#even with all the times I gave forgiveness. all the times I gave compassion. it meant nothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elmhat · 3 months

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DISC WAR FINALE - TUMBLR SIMULATOR

(The posts here are ordered from least to most recent, since I figured it was a better experience to read them chronologically.)

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Mwahahaha… They'll never find my evil lair where I do evil things. Evilly. That I gave them a compass to

#sorry for vagueing #everything I do is mysterious

12 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

just said my final goodbyes before my inevitable death and my friend couldn't even be assed to put on a shirt??

#cw nudity

56 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

boats are so fucking boring man send me some asks or something

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm about to kill you, can you please take this seriously

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

why'd you make it so fucking far away

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Sorry I didn't realize you were THIS SLOW

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

can you just give us the coords

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Then it wouldn't be dramatic

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

it's not dramatic when you're having a whole ass conversation about it either

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

fuck i shouldn't have posted that. who am i gonna talk to now i'm fucking lonely i have no one

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

no one at all

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🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

EVERYONE SHOULD BE AT THE PORTAL!

If you don't see one of your mutuals here please tag them, it's gonna ruin the moment if someone shows up late

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

@evilwarcriminal

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

DELETE THIS

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💿 fuckdream123 Follow

#rigging is allowed

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🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

he has an elevator, we're doomed.

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Can you get off your phone. I'm trying to monologue

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🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

New ask game cause I'm sick of waiting, tell me what you think dream is doing rn and I'll tell you how much death I think he deserves

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🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm kinda busy rn but can someone remind me later to post my villain monologue? It's only a first draft but I had to spend all my time setting up my lair. And also blowing up that country a few weeks ago

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🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

I stg punz is being so sus. what's he even waiting for. he better be paying by the hour

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🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

listen I think I'm gonna die dream is about to take my phone the coords are

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🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

Fuck this I'm going through @dreamsno1traitor

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

WAIT I NEED TO GO FIRST STICK TO THE SCRIPT

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💿 fuckdream123 Follow

HOOOLY SHIT BITCH BOY LOOK AT THIS BITCH BOY BITCH DROP YOUR ITEMS IN THE HOLE ✨BITCH✨

#cw nudity #again #can people please wear clothes around me thanks

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🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

/ tw prison

/ tw loss of canon lives

/ tw near death experience

/ tw getting defeated by your archnemesis

I won't be able to post for a while.

78 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

ooooohhh look at me i'm skeppy! in the skeppy cage!! can't believe that fucker made this wtf is this place

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

okay i'm done now bad where did you go @baddestboi-withahalo i need to get out again @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo

💎 goodestboi-withahalo Follow

Thank you for accepting this job opportunity

18 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Guys get out of my inbox. Your hate anons aren't even effective if I don't have a phone in prison

6 notes

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Hey I'm back from the dead

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

REALLY????

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Sorry forgot the /j

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🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

Good job today guys. Yeah. Woo. I'm very happy.

#forgive me if I sound too excited

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

#I need to be vague about this cause he follows me on here #but I think my best friend almost just traded my life for two pieces of plastic #it was a pretty stressful situation though #ig I can't complain too much #am I weird for thinking that's not normal for a friendship? #sorry #I'm probably being unreasonable #they were some really nice pieces of plastic #you can lmk what you think in dms if you want #just please don't send me asks about this situation #I really don't want him to see #neg #discourse

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🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

it's great that we got dream but we need to go after @.bloodforthebloodgod next

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

what's happening what

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

go away i thought i blocked you

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

FUCKKJL YOU TECHNOO

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

technoblade is cringe

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

you literally tagged me

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

yeah cause i needed my followers to know where to send the death threats

28 notes

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

Pandora's Vault is now open to visitors!

Just be aware that the entry process is a lengthy one with several waivers to sign. Plus there are a couple of annoying manual searches along the way. The prisoner is also highly dangerous, he will get inside your head and control your thoughts, transforming you into a servant to his every whim, destroying your very soul from within. I'd recommend not visiting at all actually. You can if you want but I wouldn't. If I were you. That's just me though.

#just me and him

103 notes

(Here's another dsmp dash simulator post I made!)

#long post #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp #dashboard simulator #lore thoughts #dsmp dashboard simulators

277 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 10 months

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The Impossible Choice (8)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

When Lyanna walked into chamber informing her that her husband wanted to see her, she felt joy and horror at the same time. She was pleased that he desired her so much that he wished to spend another night with her.

However, she didn't know how to explain to him how sore she was, she was sure that no matter how gentle he might be, he would cause her pain and discomfort. She reasoned, however, that he might show her understanding in these delicate, feminine matters.

She entered his rooms shaken and frightened, fearful of his reaction and froze in disbelief; what she saw in front of her eyes made her voice hitch up in her throat, although she wanted to scream with all her might.

Her sister, Floris, was lying on the stone floor, sobbing loudly, all red, and her husband pressed her to the ground with his foot on her chest.

She couldn't believe that this was really happening.

She couldn't get any sound out, shocked and shuddered when she heard her husband's mocking voice.

"Your sister came to suck my cock. What should I do with her? I don't think this is what she expected when she knelt before me."

She felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her head, even she didn't fully understand the meaning of his words, but she knew more or less what they meant.

Her own sister had come to her husband's chamber to seduce him.

She felt burning tears under her eyelids, which involuntarily began to run down her face and pressed her lips together, holding back any sound that might come from her mouth.

She heard Floris sobbing even louder at his words, almost screaming, but she could no longer find any compassion for her. Her husband was clearly frustrated by the sounds coming out of her chest, because he pressed her harder to the floor with his leg.

"Shut the fuck up." He hissed, looking down at her with a stony face.

For some reason, she felt satisfaction at the sight.

He could agree and take what she wanted to give him.

She knew that what her sister was going through was a brutal humiliation, that she should stop it, but some part of her was enjoying it.

As she began to beg her forgiveness, the awareness and pity she had felt came back to her, despite the immense pain and her burning, betrayed heart.

When she saw him take out his dagger she decided that this was all going too far.

"Let her go." She said weakly.

She looked at him and saw in his cold gaze that he would be ready to hurt her sister if she said a word.

She thought that he was dark, frightening man, but for some reason that thought did not repulse her.

Her violent husband chose her once again over her sisters.

He finally gave up on his idea, deciding to respect her decision.

"Get out." He said lowly, walking over to the table and taking a cup from it, drinking almost its entire contents.

She saw her sister turn on her stomach, trying to rise from her knees, trembling all over, sobbing loudly under her breath, her hair and nightdress in complete disarray.

She thought it was a hopeless, sad sight and that she even felt sorry for her, that it would be hard for her to go on, living with such humiliation.

Floris left the chamber quickly, terrified, and she wanted to follow her out, to speak to her, to ask her how she could have done something like this to her, but his voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?" He asked coolly, and she stopped, feeling a shiver pass through her at his tone of voice.

She looked at him and saw that he was extending his hand with his empty cup towards her. She pressed her lips together, wiping her nose, all runny from tears.

She took the jug in her trembling hands and prayed not to spill anything, not wanting to upset him.

She was afraid that drunk and angry, he would still want to take it out on her.

To take her, despite her pain and crying.

She refilled his cup halfway, not wanting to encourage him to drink more. However, this gesture only made him more upset.

"More. Do you begrudge your husband wine?" He hissed, and she pressed her lips together humbly, immediately reaching back for the jug.

"Forgive me, my prince." She mumbled, refilling his cup to the full, stepping back and waiting anxiously for his further orders. He stared at her intensely, his eye dark and misty, dangerous, she felt her heart in her throat with fear.

"You may leave." He said finally, turning his back to her, sitting back in his chair in front of the fire, taking a loud sip of wine.

She felt a huge sense of relief at his words and swallowed loudly, however, she hesitated.

She didn't want to be alone.

She didn't want to cry in solitude in her bed.

She wanted to stay with him.

She saw him glance over his shoulder at her, hearing that she hadn't moved an inch.

"May I sleep in your bed tonight, my husband?" She asked quietly, humbly, pleadingly, as tenderly as she could.

She felt a warmth in her belly when she called him her husband; she thought that it was so wonderfully pleasant to say those words, to be someone's wife, even if not entirely of her own free will.

She saw that he had turned his head away, taking another sip from his cup. He was silent for a long moment and she began to fear that she had frustrated him again with an unnecessary question.

"Yes." He hummed, and she let the air out of her mouth quietly.

"Thank you, husband." She whispered and moved slowly towards his bed, hiding under his sheets.

Only then did she allow herself to analyse what had happened.

She knew that her sisters had wanted this marriage, that they had competed in front of each other to be the chosen one, she understood their frustration, but she was their sister.

They preferred to humiliate and destroy her just to extract something for themselves, to give each other at least a moment of satisfaction.

She felt tears run down her cheeks onto the pillow under her head at the thought, but made no sound of her own.

She didn't expect him to come to her, embrace her or comfort her.

It was enough for her that he was in the same room.

That he didn't take her sister, although he could have.

She probably wouldn't have found out about anything, naively believing that everything was perfectly normal. She resisted the urge to let out a moan of despair and cuddled her face into her pillow, trying to fall asleep.

She awoke in the middle of the night, complete darkness all around her, only moonlight illuminated the chamber. She rose to sit up, looking around the room, sensing that her husband was not lying next to her. She saw that he was still sitting in his chair by the long-smoked fireplace, slumped slightly, his head resting on his shoulder.

She thought that he must have fallen asleep like this, drunk.

She wondered if she should wake him, tell him to lie down on the bed, decided against it, didn't want to frustrate him again.

She rose quietly, taking one of the quilts in her hand, and silently approached him barefoot. She covered him as gently as possible, doing her best not to make any loud movement. She looked at his sleeping face and sighed quietly, thinking that not even the scar and the lack of an eye could make her not see him as a handsome man.

She silently admired his long, shiny white hair, looking truly angelic, his unusual, sharp jaw, long, pointy nose and full, soft lips. She felt a pleasant tingling between her thighs at the memory of him kissing her.

She thought that he wasn't repelling her at all.

There was something about him that attracted her, despite his dark, scary nature.

She couldn't stop herself from touching him and gently brushed the back of her hand over his cheek, then rised her fingers to stroke his soft hair. She felt a wonderfully pleasant, comforting sensation as she did so, forgetting for a moment the unpleasant events of earlier that evening.

She moved away from him, not wanting to wake him, and walked slowly towards the bed with the intention of sleeping further. She shuddered when she heard his helpless, quiet mumbling.

"Don't leave me, mother."

She looked over her shoulder at him, wondering if she'd really heard it or if she'd just imagined it and saw that his chest was rising restlessly as if he was dreaming some kind of nightmare. She fought with herself, not knowing what to do, afraid that if he woke up, he would be furious with her. However, she couldn't help herself.

She approached him again, sitting down on his lap in his chair, her hand ran tenderly over his scarred cheek. She felt him flinch all over, frightened that he was awake, but he only caught her arm, pressing her hand to his chest. She thought with pain that something was happening inside him that she didn't understand, that he was in pain for some reason.

She wanted to give him some sort of relief.

She slid deeper, hugging his lowered head to her breasts, stroking slowly his hair with her trembling hand. She swallowed loudly, when he snuggled into her suddenly, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

She thought that he was like a helpless little child, so in need of his mother's care and tenderness.

She understood him, because she herself lacked that after her mother had left this world.

She laid her cheek on his head, closing her eyes, embracing him, stroking his hair with a slow, unhurried movements; she could feel him slowly calming down, falling back into a deep, sound sleep.

She thought that even if he thought it wasn't her, perhaps he was now experiencing some kind of relief and fulfilment that he needed.

She kissed tenderly the top of his head, touched that in this bizarre way she could suddenly be so wonderfully close to him.

She woke up after a long time, terrified, sucking in loud breath as she felt him rise with her, grabbing her hips. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, feeling her heart pounding hard, frightened that he would be furious with her.

"Forgive me." She mumbled, terrified that he would put her outside the door and simply shut it in front of her face, furious, recognising that she had taken advantage of a moment of his weakness.

He, however, to her surprise, did not head towards the door, but to his bed; she thought that perhaps he wanted to lie down to sleep in a more comfortable position.

She was wrong about that too.

He laid her down on his bedding, towering over her, breathing heavily, he could see that he was still drunk, his gaze hazy and cloudy.

She swallowed hard when he slowly begin to undo the buckles of his tunic, looking at her as if he wanted to devour her, she felt arousal at the sight, a pleasurable throbbing between her thighs.

He pulled his tunic off himself in one, sure movement, to her surprise, he also pulled his nightgown off, leaving his chest bare.

Only now could she see how well built he was.

She gasped silently at the sight, feeling warm desire pulsing in her lower abdomen, didn't resist him as he spread her legs and began to untie his breeches.

"Show me your breasts." He commanded, but not as coolly as usual, his voice shaky; whatever he was thinking about the position that he had found her in when he woke up it had apparently made him lose his temper.

She reached right up to untie her chemise, pulling the material aside, letting him look at what he wanted. She heard his low sigh of contentment as he climbed onto the bed, grasping her face in his hands, popping greedily into her puffy, swollen lips.

