. Maybe he was planning on returning to retrieve them later? I wrap my hair up in the towel and step to the sink. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I look at my reflection. The face looking back at me is one I don’t recognize. My face is red and puffy; my eyes are swollen from crying, I’m sure and they just look devoid and bereft. There is no light in them; no life. I compare the woman looking back at me to the girl who, just a few years ago, had lost the love of her life and became a widow. The woman staring back at me is more disconsolate than that girl was. Shaking my head, I turn and get dressed to go check on my son. He was who I needed to worry about. He needed me, even if Jensen didn’t. Jackson was a helpless baby who needed a mother who could care for him, not a grief-stricken shell. Jackson and I head to the park to meet the Padalecki’s. I am looking forward to having some adult conversation and interactions, not a one-sided communication with an infant. Parking near the entrance, I grab the diaper bag and my purse from the front seat and exit the vehicle. Walking around to the other side, I grab for the handle to pull Jackson from his carseat when I hear my name being called. I look up to see Jared heading my way, a smile on his face. “Hey Jared,” I say as he approaches. “Glad you could make it. How’s little man?” Jared asks looking into the window at my little boy. “He’s fine. Just woke up from a nap not too long ago so he should enjoy this outing.” “How are you doing?” Jared inquired, his voice changing from the cheerful tone to a more somber one. I smile at the compassion and tenderness I hear in his words. He might be Jensen's co-star, best friend and pseudo-brother but if it hadn't been for Jared Padalecki, Jensen and I may not have survived the loss of one of our twins. I wonder now if his support and encouragement had been for naught. If Jensen and I were over and done, would I still be able to call the Padaleckis my friends? Jared helps me pull Jackson from the car and offers to carry the carseat over to where Gen is sitting on a bench in the shade. As we reach her, I notice a small smile on her face as she watches Jared and I interact. I can see that she is contemplating something but can’t for the life of me figure out what is going on in her head. I shake those thoughts away as I sit on the bench between them and watch as the Padalecki boys run and play on the playground, hoping that in a year or so, my son will be able to join and befriend them. DALLAS After changing out of his pajamas and brushing his teeth, Jensen strolled into the one room he knew he could find his mother, the kitchen. Donna Ackles loved to cook and bake and was always tinkering away, making some type of food in the kitchen. Jensen grabbed an empty mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup of the black brew. “Good morning Jensen,” Donna said, not even looking up from whatever she was stirring on the stove. “Are you ready to tell me why you showed up last night? And don’t even tell me you missed us. We had just seen you at the party.” Jensen cringed. He knew his mom was correct. He couldn’t use the excuse that he had thought of because it had only been about five hours before he showed up that they were all together, celebrating his daughter’s birthday. After taking a sip of his coffee, Jensen sit the cup down and leaned his elbows onto the counter. “I just needed some space. Get my head on right.” “About what?” Donna inquired, curious as to what had her son so unsettled. She set the burner on low and turned to look at him. “Yesterday. The party. Danneel flaunting Josh…” “And you’re upset about that?” Donna asked confused. She knew Jensen was upset and hurt when he found out about his ex’s affair but she also knew he had moved on with Drea. Had had a son with the girl, so why did it bother him that Dani had also moved on. “You’re with Drea now. You two have a son. Do you expect Dani to just sit at home in that big house and raise your daughter? That she is not meant to meet someone new for herself?” Jensen looked at his mom, stunned. That wasn’t what this was about whatsoever. He didn’t care that Danneel had found someone new. It wasn’t his place to tell her when she could begin dating again. No, this was more about WHO she chose to date. Jensen proceeded to tell his mother this. “It’s not that she is dating again. I don’t care about that,” he said. “Just...it’s who she is seeing. Josh is the doctor who delivered JJ and conned Drea into dating in order to get the results of the paternity test. Danneel will always have a special place in my heart. She is the mother of my first born, my little girl. And I wish no harm or ill will toward her. I want her to be happy. But I feel as though she is trying to take a jab at Drea by dating her ex.” Jensen ran his hand down his face, relieved to get that off his chest. “What do you mean, ‘conned Drea into dating him’?” “He agreed to do the paternity test only if Drea went out with him. And she agreed. They went out for several months then suddenly he dumps her because she didn’t feel the same as he did.” Donna nods in understanding but then abruptly and tilted her head to the side. “So? People break up all the time. What’s the big deal?” “The big deal? The big deal is after everything Drea has been through in her life, she just shrugged off the fact that the person who unceremoniously ditched her was right there in her face.” “Okay whoa,” Donna said, putting her hand on Jensen’s. “Back up. What are you talking about? What is Drea’s story?” Jensen explained to his mom about Drea’s mother being diagnosed with cancer and passing away when Drea was a teenager and how she had been put into a group home; how she met and fell in love with Chad in that home and after they both aged out of the system, they were married and were beginning to start a life together when it all abruptly came to an end after Chad was killed. By the time Jensen was finished, both mother and son had tears running down their cheeks. Donna grabs them both a napkin and wipes her face before she confronts him. “Jensen Ross Ackles! Are you that naive? I know I raised you to be smarter than this.” Jensen looks at his mom, frozen. “What?” “Drea wasn’t upset about Josh being there, with Dani because she never cared for him. Sure they dated but for her that is all it was. She wasn’t ready to let go of her husband and move on, not with the doctor anyway.” Jensen looked down at the table and let his mom’s words run through his mind. Was his mom right? Had Drea not been ready to move on when she dated Josh? Jensen thought back over what Drea had told him about her relationship with the doctor. She had only agreed to go out with him to help Dani keep her infidelity a secret, to help his ex get the results of the paternity test that she had needed. Donna groaned and sighed. “My god. I can’t imagine what is going through her head. What do you think this looks like to her? You see your ex with someone else and you pack up and leave. She is probably thinking you are upset that Dani is moving on. Good lord, Jensen. You’ve really screwed the pooch on this one.” “No, Drea knows I love her. She knows….” but as Jensen goes to tell his mom that Drea knew why he left, he realizes the fact that he never did tell her what was bothering him. Drea had left him alone after he blew up and threw the glass against the wall. Jensen jumps up so fast, the chair he was sitting in rocked backwards and almost falls over. He sits his almost empty cup in the sink and kisses his mom’s cheek. “Thanks Ma.” Donna shakes her head as she watches her son rush out of the room. She grabs her phone from the counter and opens a new text message. To: Drea My son may be an idiot and does things without thinking but he loves you and that little boy immensely. Give him time and he’ll come around. Jensen throws his bags into the backseat of his truck and hops into the driver’s seat. “Please for the love of god, don’t let me be too late. Let me be able to fix this. I can’t lose her!” he chants out loud as he pulls out of his parents’ driveway and heads back toward Austin. Pulling into the garage, Jensen immediately notices Drea’s car isn’t parked in the usual spot. He looks into the rearview mirror to check the street as he cuts off the engine. Opening the door, his heart drops when he realizes Drea might have packed and left him. Took their son and abandoned the home they had built. He ran to Jackson bedroom and was relieved to see that the crib and bassinet and all the furniture was unmoved and the clothes were still folded in drawers and hanging in the closet. Jensen walks to their bedroom and is once again relieved to see the bed unmade and all of Drea’s belongings in their places. Maybe she just ran to the store, he thinks to himself and heads back to the kitchen to get something to drink and wait on her to return. He is more than ready to beg and plead for forgiveness. He will get down on his knees if he has to. Anything not to lose her and Jackson over his stupidity. AUSTIN Thomas Padalecki is one tenacious little boy. Nothing would make him happy until he was able to push Jackson in a swing. So I held my son on my lap in the wooden swing while Thomas pushed with all his little might. I snuck and helped him move us by pushing my toes into the sand underneath the play area. Jackson cooed and laughed, which in turn made Thomas feel as if he was doing an excellent job. I hear my phone begin ringing in the diaper bag so I stop the swing and hoist Jackson onto my hip. By the time I get to where my bag is sitting, Gen has pulled the phone out and is handing it to me. "It's Jensen." I roll my eyes as I hand Jackson over to her. Taking the phone, I answer the call and walk away from the bench for privacy. "Hello?" "Hey. Where are you? I came home to an empty house." Oh, so he does care! How thoughtful. "I'm out with Gen and Jared. I'll be back in a couple of hours." "Drea, I'm s--" he begins but I don't want to hear it so I interrupt. "Jay, save it. I said I'd be home in a couple of hours. Just don't disappear again, okay? We have a lot to discuss and I'd rather do it face to face." "I'll be here," he says and I can hear the apprehension and panic in his voice. "I love you." "Yea, love you too," I say and hang up. Turning back to the bench I can see Gen keeping Jackson entertained but trying to eavesdrop too. I know she isn't doing it to be nosy or intrusive, she actually cares about this situation. Our conversation last night proved just that. *FLASHBACK (the night before)* "I'm so confused, " I tell Gen. "I thought we were doing okay. Not even an actual argument about anything. We got along perfectly. Almost too perfect, ya know?" "What do you mean?" Gen had asked me, puzzled. "There are no perfect relationships, Gen. You know that. I mean, I'm sure you and Jared have had your share of disagreements." She nodded her agreement. "Jay and I...this is our first. We haven't argued since we've been together. Everything was just….too impeccable. I really should have seen this coming." I run my hand through my hair and sigh. "Do you know how we met?" "You were stranded on the side of the road with a flat and they stopped to help," Gen confirmed. "Yea, and if it hadn't been for the spare being flat I wouldn't've needed any help. Gen, until I met Jensen I was a strong independent woman who could take care of herself. I have no idea when that changed!" Gen placed her hand on top of mine on the table. "Drea, you are still a strong, independent woman. I have never heard you complain once about anything. From months of being alone while the guys are up in Vancouver filming to giving birth with no one there to support you! I don't know if I could have done that." "I had no control over that," I told her. "Jackson wasn't going to wait for his father to make the 6 hour flight." "See strong," Gen smiled. "You just took what was given to you in stride. You're my hero." "And you're full of it," I laugh. "But I am glad you are my friend. I've never really had a friend. Most of the kids in the group home were all snobs and only look out for themselves. 'Cept Chad. We both needed a friend and that's how we bonded." "I'm glad we are friends too, Drea. I care highly for you, kid. Jared and I both do." "Thanks Gen." After our heart to heart, Gen and I had decided to go to bed and sleep away this horrible day. *END FLASHBACK* After leaving the park, I took my time driving back to the house. I knew what needed to happen and what needed to be said but I was dreading it. Dreading the fight for what I wanted, the fight for what I needed. For myself and for my son. Pulling into the garage and seeing Jensen's truck parked in its usual spot caused the pit in my stomach to grow. Here goes nothing, I thought as I climbed out of the car and went to get Jackson out. Jensen doted on his son from the moment I sat the carseat on the counter. He unbuckled Jackson and pulled his from the restraints, kissing on him and telling his son how much he was missed. I sit the diaper bag beside the now empty seat and walked to the bedroom. I needed a few minutes and Jensen needed to spend time with Jackson; to realize what he was losing. I don't know how much time passed before Jensen joined me in the bedroom. "He was worn out. Went to sleep with no problems," Jensen told me as he approached me. He bent to kiss me but I stepped away. "Jay, we need to talk." ************************************* Tags: @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @carryonmywaywardcaptain @darlingpeanut @sunskittlex @sis-tafics @wayward-gypsy @sea040561 @pretty-fortune @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc27 @natura1phenomenon @mannls @nickie-amore @spn-tw-37 @frozenhuntress67 @blacktithe7 @supernaturallymarvellous @thetardishasaquidditchpitch @sirod-30 @heyitscam99 @smoothdogsgirl @i-just-wanna-run-hell @paintballkid711 @closetspngirl @starfirerules @vickiq9761 @rainflowermoon @spnbaby-67 @flamencodiva @tiffany-leigh @drakelover78 @jessieray98 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @topthis808

