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#But Frenchie will defeat both with time
candied-cae · 2 years
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To Be So Lovely
Chapter 1/1 - - - Read it on AO3
Word Count : 1,703
Summary : One night, when Frenchie comes home, he notices Wee John acting a bit shy. Wee John had never really been taught to appreciate himself, but his lover will not let this last. It's time they had a conversation about John's insecurity, and how truly ravishing Frenchie thinks he is.
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Frenchie had finally finished his turn helping Roach scrub the dishes for the day and was making it back to his and Wee John’s shared room. He threw open the door to see John standing, probably just getting back himself from checking on the gunpowder. Frenchie noticed John often did that if he was going to be a little late getting back, he’d have run below deck to kill more time until they’d be together again. Frenchie thought it was pretty cute.
The large man turned around and smiled seeing him. And just seeing Wee John’s glowing grin would always bring his own onto Frenchie’s face. He walked further into the room, closing the door behind him, and gazed up and down the man’s body. He was a marvelous sight. Frenchie thought so every time he saw him, but after a long day, he always seemed that much more appealing to the eyes.
“There you are.” He mused at the object of his deepest affection.
Frenchie reached out to hold his massive hands and simply adore him when he caught sight of John pulling his shirt off of his body. He’d seen him do so before but wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing it for.
“You look absolutely lovely, darling” Frenchie assured as he leaned in for a kiss.
The kiss was returned but without any response. And then John retreated to the bed and attempted to tuck himself away under the blanket, even in the stifling heat of the tropics in summertime. This was also something Frenchie had noticed him doing before. Neither action made much sense to him, but it almost looked like Wee John was attempting to hide himself and his shape under the fabrics. Frenchie thought such an idea was foolish, simply because he looked too damn good to not be seen.
But now that he was thinking on it, there were other actions Wee John had taken which aroused a certain suspicion. They were kissing rather fervently one time when Frenchie moved to run his hands around John’s hips, and he could feel him go rigid. He reined himself back a bit, John relaxed back into their intimacy, and so he brushed the concern away as just a bit of timidness. It was earlier on in their relationship, after all. And, back when they’d all been marooned together, while most of the crew were stripping off their layers for a chance to bring down their temperature, John just moved to sit in the shade, completely covered. And, while it might’ve not been the exact same sort of situation, Frenchie can’t help remembering that Wee John was the only crew member Stede couldn’t fit into a fancy outfit for their terrible tea time with the English. He’d only seemed to pick at his food that evening.
Frenchie had been sure that if something was bothering John, he would’ve said so to him… but now he was wondering if there was something he’d elected to omit. 
Frenchie stepped into the bed beside him, crossing his legs as he sat and looked at the man next to him,“ Why don’t you let me look at you? You always seem to try and skirt from my view when I just want to behold you.”
Wee John huffed and shook his head,“ It’s ridiculous.”
“What is?” Frenchie asked, carefully leaning closer. He wanted John to know he was really listening.
“Lovely.” Wee John quotes back to him with a roll of his eyes,” A ridiculous word for me.”
Frenchie’s face went something sour at the comment. His Wee John? Not Lovely? He’d never heard something so wrong in his whole life.
“Now, that is something I’d completely disagree with you on.”
There was a tired, or detached, laugh in John’s voice when he answered,“ Then I’d completely disagree with the working of your eyesight.”
That was the first time Frenchie had ever seen him so void. He was usually somewhere between a bright smile, cheeky remark, or wanton desire. But he looked so… small now. Like he’s been drained of any comfort and self-assurance.
“Where is this coming from, John? You must know I find you truly effervescent. A vision to be adored. A wealth of bountiful beauty to be enjoyed.” Frenchie found himself slipping into theatrics with a wide smile as he finished,” You enamor and amaze me every day.”
But Wee John didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him.
Frenchie deflated a bit as he asked again,“ You do know that, right?”
Wee John sighed before answering,” I don’t need you to kid me.”
That line hit Frenchie hard. He wasn’t kidding, not in the least. His mouth fell open in his surprise, but before he could even insist otherwise John continued.
“I know I’m a big guy. Always have been. Might think the big guy don’t get messed with, on account of him being so… but I never was the tight, chiseled, sharp kind of big, and I never was much interested with acting all manly all the time. That kind of big guy? Nobody minded him. But this kind of big guy? He’s just made to be the butt of a joke.”
“I don’t think you’re a joke.” Frenchie says honestly,” You’re wicked funny and my favorite person to laugh with, don’t get me wrong. But not to laugh at.”
Wee John blinked but still didn’t turn towards him. Frenchie shifts a little closer and says,“ You, yourself, Wee John - and your body - they are not a joke.”
“Right.” Wee John laughed to himself at the idea.
“It’s the truth,” He contested,” It’s beautiful, all of it. I love the grey and black of your hair and the way it falls over half your face when it gets tussled through a hard day. I love the shaved sides where I can run my fingers along your scalp. I love your earrings and how they reflect the light all day long, making you the easiest person to find no matter what’s happening. I love your chin and how it moves when you laugh. I love your shoulders and how they lead to your arms. Strong and inked. And how I always feel so immeasurably safe in them. I love tracing over the black drawings when I’m sleepy but can’t bring my eyes to close. I love your hands, so much bigger than mine, and how they hold me so well. Like nothing else could fit me as they do. I love your chest, the wispy hair and the softness, the striking sight of the silver barbells never leaving me un-astounded. I love your belly, so plush and warm and stunning. Its shape makes me think to take a pair of scissors to your shirt so it won’t be so well-tucked into your breeches. I love your rear-”
Frenchie had meant to go on. He could’ve gone on for hours if Wee John needed, but he cut him off.
”And if I said something stupid like that I loved helping my mother make dresses? Because sometimes she’d need to put them on me to fill the fabric so she could mend it right, and I felt pretty for just a few minutes at a time? Then you’d see the joke. Then you’d laugh.”
He said it dismissively. Like he’d already decided that any other answer couldn’t possibly come from the man kneeling beside him. All logical reason said that Frenchie enjoyed him enough despite his size and his playful attempts at softness or seeming dainty. There was nothing to believe otherwise, not against everything he’s known.
“No.” Frenchie asserted firmly. Putting a hand to his shoulder to draw his attention to his serious expression, which Wee John finally looked at, and continued,” Then I’d ask if you wanted a dress of your own sewn to fit your magnificent figure properly.”
And looking into those beautiful browns, so sure and honest… Wee John believed him. Frenchie had just pictured Wee John wearing a dress, a wish he held so quietly close to his heart he’d never spoken it before, and he didn’t laugh. He instead earnestly wanted to know if John would like to make the idea a reality.
“…Really?”, he carefully asked, still terrified that the answer might’ve just changed had Frenchie reasoned with himself and come to the conclusion the rest of the world seemed to.
But instead, he promised,“ Really. Because I find you rather pretty and it’d please me if you saw yourself that way as well.”
That sentence sent more warmth to his heart than he’s ever felt before, but there was still a lifetime of cruelty he’d been taught… he can’t really imagine feeling pretty again now that he’s aged and grown so much.
“That’s a tall order,” he admits cautiously.
“Well, while I’m not sure I could make a very nice dress for you, still getting a hang of the sewing thing, I think if we found the right person for the job…” Frenchie paused as he leaned right up to John’s pierced ear and whispered,” You’d look so absolutely lovely, you’d be forced to say so yourself.”
And with that, Wee John couldn’t keep back the shy smile that’d been tugging at his cheeks,“ That sounds… lovely.”
Frenchie drifted further in and kissed him again, but this time it was better. Less chaste, less avoidant, less closed. This kiss was more open, more trusting. It was more comfortable. Frenchie slowly ran his hand down from John’s shoulder, over his back, just ever so carefully doting on the rolls of flesh there before it came to rest on his hip. And John didn’t wince under his lips this time. With his other, he laid it on his chest and slowly moved across his collarbone as he maneuvered over himself. In no time at all, he was sitting atop John’s lap - right where he thought he belonged, he might add - when John pulled their kiss apart.
But it was no action of fear this time, instead, he drew on a mischievous grin and asked,” So, about my rear?”
Frenchie laughed himself before answering,“ Of course, darling, let’s return to such a fine subject matter, indeed.”
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lila-lou · 1 month
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✨ His only exception - Pt. 19/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 6456
A/N: This is part 19 of “His only exeption”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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Despite the misunderstandings and the roughness of last night, Ben's touch brought a strange sense of comfort. You found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions as his hand rested on your thigh.
Despite the pain, both physical and emotional, there was an undeniable connection between you two, one that transcended words and actions. In that moment, you were torn between anger and longing, frustration and desire.
As you sat in silence, his touch serving as a silent apology, you wondered what the future held for you, whether you would ever find a way to bridge the gap between you or if you were destined to remain caught in this endless cycle of misunderstanding and pain.
Ben leaned forward slightly, his voice low as he addressed the group. "When are we going after Homelander?", he asked, his tone betraying the simmering intensity beneath his words.
Butcher turned to Ben, delivering the news. "The mission's set for tomorrow", he informed, his tone serious. Then, his gaze shifted to you. "Ben, today's all about training (Y/N). Tomorrow, she'll be at home, and she needs to be prepared for anything".
You glanced at Ben. You knew training with him would be intense, but you also trusted him to prepare you as best as he could for whatever lay ahead.
"Why do I have to sit back and be left out?", you questioned, your frustration bubbling to the surface.
Ben shot you an angry look, his jaw clenched with annoyance. "Because you're not ready to handle what's coming", he retorted sharply.
Butcher's expression darkened as he chimed in, his tone firm. "You need to sit down and listen, (Y/N). And you need to properly trained".
As Ben pulled away his hand, you couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation. It seemed like everyone was underestimating you.
"I can handle more than you think", you muttered defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Butcher sighed, shaking his head. "Look, (Y/N), this isn't about underestimating you", he explained, his tone softer. "It's about being prepared for whatever comes our way. We need to make sure you're ready".
You bit your lip, feeling a mixture of frustration and determination swirling inside you. Despite their doubts, you were determined to prove yourself.
Frenchie chimed in, his voice gentle yet firm. "He's right, (Y/N). We're not trying to sideline you. It's about safety. You'll be better protected at home".
You sighed, feeling a sense of resignation wash over you. "I get it", you conceded, though a part of you still longed to be in the thick of the action.
Butcher nodded in agreement. "Good. We'll make sure you have everything you need to hold down the fort while we're gone".
As the discussion continued, you couldn't shake the feeling of frustration at being left behind. But deep down, you knew they were right. Safety was paramount, especially in the face of someone as dangerous as Homelander.
Ben finished his food, pushing his chair back with a grating screech against the floor. He stood up abruptly, his eyes flicking towards you.
"Come on, princess", he called. "Time for you to learn how to handle yourself".
You rolled your eyes at his remark, but reluctantly followed him to the practice room, knowing that you needed all the training you could get, whether you liked his condescending attitude or not.
Annie's gaze followed Ben and you as you left the room, a furrow forming on her brow. She turned to Butcher, concern evident in her expression.
"Leaving her alone with him for training again?", Annie mumbled.
Butcher let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before responding to Annie's question.
"I don't know what the hell they've got going on between them, and frankly, I don't wanna know anymore", he admitted gruffly. "But if it means she's safer at home tomorrow, then yeah, it's the best option we got".
Hughie chimed in, his voice hesitant yet earnest. "I still think Soldier Boy's in love with her", he remarked, earning snorts from MM and Butcher.
"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England", MM retorted sarcastically, shaking his head in disbelief.
Butcher scoffed, echoing MM's sentiment. "Soldier Boy? In love? Give me a break", he remarked, his tone dismissive. "That guy's got ice in his veins".
Annie's gaze shifted from MM to Butcher, her expression thoughtful. "So, the plan to send Soldier Boy back to Russia after Homelander's taken down is still on?", she asked, seeking confirmation.
Butcher nodded grimly, his jaw set in determination. "Yeah, it's still on", he affirmed, his voice tinged with a hint of distrust. "I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. We just need him and Homelander out of the picture for good".
As you and Ben entered the practice room, he made a move to touch you, brushing his hand over your lower back and then grabbing your hips. However, you quickly blocked him, shooting him a glare filled with anger. Despite your resistance, Ben's touch lingered, his grip firm as he attempted to assert his dominance.
"Let go of me, Ben", you demanded, your voice sharp with frustration.
"Why?" Ben retorted, his tone challenging as he tightened his grip on your hips.
You faced Ben squarely, your eyes narrowed with a mix of anger and hurt. "What was going on with you yesterday, especially last night?", you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. "You can't just handle me like I'm some kind of object, Ben. It's not right".
Ben's expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he met your gaze. "I don't owe you an explanation", he retorted sharply, his tone tinged with defensiveness. "You don't get to tell me how to treat you".
You bristled at his dismissive response, your frustration mounting. "I'm not just some plaything for you to use whenever you feel like it", you shot back, your voice tinged with anger. "I deserve respect, Ben. And if you can't give me that, then maybe we shouldn't be doing this at all".
