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i9messi · 6 months

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How you get the girl — Pablo Gavi

Pablo comes to your house in the middle of the storm to tell you he wants you back and he still loves you.

Word count — 1,8k

a/n: what can I say, taylor inspires me a lot. (ANGSTY but with a happy ending!)

gavi's masterlist

Ever since you and Pablo broke up six months ago, every time he told someone you weren’t together anymore, people asked him the same question. «Why did he let you go?» and the truth was that he couldn't understand how he had been stupid enough to let you go. You were the girl he had fallen in love with and yet, he had been stupid enough to lose you.

He thought a lot about you, every night he went to bed wanting to text you and every morning he woke up thinking it was a good option to call you. He had never done it before, Gavi had never dared to approach you, fearing that you wouldn't want him anymore.

"Pablo, what are you doing here? It’s raining. Are you insane?"

He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. You were so pretty, you’ve always been pretty to his eyes.

"I needed to talk to you."

"Couldn’t you wait until the rain stopped? Oh, Pablo, you’re going to get sick. Come, come in."

Gavi needed to talk to you and he knew that outside, with the rain falling so hard, it was impossible. He preferred the privacy of your home so you both could have a real conversation. He was led by you to the living room and you picked up some towels.

"Strip. You’re gonna catch a cold."

"What?"

"I will bring you clothes. I still have some of your things in my room."

There were countless times your ex-boyfriend had been to your house. You remembered the nights you would just hug, talking about everything that was going through your heads. Gavi was a person who didn’t get along with the pressure people put on him, he didn’t react well when things went wrong on the pitch. He would get stressed and the pressure wouldn’t help. He just loved coming to your house and disconnecting from the real world, he loved to hear you talk because your voice calmed him like nothing else.

When you came back, Pablo was still standing there, all wet and with the towels in his hands. His body was shaking from the cold, even though the heat was on. You passed him the clothes you had on him, a pair of pants and a t-shirt. They both still smelled like him.

"Do you want me to start you a shower or a bath?"

"No, it’s fine. Really."

"Okay, then I’ll go make something hot to drink."

You went to the kitchen without waiting for his answer, simply wanting to leave there for a moment. You weren’t ready to see Pablo after months of missing him like never before. It was painful to have him so close and at the same time so far away. He had hurt you, grabbed your heart and broken it into thousands of pieces, he never dared to apologize. Gavi never called you, he never texted you. He had moved on with his life, while you kept the memories of the relationship.

What was he doing there? The question didn't leave you alone. Outside the weather was the worst, it rained like never before, it was actually a thunderstorm, but Gavi had appeared to knock on your door.

Taking a breath, you finished preparing the hot drink and went to the living room, where you met your ex-boyfriend. Pablo was now dressed in dry clothes, although his hair was still soaked.

"I made you a mug of tea."

"I still love you."

The statement took you by surprise. Your shaking hands left tea on the table, while you stood there. The brunette kept looking at you. He spoke again, just because he thought you didn't hear him.

"I still love you."

"Pablo, don’t do this to me."

"What? Tell you how I feel? I never stopped loving you at all."

You shook your head. You were shocked by what he was telling you, you couldn’t just accept it like everything was fine. It wasn't. He had broken your heart with his hands.

"Did you try to call me at all, Pablo?"

"I was never brave enough to do it.”

"You’re a coward, that’s what you are. You broke my heart and never dared to apologize, or at least say you screwed things up. You come six months later to tell me you still love me? Is everything a joke to you?"

Gavi was embarrassed, he knew it probably wasn’t the best choice of words, but he really wanted to let you know how he felt. After everything that happened in the past, he believed you still would listen to him.

“I know It’s been a long six months and I was afraid of telling what I want— I practically lost my mind since I lost you, all because I left you without giving you any explanation. I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have left the one girl I’ve loved and will love all my life. I just know that I’ve ever missed anyone or anything as much as I missed you. I didn’t know until now that missing someone like that was possible."

"Pablo, it’s too late now."

You were crying, tears poured down your eyes and all your emotions struggled to find a place in your chest. Loving a person and at the same time making such a difficult decision was cruel.

“It's okay, but I'm not okay with the fact I lost you because I was stupid enough to not fight for you. I will accept that you no longer love me and I have ruined everything. But I couldn’t take it anymore, I needed to come here and tell you how I feel about you.”

You kept quiet for what seemed like an eternity, until you breathed and found his gaze once again.

"I still love you, Pablo. But you broke my heart and I can’t just— I can’t accept you breaking it again. I can’t tolerate someone who I love breaking my heart not just once, but twice."

"I will not. I will not break your heart again, I will pick up every piece I have broken."

You looked at him. He seemed honest.

"No, Pablo. I can’t do this anymore."

"I will wait as long as you need."

"For what? Do you think I’ll change my mind?"

Pablo didn’t answer, so you spoke again.

"I will bring you the things that belong to you. It’s over, for good."

You went to your room, where you still kept a box of all his belongings. Photos, his clothes and gifts that he had given you and certain things that you had borrowed, but had never given them back before. Having all those things in your room made you remember him and spending those months with his memory had been painful.

You came back with the box in your hands and leaned it on the table. Letting go of everything was a real goodbye, saying goodbye to the love you had for him. You didn’t really feel sure about anything you were doing, you still wanted him to fight. That he would tell you that he needed you, that he would fight to be by your side.

“Everything is here.”

"Okay, so I guess this is a goodbye."

Wasn’t he going to fight a little more?

Your ex-boyfriend got up from the couch and took the box, you walked him to the door quietly, but when he opened it, both saw that outside it rained torrentially. The weather had not improved and seemed to only get worse every minute. He stepped forward, until you stopped him, holding his arm.

"Pablo, don’t go."

He turned, his brown eyes holding your gaze. The same eyes that had looked at you at your best and worst moments. The ones that belonged to the person you loved the most.

"Wait until the rain stops."

"Okay."

You both returned to the living room, where you sat on the couch. Pablo left the box on the table and his hands approached the box to pull out a picture of you two. You saw him smile. It was a picture of when the team had won La Liga, Pablo was very happy that day. You had been there with his family to support him and when you saw your boyfriend, you couldn’t help running and hugging him. His family had captured the moment, where you were both on the floor, smiling like two idiots.

He spoke, "I miss this."

"Me too."

"Look at this." He smiled, pointed out another picture. It was a Polaroid.

You were both sitting on the couch, smiling for the camera. It seemed like forever ago, but it had only been a few months.

"Why did you never call? If you had called me..."

Your voice caught him by surprise, Gavi left the picture in the box. You could see that his hands were shaking a little and now it wasn’t because of the cold or the rain.

"Would you have listened to me? Would you have accepted that I loved you and ruined it because I didn’t know what I wanted?"

"Yes."

"Is it too late now? Is it too late to tell you that I love you and that I want you back?"

"It’s not too late, Pablo."

His eyes shone with longing and hope. It was the first time in that afternoon that you gave him signs of hope. That maybe, just maybe, you could give him a second chance.

You grabbed another one of the Polaroids and looked at it. Pablo and you were on the beach, the two of you smiling as you kissed each other. His hands held you by the waist, while you held him by the shoulders, giving him a hug.

You missed him, you loved him, and you needed to have him by your side. Being so close to him and remembering everything that had once been put things in perspective.

"Please let me love you right this time, let me love you as you deserve to be loved from the start."

"Won’t you break my heart?"

"I swear to you that I won't, I will love you this time. I will prove to you that it is worth giving me a second chance. I will not let you down."

You cried, Pablo was seconds away from doing it too. You approached him and allowed him to give you a hug and hold you in his arms. Both of you remained silent for a long time.

"I don’t deserve you, mi amor." he said.

"I am the only one who can decide if someone deserves me, and I can say that you are that someone who does."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Pablo."

Pablo would work hard every day to make things right and let you know how much he loved you.

#pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi blurb #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi #barcelona fc #football players

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kazumist · 3 months

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EPISODE 22 ✿ IT CAN'T HAPPEN

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 526.

“stop following me.”

“(name), if you could please just let me explain," he reaches out to you, trailing behind you hastily.

you stopped in your tracks and faced him, fighting and praying for your voice not to crack. “explain what? explain that you’re leaving the country in, like, what? three weeks?”

“i was going to tell you," he says, attempting to gently grab your arm but you pull yourself back out of his reach. “and when would that be? when you’re about to board that goddamn plane? when you’re about to take your first step into another country? when, diluc?” this is precisely why you didn’t want to fall in love. the attachment that comes with it is enough to make you go insane.

“i—”

he was speechless. for once in his life, diluc was speechless. he always knew what to say; there was never a moment where he would be found hesitating in his words. but for some reason, ever since he met you, this is the first time he actually didn’t know what to say. he knew that if he said another word, it would hurt you—the both of you—more.

“thought so.” your words were cold enough to feel like bullets on his skin.

he calls out your name, unsure if he’s making the right decision right now. but you ignored him, taking this as your chance to speak up.

“you know? i knew it was a bad decision. to let myself fall for you, that is. i should’ve kept my balance before succumbing to whatever the hell this pit is, because fucking hell, diluc ragnvindr—i love you. there, i said it. i love you, diluc ragnvindr. even when i don’t want to, i do.”

silence.

say something—do something, anything, diluc. you thought.

he swallowed. “i can’t, (name). we both have bright futures ahead of us and i’m not sure if i’m ready to juggle a relationship with that. you deserve someone who’s willing to take risks for you, and i’m just not that person. i’m a coward. i’m no risk taker. i’m too scared to even take that leap of faith—even if it means that i get to be with you.”

another moment of silence.

diluc continues, moving closer. his steps were cautious, trying to read if you’d let him (which you did). he grabs your arms on both sides at first, then a hand travels to your face, caressing your cheek ever so gently. “i can still help you and continue being your tutor until the semester ends, but this… us…” a deep breath.