[folklorestorytime]

Jesus Laughs in the Face of Death

After Jesus was crucified, he was buried in a tomb by Joseph of Arimathea before rising from the dead on the third day – we all know this. However, what most of you might not know is that the Book of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ by St. Bartholomew the Apostle (one of the Christian Apocrypha) contains a bizarre and undeniably epic story about the events that took place in the afterlife in the two days during which the Son of God was dead. This is the story of how Jesus fought with Death and his six serpent sons, destroyed the Original Sin and unleashed unspeakable tortures upon Judas Iscariot. Suffice to say, none of this is Biblical canon unfortunately. It’s just a really bizarre theological footnote of Bible fanfiction. Before we begin, I would like to briefly rant about someone named Apa Anania. According to the Apocrypha in question, he was a holy man who was taken up into Heaven with Jesus when he ascended on the third day. This character wasn’t referred to in any previous writings and was never mentioned after he was taken up into Heaven. Basically, we have no idea who Anania was – but apparently, he was important enough to be taken up with Jesus. Right, okay so now that I’ve finished bitching about forgotten characters in Christian theology – lets get on with the story. Are you sitting comfortably?

Joseph of Arimathea, stricken with grief, laid the body of the Messiah in His rocky tomb – but while this was going on in the mortal world, Death was visiting Amente (the Coptic equivalent of Purgatory) to inquire as to what had happened to the soul of Christ. He had apparently been searching for said soul for two days and was greatly troubled by his inability to find it. There had been unheard-of trouble when Christ’s soul left his body after the crucifixion, and Death felt that he had to find the errant soul presumably so that it couldn’t cause any more commotion. He called his various companions to him and commanded them to go and visit Christ’s tomb in the hope that His soul might have concealed itself close to his body. Among his companions were his six sons – Gaios, Tryphon, Ophiath, Phthinon, Sotomis and Komphion, left Amente and went to the tomb. However, this deathly entourage was shocked to find that the tomb was now marked with the ‘light of life’ when they visited it. They all sat down behind the tomb and took counsel as to how they should proceed. Eventually Death’s six children concluded that they would wait with the body to hopefully track the Lord’s soul when it went down into Amente so that they could see how he acted when faced with the afterlife. They assumed the forms of serpents and slithered into the tomb – and were immediately confronted with the sight of Jesus’s body lying there in the back of the tomb, with one cloth around his head and another around his face.

Meanwhile, Death was talking to an ominously named figure known as the Pestilence Fiend, who apparently had an overseeing role in the affairs of Amente. Death asked the Fiend if the soul of Christ had been registered as having arrived in Amente, and described to said Fiend the causation for his great concern over the whereabouts of this most powerful of souls. When Christ had died, the pillars of Heaven had trembled, Amente had rocked and quaked, the air was whipped up into a state of disturbance, and the cycles of day and night and the orders of the hours had been thrown into chaos. The fires of Hell had been extinguished and Gehenna (the location according to the Hebrew Bible where the Kings of Judah had sacrificed their children by fire) had gone cold. The gates of Hell had been battered open and their guards had fled, leaving the innumerable servants and ministers and envoys of the damned with nothing to do. The fallen angels had all been scattered and Death’s power had apparently passed into new hands after he himself was destroyed by the power of Christ.

And so, Death was now back with his six sons in the tomb of Jesus. He nervously approached the body of the Saviour and admitted to him (who was still choosing to appear in the form of His dead body) that he had been deeply disturbed by what had happened after his death. While he was saying this, Jesus promptly removed the cloths from his face and looked straight at Death before laughing at him. Utterly terrified, Death ran from the chamber and fell to the ground with his six serpentine sons.