Ben released his grip on your hips, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at you with a mix of irritation and defiance. "And what exactly do you think we're doing here?", he asked. “Holding your hand through everything?”.
His words stung, a sharp pang of hurt shooting through you. “That’s just cruel, Ben”, you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion.
Ben let out an exasperated sigh, his irritation palpable. "Calm down, (Y/N)", he said tersely, his tone edged with annoyance.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions despite the turmoil swirling inside you. "I can't just calm down", you retorted, your voice tinged with frustration. "I'm still in pain from how you handled me last night, and you didn't even have the decency to apologize".
Ben's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he met your eyes. "I don't have time for this", he muttered, his voice low and gruff. "We've got work to do".
Ben pushed you back slightly, his movements firm as he directed you towards the practice area. You stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden assertiveness.
"We'll talk about this later", he said dismissively.
You frowned, frustration bubbling up inside you. "No, Ben, we need to talk about this now", you insisted. "I won't just brush this under the rug like it never happened".
But Ben remained unmoved, his expression stoic as he gestured for you to start the training session. The tension between you hung thick in the air, unresolved and simmering beneath the surface.
As you began the training session, the atmosphere was tense, each movement charged with unspoken resentment and frustration.
“I can’t believe you’re just brushing this off”, you muttered under your breath, your voice barely audible over the sound of your footsteps.
Ben shot you a sharp look, his eyes flashing with irritation. “I said we’ll talk about it later”, he snapped.
You clenched your jaw, frustration boiling inside you. “Fine”, you bit out.
As you did some exercises to warm up, the tension between you and Ben lingered in the air like an invisible barrier. You focused on your pushups, trying to block out the turmoil swirling inside you.
Suddenly, you felt Ben's large, heavy hand on your lower back as he squatted down beside you. The pressure of his touch only added to the weight of the unresolved tension between you.
You struggled to maintain your composure, the pressure of his presence making it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.
"Ben, please", you pleaded quietly, your voice strained.
He grumbled something incoherent under his breath. "Your weak-ass spaghetti arms aren't gonna get any stronger if you keep whining", he retorted.
You bit back a retort, feeling a surge of frustration and helplessness wash over you. Despite your best efforts to focus, the tension between you and Ben made it nearly impossible to concentrate on the exercise.
As you struggled through the exercise, Ben's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Come on, (Y/N), give it all you've got", he urged, his tone firm and unwavering. "I'm not going easy on you today. I need you stronger, so you never end up in the same position you were with Homelander ever again".
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the danger you faced and the need to be prepared for anything. Despite the pain and frustration, you pushed yourself harder, determined to prove yourself and become stronger, both physically and mentally.
After an intense warm-up, you stood there, panting, your hands on your waist as you looked up at Ben, who grinned down at you.
"Now that's more like it", he said. "And hey, looks like I found a way to shut you up".
You shot him a defiant glare, holding up your middle finger in response to his teasing.
Ben chuckled, unfazed by your gesture. "Feisty, huh?, he remarked with a smirk. "I gotta say, I love that ass of yours in those little shorts".
You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at his comment. "Can we focus on the training, please?", you quipped, eager to redirect the conversation away from his flirtatious remarks.
Ben grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, we'll definitely be focusing on something", he replied with a suggestive tone, earning an exasperated groan from you.
As you continued training, the intensity of the workout gradually increased, the air filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional thud of impact as you practiced boxing.
Ben stood before you, his arms crossed, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he watched you throw punches with determination.
"Come on, (Y/N), show me what you've got", he teased. "I'm not seeing enough fire in those punches".
You gritted your teeth, shooting him a determined glare as you redoubled your efforts, fists flying faster as you focused on the target before you.
Ben chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he observed your efforts. "That's it, let it all out", he encouraged, his tone laced with playful mockery.
As you kept punching against his stomach and arms, Ben stood his ground, his expression a mix of amusement and mild discomfort as he absorbed the impact of your blows.
"Easy there, tiger", he teased, his voice laced with amusement. "I'm not made of steel, you know".
You shot him a playful smirk, a glint of determination in your eyes as you continued your assault. "Just making sure you're still awake", you retorted, your voice filled with mock seriousness.
Ben chuckled, his laughter mingling with the sound of your punches. "Well, I certainly won't be falling asleep anytime soon with you around", he quipped.
As you continued to punch, Ben gently caught both of your fists, bringing your flurry of blows to a halt. "Good job", he praised, a hint of pride in his voice as he looked at you.
Before you could respond, he leaned in and planted a quick peck on your lips.
"Alright, let's switch it up", he said, releasing your fists and stepping back slightly. "Time for some crunches".
As the grueling workout stretched on for over three hours, you found yourself becoming a panting mess, your muscles burning with exertion. Finally, unable to push yourself any further, you collapsed to the ground, your eyes closed as you struggled to catch your breath.
Ben knelt down beside you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he observed your exhausted state. "Looks like someone's hit their limit", he teased playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shot him a pissed glare, too tired to muster a response as you focused on regulating your breathing.
Ben pulled you up effortlessly with his strong arm, your body instinctively leaning against his chest for support. As you looked up at him, feeling slightly weak-kneed from the exertion of the workout and the intoxicating scent of his cologne, he met your gaze with a playful smirk.
"You look hot all sweaty like that", he remarked, his tone laced with amusement as he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. "Almost makes me want to put you through another round".
You rolled your eyes at his comment and pushed against his chest gently, creating a bit of space between the two of you. Meeting his gaze, you took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to address the tension that had been brewing between you.
"Ben, we really need to talk", you said, your voice firm yet tinged with vulnerability. "About last night, about everything".
Ben let out a sigh of annoyance, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered your request. “Can’t this wait?”, he grumbled, his tone edged with frustration.
You held his gaze. “No, Ben”, you insisted, your voice steady. “We need to talk about this now”.
He hesitated for a moment. “Fine”, he relented, his tone more serious now. “But let’s do it under the shower. I don’t want anyone overhearing us”.
You raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism coloring your expression. "Just so no one overhears us?", you repeated, your tone laced with sarcasm.
Ben smirked in response, his lips twisting into a playful grin. "Hey, you never know who might be eavesdropping", he quipped.
"Alright", you rolled your eyes, conceding to his suggestion as you headed towards the bathroom together.
As you peeled out of your sweaty clothes, tossing them into the hamper, you felt Ben's eyes on you, his gaze lingering on your figure as you moved.
"You know, you look even better out of those clothes", he remarked, his tone low and husky as he leaned against the sink, watching you with undisguised appreciation.
You couldn't help but blush at his comment, feeling a rush of warmth spreading through you despite the coolness of the room. "Flattery will get you nowhere", you mumbled, shooting him a playful grin as you stepped into the shower.
As Ben quickly shed his clothes and joined you in the shower, he wrapped both arms around your torso, pulling you tightly against his chest from behind.
“You’re tense”, he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he pressed his lips to your ear. “Let me help you relax”.
You leaned back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you as his strong arms encircled you.
You closed your eyes, relishing in the warmth of Ben's embrace, but the weight of last night's events lingered heavily on your mind.
"Ben", you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need to talk about last night".
Ben's arms around you tightened slightly, a silent indication for you to continue.
"I… I need to know why you didn't stop when I asked you to", you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "It hurt, Ben, and I felt like you weren't listening to me".
You felt Ben tense behind you, his silence weighing heavily in the steamy air of the shower.
Ben's grip loosened, and you felt him shift uncomfortably behind you. His silence spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the pain he had caused you. As the water cascaded down around you, he began to speak, his voice tinged with regret.
He struggled to find the right words. "I messed up, I know that", he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I should have listened to you, respected your boundaries. I don't want you to ever feel like I'm not hearing you".
You felt a pang of sadness mingled with a glimmer of hope at his words. Despite the pain of the previous night, there was a flicker of understanding.
Without turning to face him, you reached out and placed your hand over his.
As the water continued to wash away the remnants of the past, you both stood in silence, wrapped in the warmth of newfound understanding and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
Ben's lips brushed gently against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his hands roamed over your breasts with a tender reverence. Despite the lingering ache of the previous night, his touch ignited a familiar fire within you, a primal desire that pulsed with every beat of your heart.
You leaned into his embrace, surrendering to the sensation of his lips trailing a path of warmth along your shoulder, his touch a silent apology, a wordless plea for forgiveness.
You whispered softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower, "I can't, Ben. I'm still too sore".
Ben's movements stilled. "I know", he murmured, his voice. "I just want to feel you, to be close to you".
His words resonated with a tenderness that touched your heart, and despite the ache in your body, you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving the closeness and intimacy that only he could provide.
As the water turned off, signaling the end of your shower, Ben stepped out first, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. You followed suit, reaching for your pajamas, but before you could slip them on, Ben stopped you.
With a playful grin, he pulled his shirt over your head, the fabric enveloping you in his scent and warmth. "That's more of my taste", he teased, his eyes twinkling as he admired you wearing his shirt.
You couldn't help but chuckle.
As you walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in Ben’s shirt, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you.
Just as you reached the bedroom door, Ben’s voice, soft and tender, broke the silence. “Hey”, he whispered, his hand gently grazing your arm to get your attention.
You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. “What is it?”.
“I want you to sleep in my bed tonight”, he murmured, his eyes earnest.
You blinked in surprise at Ben's request, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Yet, a warm smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a mixture of appreciation and affection for his gesture.
"Sure", you replied softly, a gentle warmth spreading through your chest. "I'd like that".
As you followed Ben into the room, you felt a flutter dancing in your chest. But as he let himself sink onto the bed, you weren't expecting him to suddenly pull you onto his lap with a firm grip on your wrists.
Your surprise was evident in the widening of your eyes and the sharp intake of breath as you found yourself straddling him, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Ben", you murmured, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady yourself against his chest.
Ben's lips met yours in a slow and intense kiss, igniting a fiery passion that seemed to consume both of you. As his mouth moved against yours with a fervent urgency, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins, the heat of his touch sending shivers down your spine.
Despite the surprise of his sudden actions, you found yourself melting into his embrace, surrendering to the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours. His grip on your wrists loosened, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, the world outside fading into oblivion as you and Ben became entangled in each other's embrace. His touch was both tender and possessive, a silent declaration of his desire to hold you close and never let go.
As you pulled away from the kiss, a faint smile lingering on your lips, you gazed into Ben's eyes, searching for any hint of what he might be thinking. His expression was a mix of desire and something else, a hint of possessiveness that sent a thrill down your spine.
As Ben's lips trailed down your jawline, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. His touch was electric, igniting a primal need that burned within you.
"I can't stop thinking about you", he murmured against your collarbone, his voice thick with longing. "You drive me crazy, you know that?".
"Ben…", you mumbled.
But before you could utter another word, he continued, his voice low and filled with a raw intensity that made your blood run cold.
"I couldn't even stop thinking about you when I fucked that little slut yesterday", he muttered.
Your heart skipped a beat as Ben's words washed over you, a whirlwind of emotions raging within you. With a shaky breath, you pulled back slightly, your mind struggling to process the magnitude of his confession.
"What?", you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, the word hanging heavy in the air between you.
Ben's gaze softened momentarily, a flicker of frustration crossing his features before he continued.
"Yeah, it's fucking insane", he mumbled, his words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "It's like you're always on my mind, even when I try to forget".
Your heart ached at his admission, torn between the pain of betrayal and the lingering affection you still held for him.
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as the weight of Ben’s words bore down on you like a heavy burden. With a trembling hand, you pushed his hands away from your body, needing to create some distance between you.
“Are you serious?”, you choked out, your voice wavering with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “Did you really… sleep with someone else?”.
Ben’s brow furrowed in confusion at your question, his expression betraying his lack of understanding. “What’s wrong?”, he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and bewilderment.
Tears continued to well up in your eyes as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your pain. “I can’t believe you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “After everything…”.
But before you could finish your sentence, Ben cut in, his tone laced with a hint of defensiveness. “It’s not about the fucking part”, he snapped. “It’s about how I couldn’t get you out of my head”.
Feeling a mixture of anger, hurt, and betrayal swirling inside you, you couldn't bear to remain in Ben's embrace any longer. With a shaky breath, you gently pushed yourself up from his lap.
"I need some space", you choked out, your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to contain the flood of tears threatening to spill over.
"Why are you mad?", he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "I told you because I wanted you to understand how much you're on my mind".
"I thought we had something special", you mumbled through choked sobs, the words barely audible as tears streamed down your cheeks.
Ben rolled his eyes, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone. "Oh, come on", he scoffed. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not like you're the only one I've ever slept with".
"I just thought…", you started, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words.
But Ben cut you off, his frustration boiling over. "Look, if you weren't fucking special to me, do you think I would fucking treat you like a raw egg every fucking time?", he snapped, his tone tinged with bitterness.