“it can’t happen, (name).”

tears started to sting your eyes when you pulled away from him.

“you know what? let's just end it. finals are over, the semester is ending and you'll be graduating soon. thank you for your help, diluc. i really couldn’t have done this without you.”

you walked past him, not even sparing him another glance back. diluc wants to say something—to do something—but no words come out of his mouth and his feet are glued hard to the ground.

so he just watches you leave, lowering his head down after you leave his sight.

extra notes.

i wrote this chapter when i was still working on ep 9. and this is literally ep 22. i was wayyyyy too excited LOL

anyways this is actually one of my favorite parts. hope you guys liked it as well, happy valentine's <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

#( smau — you + me = love ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc #x reader #genshin smau

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benkeibear · 4 months

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⋆꙳✧༄ From Eden

꒰ ͜͡➸ In which Gojo finds his way back to you after being sealed away for 3 years - showing you just how much he missed you and not letting you leave the bed any time soon.

❖ Character: Gojo

❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 2648

❖ WARNINGS: sub.reader, oral (reader receiving), fingering, penetrative intercourse, creampie, mentions of a blowjob, reader getting called "baby" and "buttercup"

❖ A/n: repost | I'm aware he was only sealed for 3 days but let me be dramatic

It's been three years since the love of your life left your shared house. 1184 days since you last felt his lips on yours. 28.416 hours since you last felt his embrace. You were over it, you swore it up and down that you were over the man who so suddenly left - in fact you hated him for leaving without a single word, he didn't even have the guts to break up. All this time you thought he was just too much of a coward to break things off, to pick his things up at your place or even have a friend do it. But that's when you realized it, it's Satoru Gojo, he has a flair to the dramatic.

What you didn't expect one Friday night while you were having dinner was that the very man you tried so hard to forget was standing in your living room like nothing ever happened - or so you thought. He walked into your house unannounced like he owns the place, which he did three years ago but not anymore. Satoru wore a cocky smile although his eyes showed sadness "hey there, missed me?" He asked and his grin grew in size.

Your fork dropped onto the plate in front of you, the sound far too loud for the otherwise dead silent room as you slowly rose from your seat to walk over to the white haired man, shoving him lightly just to make sure you're not just imagining things - you dreamed of this scenario far too many times already. Instead of the empty feeling of air hitting your palm it was the soft fabric of his favorite sweater and the muscles beneath you could feel, tears immediately shooting into your eyes. "Satoru?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper and if you looked closely, that cocky grin of his fell for just a fraction of a second before he wrapped his strong arms around your trembling figure. "Now now, am I so ugly you need to cry?" He joked but his voice sounded strained, as if he forced himself to lighten up the situation

Before you knew it, you squirmed out of his embrace and shoved him away from you, much stronger than the push you gave him before and your sadness got replaced with confusion and this rage that built over those years. Three years he was gone, disappearing into thin air only to show up like nothing ever happened. "How dare you walk into my house like this?" You hissed, the fury in your eyes making him back off. "Do you even know how worried I was at first? When no one was able to tell me where you went?" You continued, backing him further into the wall with this blinding rage slowly taking over you. "But I don't need you Satoru Gojo. These three years showed me just how much better off I am without you" you spat, voice slowly trembling and while you wished this was the case, the truth was different. You still worried, day by day it was slowly driving you insane - missing the man that's now in front of you but you didn't want him to think that he can play with you like this.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer was now backed against a wall, utterly helpless as you cursed him out, screamed at him but when the tears started to run down your cheeks like little rivers and your fists, weakly balled into fists, came crashing down against his chest in a barely there punch he didn't stop you. He never meant to get sealed away, to disappear out of your life without a single word and everything you just said might have been unfair but he let you - he understood. He was cursing, screaming, crying and punching the walls all these past 1182 days of his existence, yearning to come home to you and your loving embrace, your arms - his home.

Another sob wrecked through your body and you fisted up the material of his sweater, your forehead leaning against his chest in desperation, anger, sadness and Gojo understood you all too well, yet he wanted to be your rock, your guiding light, the love of your life - your home.

With one gentle move he wrapped his arms around you almost too tight, fearing you might disappear and he wakes up all alone again. One of his hands rested at the back of your head as he brought his lips to your forehead, a wordless exchange between the two and you began to understand that these past 28,416 hours were out of his hands, that he didn't want to leave, that it was a situation out of his hands.

None of you dared to move for what felt like an eternity, eyes taking in the other person before hungry lips devoured yours. There was nothing gentle about his kiss, it screamed desperation, it screamed possessiveness and love as he pulled you closer which seemed sheer impossible, body pressed against body. His hands were fisting at the thin material of your shirt the same time yours were ripping at his favorite sweater, tongues eagerly caressing each other. "Missed you... so much" he whispered in a hushed tone as his kisses trailed down to your neck and leaving marks behind on their path.

The thought of you having moved on and possibly searching for comfort in another man's bed drove him crazy that moment. All the times he cried out your name in a strangled moan, fisting his cock to the memory of you played in his head and to think you were crying out another man's name in that time?

When your hands gently cupped his cheeks he seemed to calm down ever so slightly and you saw this possessiveness behind his eyes. "No one Satoru... I didn't see anyone else" you whispered with a little giggle, knowing exactly what was going on behind that thick skull of his.

You knew he couldn't tell you what happened in the past three years, not ready yet and you didn't push it, not yet at least. The time wasn't right, just grateful that the man you loved so dearly was finally back in your arms, you pressed your lips back to his, letting him know that he doesn't need to ask for forgiveness. Your heart never stopped loving Satoru Gojo and no matter how long he disappeared, this would never change - especially not if it's out of his hands.

The kiss grew needier with each passing second, the buttons of your blouse flying through the room from how he ripped it open. "Don't care... 'm gonna buy a new one" he mumbled against your skin, worshiping your collarbones and chest with his soft lips. He missed you so much all these years, wishing every single day to come back home to you, into your loving arms and now that he finally got you again, he couldn't hold himself back any longer, your legs easily wrapped around his waist as he lifted you up - ever as strong. Calloused hands were holding your thighs tightly while he walked to the bedroom with you, smirking to himself when nothing changed ever since he left the house that cursed morning.

You were placed onto the bed with utmost care, his tall frame hovering above you, legs still wrapped around his thin waist and he never once broke the kiss. The kiss was needy, the desperation and pent up emotions of three long years transferred onto your lips. His strong hands were roaming over your torso, still having memorized each and every curve on your body as if not a single day had passed since he last touched you like this - yet you could feel a slight tremble of his hands, excited to have his beautiful lover underneath him again, finally.

The moment he kissed down your throat, lips latching onto your pulse your hands were flying into his hair, raking over his scalp and gently pulling on these familiar white locks. "Careful now, baby” he groans against your neck, dangerously close to your ear so you could feel his hot breath which let you shudder. A small chuckle escaped him at your reaction "missed me that much, hm?" He teased and gently nibbled on your neck, leaving little love bites behind before descending towards your chest with open mouthed kisses that left your skin burning in their path. "Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself... whimpering my name?" He asks amused, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eyes before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl over it. "Your little fingers trying to fuck you the way only I can..." he continued, pinching the other nipple as his mouth lowered onto you once more. "Stuffing your dripping cunt with one of your cute toys... but nothing could ever compare, hm?" He purred and moved onto your other nipple, gently sucking on it as well.

His words left you utterly speechless, knowing that what he's saying is the truth - nothing pleased you remotely as good as he could in all these 1184 days of his absence, no matter how hard you tried. Without realizing it you were nodding to his teasing questions and feeding his ego as a grin spread across his pretty lips, teeth scraping over your nipples, leaving you whimpering beneath him. Oh and how much he missed you - not wanting to let you know that he imagined your tight cunt wrapped around him when it was just his fist. That no matter how much he spat on his cock, nothing would ever compare to the sloppy head you used to give him oh so often. Still, nothing of this mattered now that he finally has you back - his own needs forgotten as all he wanted to do was explore your body anew, please you until you're crying and then fucking you until all you remembered was his name.

His kisses traveled down your stomach until they reached your hip bones and the hem of your pants "so what do you say, buttercup... should I give you what you were missing all these years?" He asked with this stupid grin of his, fingers dancing along your skin just above your pants to tease you further. "Stop teasing 'Toru" You whisper breathless, unable to take much more of his antics at this moment but he only laughed while undressing your lower half, cursing under his breath when he saw your glistening cunt. In a matter of seconds he was kneeling on the floor, your body resting at the edge of the bed and your knees pushed up to your chest so you were presenting your pretty pussy to him. "Fuck- missed you so much" he cursed out, two long fingers spreading your folds open to see your slick glistening in the dim light of the bedroom.

Unable to hold himself back much longer he groaned, letting his tongue glide through your folds to gather some of your slick and the second he got to taste you, his eyes were rolling back into his skull as a moan left his throat. The vibration of his moan traveled through your core. Gently you spread your legs to watch him lap on your cunt like a man starved - which he was in a way. He craved you every single day these past three years, unable to tear himself away from you for even a second now. In a matter of minutes you were reduced to a moaning mess, his tongue taking you to heaven.

