#i understand why he has such a dedicated little army now

[know-the-way]

Alright, so I’ve kept an open tab where I’ve been scrolling the Miss Fisher tag for a while. I’m now back in the depths of 2015 while everyone was awaiting the series 3 finale and my God at the ANXIETY I feel for y’all. lol I’m sitting here in the future knowing what happens and even I’m like, “omg they’ve built it up for nothing… we’ve been bamboozled - phrack’s not gonna happen, this is fucked up.”

The reviewers and journalists who released teasers during that time were a special kind of evil. They put y’all THROUGH it. Like, damn. I’m so sorry for your suffering. And thank you for your service.

Fuck. lol

[americankimchi]

Do you have any tips for writing Obi Wan or any meta in mind with his characterizarion?

hmmm sure why not! i'll give a few tips on how i'd write obi-wan. mind you this is how i interpret the character, so ymmv.

i truly do not like it when fics have obi-wan voluntarily leaving the order. like it's so out-of-character for me in my head that the premise of the story + the writing would have to work triple-time to get me to stick around. now if he's been removed from it by an EXTERNAL SOURCE (not the order. i cannot stress this enough: the jedi kicking obi-wan out is so jarring to me i'll leave the fic in an instant) or somehow unable to return to the order for whatever reason, all is well.

not a prodigy, but a genius. obi-wan is an incredibly intelligent person with an absolutely staggering knowledge base in a wide variety of topics, but all that knowledge was earned through blood, sweat, tears, and time. he sat down with his game face on and put in the work. that's also why he makes an excellent teacher: he knows what most students will struggle with because he struggled too, and knows through experience how best to overcome them. i headcanon that it contributes to why he's such a good negotiator: he's really good at stripping down information to the essentials and communicating that information effectively and efficiently to others because of his intense study habits.

humble, but not ignorant of his skills. it's pretty impossible to fully divorce yourself from pride in your achievements, and i don't think it's healthy to not feel any pride at all, so i think obi-wan has a very clear understanding of his skillset and how best to use it. i don't think he'd be ignorant of how good he is at something, especially since the direct consequence of his aptitude led him to being a member of the jedi council. pretty hard to be blind to your strengths when you're being asked for your input on topics that directly draw from that knowledge.

averse to healthcare. listen i enjoy obi-wan whump just as much as the next obi-wan stan (the desire to put him in the cosmic salad spinner comes with the territory, i fear) but as a character who grew up in an environment that deeply cares for the well-being of all, and knowing that you cannot help others unless you yourself first have the ability to do so, i can't really see him ignoring injuries outside of combat scenarios. like on the battlefield he's got more pressing concerns than a pesky little shrapnel wound or five, but once the battle's over?? he might not be first in line to the medics but i can't see him avoiding them entirely. an army without a general is working at a sharp disadvantage and i don't think he'd risk his men by neglecting his physical health in that manner. note that i said 'physical'. make of that what you will :)

duty. obi-wan is the definition of a paladin. he takes an oath and by the force he's going to keep it. train the boy? absolutely, qui-gon. whether or not anakin chooses to respect that training is another matter, but he did definitively get knighted! refuse to kill anakin? listen he's handed vader his own ass to him twice post order 66 and each time he did it he did it nonlethally. that takes skill. that takes dedication. exile yourself to tatooine for 19 years and then decide fuck it, we ball, and die after Once Again Deciding Not To Kill Anakin Skywalker? step aside casper, there's a new friendly ghost in town. every time obi-wan commits to something the man COMMITS. you GOTTA respect that grind.

flirty but in the sense that he's going to match the energy someone brings to the table. like he's a negotiator. he knows how to read people and figure out the Vibes. if he thinks the other person will be 1) 100% receptive and 2) will respond with a delightful wit, why the hell not? obi-wan's highest stat is charisma and he's got expertise in persuasion. whether they're allies or not does not factor into this equation. he can have a little flirtation with morally dubious and potentially hostile characters. as a treat.

this has nothing to do with his character but i firmly believe that he and quinlan vos had at LEAST a fling when they were padawans. there is zero evidence to back this up aside from a few comics where they were being goofy teenagers together but i stand by this. it is an unshakeable aspect of obi-wan to me that has only gotten worse with the kenobi show.

no matter what, no matter how terrible or devastating or downright apocalyptic it gets, obi-wan kenobi will never fall to the dark side. never. it won't be easy, but that is a line he has never, and will never cross. i will not hear any "obi-wan touched the dark side during the theed generator fight" slander. if that was true tell me why the force theme was playing during his moment of triumph!!! Would John Williams Lie To Us Like That?? to our face?????

anyways i could go on forever about obi-wan because he is My Ultimate Blorbo but this post is getting super long so i'll leave it there. hope this helped even a little or at the very least was entertaining for you to read <3

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

Batfam members and what they’d get cancelled for/their apology

Just watched ItalianBach’s youtuber apology tier list video and inspiration STRUCK.

𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹

Bruce: there are SOOOOOO many things. So so so many things. He has been cancelled so many times that there is a blog dedicated to keeping track of BW apologies. the user is probs something like bruceissosorryagain. Personal favorite was when he ruined a pretty popular and well liked socialite by knocking over a champagne tower directly onto her great grandmother’s wedding gown. For some god foresaken reason the champagne had been dyed red to match the victorian vampire aesthetic of the wedding?? The hashtag “BWmeetscarrie” will forever haunt wayne manor.

Dick: He was literally a cop in 2020. his goose was GOT. He was trying to prove that not all cops are bad by posting to that macklemore song with the little black fist painted on his cheek and BLM on the other. u know the one. It didn’t go over very well. Even macklemore commented “c’mon bro..” This was followed by a 45 minute long apology video explaining how he now understands the harm it can cause to lump all marginalized groups into one category and how he regrets his action severely and yada yada yada hes so sorry, at the end there was a 2 minute long acrobatic performance to the song Nina Cried Power by Hozier. He also donated to several black charities following the whole ordeal. Didn’t leave his house for a week.

Jason: Ran a rage bait account on tiktok when he was like 13-15 where he posted cringe alpha sigma male mogging content, and someone somehow found out it was him, and his apology wasn’t so much an apology as much as it was “I’m sorry you were stupid enough to believe the bs I was posting, and I’m sorry i got caught. Fuck you guys btw now I have to find a new hobby 👎🏽.” The videos are still saved to his phone when he needs a good chuckle.

Tim: Said BTS was ass and BP was even worse (he tweeted it out of boredom, knowing it was gonna be bad, but not knowing exactly how bad). Armies and blinks tried to dox him MUTIPLE times but tim keeps it on lock so his info was safe. There was a boycott for WE so Bruce made him post and official apology. It was half assed and there are kpop accounts to this day that say “Fuck tim drake” in their bio. Either that or he got “cancelled” on some Jynxzi stuff. Like the whole situation to a T. Maybe both are true. He also had a ukelele in his apology vid.

Damian: called an old lady a “stupid ugly stinky bitch” on national television because she “asked father too many questions.” (it was an interview) Jaws were dropped. Nay, jaws were dislocated. Damian was too young at the time to have social media, let alone post his own apology, so bruce did it for him and sent that poor old lady a lot of cash.

Duke: Unironically said “if it’s snowing I’m not going.” the dudebros thought that shit was hilarious. No one else laughed. Duke was serious, but he felt so bad about offending people that there were tears in the apology. At least thats the story he’s currently running with.

Cass: A video of her saying the F slur surfaced. Her apology was her coming out.

Steph: Said something offensive without realizing it and didnt know what she did until she tweeted saying “why is everyone being so wierd around me?? did I do something wrong??” everyones response is either “girl please bffr” or genuine actually helpful input. She apologized less than a day later in a quick and concise apology vid.

Barbara: compared herself to marsha P johnson in an interview and when she was asked to elaborate she simply could not. The truth is, she had no idea who that woman was other than the fact that she was a good, cool woman so she was like yea omg im so her. Her apology was also a mini documentary about Marsha P Johnsons life.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

With a kiss we will paint a flawless view (part 2)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. This is part two of two. NSFW!!

This fic is dedicated to @madbadpadawan. 

This fic is part of the Beast in Black series, and the sequel of Come close and whisper my true name.

*****

Tomorrow dawns and Mihawk has disappeared.

You wake up nine hours later, after one of the only nights of interrupted sleep you have been blessed with in the last six months; pleasantly rested, you reach towards the other half of the bed, searching for your lover’s firm and warm body… and you don’t find it. The room is empty save for you, you realise as you open your eyes and slowly, awkwardly sit up on the bed, and no sound that could betray Mihawk’s presence in your study or in the bathroom can be heard. 

A look at the clock on your bedside table makes you realise how late it is; Mihawk, who occasionally treats himself to a morning spent lounging in bed with you, must have raised to make you rest as long as you could. He has probably eaten breakfast already, you think as you stand from the bed, distinctly ungraceful as usual, but after you’ve spoken to your mother regarding a request you have received from the city’s prefect and written a few important letters, you can reach him in the gardens to keep him company as he trains with Yoru, and discuss the matter you have avoided for two months…

You’ve almost reached the bathroom’s door when you notice the folded piece of paper on the chest of drawers, with your name written on it in a calligraphy you would know anywhere. You take the note, open it, and your good mood evaporates.

Beloved (name),

You look so beautiful sleeping in my arms, leaving your bed is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Forgive me, but I have to leave for a few days for a very important matter; I promise I’ll be back soon, before our baby comes, and you will understand everything. 

Please take care of you both. I love you more than I can express in words.

Yours forever,

Mihawk.

The tenderness in those words is intense enough to move you, but the content of the brief message hits you like a metaphorical punch in the belly.

He has left. You can’t believe it… he said he’d remain for the rest of your pregnancy, to make up for the time he had spent away and because he wanted to make sure you’d be alright, well look after, and now this. Where in the world - where the fuck has he gone, and why?!

Your heart is spinning, so much that you have to quickly return to the bed and sit; you know stress could harm your baby, so you force yourself to breathe, slowly and deeply as the doctor has taught you, as you re-read the content of the piece of paper in your shaking hands. A very important matter, he wrote, without explaining further. Is this a Warlord mission? He has been challenged to a duel by another swordsman? Has he returned to Kuraigana to take care of some personal business? Whatever the case you would have supported him, encouraged him to go wherever he needed to; the last thing you want is to keep him chained to you or to stop him from pursuing his interests. Why didn’t he tell you? Didn’t he trust you? Or he simply thought there was no reason for you to know?

You will understand everything, he also wrote, which does comforts you a little in the following days, since apparently Mihawk does intend to tell you where he went in time, but only partially; he means to stay away for a few days, and you know that nothing will ever stop your lover from returning to you, not even the whole Marines army or the end of the world, but sometimes accidents happen, and even the strongest swordsman in the world can get hurt, or sick, unable to ask for help. What if the Marines have recruited your lover for another mission, and find a way to keep him away for longer than he expected? What if something happens to your baby, and Mihawk has no chance to meet them before they…?

You’re now eight months pregnant; still early technically, but many children are born a month in advance, and while you don’t technically need Mihawk to give birth, since your mother has sent for the best midwives of the kingdom and will be there as well, to keep you company, the mere idea of having to go through it without your lover’s solid presence only a door away scares you. You know how excited he is to become a father, and that he has done his utmost to comfort and support you in the last two months; not to have him there feels wrong in some indescribable but persistent way: if your little family is not together at the beginning, who knows what could happen in the future…?

You’ve never felt so alone in your life and, worst of all, you can’t even find comfort in the person who has always been there for you. Your mother is the only person in all the island to know where Mihawk has gone, and why; she admits that on that morning, after leaving your bedroom while you were still fast asleep, your lover spoke to her, a brief but important conversation whose content she has sworn not to reveal to you. “You’re going to know soon enough.” she tells you, deaf to your protestations; while her expression remains serious, her eyes are sparkling with a joy you dearly wish you could share, rather than being tormented by grief and fear “You have no reason to worry, my love; your man is fine, and will return soon enough. Everything will be clear.”

Everything will be clear; you will understand everything. Why do the people around you insist on keeping the truth from you? Don’t they see that, rather than reassuring, their words only serve to frustrate and worry you, in the moment of your life in which you need it the least?!

You know you are overreacting, that you have every reason to trust both Mihawk and your mother, the two people in the world who love you the most, and that it costs you nothing to be patient and wait for them to explain what they are plotting, but you can’t help it; naturally rational and clear-headed as you have always been, ever since you’ve become aware of your pregnancy you feel completely prey of your emotions, afraid of every little thing, unable to find joy in an experience many describe as the happiest of their lives. 

You’ve always been able to take care of yourself; you’ve risked your life countless times, and you’ve always emerged victorious, even when the people trying to make away with you were the worst scum of the sea and outlaws with the blood of dozens of victims on their hands. While aware of the danger, you’ve never trembled; now, on the other hand, you have to force yourself to take a brief walk in the gardens, fearing a few minutes of strolling could harm your baby. You feel fat, and old, and unattractive; no wonder Mihawk decided to leave, you find yourself thinking sometimes, and while you know he would never betray you, you couldn’t fully blame him if he found himself looking at other, younger and fitter, women…

“It’s going to be alright.” you murmur to your child, holding your belly and wishing they were already here, safe and sound in your arms as you try to reassure them like you wish someone were doing with you “Your father will be here soon; he promised, and he never breaks his word. Wait until he’s here before you come out, alright? I know I can do it on my own, but… I don’t want to.”