Eventually he regained his senses and got up, once again making his way towards Christ while literally shaking with fear. Jesus once again laughed at him, but this time Death was able to muster the courage to stay and stand before the Son of God. He repeated the question he had previously asked – ‘Who art thou?’ – and judging from the description of the events he once again got no answer. He was left there alone in the tomb to contemplate the situation, eventually coming to the realisation that he might be in the presence of the ‘Good God, Merciful and Compassionate’. However, he still refused to believe that Christ was not obliged to answer him. He stood his ground and started to speak.

Who art thou that laughest? I ask, I speak. Tell me, why dost thou refuse to answer? Thou humblest me, thou makest a mock of me. I will never leave thee, but will cleave unto thee until thou showest me who thou art. I am all-powerful, my power is invincible, thou canst not deceive me.

It seemed that Death did not realise that he was talking to the Lord of All, and in what can only be described as a cosmically epic power move, Jesus went up into Heaven and fetched an army of all the different classes in the hierarchy of angels. The Angels, Archangels, Cherubim, Seraphim, the Four and Twenty Elders (??) and the Powers all stood by the tomb, presumably trapping Death. While Death was unable to act, Jesus descended to Amente and broke open the doors which had been locked in his face, and overturned the cauldrons of flame and put out the vast fields of fire. He swept everything and every soul out of Amente and left it as a barren desert. He bound mysterious figures known as the Shameless Ones and the Ministers of Satan, and fettered a demon named Melkhir with iron chains. In this bizarre campaign across the Coptic cosmology, he also took the time to redeem Adam and deliver man. He set all of Creation free and healed the wounds inflicted by Satan. He also went to Judas Iscariot – and in a decidedly unexpected move for someone famous for his forgiveness – demanded to know why he had betrayed him before declaring that he should now suffer ‘twofold woes’. Judas is also labelled as being the son of the Devil in an alternate version of this passage, and there is an entire page in the document which describes the horrendous tortures inflicted upon Judas. His mouth was filled with thirty serpents embodying every mortal vice, and they destroyed him completely. He was then cast out into the ‘outer darkness’ where ‘utter oblivion shall cover him for ever’ and ‘none shall enquire concerning him’.

Lets just let all that sink in for a bit.

Okay, so now our narrative moves to the third day of Jesus’s temporary death. He rose from the dead and of course left Death now unable to see his body in the tomb. Panicking, Death told the Pestilence Fiend (now referred to as the Pestilence God) to go down into Amente and secure it to keep himself safe until he could track down the missing body of Christ. Death confessed to the Pestilence Fiend that neither he nor his sixfold slithering spawn could overcome it, whether or not it really was the Son of God – of which he was still apparently doubtful. Death followed the Pestilence Fiend down into Amente but was shocked to discover what Jesus had done to the place. The gates had been destroyed, all the fires and their cauldrons lay extinguished and cold, three voices cried out in agony and suffering, and the Worm ‘which never sleeps’ lay among the carnage as well. Death and his sons examined the devastation wrought upon their domain while the angels sung hymns like the Seraphim would over the Offering of the Eucharist on the Lord’s Day.

On the day of the resurrection, a large group of women whose lives had been somehow touched by Jesus (the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene were among them, as well as the unnamed woman forgiven by God in Luke 7:47) congregated outside the tomb of Christ. They stood in the garden of Philogenes (a character introduced in this Apocrypha and then seemingly not mentioned again) who had been responsible for spurring the Jewish people into building another tomb for Jesus for some unexplained reason and he told them about how he had seen the entirety of the angelic host in his garden the previous night. While watching the angelic host in what one can only assume was stunned silence, he witnessed God the Father appear from his tabernacle and raise his Son from the dead. Philogenes therefore witnessed the Resurrection as it was happening.

The narrative then drifts off into describing in epic detail the Resurrection of Christ and how his light covered the entire world with his indomitable angelic host. Jesus then ascends into Heaven and the Apostles follow suite after a further revelation on the Mount of Olives. This story is extremely confusing and convoluted, and it is difficult to tell if the document is meant to contain one coherent narrative or if it simply contains a collection of interesting stories loosely strung together. The first few pages of the original document are unfortunately missing, and the text itself was apparently not in a good condition. It is quite possible that vital information pertaining to the identities of some of the bizarre figures mentioned in the document has been lost. I have done my best to present the story surrounding Jesus decimating Amente and forgiving the Original Sin – the latter of these actions is so insane in the context of Christian belief that it is hard to believe that this document, once again allegedly written by St. Bartholomew the Apostle, hasn’t gotten more attention.

Further Reading:

The Coptic Apocrypha in the Dialect of Upper Egypt by EA Wallis Budge (Original Source)

Analysis from BibleGateway

[lambcaey]

Casino Cups: Life Goes On (Part 1)

This three-part fanfic is largely based on the awesome Cuphead AU known as Ask Cups and Casinos, but could apply to the Cuphead fandom in general, too (just long before the Cup bros start working at the casino). Definitely check it out!

Credit goes to Bright Goat for the AU (hope I did justice to your amazing work!) Enjoy! 

Part 2

Casino Cups: Life Goes On (Part 1)