When he felt your needy entrance clench around nothing he chuckled against your puffy clit, two of his long fingers finding their way inside you to massage your velvet walls. The moment he finally started tapping them against your sweet spot it was over, a mind numbing orgasm rippling through your body and making your skin feel ablaze from the intensity. Only when you slowly calmed down he pulled away and licked his fingers clean as if he just ate the most delicious meal in his lifetime. "Think you can handle my cock already?" He asks breathless, his chin and lips still shining with your juices as he started to undress, revealing his muscles to your hungry gaze. Helplessly you nod, going further up on the bed but staying in the same position, knees folded to your chest as you watched him with a watering mouth, drooling when you finally got to set your eyes onto his thick length again.

Gojo was lazily pumping his length while he watched you laying on the bed, his eyes hungry and making you feel like prey under their piercing gaze before stalking closer. His tip was resting right at your entrance as he took a moment to drink in the sight beneath him, his lover laying there, panting softly and only waiting for him to do something - anything.

Without further warning he pushed his hips forward, slowly pushing himself in and savoring the feeling of his cock rubbing against your plush walls, feeling every ridge of your tight core. When he finally bottomed out his breath was shaky, having a hard time not to cum right on the spot and he felt so pathetic. This was far from his first time but you made him feel like a dumb boy again, heart racing and mind running. "Satoru... you can move" you coo out, reaching up to cup one of his cheeks gently to snap him out of whatever thought that had captured him.

A small smirk came back to his lips "oh? You want me to move?" He asked teasing and pulled out almost all the way just to pound back into you which made you cry out his name with a broken moan. "That's right... let everyone hear who's making you feel good" he said amused, repeating his movements a few times before he set a pace that still knocked the air out of your lungs with each thrust.

Gojo was never silent but this time he just couldn't keep it together at all, having missed the feeling of your heat wrapped around him so tightly he was a moaning mess, low grunts mixed with soft moans each time he sunk himself into you. Your bedroom filled with the most obscene noises, moaning, sweet nothings whispered along with the squelching sound of your cunt each time his hips rutted into yours.

The continuous onslaught of his thrusts build up your second orgasm fast, aided by the thumb he used to rub small circles onto your sensitive clit it didn't take long for you to scream his name like a lewd prayer, a wave of pleasure rushing through your body. Gojo’s hips started to stutter when your walls wrapped around him like a vice, practically milking him from all he had to give as he released his hot cum inside of you, hips slowly stilling and your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him in place just a little longer, at least until you can catch your breath. "I'm not going anywhere, baby. And we're far from done" he reassured you with a breathless chuckle, highlighting his words with a few shallow thrusts to let you feel that he's still hard as a rock inside of you which made you giggle. "Looks like someone missed me" you hummed teasingly which brought a huge grin to his face "not just for this... hope you know that" he mumbled, sounding more serious all of the sudden and you pulled him closer to kiss him gently "I know, Satoru... I know" you whisper between kisses. His hips were slowly rutting into you again, this time the desperation and hunger gone, replaced by gentleness and pure love.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @ghostqueue

#jjk x Reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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pancake-breakfast · 11 months

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So after reading this thread by @mydetheturk and @shastafirecracker, I got to thinking about Vash as a gun in Trigun Stampede. (I would have responded in thread, but the thread is Trigun Book Club and I'm about to get into spoilers for Stampede here. Which reminds me....)

Spoilers for Trigun Stampede Ahead

The series is called Trigun because Vash has three guns: 1) the one he carries, 2) the one in his prosthetic left arm, and 3) his angel arm. The thread linked above gets into how, throughout Trigun (every iteration, TBH), Vash doesn't simply wield weapons, but because of his angel arm he very literally is a weapon, and that's an identity he resists as much as he can. He doesn't want to be used for violence. He just wants to help people, but his very nature makes pursuing that path a rather difficult one.

In particular, once he's aware of its presence, Vash wants to take every precaution he can to stop from releasing the power that channels through his angel arm, which is understandable since it can literally level cities. That destructive power the antithesis of what Vash wants to be, but it's also an irremovable part of himself... and it's something that Knives covets enough to severely violate Vash in attempt to gain control of it. The power itself might be Vash's, but it's Knives who activates it, forces it into being, and thus compels Vash to both channel it into his angel arm and to pull the trigger on that insanely powerful gun.

However, in Stampede, it's not just the weight of the angel arm that Knives forces on Vash. Knives is literally responsible for Vash having the other two guns, as well.

These can both be traced to episode 9. First, Knives thrusts the handgun into Vash's arms, calling it, "An evil weapon of the Sinners, taking lives easily from afar with the twitch of a finger...."

Nominally, he's doing this to protect Vash. Vash won't raise his hand to take down the humans that literally just overclocked their sisters to death, to protect them or to protect himself, so Knives provides him with a weapon he labels a coward's tool for evil (gun #1). In doing that, he very much implies his brother is both a coward and someone who needs to embrace doing evil in order to survive.

It's only a few minutes later that Knives makes way for the second gun.

Knives slices off Vash's arm to protect him from the power Vash (accidentally) summoned to try to protect Luida from Knives, thus making way for Vash's prosthetic arm (gun #2).

Thus, every shot fired by Vash from either the handgun or the prosthetic is the result of Knives' actions, even when Knives isn't actively sending people to harass Vash.

"But wait," you hypothetically say. "In TriStamp, Vash's prosthetic arm has a grappling gun, not a gun that fires bullets."

You're right.

Interesting that the one gun Vash has the option to choose for himself in Stampede isn't designed for killing. Instead, Vash uses it to try and save himself, and to save Meryl.

(Though all things considered, I wouldn't be surprised if whatever upgrade he has in Season 2 is more in line with what fans of previous Trigun series are used to in his prosthetic arm.)

There's one other thing I'll note before wrapping this up. Going back to Episode 9 of Stampede... Vash is actually very quick to try and use that handgun Knives gives him. But he doesn't use it to defend himself from humans (or anyone else, really) the way Knives wants him to. Instead, he grits his teeth, does his best to steady an unsteady hand, and uses it to try and protect one of the only two humans left standing around them, Luida, from Knives.

#he is constantly CONSTANTLY resisting becoming just a tool for violence #especially a tool for violence against humanity #even when he has every reason to just give up and watch them burn #vash the stampede #millions knives #trigun stampede #anime analysis #pancake analysis

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blueskittlesart · 6 months

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what do you think his thoughts were at that moment?

this is an insane question and i am going rabid trying to answer it. for context this is about my. link dead on the fucking floor compilation. i. e. "what do you think went through link's mind as he all but DIED in precalamity botw."

i've thought about this before because. well obviously i have. look at how many times i've drawn it. i think context matters more than anything when examining that moment, because it's essentially the culmination of link's entire life up to that point in the worst way possible. you have a kid who has been raised to either win or die. those are his only two options. he's known this for basically as long as he can remember. either he defeats the calamity like he's supposed to and lives the rest of his life as an untouchable gold standard of soldier, as proof that all that pressure and pain he suffered worked, or he dies and dooms everyone he has ever loved to suffer horribly for the rest of their likely very short lives. And i do think he thought about this extensively, because how could you NOT, and i think that he probably believed that death was the most likely outcome. He was raised by a soldier, around soldiers, to be a soldier. soldiers are practical. soldiers strategize for the most likely scenario. they're not pessimistic, but they know how to look at a situation objectively and make a judgement call. Looking at link's situation objectively, it would have been obvious that he couldn't win. he was one kid, a 16-year-old boy, with maybe some above-average swordsmanship skills, but too many variables were missing. he couldn't hear the sword's voice. zelda's power wouldn't manifest. Hylia, who should have been there guiding them through this prophecy that SHE had supposedly inflicted on them, was completely silent. the divine beasts may have given him some hope, initially, but it was clear below the optimistic facade that hyrule was toying with very dangerous forces they didn't truly understand. I think he very likely went into that confrontation with the calamity anticipating death.

what's most interesting to me about the scene of link's death isn't that he fell, but WHERE he fell. because he didn't die in the sanctum, at the scene of the calamity's birth, as one might have expected. he died in an empty field along the road to a fortress that might have been able to protect him. Link, the bearer of the triforce of courage, the boy raised to die a martyr at the hands of the calamity, who had all but accepted his fate before the monster even showed its face, chose to run for safety, what some might call the coward's approach, instead of dying where he stood at ganon's hand. and it seems almost out of character at first, when you think about the person he was when he first met zelda, the person who would do anything in his power to show no weakness, to take the pain and the stress without flinching or faltering. the boy who so completely embodied that idea of "courage." but i think that zelda was the piece that changed him. If it had just been him at that final confrontation, maybe he wouldn't have run. maybe he would have been content to take his final stand and accept the death he'd been promised. but zelda insisted on being there, too. "there must be something i can do to help." and while link was a soldier, more than willing to engage in self-sacrifice, he was also a knight, sworn to protect this girl, and so he couldn't in good conscience sacrifice HER, too. so he ran. he tried to live, at a moment when he should have expected to die. and i think that was infinitely more courageous of him. to go against everything you have ever known and expected is infinitely scarier than accepting the outcome you've always anticipated. Running for his life (and for zelda's) was running into the unknown. escaping death in that way was defying everything he'd built himself up to be, everything everyone expected of him. Who is link if not the hero who faced the calamity with courage? what would he have to be if he could not be what was expected of him? in that moment, he made the choice to step into the unprophesized timeline, into a world where his actions were no longer defined by some great all-seeing power. and that was the most courageous move he could have made in that moment. he must have been terrified.

so what was going through his mind as he made his last stand? Honestly, i think the only thing on his mind was zelda. I don't think he cared about himself, his physical condition, any of it. I think he made the choice to run because of zelda and so he made the choice to take his final stand where he did because of her, too. just before zelda's power manifests, we see him try to continue fighting even inches from death, so gravely injured that he's unsteady on his feet, using his sword to keep himself standing. i think he must have known that he was in no condition to fight anymore, but he expected death to come for him at one point or another. what mattered was that she might live as long as he kept going. that's why he ran in the first place. not for himself, but because zelda was there and zelda didn't deserve to die like this. Even once zelda's power manifests, link only gives up and allows himself to fall once a beat or two has past--once he's sure that there really is no more danger. that she'll be okay, that she can make it past the fort and into relative safety even if he lets go here. He collapses then, and only then, after running miles through fields and woods, already gravely wounded, because in that moment he sees that the danger has past. a soldier's work is only done when there is nothing left to fight. a knight's work is only done when his princess is truly safe.

maybe he was relieved that he'd managed to hold on as long as he had. that he'd been able to find her some form of safety, in one way or another. maybe he worried about what manner of things would come for her once he was gone. maybe he wondered why she wouldn't just leave him and run for the fort. i'm sure there was a flash of regret in the back of his mind, for the family and friends he'd leave behind, for the people he'd let down, for the calamity he wasn't able to defeat. but this was the outcome he'd expected, even if it had come in a slightly different form. Even if now there was a girl hovering above him begging him to open his eyes.

