Tumgik
#and it's yet another one of his cunning schemes that smacks him in the face later
ifeelbetterer · 5 years
Conversation
BUT HAS ANYONE CONSIDERED
Stunned mortal who just saw a miracle happen: What's your name, angel?
Crowley, who really shouldn't be caught dead doing one of Aziraphale's miracles, and who's about to invent a whole ass angelsona named Raphael: Oh, haven't you heard?
29K notes · View notes
oddnub-eye · 3 years
Text
The Eyes of the Wily
Emer is my favorite character in the Ulster Cycle, and I had a very wacky joke theory about Tochmarc Emire, which you can read here. A lot of the other details here that aren't based from Torchmarc Emire are headcanons regarding Emer's family. Obviously, this will not be 100% accurate to the story its mostly based on, but I did try and remain mostly faithful, outside of the things altered to fit the overall nature of this story. That being said, I hope you enjoy.
Also gonna put this under a read more because it turned out to be pretty long.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Scibar was the oldest of his siblings, by a rather significant margin. He had his father’s dark hair and his mother’s blue eyes. When Scibar was only a lad, his father first told him, “He does not have the eyes of a tricky man. Those are the eyes of a man too hard and too soft at the same time. He shall be raised as a warrior. He may not be a great one, but he shall be one.” Scibar, whether consciously or not, started studying his father’s eyes after that. What did his father have that Scibar did not?
When Fiall was born, Forgall ignored his first daughter. “We’ll marry her off at the first opportunity. With Scibar to inherit the Dun, we need not worry about an unworthy heir inheriting this house.” Scibar’s mother did not respond. Scibar was used to this look from his mother, this look of passivity. As if she was dead to the world around her. Her eyes were not the eyes of his father, or the eyes Scibar saw staring back at him when he gazed into the clear water of a calm river.
Ibor was the next born, and Scibar could swear it was the happiest he’d ever seen his father. “The eyes of a wise man!” Forgall had cheered, “We may have a worthy inheritor to this house yet!” It was not until years later that Scibar realized how casually his father had toyed with the idea of disinheriting him. But, as with all of Forgall’s other children, Ibor ended up disappointing him. Ibor didn’t take to his father’s talk of tricks and plans, cunning and schemes. Ibor preferred to spend his time learning the blade with Scibar, or using his gift with words to sing songs and tales.
Cat was born next and with him came a surprise. Cat was the first child Scibar’s mother was allowed to name. Forgall saw Cat and instantly turned from him in disgust, brazenly telling his mother to name him. Cat’s eyes were the same color as Scibar and their mother’s; blue. The blue of Cat’s eyes shone like a blaze light, completely unlike the colors of the sky Scibar’s eyes invoked. It was to the surprise of no one that Cat took the blade like his eldest brother, showing the most talent and passion for it.
But then, Forgall’s last child was born, another daughter. However, with the birth of this one, tragedy came into the house of Forgall the Wily. Scibar’s mother passed away giving birth to this final child. Forgall, as Scibar expected of him by now, remained distant even here, simply handing this final child off to Scibar to hold before carrying his wife’s body off to prepare for burial. Forgall later named his final daughter Emer. Emer hair was unlike her father or her mother’s; the golden locks of her mother appearing dirty with strands of interwoven browns.
Emer was talented, talented behind even her father’s wildest expectations. In all seven gifts of womanhood, she surpassed Fiall, surpassed even her late mother. Young as she was, her voice was like the gods, and she carried wisdom beyond her years. By her seventh year, she was even teaching the girls surrounding Forgall’s dun.
Scibar didn’t actually remember the day the love of his youngest sister’s life appeared very well. He remembered the basics, sure. The blazing young warrior, with his tri-colored hair and seven pupils, appeared in his chariot. Scibar distinctly remembered laughing trying to watch this small, young boy leap out of the chariot. Despite his intimidating chariot and the talons upon his fingers and toes, he was merely a whelp. He could have only been Emer’s age, and he was certainly small for his age.
Scibar didn’t bother to watch the young love blossom. Ibor did, and Scibar didn’t make much not. Ibor was a poetic soul, the blossoming of love was right up the ally of something he’d want to watch.