Your heart clenched at Ben's callous words, his dismissive attitude cutting deep into your already wounded soul. Anger surged within you, fueled by the sting of betrayal and the sheer audacity of his arrogance.
"If I were special to you, you wouldn't have slept with anyone else!", you shot back, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and indignation. "You can't just treat me like some disposable object and expect me to be okay with it!".
But Ben's frustration only seemed to escalate. "I did it so I wouldn´t fucking hurt you!", he retorted, his tone defensive. "I need to get rid of that tension sometimes, and you can't handle it because you're just a fucking human!".
“You’re acting like you’re my girlfriend, like you’re in love with me or something”, Ben continued.
Your heart skipped a beat, a sharp pain shooting through your chest as Ben's words pierced through you like daggers. More tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as his callous remark hit you square in the chest.
In the wake of his harsh words, you felt a surge of anger rising within you, fueled by the hurt and betrayal you felt. With a trembling voice, you whispered, "Fucking asshole".
Without another word, you stormed out of his room.
Ben raised his arms in disbelief, his brow furrowed in confusion as he watched you storm out of his room. He couldn't understand why you were reacting this way, why you couldn't just accept his explanation and move on.
But as he stood there, his frustration mounting, he realized that there was no reasoning with you in your current state. With a heavy sigh, he let you go, pushing the door shut loudly behind you before trudging back to bed, annoyance simmering beneath the surface.
As he lay there in the darkness, the echoes of your departure still ringing in his ears, Ben couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. Despite his attempts to justify his actions, a nagging sense of guilt lingered in the back of his mind—a reminder of the pain he had caused you and the fragile trust he had shattered.
Meanwhile, you lay in your own bed, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried like a lovesick teenager. Your heart ached with the realization that you were not enough for Ben, and perhaps never would be as long as you remained just a human.
In the darkness of your room, Ben's words echoed in your mind, weighing heavily on your spirits. You couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy, wondering if you could ever measure up to the Supes who seemed to capture Ben's attention so effortlessly.
It hit you hard: you were in love with Ben. Admitting it to yourself only made you cry even more.
The thought of loving someone who didn't seem to see you the same way filled you with an overwhelming sense of despair. You felt powerless, trapped in a whirlwind of emotions you couldn't control.
As Ben lay in his own bed, the sound of your crying echoing in the stillness of the night, he found himself unable to sleep. His Supe hearing picked up every tear-soaked sob.
He still didn't quite understand your reaction, unable to comprehend why his words had hurt you so deeply.
For him, what he had said about not being able to get you out of his mind, even while being with that Supe, was meant to be an explanation of his feelings for you. It was his twisted way of expressing how much he liked you, how much you consumed his thoughts and his heart.
But as he listened to the sound of your tears, Ben couldn't help but wonder if he had missed the mark entirely. Had his attempt at honesty only succeeded in pushing you further away?
In the darkness of his room, Ben's thoughts churned with uncertainty and doubt. He knew he had a lot to learn about love and relationships, especially when it came to understanding your feelings.
But for now, all he could do was lie there, listening to the echoes of your pain, and wishing he knew how to make things right.
It wasn't until 3 in the night that Ben finally mustered the courage to leave his own bed. With each step, he tiptoed carefully, mindful of not disturbing your slumber. As he approached your room, a sense of trepidation washed over him, unsure of what he would find.
Gently pushing open the door, Ben slipped inside, the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across the room. His eyes immediately found you, curled up in bed, your tear-streaked face peaceful in sleep.
For a moment, he simply stood there, watching you, his heart heavy. He had never meant to hurt you, never meant to cause you such pain. And yet he constantly brought you so much pain.
In that moment, as he gazed upon your sleeping form, he realized just how deeply he cared for you.
Ben harbored a tender affection for you, one that he had been too blind to see until now. As he watched you sleep, a wave of tenderness washed over him, filling him with a longing he couldn't quite name.
In the quiet of the night, with only the sound of your steady breathing to break the silence, Ben made a silent vow to himself. He would do whatever it took to make things right.
With a soft sigh, he leaned in closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with gentle fingers.
The next morning, you were abruptly awakened by the sound of voices drifting from the living room. Confused, you stumbled out of bed and made your way to join Annie, Ben, and Butcher, who were engaged in a heated debate about how to proceed with the attack on Homelander, despite having already discussed the plan yesterday.
Annie's frustration was evident as she argued, "We've been over this already. We can't afford to deviate from the plan now. We need to stick to the strategy we agreed upon".
But Ben's determination was unwavering as he countered, "I don't care about the fucking plan. We need to take out Homelander once and for all. Killing him is the only way to ensure the safety of everyone".
Butcher interjected, "We can't risk a direct confrontation with Homelander. We need to focus on capturing him alive so we can use him as leverage against Vought".
Ben's voice rose in frustration as he continued to argue his point, his passion fueling his determination to see Homelander pay for the pain he had caused. "You don't fucking get it", he yelled, his voice raw with emotion. "Homelander hurt her, and he needs to fucking pay for it. We can't let him get away with what he's done".
But as the intensity of the debate reached its peak, the sound of footsteps drew everyone's attention. Turning, they saw you standing there, your expression worn and weary. Your heart clenched at the sight of Ben, the raw emotion in his eyes mirroring your own pain.
With arms crossed, you made your way towards Frenchie and MM, who sat at the table, working on their weapons.
Taking a deep breath, you joined Frenchie and MM at the table, ready to discuss your role in the upcoming mission. Frenchie wasted no time in pulling out his laptop, tapping away as he brought up the surveillance feeds and blueprints of Vought's facilities.
"We need to gather as much intel as possible", Frenchie explained, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "We'll use the cameras to track Homelander's movements and identify any vulnerabilities in their security".
MM nodded in agreement, his gaze focused on the screen. "Once we have a clear picture of their defenses, we can plan our approach accordingly", he added, his voice steady and resolute.
As you studied the images on the screen, a sense of determination filled you.
But as you delved deeper into the details of the mission, you couldn't shake the feeling of Ben's eyes burning into your back. His silent presence served as a constant reminder of the complicated emotions swirling between you, a mixture of pain, longing, and unresolved tension.
With a heavy heart, you pushed aside your feelings for Ben and focused on the task at hand.
As the discussion continued, Butcher's patience wore thin. He slammed his hand on the table, glaring at Ben with a fierce intensity. "Will you bloody well stick to the plan, or are you gonna go off half-cocked like some bloody lunatic?".
Ben's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he bristled at Butcher's accusation. "Watch your fucking tongue, Butcher", he snapped, his voice dripping with barely contained anger. "I know what I'm doing, and I won't let you or anyone else stand in the way of getting fucking justice for her".
Butcher scoffed, his expression unyielding. "Justice ain't worth a damn if it gets us all killed", he retorted, his tone sharp and unforgiving. "We stick to the plan, whether you like it or not".
The tension in the room was palpable as the two men locked eyes, each refusing to back down. It was clear that their conflicting ideologies would continue to clash, each determined to see their own vision through to the end.
Two hours later, you found yourself settled in front of Frenchie's laptop, your eyes focused on the surveillance feed from Vought's cameras. The tension in the room was palpable as everyone gathered in the living room, preparing for the mission ahead.
Just as you were about to immerse yourself in the task at hand, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Turning, you saw Ben entering the room, his presence commanding attention as he joined the group, just closing his belt.
Your knees weakened at the sight of him in his Supe suit, the fabric hugging his powerful frame in all the right places. It had been a while since you had seen him in full uniform, and the sight of him now sent a rush of longing coursing through your veins.
Despite the gravity of the situation, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, captivated by his strength and determination.
As Ben's gaze met yours, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the weight of the world faded away as you locked eyes with him.
In that instant, a flood of emotions washed over you—longing, desire, and aching heartache all mingled together in a tumultuous whirlwind of sensation. His powerful presence filled the room, commanding attention and igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.
Your heartbeat quickened, your pulse racing as you felt a surge of primal attraction coursing through your veins. Despite the pain and uncertainty that had plagued your relationship, there was no denying the raw magnetism between you and Ben.
As the team gathered their weapons, Ben stood there, his gaze fixed on you. There was a palpable tension in the air, a silent exchange of emotions between the two of you that spoke volumes.
Both of you wanted to say something, to break the silence that hung heavy between you, but neither of you dared to speak. It was as if the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings kept you rooted in place, unable to move forward.
You could feel the intensity of his gaze, a mixture of longing and regret that mirrored your own emotions but neither of you could find the words to express what you were feeling.
Instead, you sat there in silence.
Ben took two steps towards you, his mouth opening as if he were about to speak, but you shook your head, cutting him off before any words could escape. He sighed, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident in his expression.
Another tense minute passed before Butcher broke the silence with a gruff, "Let's go".
Ben cast one final glance in your direction, a silent apology lingering in his eyes. "I´m Sorry", he muttered softly before turning to leave with the rest of the team, leaving you alone in the apartment.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the weight of his apology hung heavy in the air.
It was a simple word, "sorry", but coming from him, it held a weight you had never experienced before. It was the first time he had ever said sorry to you, and perhaps to anyone else, and it stirred something deep inside you.
Despite the hurt, his apology sparked a glimmer of hope within you. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the complexity of his emotions.
In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a shift in the air, a subtle change in the dynamic between you and Ben. It was as if the walls that had divided you for so long were beginning to crumble, replaced by a tentative sense of understanding and forgiveness.
As you processed the significance of his apology, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a chance for the two of you to find common ground and move forward together. But for now, all you could do was wait.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 20
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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles @sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl @emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444 @seasonofthenerd @staple-your-mouth @artemys-ackles @selfdestructionandrhum @mystic-mara
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ladyluscinia · 2 years
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Who are all of these people who are drowning in pro-Izzy content to the exclusion of all other characters and have they been in a fandom that actually has a ridiculous overrepresentation of some shitty guy? I see posts like this:
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And the problem sounds a lot more like they are objecting to any Izzy content. Because I certainly can't find this overwhelming dominance. So fine. Let's see how popular Izzy is...
There are 12072 OFMD works on AO3 as I type this.
"Israel Hands" is character tagged in 5393 of them. That's 44.7%. Lower than I would expect, seeing as that includes every fic where he's the choice of villain as well as simply present or a focus. 122 of those are tagged "Major Character Death" (out of 225 in the whole fandom), and I suspect that's undertagged by people who don't think Izzy's fate is that important.
Comparably we have Lucius at 3560 (29.5%), Jim at 2226 (18.4%), and Oluwande at 1935 (16%). Lower than Izzy, yeah, but how many of those Lucius fics have him tagged just to get violently killed off or verbally wrecked and sent away for everyone else's happy ending? How many times does the crew show up untagged individually? I'm guessing the numbers of positive fics are probably a lot more equal... But let's see if we can look at this another way.
How about ships?
Izzy's ship fics are probably more likely to be pro-Izzy / significant content, yeah? So I'll break those down.
The most popular ship in the "Israel Hands" character tag is - to no one's surprise - BlackBonnet at 3183 (so 59% of "Israel Hands" character tagged fics, and 26.4% of all OFMD fics are tagged BlackBonnet + "Israel Hands"). I'd guess that number includes a lot of the "villain Izzy getting defeated" stories. Ships that actually have Izzy in them go:
Edward/Izzy at 1287 under "Israel Hands", 1374 (11.4%) total
Stede/Edward/Izzy at 762 under "Israel Hands", 812 (6.7%, probably with a good amount of BlackHands overlap) total
Stede/Izzy at 482 under "Israel Hands", 509 (4.2%, with overlap again) total
Izzy/Lucius at 477 under "Israel Hands", 514 (4.3%) total.
Lucius/Pete btw? 746 under "Israel Hands", 1188 (9.8%) total. Oluwande/Jim has 579 under "Israel Hands" and 1023 (8.5%) total. They both outrank every non-Edward/Izzy ship inside Izzy's tag, and are not far behind Edward/Izzy in total.
Another consideration I can attest to as a BlackHands reader... a lot of those Edward/Izzy fics are labeled "one sided" in various ways (which gets tag wrangled as the ship). 107 are just plain tagged "Unrequited Love". 94 have "One-Sided Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Israel Hands". Or they are toxic / abusive with a different ship endgame - BlackBonnet (tagged on 656 of them, with 389 as SteddyHands) or Izzy/Lucius (tagged on 70) or a negligible ship like Izzy/Frenchie or Izzy/Sam Bellamy.
These numbers are just NOT an overwhelming surge of fan attention. Izzy is not a third protagonist, no, but he's the most developed antagonist with easily 3rd or 4th most screentime / characterization. Having maybe 1/5 or less of the fandom content that you could call "focused" on him is not much or unusual or proof of bias 🙄 (the tag "Israel Hands-centric" is on 341 fics, or 2.8% of OFMD fics, "POV Israel Hands" on 176 so 1.5%, "Soft Israel Hands" on 107 or 0.9%... These are not big numbers).