And in the end Mihawk does come back, as he had promised he would. Today you have awoken alone in your bed for the fourth time; it’s the middle of the afternoon, and sitting on a bench in the gardens you try to focus on the letter you’re writing, the paper placed on a thick book resting on the top of your belly. It is quite an important missive, the answer to a loan request you received from the lord of a nearby island, but you can’t focus, your head hurts and you feel dead tired even if you had just woken up from a three hour nap.  

A sigh escapes your lips, and you’re wondering whether you’re up to finish this little task or you’d better return inside and go back to bed, when suddenly you feel it… you feel him.

He has returned. He hasn’t called your name, nor did you hear the sound of his footsteps; you have simply perceived his presence, like he could perceive yours if your places had been exchanged, not unlike the two opposite poles of a magnet; you naturally react to each other, a shiver on the back of your head that warns you not of an oncoming danger but of the presence of your lover.

And that shiver you feel it now, and a moment later the book with your half-finished letter on it falls to the ground as you grab the backrest of the bench to stand, turn, and finally see him. 

Mihawk is standing maybe three steps from you; he is still, apparently content with just looking at you, but smiles when he sees you turn to face him. “(name).” he murmurs as he moves to approach “My love, are you…?”

“Where the hell have you been?!”

Your lover stops, clearly taken aback; he has seen you upset, angry or worried many times since you first became acquainted, but you have never raised your voice, screaming at him as if he had committed some grave crime. “(name), darling, I…”

“Don’t darling me, Mihawk! Do you have any idea what the last few days have been for me?” you ask when you are finally face to face; you are still screaming, long enough for the residents of the fortress to hear, but you don’t care; you’re beside yourself, relief and irritation fighting inside you, and while you never seriously thought Mihawk had abandoned you, you want him to understand that you needed him by your side, or at least to explain fully the reason for his absence rather than simply leaving a note “I had no idea where you were, and when you would come back! My mother would not tell me anything! Do you realise your child could be born any day? What place in the world could you desire to be at rather than here? You had said you would be by my side, and one day I wake up and you’re not there! Do you realise how it made me feel? Knowing that you could be gone with no explanation the day I simply sleep a little longer?”

You sob, not daring to meet your lover’s eyes. “I’m pregnant, Mihawk.” you add; he obviously knows very well, if only because you’re twenty-five pounds heavier than normal, but you want him to understand that the presence of your child has not only affected your body, but your mind as well “And I know it’s a perfectly natural process and I have received the best care, but I am scared. Terrified. Scared of what could happen to me, and to lose our baby, to discover they are not healthy, or to lose you. I don’t want to sound like a brat, and I know you’ve already reassured me a thousand times… but I’m not at my most rational right now. And now I feel horrible because I’m screaming at you and you don’t deserve it, and…”

And then you start to cry.

Which is terrifying, because you know if there is something Mihawk cannot stand are shows of weakness, and even though your relationship is way too deep and close for his opinion of you to change because of a tantrum, you wish your stoic, cold-blooded lover could respect you as an equal as well as love you. 

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean…” you stammer, and a moment later Mihawk’s hands are resting on your shoulders.

“Don’t; I’m the one who should apologise.” he murmurs softly, his beautiful yellow eyes full of pain “May I?”

You rush to nod, and a moment later you are held in your lover’s comforting embrace, his arms closed around your shoulders as he kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry.” you murmur again, leaning against his chest; you’ve never been so tired, so much that you could fall asleep standing “It was unfair to accuse you; you’ve always been present and attentive to both me and the baby, and I know you will keep to be.”

“Of course I will; I have told you nothing will ever take me away from you, and I intend to keep my promise.” Mihawk points out gently “I… must have underestimated the effect my absence would have; I thought you’d be fine, since it was only for a few days and it’s still a month before the baby comes…”

“I am fine; nothing bad happened, but to wake up and not find you there has been a very unpleasant surprise. I don’t want to keep you chained to me, or on the island; I know you have your life and your duties, and you’re free to pursue them. Just… warn me the next time, alright? For my peace of mind.”

Mihawk promises he will; he’s more handsome than ever, the cut of his black coat emphasising the width of his shoulders, his short hair tousled by the wind, and you smile when he kisses you, not on the forehead this time. “So am I forgiven?”

“You are; and I’ll try to keep the tantrums to a minimum from now on. Are you alright? Did you… do what you had to?”

Your lover nods in response, suddenly tense. “I did. And… it’s something that does concern you. Can we talk for a moment?”

You lead him to the bench, where you and your lover sit (with a bit of an effort on your part) hand in hand; you wait for Mihawk to speak, and in the end he does, not exactly hesitating but oddly careful as he chooses his words.

“I didn’t leave for a Warlord business or any other matter related to piracy; I… I went home, to the house I was born in and lived until I was seven.” he explains “I don’t think I ever told you, but my father threw me and my older sister out of the house; the two of us were left with almost nothing, even though years later Yoru bought the house back from him, and she lived there until… until she passed.”

You nod mutely, only partially surprised; in the many years of your relationship your lover has rarely discussed his childhood and family with you, but you do know how close he and his sister were and, in turn, how much he despised his father. 

“As I said, my father didn’t even grant us an income to live by; as far he was concerned, we could starve to death in the streets, but Yoru did inherit a few things from our mother, things that were legally hers even though our father did try to claim them for himself, to gift the woman he married as soon as he had gotten rid of us.”

The more you hear about the old lord Dracule the less you like him; no wonder your lover doesn’t like to talk about his past, even now that he knows there is no secret he can’t share with you.

“Yoru feared she would have to sell those valuables to support us, but fortunately it was never necessary; her things were still at our old home, where no one has ever been since… since she died. Including me.” 

You take his hands in yours. “She is buried there, is she not?” you ask in a murmur; your lover nods, and he doesn’t tell you how it was, how it felt to see his beloved sister’s grave for the first time in years, to be reminded, as if he needed to, of the fact she might have been alive if he had been there to protect her - a guilt your lover has borne in his heart since he was barely an adult, and that he will never allow anyone to release him from.

“She is. Her rose garden has grown, the vines and the flowers almost completely covering her headstone. I think she would have liked it.”

You remain silent, still completely in the dark regarding the reason for your lover’s sudden absence but confident you’ll know soon; perhaps, you think, he returned to his family’s home to take some memento to gift to your child, some old toy or family keepsake he wants his heir to inherit.

You’re only partially correct. 

“Anyway, I went there to look for something, and I did find it.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes.” Mihawk tells you “Please.”

You do, more and more confused, and from the sound that reaches your ears you realise he has moved - stood, perhaps, and of course Mihawk is not the sort of person who would simply depart leaving you there, but you really don’t understand why…

“Open.”

You do, and everything becomes clear.

His having returned to his family home, to retrieve something that had belonged to his mother and sister - two women, like you.

His having spoken to your mother -since your father has passed- before leaving. 

Mihawk is not standing; he is kneeling, in front of you, a tiny velvet box in his raised hands. 

“Lady (full name), wi…”

“Yes!” you exclaim, and then slap a hand on your mouth, blushing furiously. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not.” you stammer, unable to believe your own blunder; this is one of the most important conversations of your life, and you interrupted your lover as he proposed! “I… please, say what you have to, I shouldn’t have, I… I am just so happy…”

Mihawk grins; you can almost physically see tension abandon his body as he is assured of your answer. “(Name).” he starts again; no title, no second names you’ve never used, simply (name), because that is what you’ve always been to him, not a noblewoman, not the future ruler of a wealthy fief, but a woman, a friend, a partner, someone he has come to trust and respect and love, and who he wants to share his future with. He smiles, or at least you think he does, because tears have filled your eyes and your exceptional eyesight is for once failing you… “Body and soul, heart and sword, I am yours and I swear I will be forever. Having you as the mother of my child fills my life with joy; but having you as my wife would make me the happiest man on land and sea. (name), will you marry me?”

You accept.

A moment later you’re embracing, holding each other for a long moment, simply enjoying the feeling of each other’s body in your arms - a feeling of belonging, of pure and perfect syntony between two people who have chosen each other, and who know love is only one of the many things that bind them: trust, loyalty, respect - that is what you feel for Mihawk, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. In the end, your lover finally slips the ring -the ring of his mother, the ring of his sister; you’re the third woman to wear it, and you love him at least as much as the two who came before you did- on your finger; it’s beautiful, a golden band with an elegant oval stone that, Mihawk says, is the same colour as your eyes.

“It fits you perfectly; I knew it.” he murmurs as he kisses your fingers; you have never seen him smile like that “I hope you understand this means I’ll have to move here permanently; married couples do live together after all.”

“Well, I’ll have to put up with it…”

“On second thought, I can always go back to Kuraigana and keep our baby for half the time…”

“Don’t you dare.” you murmur, locking your arms behind his neck “You’re mine now; and I’ll never let you go. Is that alright, lord consort?”

Mihawk assures you that he can work with that, and then he’s kissing you, your first kiss as an engaged couple, which makes it even sweeter and more special than all the ones that preceded it. Blissfully happy, you’re about to tell your lover -your fiancé- how happy his decision to come live with you makes you, but you don’t have the time. Mihawk suddenly breaks the kiss to look at you. “Are you… alright?”

“Of course; never been better.” you answer, somewhat surprised “Why?”

“I think you… had a little accident…”

Your gaze follows his downward, to the small leakage falling between your feet from under your skirt; you blush furiously, unable to believe it had to happen now, that you’ll forever remember this day as the one you got engaged in and then immediately peed on yourself, but this is not a simple accident due to pressure of the baby on your bladder, this is something else…

“Mihawk?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I need you to go call the doctor and tell him to get ready.” you tell him calmly - too calmly, perhaps “It seems your child will celebrate our engagement with us.”

No woman in your family has ever died in childbirth; it was your mother who told you, no doubt in the hope that the thought of being part of such a positive streak would reassure you, and it did… even though you also couldn’t help thinking that a series of successes does have to end sooner or later, it’s a simple matter of probability, and perhaps you are doomed to be the one who fails where all your ancestors have succeeded.

“It’s too early. It can’t happen now… it’s still too early!” you keep saying as Mihawk’s strong arms carry you to your bedroom, as if it changed anything, as if pointing out the untimeliness of their arrival could convince your baby to go back to your womb and remain there for a month more “I can’t do it, I can’t…”

Nobody answers; nobody even pays attention to your words, too focused as they are on the needs of your body. Your mother, who rushed to your side as soon as she was informed of the impending birth of her grandchild, moves away the duvet, making space for Mihawk to gently depose you on the bed, while the doctor places the heavy bag with his tools on the bedside table. It’s only the two of them; your mother had arranged for two other physicians, specialised on childbirth and with extensive experience in delivering healthy babies, to come take care of you, as well as several experienced midwives, but given the fact your child has decided to be born a month earlier than expected, none of them is here at the fortress - or on the island, only a call away. You do trust your doctor, who has taken care of your and your mother’s health for many years, but having only him and his assistants, both younger than you, attending you fills your heart with dread.

“Help the lady (name) with her dress.” the doctor orders, but as the two assistants move to approach, Mihawk stops them with a peremptory gesture of his hand.

“I’m scared.” you murmur; that is not something you admit easily, especially with your lover, whose level-headedness in times of danger you always admired and envied, but this is a moment you’ve never experienced before, and you’re terrified, for your baby and for yourself as well “Mihawk, I can’t do it, I’m sorry…”

“But you have to.” your lover gently points out as he takes your face in his hands “You know it, the delivery of a baby is not something you can’t stop or postpone. Clearly our child is as impatient to meet us as we are to meet them.”

The thought does make you smile - only for a moment; you grasp his hands in yours, feeling like a castaway who clings to a rock in the middle of a stormy sea. “If I were to die…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Not saying it won’t make it less likely. If I were to die, please take care of our baby; it’s not their fault, but sometimes… parents resent them… I know you’re not that sort of man, but I don’t want our child to pay the price for what we have done…”

“Mihawk.” your mother intervenes softly before your lover has time to answer, resting a hand on his back “You need to go now. There’s nothing else you can do for her.”

As he faces your mother’s quiet determination, even your lover, who is not afraid to argue with the Marines’ commanding officers and has faced the most dangerous pirates of the Four Seas without trembling, seems unable to argue. “Take care of her.”

“Of course; I’ve done it since she was born.” your mother points out gently, and your lover nods in thanks before turning to you once more to kiss your forehead.

“I love you.” he tells you “I know how strong you are; please, darling, for our baby.”

Your heart breaks as you see the door of your room close behind him. Your mother, busy thoroughly washing her hands and arms in a basin, returns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it gently. “Well then, let’s deliver this baby.” she then says briskly “If it’s going to be the same as when I delivered you, we’ll hear them crying in ten minutes.”

You don’t know how long you’ve been here; it feels like days, but the sun has barely begun setting out of the window, which means your delivery has been going on for a few hours at most - the most painful and terrifying of your life. 

You do not hear them crying in ten minutes.

You’re bathed in sweat, your underskirt (the only item of clothing you are wearing at the moment apart from your bra; your mother has offered to help you put a nightgown on, to preserve your modesty, but you were already too in pain to care) soaked in blood and who knows what other bodily fluids as you scream, in pain and fear and frustration, feeling your own cramps-stricken body revolting against you.

At first it seemed like your baby had changed their mind, preferring not to be born after announcing their arrival a month in advance; you have been asked to stand, walk around the room and then return to bed twice already, and while your contractions are closer and closer, nothing has happened. 