She murmured, surprised by this sudden passion, she could smell in his breath the overwhelming scent of wine, of smoke, of fire, of his saliva, of his arousal, his lips was thristy and restless, as if he feared that if he would not take the tenderness from her violently, she would not give it to him freely.

He was wrong.

She dared to slip her hands into his hair, to draw his face to hers, to deepen the kiss, her plump lips teasing his, trailing over his face, leaving wet marks on his skin, driving him insane. She heard him let out a soft, low, helpless groan, surprised at how willing she was, as if he expected her to resist rather than be delighted.

Her lips left his mouth once in a while, her hands stroking and rubbing the skin of his cheeks, his scar gently, tenderly, with devotion and acceptance, she could see him struggling with himself, his still unsober mind unsure if this was really happening.

It seemed to her that he decided to find out, to make sure, and began to touch her, the tip of his tongue tentatively slipping between her mouth, running its fleshy structure over her upper lip. She felt his rough, large hands everywhere, on her breasts, her shoulders, her hips, her thighs, running over her body like a map, his touch completely different from that during their wedding night, it seemed to her more natural, primal.

He dug his fingertips into the soft skin of her buttocks, panting with her without pulling away from her lips, swollen from his caresses, she felt like her whole body was on fire as he began to kiss and suck her neck, her hands roaming over his heated, sweaty back.

She sighed when she felt him slide his breeches down a little, just enough for her to feel his swollen, throbbing erection between her thighs.

She no longer cared about the pain or discomfort, she wanted to feel him again, wanted to be his once more.

She threw her head back with a low moan as he thrusted into her suddenly, confidently, all to the end. She had the feeling that this time it was completely different.

That whether he wanted it or not, the two of them were equals.

She sobbed beneath him as he began to move inside her in fast, violent, sharp pace, kneeling in front of her, holding her hips in his hands, rooting into her in this delightful position that gave her so much pleasure, panting loudly with her, his cock opening her wide with lewd clicks of her moisture.

"− yes − yes − yes −" She whined like a prayer, clasping her hands on the sheets around her, moaning along with him, his fingertips clenched painfully tight on her hips, his thighs bumping against the skin of her arse with a wet, loud, perverted slaps.

" − fucking made to take my cock −" He exhaled with delight and she moaned at his words, ashamed, arching like a string, surprised by his sudden effusiveness, his desire to touch her, by everything that he was now giving her.

She squealed loudly as he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, so that she was sitting on top of him. Excited by this new, more comfortable position, she put her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his, looking down at him with misty eyes, letting him slam into her as quickly and deeply as he desired.

He was sliding in and out of her, holding her waist in an iron grip, pushing her fleshy, hot walls apart with the quick thrusts of his hips, making her head spin with pleasure, rubbing her where she needed it.

"− Aemond −" She mewled, and he groaned low, almost animal-like at the sound of his name from her lips, so shameless, private, intimate.

"− fuck − stop −" He breathed out as if her tenderness, her directness was too much for him.

She kissed him greedily, the tip of her tongue brazenly and tauntingly licked his, causing him to make that wonderfully low, broken sound again.

She clasped her hands on his cheeks, running the tip of her nose over his face, bouncing with each of his pounds, feeling as if she were in some wonderful frenzy of elation, she rose and fell, whining his name, and he panted helplessly beneath her, his thrusts sloppy and dirty.

"− no − please − fuck! −" He clenched his teeth, not really knowing what he was asking for, pressing his face into her breasts, coming hard deep inside her with a loud groan of pleasure and anger.

His helpless words made her come a moment after him with a surprised moan of relief, a wonderful, tickling sensation of delight spread through her body like a hot wave, while she was falling and rising on his still hard cock.

They were both panting, trembling all over, hugging each other after this strange, sudden, frantic closeness that neither of them had expected.

She wasn't sure what had actually happened to her and felt ashamed of her perverted, shameless behaviour.

She thought that her husband was arousing something in her that she didn't understand, and his unintentional closeness was causing something to be released in her, some wonderful desire that she hadn't known before.

It was only now, sitting on top of him, snuggled into him, feeling him still pulsing inside her, panting hard that she realised she was trying to mimic his movements, wanting to see if it would feel good.

And gods, it felt so good.

Once in a while she placed a kiss on the top of his head, brushing her fingers through his hair, running her hand down his bare back, she felt goosebumps on his skin every time as she repeated this sensual, gentle gesture, their breathing began to slowly calm down.

She shuddered when she felt his large hand on her back, his fingers tentatively traveling up and down her spine, apparently wanting to reciprocate her gentle caresses that were so foreign to him. She pressed his face to her breasts, sighing with delight as she felt shivers of pleasure pass through her with each of his strokes.

"− my husband −" She whispered tenderly.

He murmured, closing his eye and simply let himself drift off into the world of these pleasant, gentle, subtle sensations.

She felt that after a moment they both began to fall asleep, cuddled into each other in this semi-sitting position. He leaned over suddenly, laying on his side with her, his face still snuggled into her chest.

He slid out of her gently with a loud click of her moisture and his spend, grunting with displeasure and made himself comfortable between her breasts, no longer making a sound, letting her embrace him as she pleased. She laid her cheek against the top of his head, closing her eyes.

She thought that this night was the first time that she had seen her husband as he really was.

She woke up just before dawn, unsure of where she was, feeling someone's arm embracing her waist, his large hand on her half-naked breast, slipped under the untied material of her nightgown. She turned her head in that direction, frightened, and saw the face of her husband lying next to her, sleeping a stony sleep.

He smelled of wine.

She pressed her lips together at the memory of what they had done.

She was afraid of his sober mind's reaction to what had happened, that he would accuse her of taking advantage of his condition and weakness.

That he didn't want it at all.

He was asking her to stop, but she didn't understand why, as his hips, instead of slowing down, accelerated, his fingers, instead of letting her go, dug more firmly into soft skin of her hips, rooting his manhood deep into her with such intense thrusts that she had to clench her hands in his hair for balance.

She thought with pain that although she wanted to sleep on by his side, believing that he knew what he was doing, she should leave.

She reasoned, swallowing quietly, that after the way he had forced her to leave the day before in the morning, today would surely be no different and she wasn't about to find out, waiting like a puppy for his approval.

She figured that she would leave on her own.

And he, if he wanted to, would summon her again.

She actually preferred that if he was angry he wouldn't take it out on her right away and could cool off in solitude; if he was happy, nothing would happen if he visited her alone, of his own free will.

She slipped quietly out of his embrace, his low, displeased, sleepy grunt answered her, make her freeze in half-motion. He merely turned over, however, continuing to sleep, and she sighed softly, rising from the bed, walking barefoot towards the door.

She hissed quietly, immediately feeling that embarrassing sensation again as something flowed out of her, a mixture of her moisture and his seed running down her thigh. She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled slightly at the sight of his peaceful, sleeping face.

He looked so gentle.

She opened the door with a quiet clatter of wood and stepped out, closing it behind her.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol

Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines @heavenly1927 @hiatuswhore @it-is-getting-better @linkpk88 @luna-salem @toodlesxcuddles @happinessinthebeing

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starlithumanity · 5 months

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I don't even know what you can say to the people who somehow missed that all of Ed's violence is a) anti-imperial, b) protective against direct repeated threats to himself and his loved ones, or c) self-destructive in the hopes someone will respond by killing him during his suicidal spiral. (That last example is fairly indirect and performative and comes from a place of severe nihilistic suffering.)

I don't know what you can say to the people who somehow missed that the violence is triggering and traumatic and exhausting for Ed, and that he is desperate for a chance to live differently but has also never known any other life. Stede gave him the one true glimpse he's had of something gentler! Ed didn't fully know how fucked up his life was before because that was normal to him. That's what growing up traumatized does to you.

I don't know what you can say to the people who somehow missed that the suicidal spiral is a result of Ed's circumstances: of Ed being threatened by Izzy after Izzy repeatedly found ways to force Ed back towards the violent life Ed wants so much to escape, of Ed losing his one glimpse at safety and happiness through Stede and now having to face the darkness knowing he nearly found something different, of Ed feeling like the only way he can survive in this world is by being an "unlovable" monster he hates--and then he's confronted by Izzy telling him he's still not getting it right. Of course Ed gives up then.

I don't know what you can say to the people who somehow missed the show's themes about how much harm is caused by toxic masculinity and by masking your true self and by cultures founded on trauma and self-hate and burnout. (You do see the burnout in Ed, yeah?)

I do get why some people might not understand the complexities of Ed's relationship with Izzy--how codependent and enmeshed their identities are--or the layers of symbolism that position Izzy in the story as a metaphor for traditional pirate culture and its harmful impact. (Which is particularly triggering for Ed on a daddy issues level because that's his original trauma.) If you understand those things, the unique nature of the physical harm Ed does to Izzy in this story makes even more sense.

Ed also frequently communicates through metaphor himself. Him cutting off Izzy's toes is not only a show trying to convince Izzy he's playing Blackbeard right and not only a response to Izzy repeatedly threatening Stede/continuing to threaten Ed, but also is meant to physically represent the harm that Izzy has done emotionally to Ed. Ed is communicating to Izzy the only way he knows how anymore: "See how it feels to be forced to lose parts of yourself? Stede was a part of me. My hopes of softness and joy were a part of me. You cut those off too."

There is so much evidence against the thought that Ed is some irredemable, monstrous lover of violence who will hurt Stede someday. Stede would have to repeatedly and directly threaten someone else Ed loves first (which Stede won't do), and even then, Ed would really have to fight with himself.

It's not his nature, y'all, and I'm so frustrated that some people keep insisting it is. I'm frustrated about what that says about people's ability to empathize and consider reasons for or contexts behind behaviors--particularly when the character in question is an openly queer and likely neurodivergent indigenous man. Is it so hard to have compassion and forgiveness for him? Please don't get stuck in that punitive, dehumanizing mindset.

Redemption is so important, which is why I appreciate that Izzy gets a growth arc once he stops centering his entire identity on the Blackbeard persona and clinging to toxic masculinity. (Seeing Stede's impact, how different things could be, vs. the harm caused by the traditional ways, changes Izzy too!) Izzy's time, as a side character and mentor figure and piracy metaphor, does end, but first he gets to live with more meaning and unlearn many of the negative behaviors. That's the goal, right? To move forward.

#i try to avoid negative discourse but damn guys #edward teach #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #my stuff

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chuunai · 4 months

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may i request scenario (12) cheating on you with prompt 7 "only if you knew how much i liked you." drabble pls, with dazai, fyodor, and chuuya? those characters were the only ones that popped into my mind lmao . . .

yes ma’am the angst is gonna go crazy and this is gonna be without Fyodor because so many others asked for him TvT

✧˚ · . whose heart could I break today? - BSD men when they cheat on you

He loved you. But he couldn’t help it.

summary ⋆ ★ angst, cheating, minor NSFW, crying men (chuuya)

Dazai Osamu:

It was just a mission at first. You two were sent to infiltrate a party and intercept a parcel. Easy, right? That’s what you both thought at first. His lips gave yours a short kiss before walking into the building separately. No one should be able to link the two of you together, after all.

Of course soon after entering Dazai was already being pawed at by rich women cooing at him for just a second of his time. A small bit of desire had risen in his lower abdomen, but when he saw you across the room, he urged himself not to be misled. He was a scoundrel, but he wasn’t a cheater. So why was it that barely half an hour later he found himself locked in a room with some woman he hardly knew, hushing her with his fingers while he pounded into her?

A woman that wasn’t you. When he came back out, clothes slightly disheveled and skin glistening with sweat, you knew. Oh, how that dread hit you like a train. How you wished you really were hit by a train in that moment when he looked at you and knew that you knew. You felt so fucking dumb. So stupid to believe his words that he was loyal to you and you only.

There you were, a broken heart and the realization that your partner cheated on you. Your now ex-boyfriend.

When you left the party—the mission completely forgotten by the both of you—he soon followed after, fingers outstretched to grasp your shoulder, lips aching to say how sorry he was and that he just couldn’t resist her. But he held back. Let you walk away as he stood there in the rain, a sad smile on his face.

Yet another one lost. All because of him. Dazai Osamu couldn’t ever keep anything, could he?

Chuuya Nakahara:

Alcohol. The one thing that he resented now.

The thing that made him lose you. Dimmed his moral compass and loyalty to you. Chuuya’s always been such a loyal person. Hell, he was a puppy when it came to you. Or at least used to be. But he fucked it up. Became too tipsy one night at a bar when you weren’t there because you were at your job. Chuuya took another woman to your home, to your shared bed.

While you worked, he fucked.

Chuuya felt so guilty when the high wore off and the girl went home. When you got home, he immediately told you and begged for forgiveness, getting on his knees even and sobbing that he didn’t want you to leave. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he drunkenly rambled about how you were everything to him.

You left the next morning.

He took the day off—the whole event hitting him coupled with his hangover—and let the memories wash over him. Countless kisses stolen, nights in bed spent gossiping and binging Netflix. Not to mention the more tender ones. You going with him to the Flags’ graves on the anniversary of their deaths. Reassuring him that he was human when he swore he wasn’t. Why didn’t he realize how much you two were meant for one another?

Nakahara Chuuya once had a soulmate.

Now, he lacked one.