Do people want to know where all that attention they think is owed to Jim or Lucius or Frenchie or Ivan and Fang is going?
8705 works tagged as BlackBonnet. That's 72.1% of all OFMD fics. Running the "otp: true" search for BlackBonnet ONLY fics pulls up 5764 results, so still 47.7%! Almost half of this fandom's content is ship fic that only covers the OTP without even tagged background ships.
"Blackbeard | Edward Teach" is character tagged in 9698 OFMD fics at 80.3% and "Stede Bonnet" is next in 8889 at 73.6%.
In the 1188 Lucius/Pete fics, BlackBonnet is tagged in 936 of them. That's 78.8% of all Lucius/Pete.
In the 1023 Oluwande/Jim fics, BlackBonnet is tagged in 788 of them. That's 77% of all Oluwande/Jim.
Those BlackBonnet numbers are insane. Fucking Destiel - the biggest ship on AO3, in a show insanely hostile to side characters - is tagged in 107526 fics of 268568 in the Supernatural fandom. That's 40%. You read that right. Less than half. Maybe some more recent tumblr darlings?
Catra / Adora from She-Ra hit 10248 out of 16141, so 63.5%. And they are canon.
Newer, but I've seen Dream / Hob Gadling surging and it's at roughly 500 (the tags need wrangling) out of 1743 in the Sandman (TV 2022), hitting 28.7%
Never watched The Owl House, but Amity Blight / Luz Noceda is the top ship at 7650 of 16277, so 47%. Pretty sure that one is canon too.
Stranger Things has 51424 works, with top ships Steve/Eddie at 10266 (20%) and Billy/Steve at 9046 (17.6%). Again, I don't watch, but I'm pretty sure these are a lot more accurate examples of minor character takeover ships, and Billy especially is the shitty white guy breakout with barely any screentime. Who has been dead for multiple seasons. And it's still beating Edward/Izzy's percentage significantly.
I'm sorry that your fave isn't getting the content you want. It sucks. But this supposed unfair focus on Izzy just does not exist at any level that would actually be impacting other character content.
Anyone complaining about it is not making a complaint about fandom bias grounded in reality.
And anyone who is proposing "solutions" for this lack of content (a questionable proposition already) better have the bulk of their list as "More BlackBonnet writers need to try branching out" or they are just making up reasons to complain about minor content focused on a character or ship they don't like.
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Live Blog/My thoughts scene for scene ish for OFMD S2 Episodes 1-3
FULL SPOILERS FOR S2 EPS 1-3. Including a post credit scene for Episode 3 that includes a teaser for the episodes 4-5 and discussing scenes we haven't seen from the trailer.
My long form stuff usually gets seen by people outside of my circle so before this long post I want to preface with this-
Hi! Izzy is my favorite character. As of right now I have written just under 240k words about this guy and spent most of my time in this fandom in Izzy spaces. If that is a problem for you, this might not be the read.
But I got fed a 5 star meal and already see this season is a love letter to the fans and I am here to appreciate it. 
Please be warned. I personally think this season should have a warning on it for how it handles suicide, suicidal ideation, substance use and relationship abuse. I will be going in depth on this but handle it with respect as someone whose lived shit like this.
My first watch was without subtitles and on a big old tv screen. I I decided to miss a few things my first watch, choosing to turn off subtitles, and get surprised by dialogue and delivery(as I tend to read ahead). This watch is to confirm lines, appreciate delivery, and more. 
I have not read any meta, and this is blind before I see how all my mutuals freak out!!!!
Lines that fucked me up will be bolded. Just know I want to write an essay about them, and would given the chance. (sorry for spelling errors I watched this twice + stayed up for an extra 10 hours😅)
EPISODE 1:
I liked the recap, but I don’t think it’s enough for casual viewers who watched it maybe once ALSO. That Edit of Izzy’s ‘namby-pamby crying for his boyfriend’ IMMEDIATELY into the Toe Scene got a laugh out of me, because OWW. How had we not thought of that? 
I LOVE THE DREAM SCENE. Izzy beating him fair and square, but still losing. The stab in the killing side? THE MELODRAMA. The way this confirms Stede sees Izzy as a ‘big bad’ he needs to defeat to ‘win’ Ed. Him having the most 1 dimensional view of both him, Ed, and Izzy. A view how Stede is still an idiot unable to see nuance in people. Izzy smiling? The way he mutters his last words> God I love Con O’Neill. Let’s watch him maybe die 8 separate times and call it a season. 
It also got a good laugh out of me. Did I predict that that it was a dream when the teaser came out? Yeah. Still funny as shit.
‘Can’t be worse than you moaning Ed, Oh Ed’ FUNNY AS SHIT. 
I liked the ‘customer service’ montage. Swede, you deserve all the love you get. You are in good hands.  I think Stede’s part of this episode was just to lighten the rest of it. Hello to an antagonist of this season, and narrative foil to Stede, Prince Ricky.
I know it doesn’t matter who did Ed’s back tattoo, but the irony of Ed trusting someone enough to get it done is just funny. 
(Wedding Scene) I SQUEALED WHEN WE GOT THE RETURN OF ED’S EVIL THEME. Also, calling his crew the devils ‘kids’ is so fucking funny. HELLO CLASSIC ROCK IVE NEVER HEARD OF??? Welcome to the OFMD playlist. I love the montage of ‘Ed is working everyone to death’. Izzy got to threaten an English sailor. I know he’s happy with that. 
Yes. The wedding thing was absolutely over the line. RIP Ivan, you will be missed. I can’t wait for Frenchie to break down, and congrats to all the people who wrote Frenchie as emotionally distant, you’ve won! 
THE WAY IZZY SOUNDS SO TIRED ‘Yeah. They got cake.’ ALSO. Did I miss the knife throwing scene?? Was that just for the trailer? I think it was in a past edit and they removed it.
‘Can’t do the job? Someone else will’ (Ed to Izzy)- Izzy felt that he mattered to Ed. This one line reframes their entire relationship. This fucks Izzy up. I theorize as the main reason Izzy never did anything was because Ed was his captain. But they were still friends. Close. Trusted partners.  But Izzy is still expendable. Even after all this time. He is nothing. Maybe he knows Ed is doing this so he rebels, and kills him, but maybe he doesn't. Izzy cares about loyalty... we'll see.
Yes. The Izzy scene hurts. But after watching Ep 2, this is nothing. 
‘It is your job to-to follow my fucking orders’ (Izzy to crew) THIS IS NOT HOW I THOUGHT THIS LINE WOULD BE USED. Because he knows. He knows he’s fucked, and he’s struggling to accept the fact that he’s looking down the loaded barrel. He knows that he can’t make these people listen to him, not any more. He’s alone, and now the one thing he can do(be Ed’s first mate) is about to be stripped from him. Hell, it already is.
Spanish Jackie. I love you. I love you so much. Extort those fuckers. Semi clean water and education is a big deal! Also, this season overall is a HUGE win for my fellow Pete fans. Funny bastard. 
I have thoughts about Prince boy, but they can wait until he does something.
Stede’s flaw has always been his naivety, habit of judging once and never really questioning it, and his ego. Prince is able to take advantage of it. I don’t trust him. I think he’s a spy. I also like thinking Spanish Jackie is collecting husbands to certain tasks like it’s Pokémon. Need a bartender? Customer service husband. The books? Math husband. New Swedish husband? Masseuse.
HI IZZY ED SCENE ----
‘Because it’s fuckin’ treasure.’ Izzy. Izzy I fucking love you. God. The way he stiffens up. Knowing them not following orders means he will lose a toe. Fucking god. 
This to me confirms that Ed really wants to get Izzy to kill him in in ep 1. He will tear down every good memory they have just to get Izzy to give in. He doesn’t care about their past, he just wants to die. Izzy is a convenient violent punching bag because he can’t leave. He knows fully well that this crew doesn’t listen, and blames Izzy for a fact he can’t change. It’s fucked that he's shoving Izzy into this corner but he doesn't think there will be consequences. 
Honestly. I think Izzy knows his partner is at this edge, but he can’t do anything. This is why he gets the guts to talk back. Both here and later in front of the crew(more in a second).
The ‘you know me better than anyone has ever known me’ (Izzy to Ed) line kills me. Because it’s honest. For the rest of these episodes Izzy is so fucking honest It hurts. He can’t lie. Not to himself, not anymore. Not to Edward or the crews. He can't take advantage of any situation, or turn the tables. All he has is his words. He knows this, and yet here he is. Facing this abuse, and trying, because he wants to fix it. But he knows he’s not enough to snap Ed out. 
‘I have love for you’ (Izzy to Ed in cabin)Present tense…fucking hell. Izzy tries to pull Ed out by showing his soft center, and we can tell from Ed’s dismissive reaction that he already knows all this. But Ed isn’t talking. Izzy can’t read minds, he wants to help. I know he felt adrenaline spring through him after the confession, and with loose lips, he says just the wrong thing. HI MICROEXPRESSIONS ON CON. FUCKING AHH
‘Hang on Ed- Captain.’ (Izzy to Ed as Ed is marching out to the crew)OW. OUCH. OOF??? IZZY PANICING???? Trying to stop this???
The look on Izzy’s face when Ed holds the gun to himself is not shocked. Hurt, and he immediately closes himself off, like he genuinely thinks Ed would do it.  That’s what hurts. Also, I don’t know if hes doing a high pitch voice to imitate Izzy, but that’s my view of it. 
‘PACK IT IN' (Screamed by Izzy to Ed) THATS MY MAN!!! Stand up to Ed being shitty! GOD. Frenchie’s little head shake. Trying to warn Izzy, to tell him no :((((. But Izzy doesn’t care. He knows he’s not got too long left, so he might as well chew Ed out, to say the things everyone is thinking but are too scared to say. God, the way Ed teases the answer in front of everyone. -Say his name and I will shoot- sitting right there in his eyes, and Izzy GRINS and he says ‘Stede fuckin’ Bonnet’ and that is finally enough of an excuse for Ed to shoot. 
Look at the way Ed nods his head as Izzy says it, not even letting Izzy finish before saying it. He's done. All the other performative versions of violence, of being Blackbeard he does, I see a reason to say 'he's doing this as self hurt' but Idk. It feels like he wanted to, and now he can. So he does. The way everyone reacts hurts me. The way Ed steps over him, the way Ed pushes Frenchie into Izzy’s job. 
I know many fans, and myself before the show aired, thought the leg shooting would be too much. In all honesty. This is how I’d want it written. This entire episode has showcased Edward’s grown resentment to his friend mixed with self destructive impulses. Some might view this as being too much, but given episode 2, this is such a big fucking moment I can’t even comprehend it right now. 
Do I think Izzy’s love confession pushed Ed to this panic- ESPECIALLY after his last confession ended in Stede running away? Maybe. But I think Ed was mentally in a place where he couldn’t react with anything BUT dread. Thus making the Stede call back even worse. But I don’t know. 
That’s one end of the spectrum of how this scene can be interpreted (Ed shooting Izzy’s leg felt unjustified/uncalled for at this point in the story) now lets turn it around (The ‘Izzy deserved it’ fuck heads)
Lets be 100% clear here. 
I view Izzy turning the crew to the English was a catylist, BUT not a cause for them getting captured. Stede was wanted for murder, and would have gotten caught eventually. Hell, the fact Blackbeard was on the ship in S1 was a lucky guess that Chauncy was happy to take advantage of, that IZZY HAD TO SIGN THE ACT OF GRACE to get Ed out of.  
Can Ed hold Izzy responsible instead of taking accountability for his own actions? Yes. This episode shows that’s basically how he sees it. But we as fans are basically shown 5 different ways to view Izzy as sympathetic here. 
Now: Moving back into the episode (after 500 words of that…damn)--------------
Ricky is so dumb…. I don’t know if I love it or not.
I love ‘Susan’ (Zheng Yi Sao) but have some thoughts. I enjoy her, the way she holds herself like Ed did in episode 3, drawing that parallel. That and her Izzy narrative mirror of a first mate. Also, I hope the Swede and Spanish Jackie have a lovely season. I love them so much. 
(Yes! I got to inform the family of the history of the Queen of Pirates. I love what I do. )
One of my favorite crew scenes: Jim and Fang failing to correctly remember the story. I LOVE IT. I agree Archie, Jim trying to help Fang feel better is so fucking GOOD. Mixing the legend of the Monkey’s paw and Pinochio while cleaning up Izzy’s blood is so fucking…much. 
Hi another song I have never heard of??? (The whistle one, you will be going to the Ed Izzy divorce playlist)
Ed is pulling a Stede. Running away from every problem forgetting they dont exist. The second something tries to change he snaps. It hurts looking at Frenchie clearly trying to balance his family and Edward’s lack of empathy. I fucking love this episode, and think it’s up there for my favorites. This is a trend that will continue. 
EPISODE TWO:
Maybe my favorite piece of writing in ages. Can I just say they are Fucking WILD to call the Izzy/Ed episode ‘Red Flags’????? BECAUSE DEAR GOD
I watched the recap. It’s like, 3 scenes of stede, with Izzy geting shot and the final scene of Zheng Yi Sao. 