Silence without serenity; stillness with a sense of foreboding; a feeling of calm clashing with that of rapidly-growing fear. That was how it felt during the first few minutes without Elder Kettle. One minute, he was tearfully professing his love for his grandsons. The next, there lay nothing in bed but a shallow husk of china. This wasn't to say that it happened completely out of nowhere. The man was getting on in years, and his family couldn't afford the kind of medical treatment that would preserve his already very long life. Despite the Isles' long history of supernatural phenomena, none of the local mystics could conjure up anything guaranteeing immortality, aside from repeating the horrific mistake of making another deal with the Devil. Nevertheless, no matter how aware the boys were of this day coming, they still weren't ready when it eventually occurred. By the time he'd reached his final hours, Elder Kettle had stopped trying to escape his fate. Instead, he came to terms with it as a fact of life, a life that was as happy and fulfilling as it could ever be for him. Even as the last of his family stood before him, begging him not to go, Elder Kettle left this plane of existence with a smile, completely at peace. It took a great deal of will power after such an intense shock, but the boys eventually forced themselves to leave their grandfather's bedside for the proper postmortem preparations. It was almost too painful to even look at their elder's corpse anymore. They didn't want to leave him, but, at the same time, there wasn't anything left to hold on to; just an empty shell in which a warm, caring, and loving soul once resided. It was incredibly unnerving, the idea of something this traumatic and heartbreaking occurring in this cheery, colorful, whimsical world. Every other element of life, even death, had some sort of silly, cartoon-like slant, at least from Cuphead and Mugman's perspective. Seeing stars; pupils rolling in their heads; a giant lump that could be brought down with the swing of a hammer; any sort of injury or illness was presented with the classic "Rule of Funny" that usually dictated the rules of physics and natural order in Inkwell Isle. Here, there wasn't any of that. No soul to parry, no ghost to interact with; Elder Kettle was plainly, simply, and completely gone. This event was just another item of this world's never-ending list of questionable occurrences. The only real shock from it was how starkly it contrasted to the rest of Inkwell Isle. Naturally, such a rare phenomenon of this magnitude could hardly be kept a secret. The news spread fast to the other residents in the isles, and, within the next half hour, virtually all of them had arrived at the boys' doorstep. Of course, there were exceptions. As much as the Devil and King Dice relished the misery of others, this particular soul was of no real value to them, which would make the experience more boring and pointless than anything else. Weepy also had to remain outside, lest he start flooding the house with his rivers of tears (more so than usual). Everyone else was either mourning by Elder Kettle's bedside, or offering any form of assistance or comfort to his grieving grandsons. Though the boys couldn't afford an official funeral, this was the closest to one as they were ever going to get, and they greatly accepted it. Mugman was very receptive to his friends' kindness. He showed the utmost gratitude from even the smallest of favors, from a shoulder to cry on to an array of bouquets for his grandfather's grave. He also spent much of the time reflecting on all the fond memories he and everyone else shared with him, even mentioning some of the more humorous ones to bring some sort of levity to the situation. Though part of Mugman felt very much alone, being surrounded by all his friends and neighbors was all the more comforting to him during this troubling time. Cuphead, on the other hand, expressed an entirely different demeanor during the pseudo-funeral. He kept himself isolated from the rest of the crowd, sitting at the top of the stairs with his arms resting on his knees. Instead of shedding any tears, his eyes gazed off into space, as though a million thoughts were racing in his mind at once. Friends like Cagney or Hilda had asked if there was anything they could do for him, but after a few times of giving them a cold "I'm fine," Cuphead retreated to his room, barring himself from any socialization altogether. He didn't even come out to watch the local ghosts deliver his grandfather's urn to the mausoleum. It was as clear as day that Cuphead was anything but "fine." Many people, especially his brother, were very tempted to go upstairs, and insist that he come out and talk with them. However, they also bore in mind that perhaps this was Cuphead's way of grieving with such a tremendous loss. The last thing the poor boy needed was feeling as if his friends were trying to impose on him how they thought he should act in the face of his grandfather's passing. Although they had good intentions, everyone agreed it was best to leave Cuphead alone...for now. ~~~~ After an almost sleepless night, Mugman dragged himself downstairs, and fried up some eggs and bacon for himself and his brother, hoping he'd at least be willing to come out and eat. He also poured a couple of glasses of orange juice, and, by force of habit, reached out to grab some English breakfast tea with sugar, before remembering that family connoisseur was no longer there to enjoy it. Only seconds after setting the table, Cuphead tiredly made his way to the kitchen as well. "M-Morning, Cups." Mugman chirped with a forced smile. "I made us some breakfast." "Thanks," Cuphead responded rather brusquely as he sat down. Although the meal was well-made by any standards, any appetite for it was practically nonexistent. Mugman forced a few bites of his eggs while Cuphead simply twirled his fork around the bacon, staring glumly down at the table. After a moment or so of awkward silence, Mugman nervously attempted to break the ice. "I, uh, I put Hilda's flowers up as a centerpiece for the table," the young boy stammered. "That was really nice of her, huh?" No answer. Mugman tried something else. "It...looks like a really nice day outside. If you want, maybe we can go for a walk, or catch some butterflies, or see how the others are doing. How-How does that sound?" Again, no response. He may as well be talking to an empty chair. Mugman let out a small sigh. He clearly wasn't getting anywhere with his grief-stricken brother. With a heavy frown, Mugman tried appealing to Cuphead's better nature. "Listen, Cuphead. It's ok if you don't feel like talking to me, but...just know that I'm always here for you whenever you need it. I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't want to. I..." Mugman's voice quivered a bit. "I just don't want you to feel like you gotta be all alone." At last, Cuphead looked up at his brother, his expression switching from dullness to sudden concern. Although he was referring to Cuphead in his offer of emotional support, it was a subtle, yet clear, sign of the same desire on Mugman's part as well. He may have sounded calm and collected in his words, but they were drowned out from the stronger signs of loneliness and misery in his facial and body language. After a moment of staring longingly at his brother, Cuphead's face winced and twitched with anxiety, his clenched fists shaking on the table. "M-Mug, I...I-I uh..." Just when it seemed like he was ready to explode, Cuphead swallowed hard, forcing himself to regain his former composure. "D-Don't worry, Mug. We'll both be all right. I just...I need some time to think." At that, Cuphead excused himself from the table, heading back upstairs. Mugman's eyelids rose in bewilderment. He wasn't sure whether to feel hurt from Cuphead walking away when he needed help, or worried for his stability after just seeing him fight so hard with himself. This sense of uncertainty became the norm over the next few days. The boys remained close, refusing to leave either one home alone for any reason. Ironically, despite such closeness, it was this same concern that also made them keep their distance. Although they deeply desired each other's companionship during this time of grief, something in their heads made them reluctant to act on it. Cuphead continued to isolate himself and battle his internal conflict while Mugman stayed away out of respect for his brother's time to "think." It was a paradox of perfectly painful proportions, and they both prayed that it would soon part. Fortunately for Cuphead and Mugman, they didn't spend the week in completely shut out from the world. Once in a while, a friend or two would stop by, and ask the boys how they had been doing. Mugman was thankful and accepting of any company that was offered to him. Occasionally, there was activity involved, such as playing chess with Werner, Beppi fashioning a balloon animal bouquet, and even Djimmi performing some magic tricks. Most of the time, though, Mugman felt just as, if not more, satisfied with simply sitting around and talking, whether to listen to advice or have his friends hear him out. It may not have felt like the same sort of love and caring that Elder Kettle provided, but it definitely lifted Mugman's spirits knowing he still had so many people to look after him. Although his friends offered this same comfort to Cuphead, he remained adamant in his desire to be left in solitude, which was starting to worry Mugman and the others. It wasn't as though they felt he was grieving in the wrong way; it was that, perhaps, Cuphead's self-imposed isolation was beginning to do more harm than good. Taking the time to contemplate and collect one's thoughts is an important part of the grieving process. In Cuphead's case, however, the extent to which he'd spent so much time alone left a greater impression that he wasn't allowing himself to be with anyone. He was never fond of asking for help, as it went against his self-image of being an independent, confident go-getter in virtually any task at hand. Never did Cuphead ever realize that coping with death and loss was going to be the biggest challenge he'd ever faced, enough to make fighting the Devil look tame. ~~~~ Five days later, Mugman felt enough was enough. As Cuphead sat solemnly on the swing set, staring off into the sky, his brother approached him in a manner that was both nervous and assertive, trying as delicately as possible to address the glaring elephant in the room. "C-C-Cuphead," Mugman uttered. "A-Are you ready to finally talk now?" Cuphead sighed, his head now facing down. On any other day, Mugman would've rightfully taken this as a subtle, yet clear, "no." Nonetheless, he could no longer stand wallowing in hesitation, and remained persistant. "Cuphead, please. We can't keep going on like this." Mugman sat on the adjacent swing. "If we don't hear each other out, then w-we'll be too sad to eat, play, or do pretty much anything." Cuphead remained still, but his face made a grimace, his eyes shutting tight as they brimmed with tears. His mind was practically screaming at every muscle in his body to let him walk away again, or, at the very least, allow for any sort of movement beyond trembling and staggering breathing. Alas, the inner turmoil that had been festering inside Cuphead had now brought him into a state of psychological paralysis. All the anxiety, sadness, and loneliness he'd been trying to brush off had now ensnared him like quicksand. Noticing the rising tension, Mugman slowly reached his hand for that of his brother. "Cuphead, what's the matter? I wanna help you." The moment Mugman lay one finger on his hand, Cuphead suddenly found the strength to become mobile again. With a deep breath and a heavy gulp, he jerked up from his swing, staring down at his startled sibling. "I'm sorry, Mug," he answered firmly, "I'm sorry I've been so distant. I didn't mean to make you feel like I didn't care about you or anything." "Aw, Cuphead, you didn't-" Mugman stopped. His heartfelt response immediately froze from the sudden chill in his brother's voice. "But...but I think I finally know how to fix everything, and get our lives back to the way they were. I'm..." He paused, mustering the last bit of strength to speak his mind. "I'm gonna get Elder Kettle back!" Mugman gasped. "Cuphead, no! Y-you can't do that! Elder Kettle is dea-" "I KNOW!" Cuphead screamed, taking a few breaths to regain stability in his voice. "I mean, he may be now, b-but as long as we have things like ghosts and angels and soul contracts in this world, I am never gonna rule out the possibility that he could come back!" Mugman stood beside Cuphead, a familiar feeling of danger creeping inside him. "Cuphead, for once, be reasonable! Y-You almost gambled our souls for the Devil; who knows what'll happen if you-" "Reasonable?!" Cuphead shouted, taken aback. "Why don't you, for once, be willing to take a risk for something you want? We've spent way too much time with Elder Kettle to just give up on him now! Don't you even want to see him again?!" "Of course I do!" Mugman's voice started hardening as well. "But this...i-it just doesn't feel right!" "Fine, be that way! Sit here at home, and do nothing like a coward!" Cuphead paused. Mugman's expression looked like a twisted combination of hurt and enraged. As he turned his back on him, Cuphead softened his tone a bit. "Trust me, Mug. This is the only way we're gonna be happy again. And don't worry; I won't let you down. I won't stop until I've set everything right for all three of us!" The second he finished that declaration, Cuphead smoke-dashed away, making a beeline for the woods of Inkwell Isle I. Mugman tried hurriedly to catch up with him. "Cuphead, wait! Come back!" Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the forest became too dense with foliage to safely smoke-dash any farther. Before he knew it, Cuphead was already out of sight. Mugman's mind turned into an emotional roller coaster. Knowing his brother's hasty nature, he simply knew that what Cuphead had proposed was another one of his terrible ideas. Granted, much of Inkwell Isles' laws of nature didn't make sense to begin with. After all, this was a place where a queen bee could summon floating triangles, a giant mermaid could live while decapitated, and, as Cuphead had pointed out, there were even many ghosts and skeletons roaming freely in their afterlife! Nevertheless, nothing along such lines had appeared to come to fruition in Elder Kettle's case. If he wasn't meant to be seen among the living, it was most likely that, like everything else in Inkwell Isle, it was better to not question it, and simply accept it as part of reality. The last time Cuphead tried to defy that rule, the Devil very nearly took their heads. Also, despite the danger he knew would be at hand, there was a part of Mugman that wondered why he should bother saving Cuphead at all? How dare he accuse him of not caring about their beloved grandfather! He was every bit as upset over the loss as his brother was; how does wanting to move forward make him a coward? This was a new low, even for someone who carelessly gambled both their souls to the Devil. If Cuphead were to suffer, it's what he deserves for being such a jerk...right? Mugman then shook his head, rationality and common sense catching up with him. Cuphead's in trouble, he spoke in his mind. None of these arguments matter right now. I gotta make sure he stays safe, now more than ever. Not hesitating a minute longer, Mugman followed the path his brother took, his tear-soaked eyes now glaring with determination. An unnerving aura permeated the isles as a blood-red sunset turned Mugman's body into a bold silhouette. As much as he wanted to put his mental turmoil to rest, he had to put his grief aside if he wanted to keep family from getting any smaller than it already was.