Your child is breech, you have heard the doctor whisper to your mother, and then something else that has made the usually calm and self-possessed woman go white in the face, something that has to do with the umbilical cord…

Oh, Gods, you understand after a moment; your baby could end up strangled if you force them to pass through your canal. You order yourself not to push, which is easier said than done, given the fact your body is screaming in pain, begging for permission to release the foreign body that is causing it so much torment. 

You can’t remember the last time you ate; your mother has given you some water to drink with a straw, which helped placate the dryness in your mouth, but you feel weaker by the minute - too weak, perhaps, to help your child, too weak to fight the blood loss that has filled the room with an unpleasant metallic stench.

“Is Mihawk still there?” you ask, your voice reduced to a whisper. You’ve screamed so long, and so loud, your throat hurts, and your mother nods; you have seen her smile when she saw the ring on your finger, but you didn’t have the time to talk about it. You’ll later learn that Mihawk didn’t exactly ask for her permission to propose to you; given how much he respects your strength and independence, the last thing he wanted was to treat you as an object whose ownership your mother would formally hand over him, regardless of your opinion; well aware of how close the two of you are, and that having her oppose your union would have pained you enormously, he simply asked for her blessing, that your mother was happy to grant, knowing equally well how much your lover cares about you. 

You’re engaged. Your child is being born. The most perfect happiness is so close you can almost touch it, but still out of your reach; you don’t want to lose all of it, you’ve never wanted something so avidly and intensely in your life, but you have the distinct feeling that the matter is not fully in your hands, and no matter how much you fight and try to resist, things are about to get very ugly soon…

“He is; he’s walking up and down the corridor like a lion in his cage.” your mother answers in a brave attempt at levity “He has asked me to tell you he can come in, if it pleases you.”

I know how strong you are; please, darling, for our baby.

“No. This is something I have to do by myself; and I don’t want him to see me like this.”

Your mother seems ready to argue, probably to point out the baby is Mihawk’s as well as yours and your lover will not blame you for wanting him close in such a difficult moment, but soon after you’re screaming again, blood pouring out of your body. You know it’s impossible, but you could swear you can feel your childcry in pain, and it’s the most horrifying, heart-breaking sensation you’ve ever experienced. 

It hurts so much, mother. Why are you doing this to me? It’s not my fault, I didn’t ask to be born; why are you making me suffer? Will you not help me?

You do want to help them, you wish you could tell your baby as the doctor and his assistants try desperately to free them of the noose around their neck; there’s nothing you wish more, even if it meant sacrificing your life; you just don’t know how, and maybe you’re not strong enough to fight for them…

You look at your mother, paler than you’ve ever seen her, who holds your hand; simply turning in her direction makes your head spin. “I’m not feeling very…” 

You faint. 

“Hello.”

The man smiles at you, a smile you’re pretty sure you recognise even though you don’t know from where, as he sees you approach, walking unsurely in the void that surrounds you. 

“Where are we? What place is this?” you ask, without returning the greeting - quite unkind of you, probably, but you’ve never been so confused in your life. 

Rather than walking, you feel yourself floating, unable to see a path or a floor under your feet. All around you shadows shift, sinuous and impalpable like the silk veils of a dancer; diaphanous as they are, you still can’t see through them, nor around nor above or under you. They surround you, gently advancing or backing away to make space as you move; you perceive no threat, no danger, as if you were surrounded by waves as you swam into open water, but when one of them brushes against your arm you feel yourself shivering. Cold, your mind supplies vaguely; grey; sick, the sensation too different from anything you’ve ever experienced to compare. 

The man waits until you have reached him before answering; he’s still smiling, even though melancholy fills his eyes. He’s younger than you, dressed as a pirate, a Log Pose on his wrist. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I am not.” you quickly answer, instinctively feeling the need to prove yourself to this stranger “I just want to know where I am, so that I can return home.”

“I’m afraid that might be easier said than done. Do you know what happened to you?”

You struggle to answer, trying to think back to the last thing you remember. “Well… I was giving birth… but there was something wrong with my baby’s position, I felt so weak and I had lost a lot of blood…”

And then the truth hits you. “Oh… I died, didn’t I?” you ask, lowering your gaze to your stomach; you can’t see your body very well, at once not naked and not covered by any specific item of clothing, but your belly feels empty, void - a surprisingly unpleasant sensation. “But my baby is not here, which means…”

“Your baby is alright; for now. And you’re not dead, (name); look here.”

Before you can ask the man how he knows your name (have you met? You’re almost sure you know him, even though you’ve never seen him) his pointed finger draws your gaze towards a structure in front of you, that you had somehow failed to notice until now: it’s a stone arch, perhaps thrice as tall as you and equally wide, deceptively innocuous in its natural immobility, the stone’s surface covered by glyphs. You soon perceive a pull towards it, invisible hands pushing you towards it and the unknown opening at the other side, but you dig in your heels, already aware of its real significance.

“This is the threshold.” the man explains, confirming your fears “To what, there are a thousand names to describe it: afterlife, heaven, hell… you can call it however you like. It’s the place where people go after they die, and since you’re not fully dead, but on the brink between this life and the other, you can see it even though you haven’t passed it.”

“But you did?”

“I did; many years ago. But when I felt you were approaching, I decided to come meet you.”

You’re talking to a dead person, while half-dead yourself; it’s without a doubt the weirdest experience of your life, but at the same time you can’t tarry on it, too focused as you are on the problem at hand.

“If I haven’t passed the threshold… does it mean that I can go back, live?” you inquire, and your interlocutor nods, serious as he regards you. 

“You can.” he concedes “But you need to be aware of what your choice involves. If you let go now, you’ll die, but your baby will live; with the matter of your survival out of the way, the doctor will be able to save them. But if you go back… I can’t tell what is going to happen; they might survive, they might not, and the same can happen to you.”

“I see…”

Silence falls as you consider your options; you can only ensure your child’s survival if you let yourself die now; if you persist, there’s no knowing what is going to happen.

“If I die and they survive… what will become of the baby?” you ask in a whisper, and the man looks at you kindly. His kindness, this is what you remember the most, as well as his smile; this is how you recognise him.

“They will be fine. Your lover will never forget you, and never love again, but the presence of the child in his life will comfort him, and your baby will one day become the ruler of your island, and a great fighter. You’ll be proud of them, (name).”

Mihawk. You hadn’t forgotten about your lover, you never could, but hearing the man mention him brings tears to your eyes. You don’t want to lose him; even if you’re already been together for years you still have so many more in front of you, years you want to spend by his side, as you raise your child together and enjoy the beauty and intimacy of your love. Lines like I can’t live without you and If I lose him my life isn’t worth living belong to romance novels, not real life, but you need him, you need to be with him, because Mihawk is yours and you are his, and perhaps you are not owed a future together, but you’re determined to fight the Gods themselves to earn it.

Unfortunately, your decision doesn’t concern only you and Mihawk. Could you sacrifice your life to save your baby? You certainly can; you’ve wanted this child for so many years, and you know they’ll be looked after. The mere prospect of not seeing them grow, and never seeing Mihawk again, breaks your heart; but you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t put your baby’s well-being before yours, regardless of your chances to conceive again. 

This is what you need to do; you could decide on the spur of the moment or reflect on it for a whole day, you’d know the best thing to do anyway. On the other hand…

I know how strong you are.

He knows, because you are; or at least you can be, if something important is at stake.

Please, darling, for our baby.

Mihawk has asked you to look after your child, and you want the same, now and for every day you have left to live: you will protect them, you decide, ensuring they are born safe and sound and then protecting them from any danger they may meet. Up to now you’ve allowed your fears to control you, the painful memories of the loss of your firstborn and the dread of having to fight a battle in which none of your weapons (including your beloved derringer, as usual hidden behind your pillow) could help you survive; but now you have to be strong, for yourself and for your family. You know that people don’t decide to die on the birthing bed, nor is the matter fully in their hands, and you can be the most headstrong and determined woman who ever lived, that still wouldn’t exempt you from the risk…

“I’ll go back.” you announce, and the shadows around you seem to draw back for a moment “I don’t want to put my baby in danger, but… I can’t abandon them, or Mihawk; I’ll survive for their sake as well as my own.”

Your interlocutor doesn’t seem surprised by your decision; he simply smiles, and moves to keep facing you as you take a step back, away from him, away from the threshold, and then another, at first struggling against the pull and then more and more easily. 

“Thank you.” you murmur; you wish you had more time, but having met him, and that he decided to come talk to you when you needed him the most, counts more than you could express in words “I miss you so much, every day; I wish you were there with me, especially today.”

“I’m always with you, (name); always, even though you can’t see me.” he reassures you; his smile has turned sad as you both prepare to say good-bye, but there is pride in his eyes “Give your mother my love. Farewell, my darling!”

“Good-bye, father!”

Another step back and the shadows no longer envelop you; there is a light behind you, a tiny but persistent spot of brightness towards which you start to run, all too aware the time at your disposal is running out. 

“She’s awake!”

The cry is your mother’s, still by your side as you gasp for air as if you were resurfacing after an immersion of several minutes; you meet her eyes, full of tears for what she expected to be the last minutes of your life, and you can’t blame her for it: you’ve never felt so weak, blood-loss and exhaustion having depleted your strength, but you still manage to smile.

“My love, w…”

“I’ve seen father.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen him, mother; he felt I needed help and he came to see me.” you explain, and your mother, who should perhaps think pain and fear have made you delirious or that you were simply dreaming, smiles “He sends his love.”

“Of course he does. (name); I…”

“I’m dying, aren’t I?”

She doesn’t answer; she doesn’t need to, because the stench of blood -your blood, the blood you have lost- fills the room, and while you can still feel your baby move inside you, struggling to breathe despite the noose around their neck, you can also perceive your own body is about to give in, admitting defeat in the face of prostration and pain.

It’s not too late yet though; at least, you’re not ready to accept it is.

The moon has risen out of the window of your room, not full but almost, a bright crescent in a clear but almost starless sky; as you turn to regard it, everything becomes clear.

“Mother, will you please open the window? I don’t want to smash through it.”

“My lady, don’t.” the doctor warns you as your mother is already moving; your blood covers his arms up to his elbows “It’s folly.”

“It’s the only way.”

“Shifting will not solve anything; your cub will still have the cord around their neck, and at that point you’ll be alone, no one will help you. Please, let us try to…”

But you don’t. You know what you’re feeling is natural: many of your kind feel the urge to shift in moments of danger, instinctively hoping to fight their way out of whatever problem or threat they are facing, but it rarely helps, and it surely wouldn’t help in your situation. What you need is the help of trained physicians, with their tools and medicines…

The window is wide open, the cool night breeze coming in. Your mother stares at you, her eyes full of love, fear, and trust. “Go, my love.” she says “Do what you have to.”

You do.

If you thought standing while weighted down by your pregnant belly was hard, that was nothing compared to this; you grab the headpost and heave yourself from the bed, crying in pain as your entire body protests at the effort, and then the shift envelops you, an only partial relief since the wolf can, after all, suffer as much as a human can, but that you nonetheless welcome. You wait to be steady on your four paws, your tail proudly raised as the fur covers your entire body, before dashing towards the window that you jump over, soon leaving the fortress behind you. 

You can feel your baby, your cub, in your belly, struggling to breathe, fighting to live; you run blindly, crossing the torch-lit empty courtyard as you lift your head to the moon and howl, a piercing, pained but fierce sound that fills the still air of the night. 

No day in this life has ever been as long as this. Mihawk has waited for hours, pacing back and forth in the corridor, unable to ignore his lover’s desperate cries of pain, which got weaker and weaker as she did. One of the doctor’s assistants, who had momentarily left the room to retrieve some tools, told him that the baby (his baby, their baby) was breech and it might be impossible to make them shift in a more favourable position, which in turn would put both them and (name)’s survival at risk. 

His mother died in childbirth. Mihawk doesn’t know exactly what happened, because the matter was too painful for Yoru to discuss, and he has never exactly considered himself guilty of her death, but what if history is repeating itself? His mother first, and then his lover, not considering his sister; are all the women in his life destined to die, either because of him or because he is not there to protect them? Perhaps the baby is a girl as well…

Mihawk sighs, covering his face with his hands as he forces himself to remain lucid. His lover and baby are not going to die simply because his mother and sister have, and while there’s nothing he can do to help, he needs to be strong for both (name) and the child; he knows it’s not unusual for a delivery to last hours, and she is strong and healthy, and well-assisted. Everything is going to be alright…

And then he hears (name) howling. 

He stands quickly and walks to the closest window, out of which he can see a wolf running; despite the darkness, despite the distance, he’d know her anywhere, just like he recognized her call. (name) has turned, but why? Giving birth in human form is surely easier, and he doubts wolf midwives exist…

“You should go.”

The lady Veressa is standing on the door of (name)’s room, both her hands and dress splashed with blood. “You should go after her.” she clarifies “If there’s someone she needs, it’s you.”

“But there’s nothing I can do.” Mihawk points out; he feels helpless, maybe for the first time since that terrible day when he lost Yoru, and it’s destroying him “I can’t help her.”

His lover’s mother looks at him, exhausted but suddenly stern, her head tilted to the side; she has never looked more like (name). “Can’t you?”

Mihawk stares at her; a moment later he has followed his lover’s example in opening the window and jumping over it. He runs like he has never run in his life, plunging in the night’s darkness as his lover’s howling guides him forward. 