Classical song in opening: Etude No. 1, Op, 25. Going into the writing playlist. 
Buttons sleeping with his feet up, maybe to be close to the sea?
Now. I am going to use this moment to discuss a large criticism I have. The cutaways to scenes from S1. Now, do they feel fast, and awkward, yes. Should the writers trust their audience to tie the call back together? Yes. But for a casual audience I think these scenes are VERY necessary if you haven’t watched the show. I think they should be taken out, but I get why they’re there. 
‘Run From Me’ by Timber timbre THIS IS A FUCKING ED/IZZY SONG IN THE SHOW?!?!??!. WE DID IT. WE GOT 1! I don’t see any way how you could tie this is Ed/Stede. A song about the fear of hurting others and needing to always push people away. After last episode??? I fucking… I teared up on rewatch, because FUCK. It’s a scene with Ed playing with the dolls, but Izzy’s presence is right THERE. 
OMG OMG OMG- A PIRATE SHIP IS USING THE BELLS SYSTEM TO KEEP TRACK OF SHIFTS????? (Kind of? Not really? She just rang a bell. But just give me this).
Wee john & Buttons, I love you. ‘YES QUEEN!’ I CACKLED! I love the mispronouncing ‘China’ gag. 
‘I decided to take a chance on you…because’ Because they’re allies. Stede taking ‘soft’ as a compliment gives me life. 
LUCIUS!!!!! I FUCKING LOVE THEM!!! THE ‘OH MY GOD’ CALLBACK!!! THE HAPPY CREW SONG RETURNING?? 
I love that Stede is immediately like-*the vibes are off. What happened to my boy.* as soon as he sees him
Can I also say, I love that when we transition over to the Revenge, we see it from the front, sailing into frame. It’s such a good shot. 
I love that Ed is obviously in a manic period, FUCK. WHAT IF HE WAS CRYING OVER KILLING IZZY??? He wouldn't…but other than that, I can’t see specifically what he was crying about. 
‘No more booze, no more drugs, and more importantly, no more Izzy’ WHEN I TELL YOU I GASPED WHEN IT WAS REVEALED IZZY WAS KILLED THE FIRST TIME. God. Not by Ed, because Ed would never, but by FRENCHIE. No wonder they had to edit ‘Stede’ over that in the trailer… 
‘The new first mate always kills the old first mate’ - Okay, this bugs me. It’s not that the first mate is killed because ‘it’s law’. First mates were usually picked by their captain, but the Captain was democratically chosen. The first mate is loyal to the captain, as that is their job. The reason the first mate was killed when replaced was because the new Captain feared the old first mate could start a mutiny, and use the friendships built against a new person in power-
OH SHIT. DOES THIS MEANS ED KNEW IZZY WOULD MUTINY???? SO HE ORDERED FRENCHIE TO KILL HIM??
HOLY FUCK! :0
EDWARD YOU CONNIVING LITTLE BASTARD!!!!!
Hi secret passage :) To all the authors who also wrote them as tiny little hallways in the walls, rip. How did no one notice an extra room.
IZZY!!!! MY BOI
God, Izzy just knowing he’s fucked, and wanting to die now before Ed finds out is so fucking GOOD. ‘We just had him asleep’ JIM he’s a 50 year old man fading in and out of sleep due to an infection, not a toddler. I love that Izzy is just…so done. He didn’t expect the crew to help him out 🙁
HELLO OTHER SCENE IN THIS EPISODE I DIDN’T EXPECT TO LOVE-
God. I think my problem with Lucius in fanon was that he was always treated like he was above it all. The therapist. The loving partner. The jokester. But he has actual depth and Nathan is a brillian actor.
Hi Buttons being a sea god. I love that I wrote him as being creature adjacent ages ago. Bro can read Chinese AND got a fun magical ability. I can’t wait for that to pay off. 
THE OTHER SCENE I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT. Pissed off Ed being so fucking cheery when confronting Frenchy is so unnerving. Ed isn’t dumb. He knows. He knows the moment he caught Frenchie with that box that he was helping keep Izzy alive but he needed it confirmed. Which Frenchie did. 
(This is the point where my bro woke up so I rewatched everything with him)
Dear god. CAN WE CLEAN IZZY? Bandage that leg? ANYTHING?
‘But he’s out dick’ (Jim to Archie about Izzy and why they want to keep him alive) FUCK YEAHHHH!!! I love it, but can we not do this in front of a passed out Izzy?
Oh, the way my gut dropped the first time I saw Ed on the stairway of the secret room. Keep that man away from him.
GOD THE WAY I FUCKING GROANED WHEN OLU MOVED THE SHIPS ON THAT MAP. I am so happy the show is portraying how a flagship of a fleet works!!!
Lucius smocking to relieve stress and sooth his anxiety. All that to not think about what's happened. THAT and Pete being the ‘softer’ partner, gives me life. 
Izzy/Ed scene in the hidden room.
HI IZZY! ‘Up in leg heaven’(Ed to Izzy) Does this line read like bad fic? Yes. Good think I write fic and think it's fucking hilarious.
I fucking CHERISH this scene- 
‘I dreamt you killed me.’ ‘good for you’ (Ed to Izzy, Izzy to Ed)I FUCKING LOVE YOU IZZY- you are so tired of Ed's shit. I would put the entirety of this scene and every micro expression from Izzy if I could. ALSO ‘Eddie????’’ WHY- FUCKING- THAT WAS A FANFIC LINE AND IT'S MAKING ME SAD :0.
We are so getting a flashback next episode, aren't we? Even if we don't I'm so satisfied seeing the past closeness hinted at in these 3 episodes.
‘Clean up your own mess I’ve been doing it my whole life.’ I fucking LOVE HIM!! Even when he's suffering through an infection he won't let Ed walk all over him. Then Ed gives him his gun. LITERALLY TELLING IZZY TO STILL CLEAN UP THE MESS. 
‘I loved you…best I could.’ OH FUCK> OH FUCK!!!!! How did I MISS THAT ON MY FIRST RUN? IZZY/ED CONFIRMED???? THE FUCK???? ED ADMITS THAT HE FUCKING LOVED HIM!!! FUCKING KILL ME. ALSO PAST TENSE! That better be because he thinks Izzy is dead and not that he doesn't love him anymore :((( 
I loved Stede mentoring Lucius in talking btw. 
‘Save the rest for Pete’ (Stede to Lucius) Aw. Stede can’t be the therapist. I also love that Pete got freaked out. It makes me happy. 
I love this whole pre-storm scene. The way we can see Ed adjusting the canon into the mast to blow it down. The general storm vibes. The tension. The way it reads like the fuckery scene in ep 4 with the storm. Ed being steps ahead. But instead of Ed doing something clever he's doing something self destructive.
‘Run From Me’ start playing in the background up again when Lucius' line about being broken and learning to cope. LEADING RIGHT INTO THE STORM SCENE- AHHHH.
The way JIM STOPS ARCHIE FROM FIGHTING. Literally replicating their arc from S1.
THE WAY IZZY SHOOTS ED TO PROTECT THE CREW FROM ED LITGHTING THE CANON WICK. THE FUCKING PAN UP REVEALING IZZY IS ALIVE AND *EMPTY*
‘YOU INDESTRUCTIBLE LITTLE FUCKER’ (Ed to Izzy) THESE TWO I SWEAR TO CHRIST!
GET ‘EM FANG! PROTECT IZZY
God I fucking love this episode. So fucking much. The fact Ed/Izzy divorce has multiple suicide attempts built in makes me feel things. I wouldn’t expect anything else. 
==============================================
EPISODE 3
‘I know, it’s been a day!’ (Zheng Yi Sao to Shadow guy)
I love the scene of her bargaining with the guy and think Zheng Yi Sao is going to build a pirate army to take over the Republic. She’s already taken over China. This is just for pride.
GOD I love the scene of Stede going through the ship. Mainly because it lets us see the hallway, and tells me more of the Ship's anatomy but that's not the point. 
I don't know how the Crew survived the storm, but DAMN. I'm so proud of all of them working together. We were all right to write fic like that.
Izzy just casually being devalued by Stede and how he just IMMEDIATELY looks to Frenchie. OW. FUCKING OW. Also the way Izzy said 'Bonnet' at the start of this scene makes me so happy. 
I ZONED OUT A BIT- FORGOT TO WRITE
Now we’re at the scene of Stede cleaning up the knives. Leading into Izzy and Stede bitching. I love this scene mirroring the one where Izzy tells Stede to ‘plumb the depths’. Because it’s a moment where Izzy tries to be honest to Stede, but it doesn’t work. I FUCKING LOVE THIS SCENE SO MUCH. Izzy holding his tongue just a bit trying to warn Stede. A person he is actively jealous of. Hell, he even takes accountability for his actions. He even tells Izzy a half truth that they didn’t kill Ed. 
IZZY IS FUCKING TRYING. BUT STEDE IS TOO STUBORN!!!! Why does Izzy always need to be the voice of reason, it’s bad for him :( He needs someone to treat him seriously. 
I love that Hornigold has all of Ed’s mannerisms from the start. That and all of Hornigolds memories are what Ed remembers about the things he hated about the man (the crab thing)
Is it sad that Ed is excited to live a normal life, but his gut(Hornigold) tells him not to be so naïve? Yeah. But I’m mad at him, so give me a day. 
I love Izzy in the jail scene. ALSO WHY IS FRENCHY LEANING THAT CLOSE TO IZZY-HELLO?? Izzy crying, closing his eyes. Not able to keep Ed safe because he still tried SO HARD to keep his body semi stable. They think he’s probably dead, and Izzy still keeps his corpse safe. EVEN AFTER ANYTHING. HE STILL LOVES HIM! :D D:
This is where the Pirate Queen isn’t fun anymore for me. I liked her, but then she threatened Olu if he said no?? I don’t like it! Especially as it seems Olu didn't get the hint.
The escape overall is very fucking sweet. Especially Izzy shushing people. I makes me happy :)- Also Buttons being a good first mate and giving orders as soon as they touch deck.  
I’M SORRY- IZZY THNAKING STEDE I saw it the first time, and freaked out, but the second?? DEAR GOD! I fucking love him. Give this man a hug. 
Also! I think the Mermaid scene is my 'Ohh Daddy' from S1. It’s a bit.. .much, I like the metaphor a lot. Eh. I don't know. I think they should have blured out Stede's face a bit with water. Reveal it's REALLY Stede when he gets closer. Hide the budget a but more or do a far away shot vs up close. Pretty but just a bit off.
ALSO: IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE Ep 3 POST CREDIT SCENE DO-AS I’M SPOILING IT. As a person who is writing a ‘cured object’ thing for this fandom… watch this undo like, 40k of my own words. Please let Izzy be a bit of a skeptic but he generally follows the vibes cause ‘legends’ ALSO murder lesbians!! ALSO IZZY/STEDE woops, sorry, IZZY & STEDE FRIENDSHIP ARC!!!
SO FINAL THOUGHTS: 
Things I didn’t like:
Dislike how we glosses over the discussion of a poly/open relationship for Oluwande and Jim. They both thought eachother were dead, so it doesn’t give me the ick as I bet some will. But the way Jim joked about it still felt wrong.
Glossing over Lucius’ trauma a bit with the puppet joke. I found it a bit in poor taste. 
The fact Izzy is on the episode ‘cover’ for episode 3 on Max, revealing he didn’t kill himself in ep2. I forgot about it midway in, but remembered it on rewatch. Like? IDK
The lack of content warnings, I get it, but damn the suicidal ideation stuff +mania episode+ abuse hit hard. 
It went by a bit quick, but they wrote themselves in a corner. The slow building dread of Ed being a dick, vs Stede just working at Jackie's to get money. So they started when everything was falling apart. AND they need to get The Queen and the Prince established. Judging by the next few episodes, hopefully it will slow down. I prefer this to skipping those things, obviously. But I was much more interested in Ed’s side of the story than Stede's.
Things I do like/Standouts:
Hi Con O’Neill. Can you start paying rent the way you live in my head? Seriously, every scene Izzy is in he steals it. I assume people are a bit peeved that Izzy is getting more attention than Olu&Frenchie&Jim & whatever other character a person likes. But I really think they sewed it in well. Seriously, it’s heartbreaking, and everything I could have asked for. I Love Every Delivery. I see these episodes as enough to turn people slightly sympathetic if they were haters of Izzy before.
ALSO: IZZY SAVING THE CREW. Putting himself in danger FIRST so he doesn't hurt anyone? Jim immediately seeing this and trusting him in the future. I can’t wait to see friendship bloom between him and the crew. That and Izzy's own self destructive habits get broken down as he learns to respect himself outside of hierarchy and Ed. Yes, even like this I want to fuck that man.