Emer skipped into the dun later that day, a silly smile plastered on her face, singing a little song about how she was going to marry Cú Chulainn, how he would fulfill her marriage conditions and she would go to join him in Ulster. Forgall shot up from where he was sitting, saying, “Fiall has not been married yet, you cannot be married. Besides, that boy is too wild, he shall bring about our ruin.”
Scibar had known his father long enough to know that “our ruin” meant “my ruin.” The silly smile fell from Emer’s face and the light retreated from her gray eyes, replaced by a more passive look. No, that wasn’t quite right, Scibar decided. There was...something underneath that passive glare.
That night, Forgall donned the disguise of a gaulish king, telling his children he would deceive Cú Chulainn into a fool’s errand, to keep him from marrying his daughter. Emer was present in the back of the room, and Scibar noticed it once more. That passive glare with something beneath it.
Cú Chulainn arrived the next morning to say his goodbyes with Emer, and she warned Cú Chulainn of her father’s attempts to destroy him. The young hero acknowledged her words, and he set off for Alba.
One week later, Emer innocently asked her father if she could move her room into the dun’s treasury. “You call me your greatest treasure father, may I not sleep surrounded by the others?” The request seemed innocent enough, and Forgall dismissed it as a woman’s vanity. Ibor raised an eyebrow but ignored it otherwise.
A month later, Emer met with her brother’s and convinced them that they should start guarding their parts of Forgall’s three walls separately.
“You are father’s most trusted. It is best not to put all your eggs in one basket, your prowess should not be focused on one wall.”
The logic checked out for the three brothers, although Ibor once again seemed to know something. Scibar didn’t think it was important, so he didn’t bother asking.
Midway through the year, Forgall tried to marry Emer off to a man named Lugaid. Emer rejected the man, speaking of her love for Cú Chulainn. Lugaid backed off, not wanting to experience the wrath of Cú Chulainn.
Cú Chulainn returned from his training, and Forgall sent a guard to keep him from marrying Emer. They kept the Hound at bay for a season, until Cú Chulainn’s anger finally boiled over, and he stormed the dun with his full strength.
Scibar was standing at his post in the walls, within the group of nine men, standing at its center. The young Hound of Ulster descended upon them, and Scibar braced himself for conflict. Scibar almost felt bad, that he’d have to kill the lad who made his sister so happy.
Of course, in the time it took Scibar to think that, the men standing next to Scibar had been felled in one blow. Cú Chulainn leapt away, to the next wall, and then the next. Soon Ibor stumbled towards his brother, unharmed, but deeply, deeply rattled. Scibar walked over to his brother, but Ibor smacked his hand away.
“I’m leaving, brother. I’m going to become a bard.The path of the warrior is not for me.” Ibor slurred out quickly, mind clearly abuzz with thoughts. Cat came next, clutching a shattered spear in his hands, a quiet grin upon his face.
“I blocked a hit.” Was his youngest brother’s only words. Scibar only nodded, looking at the path of warriors who had fallen. Anyone who hadn’t directly engaged Cú Chulainn had lived, but the three brothers had engaged the Hound, so why did they still breathe?
Scibar was knocked out of his thoughts by a shout, and the brother’s turned to see their father’s body crash into the ground, his old bones shattering with the impact. The three pairs of eyes that Forgall had rejected when he first saw them, could now bring themselves to feel nothing at his fate.
Scibar looked up and watched as the Hound of Ulster soared above them, performing a great feat of leaping, Emer in his arms and Fiall clutching to his tiny form. The treasures of Forgall’s dun also were held. Emer was laughing as she soared through the sky in his arms.
Cú Chulainn and Emer were married later that day, after Forgall’s allies had ambushed the couple at the fords between Scenmenn and Banchuing, the young Hound fought off all of them, killing many. Cat would later follow his sister and new brother-in-law to Ulster, with hopes of one day joining the Men of the Red Branch. For now, he settled for joining the boy troop. Ibor followed through on his promise to become a travelling bard, visiting his brother’s and sister every now and then to share his stories. Scibar, however, stayed at the dun of his father, inheriting it.
The dun’s new owner would be lying if he said he didn’t smile when he replaced the bed his father had rejected his children upon with his own.