Mate, he thinks; he’s still human, but he’s already gotten used to thinking of her like that, at least in the privacy of his heart. Wait for me, mate; I am coming.

He expected (name) to run towards the gardens, since that is a spot she is used to frequent when she feels upset or melancholic, and wolves naturally prefer natural places to man-built constructions, but she didn’t; when Mihawk finally reaches her, his mate has hidden in the small constructions site on the outskirts of the fortress’ borders, where the stables have been recently demolished to make space for a larger building. It’s a highly unsafe place for a pregnant woman, but small, enclosed and dark as it is, it’s probably the closest thing to a den his lover has found, in which to find some safety.

Mihawk lingers out of the building to take care of his clothes and then shifts, fortunately without any hassle; (name) told him he has learned to control the turning quicker than any other adult she has ever met, a compliment Mihaw was secretly flattered by. A year after he and his lover drank each other’s blood, the sensation of his bones changing shape and fur growing all over his body is still peculiar but not painful, and as Mihawk raises his head to look at his moon, his partially colour blind eyes reverently filled with its beauty, he feels alive, and strong, and scared.

He whines softly as he advances into the partially demolished building, his eyes easily adapting to the lack of light, and (name) answers in kind, her voice filled with anguish. She is nestled against the corner of the room, lying on her side to relieve pressure from her belly, as she yelps in shock and pain; she licks Mihawk’s face when he approaches, and gladly lets him do the same to her, but she’s in pain, scared for what she fears is going to happen.

It hurts, mate, she confesses, our cub is leaving. Maybe I am leaving too. I don’t know what to do.

Mihawk lies next to her; when (name)’s rests her head on his back, he can feel her trembling. You will not leave. Nor will our cub, he gently reassures her. I will not allow it.

They huddle together, her pregnant belly safely nestled between their bodies, waiting for the night to pass.

It is so tiny.

He is, Mihawk mentally corrects himself. He’s unquestionably a male, a baby boy who finally decided to be born once his exhausted mother had no longer the strength for a single push more; the shifting has caused his tiny head to slip out of the umbilical cord wrapped around it, and the baby came out naturally, crying with all the strength of his small lungs. He makes others wait for him, rather than the other way around, Mihawk thinks as he gently lulls the baby in his arms, sitting cross-legged on the stables’ dirty floor; just like me.

“Is he alright?” (name) asks weakly; she has shifted back to human after the delivery, they all have, the wolf cub instinctively turning just as his mother did. His eyes are the same colour as (name’s, he hasn’t inherited his father’s hawk-gaze, but Mihawk could swear the baby favours him. He’s the smallest, most fragile creature he has ever seen, and he can’t stop looking at him, at his soft skin and tiny hands, at the way he has screamed and cried loud enough to wake the dead for a few minutes before falling asleep against his father’s chest.

Father. He has known for two months, and still can’t wrap his head around it. He is a father, he is this child’s father, and his life will never be the same again…

“Mihawk?”

“Forgive me. He’s perfectly healthy.” he reassures her; they will have to return to the fortress soon, both to make sure mother and baby receive the proper care and because their den lacks even the most basic standards of hygiene and security, but they deserve this moment for themselves… the three of them, a couple and their child, a mother, a father and a son, a small corner of peace and perfection in an otherwise chaotic world “Ten fingers, ten toes, and he reacts to visual and auditory stimuli. He’s absolutely perfect, my love; you’ve been amazing.”

(name) smiles softly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t be; I’m sure what you went through was worse.”

They share a smile as Mihawk passes the baby to (name), and the child rests his head against the softness of his mother’s chest, gurgling happily. Mihaws moves to put his arm around his lover’s shoulders; she smiles at him, beautiful and radiant and relieved, as they share a kiss. 

“We have a son, Mihawk.” she murmurs, and he smiles. 

“We do.” he agrees “And I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

“Are you awake, my love?”

“I think so.” you murmur as you cover a yawn behind your hand, feeling finally well-rested after what has probably been the longest day of your life; then, as you immediately perceive the absence of someone who until a few hours ago didn’t exist yet: “Where is the baby?”

“He’s sleeping as well.” your mother explains as she quickly crosses the room in the direction of the window, to once more open it and let fresh air enter; she must be exhausted as well, but the joy that fills her face makes her look ten years younger. She was still here in your room waiting when Mihawk brought you back, you wrapped in his coat with the baby in your arms, and kept you company as you were cleaned and finally allowed to rest “And the doctor saw him; he’s alright, just slightly underweight but perfectly healthy. And he was born in wolf form, just like you! It’s a good omen.”

“So they say…”

Your mother smiles as she sits on the edge of her bed, while you sit up, still a bit sore but clean and warm in your nightgown. “How do you feel, (name)?”

“Well, I think; I just… I can’t believe it really happened.” you confess “I’ve had months to get used to this, but I still fear I will wake up tomorrow morning and discover it was all a dream.”

Your mother reassures this is no dream, it is reality, with your baby safe and sound and real, and Mihawk’s ring at your finger. “I’m very glad you accepted his proposal; I’m sure the two of you will be very happy.”

“We have decided he will move here with me - with us.”

“Of course he will; what sort of family would you be otherwise? And fear not, I’ll be the model of a discreet mother-in-law, keeping your baby as you spend some time together.”

The thought brings a smile to your face, only for a moment. “How am I going to do it?”

“Do what, my love?”

“Being a mother. You took such good care of me, and I know I can hire a dozen nannies and nurses if I want, but… this is something I have no experience in; it’s completely new.” you confess; you have never shied away from a challenge and your heart is full of joy for the birth of your baby boy, but the thought of being responsible for his well-being, for his security and education and readiness to face the world once he’ll be an adult… yes, you have to admit the thought scares you “And I know Mihawk would do his part; this has nothing to do with him, just…”

“You fear you won’t be up to it.”

“I do; I fear I will disappoint you all, our child especially.”

Your mother smiles. “I’ll tell you a secret. You can read a pile of books on child rearing as tall as you are, hire an army of nannies, have your child being educated by the best tutors since he’s two, and at times you’ll still think you are doing a horrible job.” she explains “There is no sure recipe or magic formula, no foolproof remedy to make sure you’ll never make mistakes raising your child; rather, it’s something you’ll learn to do together, and discover through trial and error. Trust your judgement and the people close to you, and everything will be fine. Children can be forgiving when mistakes are made with the best intentions.”

You reflect on her words for a while, just a little less nervous than before, until your mother retrieves her Den Den Mushi from a pocket of her dress.

“I forgot to tell you; Sinead called while you were resting. I told her about the baby and she sent her regards and love, but maybe you should call her. There’s no rush, but…”

“No, you’re right; there’s something important we need to talk about after all.”

With a sigh you take the Den Den Mushi from your mother’s hands; your cousin-in-law answers almost immediately. “Sinead, it’s me.”

“(name)! How are you?” she asks, her excitation clear through the line “Congratulations! How is the baby? Your mother told me it’s a boy. Have you decided on a name?”

“Not yet; but he’s fine, fortunately, even though he took his sweet time being born. How are you? And Caspian?”

They are both fine, she assures you; it’s been a year since Sinead’s husband, your cousin Theon, was killed, and she has finally started recovering, devoting herself to the care of her son and her husband’s property, to keep it until Caspian is old enough to inherit it. Apart from her terrible taste in men, Sinead is a good woman, and you have started growing closer now that Theon’s resentment and envy towards you are no longer keeping you apart.

“I’m sure that you have everything under control, thanks to your mother and your doctor, but… well, if you need help, please call me; I have helped raise six children between Caspian and my brother’s, so I’m quite experienced.”

“I will; thank you, it’s very kind of you to offer.” you answer, sincerely touched… and suddenly a little ill-at-ease, because you hate the thought you’re going to repay her offer to help with bad news “Sinead… I know last year, after Theon died, we had discussed making Caspian my heir, but this baby… well, I want him to become lord of this island after me; it’s his inheritance, and I want to give him the best life I can.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry if this… displeases you. I’m very fond of Caspian, and will always be there for him, but…”

“No, I understand; this child is your son, it is only fair that he inherits your feud.” she points out gently “To be honest, I’m relieved; I know this is not what Theon would have wanted, but I don’t think my son would be happy in your mother’s role. We can already offer him a good start at life, and I want him to be able to choose his destiny.”

You can only approve your cousin-in-law’s decision; Sinead congratulates you again for the birth of your son, and promises she and Caspian will soon come visit. Having said your good-byes, you return the Den Den Mushi to your mother, who notices you’re a bit pensive.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

“Nothing.” you reassure her; what’s the point of worrying about the future, when the present offers you so much to be happy about? “Only that I feel blessed; and I want to see the baby and Mihawk.”

His son’s hand is too tiny to close around his index finger; Mihawk observes the scene in front of him, fascinated beyond words, a strange emotion that is love, pride, protectiveness and anxiety filling his heart. The baby is not yet aware of the world around him, so small and helpless in the vast, dangerous world, and he doesn’t know how much he is loved, and how his father, and his mother, would be ready to fight the Gods themselves to keep him safe. 

It’s alright, Mihawk thinks as he frees his finger from his son’s gentle grasp; we’ll just have to make sure he learns it and never forgets it.

“Come, my little darling.” he murmurs, his voice soothing, as he bends to lift the child from his cot. Any man or woman who knows him, even just by his fearsome reputation as a pirate and swordsman, would be amazed to hear him talk like that, but Mihawk doesn’t care, and not just because he’s alone; with his son in his arms, the baby’s tiny but steady heartbeat reverberating against his chest, it’s almost impossible to worry or care about anything else “Let us go visit your mother.”

A spacious, well-lit room next to (name)’s apartment has been arranged as a nursery for the baby, even though it’s still empty save for a cradle, the same his mother and grandfather once used, a changing table and a few shelves on the walls. Mihawk keeps the baby against his chest, a hand under his bottom and the other supporting his neck and head like the lady Veressa showed him, as he walks to his fiancée’s bedroom, finding her sitting on her bed, smiling and breath-taking in her joy.

“I was told my lady had asked for us.”

“I most certainly did, lord consort; now come, I want to see my heir, and a kiss.”

He gives her both, more careful than he’s ever been as he lowers the baby on her lap and then presses his mouth to (name)’s. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better; thanks for bringing us back, I felt so weak I really couldn’t walk…”

Mihawk smiles and shakes his head; the baby wakes up suddenly, not crying but with a quiet content sound that reminds his father of the happy chirping of a bird. 

“Do you think it was because I’m also a werewolf?” Mihawk asks suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

“You told me that for years your lovers had always been men you met out of the island; they were humans, not werewolves. And we did conceive only three months after you turned me…”

“It… would make sense; people did use to say werewolf blood has magical properties.” (name) admits slowly as she plays with the baby’s hands “But still, it’s impossible; turning into a werewolf doesn’t cure every wound or medical problem one has; Shanks’ arm didn’t grow back, and the same must be valid for me, and my… my womb.”

They reflect silently on the matter for a while, both aware that they might never find an answer to their doubt, and that they don’t need it - not when the result of that unexpected miracle is there with them, crying softly as he shakes his tiny hands.

“Are you hungry, my little love?” (name) asks, and while the baby obviously can’t answer he wastes no time in latching to her breast once she has lowered the neckline of her nightgown and raised her son to her chest, his tears soon forgotten “Here you go…”

Mihawk pulls a chair close to the bed. “We haven’t decided on a name yet.” he points out after a moment “We can’t keep calling him the baby forever. Still unwilling to use your father’s name?”

(name) shakes her head; no matter how much she loves her father, she wants her baby to be his own person, and to love him for him, not because she reminds him of someone else. “I really don’t know, there are so many good names…”

“There is one I have always liked.” Mihawk proposes “Gawain. It has a nice ring to it, does it not?”

“It does. Gawain… do you know what it means?” (name) smiles “Little falcon. I think it’s the perfect name for a son of yours. Do you like it, little one? Your name is lord Dracule Gawain…”

The baby doesn’t comment, too focused on the first meal of his life.

“We’ll always protect you.” Mihawk swears, brushing his fingers against the baby’s soft hair; dark hair, just like his. (name) nods. “And we’ll always be on your side, whatever road you decide to take; we promise.”

The baby gurgles happily as his parents share a smile, and a kiss.

“I will never leave you.” Mihawk murmurs “And I swear I will love you forever.”

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

So my man what do you think of how bnha act 3 has treated the villains so far?

I think it's going exactly the way the story hinted it would. No surprises there.

In terms of narrative, people should give Horikoshi his flowers. MHA might not be as flashy as other mangas, but Horikoshi keeps it consistent and to the point. I'm glad that he doesn't sacrifice the writing of a plotline in order to create flashier or more action based fights. I'm also glad he's been with the villains' ideologies and their reasons to do what they do.

It's funny, the hero side might be the one who's more surprised with the current outcome of the final showdown. You have moments like Ochako risking it all for Toga, which is a dream come true for villain fans yet might be hard to process for other people. I'm personally satisfied with how the author treated the Enji and Dabi plotline, because in the end it was not Shoto who alone could do a miracle. A bit of a "family issues must be solved by the whole family" opinion, but I'm glad to see Rei, Natsuo and Fuyumi getting involved. They all had the spotlight in a heartwarming moment to stop and help Touya. They all took responsibility for their role in what happened to their family.

So far, so good.

To be honest, my perception is that Horikoshi has great respect for some of his villain characters. He has so far dedicated a lot of the story to Tomura alone, to his connection with Izuku. At least when it comes to the League, sacrifices are not simply plot twists, you know? They held meaning, they're respectful to the character.