#can you tell i never stop thinking about this specific moment? lol #i still think my loz dissertation line about this moment goes hard btw.#'There is a flash of golden light. He cannot raise his head to witness it. but it is warm. so warm. it feels like safety. like home.#He closes his eyes and breathes in. he is sure he is dying. This will be his last breath. At least it will be warm and soft and golden.'#like damn ok 2021 blue. you get it. go off #asks #zelda analysis

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blood-starved-beast · 1 month

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how would you interpret Maria hugging hunter in her visceral? i always thought of it as some sort of mockery from her

Sort of, but in the way that her whole fight is sort of a "mockery" of the concept of a dashing Heroic romance (In the Shakespearean sense of the term). Let me explain.

First, we have to understand Maria's character design in that she is of the bifauxnen archetype. The bifauxnen is a handsome, gentleman-ly type woman portraying all the traits we associate with a dashing hero: courageous, refined and sometimes aristocratic, and androgynous. She is the counterpart to the bishonen, the contrast to the more coarse Lad-ette. The most famous of this archetype of course is Lady Oscar from Rose of Versailles. She is essentially a Female Prince.

The Lady Maria reflects this design. Out of all the Hunters and Byrgenwerth crew, she is the one dressed to the Nines, wearing dashing Cainhurst fashion to something that is essentially nasty and wet and all the other things (the Hunt). She's wearing jewelry (the Lumenflower brooch) the cravat, the fact she curls her hair, the aristocratic looks and backstory (the fact that she's the Lady Maria, a Knight of Cainhurst Vileblood royalty), the fact that she was the one taking care of the Research patients and they worship her, etc. Her outfit fits along the lines of the Lady Oscars, Alucards, and so forth. The fact that she is the only one to realize the atrocity of her actions, to regret her actions and reject her calling as a Hunter, is so fucking introspective at the cost of noticing Gehrman's mania for example reads very much in line of a Romantic hero. She is presenting a Look and this Look says she is meant to come off as rich, handsome, and heroic as she's slaying monsters. At least, those are the visual cues the player is meant to read in that sense. And that is carried over into her actions.

Lady Maria fights the Hunter to "liberate [them] from [their] wild curiosity" - she is taking the role again, of the hero. The villain here, being that need for Insight and she is saving the Hunter from the call of blood. She then engages you a fight, a dance really, set to waltz - again, playing with those romantic hero tropes (assuming you don't parry her to death). The visceral attack therefore, plays into that fantasy. She treats you so gently cause of course you are the Victim enslaved by your thirst for knowledge, she is the romantic hero, mercy killing you with the sweet kiss of death. She steadies you as your now heartless body bleeds out onto the floorboards of the clocktower.

But like everything in Bloodborne, there is a catch you see. Cause the Lady Maria is not a hero in fact; she is a bloody coward.

Yes, Maria is the only member of the Byrgenwerth crew (and amongst the few Hunter in general) to make a dry stop + u-turn from the Hunt and the atrocities associated with that. But unlike someone like Djura, who at least is trying to be productive in his redemption, Maria runs from her mistakes. She casts Rakuyo into the Well and leaves. She joins the Research Hall and contributes to more atrocities there, but hey at least all the patients there love her right?? (😬) And when her brooding (or maybe insanity? who says she was immune to the Beast plague? Or Kos infecting her brain??) was too much for her, she takes her own life instead of you know, working to dismantle the systems - both the Research Hall and the Hunt itself. Her issues and her guilt - that is more important to her than actually helping or saving people. She the Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Lord over nothing else but the reminder of her greatest failure. Both in life and in death.

Cause you see, her stopping the Hunter isn't really about saving them from their wild curiosity. The Fishing Hamlet is dead and gone. The effects are echoing throughout all of Yharnam in this day and age. Heck, the Hunter just came in from the Research Hall itself. It is well and truly Known, to prevent future atrocities of that scale, one has to know the events that led to those atrocities in the First Place. Lady Maria isn't helping you, isn't saving you from anything you already knew to begin with. She is, once again, trying to alleviate her own guilt and shame and trying to prevent others of knowing of that shame. So she tries to kill you. But you know, in a Heroic way. Hence why the whole fight is a sham and mockery.

She also hates your guts. I consider this to be tertiary canon at best, but the deleted lines has it so that she calls you insufferable, and baits you to kill her. She Does Not Actually Give a Shit About You. It cannot be more blatant than that. And how couldn't she? You make her recall her greatest shame, force her to break the last of her principles (no Vilebloodbending) so that your ass does not learn of what she's done. You also keep coming back, so you're a constant reminder that no matter what she does, her actions really do mean nothing, not before, and definitely not now.

Also she stares at you like this the whole fight if looks could kill well, you would be dead and not coming back (The way you ought to. Bastard. Stay dead already!! - Lady Maria, probably):

So yeah, she is mocking you with a oh so sweet kiss from the Handsome Hero type as she rips your heart out (breaking it) and kills you very dead. Cause fuck the Hunter specifically.

#lady maria of the astral clocktower #bloodborne #my meta #me shaking Maria: YOU ARE SO STINKY!!! RATTY BASTARD #Also there is something to be said about how she cries out to the Moon Presence like Gehrman does when she's killed #but she never actually Made Contact with Her #Crying out to a God who is Deaf to Her #as she's dragged to Kosm Hell where she belongs!!#so yeah

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spacecowboyhotch · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 6: Phone Sex

pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, jake being a tease and really hot (as usual)

wc: 535

an: for my bb @juneknight. smooshin (perhaps smoochin) you 😚

kinktober masterlist | moonknight masterlist

“C’mon, honey, it’s been a week,” Jake croons down the line, his voice much more soft than usual.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask— you want to say Marc, he’s the one who started to piece together crumbs for this excursion. But, you know that he wouldn’t have done it without input from Jake and Steven.

“The coward who won’t show his fucking face. But, I don’t wanna talk about him.”

Heat burns your cheeks as he redirects the conversation, “No, you want to talk about sex. It’s dirty, Jake.”

The two of you have been going back and forth. He wants you to talk dirty to him so that he can get off. He’s been buttering you up since he called, but you’ve vehemently protested. If anyone is the expert on dirty talk in this relationship it’s him— all of them really. You don’t want to embarrass yourself.

“Not just about sex, about how soft and wet and tight—“

“Jake,” You whine shyly, shifting as you lay in bed.

The sound drives him wild, he’s hard, palming at himself through his boxers. He can picture you laid in his bed, looking so sweet, smelling so sweet in one of his shirts and nothing else.

“Such a prude, a sweet innocent girl, hmm? I don’t think so,” He teases.

“Yes,” You say indignantly, lifting your chin in defiance.

He takes a deep, ragged breath as he continues to tease you, “Really? I don’t think a sweet innocent girl would beg for my cock.”

“Maybe our definitions are different,” You say weakly, noticing the ache that grows between your thighs.

“And so defiant,” He muses softly, his breath still a little labored.

You open your mouth to say something snarky but then there’s something happening in the background that you can’t make out, something soft. Something wet. You hold your breath, pressing the phone closer to your ear. You can’t see it but Jake smiles at your silence, knows exactly what you’re doing.

“Can you hear me?” He whispers playfully, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re— are you— touching yourself?” You ask breathily.

“I’m teaching you,” He corrects. “Are you wet? Needy?”

“N-no.”

“My desperate innocent girl. No ache between those thighs? I bet you are, bet you're squeezing those thighs together trying to relieve yourself. It’s not as good as my cock is it? Not even your fingers, none of your toys.”

All you can do is whimper, and it drives him insane, closer to his peak as he strokes himself at a steady pace, “Fuck, you’re so fucking sweet. S’close just teasing you. Just picturing how your pussy would squeeze me tight.”

“Jake, I—“

Whatever you’re about to say is cut off by a long, deep groan from him. It’s a sound you know well, once that you love to hear and you wish that you could see him. You want to see the way his brows knit together, the way his mouth falls open as he cums.

“Fuck. You here still?”

“Yeah I…guess you didn’t need my help?” You breathe, clearly affected.