A.N: I think you can tell I put in more effort for Chuuya. don’t complain.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts

#bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #soukoku x reader #cheating #bsd angst #angst #no comfort #no happy ending #ok why is my writing for Chuuya so much better than Dazai’s????#probably not that well proof read honestly

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ronkeyroo · 3 months

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A positive Update

Friends, kind folk - Hello Again 🤍

Ever since my last update post, I've been thinking about it , a lot ;; I knew I needed time to cook and reflect, and im so glad I gave myself that...

2024 started rough for me; I fell severely ill again - I was too busy cursing my life and dwelling over how betrayed I felt by things still not getting better despite my efforts that I didn't realize I was walking into a self fulfilling prophecy. Its true that the struggles I'm going through are yet to be solved, that its gotten so much to the point giving up seemed easier, and that a couple individuals haven't been making it easier on me either; I swayed and i rattled and I steered within feelings ranging from confusion to anger to dismay and all of this back and forth did nothing but remind me of yet another self-destructive loop I just don't want to allow in my life anymore. Its exactly the kinda stuff that made me ill to begin with, and I've been so lost dealing with everything in between that i forgot to tend to the actual core centering all of this...

It grew unbearable how much emotional and physical turmoil I was pushing myself into, and knowing how intertwined these two elements have been; I had to draw a line before i majorly screwed myself over, gathering any bit of inner will to discipline myself back into some sort of clarity, enough to at least look through a lens OUTSIDE my pain for once, towards the kind of life I want to lead, and the kind of life I don't; and I came to an understanding.

From my physical state to my mental, to the people and memories I've experienced, both the good and the bad - I want to prioritize the good.

Not in a shitty ass, toxic optimism kinda way but in a "I want to prioritize knowing and living the possibility that even when it hurts, even when i want to be gone, even when life doesn't align - There's still every good reason in the world to keep moving forward, to face things from a perspective of growth & compassion, and to grow to love the promise of a better tomorrow even when today was unbearable." To know that I don't end or begin in my suffering, that the infinite potential I speak so fondly of applies to me, as well...

I want to be able to wield and create and share that goodness, too, Especially when it is already in decline...And for all gods sake, to internalize that all of this STILL exists and STILL matters even when it doesn't work the first couple or dozens of times.

As for my place here in Tumblr...I know the sentiment might feel silly to some but the experiences, memories, and connections I've made here have truly been such a significant force in my life, and i don't want to give up on that ;; Not because of my own insecurities, or an inner state of hopelessness, and especially not over a bunch of emotionally immature Anons that dont know how to handle themselves; I want to forgive all of that.

I'm stubborn, and there's an unyielding force within me that no matter how many times it is struck down, it proved itself ridiculously resilient. I'm perking up with with a fiery confidence realizing just how many times it rose back up, enough to realize it is an unchangeable part of me ;_; I shouldn't underestimate that force, and I want to keep living by its side. Whatever positive change I can sprinkle onto my life and the lives of those I care for, I will! And the reason why this space in particular is so important to me, is because so much of that already exists here, alongside you folks;

THAT'S the kind of energy i want to nourish and walk into the new year with! I want to continue growing as a person, challenging my inner turmoils, undoing the self punishing dogmas that still haunt me, stop flexing my teeth over things that don't deserve my time and god DAMN, just - indulge in the stuff that makes me happy, even when I'm going through unhappy times.

So yeah...I guess that means, I'm back & I'm staying ;_;)🧡

I know i may seem like a broken record when it comes to expressing gratitude but - Thank you, thank you thank you everyone who have reached out for me, who so fondly kept me in their thoughts and kept encouraging me whenever i was hurting, both then and now...You folks mean more than whatever ailment or struggle I can go through, and while I'm unsure of how the future will look like as I'm still going through various challenges- I couldn't have asked for a cooler, sweeter audience to have by my side whenever Its time to take a rest or hype over our sexy delicious blorbos!

Speaking of which....................I have been cooking quite a lot of things in the time i was away 👀✨ I most definitely intend to serve them, eheheh

#Ronkey Posts #Waving a tired yet happy hello #Back from the dead and ready to SLAY or just to relax and chill and remember that goodness is a force undying ;_;#i missed you folks so much...

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brummiereader · 4 months

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No Son Of Mine (One Shot)

Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?

Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!

"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.

" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.

" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.

" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.

" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.

" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.

" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.

" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.

"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.

"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.

"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.

" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.

" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.

" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.

" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.

" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.

"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.

" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.

" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.

" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"

It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.

" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.

" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."

" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.

" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.

" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.

" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.

" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.

" He'll be no son of mine"

Six years later...

" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.

" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.

" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.

" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.

" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.

" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.

" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"

" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"

" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.

" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.

" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.

" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.

" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.

"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.

" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?

" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?

"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.

" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.

"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.

" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.

Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.

" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?

" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.

" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?

" You said boys..."

" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.

" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.

" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.

" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.

" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x son #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby one shot #cillian murphy

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imhenritz · 7 months

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Giving him the love he deserves (Sanji x Reader) Part 2

Phew, wipes brows, I think it’ll be a good idea to continue until it comes to a conclusion.

Reader is still Mc (Main Character), but I made it sound like it's a name! I'm still too lazy to think of a real name. Forgive me!

The prompt for the story is: "The reader gets sucked into One Piece after wishing that someone would love Sanji like he is supposed to be loved, as nobody has given him a chance. She would love to give him that chance if only she could. One time, she was in her room, falling asleep while recording her voice for a cover request sent to her. When she woke up, she found herself in a boat floating, wearing pieces of jewelry fit for nobility. Her neck, ears, and bracelets were all glittering in the darkness."

Part 2 under the cut. Part 1 here

Under the soft, flickering glow of the ship's lanterns, Sanji found himself engulfed in a sea of emotions, his heart tumultuous and restless. Mc's melodic soft singing floated into the room, a gentle lullaby to his troubled thoughts. His worry for her, his anticipation for their future together, all clashed within him, a storm threatening to overwhelm his senses. Her decision to join the crew, made without their usual shared deliberation, left him touched by her independence yet troubled by the absence of their partnership in this significant choice.

As Mc entered the room, she seemed to sense his unease, her steps light and graceful. Her touch, like a caress of understanding, brushed against his cheek, her eyes filled with tenderness and compassion.

"What's wrong?" she inquired, her voice a soothing melody that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace.

"Darling, my love, I..." Sanji's voice wavered, his emotions a tangled mess. "I was worried. Worried that you made this decision without me."

"I'm here in your room, aren't I? I'm just about to talk to you..."

"But you already said yes."

Her eyes narrowed playfully at him and tapped his nose. "Unless you got ears around me, you wouldn't have heard the condition I placed before saying yes."

His heart sank. He doubted her, but she shook her head, her eyes softening with understanding. "I told him the condition I gave Luffy was that he takes you as our chef or I would have had to decline. He already asked for you, Ji."

Sanji's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of relief and gratitude flooding his senses. He cupped her face gently, his touch tender yet desperate to convey his emotions. "I... I'm sorry for doubting you, Darling. I love you. You know I do, so much-I was just-"

Her fingers traced a reassuring pattern on his cheek. "-I understand," she said, her voice filled with unwavering determination. "Zeff had already agreed to it a long time ago, and I would never leave you behind. I'll fight tooth and nail, even kill if I have to, to stay by your side."

Sanji felt a surge of emotion, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Her words, saturated with love and determination, washed over him, cleansing his worried soul. He realized he had been anxious for nothing; her commitment to their love was unyielding, dispelling his fears like dawn breaking through the night.

In that moment, Sanji's heart swelled with profound gratitude for the woman before him. His eyes, usually sharp and confident, softened with the intensity of his affection.

"I swear. From now on, I'll always believe in you, Darling," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I adore you"

Mc smiled, her eyes shimmering with unwavering resolve. She placed her hand over his, pressing her lips against his palm. "And I, you, Ji," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "Just ask me, and I'll always be honest with you."

In that moment, the storm within Sanji's heart calmed, replaced by a profound sense of peace.

---

Under the twinkling night sky, the Baratie resonated with the lively sounds of a party in full swing. Sanji, momentarily taking a break from his culinary duties, made his way to the fish head, where an open space and a bustling bar awaited him. His keen eyes scanned the room, but they always found their way back to his darling. She glided about the ship with a purposeful grace that mesmerized him. The tray she carried was a culinary masterpiece, a feast fit for kings that elicited appreciative sighs from those lucky enough to catch a whiff of its fragrant aroma.

Whispers of gratitude followed Mc like a sweet melody, a chorus of appreciation that echoed her every step. Usopp and Zoro, their steadfast resolves easily swayed by the promise of a good meal, succumbed to Mc's delectable offerings. Sanji's brow furrowed, an unsettling pang of jealousy pricking at his normally composed demeanor. He scoffed disdainfully, dismissing their newfound friendship as mere bribery, drawn in by the irresistible allure of her food and drinks he made.

Nami, the ship's sharp-witted navigator, kept a watchful eye on Mc from a distance, her gaze as sharp as the swords Zoro carried at his side. Suspicion etched lines on her face as she observed Mc's interactions. Unperturbed by Nami's icy demeanor, Mc extended a warm invitation, her voice carrying a friendly undertone. "Why not join them, Nami? Our sous chef whipped up a delightful dessert tonight."

Nami’s response was a simple shake of her head, a refusal that hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. Sanji, known for his admiration of women, felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness for Mc. His irritation with Nami deepened, a storm swirling beneath his calm exterior. He was hot-headed when it came to someone being relatively mean and cold to his loving girlfriend.

"More for us, then!" Usopp chimed in, oblivious to the tension. His grin toward Mc was genuine, a testament to his genuine appreciation for her culinary talents. Zoro nodded in agreement, mischief glinting in his eyes.

With a final glance at Nami, Mc continued on her path, her spirit seemed undeterred by the navigator's indifference. Sanji watched her graceful retreat, his heart swelling with admiration for her unwavering kindness.

But he couldn't contain his frustration any longer. He walked to Nami, his voice tinged with annoyance yet laced with politeness. "Was the dessert not to your liking, madame?"

Nami met his gaze, her expression unwavering. "Your little girlfriend shouldn't keep bringing us food. She's drowning us in debt," she replied, her words sharp and precise.

Sanji's protective instincts flared, but he held back, maintaining the gentlemanly qualities instilled in him by Zeff. "That food is deducted from her pay. She's merely extending kindness to the crew, especially since you're the chore boy's friend.” He paused, letting that sink in. With a gallant bow, he added, “If something is not to your satisfaction, Madame, feel free to let us know.”

He turned away, but the unspoken tension still hung heavily in the air. Meanwhile, Luffy, blissfully ignorant of the brewing storm, bounded over, his usual enthusiasm cutting through the discomfort like a beacon of light.

"Hey, what's going on?" Luffy asked, his eyes darting between Sanji and Nami.

Sanji clenched his fists, his frustration evident. "Nothing, chore boy." He frowned. “How did you escape the dishes?”

“Escape? Mc sent me here to get you," Luffy scratched his head, confusion etched on his face. “She said I can just come back tomorrow?”

Sanji's gaze softened at Luffy's words. He took a deep breath, his anger dissipating like smoke in the wind. "No need, I'll be there."

Nami, too, seemed to relent, her shoulders relaxing slightly. With a nod, she acknowledged his politeness.

---

After the tense encounter with Nami, Sanji made his way to Mc's chambers. His knuckles rapped gently on the door, and it swung open to reveal her, bathed in the soft glow of the room's lanterns. She was halfway dressed in her night clothes, an enchanting sight that would have distracted any man, but he managed to keep his focus.

"You know, you can just come in, silly," she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Sanji smirked, refusing to let her playful remark derail his manners. "A gentleman never forgets his courtesy, my love," he retorted, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

The frustration from his encounter with Nami still lingered in his chest. Mc, ever perceptive, sensed his mood. She moved closer, her hand finding his, her touch like a calming breeze. "What happened, Ji?" she asked, concern etched in her eyes.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's Nami," he confessed, his voice tinged with annoyance. "She's been unnecessarily cold towards you. I can't stand it when someone treats you that way."

Mc's gentle fingers traced soothing circles on his palm. "My love, you know Nami has her own struggles. We all do. Maybe something's bothering her."

He grunted in frustration, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. "I forgot for a moment how well you know all of us," he admitted, his voice heavy with exasperation. "But what will happen now? Will she continue to treat you like this?"

"Of course not," Mc's touch was grounding, her presence a balm for his frayed nerves. She guided him toward the bed, and he sat down heavily, his frustration dissipating slowly under her comforting touch. "Come here," she said softly, pulling him closer.

He allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace, his head resting against her chest. She hummed gently, the soothing sound reverberating through him. The scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his, all of it calmed the storm inside him.

"Let's not worry about tomorrow, Ji," she murmured, her voice a melodic whisper. "Right now, in this moment, it's just us. You and me. That's all that matters."

He closed his eyes, allowing her presence to wash over him, grounding him in the here and now. His frustration melted away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. In that moment, he realized that no matter what challenges they faced, as long as he had her by his side, he could weather any storm.

And so, in the quiet of her chambers, under the soft glow of the lanterns, he let go of his worries. He let himself be enveloped by her love, finding solace in the knowledge that they were in this together, bound by love as unyielding as the ocean that stretched out before them. With her singing softly, he drifted into a peaceful sleep, secure in the arms of the woman he loved.