(To be continued)

[starwarsnonsense]

Episode IX - A Speculative Plot

This is obviously not a serious prediction regarding Episode IX and I don’t anticipate being right with much (if any) of this - however, since The Last Jedi told me to go for broke when it comes to my predictions, I thought it would be fun to extrapolate from the events of VIII and come up with a resolution to the sequel trilogy that makes sense to me. 

Take this in good fun - it’s really fanfiction, but I feel this doesn’t really deserve that label since the fanfic of this would have much more time and effort put into it!

Enjoy - I’d like to hear people’s thoughts on this.

- The film starts with the following crawl:

SUPREME LEADER KYLO REN strives to form the galaxy according to his vision. His KNIGHTS OF REN scour the galaxy for Force relics that will help him to consolidate his power. THE RESISTANCE continues its brave struggle to overturn THE FIRST ORDER and its leader, its numbers having swollen as the spark of hope ignited by LUKE SKYWALKER spreads to the furthest reaches of the galaxy. In its new position of strength, the Resistance has brokered a temporary peace with the First Order to allow for vital aid to be delivered to the famine-stricken munitions planet of Pumia. But the truce has been shattered. A bomb has ripped through a diplomatic vessel carrying GENERAL LEIA ORGANA, killing all onboard. With their leader gone, the Resistance must forge ahead without her....

- The film opens with Leia's funeral. Poe delivers a rousing and moving speech as Rey, Finn and Rose look on, comforting each other. Rey makes her excuses and leaves to be alone with her grief, uniquely affected by Leia's death due to her connection with the Force. Once alone she hears a man crying and is startled to realise that her bond with Kylo has re-awoken. She is cold with him and asks how he can grieve for his mother after everything he has done to wrong her and dishonour her legacy. Kylo is upset and tells her that he has attempted to be the sort of leader his mother would have wanted him to be - he points out the good things he has done for the galaxy since becoming its ruler, and insists that he had nothing to do with the attack that caused his mother's death (it will later be revealed as a scheme of Hux's intended to stir the conflict). Rey tells him that nothing would have made Leia happier than having her son return and prove that Ben Solo lived, and ends their connection.

- Kylo and Rey are both struggling in their own ways. Kylo is attempting to be a strong and bold leader but struggles with the weight of his responsibilities and a lack of internal support. Hux actively undermines him at every turn and is growing in confidence. Even Kylo's Knights of Ren are becoming increasingly defiant, and it is implied that they may be conspiring with Hux to overthrow him. Rey has taken on Force-sensitive students who have been attracted to the Resistance cause, but she struggles with what to teach them - what lessons from the books should she carry forward to her new Jedi Order? Which should she discard? She also feels at a remove from the rest of the Resistance, as the leader of a spiritual component that Poe, Finn and Rose - while great friends and strong supporters - can't truly understand.

- As they struggle, Luke appears to both Kylo and Rey. Kylo is angry and resentful and tries his best not to listen, but Luke perseveres. He encourages Kylo to talk with Rey and urges Rey to do the same - Luke is confident that a solution will be achieved through dialogue, not conflict. Rey and Kylo share their struggles and experiences, and Kylo in particular shares memories of his mother and how Snoke targeted him when he was a boy. Rey shares how she was exploited as a small child trapped in a state of indentured slavery, and Kylo is inspired to consider new measures - he looks into the plausibility of freeing the stormtroopers from their servitude and having them serve the First Order because they choose to, not because they are forced to.

- Despite this progress, the conflict between the Resistance and the First Order escalates. Massive dissent breaks out on Pumia, a largely industrial planet crucial to the production of First Order munitions. The Resistance sees Pumia as an opportunity to seize control of a planet for the first time since Kylo assumed office, and Poe and Finn decide to launch a ground attack to take the capital and establish a revolutionary government. Rey warns against it as she has premonitions of massive loss and bloodshed, but Poe decides that the sacrifice would be worth the potential victory - things have been stagnant for too long. Rey reluctantly agrees and takes part in the battle. She encounters Kylo on the battlefield and they clash, duelling and displaying their newly found accomplishment. They are both impressed by each other and the fight moves into a forested area away from the main battle. Rey successfully disarms Kylo, but only because he essentially stops trying - he kneels before her and presents her with a choice. He points out that she had two opportunities to kill her before that she didn't take - he gives her another and says that, if she believes it is right, she should dispatch him. But, of course, she can't. She can see that, despite everything, Ben Solo is still there.

- They have a moment and come close to an embrace, but one of Rey's students has come looking for her - he sees her in the arms of the Supreme Leader and bolts, with Rey chasing after him and leaving Kylo behind.

- Rey talks to the boy but he is inconsolable and won't listen. Rey is filled with despair but tells him he must do what he thinks is best, letting him go. The boy tells Poe of Rey's treachery moments after the Resistance have declared victory in the battle for Pumia. Poe speaks to Rey privately and she tells him that things are not as they seem, but that it is no longer right for her to remain with the Resistance - if she were in Poe's place, she wouldn't trust Rey either. Poe reluctantly allows her to leave.