He grins, “You helped plenty. Now— do you need some help?

oscar taglist: @honeybrowne, @pastanoodles11, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @stevengrcnt, @greg-montgomery, @lesbianhotch, @mccn-bcys, @marc-spectorr, @whatthefishh, @simpforbritgents, @maisondenachtai, @silversprings-mp3, @flightlessangelwings

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley smut #moonknight fanfiction #arson’s kinktober #fawktober2023 #not sfw

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cod-z · 1 month

Text

Lonely Pt. 2

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: Angst/Comfort, Alcohol usage, Isolation, Not taking care of self (Not Reader), Slight Manipulation (if you squint enough), sorry if I missed any-

Pairing(s): (Choose)141 x Reader

| One-shots | Pt. 1 | A/N: I'VE HAD THIS SONG ON LOOP FOR MAYBE 10-11 HOURS NOW!? How did I not go insane?

----------------------------------

Can’t believe I had a girl like you And I just let you walk right outta my life

He watches you pack your belongings, the burning sensation of the rage that he felt slowly fading away the more of your items disappeared from his drawers and closet till there were no traces left of you in your once shared bedroom, moving to the bathroom to gather your toiletries.

The shampoo that he had become accustomed to when you stayed over for the night, the body wash that always linger on you after a shower, letting him inhale the sweet fumes, the toothbrush that sat next to his, a mockery of a relationship that you both could have if he wasn’t such a coward to confess but rather hurt you instead. Watching you take the light pastel towel that was in your favourite colour, different tones to create a beautiful landscape if laid down. Soon the bathroom had become bare of your presence too.

After all I put you through You still stuck around and stayed by my side What really hurt me is I broke your heart Baby, you’re a good girl and I had no right

Packing the last of your things in the living, the weighted blanket that you had bought for the both of you, no longer on the sofa but in your arms as you shove it into your duffel bag. The realisation dawned on him. You were going to leave, you weren’t going to fight for the messed up relationship that he kept self-sabotaging. You were in love with him but the constant insecurities that he forced down upon you, suggesting what he could to get better, and without him wanting to change, it was tiring you - mentally, emotionally and physically, to the point you were getting unwell yourself.

Wide-eyes followed your every movement, his hand shooting up the moment you grabbed onto the handle and opening the door. The storm raging outside fit the same tension that was in the house that you had spent many nights in, his hand holding onto your forearm as his eyes pleads for you to stay. The excuse that left his mouth, being that he didn’t want you to get sick and wet which was half true but also because he doesn’t want you to leave. Leave him.

His hand leaves your forearm before placing it on the strap of your duffel bag, sliding it off as he nears your body till his chest touches your back, embracing you slowly. His arms sliding in between yours till they encased your waist and pulled you closer to him, his hands sliding down your arms and down to your hands as if you were a fragile flower that threatened to collapse on the wrong move.

I really wanna make things right ‘Cause without you in my life girl, I’m so

His breathing was steady, eyes focused on tracing his hands on your body, scared to frighten you off into the rainstorm that was outside, letting you disappear out of his life. Why couldn’t he be like this all the time with you? It would’ve saved you both from the heartaches and regrets that were to come, yet he continued what he had done.

Your bags were on the floor near the closed door, tucked away under the hanged coats, above yours and his shoes, both different styles and strangely they seem to correlate with one another. You lay next to him in the bed that you desperately wanted to escape, the memories too painful to even sleep as you smell the fresh sheets of him and a slight lingering scent of the broad that he had over 2 days ago, the stinging sensation in your eyes overwhelmed you.

Lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl)

You love him but you know he doesn’t feel the same even when his actions felt like it, but you know the truth. It hurts when the person you love doesn’t love you back, but it hurts even more when they pretend that they do.

Slipping away from the bulk of his arms you tacitly and silently change back into your attire, worm your way down the stairs as quietly as you could finally reaching the end of the stairs, your hand wraps around the handles of your bags while slinging your duffel bag over your shoulders once more. You stare up at the darkened hallway up the stairs, the tears threatening to fall but you held them back, your head moving directing to the door, you take a deep breathe in as you grasp the handle - pushing it down, the door gaping, finally disappearing into the downpour of the night - the door closing behind you.

I’m so lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I am so lonely

Morning light seeps through the condensed windows, droplets of the aftermath that the storm left behind, slid down the window panes, sparkles of the light shining through the droplets creating soft refractions painting it on the walls.

The fluorescent light looming over his form, creating shadows on the walls, the rays shining over his eyes, disturbing him to wake. His hair was a messed up from his slumber as he oscitate while he stretched his limbs, half turning his body to place his arm around you, his hand meeting the softness of the empty mattress next to him.

Been all about the world, ain’t never met a girl That can take the things that you been through Never thought the day would come where you’d get up and run And I would be out chasing you

Never had he moved so fast in his life, including missions that he has been on, not even when his own life was in danger, his blurry image ran into room after room till the entire second floor was searched twice for your form. His heart flurried with a storm of emotions, his mind and heart yelling at him that he was too late, that he had lost you, that you were never coming back to him.

To his dismay the entire house was cleared of your existence.

His body was still tense, still waiting for you to open the doors that you walked out of to come back to his arms, but his body had already accepted that you were gone, he took his time and played with your heart and you were gone. As realisation creeps in his body went auto-pilot, no longer being aware that he was slowly walking towards the sofa, figments of the past tormenting him as he sees a faded glow of both of your figures sitting there, coddling each other in your blanket.

The past forms dispersing the moment he sits down, planting his head into his hands, his broad shoulders shaking as he lets out the tears that had been trapped behind his facade. He felt the room around him crumble, the paint on the walls chipping off, his house slowly being sucked into the void, the accessories in the room disintegrating into thin air till it was just him and the sofa in the void.

‘Cause ain’t nowhere in the globe I’d rather be Ain’t no one in the globe I’d rather see Than the girl of my dreams that made me be So happy but now so lonely Lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I’m so lonely (so lonely)

Drink in his hand, the muffled yet blaring sound of ‘Lonely’ by Akon echoes around him even when he leaves his room for the first time in a couple of weeks, heading to the bar you both had met. His thoughts of bumping into you clouded his mind, false hope making him delusional as each person that had a similar aspect of you made him jolt, but only to be brought to disappointment when their face wasn’t yours.

His head-accessory hid the bird’s nest that was his hair while covering the tired bags underneath his eyes, his complexion had become pale from the lack of sun since he had closed his blinds when you had left that night, afraid to face the storms alone.

I’m so lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I am so lonely

Kicked out of the bar again, the fifth time this week. He had become a shell of the man you once knew, no longer the player that he was but an alcoholic that wants to forget the world and yet he can’t. You were his world. He was just an idiot who didn’t realise it sooner, then you were gone when the moon had shone down the path to the white light, away from him.

Never thought that I’d be alone I didn’t think you’d be gone this long I just want you to call my phone So stop playing girl and come home

His body laid on the cold, dirtied concrete, similar to him, both his past and present self, a pathetic man that never noticed the gem that he had in his palm till it rolled away from him and slipped into the mountainous of rocks that he got you out from. 1 in a billion, you were. He was the bastard who had covered you in soot and proclaimed you as just another rock that was throwable, not needing the proper care to shine and he regrets it.

He sobs on the ground, wetting the slab beneath him, the nightly breeze biting his skin as people walk around him. A couple passed him, the female looking at him with pity though her partner averted her gaze, whispering that he was a lost cause, and how he couldn’t agree more with the stranger. He was a lost cause. He was without you.

His regrets were mixed with the rain water, then another and another, till the rain was pelting his figure to the ground, falling quicker and harder than the tears he shed. The memories you leave that night. He wonders if you had made it to somewhere safe in this condition, you were so much stronger than him, walking out, probably holding tears back, carrying your heavy bags in the downpour in the middle of the night. He gathers himself on his knees, ignoring the pain in his knees as he screams in anguish:

“Baby girl, I didn’t mean to shout I want me and you to work it out…”

His head slumps forward with the wetness of his hair, his head-accessory gone when he was thrown out, his words becoming the sobbing mess it was before. His knees planted on the ground, his hands lurching forward to the ground, his sobs reducing to hiccups and voice cracks as he cries out your name.

“I never wished to ever hurt my baby And it’s drivin’ me crazy ‘cause I’m so…”

He lets out a sob, his thick tears no longer recognisable as the rain had drenched him in his breakdown.

A shadow looms over him, the rain coming to a sudden stop over him, his darkened eyes landing on a pair of familiar shoes, it couldn’t be. His eyes followed up the figure, recognisable features that he came to know over the years being refreshed before his eyes were acquainted with yours. His breath hitched in his throat, his mouth agape.

“Lonely…” (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl)

He looked at you as if you were an ethereal being that you had graced him with your being, his eyes sparkling as if you had a halo that ringed around your head. You reached out a hand for him to take. This couldn’t be real, he thought to himself, you were gone for so long and yet here you were in your glorious ambience.

His wet, bitter, rough hand shakingly covers yours, afraid that if he was too forward with his movements you’d disappear again, choked sobs and gasps of disbelief rang between the both of you.

I’m so lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I am so lonely

He lets out a whimper before drawing back, you weren’t there, surely you weren’t. He had hurt you, you wouldn’t come back to him, his thoughts being interrupted as you take his hand in yours. Comfort, soft yet firm, reassuring as you caressed his hand with your thumb.

A loud whimper leaves his throat before getting off the ground, slightly tackling you into a hug, surprising you as you lift the umbrella so he wouldn’t hit it and you didn’t mind the dampness that came onto your clothes. One of your arms gently wraps around him, gently soothing his back as he silently cries into your shoulder, a small smile lifting on the edges of your lips never seeing him this vulnerable.