It was a family reunion, a banquet and a feast. Scibar’s family, his sisters and his brothers, surrounded him at the table, drinking and eating merrily. Emer had brought her husband, of course, and she looked so happy laughing next to him as the duo partook in the feastivities. It had been so many years since Scibar had become the owner of this dun…
Ibor leapt onto the table, and decided to sing the tale of how Cú Chulainn had joined their family. Scibar largely toned out of the beginning of the story, he was there for most of it, after all. Until something Ibor said got his attention.
“And our beloved sister told the hero, “No man may travel these plains unless he has gone from Samhain til Imbolc without rest, killed 100 men at each ford between Scenmenn and Banchuing, performed the feat of the Salmon’s Leap while carrying twice his weight and gold, and struck down 3 groups of 9 men with one strike each, leaving the middle man of each group alive.”
Ibor smiled his smile, the smile of a bard, “Isn’t that right, sister?”
“Yes, it is!” Emer laughed, confirming Ibor’s account, “Those were the conditions I layed for Cú Chulainn in order to become my husband!”
“And I succeeded!” Cú Chulainn laughed, throwing an arm around Emer’s shoulder, joining in with her laughter. Cat followed soon enough, almost as if he didn’t remember, or didn’t care, that he had been so close to not being the man in the middle.
But that was not what Scibar focused on. For what felt like the thousandth time in his life, Scibar took a hard look at his sister’s eyes. The passive light was gone...no, no, it was never there, was it? Only a fake light, a facsimile of passivity that had fooled Scibar all these years; a facsimile that fooled their father his whole life.
Scibar finally burst out laughing with the rest of his family, but not because of the song being sung or the drink running thick or the memories everyone was spending the night recalling. Scibar laughed at the irony that the one pair of eyes his father may have accepted were the eyes of the one who was the first to reject that man.
5 notes · View notes
subsandwichguy-blog · 5 years
Text
Alun
Once there was a cool boy named Alun Lub. He was brave, cunning, clever, and most of all he loved fish sticks! In fact, he couldn’t get enough of them!
“Fish sticks for breakfast, fish sticks for lunch, fish sticks for dinner!” Alun would say.
Sometimes he would be so hungry for fish sticks, he would just walk the streets screaming, “fish sticks, fish sticks, fish sticks!”
Alun was the best.
When he wasn’t busy scheming for fish sticks, you could find Alun at the bank chatting with his friends.
On one particularly fun day, Alun was at the bank having a great discussion with an old friend named Doug.
“What year is it?” asked Alun.
“I don’t really know how to answer that,” said Doug. “You see, I do not subscribe to keeping track of my life through dates and hours. I track everything based on how many smiles I’ve made or how many yards I’ve raked. My time is based on good deeds.”
“How many yards have you raked?” Asked Alun.
“2,” Said Doug.
“Oh no,” Said Alun.
“What’s the problem?” Asked Doug.
“I haven’t paid my taxes in 9 years,” cried Alun.
“Freeze! We got you!” Said Doug, pulling out a pistol and a police badge.
“What’s happening?” Said Alun.
“This is a sting,” Said Doug. “We’ve been trying to catch you for a long time.”
“Daaaaang,” Said Alun sadly.
“You’re goin’ away for a long time, brother,” said Doug.
Doug cuffed Alun and brought him downtown to prison where alun wasted away for four long years.
...
4 years later, Alun doing was pull-ups in his cell while his cellmate/best friend Rub was writing a letter with a smile on his face.
Coming down from the pull-up bar, Alun asked, “What are you writing?”
“A letter to my coworkers. Wishing them luck at work!” Said Rub.
“That’s awesome!” Said alun.
“Yeah I used to sell pool tables,” Said Rub.
“Yep!” Said Alun.
Just then, a prison guard smacked the bars of the cell with his nightstick and said, “Letter for Alun.”
“That’s me,” Said Alun.
Alun grabbed the letter and opened it. He read it carefully and then began to weep.
“What’s wrong, buddy boy?” Asked Rub.
“I have a son,” Said Alun.
“What? No way!” Smiled Rub.
“Yep,” Said Alun. “And he’s a race car driver.”
“Daaaang,” Said Rub. “Let me see that letter.”
Rub grabbed the letter and gasped.
“What is it?” Asked Alun.
“It says here that your son has a big race coming up and he wishes you could be there!” Said Rub.
“If only I wasn’t serving a life sentence in prison.” Said Alun.
“Well maybe we can do something about that,” suggested Rub.