I can't say the same for other antagonists and villains, tho. It's understandable, those secondary characters won't receive as much screen time and that's okay. It's just a bit sad to think that some of them have a lot of potential, but the story keeps them backstage. I certainly miss seeing some of the members of the Meta Liberation Army, for example. I loved the implications of corruption of power in the hero society. I miss Lady Nagant too, I can't wait to see her reaction to knowing that AFO is finally dead. Right now I wonder what the hell Horikoshi had planned for Hawks, lol. Every time I think his plotline is getting kickstarted, it runs for a second before stopping again. If he's there it's because there are unfinished businesses with him, maybe we will finally get a resolution on his connection with Toga and his past with Twice, but that's for later.

I have faith in Horikoshi, I guess. He has shown us that he does what the story demands and doesn't change the course of it for the public as much as other mangakas do. That is what movies are for.

I'm sure we'll see Spinner and Compress again, but most of all I'm curious worried about Kurogiri. I insist that the resolution between Kurogiri and Aizawa and Yamada will wreck me. In my wildest dreams I see Kurogiri begin for Tomura's life aka to save him, to give him a chance. I saw Aizawa's face when he heard Kurogiri talk about Tomura. He knew it was not only an order, but also a part of Oboro still alive. Oboro would do anything to help someone in danger, he'd pick any stray cat, give his life for anyone. I'm on the edge of my seat with that trio. Teachers on opposite sides of the war, once friends. Don't even get me going about Yamada and Kurogiri. Whenever I think of Mic and his role in that situation, it's pure torture.

If you ask me, I'm getting what I wanted. Act 3 has been great. It got a little boring for me when the whole focus was fighting AFO (I don't know why, maybe AFO is just not my favorite character to focus on). The rest? Amazing. Beautiful panels and drawing style, emotional instances that reveal the heart of the villains, their determination and dreams were respected, they got treated for once as real humans and not just villains... I'm behaving like a total kid with what is happening with Deku and Tomura in the 415 chapter.

Now, post-battle is another matter. We will cross that bridge when we get there, but they must be all alive and well or I'm ending what the League started and taking this whole world down with me (I'm not exaggerating at all haha why you ask?)

[blossom-works]

Goddess of Life and Death

If you want more Hades content, click here

---

When you became part of the Godly world, you were named the Goddess of Life and Death. That is due to your past. To make things short, there were once two kings that waged a futile war on one another. You, with your army, stopped that war and punished the kings by death. Unfortunately for you though, the people you protected and help and the men who fought for your cause betrayed you. Before you could be killed, Zeus came down and asked if you would like like to join the Heavens as a deity. You agreed. 

You got your name from your time as a human. You stopped the war, giving birth to a new era. Hence “life”. You killed the malicious men and women who tried to stop you and took pleasure in hurting others. Hence “death”. Your job as goddess is to bless the unfortunate and those with good hearts, and to condemn the wicked (often times sentencing them to death). You have been doing this for a millennia. Some prayed for your help and others prayed that they never come in contact with you. 

During your marriage years your time spent in the human world limited. Once a week you would go there and conduct your duties. The rest of the week is dedicated to the Netherworld. As its queen, you share the same duties as Hades. You are both responsible for making sure that Tartarus stays locked and to watch over the realms inhabitants. 

Your day visits every week brought down your popularity. You are not there everyday to listen to their prayers and put those who take your name in vain in check. It soon became rare to for mankind to see or just witness the power of the power of the Goddess of Life and Death. They only reason why some humans still pray to you is because of your day visits, but that stopped when you stopped coming to the human world all together. 

The reason why you stopped going to the human world is because you had a child. A little girl you and Hades have. Helheim’s princess and heir to the throne. You chose to prioritize your role as a mother and ruler over your duties. Zeus, thankfully was understanding of your decision. He said, “I can’t really blame you can I? Afterall, these humans keep screwing everything up no matter how many chances we give them.” 

Still to this day, you disagree with your brother-in-law. Zeus misunderstood your reasoning for “retirement”. You just wanted to spend your time in your home with your family. Sure, you may have stopped going to the human realm and listening to their prayers, but you still love mankind. Like your fellow Demigod, you still adore the race. Heck, you yourself was once human. You made the same mistakes they have. Like Hercules, you understand the human race. You will always hold affection for them. Sometimes during the day you would whisper them a silent apology for not being there for them. 

Your affection for humankind sort of dissipates over the next couple of days though. Your husband died. And by the hands of a human. It put you in a hard position for a quick minute. In the end, you decided to still hold humanity in great heights, but you no longer cared if the race lives or dies. Before, you and Hercules would root for the race. Always voting against their extermination. Now, now you just do not know.

Now you have to be Helheim’s sole ruler. Its queen without her king. You have to be a mother without your child’s father. Your title as the Goddess of Life and Death has been thrown away. Your only titles now are “queen” and “mother”.  

---

This is not exactly a Hades x reader fanfic (sorry to disappoint anyone). Before I continue this series, I just wanted to show this part of the OC’s life. I didn’t want anyone to be confused since I stated that the OC goes up to the human world once a week prior to the birth her daughter. I know some of you may have wondered how she spends her time juggling like three jobs. The OC is a woman who prioritizes her family and and home before her job as a goddess. I hope this explanation makes sense!

[eliza-styx]

The grand Kömsko (König/Gromsko) timeline & masterpost

The time has come to sum up the lore and history of the ship that stole hearts of many by complete accident and wormed its way into the subconscious of many Polish shippers in the cod fandom. This post is for you, if you wanna participate in our little cult but struggle a bit with realising what headcanons may be appropriate for Gromsko, if you’re not Polish yourself and some König ideas that we think make sense in relation to this ship.

It all started on the fateful day of December 9th 2022 when Ghostytoasty  made the most random joke that was exactly the snowflake needed to start an avalanche of events

It led to Orin pitching an idea of enemies to lovers story for these two and my own brainworms picked it up to basically draft the whole fanfic in the conversation, at which point Shiba promised to make art for, if I actually wrote it.

Well, two days later, a child was born, the very first Kömsko fanfic to be posted on AO3

Shelter Me

written by none other than me aka ElizaStyx with the beautiful cover art done by MizuShiba

And thus the ship became reality.

It gained interest on twitter with artists like @/620_ne1 and @/Capitan_LX among others posting their own fanart of the pair

Shiba, of course also kept creating more  beautiful art of the couple

Encouraged by the small cult that spawned amongst the people of the ghostsoap discord I started working on the sequel fic, a humorous and fluffy take on the pair dealing with being in love while also working for the rival factions

Carry You

meanwhile, Ghostytoasty got their own inspirational angst juices flowing and wrote a beautifully poetic MCD fic

The warmth that lingers as a shattered heart bleeds

Somewhere along the way, a side channel dedicated to Kömsko spawned in the discord and we begun to fill it up with the various headcanons and ideas that are now listed in a twitter thread by Capitan_LX but to sum up some facts to start your own juices flowing

Gromsko basic headcanons:

- born 11.11.1990, on the Polish Independence Day - brought up in roman catholic faith with very strict, religious parents and a younger sister we named Judyta, definitely was either an altar boy or sung in the church choir - wears a cross around his neck since childhood - history nerd, knows everything about history of Poland and will ramble all night long - has two music listening modes: Sabaton or Polish pop like Doda, hates disco polo - very patriotic, brought up basically brainwashed into believing in God, Honour, Fatherland above all else, had dreams of a winged hussar and that’s why he joined the army (but also dreaming of men, huh?) - struggled coming to terms with his sexuality because the catholic church teaches that homosexual love is forbidden, used to say very offensive shit in his youth but definitely had grown since then - swears in Polish even if he speaking in a different language - calling people idiots and other names is his language of love - never recieved gifts as a kid, cries every time König gives him something and  König keeps showering him with gifts - knows English, Russian and German but doesn’t let on just how much German he understands because König loves to whisper sweet things into his ear that he thinks Gromsko doesn’t understand

König basic headcanons:

- born 15.08.1994, on the day of Assumption of Mary which is obviously a big religious holiday in Poland - is an only child, brought up by a single mom who struggled to make ends meet and worked several jobs but would give up anything to care for him, though often was absent overworking herself - severely bullied in school for being tall, awkward and having no dad, called slurs - became a bookworm to escape reality into fictional worlds - keeps a journal of his thoughts and the books he read - daydreams a lot and in the evening writes down many stories that he daydreams about during the day in his journal but thinks they are silly and never showed anyone until Gromsko came around (Gromsko adores them) - his love language is gift giving and he will look for excuses to give gifts - listens to heavy metal and death or black metal, loves Rammstein - gets into Behemoth and other Polish metal bands because of Gromsko - brushes his teeth at least three times a day, never smoked because it’s bad for gum health - decides to learn Polish in secret so Gromsko doesn’t know he understands when he calls him names - will listen to Gromsko ramble about history all night long - anxious mess 24/7, has severe panic attacks sometimes but Gromsko knows exactly how to ground him and calm him down

[vlovers19]

I really don't understand why Vminies who follow Vmin so closely and avidly haven't figured out this Vmins secret yet. Vmin "friendship" has been around for several years now, but we have so little private information about them. We do not have any photos or videos that only concern their personal life. Everything they showed us had or has to do with BTS and their work. We don't have any photos of restaurants, parties, etc. they might've gone to together, but we do have Taehyung's dedication to Jimin in album acknowledgements and dedications, like his message to Jimin on his signed copy of Layover that literally called Jimin his testicle. Vmin have a very private relationship, just like their families and familial arrangements, and Vmin chose not to reveal things publicly years ago. I don't know if this was their personal choice or if a situation simply forced them to do it, but both seem like likely explanations. If you observe Vmin carefully, like really carefully, you can discover a lot of interesting things…even today…. And we know that Jikook ( Taekook too) are not a couple, Jikook are friends and since Tae decided to set a high hurdle for himself due to his fears (by choosing the specific military unit he wants to go to) and Jungkook couldn't follow in his footsteps, it is normal for Jikook to go together under the buddy system. I think Jimin needs this, more than Jungkook really. I don't even want to get into what it would be like if Jikook were a couple, because they definitely aren't. I'd quicker believe that Jungkook had an affair with Mingyu rather than any other men. I think the fact that we have so little information about Vmin, that Vmin isn't going to Army together, is more confirmation that there is something between them that needs to be kept secret than that they aren't even friends.

I think that it is much better and more strategic to "live the life of ships" than to show your private life, because of the hatred and envy of people, especially the crazy ones (toxic shippers and solos). It's smarter to spin a fantasy for fans instead of drawing attention to your true self and risking strangers digging into your private life, sesaengs stalking where you live and camp outside your building, as well as strangers calling your families and friends and sending death threats etc… some people's obsession knows no limits.

Exactly!!!

[maguro13-2]

War of Shadow Realm ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 4 Finale [2/5]

"Meanwhile in Space Storm Galaxy..."

[What I'm Made of - Crush 40]

Neo Metal Sonic (as Metal Overlord!) : Long time no see, Sonic! My Loathsome copy!

"METAL OVERLORD : The Ultimate Overlord"

Sonic : Alright, Metal! I told you there will be a rematch and that's just good old fashioned butt kicking!

Tails & Knuckles : We're right behind you!

Mario (via Communicator) : Can you hear me, Sonic? Your old robot doppelganger rival is going batshit-crazy again with the Overlord thing! We manage to get to Ohkubo's moon, but I believe that the fight's not over! I know how to stop him and return him to normal!

Sonic : What should I do, Mario!? There's no way that our standards attack were useless against him!

Mario (via communication) : Nonsense! All you need is a little bit of Team Blast to unleash your ultimate or special move, Sonic Overdrive is the only attack that could return Metal Sonic back to the way he was before! That's your chance to attack him!

Princess Peach (o.s) : Go for it, guys! You can do it!

Neo Metal Sonic (as Metal Overlord) : Sonic, I discovered that the Time Eater was responsible for destroying half of the Ohkuboverse that it appeared 1000 years ago and revealed that it was a facade by Shadow Realm. But the Time Eater has killed the man who created the world of that Bratty Meister! So that is why I was brought into this time in the real world to overthrow the Kusakabe Legacy with my bare hands!

Penny Crygor (via communicator) : So what? The Kusakabe Legacy object revealed itself that it might be data that was stored in the mainframe, then I realized that the legacy that you wanted to ovethrow was something special to his family that dedicated him from California using the via network system. So it turns out that the Kusakabe Legacy itself was pieced together in a database stored in one disk.

Neo Metal Sonic (as Metal Overlord) : And I bet it was the time eater that created the Legacy of his family! And now I understand things from a girl-genius grunt of a plumber like you! That's just great! [picks up an Eggman Fleet Battleship] But I'll suggest that...I'LL CRUSH YOU!

Cooler (o.s) : Hey! Those are my lines!

(knuckles destroys the battle ship by punching it)

Sonic : Now then, onward with march!

Tails & Knuckles : Okay!

"Two Team Blasts attack later..."

Sonic (in Super Form) : Ha! It's working! Looks like it's working, guys!

Mario (via Communicator) : Knock him dead, that'll put up to his misery!

Neo Metal Sonic (as Metal Overlord) : Hahaha! Not even a scratch on me! I was designed to be this strong for an evolution like this to make me stronger! I am just getting started to take this seriously! But how about I give you a demonstration!