- Rey goes on a journey to clarify her understanding of the Force, resisting Kylo's pleas for her to join him and help ease the way towards democracy - she still doesn't trust him, not fully. Luke offers her counsel and supports her. Her adventures see her come into contact with a Knights of Ren or two, providing some action.

- Kylo works with new resolve to implement a better and more democratic form of government, loosening his grip on power. He begins to institute reforms to the stormtrooper program, enraging Hux, who brings forward his plans for a coup. They get the pretext they need when one of Kylo's knights witnesses him communicating with Rey through the Force. Kylo is overthrown as a traitor to the First Order and is pegged for trial and inevitable execution - Rey feels the moment is connection to the Force is cut off, and knows something terrible has happened.

- The overthrow of Kylo sends everything into chaos, and the First Order starts to crumble. The Resistance seizes the opportunity to attack key First Order outposts and Finn leads a ground-level revolution among the stormtroopers themselves, who have become emboldened by the taste of freedom that Kylo offered them.

- Rey infiltrates the First Order command ship where Kylo is being held and finds him bloody and beaten. He is horrified that she came for him and they are confronted by Hux and the Knights of Ren, who tell them they can die together. Rey ignites her lightsaber and fights to defend Kylo, who is helpless and bound until Rey cuts through his Force-dampening chains and throws him the spare saber she'd carried with her. The fight together, drawing strength from each other. It comes down to Kylo fighting against his head knight, who had always resented him for his power and bloodline - with relish, the knight cuts off Kylo's hand "for Vader". Rey takes him out with a lightsaber through the gut immediately afterwards, and she and Kylo embrace passionately. There's then the sound of a single blaster shot, and Rey goes limp in Kylo's arms. He looks up to see a wounded Hux crumpling to his knees with a smile on his face, a blaster in his hand. Kylo snaps his neck with a clench of his fist.

- Kylo is filled with despair but he thinks to the manuscripts that were brought to him by his knights, including a scroll relating the teachings used by Darth Plagueis to create life. He realises that he can sacrifice his relationship with the Force - leaving himself ordinary and powerless - to save Rey, and he gives up his powers gladly. Rey awakens to find Kylo unconscious but alive, and she kisses him as he wakes up, tears in her eyes. The man who once gave up everything for power has given up all his power for love.

- Aware that he could never be accepted by the Resistance, Kylo leaves and Rey returns to the Resistance. Poe and Finn agree that they can accept Kylo's exile - with no power in the Force, he is harmless. The Resistance forms a government and establishes the Republic once more, with all sides - First Order remnants included - now committed to peace. The film ends with Rey teaching a room filled with children, including a boy an a girl with Ben's black hair and her eyes. The final shot shows Ben tending to a garden in a desert, looking out onto a sunset with hope and contentment.

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 40

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Chapter 13: Outlaw

In the light of the early morning, the day after Kurin was poisoned, a Dark Dragon sailor came up the side of the ship and sprinted towards Sula.  He shouted to get her attention, “Captain!  Loris and I have just found out that the Grandalor left her berth last night!  She was last seen on a course of SSE.”

Galvanized to action she ordered, “Have the Hailing Drum sound ‘Emergency Recall’ and tocsin ‘prepare for battle’.  Go!”

She ran toward the bridge.  Amid the harsh rattle of the tocsin and the deep, carrying notes of the hailing drum, she turned and said intensely,  “Captain Mord!  You must notify your Council, so that the Grandalor can be outlawed.  We have no such restriction.  The Soaring Bird and I will hunt wide apart, in the hope of overtaking them.  We will return here in two day’s time whether or not they have been caught.

“I have never left survivors in the water, and never felt more like doing so, but once.  If I find them, that ship will no longer plague your fleet.”  Her face contorted in private grief.   She put her head in her hands, shoulders shaking.  “I have prayed never to kill another ship.  Dragons grant that we can take them without loss.”

Mord looked at her, startled, feeling more than a little guilt that he had just been picturing the Dark Dragon destroying the Grandalor.  He didn’t want Sula to have more pain.  He shook his head, puzzled that the thought of sinking the Grandalor should bother Sula.

She straightened up, hardening visibly.  Putting the moment of vulnerability behind her.  The tocsin was rattling a call that had never been heard in the Naral fleet.  In the background the mighty signaling drum of the Dark Dragon was thundering in a strange, hollow voice that almost seemed to arise from that deeps ‘Emergency Recall!’  It was followed moments later by the higher note of the Longin’s signal drum sounding ‘Recall and Assemble!’  The Longin’s crew boiled out of the market and the various ships that they had been visiting.  The Soaring Bird was sounding a mellow seeming but powerful trumpet.  Her crew too was racing for boats.

The crew of the Dark Dragon was diving into rowing boats and dashing for their ship.  The tocsin of the Dark Dragon could be heard, high and sharp, drumming unfamiliar orders, along with such familiar ones as ‘raise sail.’  Tall thin bundles were rising up swiftly, their feet at the deck, their tops high above the ‘A’ frame masts, more similar bundles were rising up on tackle between the masts.  At the drum call from the tocsin ‘make all sail’, the tall bundles opened with a slam and rattle of canvas audible on the market rafts as they caught the wind.

The Dark Dragon’s sails looked like an array of giant lobster claws reaching for the sky.  She slipped free of her anchorage and began to gather way.  The tocsin sounded again, and the claw-sails leaned over in their tackle to nearly sideways, catching the wind better as the ship was brought into trim.  

Gathering speed, the Dark Dragon swept around the western end of the anchored Naral fleet.  Sailors were pulling open her fore-deck, revealing a huge catapult.  Her harpoon catapults were being freed in their mounts and tested for aiming up as well as out and down.  Sailors could be seen racking ammunition by the catapults.  There were strange shot and other things that could not be made out due to the distance.  It was not harpoons.  By the time that she came about on to her SSE tack, spray was flying away from her bows.  

The Soaring Bird was not idle either.  Amid the alien sound of blowing horns, her sails, also big lobster-claws, came up.  They rose more sideways from the start.  Whatever her means of communication, she too, had slipped her mooring and was moving out.  There was only a small purl of spray at her bows as she followed the Dark Dragon around the Naral fleet.

“I thought that the Dark Dragon was the fastest ship I’d ever seen . . . .” said Captain Mord watching in amazement from the front of the Council Pavilion.

Master Juris beside him, standing on a bench to see better, said, “She was — — Until the Soaring Bird got underway.  Come, we still have to get something done about the Grandalor.”

Captain Sarfin, upon hearing in a few words what had happened, ordered the Council’s Drummers to spread the word to all ships, ‘Captains’ Council! Emergency!’  Those Captains not on their ships came at once to the Council Pavilion.  Hailing Drums on ships farther out, relayed the message to those still further out.  Boats were being launched all over the fleet.

While the Council was assembling, the Pavilion was full of the buzz of Captains comparing notes.

“Did you see those strangers go?  Fastest ships I’ve ever seen.”

“I saw.  Saw that monster catapult under the fore-deck, too.  Can’t imagine any good use for a machine like that.  What are they up to, do you suppose?”

“I think that we’re going to find out soon enough.  Sarfin is about to call us to order.”

Sarfin raised both hands for attention.  The hum of voices stopped.  

“Captains, we face a grave crisis.  I can think of no worse thing in all of my Gatherings.  We need to decide what course to set in the face of this.  You have all heard that Kurin Behar Longin has fallen desperately ill.  The fact is no longer disputable.  She was deliberately poisoned by a party presently unknown.

“I must ask, with the authority of a Council Requirement for Knowledge, officially overriding any Ship’s Business, have any of you caught and kept or sold an Ord?”  He looked old and tired as he asked this terrible question.

Three Captains, also shaken, raised their hands.