“Yea like what?” Asked Alun.
“Maybe we could break out,” Said Rub.
“Okay!” Said alun.
That night, Alun and Rub began plotting their escape.
...
The plan was set. Rub and Alun got ready for bed and ate their nighttime prison granola politely.
They munched and crunched when the prison guard came to the cell door and whispered, “alright boys. It’s time for bed.”
Neither Rub nor Alun answered.
“Hello?” Said the guard. “I said it’s time for bed.”
Again, there was no answer. The guard looked in the cell with concern. He rattled the bars with his guard gun, yet the boys did not stir.
Finally, the guard fiddled with his keys and unlocked the cell. He walked over to Alun and checked his pulse. Gasping, the guard said, “Oh no. The boy has choked on his prison granola!”
Just as he was about to turn and check Rub’s pulse, the guard was knocked over the head and fell to the ground unconscious.
Alun sat up and high fived Rub who was standing over the guard with the book he had used as a weapon. Together they looked down at the guard.
“I think it’s only appropriate that we honor him,” Said alun.
Rub agreed and the two friends kissed the guard on his chubby cheeks.
“You are honorable,” whispered Alun to the guard.
Taking one last look, Alun stood up and nodded to Rub. Immediately, they jumped out of their cell and sprinted through the prison hallways shouting, “Goodbye prison! We’re flying the coop! Just like chickens! Ha ha!”
Soon, they reached the exit and pulled the door open. A blast of fresh air blew over them and the boys breathed it in.
“Here we go again,” Said Alun.
Then amigos ran out of the prison and for the first time in a long time, they were free.
...
Being free was a lot more difficult than Alun or Rub had anticipated. For starters everything in the outside world had changed.
“What in the world is chicken nuggets?” Said Rub.
“I don’t know,” shrugged Alun. “I was hoping you could help me understand what is meant by the phrase, ‘Hello I am a doctor. I am here to give you a medical examination.’ It was said to me by a woman who appeared after I filled out some paperwork and waited in a room for 30 minutes.”
“I am not sure,” Said Rub. “Sounds like a load of bologna.”
The two friends laughed, but it was still all so strange. They walked the streets and begged for tomatoes or shrimp, but no one seemed to trust them.
After many hours, Rub suggested they change out of their prison clothes and go buy some new outfits. Alun was so excited because he loved fashion.
They walked into a nearby store and began trying on outfits immediately. Hours passed and the boys had made their selections.
First, Rub presented his clothes. He went with a stylish pair of leather shorts followed by a really cool black velvet tank top. Rub chose not to wear shoes because he wanted to feel the earth between his toes. Alun thought the outfit was the coolest thing in the world.
Now it was Alun's turn to reveal his findings. Nervously, Alun stepped out into the showroom and Rub gasped. Alun was wearing underwear and socks. It was perfect.
“This was fun,” Said Rub. “Let’s go get some subs.”
“I think we should go find my son,” Said Alun. “I would hate to be late to his race car race.”
“Alun, I need to talk to you about something,” Said Rub.
“Okay,” Said Alun.
“Come get a sub with me and I’ll explain everything,” Said Rub.
So Alun and Rub sprinted to the nearest sub shop and ordered two chubby subs. They sat down and scarfed away.
“So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Asked Alun.
“You don’t have a son,” Said Rub.
“What?” Said Alun.
“Yeah,” Said Rub. “I made the whole thing up.”
“But how?” Asked Alun.
“I hired an actor to come in and give you a note that I wrote,” Said Rub.
“Why would you do this to me?” Cried Alun.
“Because I wanted to give you the time of your life,” Said Rub.
Alun thought this over. While it would have been nice to have a son, he realized that it would have been impossible seeing as how he had been a celebrated celibate. He also thought about the last few days with Rub, and realized that they had been the greatest days of his life.
“Okay,” Said Alun. “I forgive you.”
The friends high-fived and went back to eating the subs.
“Hey,” Said Rub.
“Yeah?” Said Alun.
“I got us two tickets to see a race car race tonight. Do you wanna go with me?” Asked Rub holding up two tickets to a race car race.
“You know it!” Said Alun.
The finished their subs and sprinted over to the race car racetrack where they ordered two diet sodas and watched fast cars race one another for the title.
It was a great night.
The end.
1 note · View note