======== In the midst of the soft, flickering glow of the ship's lanterns, the once tranquil atmosphere shattered with the arrival of Mihawk, the formidable warlord whose mere presence sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls. Zoro, their steadfast swordsman, never one to back down from a challenge, boldly stepped forward to confront Mihawk. The crew stood in stunned silence, their wide eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them, panic rippling through them like wildfire.

======== Already drafting part 3! I have fluffs between Mc and Sanji though lined up though that could be a filler. I spent writing those more than preparing for Part 3. Part 3 here

P.S. I didn't know anyone would read it so thank you so much for reading!!

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anamericangirl · 1 month

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Uhhh hey you know queer folk are marginalized? Disabled queer here, and I’m aok coexisting with xtians and such as long as they are all coexsisting w me. But when ppl wish for my existence to be erased and for me to not marry my fiancé… that’s where there’s issues. I will always preach love, I adore churches. I anually go to xtian masses with my mother’s parents. I understand the message Jesus gave. And that was that all ppl should be allowed to exsist. At the end of the day Jesus was a probably queer poc Jewish man who hung out with prostitutes, disabled folk, queer folk, beggars? abd other impoverished down trodden and marginalized ppl.

I’m sorry you feel that we are not marginalized and that we are infringing on your rights. I’m sorry you look and see a mirror of actions on to us.

And I want you to do as Jesus would. And forgive you. Because all ppl are capable of compassion and understanding. And I hope that one day you will understand that too my friend

Hey so you actually don't understand the message Jesus gave at all and it sounds like you've never read the Bible. No offense but you're just objectively wrong about what Jesus preached and who he was.

His message was not "all people should be allowed to exist." His message was that we are all sinners and we are all living in sin and we need to repent from our sins and give our lives to him and follow him and accept his forgiveness and gift of eternal life that he paid for with his own blood on the cross and endeavor to no longer live in sin. Yes, even you.

His message was not co-existence.

However, no one, not even Christians, are actively trying to keep you from existing. People disagreeing with something you do with your life is not even remotely the same as trying to say you should not be allowed to exist and it's time to stop trying to conflate those things.

Jesus was not a "queer poc" man and that's blasphemous tbh.

Jesus also wasn't hanging out with thieves, beggars, the poor, prostitutes and the disabled because they were "marginalized" he hung out with them because they needed to hear the truth of his word and they needed to be saved and to repent of their sins.

He said himself why he hung out with them when he was confronted about it.

"And Jesus answered them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance." - Luke 3:31-32

So for you to try and rewrite that to fit your modern day narrative is, again, blasphemous.

I don't have a problem with you existing and I love you as a fellow human being and Jesus loves you but that does not mean everything you do is ok and that there is nothing God wants you to repent of and leave behind. In order to follow God, like we need to do, we all have things we have to abandon because they are sinful.

And you need to read the Bible and seek God's guidance to discover what aspects of your life are going against God's commandments and leave them behind.

#anon #answered

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happilyhertale · 8 months

Text

Life anchor – Tom Bennett x female!reader, Part 2

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: Misogyny, fluff

Author’s note: Hey you (:

After the first meeting between you and Tom, you can't really forget him. Even though your husband has made it clear to you that he won't tolerate it, you can't wait to see Tom again.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.5k

Part 1, Part 3

Other stories of mine

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Three days passed, and then the moment had come. As you stood at the edge of the harbor, your eyes lifted to see the imposing shape of the ship. Although the idea of spending a day and a night aboard this ship does not fill you with enthusiasm, a glimmer of hope remains within you - the hope of seeing Tom again. Beside you stands William, an unwavering presence. Even as you stood in the foyer of your house, he made it clear that you should behave. A warning tone that made you shudder to the core.

Without many words, you waited with Wiliam for the other guests. You listen, lost in thought, as the water beats against the basin. How the seagulls cry out and fly over your heads. As one by one everyone gathers, your attention is drawn to the captain, who reappears and offers joyful greetings. Under his guidance, you once again enter the ship, but this time you are immediately led to your cabins, which were to house you during the night. The quarters seemed unimaginably small, but the consolation was in knowing that you would not be sharing the bed with William.

Before you even had a chance to arrange your belongings, William had already left the cabin. Along with the other men, he strolled about the ship in unison with the captain, his posture showing mock fascination. He dutifully converses with a few sailors and casts attentive glances at every detail of the ship, seeming completely immersed in maritime history.

As you leave the cabin, you look forward to spending the day without William. You seek out the other wives who have already gathered on the deck. A shared understanding of your collective situation is unspoken in the air, a silent sisterhood bound by unspoken compassion that makes every conversation feel like a comfort.

On the open deck, you have a perfect view of the harbor as the ship loosened its moorings to begin its short voyage. You lean over the railing a bit to watch the dancing waves as the ship begins to move. You focused on the rhythmic motion of the waves as they refracted through the body of the ship, while the hum of your companions' conversations provided a gentle symphonic background.

Yet amidst this tranquil scenery, your gaze instinctively lifted each time a sailor crossed your vicinity. An unspoken longing slumbered within you, a hope that those steel-blue eyes would cross with yours. But with each passing sailor, the tendrils of hope slowly gave way to a quiet disappointment, a subtle shadow that you try to push aside.

A fleeting illusion briefly played tricks on your senses as you thought you spotted Tom among the sailors. A spontaneous and carefree grin appeared on your features, only to be replaced by a startled smile when you realized that it was another blond sailor who happily returned your gaze. Startled by your own reaction, you hastily averted your eyes, and a delicate blush betrayed your slight shame. Inwardly, you admonished yourself to leave this silly fuss behind and regain your composure.

As the evening drew nearer and nearer, you gave up all your hope. During the waning hours, Tom remained an elusive specter that never crossed the path of your gaze, and you are certain that you imagined it all. In the quiet of your cabin, you prepare for the upcoming dinner. Another evening of bad jokes and drunken men. You take another deep breath in and out before leaving your cabin. With deliberate steps, you approach the dining room, already filled with the laughter and conversation. William is sitting there with the other gentlemen and they seemed to have had drinks already as well. At the neighboring tables sit sailors with the marks of their voyages etched on their faces, but there, too, the alcohol is flowing. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but your eyes wander hopefully around the room, but they don't meet those steel-blue eyes.

An oppressive feeling spreads through you as you silently take a seat next to William. An other gentleman - perhaps George - settles at your other side. Gradually, the other wives join you at the table. The drinks flow ceaselessly, making the conversation increasingly awkward. You just hope that William, in his drunken stupor, doesn't get the idea of trying to sleep with you. The pressure in your chest expands again and you long to retreat to the solitude of your cabin. But then the tone of the conversation changes abruptly and you are jolted out of your thoughts. Your fertility is the subject of discussion - and you feel the nausea rising in you.

"Why don't you have a son yet?" George asks William, without even looking at you, he leans forward and looks directly at William.

William is draining his glass and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Y/n just isn't able to grow a son inside of her...", William replies, slurring his words clearly audible.

You close your eyes for a moment and want to just throw up.

Suddenly there is a hand on your thigh and you look down at your thighs, startled. That hand doesn't belong to William and your gaze jumps to George, "Maybe you're not fucking her neatly enough?" And though he looks at you with his glazed eyes and lets his gaze wander over your body, his words are directed at William.

You bat his hand away, but he puts it back on your thigh and grabs you tighter. The other men laugh lightly and you hear William chuckle beside you.

"Well, I guess she just dried up," William says, sipping his next drink. The other women's gazes are on you. The looks reflect a mixture of compassion and hidden relief at not being the topic of conversation.

A haze of tears gathers in your eyes, and with greater determination you slap George's outstretched hand away from your thigh. Despite his insistent grin, you rise from the table, nearly knocking over the chair in your haste. Without a single word, you leave the room, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you exit the dining area.

With a purposeful stride, you cross the unfamiliar path ahead of you. Not knowing your destination, you let your feet guide you, propelled by a wave of raw emotion. The pressure in your chest becomes an unbearable burden, and as tears blur your surroundings, you navigate carefully to avoid accidental collisions. Your footsteps carry you on amid your sobs until you suddenly find yourself on top of the deck, which becomes a place of solitude in the evening hours.

You almost breathe a sigh of relief - a moment of seclusion that gives you peace. Your path leads you to the stern of the ship, where you lean against the railing, your breath coming in rapid gasps, and fatigue settling in your bones. Again you are struck by the calm of the waves crashing against the hull. An almost soothing rhythm in contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Your eyes are fixed on the vastness of the black sea, while your thoughts linger on your inner turmoil. The salty smell of the sea air fills your senses. At that moment, the thought of surrendering to the embrace of the sea and escaping the burden of existence becomes a tantalizing prospect. A heavy gulp follows, hindered by the spreading heaviness that has settled in your chest. Your fingers clutch the railing, your grip is desperate and determined at the same time. Before your mind can catch up with you, you find yourself on the first bar of the railing, suspended between two worlds.

You breathe heavily and feel the adrenaline in your limbs. Determined, you swing your leg over the railing, still holding on tightly to it. You can literally feel the great expanse spreading out behind you, the fresh wind blowing around you and seeming to dispel the heaviness in your chest. Almost magically, the darkness of the sea draws you in. It wants to envelop you, to finally give you peace and quiet. You close your eyes and notice how your fingers loosen around the railing.

"Y/n?" it suddenly sounds and your attention is diverted from your supposed salvation.

You open your eyes and see the steel-blue eyes. The eyes you've been longing for, the eyes that would take the heaviness off your chest.

But Tom doesn't seem relaxed. He looks worried. And suddenly you remember you're on the wrong side of the railing. Your fingers grip the railing tighter again.

"Y/n... What are ya doing...?" he says in a calm voice, but you notice that this calmness doesn't reach the rest of his body.

You don't answer, but your heavy breathing can clearly be heard.

"Please don't do that...", Tom whispers. He takes a step towards you. He moves very slowly, afraid that he might scare you.

"I would have to save ya. Jump in after ya, ya know," he says with a slightly desperate smile.

"You wouldn't have to," you reply quietly, but in a firm voice.

But he just nods slightly and takes another step toward you.

"I'm a sailor... It's my job to protect ya," he says. He takes the next step.

"It's not," you say in an even firmer voice.

"And I'm tired of men telling me what their job is, what to do and what not to do.... What I have to do," you say a little angrily, not paying attention for a moment. Your one foot loses its grip and slips into the dark void, you cry out slightly.

"Hey!", Tom shouts loudly and is immediately at your side.

He holds your arms tightly and tries to pull you back up.

You look at him and breathe heavily. His blue eyes stare at you, taking the heaviness out of your chest.

"Okay. I'm not going to tell ya what to do..." he says softly, but you can feel how hard he's breathing, "But I can't let ya fall into the water right now, okay?"

You nod just slightly, and suddenly you feel a fear that if you let go now, you wouldn't be able to see his blue eyes.

"Come..." he says gently, helping you climb back over the railing. With careful steps, you climb back over the railing. Tom's hands don't even leave your body. Only as you stand in front of him, safe, does his grip become gentler. He begins to gently rub your arms, coaxing warmth back into your being.

After some time, a slight smile plays around his lips.

"Come, I'll show ya something," he whispers.

With a slight nod of your head, you comply and surrender to his guidance. His arm wraps around your shoulders, a support that pulls you close. At that moment, his scent dances into your senses, an intoxicating elixir that completely captivates you. Your gaze is transfixed on his face and you notice the warm feeling inside you that you already felt while dancing. You sink into his pleasant nearness.

Lost in the flood of your feelings, you don't notice the path Tom is taking until he unexpectedly comes to a stop. Standing at the bow of the ship, your eyes are fixed on the distance the ship is heading. Tom places your hands on the railing as he stands close behind you. His arms are wrapped around you as if in an embrace, making you feel safe. His hands rest on yours, his thumbs gently stroking the backs of your hands. Your shared silence makes this moment perfect. You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his nose gently grazing your ear. The sea, once so alluring, has completely lost its magic. Its call is muffled, no longer as irresistible as the refuge in Tom's embrace.

"Don't look behind... You'll miss so many beautiful things...", Tom whispers in your ear, "If ya look ahead, you'll see much more beautiful, new things."

When you turn your gaze to the side and meet his eyes, goose bumps run down your skin. At that moment, tears well up in your eyes - the expression for the overwhelming feelings that rise within you. It is like a profound realization; a lifetime spent in the sea of uncertainty, and suddenly, as if predestined by fate, he appears. In seemingly no time at all, he reshapes the world you know and makes you the center of his world. A gentle nod escapes you, a wordless approval of the deep connection unfolding.

In the midst of this tender interlude, a soft smile plays around Tom's lips, his touches resembling a gentle whisper as he gently caress your cheek with his nose. The warmth of his breath continues to dance on your skin, a tantalizing foretaste of what might come - but he holds back the kiss. You've never longed so much to feel a man's lips. It's a moment suspended in time, full of unspoken promises and the exquisite tension of a love that is just beginning to unfurl its wings.

"Let me take ya to bed..." he suddenly says softly.