The first one, Captain Darok, of the Muline, said levelly, “The Muline has not caught an Ord, but I know who would buy one.  The Grandalor approached us on the open sea, about four full Wohans ago, inquiring for an Ord and offering many Strong Skins and Glue blocks for it, if we should find one.  Captain Barad himself talked to me, and his officers to mine.”

One of the others nodded agreement, “Happened to us too.  Almost three and a half Wohans back.”  

Merced, Captain of the Dolthin, said heavily, “I sold it to him about three Wohans ago.  He said that he was going to try to make an infusion of it to stun Strong Skins.  He claimed that he hoped to make them safer to catch.”

Sarfin said sternly, “That is the thing we most needed to know.”  He held out for all to see, the innocent appearing awl with the ghastly green stain that revealed its true nature.  “This was used to injure and perhaps kill two people.  Kurin was the first.  At least one sailor known to be of the Grandalor’s crew bet a Grython crewman the set of sail stitching tools that this awl came out of that he could not take this awl and, undetected, pierce any part of Kurin’s food.  It was poked into her mid-day meal just once.  She collapsed last evening and was rushed to care aboard the Dark Dragon.

“Early this morning, the Grython crewman, whose name we still do not know, heard of Kurin’s illness.  He suspected that he had been used, and tried to bring the awl to Captain Sula.  Not knowing that it was an Ord spine, he put it into his pocket.  He collapsed on the way, and was taken to the Dark Dragon sickbay.  He implicated the Grandalor.

“Unfortunately, with what we have just heard, the facts are clear.  The Grandalor -- Captain, officers and men -- have long plotted the death of Kurin Behar Longin.

“Kurin is an exceptional person.  As the youngest full journeyman boat-builder in fleet history, she has become a fully legal adult. She is practiced in many skills, yet finds the time to make some of the finest toys that our children play with.  She has lately demonstrated a new form of navigation – a priceless skill.  The Grandalor’s action robs not only the Longin, but all of us as well.

“I have looked into Council records.  I can find no other case of the deliberate, planned murder of a crewman on one ship by the officers and crew of another ship.  I am going to give up the deck to discussion.  We must set our course carefully.  These are uncharted waters.”

An uneasy silence followed.  Merced broke it.  “I can only think that the punishment should be fit to the crime.  At the least, a large part of the crew knew of what was to be done.

“This is the first time that I have heard of a ship being guilty of a crime.  A Captain, rarely.  Some member of a crew?  It has happened. Many, officers and crew alike, being in on the plot?  Never before, nor ever again . . . .”

“I think that I see where you are going,” Captain Hored, of the Grython, cut into Merced’s long pause.  “I can only see one way to handle this.  Outlawry.  For the entire ship.  Let the Grandalor be stricken from the rolls of the Naral fleet.  Send the word to our neighboring fleets as well.  Give her no place to run.  Give the ship itself, her accounts and all of the goods in her to whoever captures her.

“Let us also keep careful account of all those known to be aboard.  If any are found in our waters, let them be brought to trial, to determine their guilt or innocence in this crime.

“Silor Elon is known to have delivered the lethal awl, along with the other tools.  The Grandalor’s Master Boat-wright, Selked, put his mark on the awl when he made it.  I recognize it, having bought many tools of his making before.  Captain Barad Maks and his officers negotiated for the Ord.  These men should be executed at once if seen in our waters.”

There was a rumble of agreement from the assembled Captains.  With some debate of particular points, and the agreement that it should be made a precedent, the notion was passed.  The Grandalor was an outlaw, with no fleet to call on for aid.

TO BE CONTINUED

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[onceabluemoonwrites]

Sangreal! - Chapter 2

Summary: King Arthur AU, in which Enma is stuck in a stone for some reason and only Tsuna can free him. Who let Hibari be Lancelot? The wizard Reborn may know.

Also, sentient swords: "Sir... You are holding my butt."

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3

My fic master list here.

Chapter 2:  In Which Sir Tsuna Gropes a Sword By Accident

‘’Wizard Reborn, are ye certain this is the right path to take? Is this truly as God dictated it?’’ The Archbishop of Canterbury rubbed his hands.

‘’As certain as the path of my bullet towards the brain of idiots.’’

The Archbishop shifted from foot to foot, nervously tugging at his habit ‘’I’m not familiar with that term, o Wizard, but…. Is it not a hindrance? The mass will come in at any moment!’’

Reborn looked up from his nails, flicked non-existent dirt off them, raised an eyebrow and glanced meaningfully down the aisle. There, directly against the high altar, was a great stone, in which a cold iron anvil as well a sword, was buried.

Make no mistakes- it was placed in front of the altar stairs.

‘’It’s for the good of Britain.’’

‘’But I can’t go up the stairs!’’

‘’Well, that is your problem, is it not?’’

Smirking, Reborn strutted away.

After the death of King Iemitsu, the realm was in jeopardy for a long time. While some said the King had an heir, others emphasized the past tense in that particular sentence. Why else would the Queen be childless? The babe must have died before it took its first breath!

Nobody dared to ask the Queen, though- she had Opinions. Highly dangerous, in a Lady, all agreed. For all Lady Nana was lovely, she was vicious too. If the Queen would have heard of this, she surely would have smote them where they stood!

But the Queen was a widow now, on top of losing her only child, and her husband's death had hurt her so deeply that she retreated into her own skin, only laughing airily, sweetly, at nothing. She was a husk of the grand Queen she’d once been. Her eyes were blank, vivacity forlorn, only ever responding to her dear friend Lady Lal.

The Lords all desired the Crown like no other, so they could not agree on the man that should ascend the throne. The one thing they did agree on was that wedding the Queen was not necessary in order to become King, for many of the Lords were wed already, and none of them were about to give up their claim to the crown.

In court, Lady Lal reigned with an iron fist, in the hope of aiding the Queen, but her first and foremost duties had always been to the Royal Army, and she was not prepared for the work the court took. Highly adaptable as she was, she survived the honey-coated poison of the court and learned subterfuge of her own, but not without a price. The army, without a king or a constable, was torn apart into fractions, one for each lord, loyalties shifting quicker than the sand in an hourglass.

And so it was. The Court around a grief-stricken Queen, the constable poker-faced, desperately trying to keep up appearances, and the army lost to all of them.

Fourteen years passed by, and still, the lords were warring amongst themselves. So on the morn before Christmas eve, the wizard Reborn spoke to the Archbishop: ‘’Send for all the Lords and men of might, and tell them they must come to this very church on the first Christmas day, upon the pain of cursing! A miracle will come, to show us the rightwise King of Britain!’’

As he said, it was.

On the eve of Christmas day, all Lords came to mass. Gape, they did.

The Sword in the Stone was a miracle, indeed! Upon the hilt stood in golden letters: ‘’Whoso pulls this Sword from the Stone and Anvil, is the rightwise King of all of England.’’

As one, the Lords moved in on their prey: The blade that would crown them better than any Royal headdress could! It was there, in the church, who could have put it there but God? The mighty Lord high in the heavens? Surely, they were meant to pull it from the stone!

Elbowing and pushing each other to the side, they worked their way forward, but before any one of them could touch the stone with avaricious claws, the Archbishop threw himself before the stone, arms spread, and thundered: ‘’Are you insane?! Blasphemy, this is! Go sit in the pews, ye dogs!’’

With big eyes, the Lords drooped off and did as he said.  The archbishop crossed his arms. ‘’Never have I ever seen any gentlemen behave so rambunctiously in the house of the Lord! Shame on you, Lords, shame on you!’’

He narrowed his eyes at them, stabbing his finger in the air. ‘’Ye will sit, ye will listen, and NONE will touch the Sword before the high mass is over! Now, obey!’’

They did.

‘’My Queen, the sword I spoke of to you, none of the Lords have been able to pull it.’’ Lal kneeled before Queen Nana.

The woman in question sat on her chair before the window, hands folded in her lap, features drawn and tired, staring empty-eyed at the city beyond the glass.