Stede- I enjoy that he seems more comfortable with the crew. Especially Pete and Buttons. I don’t have much to say, but I hope this new Izzy training episode means he’ll learn to trust Izzy. Not too much to say, but that's a good thing! Here soon instead of Ed being the focus of the 'deal with this' stick it will go to Stede 'I'm the captain :(' Bonnet
BUTTONS OH MY GOD- My favorite head canon became canon babes!!! I love it. I’m here for it. He's having a lovely time.
ALSO FRENCHIE!!! Hi babes! I missed you being a clever badass! I'm happy Ed didn't stab you.
Them taking Ed’s issues seriously. We got hints of addiction/abusive behavior last season, but they took that and ran with it. Add that to self destrictive behavior that scales up with every scene. Plus the one line from Lucius about how some people can’t be fixed…good stuff, I like how we're handling mental health. I’m not happy with him, but we have time. Taika clearly had fun. I also see myself in his mania and self-sabotaging behavior (non violent, but still wish washy moods for my part)
That and Izzy/Ed being what it is… I believe that Ed genuinely loves Izzy the only way he can, but it’s not enough. He can’t love Izzy the way he needs. Ed needs to apologize, obviously. I won’t be able to forgive him ‘till then. I don’t think Izzy should until he’s able to pull away from him a bit. 
Let's just say I can't wait till next week when we get lesbians and one of my favorite tropes.
(@ing mutuals I know have seen it that I would love to yell with @gydima @born-on-a-beach-teach @treesofgreen BUT do feel free to shout down below!!!)
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jotun-philosopher · 4 months
Text
Good Omens/The Scarlet Pimpernel parallels (and what they might mean for s3)
We seek him here, we seek him there Those Frenchies seek him everywhere Is he in Heaven? Is he in Hell? That demmed elusive Pimpernel!
Some time back, Neil Gaiman answered an ask about Good Omens/Scarlet Pimpernel parallels in the French Revolution scene in s1e3 and whether they were intentional -- I can't find the post itself because tumblr's search function is stupidly broken (I'm starting to think I might have hallucinated it...), but I clearly recall that the reply was, "If anyone in Good Omens parallels Sir Percy Blakeney, it's Aziraphale." (or words to that effect)
Now, Neil Gaiman is an absolute master at answering questions in a way that seems all fine at first, but then you realise he hasn't really answered the question at all, in a way that forces you to think about the subject for yourself -- and the reply to which I allude above is a classic of the genre! It certainly got me very curious about the original novel (my only prior encounter with the story having been a production of the musical at the Minack in 2007), and once I got to read it for myself, the ideas they were a-flowin' ^_^ I have Thoughts about how all this might play into Season 3...
Spoilers for The Scarlet Pimpernel below the cut -- the novel might be over 100 years old, but that doesn't mean I can assume that everyone's going to be familiar with it (read it for free at Project Gutenberg here, and become one of today's lucky 10,000!). Also be aware of some minor spoilers for the Sandman arc 'The Kindly Ones'.
To start with, if we take at face value Neil's assertion that Aziraphale parallels Sir Percy Blakeney (who, like Azzy, conceals a deep well of steely badassery and daring ingenuity under outward foppishness -- though with Sir Percy it's much more of a studied and deliberate facade), then it seems fairly reasonable to assume that Crowley roughly parallels Marguerite Blakeney (nee St-Just) and the Metatrash (may he tread on Lego and d4s for all eternity) parallels that accredited agent of the Revolutionary government, Monsieur Shovellin' Chauvelin.
As a recap, the basic plot of The Scarlet Pimpernel runs thus:
The French Revolution is a-raging and many sacres aristos are having fatal meetings with Madame Guillotine, but many more are being rescued in daring and inexplicable ways by a mysterious individual whose calling-card is the image of a small red flower -- a scarlet pimpernel; meanwhile, to the general bewilderment of High Society, Marguerite St-Just (widely considered the most intelligent woman in Europe) has married the notoriously brainless fop Sir Percy Blakeney.
There is a certain degree of coldness and emotional estrangement between them, because Marguerite was tangentially involved in getting the Marquis de Saint-Cyr and his family guillotined (though the circumstances are very complex and she didn't actually mean for Saint-Cyr to die). Percy and Marguerite do still love each other, but ferocious stiff-necked pride on both sides prevents them from actually talking things out.
Chaubertin Chauvelin, suspecting that his bête noir, the Scarlet Pimpernel, is part of English high society, blackmails Marguerite into finding information on that mysterious Pimpernel for him by threatening her beloved brother's safety.
Marguerite caves and does so, but instantly regrets it. She regrets it even harder when she finally connects the dots that her foppish, foolish husband is the daring and ingenious Pimpernel.
Sir Percy having personally gone to France to rescue the Comte de Tournay, Marguerite makes a mad dash to warn her beloved husband that Shoehorn Chauvelin has rumbled him.
Without spoiling the entire ending of the novel: there is rescuing, communication, relinquishment of pride, professions of love, Chamberpot Chauvelin being so distracted by Marguerite at a crucial moment that Sir Percy is able to pull his master-stroke, with Chauvelin being defeated and (though it happens off-page) humiliated!
Looking at this summary, it seems to map eerily well onto the Final Fifteen, with the pride and blackmail and mutually less-than-perfect communication! That said, I'm personally getting the vibe that Aziraphale and Crowley are trading roles there somewhat, with Azzy being more Marguerite and Crowley being more of a Sir Percy-type. Also, Crowley is already well aware that his angel is very much the 'daring and ingenious badass' type when it comes to it :D
But what does it all mean for S3? Going from what I've said so far, my best guess is this: Aziraphale (Sir Percy) is carrying out his daring schemes of subversion against Heaven (France) and the Second Coming (the Revolution), while Crowley (Marguerite) is (at least initially) very down-in-the-dumps about their estrangement and the Metatron (Chauvelin) is keeping up pressure on Azzy to be meek and complaint by threatening Crowley. Crowley (once he gets past the initial gloom) starts making plans of his own, in close temporal proximity to his joining the dots about Aziraphale's plans. Aziraphale likewise manages to put two and two together regarding what his wily ol' serpent is up to, but one of them accidentally tips off the Metatron and co., realises it and desperately tries to warn/rescue the other (trading off or simultaneously filling both Sir Percy and Marguerite roles, per previous paragraph). This very desperation acts as a spanner in the works for Metatron and his plans for the Second Coming, drawing his focus to one of the Ineffable Husbands at a critical moment and allowing the other to complete their world/true-love-saving plans. The threat conclusively defeated, the Ineffables FINALLY FRICKIN' TALK THINGS OUT, have the proper wedding that they deserve and retire to that South Downs cottage to live happily ever after <3
Bonus points if another key factor in the Metatron's downfall is his underlings, like Chauvelin's, having been terrified into obeying orders to the letter rather than thinking independently or showing initiative! Given what we've seen of Heaven and its authoritarian abusiveness so far, this is a very distinct possibility...
One incident in Scarlet Pimpernel that is sadly unlikely to have a direct parallel in S3 is the glorious scene where Sir Percy exploits Chauvelin's (by this point well-established) snuff habit to pull off what is quite possibly the most badass pepper-sneeze prank ever put to paper. It is very possible, though, that something like it will happen as payoff for the Nazi Zombie Flesh-Eaters minisode establishing that Aziraphale can pull off sleight-of-hand PERFECTLY when it really counts :D
Thank you for reading this far! At this point, I'd like to take a wild left turn and have a little jaunt into increasingly wild extrapolation/rambling, starting with the subject of floriography, or the language of flowers. This was a craze that exploded in popularity in England during the 19th Century, assigning all sorts of meanings to all sorts of plants. The real-life pimpernel flower was assigned the meaning of 'change' or 'rendezvous/appointment/assignation' -- very appropriate for the Ineffable Husbands, since so much of their relationship has been conducted through clandestine appointments and they've both been through much change (both internal and external), with yet more change in their futures. I would say it'd be cool to see actual pimpernel flowers among the floral arrangements for the Ineffable Wedding, but I just checked the Wikipedia article and it turns out that pimpernels are interestingly poisonous... I doubt Baroness Orczy thought about that when picking floral symbolism XD
The pimpernel flower being associated with 'change' also reminds me of something Neil Gaiman said about Sandman, that the plot can be summed up as 'The King of Dreams must change or die, and he makes his choice.' At the climax of the penultimate arc of the comic, 'The Kindly Ones', Morpheus (who's been the central character of the whole comic thus far) finds himself unable to change to the degree he needs to, so he chooses to die so that another aspect of Dream of the Endless can come forth. I get the feeling that Good Omens might be in some way exploring the other branch of that choice, seeing what it might mean to opt for change rather than death. Or maybe the same 'death over change' branch as well, since it's so clear that the toxic messes of Heaven and Hell and the whole fucked-up system are too deeply entrenched for anything else?
Of course, none of this excludes or is incompatible with the Jane Austen parallels (particularly with Persuasion, as documented by other meta writers) that came up in s2 -- though to be honest, the very fact that they did appear in s2 means they're more likely to appear in s3, or at least more likely to be obvious/overt. That said, none of us can know the Mind of Gaiman, so we must perforce follow the Eleventh Commandment -- Wait And See!
It kinda feels like we're in the position of Job here (keep the faith and get back double what we lost), except with a MUCH more benevolent deity in charge of the whole shebang...
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dollsome-does-tumblr · 4 months
Text
digging through my many unfinished snippets of ofmd fics that i wrote between s1 and s2, and i thought this one was pretty diverting, so i'm posting it here! why not!
this was going to be the beginning of one where stede and ed are cursed by super awkwardness after reconciling ... until they get THE MOST DANGEROUS GAMED together by antoinette (who survived the boat fire but tragically lost her brother-husband) and her boy toy lackeys bret and jemaine, and rediscover their groove in the process!!!! i honestly might still write some version of this because i need mel antoinette and bret and jemaine to most dangerous game ed and stede and the crew. i simply need it like oxygen.
(i do really love that stede genuinely forgave ed for destroying all his stuff and didn't care about it in season two, for the record. but this was pre-season two me wondering, what if he couldn't help but be a little grumpy about it?)
***
(this was going to be a sequel to this fic for convenience's sake, ergo the references to the party etc.!)
***
“So this is it,” Stede murmurs to himself, gazing out to sea. “Happily ever after.”
Ed’s back, and Ed again. They defeated Izzy in a spectacular show of swordplay and now that miserable prat’s rowed off alone in a dinghy, hopefully in a way that will stick this time. The Revenge is Stede’s again, and the full crew has returned home to it.
It doesn’t get much more happily ever after than this.
Which has Stede wondering why life currently feels so awfully awkward.
+++
“Take it,” says Stede, when his and Ed’s fingers brush both reaching for the last piece of toast at breakfast.
“Ah, no, I couldn’t,” says Ed, pulling back like Stede’s fingers are on fire.
“Please!” says Stede. “I’m your host.”
“Yeah, but I stole your ship and took it on a joyride of destruction for a few weeks there and threw all your stuff in the sea,” says Ed, “so in a way, I’m your host.”
“Truly,” says Stede, sipping his tea from a rusting tin cup, “I had completely forgotten about that.”
“Had you?”
“Haven’t given it a moment’s thought in days. Let bygones be bygones, that’s what I say! Please. Help yourself.”
“You always like three pieces, though,” says Ed. “I don’t want to mess up your whole breakfast vibe–”
“JUST TAKE IT,” Stede snaps.
“Right. Sweet as.” Ed somehow, quite incredibly, shoves the entire piece of toast in his mouth at once. “Mmmphfff,” he says through chewing. “Scrumptious.”
“Is it?” says Stede, in careful gentlemanly tones. “I’m so glad.”
They smile placidly at each other.
+++
For the record, they haven’t kissed a second time yet. Or touched much at all, save for patching up each other’s wounds scored in the fight with Izzy. The fingers brushing over the toast is about as hot as the action has gotten. They have all the time in the world, Stede reminds himself, rather a lot, as his psyche unravels faster than a shoddily made scarf.
+++
The crew has one request of Stede, and it’s that Ed stay locked up in the captain’s cabin for a while.
“But he’s perfectly normal again!” Stede protests. “That whole descent-into-darkness snafu, we’ve worked through that.”
“He seems perfectly normal again,” Lucius allows. “But maybe you shouldn’t be the authority on this, as you’re the only one he didn’t try to kill.”
“And me,” Frenchie pipes up.
“And me,” Jim admits.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the hot ones psycho Blackbeard wanted for his cool new crew,” Pete says bitterly. “You can stop reminding us about it already.”
“What?” Stede exclaims, indignant. “He tried to kill me loads of times!”
“He swordfought you once, locked you in a closet, and then took you on a date to a party,” Lucius says.
“And he could’ve tried to kill me at any time during that party,” says Stede, “let me tell you.”
“Did he?” Lucius asks, hands on hips.
“No,” Stede admits reluctantly. “He played pirates with my son, and then instead of making me go back to the ship with him, he released me as his prisoner.”