Your eyes widen as your breath catches in your throat and your cheeks flush.

"Not like that, love," he says immediately when he sees the blush on your cheeks and chuckles briefly.

"Well... actually, yes, but no," he adds and again he manages to elicit a laugh from you. He smiles at you, "I like your laugh much better than those sad features," he says softly. You feel the heaviness in your chest fade into the background with Tom at your side. Again you lose yourself in his gaze.

"Okay, sailor... Take me to bed," you say with a slight smile.

"At your service, milady," he says with a smile. Gently, he withdraws from you, carrying with him the comforting embrace of his presence. Immediately, an all-encompassing longing blossoms within you, yearning to be enveloped by his nearness once again. Hesitantly, your grip around the railing loosens, and you turn to face Tom. He stands there in his uniform, giving you a bright smile, a beacon of reassurance. He extends his hand, a silent invitation, and you grasp the life anchor he offers you. Gradually he leads you along the path to your cabin, each step a harmonious dance of shared anticipation of what may be to come, and at the same time with the conscience that your time together will soon be over.

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Tag list:

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @bellaisasleep @snh96

#tom bennett #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fluff #world on fire #lois bennett #ewan mitchell #prince aemond targaryen #osferth #tom bennett x reader #baby monk

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eddiemuonson · 6 months

Text

you gotta let me know - part 2

Summary: Eddie tells you what happened that night. You try to apologize to Steve once again, asking about his feelings for you. Christmas is right around the corner and the bookstore is the go-to place to buy gifs.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Munson!reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff. Word count: 3.6k

previous chapter

You were still sitting at the table, listening to Eddie finally tell you what happened that night. He had a very careful tone, choosing the right words and explaining why you acted recklessly.

Noises were coming off of his mouth, but it was all a muffle to you. You stopped paying attention a couple of minutes ago when he said "he likes you". He emphasized that Steve admitted he still cared about you, even after that.

"He said he never wanted you to find out like that, told me he was waiting for the right moment" Eddie was holding your hand over the table, feeling your body tremble. "Harrington asked me, better, he begged me not to mention that to you. Because he wanted to tell you that. I just didn't know when."

You nodded. You felt your mouth shut on a thin line. Too shocked to even speak up.

He knows you need to take your time, to understand what happened. To understand why all this time Steve decided to be away from you. All you could think about was that he actually liked you back. You felt like blades were crossing your chest, leaving a piercing pain all over it.

And then, it made sense to you the way he reacted when you still couldn't remember what you said, or did back then. He was hurt because you found out he liked you, and you overreacted. You made him look like a fool in front of a lot of people.

You soaked him with alcohol in front of too many people, yelled at him, and called him bullshit. Not only that, but you left Steve perplexed and shocked by your attitude.

It's no wonder he didn't want to talk about what happened. When you realized what happened, you didn't know how to react.

You had too many drinks, and you said too much. You weren't even sure why you did that. Were you so afraid he would actually like you?

"W-what did I do? Eddie, what the fuck did I do? Why did I do that?" You started crying again, pleading. Your eyes were burning from the tears.

Eddie looked at you with compassion. A look of pity too, perhaps. Your brother knew you wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose, but the alcohol made you too vulnerable.

"Y/N, you drank too much. Something would obviously happen. I mean, the least you could've done was stop drinking that much when you realized where this was going" He tried to calm you down. "You're weak to alcohol, and you know it."

You nodded. You couldn't disagree because you really wanted to drink. You used your free hand to rub your forehead, squinting your eyes in desperation.

"Does he ever want to see me again after today? I wouldn't want to see me, Eddie" Tears were streaming down your shirt.

Your stomach was tied to a knot, and you felt like throwing up.

"I don't know, sis. We're around each other all the time, and he probably still wants to avoid you. Unless you got a bigger plan" Eddie tried to be reasonable.

Deep inside, he wanted to flick you in the forehead and call you stupid. He wanted to yell at you and tell you that you shouldn't be drinking your ass off like that.

But the big brother energy was the only thing he needed to offer right now.

Your only bigger plan was to cry out loud and beg for his forgiveness. Maybe if you embarrass yourself enough in front of him, he will feel like giving you a second chance.

"I think you need to get some rest and figure out something later" He said, his hand still on top of yours.

"Thank you, big bro" Your hand squeezed his and he mirrored your soft smile.

"Just promise you won't ever get your ass drunk like that again. Next time, I'm gonna shove you at the pool, so you cool off" Eddie gave you a warm hug, almost choking you.

Laughing, you pushed his shoulder and left for bed.

As you stood behind the counter at the bookstore, surrounded by shelves of books, the thoughts of that party six months ago loomed large in your mind. You were still determined to find a way to apologize and make things right, but it wouldn't be easy.

The weight of your actions and the fear of the consequences are constantly on your mind now. And you knew that you couldn't keep avoiding the issue for that long.

You just couldn’t imagine how Steve felt right now. You wanted to kiss him so bad that day, you wanted to smush his face and tell him you loved him, and now you can’t even talk to him.

Dustin came close to the counter, carefully watching as you were stuck in your trance. The boy waited for the right moment to call you, but you were still absorbed in your thoughts.

He called you two, three times, and nothing. He snapped his fingers in front of you, still nothing. He knocked on the counter, and you woke up with a snap.

“Jesus, does your boss know that you sleep with your eyes open during your shift?” He joked as he held a handful of books in his hands.

“Shut up, Dustin” You retorted, seeing his small eyes shrink from the amused smile.

“And she still mistreats her customers. I'll report you to him, Y/N” He placed the books on the counter. “I came to return these here. And I’d like to take a look at the new Spider-Man collection.”

“You're almost 20 years old, Henderson. Who likes Spider-Man at that age anymore?”

“A lot of people, okay?” He sounded offended but took it as a joke. “Your little big brother likes it too.”

Nodding your head, you had to agree with him. “My brother likes so many childish things, and I think he spends a lot of time with you guys.”

“He’s also friends with Jonathan and Ste- shit, sorry” Dustin looked sheepish when mentioning Steve, but you shrugged.

“Relax, it’s inevitable to talk about him. Have you two been talking? I know you've been busy with college, and he's been busy with work.”

Walking between the shelves, you looked for the collection of comics that the teen was eagerly waiting to read. You didn't see when Dustin was reluctant to discuss the subject, but he preferred to be honest.

“Uh, yes. We've been going out a lot lately, you know? Us, the boys. Even Jonathan. Okay, yes, he likes to protect Will, but he likes hanging out with us.”

As soon as you found the comic, you handed it to his hands, who smiled widely, waving as a thank-you. “Look, I know you and Steve aren’t doing well. But I think it would be cool for you to try talking to him again.”

It had been almost three weeks since you last tried to talk, and things got out of hand. You and Robin hung out together, but she didn't talk about him. She struggled to give attention to both of you, and she often felt uncomfortable acknowledging the situation.

You walked up to the counter, taking Dustin’s money. He had a friendly look on his face.

"I know you're an amazing person, and Steve knows that. It’s just...he feels bad” He said.

Everyone knew what happened, that was obvious. But should you explain that you were already aware of the shit you did but didn't know how to broach the subject with the man?

And you shouldn't even comment about it with the boy in front of you, knowing that he would open his mouth in an instant.

"Thanks, Dustin. I'll try again." You just didn't know when it would be the right time.

Maybe going to Family Video wouldn't be the best idea, but if you went to his house, there was a better chance he wouldn't answer the door.

So you waited until the end of his shift, waiting outside the store while he closed everything up. Your body was on edge, your hands were sweating and shaking, your throat was closing, and your mouth was drying up.

From the outside, you could see how Steve kept a calm expression, careful as he put the rest of the VHS on a shelf. Maybe this wouldn't work, but how much longer could you put up like this? As he was about to leave the store, Steve ran into you.

His body tensed, and he looked panicked as well. He held your gaze, still standing in the same place, trying to read your expression.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His voice was one of surprise, but he didn't sound angry. Actually, it was far from it.

"Steve... We need to talk again" The tone of your voice was barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, finally closing the door. "No, Y/N. I can't do this right now. I don't want to" He was still reluctant. You watched while he went towards his car.

Holding his bicep firmly, you looked him in the eyes. It had been a long time since you looked at him so deeply, so close like this.

"Steve, I know what happened" Now there was no going back. He stared at you in a confused way. And you slid down the hand holding his arm, releasing him.

"D- Do you remember what happened?" He looked hopeful, then your gaze faltered, and you looked down. You heard his sarcastic chuckle and felt him move away from you. "Huh, so how do you know? Your brother told you, didn't he?"

“It’s not his fault” You defended Eddie. It wasn't his fault, you needed to know the truth. "Let me explain, please."

He decided it was better to turn on his back and leave you behind. But before getting into his car, he turned his body to look at you.

"I don't know what happened to you, but that wasn't the Y/N I know."

"Please let me talk, Steve" You were already crying freely, your hands were shaking, almost begging him for a small chance.

He leaned against the car door, looking sideways, avoiding your gaze. Steve looked down and let out a long sigh. "Come in."

His car smelled like musk, and the essence he used to make the inside smell good. He turned on the radio, a faint music was playing, covering the silence. He looked at you while resting an arm on the steering wheel.

"I- I know how things happened, and I know how shitty of a person I am. Nothing justifies my actions. Nothing. Steve, I don't know why I reacted the way I did, knowing something that was supposed to make me happy. But I freaked out, I panicked”.

You were stumbling upon your own words. “I couldn’t ever imagine it would be possible for a guy like you, who was considered the king of the school, to like me. I don't know what you saw in me, and I know you made a point of making sure that you like me for who I am."

You were too breathless to keep going, and then Steve nodded. He didn't understand why you threw a drink at him and called him bullshit. It was still stuck in his head, etched deep in his memory.

"Y/N... You called me bullshit. In front of everyone. What did I ever do to deserve that kind of response from you?"

The pain was so obvious in his gaze and in his body language. You shook your head.

"I was desperate, Steve. I was afraid that you had made that up as a prank. I will never be able to measure my regret. And I will never be able to explain why I reacted that way while I was so drunk."

He still couldn’t look at you, he would stare at his hands, but not at you. "I expected everything from you. I expected you to even kiss me, considering we were all drinking. But I never expected to be showered with alcohol."

You were biting your lower lip so hard that you could taste the blood. Timid, you reached for his thigh and rested a hand on it. Steve didn’t want to give in, and it was comprehensive.

"I will never forgive myself for what I did. And I don't expect you to forgive me either. But I want you to understand that I would never do anything to harm you” Your fingers stroked his leg tenderly. "You know I love you, Harrington."

"I've known this for a long time, Y/N." His voice was calm. "I don't know how we're going to deal with this, but I need some time to think."

Despite his resentment, he placed his hand over yours, squeezing it gently.

"I need to know if you still like me." Your voice almost cracked, and he didn't respond.

Seconds passed by without either of you speaking. The only other noise aside from your heavy breaths was the music that continued to play. The way things were going at this point, it was easy to deduce that Steve didn't feel the same about you.

“You gotta let me know, Steve,” You asked him. It seemed like he was struggling with himself, like he was trying to decide if it was better to leave it that way or just spill it.

He then raised his head and looked at you. Sure enough, his eyes were teary, and there was no hiding it from you. But when his hand let go of yours, you almost knew for sure what his answer was.

"I still need some time. Can we finish this conversation another day?" You just nodded. "Need a ride?" Steve asked politely, his voice was soft.

"If it's not too much trouble" You let out an embarrassed laugh, and he reciprocated, smiling sideways.

The car stopped in front of your trailer, his radio was still playing a low music, and neither of you exchanged a single word during the ride. At times, you would glance at him, watching the way he was focused on the street. His unstable expression was noticeable.

As soon as you opened the car door, you were hesitant to look at him, but you did so either way. "Thanks, Steve. Have a good night."

He looked at you and softened his gaze. "Of course, Y/N. Say hi to your stupid brother."

You laughed at the adjective he used to talk about Eddie, and he did the same. "Sure thing."

As soon as he left, you closed the trailer door softly and watched as your brother and Uncle Wayne were both looking at you. They had curious expressions while waiting for you to explain to them why you arrived later than you should have.

“Uh, Steve gave me a ride" You said once you took off your shoes and sat down with them on the couch.

While Wayne laughed, Eddie was trying to absorb the information.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Your uncle asked. Before explaining why you came home with him, you sighed.

"I went after him at Family Video. I needed to talk to him, and clear things up. And then he offered me a ride."

"You took too long to get home and that story lasted, like, five seconds" Eddie complained. "I want all the details"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'm going to take a shower. And I need to eat. I'll explain more during dinner.”

You woke up to the muffled noise of Eddie's electric guitar. He was playing some Metallica songs loudly in the living room, hitting the notes and not caring if you were still asleep.

Groaning, you put your pillow above your head and looked over your alarm clock. You still had about half an hour of sleep, but that went down the drain because your brother was being too loud.

"Jesus, Eddie. It's Saturday, why aren't you asleep?" You ask as soon as you open your bedroom door.

He's still wearing his pajamas, and his wavy hair looks like a bird's nest.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed" He mocked, strumming something on his instrument. "Why am I going to waste my time in bed when I can play?"

He was playing Master of Puppets, for the hundredth time.