Sonic : Not good enough! This thing in Overlord form is super strong when it comes to this one in the storm! But it's one thing's for sure!

Tails : He's steady as she goes when he packs a punch!

"Two more Team Blast attacks later..."

Knuckles : Man he's tough for one giant robot!

Tails : I can't say enough that he manage to be still invincible in that form! We gotta crunch the numbers somehow!

Neo Metal Sonic ( as Metal Overlord) : When this is over, I'll overthrow my creator and start a robot kingdom over Planet Earth for my own conquest, and after that, there will be an army of clones to overthrow the governments of the real world! And when I do...I'll be unstoppable and I will conquer everything as the ultimate overlord there is! For you see, that I am...(we later cut to him in his original form on Final Fortress) defeated again?! Damn it! (Slams fist)

Sonic : Sorry! You snooze you loose! That's what you get locking up Eggman in that airship.

Metal Sonic : This is the real reason that I couldn't defeat you in that kind of form! It took me hours to combine that data and become the ultimate overlord in conquest! I had the chance of using data copy from what, Tac from Kirby? How can I rule the world when my creator notices that I started an uprising?! I only wanted rule the world as an overlord and that is it and got nothing else left in my system for years! And I would've gotten away with it, if it wasn't for your meddling self and your vile friends that I do and do not even know!

Sonic : Hey, What is what it is. It's a win win after all, it's gonna be another rematch between you and me!

Metal Sonic : I'm going to regret you that in style! And when I do, I'll disguise myself as that robot from one of your spin off game and challenge you to a bloody pulp in the Olympics!

Egg Pawn : There he is, officers! That's the one who tricked us as pawns in a corrupt game! Take him away and put him on restrictions to reset his system! (The guards handcuffs Metal Sonic)

Metal Sonic : W-What?! (Looks at the handcuffs) Wait! Wait! There must be some kind of mistake! You gotta believe! You can't do this to me! Wait! (The guards drag him away) WAAAAAAIT!!!

Sonic : Well, guess that's the end of the road, for him. I wonder how the guys are doing back on Ohkubo's moon?

"Meanwhile on Ohkubo's moon..."

Ashley : Alright! Looks like we manage to stop the mad man for good!

Kaguya : Talking about cutting it close. I hope this is wearing your powers down, Asura Kusakabe! You finally got what you deserve! (Asura vanishes into a puff of smoke, leaving a Heartless Emblem behind)

Ashley : Well, What do you know? So I barely made to rest my opened case, that the Kishin Asura was a decoy after all. So the reason that you and Maka went all that trouble for a heartless doppelganger used as a decoy. It was nothing more than a puppet created from Asura's heart, that means the real Asura Kusakabe has been dead for a long time.

Kimial Diehl : So all of this time, The Kishin that Crona was going to become... wasn't going to become a Kishin at all?

Yami Bakura : Nope. It was all part of Demon Vibe's plan for galactic conquest.

Kimial : What?! Are you telling me-

Ashley: That the Kishin Asura-

Kaguya : Isn't really-

Everyone on Earth : -A God at all?!

Sora : Now I get it, So all this time that Maka went all that trouble for a phony God and he was Demon Vibe's pawn to his game to think he is an evil god.

Maka Albarn : Then...Then...That means...

Moirai Albarn : ...the Real Asura is dead? (Everyone pauses for a moment)

Maka & Moirai : (Realizing) HOLY CRAP!! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US THAT THE KISHIN GUY WAS A DOPPELGANGER CREATED BY THE REAL ONE!?! AFTER ALL WE'VE BEEN THROUGH TO SAVE THE WORLD AND ALL WE DEFEATED WAS AN IMPOSTER POWERED BY A MANIAE SPIRIT?!? I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THE STUPID GORGON WITCH SISTERS HAVE MADE US WASTED OUR LIVES FOR THAT STUPID KISHIN CRAP!!! IT'S SICKENS US AND IT'S A GOD DAMN DISGRACE!!!

Kaguya : But...But what about me?! I'm still a clown created by Shinra's grandson and I didn't even flinch nor I vanished into nothingness! Guess that means that I get to keep living on earth! If only there was a news station to catch this latest scoop, it would be pretty bummer to have this for a celebration or victory.

Fuse : That's exactly what we wanted to hear from you, detectives. Great job on defeating that imposter! We knew it all along from Channel 5

[Ulala's Swinging Report Show - Kenichi Tokoi]

Ashley : Who are they? And, what are they?

Kimial Diehl : Hold that thought! They're not Nintendo's, they're Sega representative. It's the Channel 5 News Crew!

(We then cut to Gurhal Channel 5 News)

Hal : Good evening! This is Hal from Gurhal Channel 5 news. Tonight we give you the latest stories from Real World AU that detectives to save this planet. The famous school-themed training facility Death Weapon Meister Academy was destroyed due to it's destruction by the Space Colony ARK's Eclipse Cannon, which led to the start of of this never-ending conflict called the War of Shadow Realm declared by criminal Mastermind, Neo Metal Sonic. Ulala?

Ulala : You said it, Hal. It has come to my attention that the so-called Kishin Asura has been exposed as a fake to designate the planet for complete destruction on all life on earth, has once again foiled the Yamis's plans by two detectives, Ashley and Kimial. Using their combine efforts to stop the criminal threats on corrupting the entire world, all of Asura's bad influence have been stopped, or should I say a heartless's influence would turn the world sour. How does that sound to villains like them, Fool us once, shame on them. Fool me twice, they'll spend time in Jail on Earth. How does that sound for a couple of card-playing losers like you all of the time.

Marik : [to Bakura] I told you that was a stupid idea! That was all nothing but misunderstandings!

Bakura : [To Marik] Bite me, ya mug! I have no interest from a grunt like you! I don't know if we even agree on using these heartlesses that determined for power-hungry numb nuts! Why did I ever did to deserve like this?

Marik : Same goes to you. I just happened that we're not even wearing space suits on the author's creepy ass cartoonish moon we're on.

Ulala : So, who says that this never-ending conflict is going to end pretty soon, once we get to earth for serving time at prison and get ourselves a little chat.

Necrodeus : I say that this war is not even over. I am going to make you suffer all, and I even bet that this corrupt game has officially changed, all to the rule world in Darkness!

Ulala : Huh, What are you...Hey, what's going on? Who are you!? No! stay back! I said "Stay back"! (TV BUZZING) AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

Hal : Ulala, you there? Ulala, are you there? Did you get that? Hello, Ulala! What the heck is going on in here! Hey,no! What do you think you're doing?! What are those things?! (A Skullseer laughing evilly is heard) No! Don't come any closer! YAAAAAAAHHHH! *TV BUZZING*

Noize : ULALAAAAAAA!!!

"Transmission Interrupted..."

~ Sixty-Ninth Scene : The Ruler of Darkness ~

[neurodecadence]

RIN QUESTIONS: numbers divisible by 5, vowels

Goddam.

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust? I mean she approaches every interaction with a healthy amount of suspicion, so really you already have it by default. She warms fairly quickly, assuming any betrayal would be swift and brutal rather than prolonged. That said do not mistake that warmth for total trust, that is a prize not easily earned.

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them? "I'm just an itinerant chirurgeon, here to lance a few boils and make a few coin before I move on." It's not a special lie but she tells it a lot. She has the intonation practiced to perfection, a certain tired lilt intended to imply an unexcited malaise.

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first? She has scripts for entering inns and adventurers guilds, planned conversations showing a character of a bored but dutiful medical professional. It's well established enough that she rarely gets questioned. If she's caught off script she will pause and consider carefully her next words. Between friends, dalliances, and drinking partners she is much quicker to answer, often embarrassing herself. It's the kind of free and open speech she could have with Seth that made her love him so much, and that he loved in her. Remembering that will often make her reticent once more.

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so? Rin has never really known familial love and only trusts what she can observe herself. Marrying Seth was as much about fleeing her home as it was loving him (though she did love him fiercely) She has had few platonic loves, but she views it as a kind of comradeship. People she knows would lie for her to keep her safe, and that she would fight to protect. As her day go on she finds them easier to come by, she isn't sure if this makes her happy or uncomfortable. There is one romantic love for her, as established.

25. What are their thoughts on marriage?  RIn knows the kind of mad dedication she had to Seth is not common, not usual, perhaps not right, but she doesn't care. She found her one and only, and when she said forever in her vows, she meant it.

30. Who do they most regret meeting?  In bitter-cold nights kept company by a jug of cheap wine she wishes Seth had never walked into the palace library, had never seen a little cripple girl pouring over medical texts, had never flashed that razor smile. Come morning she regrets it and the churning of her hangover mixes with a fresh dose of self loathing.

35. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?  To an extent. People who are excited about their passions, their works, a chance to see the works of an expert, she understands these things and would encourage them. She believes people should strive for perfection, even if they might never make it, because how else can society raise itself up. Excitement about petty drama, or even worse, magic would likely be ignored or derided. Despite softening a bit, she is still a bitch.

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws? No one knows them closer or in more detail than Rin. There's nothing you can say she doesn't know already, that she hasn't made peace with.

--

A. Why are you excited about this character? So I made her for a dnd3.5 game that never went ahead, and I had no fucking idea what character I wanted to make. I was looking at class options when the name "Vivisectionist" stuck out to me. At the same time I was considering a video I had been watching over a decade ago in which someone was deriding Bald Grizzled White Army Man protagonists, and noting that the trend was continuing over even as they became fathers too. In that video he talked about how he could only think of two protagonists who were mothers, compared to a vast swathes of father figures. Now, I wasn't interested in making a mother, but I did consider the archetypal "Grizzled man angy cause wife am dead" kind of character and how it might be neat to flip that on its head. In a flash I had Rin almost formed in my head, a woman madly devoted to her husband even past death. She gripped onto my higher brain functions and something about her character, her intended playstyle, the question of what it means for an immortal to mourn forever, and also how she would fuck nasty as an unhealthy coping mechanism, it all really hooked me.

E. Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you? I truly don't know. I think she'd be frustrated by me to be honest, and she'd scare me. Certainly not someone I'd want to roadtrip with.

I. Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe? Mostly, but I have had some fun ideas about modern versions of her doing hotline miami shit. It is a fun version of her I have to admit, much less hinged than even canon Rin.

[ghostwise]

Overgrown for the prompts?

She finds him in the orchard, among the flies, mold, and rotting fruit.

The sickly sweet odor of a thousand dead plums is an assault on her senses. Leonor reels back, dizzied. Nobody has tended to the orchards at Quinta de Talpa. For years they have been left to grow wild, an interruption of the ecosystem, sucking up all the water and nutrients in the soil yet feeding no one. A space dedicated to nothing more than decay.

It feels appropriate.

She has been thinking about her and Rinna’s situation. They came here looking for an escape, but lately it feels like a dead end. What once seemed like a promising start has become much like this orchard; untenable and stagnant.

By the time Mahariel reaches her she is miserable, looking at him as if he were the very cause of everything wrong in her life. It’s not too far from the truth.

“I wish you’d never come here,” she says, too angry to try and be clever with him.

Hamal looks at her, impassive and silent. His eyes shake in their usual unsteady tic, too blue to be real, strange and unsettling, but he’s listening. Most of their conversations involve him listening.

“You really fucked things up for me!” Leonor continues. “So many years trying to keep her safe and now we have a diplomatic incident on our hands because of you and your shit husband-”

“’Diplomatic’—what?” Hamal asks. Her tone combined with a reference to Zevran catches his attention, and his expression falls into a half-hearted glare. “I do not understand. What did you say about my husband?”

His Antivan is still not very good. He understands about half of what she says to him, but he knows just enough to be a real pain in the ass when he’s up to the effort of conversing. Frustrated, Leonor reaches into her pockets and produces a letter, written on good parchment, with an ornate seal.

“Who the fuck,” she begins, exasperated, “is writing to you from Orlais?” The paper crumples as she hits it for emphasis, startling him. “The fucking Left Hand of the Divine! Are you serious? How does she know you are here? Why does she even care?”

Hamal’s eyes follow the letter and he seems genuinely taken aback. “I… I do not know-”

“Read it!” She shoves the paper into his hands and takes out a dagger for good measure. “Out loud!”

Hamal glances at the letter, then at her weapon.

“Read!”

“Ya, ya, calma,” he says, unworried. “One moment. Thank you.”

Leonor is no Templar, no guard and no soldier. She watches him read in utter silence, and runs her hand through her curls, giving them a desperate tug. Finally, feeling that she might have been a tad hasty, she puts the knife away.

“Well? What does it say?” she asks.

It says she is overstepping, as usual, Hamal thinks.

Leliana, it seems, has done well for herself since the Blight. Truth be told, he is not too pleased by the letter in his hands. While most would think no news is good news, Leliana has taken it upon herself to spend time and resources tracking them down.

Hamal sighs and closes his eyes, aware of Leonor still watching him. He wishes Zevran was here to discuss this. How troubling.

“She is a friend from Ferelden,” he explains, and tries desperately to think of how to spin this in their favor. He struggles a bit with the next part. “Me ayudó… con… cuando… uhm...”

Waving a hand through the air, he brings it down in a swoop of wings.

“Raar, raar. Demonio. The Archdemon. She helped us end the Blight.”

“The Left Hand of the Divine helped you defeat the Archdemon,” Leonor repeats, and she sinks to the ground in a moody crouch. “Of course. And I suppose she and Zevran are the best of friends.”

“Yes. Friends.” Hamal forms a little twist with his fingers. “Leliana and Zevran. She wants to see us.”