Everyone groans.
“That’s the point, Captain,” says Lucius. “You’re his weak spot. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to start feeling stabby around the rest of us.”
“He’s not! He’s really mellowed.”
“Then let’s prove it, yeah?” says Oluwande, taking over so Lucius can really commit himself to judgmental faces. “Just keep him isolated for a bit, so we can make sure he’s not a threat to us.”
“I don’t care if he is,” says Buttons. “Let me at ‘im. I’ll chomp one of those pretty cheeks at the slightest prevarication.”
“No!” Stede says.
“Is that code fer yes?”
“No, that’s no! Buttons, I mean it. He’s got a very good face, and we’re going to keep it just the way it is.”
“Ah, fine,” says Buttons, deflating. Wee John pats him on the shoulder.
Stede takes this as the end of the conversation, and walks away. He pauses once he’s out of sight and listens.
“Do you really think Blackbeard’s going to snap again?” Olu asks.
“Probably not,” says Lucius, “but those two have got to fuck soon or the energy on this ship will never recover.”
Everyone murmurs in agreement.
Stede frowns.
+++
“Oh, sure,” says Ed. “Absolutely. I’d love to be your prisoner.”
“I know it might sound insulting–”
“Nah, just sensible. I really went off the deep end for a while there. I mean, I left most of those guys to die on a tiny island.”
“Well, when you put it like that.”
“I’d hate to be in your way, though.”
Stede gives him a stiff grin. He’s starting to worry his face might get stuck this way. “Oh, no. You couldn’t be.”
Ed grimaces politely back.
+++
Becoming a better person always sounds so clear in theory: as if it’s some new stage of existence you step into, like death, and never come back from.
Logically, Stede doesn’t mind that all his beloved things are gone, that his library has been wasted (unless there are some really bookish mermaids out there). What are things, really, compared to people? Not so much.
But not nothing, either, the small niggling voice in his head starts to say as the days go on.
+++
[After somehow finding themselves overboard and having to swim to the nearest island! Unsurprisingly, I skipped writing the complicated action sequence!]
“Oh my God, we’ve done it,” Stede pants when they finally reach the shore. “We’re alive!”
“Was there ever any doubt?” Ed asks.
“Quite a bit, yeah,” Stede can’t help admitting.
Ed groans. “Yeah, definitely. I’m really out of shape, man.”
“Maybe we should work some daily calisthenics into the schedule. If we make it out of here, that is.”
“I’m down for that.”
“Where are we?”
They take a moment to survey the beach. The narrow shoreline is quickly gobbled up into dense jungle.
But then, in the distance:
“Lights!” Stede yells, pointing.
+
“Well, this is a charming set-up, isn’t it??” Stede exclaims as they take in the sight of the sparkling chateau. 
Ed whistles. “Wouldn’t mind retiring here, putting my feet up.”
“It’s probably dangerous,” Stede adds, a tad reluctantly.
“Oh yeah. Nobody lives on their own island because they’re so great with people.”
“But all the same, there’s probably food in there. And beds.”
“We’re pirates,” Ed reminds him. “We can hold our own, can’t we?”
“Yeah! This weird freak with an island should be afraid of us!”
“That’s the spirit,” says Ed, knocking his knuckles against Stede’s.
In spite of all the recent nearly dying, Stede feels a surge of sudden bliss. They smile at each other–
And then the gigantic door swings open.
“Why, hello there!” says Stede brightly, going into good manners mode. “We’re two weary, lost travelers who happened across your lovely island–”
He realizes there’s no one there.
“Okay, I don’t like that a bit,” he declares, wrinkling his nose.
“It’s not promising,” Ed agrees grimly.
They step inside and are immediately met by a blazing chandelier in the foyer and the sound of a harpsichord being played in a distant room. The house is full of beautiful things; artwork on the walls, vases on tables. Stede feels suddenly, pleasantly dizzy.
“Oh, my,” he breathes.
“Pretty legit,” Ed declares.
“Why, if it eesn’t Sir Godfrey Thornrose and Jeff,” comes a woman’s voice, with a woman’s familiar obnoxiously fancy accent.
“Oh, God,” Stede mutters, dread filling him.
“Passive aggression,” Ed whispers.
And sure enough – even though the last time they saw her, it was on a ship that was swiftly burning to ash – standing there, looking as sparkly and unpleasant as before, is Antoinette.
+++
(dun dun DUNNNN!)
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seancekitsch · 2 years
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omg is there any possibility you are still writing for hughie from “the boys”? IF SO, I WOULD LOVE TO SEND IN A REQUEST :)) i see not nearly enough hughie x reader content on this app and it hurts my soul 😭
if i could request a fluff request with the prompt “cry, yell, whatever - i’m not gonna leave your side.” OR “come taste this” tell me if i need to add anything." that would be so amazing :,) i’ll they are both very different, but that’s because i got them from a prompt list LMAOO
THANK YOU SOSOSOSOSO MUCH 🫶
hi i hope this is cute
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“Why do you think I can’t do this?” Hughie doesn’t yell, but the exasperation in his voice comes close to it. Asking to come with him when he was supposed to go solo was a sore spot, and you knew it would be. What you didn’t want, however, was to upset him the way you currently were. 
“That’s not it,” you whisper, trying to keep Butcher or MM from checking up on you. You shuffle closer to him, until you’re almost leaning your cheek on his bicep. He’s cleaning off a gun, ready to conceal it on his person as you and the rest of the boys go on a reconnaissance. against him you can feel his biceps tense and the muscles shift with his movements. It isn’t lost on you how Hughie’s filled out since getting off of Temp-V. Whether that be a side effect of it, or him working out, you don’t know. He’s still lanky and a bit awkward in his frame, but he’s defining lean muscle under his worn Hall and Oates tee shirts and his lived-in flannel shirts. 
“I know Annie and Butcher are overprotective of me, but why can’t you believe in me like the others do?” He sighs putting the gun down on the table in front of him and pointedly turning away from you. 
But thats just the thing, you do believe in him, so much so. You watched him run head first into danger for years now and hold his own. And honestly? He’s pretty good with a gun, maybe even a better shot than Frenchie on a good day. You trust him in the field and with your life. 
“I do!” You insist, but his shoulders sag.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” he counters, and turns around to lean his ass against the table to sit. He looks defeated. You know the past year has been hard on him, and you’ve been with him for most of it, by his side and ready to do whatever he needs. Sure, Butcher called it ‘desperate and sad’ but Kimiko and MM both thought you were being a good friend, and would reassure you whenever Butcher rattled your cage. 
A good friend is a weird fucking thing to call it though, when really you’ve been love with him for years and it seems obvious to everyone but him. sure, if this is all you can get, you’re more than happy to settle for good friend. You’d fall in love with the role of good friend if that what Hughie needed you to be. 
You huff, and sigh as you move his pistol, jumping up onto the edge of the table next to him. 
“Hughie, Look at me,” he complies with your pleading, “Its not that… I do believe in you. You’re great with guns! You’re pretty solid at improvising…”
“Theres a ‘but’ coming in there, isn’t there?” he deadpans, and annoyance flashes behind your eyes. 
“Just let me talk!” you exclaim, maybe a little harshly because he pulls back.
“You are great, and there is a ‘but’, but it isn’t the ‘but’ you’re thinking of. I’m saying you’re great, but I would not live with myself if something happened to you and I wasn’t there to try to help you. And if something were to happen to me, you’re literally the only person I want… need by my side. I want to be there for you, but I need you to be there for me if shit goes sideways.”
It’s now that you look away from him, realizing immediately the grave error of your words. If this were a poker game, you’ve just flashed your entire hand to the table. 
“You need me?” he asks, as if this is the first time he’s ever noticed this. Hughie is bewildered. He always looks cute like this, the way his eyebrow quirks upwards.
“Always have. So… cry, yell, whatever. I’m not like the rest of them. I’m not gonna leave your side. I know you’re strong, but I need you.”
Hughie looks at you like this is is first time seeing you, really looking you over with a sharp eye, taking in every detail. You try to shrink away.
“No! Please keep looking at me. Please. I- yeah I want you to be my partner for this,” he nods as he talks, trying to convince you as he processes everything you’ve thrown at him. 
“Okay,” you whisper, more meek than you intended. 
“I-“ he pauses, “Fuck!”
And then he surges forward, his hands coming up to grab your cheeks just half a second before his lips capture your own. Your lips move against his in rhythm, pushing and pulling like the tides against each other. One of his hands moves to cup the back of your head, and your arms reach out to wrap themselves around his neck. His tongue licks at the seam of your lips, and you happily part your lips, moaning gently as you do so.
He pulls back, just as suddenly as he started this, and quickly you fall back to earth. 
Fuck, what if this was a mistake? What if this was him just getting out pent up tension? I mean… Hughie’s not the the type but maybe…
“I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he sighs, and completely tramples your train of thought. 
“You have?”
He laughs.
“You mean Butcher teasing the fuck out of both of us didn’t alert you to my crush?”
“I thought he was just picking on me!”
Hughie laughs again as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you in again, pressing endless kisses on the crown of your head. 
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rwac96 · 1 year
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Just one more prompt for the Boys vs the DC universe;
Batman vs Billy Butcher!
They both lost people dear to them, and regularly go against those with powers despite being powerless, all in the name of vengeance.
But Butcher let his vengeance consume him to the point that he stopped caring about the lives of the innocent who get caught in the crossfire, only caring about getting back at Homelander to the point that he thinks EVERY superhero is just as bad as he is.
Batman on the other hand learned how to control his rage and channels it to motivate himself to NEVER cross the line, because it make him just as bad as the scum he fights. He knows that killing is like a drug that can darken the soul, and if he were to allow himself to cross that line, he knows he’ll never go back. He made a promise to never do so.
Bruce would definitely feel insulted by Butcher’s actions, since Butcher is essentially what he has to keep himself from becoming every-time he dons his mask. A man who takes the easy way, who enjoys hurting others to the point he became EXACTLY like the people he despised.
Bruce would find the evidence to permanently take down Vought, go after the Boys, give Milk and Hughie the chance to go back to their normal lives, and easily take down Butcher, and drag him kicking, and screaming bloody murder and lock him up in the most secure holding cell that Arkham has to offer. Because Batman is more than vengeance, he’s a true knight of justice! Something that Butcher has long since turned his back on.
"F-Fuck," panted an injured Billy Butcher, who clutched the crowbar in his shaking hands.
Beaten black & blue, blood pouring from one of his nostrils and the edge of his lips; his right eye was nearly swollen. The leader of The Boys found himself in a situation that many criminals dreaded; a fight with The infamous Batman. Billy didn't know how, but he figured that the Dark Knight had a hand in something he tried and failed to do for years: Bring down Vought. The once untouchable company was now facing many charges, the top executives & CEOs facing prosecution and many victims of Compound-V Supes were stepping forward.
If it was back when he first began his crusade against Vought, it would've been the end of it for William "Billy" Butcher. But, his rage against Homelander grew into hatred against all Supes, heroes & villains. In his eyes, they were corrupt hedonists, ticking time bombs. He wanted to see every Supe dead and was nearly successful if it wasn't for the Seven being brought down by the Justice League. Now, he was alone, the other members of The Boys likely have been likely taken out. Frenchie and Kimiko were tied to a pillar, meanwhile, Soldier Boy was found knocked out. Milk and Hughie seemed to have surrendered without a fight, due to the fact that there wasn't a reason to.
"It's over, Butcher," Batman's voice ring out from the shadows, making the injured man look around. "we can end this without further violence."
"Is that so, eh mate?" Billy replied, letting out a pained chuckle. "you and your Supe pals taking down those Vought Cunts and suddenly we're all buddies?!"
"You're unhinged," the Bat of Gotham answered, as he drops down from a railing; shrouded in the shadows. "you planned on killing every metahuman on the Earth with Luthor's enhanced Amazo Virus."
"It would've wiped every Supe off the bloody Earth! Bastards like Homelander, Pyscho, Veritgo!"
"They deserve to stand trial for their crimes," the Caped Crusade said, approaching Billy. "but not every Metahuman is like that. There are heroes, genuine in their cause. Other Metahumans who wish to live in peace, the peace that you and Beth were robbed of."
"Keep her name outta your bloody mouth!" Butcher proceeded to charge toward Batman, who evaded the swing of the crowbar and delivered decisive blows to his torso and face. Billy fell down onto his back, groaning in defeat.
"William," Batman spoke, "you need help. Your vengeance turned you into the very thing you fought against, nearly taking down everyone who followed you. This is not what Beth wanted, Billy, and deep down you know that."
"S-Shut up," he panted, his blue eyes glaring at the vigilante in black & grey.
"Stop," the Dark Knight instructed, kneeling down to restrain Butcher's wrist with custom-made rope. "it's over. Maybe time in Arkham will give you some perspective, or at least get you to see how far you've fallen."
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female-buckets · 1 year
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My #1 choice for Sloowie: Seattle Storm. Obviously.