You rolled your eyes into the back of your skull. "Because it's the most decent thing to do" You respond.

This time around Christmas, the bookstore will always be filled with people buying presents, which is completely ok. But waking up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday was torture, especially because it was too cold outside.

The only good thing about it is that you get a ride with Eddie. Apart from that, everything else sucks.

"Come on, sis. Cheer up, it's Saturday!" He said it louder, and it drove you insane.

You just hated when he was this annoying when he knew you were still sleepy. "If you keep that cheerful look on your face, I'm going to punch you in the throat" Your voice wasn't exactly threatening, but your eyes were shooting flames.

Still, that didn't scare him. He just motioned his body, like he was protecting himself from you. He watched as you sat down on the table, preparing your breakfast.

"You know what? I think what you need isn't exactly called breakfast. You need sex, and like, asap" He mumbled.

You snorted and almost choked on your omelet.

"My God, Eddie. Just shut up and play your music" You tried to avoid thinking about what he just said, it was too cringe coming from him.

But maybe he was right. It's been a while now.

He dropped you off right on time, as the bookstore had just opened. The weather was pretty chilly, and it felt like it was about to snow at any time. You were not a fan of snow either. Everything about winter annoyed you, especially when it was cloudy.

Your mood was terrible, and the first hour slowly passed by. The next few hours were regularly busy, with a few people coming in and out of the store as you helped them out.

Some were trying to make you think about banging your head on the wall. You were already rethinking your decision to work there instead of just being a painter.

Your brother told you many times you should follow that path already, but it's the 80s, so it's not really that easy. So, while you were saving money for college, that's what you had for now.

You were so focused on the pile of books that you didn't see when Steve showed up in the same aisle, looking for something specific. You barely dropped them on the floor after bumping into his back.

"Oh, God. Sorry!" You said it quite fast before realizing it was him.

"No proble- hey, Y/N" His expression changed when he looked at you. It was kind of shy, but soft. "Are you too busy right now?"

Looking down at the books you were still holding, you would say so. But for him, you would do anything right now.

"Uh, not that much. What can I help?" You look up at him, watching his lips turn into a slight smile. You started to feel nervous.

"I'm looking for a few comic books. I'm thinking about a surprise for the guys."

Before leading him to another aisle, you leave the pile aside on a shelf and walk up to the comics section. You take a deep breath.

"Is there anything specific you want? We literally have anything Marvel and DC related. A few Archie comics as well" He watches as you show him the huge amount of books on the shelves. He seems amused.

"I forgot how much you know about all of these" Steve said, feeling his face flush from the comment.

Apart from what happened, he always felt some sort of admiration for you. He was always too fascinated by you and the way you cared about people and things.

"Yeah, I kinda like Marvel and DC. But I don't really have the time to read them. So I just make Eddie sum everything up about the stories for me" You chuckled. You always ask him to explain every issue to you shortly.

It was the first time you saw Steve laugh. A little timid, but still a laugh.

"I'm thinking of Spider-Man for Dustin, as always." He started, and you went looking for the comic.

"Obviously. I'm still shocked he doesn't have a Peter Parker costume by now." You pointed it out.

He listed the rest of his order for you, and you offered him a shopping basket so he could carry the good amount of books you just grabbed.

You led him to the counter, and he gave you the money.

"Thank you for helping me out, really. I just… I was never interested in reading these things."

And you wouldn't know that. It's not like he still knows the Ewoks from Star Wars aren't exactly bears. But he's trying, and Robin is forcing him into it.

"Yeah, of course. If you ever need me, you know where to find me." You started to act awkwardly now.

For a moment, you forgot that you had humiliated him. But he seemed to be going easy on you. Both of you are actually feeling awkward now.

Both of you were holding a weird smile, and there were a few people in line now waiting to be attended to, while he was sort of distracted.

You really wanted to know if he still had a thing for you.

Before leaving, he thanked you for the help and gave you another shy smile. You were still trying to keep your cool after that sudden surprise.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #userashe #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

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fellthemarvelous · 6 months

Text

Warning: I use sarcasm when making points.

I have things to say. (And I'm going to be extremely snarky while saying them.)

Y'all, I love Crowley just as much as anyone else, but the way some people think that defending Crowley means it's necessary to villainize Aziraphale is just gross.

Yeah, Crowley is super easy to sympathize with. We all care about him.

But like...some of these Aziraphale hate takes are insane. (And no, haters, I don't actually want to hear from you unless you want to give me even more fodder to work with.)

"Aziraphale shows compassion for everyone except Crowley." (Actual footage from the very first episode, just to name one example, but okay. I guess sheltering someone who was supposed to be his mortal enemy under his wing was a senseless act of cruelty.)

"Aziraphale doesn't love Crowley." (Wait, I totally utilize my heart eyes for people I don't love too!!)

"Aziraphale has never actually trusted Crowley." (They only helped save the world together though. Weird. And then there was that time in 1941 where he trusted that Crowley wouldn't shoot him in the face while their miracles weren't working.)

"Even in second season when Crowley says "I'm a demon, I lied" Aziraphale doesn't think of Crowley's pain, he was busy being sad for himself. Before this Aziraphale even says "I'm like you now" as if being demon is worse thing than killing innocent children and animals." (Whatever the hell this is.)

This one is just really special. Congratulations on walking into the point and somehow missing it at the same time? That's exactly what makes the system so fucked up in the first place and why Crowley doesn't tell anyone that Aziraphale lied to Heaven. This moment wasn't about Crowley. It was about Aziraphale. Crowley knows the pain and trauma that comes with falling and he doesn't want Aziraphale to experience that?? Aziraphale is allowed to be scared and sad because like, I don't know if you know this, but when you've been indoctrinated into blind obedience, going against the grain is actually really fucking scary because the punishment is terrifying. This is why so many religious abuse survivors relate to Aziraphale?? Also, a demon like Hastur would have killed the animals and the children, so....

"I can not in my sane mind think that Crowley could ever trust Aziraphale with his trauma. He would never share anything that was done to him. Because chances are if he did, he would just be invalidated and belittled. Or worse, he would have been blamed even for it since he is a demon and that's what he deserves (which Crowley already believes to be true)." (What?!?!?!)

Aziraphale, most compassionate and kindest angel there is, would mock Crowley's pain? The same Aziraphale who has been mocked and abused (verbally, mentally and physically) by his superiors would turn around and do the same thing to Crowley when Crowley is the only one who has ever understood him? Aziraphale, the angel who gave the demons a chance to walk away from his bookshop without being hurt, would mock Crowley? Aziraphale, the same angel who had to sit there and listen to Shax mock him and belittle him relentlessly while he protected Jimbriel, would invalidate Crowley?

"Aziraphale only loves Crowley as an angel and not a demon." (Yeah, look how disgusted he is...planning a whole ball just so he could hold hands and dance with his demon. Eww.)

"When Crowley asks for the holy water instead of asking for why he needed something that was so dangerous he immediately jumps to conclusions and then hurts Crowley even more."

I mean other than the fact that we saw what happened to Ligur in season one when he got doused with the holy water, I can't imagine why Aziraphale would be so hesitant to hand something like that over to the love of his life. And he finally did hand it over, knowing he would never be able to forgive himself if Crowley did use it to end his own existence. Not to mention that Hell actually did plan to kill Crowley with holy water at the end of season 1. I would totally jump at the chance to give someone I love something incredibly dangerous to them, but I guess I'm built differently. 🙃 And who cares about Aziraphale's feelings on the subject anyway, am I right?

"Crowley has no reason to trust Aziraphale." (I know right? Aside from the time Aziraphale gave him the holy water even though it scared him or the time he used a human magic trick to save Crowley from having to go back to Hell again or the time he protected Crowley's identity by playing along with Bildad the Shuhite so Heaven wouldn't know he was actually a demon or all the times Aziraphale has offered Crowley sanctuary in his bookshop or when they performed their half miracle together or when they literally swapped bodies.)

"Aziraphale chose Heaven over Crowley because he thinks Crowley is beneath him." (I mean he sacrificed his own happiness to go back to Heaven too, but why bother exploring that when we can all just hate Aziraphale for doing what he thinks is the right thing to do? What even are shades of grey?)

Like I get it. I do. Aziraphale leaving was very upsetting because we wanted to see the Ineffable Husbands get their happy ending. But whenever I see people talk about how rejected Crowley feels, like Aziraphale feels rejected too. You get that, right? And I'm not saying he was right for asking Crowley to go back and become an angel again, but he wants Crowley to be safe and he mistakenly believed it would be that easy.

Just because Aziraphale has a lot to learn doesn't mean he's wrong for going back. Just because Aziraphale has flaws doesn't mean he's bad. Crowley isn't the only one suffering and heartbroken.

And we all saw that the Metatron gave him no time to begin grieving over what just happened. Instead Aziraphale turned around, put a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes, and stepped onto the elevator because he is going to try and make changes even if he has to do it all alone.

How would revolutions get started if people saw no point in trying to change things for the better?

I leaned into bitch mode in this post. It happens.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #i used my sarcastic voice #and i will use it again if you try to come at this post with even more aziraphale hate #aziraphale defense squad #crowley would be really fucking unimpressed with the aziraphale hate too #i'm just saying #crowley would also be annoyed with being so woobified by aziraphale haters #and if you think my religious trauma fuels my annoyance you would be right

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its-jaytothemee · 2 months

Text

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 6

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 1,506; Chapter 6, Tav then Astarion POV

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. Finally getting to some soft Halsin moments...my favorite!

Tav must have drifted off at some point while she was laying in Astarion’s tent. She woke to Halsin softly shaking her shoulders. Slowly, she sat up and took in her surroundings again. The pain she felt from today was still a crushing weight on her shoulders.

“I thought I might find you here.” He said gently, taking her hand in his. “Everyone has been very worried about you.”

She gave a small nod in response. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she was doing here other than punishing herself with the memories. Echoes of their time here whispered into her ears. It was as if she could hear their quiet laughs shared after everyone had gone to bed, she could hear his soft sighs in response to her gentle touches, she could hear his nightmares being soothed away by her comforting words in the depth of the night.

“I just found myself walking here. I…” Tears started to well up in her eyes again.

“Come with me, my heart. I think you’ve tortured yourself enough for one evening.” He stood up and slowly helped pull her to her feet. He hugged her tightly against his chest before helping her walk back outside.

She paused outside the tent, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. She took a few deep, steadying breaths as Halsin wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind. In that moment she was incredibly grateful to have him there with her. He had a soothing presence and his warm arms took away the chill of the evening. They stood there for a moment, looking over the familiar scene.

“Halsin…what’s wrong with me?” She asked softly.

“What do you mean?” He moved his head to the side to look at her.

“I feel so…stupid.” She suddenly felt embarrassed admitting this to him. “I’ve only known him a short time, but I really thought that maybe…maybe…” She trailed off, unable to finish her thought. She took a deep breath.

“I…I loved him.” With that, the tears flowed freely again. “I still love him. And I really thought that he loved me back.” She turned around to sob into Halsin’s chest.

“Why would that mean there’s something wrong with you?” He asked gently.

“Because I should be furious. I’m angry, but I should hate him, by all rights he should be dead to me.” She barely choked the words out between sobs.

“But I…” she continued, sniffling, “I don’t hate him, not even in the slightest. If he came walking back into camp right now, I would forgive him. I’d comfort him and tend to his wounds and let him share my bedroll. Why do I keep giving people chances to use me? How am I this pathetic?” She buried her face deeper into his chest, her entire torso ached from her sobs.

Halsin pulled away slightly so he could lift her chin to look into her eyes.

“Tav, there is nothing wrong with you.” He had tears in his eyes as well. “You have more love and compassion in your heart than this entire city combined. You give without thought of reward and you love unconditionally. You would plunge your hand into your chest and rip out your own beating heart if you thought it would save someone close to you. There is not a single person here in this camp who has not had their life changed by your infinite kindness, Astarion included. He may not realize it yet, but what you did today was a profound act of love. You saved him from himself, even though you knew it meant you could lose him. It may take a day, it may take a decade, but one day he will realize it.” He paused for a moment, studying her face.

“No one here would dare to call you pathetic, so why do you give that title to yourself?” He wiped away a tear from her eyes just as one fell from his.

“I…I’m no one Halsin, I’m nothing. All of my confidence is a façade, trying desperately to keep everyone together. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing here. They’ve put their lives in my hands, and today I lost one of them. Who’s to say whether I can keep anyone else from falling? How am I supposed to lead them? How?” Her voice was getting louder and more desperate, her words struggling to be understood through her cries. When Halsin spoke again, his voice was a soft whisper but the agony in his tone matched her own.

“I know something of the burden of leadership, my heart. I understand the doubt that plagues your mind. I have loved and grieved, carried the heavy load of hundreds of lives lost. Yet even I was all but lost until you came to my rescue in the goblin camp. You brought light back into my life, quite literally banishing the shadows that clouded my mind. You saved everything and everyone I hold dear. You are far too modest, my love.” He took her face in both of his hands, pressing his forehead against hers.

“You. Are. Everything.” He whispered, another few tears rolling down his cheeks.