So lonely (lonely) So lonely (so lonely) Mr. Lonely (lonely) So lonely (so lonely)

You welcome him into your arms, letting the pitter-patter of rain engulf you both, the street lights dimly lighting the both of you, the empty streets giving you both the privacy that you need to comfort him. Neither of you spoke, letting the actions speak the words that were needed.

So lonely (lonely) So lonely (so lonely) So lonely Mr. Lonely

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blushweddinggowns · 10 months

Text

Eddie was…struggling to say the least. And by the end of the first week of sticking around this city, he was completely out of ways to rationalize what the fuck he was still doing here.

Indianapolis was just supposed to be a pitstop after visiting Wayne. Then, he was supposed to see Chrissy in a few days, spend some time in San Francisco before jet setting around the world for his year-long vacation. But instead here he was, avoiding Chrissy’s calls, opting instead to take the coward’s route of sending cryptic texts and reassurances that he was fine. Despite the fact that he’d canceled his flight a few days ago.

And for what? Some hot guy he had only seen twice? That he couldn’t even get past first base with?

And while technically it was the best date of his life, that didn’t exactly warrant whatever the fuck he was doing here. And that wasn’t even mentioning all of the fucking lies.

It was safe to say that he was floundering over here. Which was so fucking stupid. He was Eddie fucking Munson for God’s sake, not some lovesick highschooler. And he was sure that there were many easier flings to be had in his immediate future if he just left. This was when it was time to abort the mission right? He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and that was that.

So why was that so hard to accept? Why was he so fucking obsessed with this dude? Eddie had no fucking clue. Well…maybe he had some clue. Because Steve was funny. And he was smart, adventurous, and interesting enough for Eddie to want to know everything about him. Not to mention painfully attractive. And then add in being a complete sweetheart on top of everything else.

All Eddie knew was that he wanted to see him again. And leaving now felt…wrong. Because Steve liked him. He obviously liked him, or at least Eddie really hoped he liked him. He at least liked him enough to give him his number. And answer his calls.

They had been talking a lot in the past few days. Historically, Eddie had always hated phone calls, especially when a single text could usually save you a half an hour of awkward small talk. But with Steve…it was different. Everything with Steve was different. They didn’t even have to be talking about anything important. They spent an hour and a half the other night debating over plot holes in the Lord of the Rings franchise.

He had been calling him from the hotel’s room phone, adding in yet another lie about forgetting his cell in his non-existent fumigated apartment. But he didn’t feel too guilty about that one. Especially since he went through the extra effort to buy a new real (fake?) cellphone. One that he had purchased specifically for talking to Steve with. Because no matter how much he liked the guy, he wasn’t breaking the cardinal rule of keeping his real number a secret. Not after the insane shit fans sent him the last time it accidently went public.

No, he did the much saner thing of dropping eight hundred dollars on a smartphone and an extra phone plan that he’d only use to talk to the dude he’d been dating for less than a week.

He really was killing it with the circular logic these days. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore. This whole…thing had gotten away from him. And it was becoming a touch too insane for Eddie to keep rationalizing the lies. And it wasn’t even his usual brand of insanity, this felt almost clinical.

But that didn’t stop him from dialing Steve’s number the second his new account was officially activated.

It rang twice before Steve answered, “Hello?”

God, even the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie shiver.

“Hey it’s me,” Eddie said like a moron. Like Steve would recognize his voice after one date and a handful of calls-

“Oh Eddie, hi!” Steve said, and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s so weird. I was literally just thinking about you. I’m guessing you got your phone back?”

It was the smallest bit disconcerting, that just the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie’s heart beat like crazy. He was kind of used to being the guy who made people nervous, not the other way around. Though he had to admit, it was a little exhilarating to be on the other side of it.

“I did. And you were huh? What were you thinking about?” Eddie purred, more than a bit proud that his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. But if he was ever going to fuck this guy he needed to amp up the charm.

But unfortunately for him, Steve was very good at throwing him for a loop, “You know those Afghan Hounds with the really long hair? Well I just saw a black one that I swear looked exactly like you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, loud and unbidden, “God, you really know the way into a man’s heart don’t you? Who doesn’t like being compared to a dog?”

“It was a very pretty dog,” Steve tried, “Extremely cute.”

Eddie laid back on his bed, smiling at the ceiling like an idiot, "You think I'm pretty?"

He couldn’t see him, but Eddie could swear that Steve was rolling his eyes before saying, "I think you know you're pretty. You’ve seen a mirror before right? Y’know, the shiny things that show your reflection?”

God, he could be such a little bitch. Eddie freaking loved it.

“Well now you’re just making me blush,” Eddie laughed, hoping that it came off as a little sarcastic instead of painfully honest.

“And I bet that’s pretty too. So what's up?"

Oh y’know, just obsessively thinking about you near constantly, “I was just wondering when I would get to see you again.”

"Well, my sister's going to be at her girlfriend's place tonight. How do you feel about coming over? I know it’s late but-”

“I’d love to,” Eddie interrupted, already excited. If that wasn’t a green light for them going further Eddie didn’t know what was. In a few hours it would be nearly midnight. And Eddie was more than down for a booty call, “When?”

“Maybe a few hours? I can text you the address. I’m sorry that my schedule is so fucked, but y’know. Night shift.”

“No worries. Guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Looking forward to it.”

From the latest chapter of this fic, inspired by this post

#steddie #rockstar eddie munson #bartender steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #a very dumb famous man falls for an oblivious sweetheart #thats the fic

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psychwxrdd · 3 months

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MORE STEP BRO DONNIE IM BEGGINGGGGGG

so sorry for taking long sweetheart, i've been working on a lot of requests but i'm really hating everything i write lately. you guys have so many good ideas i wanna write about all of them, at some point i swear i will, just need to work on this because i want it to be good. donnie makes me so inspired y'all can send any requests about him whenever y'all want to !!

Rumours

Summary: Donnie, your step brother, takes you to Middlesex "most haunted house" on Hallowen's night, where apparently, a terrible case of murder happened. He wants to play with Ouija Board. You always believed in demons and evil itself, but never would've imagine it to come this close to you.

masterlist

Warnings: Horror, Demonic Possession, Supernatural themes, Ouija Board, Domestic Violence, Murder, Non Con, 18+

english is not my first language btw, always apologize for any mistakes!

do not read this if any of the warnings makes you feel uncomfortable or triggered. i explore horror, grotesque and dark themes, if you can't stand it, just don't read PLEASE

"Are you sure this won't get us in trouble?" You hissed, already regretting for even suggesting the house near Donnie. You knew he was a freak, knew he would have some stupid idea and he would persuade you to do it, in one way or another. Hands sweating, heart anxious and a belly ache. Felt like you'd die at any second with so much panic.

"Trust me, we're gonna have fun, it's much better than if we just went to some boring party, you wouldn't have a story to tell your kids." He tapped the back of your head and you sighed. You were finally in front of the so called haunted house.

It didn't looked awful, not at all, it was pretty preserved. The rumours said the crime happened back in the late 60s or early 70s, a couple used to live there with their only children. Not a child, actually, probably a teenager or a young adult, you weren't quite sure which one was the "true" history - If anything really did in fact happen, so many different versions were told. They were italians apparently, and the dad was an alcoholic, violent man. You even heard a version telling there was a sister but that she had depression and tried to kill herself, so he send her to a mental hospital. Not because he cared, he didn't wanted people to associate her to them.

Then one day, while his wife and son were sleeping, he woke up and shoot them both. He told the authorities it was the house, that "they told him to do it ", and since they moved in his behaviour had changed completely, making him act like a mad man. No one ever told you the end, what could have possibly happened to him; Was he arrested? Checked in a mental hospital for insanity? Did anyone took it seriously, the possibilty of a possession?

But again, it was just a urban legend. Just some history to tell to your friends in school and make them hold their pee because they are too scared to walk to the bathroom alone. It was stupid to consider and fear this.

"You're coming?" Donnie asked and you blinked, realizing you were thinking too much about it, more than you should. At your big age, shouldn't be so scared of ghost stories.

"Yeah."

"Y'know i won't let anything bad happen to you, first noise and we run as fast as we can" He reassured you, cleaning the Ouija Board with a piece of his shirt. You just nod, too nervous to reply. "Hey, look, we can leave if you're really scared"

"No...I'm not a coward." You tried to act confident.

He opened the door, a sharp sound ringing through the empty, big place. It was definetly very old, smelled like something rotting, something left behind for enough time to be forgotten.

"Shit" Donnie muttered. His eyes scanning the whole living room, a bit amazed. If the family stuff was true, then they were surely rich and europeans in fact. He couldn't help but feel disturbed by the slight different tone of colors next to the window, it didn't looked just dirty, it looked like something you can not wash away, something penetrated permanently. Like when you break a glass of grape juice and take too long to clean, like you slept for days and forgot it there.

You were too tense to dive on it, tho. You didn't wanted to think about what was that, maybe just some other dumb teenagers who got inside the house to drink, do drugs or have sex. It could be anything really.

"C'mon, let's do it Donnie"

"What a badass" He smiled, teasing. You just rolled your eyes.

"Should we do it right here or upstairs?"

"I don't know if those stairs are trustable"

"Or are you just scared?"

This time, Donnie stared at you with an annoyed look, making you laugh.

"I don't fear anything."

"Yeah, sure" You crossed your arms. "I wanna see the bedrooms."

Sighing, he just agreed. Very carefully stepping ground by ground, afraid of it might breaking all of sudden. You held his arm, strongly, more scared of falling than of any ghost.