“Then maybe you should go.”

Leonor covers her eyes, mortified. The Divine’s Left Hand! An army of Chantry forces will surely follow. They’ll find a decrepit estate, full of falsified documents, blood magic, assassins, apostates, tax evasion! What will become of Rinnala then, when she is no longer at her side?

Contentious relationship aside, Hamal does sympathize. He knows enough about Leonor to understand that her freedom was hard-won, and that her concerns for Rinnala mirror his own feelings toward Zevran. He steps closer, carefully, and kneels beside her.

“Rinnala does not want us to go,” he says slowly. “She has to decide. Zevran will wait for her to ask him to leave.”

Abruptly, he continues in his native language, something she vaguely recognizes as that curious Coastal Fereldan Elvhen. Different from the way the Antivan Dalish speak.

“I will write Leliana,” he says, holding a palm out and scribbling on it with his finger. “I will tell her we are well and correspond with her accordingly. I will tell her not to come. Que no venga.”

He wags a finger ‘no’.

“Zevran will agree with this plan. No Chantry forces will come to Quinta de Talpa. No Templars will ever chain you again.”

And they’ve squabbled with each other enough in these past months to have built a little bridge all their own. Some understanding, past the language barrier, past the distrust, allows her to grasp his meaning. Leonor puzzles out what he’s saying, unable to believe him, but tempted by the offer.

“Alright… alright,” she says finally. “But we are to read every letter you send. Do not try anything underhanded!”

Hamal nods. “Nothing bad. Promise.”

Leonor scoffs and pulls herself up, grasping him by the shoulder.

“Let’s go. It smells awful. Why are you even out here?”

“There are animals in the orchard,” Hamal says idly. “I was setting traps.”

“Animals?”

“Little ones. They eat the plums. Ah, hm… they go like this.” Unable to describe them, he holds out a hand and makes little motions with his fingers, like a creature scurrying. Then he bunches it up into a fist, as if the creature were curling up.

“Armadillos?” Leonor asks.

Hamal shrugs. A curious moment of peace transpires. The entire conversation has his mind spinning.

“This will work,” he tells her, glancing at her warily, “but not forever. Leliana is not the only one who will come. One day, Rinnala has to let us leave. You promise me.”

“Buddy,” Leonor sighs, “if it were up to me, you would already be gone.”

[sykhan048]

Your Beloved...(Chapter 11)

Mini and Cutler walking together. After some time they both stop as cutler is tired now. His leg is weak now. They were sat on the sea shore.

Mini: Is your leg hurting?

Cutler: Yes, (sigh) A little.

Mini: The infection is recover but your leg is became little weak now.

Cutler: But it's better than lost of leg. If the infection won't recover maybe you would have been cut my leg.

Mini: yes. but Thank god.

Cutler: By the way we are staying together almost 1 month. But We don't know anything other than each other's names.  And as friends, we have the right to know about each other. Is not it?

Mini: Yes, you're right. let's start.

Cutler: So, I am Lord Cutler Becket. The...

Mini: The Chairman of East India Trading Company. You joined East India Trading Company as a governor. For many years you faithfully served the Company, eventually becoming the Director of West African Imports and Exports for the Company. From your post in calabar , you organized a search for the mythical  island of karma, hoping to find its legendary trajor. But something happened there and you mission became unsuccessful. You nonetheless continued to work for the Company. More than a decade after the incompleat mission, You were granted the title of , eventually becoming the Company's governor. As a duly appointed representative of king george II, he led the Company's expansion in the Caribbean, taking control over Port royal with the blessing of the Crown, turning it into his base of operations. With the huge EITC fleet and army of mercenaries an under your command, Lord Beckett made it his goal to forever annihilate piracy  from the world. And then.....

Cutler: How do you know that?

Mini: amm....actually...(nervous)

Cutler: who are you? How do you know about this? (suspicious)

Mini: (in mind) If I tell him that I am from future then he will take this in wrong way. I won't be able to know him properly.

Cutler: Mini...

Mini: oh..come on Cutler... You only said this to me.

Cutler: Did I? When?

Mini: When you was at unconscious state.

Cutler: Really?

Mini: yes.. and you were also muttering some like sparrow, pirates many things. What was that mean?

Cutler: AAhan...long story. I will tell you later. Now will you tell me about yourself?

Mini: Ok...(bright smile) As you know my name. Soudamini Sen. You can understand by my name that I am from India, West Bengal. I am a doctor. Actually I'm studying in medical science. My vacation is started so I decided to do a tour of Caribbean.

Cutler: Strange.

Mini: why?

Cutler: Because I didn't hear about any Indian is studying and they are involved at this noble work.

Mini is about to argue but the she remember that She is in past.

Mini: Yes, now it's looking rare but in future this will be an ultimate truth.

Mini said with a sparkling eyes.

Cutler: (in mind) Will it really happen? Don't know. But there was a determination in her voice. It makes me forcefully believe that it will surely happen. She is so young. But sometimes talk like a matured person.

Mini: Hey, where have you lost? (waving her hand)

Cutler: Oh...nowhere.

Mini: Breakfast in ready. I think we should go.

Cutler: Hmm...let's go.

She help him to stand and they headed to their hut.

Black pearl,

Barbosa: (tensed) hey Captain Turner. you should stay careful.

Will: What happen?

Barbosa: Devy jone is get his life back.

Elizabeth: WHAT?????

Elizabeth: Barbosa, how can be Devy Jones is alive? Will was stabbed on his heart and killed him.

Barbosa: You forgot one thing your highness. Calypso is alive. Maybe she did something.

Will: But Barbosa, It was a rule that The Dutchman must have a Captain. And The Captain should be immoral.

Elizabeth: Devy jones, stated this ritual. He cut his heart and close it in a chest. So that's why will cut his heart and dedicate himself to the sea and take this responsibility. The Captain of Dutchman has a responsibility to the souls of people who died in the sea. He take them to the after life.

Bill turner: But Calypso is an unpredicted goddess. We can't guess her intention your highness.

Bill Turner came there.

Barbosa: your highness, I need sometime to find more detail regarding this.

Elizabeth: ok...Mr. Gibs you will bring jack.

Mr. gibs: aye...

Elizabeth: dismiss.

Everyone is gone. Elizabeth is looking worried.

Elizabeth: Will...

She went to him.

Will: don't worry Elizabeth.

Elizabeth is about to hug him.

CAP'N TURNER. WE SHOULD SET SAIL.

Will: aye...(to Elizabeth) I have to go. take care.

Will went to his ship. Elizabeth is looking at him with teary eyes.

Bill came and held her shoulder.

Elizabeth: Father...(teary eye)

Bill: Dear, My son is alive with the power of you love. Don't worry. He'll back.

Elizabeth wipes her tears and nods.

Bill: So, your highness. May I take my leave ?

Elizabeth: (smile) Sure Mr. Turner.

Will: Mr. turner

Bill look at Will.

Will: if you say you can stay with your beloved daughter-in-law. 

Elizabeth: Well he has more experience than you Captain Turner and you really need him my dear husband.

She look at Bill.

Bill: Yes, your highness....Aye Aye Cap'n.

The Dutchman set the sail and Barbosa keep researching for the reason of the mess is going. 

[bearpillowmonster]

SUPERMAN: EARTH ONE

I saw the covers of these three volumes and knew I had to check them out so I loaded up a digital copy.

"If you experienced the same thing, if you've ever worn that symbol on a T-shirt, doodled it on the back of a notebook, or had it tattooed on your arm…if you understand what that symbol means -- that all things are possible -- then this book is dedicated to you. It is also dedicated to DC's Dan DiDio, who allowed this kid from New Jersey to finally realize the dream of a lifetime."

Hearing something like that lets me know that the writers care about what they're putting out and had something in mind that they wanted to tell with a beginning middle and end. Then the opening panels have Clark getting on a train and his mother asking why when he can just fly. "I want this to take time. I need time to think."

Barely even into the first few pages and I said "Alright, I have to buy this physically." because it was just too good. (plus it was only three volumes so it was compact enough to collect).

We get some really great concept art in the back. Even a copy of the newspaper. The dialogue is great, this version of Clark is great. No complaints with the first volume.

Now the next volume keeps up this pace and gives Clark a little bit of an adolescent moment where he's not really with Lois yet, in fact, there's someone else who's interested (this Lisa) but he has to learn to pace himself. He learns what consequences there are for his actions with his neighbor, Lisa. The second villain is Parasite which I've never really been fond of anyway because his story is more or less the same every time, so whatever.

The last volume is where things shine again because it reminds me that Lisa's into Clark (Clark is only making friends) because they think they're weirder than him and need a shoulder to cry on. That's great that you're trusted like that but it pushes your own self into a corner because you aren't actually the neutral they want to believe and feel you can't open up because of it.

I have an album of various pictures I've come to like from specific comics and I found myself pausing a lot to take some for this one, it has some good art. Lex is introduced, Z is introduced. Z...looks like a hooded Robin, I'm not gonna lie. Lex is...ahead of the game. He's married, he has hair. I mean, he's smart, he has the right idea but I always feel like people overthink his character and try to change him up but they need to remember that this is just the guy that wanted to sink California, putting a bomb in the San Andreas fault. This version fits this story because he's more involved with the government though.

But I like the theme of participation because you have the news media watching Superman and they just watch and show. You have the army, they get told by Zod not to fight him so they stay out of the fight. Superman is without ally, nobody will help him, they just watch because a man with that much power should be stopped, right? But there's a bat-signal type S emblem in the sky. Lois, the one he leaves mid-fight for just to see what's wrong and keep her safe. But who's standing there than none other than Lex. He's the only one to do something- take away Superman's power with red radiation.

But while characters like Lois and Lex are tentative, it's only a three volume arc so we don't get to see that fully blossom, just begin. So Clark still likes Lisa, he talks to Lois and they are friends now but it's not the role that Lois is known for. Lex comes to a decision about what his life is about and then leaves it in his wife's hands at the end, so she's the one taking his role. Part of me wants to say 'why even introduce them then?' but I can't really complain because I liked what I saw of them and it was only a 3 parter. All in all, it succeeded in being a good comic book, maybe not as edgy as you see on the covers but it made me just as happy.

[brooklynislandgirl]

The puzzled look on Beth's face causes an incredulous smile to draw itself across Dr. Strange's chiseled features, driving deep grooves around his cheeks and eyes. Of any student he's ever had, only Beth would ask that.

"Because you're incredibly capable, of course. Borderline savant. Anybody would be proud to have you as their student, and probably Nic West, most of all. " He glances down at the document in his hand. "Now, granted, he doesn't like being upstaged, especially by a student, and he and I have what you could charitably describe as an... acrimonious relationship... aaaand it's just a cold hard fact that his last three mentees haven't exactly been success stories. But if I'm completely honest, the man's far more willing to attend the butcher shop we call an ER than I am. He's seen and dealt with issues I haven't. The more well-rounded your knowledge base is, the better off you'll be. Even I have to admit that much."

He lets the written inquiry fall to his desktop with a pursing of his lips, then flickers his gaze back up to her. She does a good job of trying to hide her displeasure; what he sees is a quick downcast of her own eyes towards her toes, a clasping of her hands together in front of her. She was almost too quick for him to catch it, but there'd been a fleeting instant there where he'd seen the stricken, doe-eyed expression.

He knows that look well by now. When half her face seems to be occupied by her eyes, like she can't open them widely enough to capture the world around her. It's a feature he understands perhaps a little too well, even if he hasn't lived her specific life. It's the gaze of a person of extraordinary privilege, whose experience with trauma are quiet, too convenient to notice, and might require the entirety of their largesse to compensate the army of therapists they would require.

Except the money could go to better things than the petty selfishness of self-rehabilitation.

Stephen saves his petty selfishness for other pursuits.

He drives those troughs into his visage again to offer her a smile of reassurance. "Okay, okay. That's obviously a no-go. I'll let him know you belong to me."

Lost Sparks || Accepting

A quiet conversation held in an office in the aery reaches of the hospital, though he has a much smaller, much more cramped one on the university campus as well. The walls are honey-combed with book shelves: some contain tomes of the latest techniques ~not the least of which were ones that he pioneered, invented whilst held in the embrace of his own brilliance~ and others held wisdom passed down more than decades, ages past. Some hold awards and certificates. His desk takes up a good portion of one quarter of the room and its top is littered with files, envelopes, charts, a sleek laptop, a desk phone. There's chairs she could have easily sat in. A small couch that is sometimes the only bed he sleeps in for days and even then only a couple hours at a time. Some people might dismiss him as some playboy-hot shot Doctor, the kinds that they portray on steamy night time dramas but those people don't know the real Stephen Strange. He bleeds himself dry to preform every day miracles. There isn't any other medical doctor who has even half his skill, the Admiral included. And no other man's opinion holds as much sway with her as his does. She's spent months now trying to prove that her dedication is absolute. That she is willing to learn and adapt and be moulded to suit any real or imagined need he might have so that she could continue to learn under him. He'd never given any indication that she'd displeased him, that she'd let him down or failed something he'd asked or assigned to her so catastrophically that there was no chance to make it right. Anyone in her place could understand then why she'd spent all of the day before in searing shock, unable to process the simple language typed onto the page indicating that she would be stripped away from his mentoring and be placed under the tutelage of Nicodemus West. She could blame the tears which refused to slide down her cheeks blurring the words together. She could tell her roomate that Haole isn't her native language. She could make up any number of excuses for why she'd received the letter. Instead, she'd come here first thing in the morning. Hadn't bothered with office hours. Hadn't made an appointment. Barged in like Horatio Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar, and set the letter and a perfectly made cup of coffee: quad espresso, single origin, pour-over, 200-degree temperature, steamed milk, one pump hazelnut, two pumps vanilla, cinnamon sprinkle. So softly she might have been drownt out by the beating of her heart and the tick of his watch telling time, she'd demanded to know why he was sending her away. She'd not expected the answer she got. But neither had she ever forgotten. Perhaps especially now when Stephen stands on the opposite side of the barrier she'd cast only moments before; a thick blister of raw magick shot through threads of spiritual mana which provides a double-lock against the demon hovering over her. It isn't that the Sorcerer Supreme can't fight his own battles. Quite the opposite, in some ways he can out fight her on many fronts. But this creature has particular wants and Beth cannot say for certain that Stephen would have walked away from this unscathed. The demon has courted the Sanctum night after night. Infiltrated dreams with false promises and bargains requiring only desire existing. Those very tender young souls and a couple of the yearning elder ones were easy to collect as leverage. It turns and leers at Stephen, mocking laughter rattling around inside of her head and likely his too. It wants him to watch. It wants to sup on his anger and misery, savouring the anticipation. Thick, noxious saliva drips down its fangs as it swings its head back toward her. It bathes her in foul breath and Beth looks literally a little green around the gills. "You should go now, Stephen. I got dis."