Tav stared into his wise, gentle eyes, desperate to see the person he saw in her. She may not trust her own thoughts right now, but she did trust him. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into a soft kiss. The tears mixing on their faces and dripping onto her chest. She pulled away and let Halsin hold her against him until she finally felt strong enough to stand on her own.

Tav took his hand in hers and was just about to suggest that they join the others around the fire when a strangely familiar voice called out to her.

“He’s right, you know.” The voice was very timid.

Tav and Halsin both spun around, readying themselves for a fight. A figure covered in splatters of blood and wearing a dark cloak stood maybe five meters away from them. The sight of his messy, white curls and tired, crimson eyes paralyzed her.

“Astarion?” She whispered.

***

Astarion finally arrived at the familiar camp. He kept himself crouched low and against the tree line. He carefully observed the figures around the fire, trying to determine if Tav was with them. Not finding her there, he slowly made his way around the camp’s perimeter, taking extra care not to alert anybody to his presence.

He heard some soft voices not far away, as he kept circling he realized they were coming from…his tent? He kept moving, following the sound of the voices he was now able to identify as Tav and Halsin. As he got closer to them, he could hear the sounds of Tav sniffling and crying, but they were muffled. He was finally able to get to a hidden spot where he could see the two of them. They both looked exhausted. Tav had her face completely hidden in Halsin’s large chest, her whole body seemed to shake from her crying. He could only hear pieces of what she was saying.

“I loved him…I should hate…I don’t…forgive him.”

His whole body tensed at those few pieces he caught. Could she really be saying that she would…forgive him?

Halsin was speaking again, but he couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. He was looking at Tav with such a soft expression. Astarion strained his ears, trying to decipher their words when Tav suddenly cried out, louder than before.

“I…I’m no one Halsin, I’m nothing.” He heard her yell through her sobs.

His heart shattered into a thousand pieces hearing her say that. How could she not see how amazing she is? How could she ever think that she was worthless? He listened as she cried into Halsin’s arms, listened as he told her how incredible she was, how he owed everything he had to her. His praises echoing those in Astarion’s heart.

“You. Are. Everything.” He heard from Halsin’s soft, soothing voice. And she was, Tav was everything to him.

‘Go tell her that.’ He thought to himself.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his palms were sweaty. He thought he was ready to stand up and make himself known when he saw Tav pull Halsin in for a tender kiss. His courage faltered, all he wanted was for her to be happy. He wanted her to be with someone who deserved her and as much as he wanted to be that someone, it seemed like she may have already found them. But if anyone was capable of loving two people equally and completely, it was Tav. When the two of them separated from each other, Astarion made a choice. He needed her to know how he felt, even if she rejected him. Knowing all too well that the next few moments could crush his very soul, his very being, he took a deep breath and stepped out of the trees.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #astarion x tav #halsin x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #bg3 headcanons #bg3 brainrot #bg3 angst #bg3 fluff #astarion ancunin #halsin silverbough

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terapsina · 2 years

Text

Can I take a moment to talk about how I enjoy the fact that Dongfang Qingcang was NOT ever actually evil?

He was without feelings. He was ruthless. Thirty thousand years ago he tried to attack Shuiyuntian and there would undoubtedly have been innocent victims but he did not do so because he was being a conqueror. He did so because his people were clearly quite desperate (and yes, as revenge against the Fairy Realm for their treatment of the Moon Tribe).

The story describes him as this great evil but it feels more like the victors of the war rewriting history the way they liked, rather than actual description of Dongfang Qingcang as we get to know him. Even in the beginning when his feelings are only barely beginning to wake he's not so much cruel or malicious as angry after all.

Infuriated by being tied to Xiao Lanhua. But he doesn't really do anything truly horrific to her does he? He's kinda mean when she's irritating him - especially when she keeps unknowingly describing him as a green skinned monster with bad breath (which: ICONIC); incredibly grumpy; throws around a few empty threats; gets kinda hilariously excited about the opportunity to kill people and beings FOR her.

But he doesn't kidnap her until it's to save her life. He tries talking/tricking Xiao Lanhua into fixing the previous God of War's destiny book but doesn't hold swords to the throats of the people she cares about to make her do it.

And then he multiple times tries to make Xiao Lanhua feel better whenever she's upset (very resentfully in the beginning to be fair and with the frequent addition of murder eyes as he does it but not in a... calculated way. There's no real manipulation or seduction going on, he's even right when he tells her he never lied to her when she learns exactly who he is).

I just... I like that the story ISN'T 'evil man falls in love and this fixes him'. He wasn't evil. And falling in love didn't fix him. Falling in love was more a consequence of his Heart Tree being given a spark of life, which gave him the ABILITY to fall in love, and not at all the kind of toxic power play that shows often try to make romantic and which just end up making me vaguely ill.

He's not an evil overlord out for his own selfish goals who then starts caring about one person and one person alone. He cares about his entire realm, he cares about the souls of those 100'000 trapped soldiers. He always did, even if up to that point he was loyalty without affection. He's dangerous. Both the leader of and the weapon for his people. But he grows into more than that through the story as he learns selflessness and forgiveness and compassion.

Ultimately I guess I like that though he might have changed because of Xiao Lanhua, he didn't do it for her. At least not the way this trope is usually used in many of my NOTPs.

#dongfang qingcang #love between fairy and devil #moon orchid #otp: in thousands of identical orchids i will find you in an instant #terapsina rambles #terapsina's lbfad rambles #lbfad spoilers

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aquaquadrant · 1 year

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there is a ticking clock

Warnings: Mild language, shipping

Summary: Etho walks through the forest with a clock in his pocket.

A/N: Ik I’m late to the party but I’ve been on vacation, after I came home I binged Etho’s pov and then stayed up til 2 am writing. Y’all can blame @lunarcrown and this post for this one. Hope u enjoy, pls reblog if u do! - Aqua

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

there is a ticking clock

Etho walks through the forest with a clock in his pocket.

It’s a standard clock made of gold and powered by redstone, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He’s attached an iron chain to it, because he knows its intended recipient prefers to have a clock within view at all times instead of hidden away in an inventory. It’s easier not to lose track of time that way. Because if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind.

Another clock is ticking against Etho’s wrist, beating with the same rhythm as his pulse. The numbers are green. The game’s just started and he has plenty of time. This is what he tells himself as he tugs his sleeve down to cover up the timer. He can still feel it, though. Always ticking.

‘You have twenty-four hours to live,’ Grian had said. ‘Good luck.’

Etho’s luck has held pretty well so far. He hasn’t died yet, he’s found a good team, and he’s even gathered some decent resources. Including enough resources to make a clock. Just four lumps of gold and one handful of redstone dust. Redstone is more precious to Etho than gold, maybe even more than diamonds at this moment, but he hadn’t given it a second thought as he put the clock together.

Like the other players, Etho has lived countless lives in countless worlds. But one thing that remains constant is that whatever world Bdubs is in, he needs a clock. It doesn’t matter if he’s in a world where he can’t sleep- which is a special kind of hell for Bdubs, Etho knows- he still needs to have one.

It helps him, Etho thinks. Knowing when the night will come.

Etho knows what happened on Third Life; Scar gave Bdubs a clock, and Bdubs killed Impulse for him. Etho also knows what happened on Double Life; Bdubs and Impulse were soulmates, and Impulse gave Bdubs a clock as a token of their bond. Forgiveness and a promise all wrapped up in one gesture of kindness- and perhaps, something more.

They were married, back then. Etho doesn’t know what that means, now that they’re in a new world.

(The clock’s always ticking.)

Etho’s already found Bdubs in this world, but they’ve ended up on different teams. Bdubs with Scar and Cleo, Etho with Tango, Skizz, and Impulse- ironically. That doesn’t bother Etho. He’s never had a problem with Impulse. The guy is too earnest, too kind. Even when he and Bdubs were soulmates, he’d welcomed Etho’s allegiance with open arms- and perhaps, something more.

If Etho had been brave enough to ask. If Joel hadn’t been so committed. If things hadn’t gone so badly so quickly. That’s always how it goes, isn’t it? They think they have more time before it all goes to hell, and they’re always wrong.

But this time will be different. This time, Etho knows exactly how much time he has left.

(The ticking clock won’t let him forget.)

It wasn’t that hard to track down Bdubs. Etho follows his voice like a compass, weaving through the dense oak trees, ducking under branches, hopping over small craters in the dirt. He slips a hand into his pocket as he goes, just to make sure the clock is still there. He wraps the chain around his fingers. The metal’s cool against his skin.

He doesn’t call out to Bdubs, not yet. He only catches brief glances of the other player, a flash of red and white against the green forest. Bdubs is talking to himself, oblivious that he’s being followed. Or maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s just humoring Etho until he can get the drop on him, turn the tables on him. It’s a game of cat-and-mouse they play often, a thrilling dance. Etho’s always loved the chase, and Bdubs knows it.

Bdubs disappears around the side of a peninsula with a modest hill on it. The hill where Etho is currently setting up for a mob farm. Etho holds his breath as he follows, inching across the sandbank. His ears are pricked and his eyes are up, muscles tense, waiting for a possible sneak attack- but he hears Bdubs continue on the other side.

Etho steps around the corner.

Bdubs is walking towards the small island that is the top of Etho’s underground base- his and Impulse’s and Tango’s and Skizz’s. Impulse and Tango are currently working on it, flattening out the terrain to make room for the future structure.

Etho pauses, only a few blocks from the narrow sandback that leads to the island.

He’d wanted to do this in private. Like a secret pact, just between them. Impulse and Tango are on his team, the TIES. They’re allies; he shouldn’t be keeping secrets from them. But deep down, Etho knows who he’d choose if it came down to either of them or Bdubs.

If it came down to anyone or Bdubs.

They haven’t noticed him yet. Etho takes a step back, watching the trio. Bdubs has made it across and is chatting to Impulse from behind an abruptly placed door. Tango is still clearing land away. None of them notice as Etho turns around and sprints down the coast, his footsteps light on the sand. He leaps over the river and darts back into the forest, back into the trees.

No voices call after him. He stops to catch his breath.

Later. He’ll do it later- he’s got plenty of time.

(The clock on his wrist is ticking.)

He ends up going to Bdubs’ base at the top of the mountain, because- well. They have cows. Etho’s own team has tried multiple times to acquire two cows, to no avail. If Etho takes two now, he’ll have solved his team’s problem and given Bdubs a reason to come after him. He just knows it’ll tick Bdubs off. So he’ll take two cows now while no one is home and then Bdubs will come for him later and Etho can give him the clock then.

Except Cleo’s home, actually. And she makes it quite clear that the only way Etho is taking any cows is by force. Etho doesn’t want to get into a fight with Cleo; not this soon, not over this. So he concedes defeat and returns home.

He’ll figure out another way to get Bdubs alone, to give him the clock. He’s still got time.

(Always ticking.)

When Etho reaches the end of the forest that overlooks his base, he pauses. He can hear faint voices, and peeks out from behind a tree, not yet willing to reveal himself.

Bdubs is still on the island, talking with Impulse while Tango lingers beside them. Etho can’t make out what they’re saying from this distance. He tries to listen anyways, and catches only snippets. He watches intently, noting who has a weapon equipped, just in case anything should go wrong-

Something familiar is in Impulse’s hand. Something gold.

Etho’s heart jolts. His pulse thrums in his ears, beating in sync with the ticking of the clock. He can barely hear the loud exclamation Bdubs lets out, breaking into a wide grin as his face lights up with joy.

Impulse has given Bdubs a clock.

Etho’s heart drops into his boots. His grip tightens around the clock in his pocket.

The three of them are still talking, out of earshot. Impulse’s face is happily flushed as he rubs the back of his neck. Bdubs is nodding enthusiastically, clutching the clock to his chest. Tango is watching with folded arms and an amused expression. Even without words, Etho knows what it means.

Suddenly, they’re turning towards Etho. He jolts in surprise, body tensing up as he’s split between running or freezing. He isn’t sure if they’re actually looking at him- Bdubs seems to be pointing more towards the mountain.

But he isn't going to risk it; spying from the treeline is a bad look. He emerges from the forest at a jog, casually making his way down the hillside, into the water, and is thankful that he’s wearing a mask that conceals most of his expression. They notice but don’t acknowledge him as he climbs onto the bank of the island.

“Yeah,” Bdubs is saying to Tango, “just right up the hill. Me, Cleo-

“That you?” Tango asks, glancing up at the mountain.

“-Scar. And- yeah.” Bdubs blinks, nods his head. “Uh, and, we’re gonna-”

“B- Bdubs?” Etho calls softly, stepping forward to tap him on the shoulder.

His other hand is in his pocket, holding the clock, fingers twisted in chain. It ticks against his skin, like the clock etched against his wrist. His next sentence is already on his tongue, a sheepish yet amused, ‘Guess Impulse beat me to it, huh?’ as he pulls the clock out. It’ll get some laughs, but hopefully it’ll also get his point across to Bdubs. Hopefully he can still save this.

It takes Bdubs a second to process that Etho’s talking to him. “Yeah, we’re gonna create a-” He breaks off mid-sentence, head whipping over his shoulder to gawk at Etho. “Uh- may I finish?” he asks incredulously.