In fact, the house was very big, you would easily live here - if you had the money to afford it in perhaps another life. The first room was probably the guests one. Following to two big bathrooms, one with a bathtub, and more five rooms. It was hard to guess which one could had possibly belonged to any of them. Again, maybe there weren't any of "them".

"Look at this" Donnie grabbed your wrist, and you felt your mouth opening. That room belonged to a teenager, for sure.

Bowie, Morrison, Nick Drake, MLB and Sharon Tate's posters on the wall, cars and trucks miniatures, organized shells of books... Someone surely used to live there.

"You think his ghost will curse us if we steal some...?" He asked, and you tapped his arm.

"Shut up" You were still curious about everything, but mostly, you were paralized by the fear that hit you once you realized maybe the rumours were true after all. "We're playing it here"

He widened his eyes. "...Okay"

"Whats the stare for?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea, you know, if this was really the son's room and if the history is true, we're being hella disrespectful"

You chuckled, sarcastically.

"Are you fucking serious? Donnie this was your idea! It doesn't matter which place from the house, we're already here for only one reason, that would be disrespectful at anywhere!"

He sighed. You wanted to punch him in the face.

"Yeah, but-"

"Cut the "but", don't be a fucking coward!"

Darko's face went to a blank expression. "Okay, i'm not a fucking coward."

You sat on the floor, no longer wasting time. He followed you.

"You know the rules, don't you?" He asked in a serious tone, you nodded. "Answer with words"

"Yes, i know the rules!" You noticed how tense he was by the mood swing.

"Once we start this, you can not leave, not take your finger off of the board, you have to be focused, alright?"

"Alright" you breathed, heavily. You kind of wanted to cry, you didn't even really wanted this in the beggining, Donnie convinced you. Then he gets scared and regret and now he's dead serious, it did something to your brain. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack at any second.

The silence was bothering you, way too much. You wanted to turn your head and stare at the door every 5 seconds, but you couldn't. The only sound in the room was you and Donnie's heavy breath.

"I start" He explained. You just stared at him, your fingers were holding so tight against the board you saw it was white. "Try to control the shaking hands"

You tried your hardest, but it was almost impossible. You were too nervous, even your chin was creaking a bit.

"Dear spirits, we want to talk. Is there any spirit in the room with us right now?"

Nothing.

"Is anyone else here?"

Nothing.

Your hands both stood there, not moving for anything in this world - and out of this world, mostly. Still, nothing happened.

"Is any spirit in the room willing to talk to us right now?"

Then, it moved. It fucking moved. You felt your whole body tingling, your heart beating faster and your hands felt cold. It couldn't be really happenin, could it?

You knew - felt - Donnie was also scared as hell, but he was stronger than you, he tried to be. He wanted to show you he would protect you, that "he had no fear". Fear is not what move us as human beings, he hated that idea.

"Now that you're in the room with us, please, tell us your name"

Your hands both moved to random letters. It didn't made any sense, it seemed like just a bunch of non sense words. You were quick to come with one, it was "bowshed".

You were both paralized in fear, you could feel Donnie's hand sweating.

"How did you died?"

Again, the hands moved to random letters. The same letters. "bowshed".

You could tell Donnie was trying hard to figure out what word was that, what the hell did that meant.

"When did you died?"

The hands moved to the numbers over the board. "31/10/1973"

Your eyes were filled with tears, but you breathed and swallowed, you had to be brave.

"What do you want?" Donnie asked, and you stared at him with wide eyes. The wasn't exactly a proper question to ask to a ghost you invoked, probably.

"Donnie, what are you doing?"

He then took his hands off of the board, all of sudden, standing up, moving towards you so quickly you thought it was inhuman. He grabbed you by the throat.

"Don-" You struggled to finish, chocking on his strong hands "Donnie..."

There was something different about his eyes. It didn't looked dark, or red, or any other color. But it looked like someone else's eyes. It wasn't Donnie, it looked so weird, so disturbing. If it wasn't for his hands on your neck, you would scream in fear.

"Who invited you, bitch?" He hollered, you smelled alcohol and weed on his breath. "Huh?"

His veins were popping out of his forehead in anger, his face looked red.

"Cat got your tongue?" He threw you on the floor and you desperatedly cried and gasped for air, crawling backwards in direction to the door. But before you could get there, you heard it slamming hard.

Donnie, or whoever was that, kept staring at you. He took his belt off, and you frozed, crying hysterically. You were ready to feel the pain against your skin, but then you heard a woman screaming.

You opened your eyes, and the scene in front of you made you feel chills all over your body; Donnie was smiling at you. Not the usual smiles he gave you, this was sinister. You just wanted to run to your mom now, you were in fact a coward, it didn't mattered.

You heard now also the sound of what it seemed to be a boy crying, it was horrible to hear. There was blood all over the floor, you couldn't tell where was it coming from.

Then he suddenly grabbed you, turning you around and pressing your face agaisnt the floor. This couldn't be happening. He sat upon you, lifting your dress up and beating the belt on your ass.

"Gotta teach you some manners, whore. Teach you to not fucking get to whats none of your business"

He hitted, again. Again. Again. Again. The more he hitted you, the more you heard the woman voice's screaming. You never wished so bad to have a nightmare, you wanted this all to be nothing more than a nightmare.

"Please, stop..." You begged, sobbing.

You heard him unzipping his pants. No, no, no, this wasn't happening. You were not there.

"What did you do to Donnie?" you cried, "Where is my brother, what have you done to him?"

He said nothing, only putting your panties to the side and spitting on your clit. He rubbed slowly, and your body reacted slightly, as terrible as it sounds.

He placed himself inside you, and you screamed at his size. "Thats it, my little step sis" You frozed, how the fuck did that thing knew that?

You cried and he held your hair with one hand, pounding into you like you were just as inhuman as him. The pain started to feel like pleasure, somehow, maybe it was just your body protecting you. You never felt so terrified, ever, this was all unreal, this was an horror movie.

It wasn't a movie. It was your life.

"He is dead" He mumbled. "Bloodshed"

Your eyes grew wide. "What...What did you just..."

"Bloodshed. They are all dead."

#donnie darko x reader #donnie darko x yn #donnie darko x you #donnie x reader #donnie x y/n #donnie x you #donnie darko fanfic #donnie darko #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x y/n #horror #ouija board #dark fanfiction #horror fanfiction #supernatural #stepbro! donnie #stepbro! donnie darko

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oscconfessions · 17 days

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I don’t like any inanimate insanity ships ☠️. My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. This is my confession. If you're watching this tape, I'm probably dead, murdered by my brother-in-law Hank Schrader. Hank has been building a meth empire for over a year now and using me as his chemist. Shortly after my 50th birthday, Hank came to me with a rather, shocking proposition. He asked that I use my chemistry knowledge to cook methamphetamine, which he would then sell using his connections in the drug world. Connections that he made through his career with the DEA. I was... astounded, I... I always thought that Hank was a very moral man and I was... thrown, confused, but I was also particularly vulnerable at the time, something he knew and took advantage of. I was reeling from a cancer diagnosis that was poised to bankrupt my family. Hank took me on a ride along, and showed me just how much money even a small meth operation could make. And I was weak. I didn't want my family to go into financial ruin so I agreed. Every day, I think back at that moment with regret. I quickly realized that I was in way over my head, and Hank had a partner, a man named Gustavo Fring, a businessman. Hank essentially sold me into servitude to this man, and when I tried to quit, Fring threatened my family. I didn't know where to turn. Eventually, Hank and Fring had a falling out. From what I can gather, Hank was always pushing for a greater share of the business, to which Fring flatly refused to give him, and things escalated. Fring was able to arrange, uh I guess I guess you call it a "hit" on my brother-in-law, and failed, but Hank was seriously injured, and I wound up paying his medical bills which amounted to a little over $177,000. Upon recovery, Hank was bent on revenge, working with a man named Hector Salamanca, he plotted to kill Fring, and did so. In fact, the bomb that he used was built by me, and he gave me no option in it. I have often contemplated suicide, but I'm a coward. I wanted to go to the police, but I was frightened. Hank had risen in the ranks to become the head of the Albuquerque DEA, and about that time, to keep me in line, he took my children from me. For 3 months he kept them. My wife, who up until that point, had no idea of my criminal activities, was horrified to learn what I had done, why Hank had taken our children. We were scared. I was in Hell, I hated myself for what I had brought upon my family. Recently, I tried once again to quit, to end this nightmare, and in response, he gave me this. I can't take this anymore. I live in fear every day that Hank will kill me, or worse, hurt my family. I... All I could think to do was to make this video in hope that the world will finally see this man, for what he really is.

#confession #/ii

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finnitesimal · 8 months

Text

Ordem Paranormal Quarantena fucking knocked it out of the park it was insane Im grappling with so much I'm so insanely tired

There was a funny bit I was thinking of around the whole second bit where I was going Carol you hallmark protagonist fuck

Because first of all her name. that was the main part it's on the same level as Noel and Nick and Holly but there were also certain aspects of her character that in my delirious mind reminded me of the hypocrisy and drama of the typical independent business lady in a christmas movie as well as the I-can-do-no-wrong mindset of a romantic fantasy shoujo romance protagonist

And I thought. Man. There was a very clear path this story couldve taken with these characters and setting if it were not roleplay.