Lady Lal took one of her hands. ‘’Milady, the archbishop declared there is to be a tournament on New Year's day, for both the nobles and the common men. Whoever wins gets the chance to try their fortune upon pulling the blade from the Stone, for the Archbishop trusts the Lord Almighty to let the True King may win. But I fear what will happen to you, Milady, if anyone were to remove it, yet I am also concerned with the fact that the Stone did not judge a single one of the Lords worthy! There was no proper king amongst them! What kind of Lords does this godforsaken kingdom sport?!’’

Slowly, Lady Nana turned her head. Sitting there, in her nightgown, hair loose and draping against the back of the chair, no crown in sight, the Queen painted a picture so vulnerable that Lady Lal could not help but clutch her heart to prevent it from breaking. There were very few things that had managed to wedge themselves through her armour, both steel and metaphorical, but the ruin of this magnificent woman was one of them.

Lady Nana’s voice was no louder than a whisper, as easily blown away by a breeze as the dead autumn leaves long gone. ‘’There is no proper king, for none of them are my son.’’

With a sharp intake of breath, Lady Lal could not do a thing but bite back her tears, and raise her hand to cup the Queen’s face, rubbing her thumb in gentle circles across her cheek. ‘’Nana…’’

The Queen’s bottom lip quivered, her grip on Lal’s other hand tightening. ‘’I miss him.’’

Lady Lal got up and pressed the Queen against[l her, embracing her. Resting her cheek on Lady Nana’s head, she pretended not to notice the tears wetting her shoulder as Lady Nana buried her nose in her neck. Running a hand through Nana’s hair, she closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of clean soap and saltern sadness.

With a lump in her throat, she spoke. ‘’I know, milady, I know.’’

‘’You had a farting contest with Squalo and lost control of your magic?!’’ Tsuna stared at the lumpy remains of his brother’s sword incredulously.

Xanxus sniffed, picking at his nails. ‘’Obviously, trash. Now fetch me a new sword.’’

With half a mind to set Xanxus’ ass on fire, Tsuna stalked out of the tent to get a new sword, kicking the table on his way out for the good measure. If he didn’t deliver, he’d be known as the brother of the guy who farted his sword right out of existence. Great start to the new year, really. Note the sarcasm. He groaned, rubbing his temples.

Xanxus was a dirty, lazy bastard, who knew exactly how to exploit Tsuna’s weak spots.

A farting contest with Squalo? Of all the ridiculous New Years day’s traditions they’d had made up as kids to hold on to… And on such an important day too!

Knowing their grandmother, Daniela would simply have given Xanxus the Eyebrow for losing control with his magic during, but she was already in the crowd and as such, no help at all. (Please don’t let her hear that thought- she could smell insubordination).

Honestly, he pitied the guy who found the still-steaming (and stinky) half-melted remains of the sword. Better to get out of there quickly and avoid being the one to clean that disaster up.

He looked up, the sound of the clocktower bells ringing in his ears. He bit his lip. Damn it, only ten minutes left.

Tsuna was late, late, late and if he did not find a replacement for Xanxus’ sword before the tournament began, his social life would be over.

…Why was there a sword in the churchyard? Never mind- he’d seen stranger things. When your elderly grandmother, only walking straight with sheer stubbornness, beat down dragons for a living, your view of life tended to get a bit skewed.

Running past the pews, Tsuna scaled the stone to the huge anvil, hoisting himself up. He studied the blade, coloured brightly by the huge stained window above the altar, depicting the  Virgin Mary with Baby Jesus.

Curses! The sword was stuck in the anvil, the hilt the only thing above the stone!

The clock tower rang again.

…Tsuna did not have TIME for this sword to be stuck! He threw himself onto the anvil, grabbed the hilt, and pulled.

The bell stopped ringing, and an oppressive silence spread through the huge building, only broken by the zing of metal sliding against metal as the blade was separated from the anvil. Dumbfounded, Tsuna stared at the sword in his hands, gleaming prettily in the morning light.

…Never mind. He had no time for this. He had to get it to Xanxus! Turning to slide down the rock, he-

‘’Sir… You are holding my butt.’’

Tsuna blanched, jerking to steady himself. Regaining his balance, he looked to the left, he looked to the right, behind him, afore him, but no living soul other than him dwelled within the church.

‘’Sir,’’ it came again, ‘’Would you please be so kind as to release it? This is… Um… intimate.’’

Was someone hiding underneath the stone? It couldn’t be the sword, right? Tsuna scratched the back of his neck.

The blade heated up underneath his hand. ‘’Sir, please do not be so forward! The butt of a sword is truly the butt!’’

It- The sword- it-

This couldn’t be happening.

So just as he always did when he was at loss, Tsuna panicked,  dropped any and all things in his hands and screamed.

‘’HIEEEEEEEEEEEE!’’ With a swooping sensation in his gut, Tsuna fell backwards, off the stone. The harsh landing punched the air out his lungs, the stone floor cold against his cheek.

The sword clattered down beside him.

As if the devil was on his heels, Tsuna scrambled backwards, bumped his head harshly against the pews, and then hastily hid behind them.

‘’…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’’ The voice was soft and gentle this time. ‘’My name is Enma.’’

Tsuna peeked around the corner of the pews, warily eying the sword. But be as it may, etiquette dictated he was to state his name when another gave them theirs, and he would not dishonour the name of Vongola by not doing so. Even if it concerned a sword stuck in a stone.

…Formerly, that was. Because Tsuna pulled it out.

Shivering, he stood up, straightened his back, and shuffled towards the sword again, where it lay in the middle of the aisle, sun reflecting off its shiny surface.

‘’I am Tsunayoshi di Vongola, son of Sir Timoteo. Whose…’’ Tsuna hesitated, ‘’Offspring are you?’’

‘’Well, my full name would be Enma Kozato Simon, Holy Sword in the Stone, son of God, for he forged me.’’

…Forged by GOD?!

Feeling like there was a yawning hole beneath his feet, Tsuna fainted.

From behind the huge church doors, the Wizard Reborn sighed, and stood up to walk towards what would be the Rightful King of England. Prodding the downed boy-King with his boot-clad toes, the wizard Reborn pouted. He had expected an aneurysm at least.

From the floor, Enma squicked, ‘’Sire, would you please help sir Tsunayoshi? He is… indisposed at the moment.’’

Reborn waved him away, enchanting a scarf left on the pews to pick the Holy Sword up. ‘’I am aware, Sir Enma. I had hoped the whole thing would’ve been more amusing, but for some reason, your guard knights are missing.’’

The sword, now snugly wrapped up, chirped. ‘’They went out to win the tournament! They wouldn’t let anybody touch me!’’

Reborn snorted as he lifted sir Tsuna of the floor. ‘’Depriving me of my entertainment by not battling the little prince and abandoning their posts. They’re not very good at guarding you, are they?’’

Enma let out a surprised sound. ‘’But they aren’t guarding me, great wizard!’’

Reborn raised his eyebrow, hoisting sir Tsuna up over his shoulder. ‘’Then what, pray tell, are they defending, if not you?’’

‘’That would be my virtue, sir.’’

‘’…The Lady Adel’s idea, wasn’t it?’’

Author’s note

In Le Morte d’Arthur, it says that the stone was placed ‘’in the churchyard, against the high altar,’’. The high altar in a big church, as this church likely would have been, would be rather high. The stairs would be rather broad, most likely, but for the sake of the story, they were narrow in this case. The image made me laugh, anyway.

Writing this chapter took very long, because however much I wanted to write the next part, something was missing. When a lovely anon on Tumblr send me an incredibly sweet ask about my LalNana stories, I realized I had completely forgotten what to do with Lal after the first chapter. Which was a shame, so she came to hit me up the head and protect Nana!

I had a lot of fun with this chapter!