The words die on Etho’s tongue. Bdubs’ tone is- well. It’s Bdubs. All loud and brash and full of unrestrained emotion, never holding anything back. But something about it is different. Something about it is wrong. There was a very real shock there, almost a panic. Like he doesn’t want Etho to be here right now-

“For goodness sake,” Bdubs continues grumbling, face red, “come in an’ interrupt me, n‘less it’s an emergency, a creeper behind me…”

He’s still holding the clock in his hand.

Etho just stands there, blinking. Impulse and Tango are snickering behind their hands, mistaking the situation as humorous. Not realizing there was anything behind Bdubs’ tone behind a teasing annoyance. Maybe Bdubs doesn’t even realize it.

(The clock is still ticking.)

Seemingly satisfied, Bdubs turns back to Impulse and Tango. He finds his train of thought, starting again. “Uh… I just-”

“Bdubs.” Etho finds his voice, stepping forward again. “I just- I just wanted to say-”

Bdubs fully whirls around this time. “Would you please?!” he shouts.

It should be funny. That’s how he means it, Etho knows. That’s what they do; they banter, they jibe. That’s just the dynamic they have. Etho picks at Bdubs, and Bdubs reacts. He pretends things annoy him more than they do. It’s funny.

Unbeknownst to Bdubs, he’s given Etho the perfect setup. All Etho has to do is pull the clock out of his pocket, hold it out, and deliver his line. But the joke will stem from Etho’s lateness, the hilarity and redundancy of him giving Bdubs a clock right after Impulse already has.

And a joke like that hits a little too close for comfort.

Etho backs off, managing a chuckle. “Sorry, sorry…”

Bdubs smoothly picks back up his conversation. “We’re makin’ an amphitheater,” he tells Tango and Impulse, “and we’re just gonna sit and watch and wait when people die, and come back. It’s fun.”

“I like it, I like it.”

“Oh, great!”

“It’s nice…”

A small pause as the conversation lulls. Finally, Bdubs turns to face Etho. He puts his hands on his hips, one eyebrow quirked expectantly. “Yes, Etho?” he asks, like an exasperated school teacher. “Goodness.”

Etho’s heart pounds. The clock ticks.

(It’s always ticking.)

Etho shoves the clock deeper into his pocket and withdraws his hand. He shrugs as he turns away.

“Nothin’,” he breathes finally. He grins, letting the curve of his mouth shape a humor into his words that he doesn’t feel, and is once again thankful he’s wearing a mask. “Nothin’.”

Scowling, Bdubs throws his hands in the air. “What?” he demands, stalking a few steps after Etho as Etho retreats further; a shallow imitation of their usual dance. “All that for nothin’?”

A comical response, as expected. Impulse and Tango are laughing, oblivious. Etho makes himself laugh, too. He can’t feel the clock in his pocket ticking anymore, but he can feel the one on his wrist, beating with his heart.

(Tick, tick, tick.)

He’s out of time.

Etho doesn’t really pay attention to the conversation after that. He wanders into the shallows around the island, collecting kelp. It’s not cows, but it’s something. And after just a couple more minutes, Bdubs starts ambling back towards the shore, not even addressing Etho in his farewell.

Etho wonders if he’s the reason Bdubs chose to leave now. He wonders if Bdubs would’ve stayed and talked more with Impulse, had Etho not arrived when he did. He wonders what would’ve happened if he hadn’t left, if he’d approached Bdubs at the start and given him the clock before Impulse.

He thought he’d had more time. That’s always how it goes, isn’t it?

(Yet the ticking hasn’t stopped.)

The next day, Etho walks through the forest with a clock in his pocket.

#limited life smp #traffic smp #life series smp #ethubs #hermitshipping #my writing

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sepublic · 1 year

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Watching and Dreaming

It’s over.

It’s really over.

…Man! We really had a timeskip and everything!

Was it Luz’s eighteenth birthday? Sorry, I was just. SO caught off-guard and disoriented and in such a daze. I remember hearing them mention how Luz was there for the 16th and 17th, which confirms what we already know about Luz’s 15th happening during the timeskip to Thanks to Them. So we have a general range for birthday and all and.

THERE’S SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!!!

I’m feeling numb y’all. Genuinely numb and in a daze. I think I need to sit down and catch my breath. Just… Fine, let me start from the beginning. That’s a good place, right?

That nightmare sequence was so HORRIFYING, the way it called back to Lilith and Gwen’s betrayals of Eda over the curse, her trauma over Dell with him losing his second eye! King seeing the skulls of his siblings and being confronted by Bill! And Luz’s dream, being told she’s Belos… Seeing everyone dead, having it reminded to her that she helped him meet the Collector!

But the way she knows her friends enough that in a final moment of crisis… She knows not to trust this! Reminds herself they’d never do that! And just shrugs it off, the way it all comes around to her original light spell! And it’s what saves and awakens everyone from this dream, because it’s called Watching and Dreaming, beat the fantasies of Adegast like before!

And that reunion! They’re so glad to see each other… Eda’s excitement to see Stringbean, the way it loops back to that original trio! And the Collector, aww the Collector… The way they’re so mad but also still reasonable, they’re not THAT mean just not aware of boundaries.

And how Belos manipulates them and GAUGH the age-old theory of the Titan being possessed and halfway resurrected by Belos, covered in his goopy mass… It came true!!!

But first, I loved how everyone befriended the Collector. How even at their most malicious, they weren’t THAT malicious. And the way King counted on Luz to reach out to them, as she always has! The way they recounted Luz’s own journey to one of her narrative parallels!

Raine and Belos fighting each other REAL… They’ve dedicated themselves so much to stopping him, and now they face off! And how CLOSE they were too… Titan I love Raine.

Belos’ giant mock-Titan design was PHENOMENAL, he really went Bionicle this finale and I love it! And good Titan the way the Collector tried to apply the kindness and forgiveness to Belos, because they’re just so naïve! They’re still learning Luz’s compassion and they think it’ll work on this man they’ve been stuck with for centuries, because they can see he’s lonely too!

But as tragic as it is, you can only get help if you accept it. You need to want to change. And he kept refusing, time and time again.

Luz’s death, AUGH… I was panicking because they wouldn’t ACTUALLY, but the way the Collector was breaking up! In disbelief! They don’t understand death and they’re just. They really are a metaphor, or just a straight up example, of kids finding things out! They were lied to by the Archivists, who presumably got killed in the mutual war between Collectors and Titans.

Titan, you’re a monster Belos. You really killed Luz. But Luz, she GAVE her life for this kid she just met, who antagonized her for so long! Because she sees herself in him, she’s just bristling with so much COMPASSION, it’s overflowing!

And finally meeting King’s dad, and Belos killing what’s left of him. That hurts so much, but it was wonderful seeing the full shot of his skeleton. And the Hooty parasite in his eye… Well. I guess that just confirms that Hooty is one of those eye-worms that survived after all these millennia! Damn.

Harpy Luz!!! But also Titan Luz!!! And she got big hair!!! Just like she always wanted, and Stringbean came back for her! I loved seeing King and Eda go FERAL over Luz, I love that trope to death. But the way Camila shed a tear like she could tell she lost the last member of her family, after losing Manny…

But nope! Luz’s friends have faith in her, and they manage to save everyone! With the Collector, my boy… Ngl I thought they’d go with the reveal that Belos’ growth sapped their magic and left them powerless, but oh well!

And the callback! The callback to magic coming from the heart, Luz, Eda, and King diving through! Luz knowing what she wants, getting to wield bile magic for just a brief time! And the animation the ANIMATION…

Raine was blind as a bat and just whistling lmao! But seriously it’s sad when you consider they were possibly trying to access any bard magic, but were too exhausted. And getting to reunite with Eda after all this time… Those tear scars are metal ngl. We got Possessed Raine scars after all, folks!

And the way they all came together to finally PRY Belos from the heart, even as they made a final callback to the beginning scene! Just as Eda said, if Luz works, she can make her fantasies happen, bring them to life, and she DID! AND BELOS ATE IT!!!

Him trying to appeal to her one last time. Blaming the magic, accusing Eda of having been cursed by dark magic, once again relying on the curse as an excuse. But the WAY the show finished him off… Boiled, BURNED to death in the rain, after talking about how he missed the cool rain of the human realm. The ultimate rejection of this world towards him, that rain that acts as a signifier for the different worlds.

Luz just watched Philip burn to death. That shit was ICE COLD, in spite of rain itself! Just letting him beg for his life, feebly trying to appeal to ‘peace’, but Luz was allowed to be a bit feral and get some revenge herself. And of course, Eda, King, and Raine got some too! The leaf umbrella was hilarious and anyhow I think there’s something poetic about Raine being named after the thing that helped kill Belos in the end. So long, you messed up bastard! Killed by the witches, by the world you despised! I love the way his patience wears away to reveal his hatred and rage and truth, and he dies by the people he loathed.

Seriously, that underwater coral look to everything was so cool but so fitting, given the Titan was submerged in water and everything… Luz bringing back the red leaves that were another thing to distinguish from the green grass of the isles, against the green of Belos!

The callback to Really Small Problems with the BREAD PUN, THAT KILLED ME!!! And Luz regretting, trying to think of what to say, realizing when it was seemingly too late, to THANK them like the first episode of S3’s title! And now…

Now it’s over. The timeskip and reparations. I feel sorry for everyone who lived in Palm Stings or on the left arm in general, Belos still got to wreak havoc and devastation one last time… But everyone’s freed, STEVE AND LILITH’S FRIENDSHIP I LIVE FOR IT SO MUCH!!!

Everyone reuniting at the Owl House, Raine and Eda those hags having some rest in the nest… The Collector bringing back Hooty! Lilith and Camila and Amity! Gilbert and Harvey kiss, HUNTER WITH DARIUS AND EBERWOLF!!! Amity and Alador… And Odalia, just straight up ignored! Would’ve loved to see her and Kikimora one last time, it’s a shame we didn’t get to see Kiki again. Maybe I missed her later on, but lol what if we just took the opportunity to say Boscha and the others killed her off-screen what then.

Luz losing the last of the Titan, the original glyph that started it all… The pain!!! But the way she makes a NEW LANGUAGE WITH KING!!! And still has Stringbean, so she still has another way of doing magic! So it’s not the end, just a new beginning all over again!

AUGH WHY DID THEY MAKE THE COLLECTOR LEAVE! When King said he showed up one last time I wanted to SEE them again, sure they definitely wouldn’t have aged given it was only a few years and they didn’t grow after millions but whatever.

Timeskip… GOD THE WAY IT THREW US FOR A LOOP! A three-year timeskip, three years of the show. The photos with an older Vee, that barista lady with Hooty, Eda introducing Camila to Apple Blood! AND OLDER VEE AND LUZ!!!

I love the way the show psyched us out, making us think Luz was just gonna settle for human college lmao. And the way she said ‘After all this time’ like she was gone for years, and I was thinking! Please tell me it’s a joke! AND IT WAS! AS I HOPED, Camila reminds Luz it’s only been a WEEK!

And seeing everyone again. The Bat Queen start a new forest of Palismen with Gwen and Dell, Hunter learning from his lowkey descendants? THE TRIBUTE TO FLAPJACK I’M CRYING, WILLOW!!! DAMMIT WE SHOULD’VE GOTTEN A HUNTLOW KISS IT’S BEEN YEARS IN-UNIVERSE!!!

Checking up on everyone, from Morton to the Selkidomus, Wrath and Braxas, Tibbles and the Slitherbeast with its baby! HARPY LILITH! I saw Boscha… Hexside’s faculty, BARCUS AS A TEACHER! Alador figuring out how to remove the sigils, Darius’ joy and becoming tsundere! Emira’s short hair, I was worried about Edric but then we saw him as a teacher, bless! ALONGSIDE GUS, who is ROCKING IT with those golden dreads and being an expert on humans!

The way the symbol of Belos’ tyranny was replaced with a forest of wild magic, unbridled, for people to learn in. THAT being the college. Raine there, everyone there. And then they all come together one last time to say goodbye, acknowledging how we missed out on the Quincenera… THE MESSED UP CAKES! Steve just letting the spiders crawl as Luz did!

And the final light show by the Collector. And that META joke… Saying “They’re about to leave” which could refer to our favorite star child, but it also refers to the audience! One final BBBYYYEEEEE is perfect. That running gag. Both by the crew in real life and in the show. This show gets so wonderfully meta and I ADORE it…!

(Lmao that last look at the Coven Heads, VITIMIR GETTING AN EXTRA BIT!!! Does the crew love him too, is it a bone thrown to his fans! HELL YEAH!!! Still salty over his hat lmao.)

…It’s over. It’s really over. After all this time, this is the last I’ll ever write something like this, about a new episode. Unless we get that Raeda prequel which the finale even jokes about, but for now. Thank you so much everyone. For listening, for reading to all of these posts I’ve made per episode since Season 1B began. With how much I dump here, I’m amazed anyone’s read it, but…

Thanks so much you guys. It means everything. I dunno how to end this off, I feel like Luz… Oh wait! I know exactly how! Just as my beloved characters did, just as @danaterrace herself...

BBBBBBYYYYYYEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!

#the owl house #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #king clawthorne #the owl house hooty #lilith clawthorne #the owl house collector #emperor belos #philip wittebane #camila noceda #the owl house hunter #willow park #gus porter #augustus porter #amity blight

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