[eucmh]

ABOUT

October 28, 2023 Doc Snafu getting Medical Surgery on November 2, 2023. (Nothing really serious but right hand will be over for weeks). EUCMH needs a little help - Thank You

Welcome to the site. Just a few words before, I just want you to know that the entire project EUCMH runs only on donations done by our visitors. Being on rent now, I'm 68, I have no other way to keep this online and this is why I am asking you to understand that it is not easy full time. So, think about and if you can help, just do it. You can donate via Paypal and get a bill (upon request) or you can also in the side bar of every single post do a donation via Give or even via Crypto Currency, USDT (TRC20). A big Big thank you in advance, Gunter G. Gillot (aka Doc Snafu) Gunter G. Gillot, a.k.a Günter G. Gillot Jr (G for Georges), a.k.a Doc Snafu, born unintentionally in Aachen, Germany on May 4, 1955, has exhibited a profound interest in World War Two since his early years. His fascination with this historical period stemmed from his frequent visits to the Krinkelter Forest with his parents during weekends for more than 15 years. Gunter is one of five siblings, having three younger sisters named Katryn, Catherine, and Carole, and a deceased toddler brother. Katrin resides in Heidelberg, Germany, while Catherine resides in the Sainte Marie de la Mer along the Mediterranean Sea in France. Unfortunately, Carole passed away at the age of 44 due to cancer. Gunter's toddler brother also met an untimely demise in the early 1950s. Volunteering for the Belgian Army in the Zone of Occupation in Germany, Gunter's military service stationed him in Düren, Germany, for one year (1973-1974), followed by Siegen, Germany, for another year (1975-1976). During his time in Siegen, he encountered Annegret, whom he later married in 1976 upon his return to Belgium after being discharged from the army. Gunter and Annegret were blessed with three children: Cindy (39 years old), Kimberley (36 years old), and Gary (30 years old). Cindy opted to remain at home and continues to reside with Gunter and Annegret to this day. Kimberley, who experienced a failed marriage, is currently in a committed relationship with Jordao. Kimberley and Jordao are working towards making Gunter a grandfather by September 2023. Tragically, Gary suffered severe injuries approximately ten years ago when he was struck by a young female driver under the influence. The accident resulted in significant damage to his foot and severe brain trauma, leaving him in the process of recovering and reintegrating into everyday life. Despite these challenges, Gunter, now 68 years old, has persevered and maintained his lifelong passion for World War Two and the American soldiers who liberated his parents' and grandparents' generation in 1945. Since 1995, Gunter has been managing the European Center of Military History, dedicating his efforts to preserving and disseminating accurate historical information. He takes great satisfaction in the absence of comments on the center's website, as he exclusively relies on original archives authored by those who actively participated in combat. Gunter's commitment to ensuring textual precision has allowed him to achieve his goal of presenting the most accurate accounts. During his transition from an expert in ammunitions and civilian explosive ordnance disposal (EOD) to a historian, Gunter found guidance in Charles B. MacDonald, a World War Two veteran who served as his spiritual mentor. MacDonald not only provided Gunter with a path to follow but also imparted knowledge on avoiding the publication of sensationalized texts that often cater to the financial motives of post-war individuals seeking maximum exploitation of the subject matter. The European Center of Military History, an esteemed institution dedicated to the preservation and dissemination of accurate historical information, operates as a genuine non-profit endeavor. Its primary sources of funding are derived from Google Adsense advertising and, on occasion, generous donations from the readers of the website. As an organization committed to upholding historical integrity, the European Center of Military History relies on financial support to acquire essential materials such as archives and photographs. These resources play a crucial role in enabling the center to create publications of the highest quality, characterized by meticulous research and comprehensive documentation. While donations from readers are gratefully received, the center often encounters financial limitations in acquiring the necessary materials for its publications. The costs associated with procuring archives and photographs can be substantial, making it challenging to achieve the level of perfection and accuracy that the center strives for. As a passionate advocate for historical accuracy, the European Center of Military History kindly appeals to its readers and supporters for additional contributions. These additional funds would greatly assist in acquiring the materials required to enhance the publication process, ensuring that the center continues to provide valuable historical insights and educational resources to a wide audience (1.75 million in the past 6 years). By investing in the European Center of Military History, individuals have the opportunity to directly contribute to the preservation and advancement of historical knowledge. Their generous support through donations can help bridge the financial gap, enabling the center to acquire the necessary materials and deliver exceptional publications that uphold the highest standards of accuracy. The center remains committed to its mission of fostering a deeper understanding of military history, and it sincerely appreciates the support of its readers and the wider community in sustaining its important work. The European Center of Military History is currently undertaking preparations to establish a comprehensive "Then and Now" photos directory. While I possess knowledge of numerous locations relevant to the project, the accessibility of these sites varies, with some being open to the public and others situated on private grounds. Consequently, I am actively planning to procure professional photography equipment to ensure the production of high-quality images. Maintaining a commitment to precision and authenticity, both in textual descriptions and accompanying photographs, remains a primary objective for myself and the center. The discerning nature of my readers and the majority of visiting historians necessitates an unwavering dedication to accuracy. To fulfill this objective, the acquisition of specialized equipment is imperative. However, due to financial constraints resulting from my current rental status, the cost of acquiring such equipment proves prohibitively expensive and beyond my means. Given the circumstances, any assistance or support in obtaining the necessary photography equipment would be sincerely appreciated. The expenses associated with procuring this material are substantial, making external aid vital for the successful realization of the "Then and Now" photos directory. Support from renowned entities in the industry, such as Kodak USA or Kodak EU, would be particularly invaluable in furthering the project which would costs about 12K. By securing the required resources, the European Center of Military History aims to ensure the highest quality representation of historical sites and their transformations over time. The inclusion of professional photography equipment will enable the center to accurately capture the essence of these locations, providing an invaluable resource for researchers, historians, and enthusiasts alike. The establishment of the "Then and Now" photos directory represents an important step towards preserving historical authenticity and advancing our understanding of the past. Any assistance received in acquiring the necessary equipment would greatly contribute to the center's ability to deliver comprehensive and reliable historical documentation, enhancing the overall value of the project to the scholarly community and the public at large. The last point of this behalf is that I use only Paypal for this because I don't want to collect personal informations about my Donators until they request it. Last be not least, the European Center of Military History welcomes the participation of Guest Writers, a term employed to denote individuals, including children, who contribute to the publication by sharing their parents' diaries discovered in attics or other similar locations. The center acknowledges the inherent value of such personal accounts and encourages their dissemination as a means of enriching historical understanding. The opportunity to collaborate with Guest Writers is a cherished aspect of the center's mission, as it recognizes that history, like freedom, possesses an immeasurable worth that transcends monetary considerations. The inclusion of Guest Writers offers a unique perspective and enhances the diversity of voices within the historical narrative. These contributions bring forth firsthand experiences and personal recollections, shedding light on the multifaceted aspects of historical events. By fostering an environment that embraces the accounts of individuals who have stumbled upon family diaries or other pertinent artifacts, the center cultivates a deeper appreciation for the intricate tapestry of human experiences during significant periods of history. It is of paramount importance to remove any hesitations surrounding the written form, as the European Center of Military History views historical knowledge as an invaluable asset that must be safeguarded and shared. Therefore, if there is any uncertainty or apprehension regarding the articulation of these accounts, the center is ready to assist in the editing and refinement process, ensuring that the essence of the historical narratives remains intact while adhering to established academic standards. In recognizing that history holds a value beyond measure, the European Center of Military History emphasizes its commitment to providing a platform for Guest Writers and the unique contributions they bring. By transcending the confines of monetary considerations and embracing the spirit of historical exploration, the center endeavors to uphold the integrity and accessibility of historical knowledge, fostering an environment where the diverse voices of Guest Writers can coalesce and contribute to a more comprehensive understanding of the past. Doc and Maryline Solwaster (Jalhay), Belgium June 12, 2023

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[the-cat-chat]

July 1, 2023

War of the Worlds (2005)

An alien invasion threatens the future of humanity. The catastrophic nightmare is depicted through the eyes of one American family fighting for survival.

JayBell: This was a movie that I was too scared to watch as a kid when it was first released, and it took me almost 20 years to finally watch it. Young Dakota Fanning was “the” child actress of the early 2000′s. It’s great to see her in these roles because she always does an amazing job. Of course, Tom Cruise is always Tom Cruise. He’s one of those actors that I can never fully separate the actor from the person.

Overall, the special effects hold up pretty well. The foghorn noise that the aliens use is scary, and the aliens themselves look pretty cool. My only complaint is that the alien’s laser gun or death gun or whatever weirdly kills people but has their pants fly up in the air? It’s so comical to see the people disintegrate but have a pair of jeans fly up at the camera. I don’t know why the clothes don’t just blow up with the people, because it really ruins the scary vibe.

Tom Cruise’s character is kind of an asshole and not a very engaged father, and I think the movie portrays that very well. You can feel the awkward disconnect between him and his children, and even the resentment that the kids have for him. At the same time, you understand that he is very dedicated to ensuring their survival above anything else. I like that they don’t make his character like a super father, where all of a sudden he has a great relationship with his kids because of this catastrophe. No, the disconnect remains, but the potential for forgiveness and a better relationship in the future is there.

The scene that stands out the most in this movie is the extended scene with the crazy guy in his basement or shelter. The movie is able to really build this tension and fear. It reminded me strongly of A Quiet Place. This is also the moment that Tom Cruise’s character does go to the extremes to protect his child.

The biggest problem I have with this movie is the teenage son. In the beginning, I understood his resentment and anger at his father. But in the middle of the movie, he keeps trying to run away from them, and I didn’t really understand it. Finally, he does run away when they encounter a big showdown between the army and the aliens because “he has to see this.” What does that mean? See what? It’s not like he can join the army right now and jump into a tank or something, so I was very confused by his character in these moments. I would rather his character just got lost in the crowd and meet up with the rest of his family in the end.

But all in all, a solid apocalypse/doomsday movie.

Rating: 6/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: Just as a disclaimer: I’m not the biggest Tom Cruise fan. 😬 That being said the movie was decent and I can for sure see that it would be absolutely terrifying in a movie theater back in 2005. Tom Cruise killed the stupid, mean dad troupe and Dakota Fanning of course, as always was superb. The guy from Shameless was good as the brother (Justin Chatwin) especially when he started acting all - one for the cause or whatever all that weirdness was.

The plot was really good- and the whole time was just trying to figure out well how are they invading? what are their little ray guns? what’s the aliens plan? what’s the plan for everyone else? how does Tom Cruise not know his child is allergic to peanuts?? Typical dad. why’s the alien so into looking at the guy from Shawshank’s basement junk? Typical alien. What I’m saayyying is it definitely has enough to keep your attention and keep you engaged with the story. Allllsoooo can we just talk about the fact that after having their car jacked by a MOB- and loosing their gun to said MOB- and witnessing MURDERS from said MOB- and then being stuck on a ferry that another MOB was desperate to board- only to get attacked on the boat- and seeing your son get blown to smithereens- and your daughter taken by randoms- your just going to to go into a weird guys basement??? I’m not an expert when it comes to decisions in general, let alone under suuuuuch stress but come on. That’s stranger danger!

The like viney- guts and blood stuff is simply atrocious. Gives me Glenn in the blender vibes, if ya know what I mean.

Ummm and the ending great- like honestly. I’m so glad the mom(who is pregnant??) is just chill at granny’s(which is unscathed????) when the dad and girl show up. I’m peeeeved that Mr. Save the World bro somehow just said “eh forget them I’ll go find mom at gran’s” like what???? Great and all. But what??? Like they were in the same field??? They weren’t in that basement that long?? His dad was screammming, his sister was screaming??? Whatevs.

The idea that the alien just died bc they can’t handle the biosphere and all our little bacterias is cool and an idea you don’t really see explored a lot.

I really thing the bum hole looking vacuum that grabs people from the cage in the aliens like pod with legs things reaaaaally take it down a notch bc it has burned itself in my soul.

Rating: 5/10 Aliens 👽