(note: not talking about the ccs or the actual characters but the Tropes the characters fall into and Could've been in generic science fiction horror)

A plucky new scientist with dreams to make a difference in an evil monster-ridden world and prove her skills despite being underestimated and looked down on by her friends and colleagues, and her direct senior with whom she has a negative relationship with due to his demonstrated lack of practical skill but mysterious higher connections to the board and therefore is ranked higher while she falls behind. She has moments of butting heads with him before the disaster breaks out in the facility and she has to struggle to stay alive and hidden until she's rescued by that same suddenly impressive senior with whom there's multiple tight spaces to be stuck with and convenient makeovers and sudden cold they have to share body warmth for. It's overWhelmingly easy to guess the plot

The plot in which None of the gang are mentioned. Because in this hypothetical B-list horror romance, they don't exist as people, but plot devices and tropes

They're there to provide funny moments and emotional weight as well as conflict to the overdone plot.

You have Luis, tank, everyman strongman with a soft heart and unclear but dangerous living conditions (poor). Probably the backup boyfriend in case the thing with Mikael doesn't work out, ends up sacrificing his life to save her due to some completely preventable situation cause she was too stubborn to listen, and gets a future project (maybe even a baby) named after him.

You have Jeffrey, funnyman, scapegoat, coward with zero friends and terrible priorities, multiple jobs (poor). Kind of useless, constantly infuriating and taking up space and meddling with things he doesn't know Anything about when she could've made a solution if he'd handed it over and dies to the zombies for the crime of irritating our protag.

Diego, hippie allegory, lives out of his backpack he literally calls his home, his life (poor) and has herbs (weedhead) that she'd try to be Fixing and eventually succeed in 'reforming' and sending him back to school due to her natural disposition in helping those in need.

You have Lucie, finally another girl, unfortunately in both horror and tropey romance, we Hate any other woman besides our all-powerful and beloved protagonist, so she's the nerd archetype but not the cute, efficient way our protag is nerdy but in the weirdo unnecessarily jargon-filled and Unappealing (unattractive) way. She dies the same way in the movie.

Benito was Made to be hated. It's the sly evil smirk and sunglasses and a beanie with the unprofessional labcoat and talking about things he doesn't understand like he does and taking her accomplishments and mocking her life as a scientist fighting to save the world and how he always seems to be looking down at her and definitely wouldve been the one to hide an infection and endanger the group he's the character whose death you're Meant to starting cheering for when he's dragged kicking and screaming onto the rusty laden, jagged roof and played with and pounced on till his insides squeeze out of him like toothpaste

Mattias was there so our protagonist could have her badass "I'm not like you I won't take a life because you're a coward" speech before he turns and nearly gets the group

Emi and Anderson were there so we could have a real man-to-man fatherly conversation about what it means to protect the ones you love and to pass on the torch as 'Leader' before he succumbs to the virus and begs to die before he hurts his girl, and so they could have wholesome pseudo-parenthood with a confused but reasonable child who absolutely understands that they're doing the right thing because they're the good guys and calls Carol mom when she's in danger near the end

It could've been a zombie survival plot about two arguably well-off individuals facing the consequences of a project they still believe could change the world and their tag-along group of meatshields to throw at the problem until their glorious melancholy escape where they're hailed as heroes for containing and eventually completing their groundbreaking research

and a horrific experience for a group of people who just wanted to make an easy few bucks till the next paycheck. They could've split those 50 dolalrs and jumped each other in the parking lot they didn't need to go through all that

Carol is driven, she's serious, she's ambitious and believes in the good that her research (the team's research) will bring and she's surrounded by people who don't understand that they're the good guys and are trying to find fault in her So she's willing to make sacrifices so she's willing to take it upon herself to decide who the team needs more she doesn't care if she dies as long as the world knows she saved it she needs to hear anything and everything people say in case it's about her or something she might care about it she's got braided hair and easily breakable glasses

Mikael is keeping things to himself to preserve his level of control over the situation because who knows what these guys are really like and he Saved them by telling them everything they need to know and they repay him by chopping his arm off? they're ungrateful and unserious So he kept himself safe while they had numbers and clues on their side They Managed Didn't They? Aren't they alive right now? they don't understand how important it is that he lives no one understands how important it is that Nidere lives he's got stylish curly hair and a fitted turtleneck

They both have a need to be heroes in a sense, to matter in the grand scheme of things they need to be at the forefront they need to be the ones who saved Everyone. Everybody is Only Alive because of THEM.

It's just really fascinating to me how. A different perspective of things kind of switches their roles as protagonists and cannon fodder

#late night thoughts on it #ordem paranormal quarentena #qpq spoilers #jeffrey bacon is my final girl

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papirouge · 6 months

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I gave up on being pro life publicly and online. The genocide in the Congo and in Gaza have proved it to me that many western women who run those pro life accounts don’t care for children. Many babies have been lost due to hospital bombings. More children are displaced with no families.

I’ve tried reaching out when they talk about saving children in generic posts because very real babies are losing their lives by IDF terrorism. And I get blocked or I get told “that’s different/ they’re Muslim/they should have left already/I don’t care” over and over and over again. The countless videos are already out that have children begging and crying for their families they lost or the homes that can’t be saved. Some of the worst messages I read criticized and blame the Palestinian men too that they should be protecting the kids, so when they die, it’s actually Palestinians fault. Not the IDF. Meanwhile those “young men” are just teenagers because their parents are dead. The Congolese topic is worst. Many are begging people to stop buying the iPhone 15 to raise awareness over the issues there but I got told by one girl who likes to call herself an anti woke submissive wife that she couldn’t care less about the Congo, she’s going to do whatever her husband wants, if that means ignoring genocide then that’s what she will do too. It’s her god given to have freedom over dead bodies l…

I’m fed up. I’m sick of the hypocrisy. I’m sick of seeing stupid homestead content of how they’re at peace taking care of a home as they purposefully condone genocide. If some hacker group exposed all these “submissive Godly trad wife” accounts as being agents for Israel to distract the west from IDF war crimes, I wouldn’t be surprised the least. Their apathy is demonic

@not-your-average-prolifer is the only pro life blog who passed the vibe check as far as I know. She reblogged posts about the emergency of pregnant women in Palestine and also post about mental health of middle east women. I think she is left leaning (correct me if I'm wrong!) so I'm not surprised to see her with more empathy about whatever's happening to women abroad, unlike Conservatives who are extremely stupid & uneducated when it comes to foreign affairs, if not straight up xenophobic.

I hope for every single Christian I know to never open their mouth about uwu Christianism is from Middle east uwu ever again the next time someone calls Christianism white man's religion or I'll go berserk on them. They better shut up forever. They had no problem to keep their mouth shut witnessing the martyrdom of our brothers - they better keep it that way permanently and stop summoning their struggle once it's convenient to them. YES, they proved they definitely consider Christianism a white man thing, considering our little care they have for our (non white) Christian brothers overseas. They better keep them out of their mouth permanently.

"They're Muslim" it's been well documented that there are Christians in Palestine. But even if they weren't, Christ wants everyone to be saved and accept him as their lord and savior - refusing to extend some basic empathy to people being bombed and killed in their sin is not the way to go. Never forget that Jesus didn't heal or saved only Jews, but also pagans, prostitutes, etc. It's insane how so unemphatic "Christians" have become.

Christian Palestinians are actually some of the oldest Christians - like, where do they those idiots think Jerusalem was?? where did the Pentecost happen? IN MIAMI?? KANSAS?? "They should have left" WHERE?? aren't the ppl pulling out this argument the same crybabies whining about woke culture destroying western civilization? Why didn't they leave the western zone already??? Also aren't they the same against immigration and how men fleeing their country are lazy cowards? so why are they mad at Palestinians sticking to their land?? Damn, Western politicians/diplomacy have the opportunity to do the funniest thing possible and mass import Palestinians in western countries to abide Zionists requirements in Israel 💀

And LOL oh so now Palestinian men are supposed to protect children? what are they supposed to do when the IDF is bombing their house? Take weapons to defend/get back their land and shit? Oh my bad, that makes them terrorists (and let's be clear : what happened on October 7th is unjustifiable but let's not act like the Hamas wasn't called terrorist much earlier than that). It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't. If they do nothing, they're cowards, and if they do, they are terrorists - because in this case, resistance is defiance. Ultimately they just want to deflect from their own lack on empathy and find a rational explanation to that.

Conservative scrotes are the LAST people who should lecture anyone about defending the children when there are acting bullying kids young enough to be their grandchildren calling them wokes, leftists, or whatever. I won't even start about gun violence and how deflective they are about protecting the children only to protect their precious right to carry. Ghouls. They only care abt unborn babies because they are unable to call them out on their bs yet. Once they do, they'll cuss them, call them woke, and all sort of -ists.

On TikTok there was a Christian girl saying how Christians are "too emotional" and how we should keep supporting "God chosen people" (Israel). I already made a post calling out how this "god chosen people " narrative didn't stand now that we were in the NEW COVENANT. But let's follow her train of thought: isn't humankind made from God image? Where do emotions come from? Didn't God himself have emotion? Why? What's the right or wrong place to have emotion? She and all the clown who agreed with her would never be able to reply those questions. We've all seen the videos. I did what I could to avoid them but they're quite unavoidable at this point. What's the correct emotion after seeing 2 kids younger than 10 carrying a third one crying while one of his foot was hanging with only one tendon?? This girl, along with every single Christian unmoved by this disaster has to shut up. Their heart is a stone and they should stop trying to lecture people who still have a heart made of flesh. We're not the same. Christ is PEACE. Not war or violence.

And girl, you really shouldn't even engage with women labelling themselves "anti woke submissive wife" 💀 why would you expect them to care about anything but their idol (husband)? Stay focus on what really matters. Peace and God. We're in the end times and God is slowly but surely unfolding the truth. The masks are slipping. Take note of all the so called who remained silent witnessing satan action, take proper action, and go on.

#answered #Christian

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