My #2 choice for Sloowie: Sloot to Seattle and Stewie to the Mystics. Mystics don't have the money to sign both Sloot and Stewie. But a Stewie/Elena front court would be invincible.
My #3 choice for Sloowie: Minnesota Lynx. Kayla Mcbride has been chatting up Sloot and Stewie in Turkey this whole time. A Stewie Napheesa UConn reunion would be dope. Also, I saw Napheesa hanging out with Gabby and Marine in Paris. Lynx could pull the Frenchies in and draft Lou Lopez Senechal. The ultimate French/UConn/USA super team with Cheryl Reeve at the helm. Reeve wants to defeat Million Dollar Becky. Reeve wants to prove that she is forever and always the top WNBA coach.
My #4 choice for Sloowie: Liberty. I'm not feeling it. I want the league to have multiple top teams, not 2 top teams. I want JJ to thrive and she needs to be the front court focus in order to play well. Liberty will still be competitive without Sloowie.
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lxchlan · 2 years
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Butchie prompt: shelter
SHELTER : seeing a threat barreling toward them (such as a storm, the shockwave from an explosion, or a building they’re in collapsing), sender holds the injured / incapacitated receiver close, turning their back to the threat to bear the brunt of the impact instead of the receiver.
☆ Send me Prompts ☆
"Butcher... Butcher, he's hurt bad..."
M.M's voice was quiet, soft, gentle. Like a parent telling their child the family pet was going away to the farm while the poor bastard was really dying from kidney failure. The tone made his anger flare and Butcher closed his hand so tightly his fist shook. He wanted to lash out, to hurt something, to turn this pain outward, make someone understand the agony he lived in. But he only just dropped his fist against the nearest wall, a defeated thunk as he hung his head.
Silence for a moment, before Hughie coughed and groaned, blood bubbling at his lips and both men turned their attention to the boy. M.M moved to help, though his first aid would do fuck all when they were trapped at the top of Vought tower with eighteen hundred pounds of C-4 prepped to take out the lower supports. Butcher checked his watch, then nodded.
"Go down, get Frenchie and his girl, get 'em outside." Again, he checked his watch, knowing the exact amount of time he had, but relaying a different time to M.M. "If you're quick, you can find Starlight. Send her in, she can get Hughie out."
"What about-"
"Times up, mate." Butcher shook his head. "Me brain's sick, s'gonna kill me any day now. Might as well be doin' this. Go."
There was no time for weeping goodbyes, and Butcher knew M.M wasn't that kind of man. He knew the odds, he knew Butcher was beyond help. But he thought there might be hope for Hughie, thought he could save him if he was fast enough. He wouldn't be, but he could save everyone else. Hughie would have wanted that.
Once alone, Butcher crossed to Hughie, kneeling and cradling his head as gently as he could which, unfortunately, wasn't too gentle. Hughie winced, face twisted in pain explicit enough to make Butcher feel genuine remorse. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Hughie wasn't supposed to be here.
"Shh, sh, sh." Butcher shushed him, free hand brushing back those wavy locks that got out of control when Hughie let his hair grow too long. Then he wiped blood from the lad's forehead, cheeks, jaw. Trying to see him one last time. "Take it easy, love, take it easy. M'here."
"Bu- Butcher?" One eye opened, blinking slowly, like he was struggling to see. "Did... Did we win?"
"Yeah, mate, I think we did." Butcher lied, shifting so tenderly so he could have Hughie in his lap, the blood from his impalement wound spreading warmth along his thighs. This wasn't the way he wanted to get Hughie in his arms, but it was sure as fuck fitting. He held him like that for some time. It lasted forever but not nearly long enough at the same time. Butcher brushed away a stray tear, fingertips sliding through Hughie's hair and curling around his ear. "You doin' alright?"
"Mm. No." Hughie admitted, and his lips curled up like he was going to laugh but no sound came out. "I... uh, I wanna go home, now."
"We can go home now. Jus' close your eyes an' we'll be home soon." Another lie, but what else could he say? Tell him the truth? Scare him more than he already was? He glanced at his watch. M.M should be out of the building, probably looking for Annie who was helping all the employees get a safe distance away. She didn't know Hughie was in here, Butcher had promised Hughie wouldn't be, but, as always, Hughie had his own plans.
"Butcher, I..." Another pained sound and labored breath, but Hughie struggled on. "If this is it, I-"
"Don'. Jus' don't, son." Butcher shook his head, looking anywhere but Hughie. "Don't let your las' words be somethin' stupid."
"I... I love Billy Bu... Butcher doesn't sound. Mm. Doesn't sound too bad."
Against his better judgement, Butcher looked down at him. He didn't deserve so good a final moment. Not when he was dragging Hughie down with him. "You're a daft fuckin' cunt, Hughie. Absolutely mental."
A distant boom, and the building shuddered as the lower levels began to crumble. Hughie's hand fisted weakly in the front of Butcher's jacket, Butcher held on to him as tightly as he dared. Against him, Butcher felt Hughie laugh or sob, he couldn't really tell, it could be both. "H-highest form of praise wh-where you come from, right?"
"Right, love." Butcher murmured, the shaking getting more intense as the destruction climbed it's way up. The floor would give out any second and they'd fall into nothing. But they'd do it together. Hughie whimpered and Butcher held him close, curling around him like that could protect him from the inevitable. "It's okay, love. It's okay. I got you."
The walls around them rumbled and cracked, the sound an overwhelming roar before everything went silent.
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neptunianashes · 1 year
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when Argentina lost to Saudi Arabia, our national team didn’t cry about. Scaloni and Messi said: “We could not come better prepared, it is the reality, but football and especially the World Cup have these things. They don't give you time to be wrong and unfortunately today happened like that. There is no other reading than getting up. We are going to get up and continue with our heads up to win both next games. We ask our people to be patient, to have faith and believe in us, we know we can do it. Today’s defeat ended an era of 36 unbeaten games, we will rebuild a new better era from this defeat onwards.” This is how Argentina faced defeat. Look at how pathetic yall frenchies are after losing, asking for a rematch, trying to cancel 2 of our goals when yall had 2 penalties one of those that waasn’t penalty bc one of your players touched the ball with the hand previous to ours, yall wanted a third penalty too that wasn’t and thanks fuck the referee saw what happened and give the french player a yellow card for faking a penalty, and yall complaining about our bench players entering the pitch to celebrate in a goal, yours did the same in the last save our goalkeeper did in the minute 123, yall thought it was goal and entered the pitch too. Shut the fuck up. Keep talking shit and lies like the dutch, you are the sore losers that can’t accept a south american nation not only won against your shit european asses but also completely dominated 80% of the game after yall were trash talking on us saying european football is better than south american. Bitch you thought, bitch you really thought.
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izzy-b-hands · 1 year
Text
ooh I've got amusement park stuff on the brain now
Shane and Ryan's multiple videos of eating food at Knott's Berry Farm but it's the crew of the revenge (izzy films. he wants to try most of it, but also doesn't want to die via his gut, so he gets the blander versions of most of it (a mood bc i usually have to do the same))
Ed is gonna be the most successful at helping finish everything off, but that's partially bc he's indulging his inner foodie and also his mum drilled into him not to waste food like. ever (hello am i projecting onto ed a bit again), so he will not stop until he's on the edge of Too Full
I feel like there's a few other wildcard moments i could put in this tho:
Roach is a skinny lad but he's a cook and he's got rich, fun food in front of him he didn't have to cook. He's eating until you have to carry him out (like the hero he is for ingesting possibly more boysenberry products than any human in known history)
Buttons is actually quite demure abt it all. Treats it like a tasting menu and is writing down reviews that Stede nerds out over
For the ridiculously long hot dog that almost requires a person eating from each end:
Hot dog 1: Ed and Stede, with both of them getting the giggles until it's gone
Hot dog 2: Olu and Jim, with a bet going on who reaches the middle first (they meet there on purpose so they can kiss on the last bite but they don't tell anyone that)
Hot dog 3: Frenchie and The Swede. Both end up feeling sick by a third of the way, and Ed and Roach generously offer to help finish theirs off. Also while getting the giggles the entire time.
Hot dog 4, aka the point when Izzy mentions they still have other menu items to try, everyone please remember that: Stede and Izzy, after being reassured by the concession worker of the ingredients and offered gut meds for after (stede heard ppl bring medical stuff with them to long theme park days, so naturally he has a kit big enough that he couldn't actually haul the whole thing with them from the van.) They say they aren't enjoying it. It's weird, Ed. But they don't stop, and it gets oddly tense and quiet until Frenchie jokes that they'll kiss at the end.
They end up like those two bunnies fighting over food, trying to avoid each other, only to end up kissing perfectly, stunned, until Ed gently asks if they want to go on a roller coaster (absolutely not ed! we just ate! we're old! we'll die! to which Ed lovingly rolls his eyes until After The Coaster reveals he is no longer 19 and able to do that without being sick.)
Also god there was that. huge platter that came on like three plates in the second vid
I like to imagine that's where everyone starts to begrudgingly admit defeat, before going to nap it off in the car and finally heading home (roach and ed and izzy ask abt a McDonald's run on the way, befuddling everyone, tho izzy notes he didn't even eat that much before, so-)
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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years
Text
Competition - Bakugou Katsuki - Victorious Inspired
Bakugou x f!reader
Warnings: Cursing, Fluff(ish), Crack, Jealous Bakugou, tatted Bakugou Cuz we love a lil spice
Summary: You were doing homework online with your friends when a needy Bakugou wanted your attention and was pouty when he didn’t get it. After Mina slipped up and said something stupid, Bakugou assumed horrible things and went over only to find out something so very comical.
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
You were in your second year of college and the work was killing you. Thankfully, this time around, your assignment was the slightest bit easier, as it was a group project. You, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina were currently working on the project through the computer while being on video chat. The night was still young and you still had plenty to do.
“Okay, after I type in this paragraph, what should the next section be abou-“ You were cut off by the sound of a little French bulldog barking and scampering your way. The cute little black dog jumped onto your lap and made itself comfortable, causing you to look down and smile at it before petting it’s ears.
“Awww, look at the little puppy!” Mina said.
“He’s cute, right? I’m watching him for my neighbor while he’s at his football game.” You explained.
“You live next to a football player?!” The pink girl exclaimed.
“I do,” you said with a smile.
“Figures. I live next to an old man who likes to throw lemons at me!” She ranted. The group all laughed at her before continuing the job.
You all worked and finished about 4 pages of the assignment. While in the midst of the 5th page, your boyfriend requested to join your video chat. “Oop, hold on. Suki’s asking to join.”
You added your junior high school sweetheart to the call and was met with a frustrated pout. “Hi babe!” You squealed.
The group all tried to say their greetings to their friend but he spoke before they could. “Where have you been?”
“What? At home.” You said.
“I’ve been calling you, texting you, and basically blowing up your phone, and you haven’t been answering for hours!” He whined. His friends got a small kick out of seeing their tough friend be a softie for his girlfriend and remained quiet to enjoy the show.
“Sorry. I’ve been doing homework and-“
“What is that? Why do you have that animal on you?” He interrupted and asked as he slanted his eyes towards the small canine.
“It’s my neighbor’s dog,” you said with a pitched voice as you cradled the pup closer, almost like you were defending it’s honor.
“Her neighbor, the football player.” Mina mentioned with a sly voice. You shut your eyes and released a slow sigh as you knew what was coming.
“Football player?!” Bakugou shouted.
“Why? Why would you say that?” You said to Mina with a disappointed tone. She was one of his friends, she knew what the reaction would’ve been.
“Sorry,” she genuinely said.
“Why are you doing favors for some football player and what is he doing for you?” Bakugou seethed.
“There’s nothing going on, he’s just-“
“I’m coming over there.” He blatantly said.
“No- no. You don’t need to-“ without letting you finish, Bakugou signed off and went to get ready for his leave. You sighed at your jealous boyfriend and threw shady eyes towards Mina.
Some time had passed and your group had finished the 7th page. Almost done! Thank god for this being a small little assignment. Unfortunately, your boyfriend’s little fuss put you all behind schedule a little and it didn’t help that he finally made his arrival to add a little more drama to the show.
A bang was heard at your door. “Open up Y/N!”
“Uhh, I think you’re getting robbed Y/N.” Kaminari said.
“Nah, it’s just Suki.” You said to the blonde through the screen. You then turned to your front door to speak to your boyfriend who was on the other side. “You’re being ridiculous!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! “I need to talk to you!” He said.
“Sorry, door’s locked!” You replied. Unfortunately, the door busted open and you sighed in frustration. “And now it’s not.”
“He has a key?” Kirishima asked.
“No, he has a foot.” You said and then turned to your boyfriend with a sarcastic but also genuine smile. “Hi baby.”
And now here stood your angry boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki. He was dressed in his combat boots, a pair of black jeans and a white tee. He held a dark green bomber jacket in his hands that he wore due to the slightly cold weather out in the night. With the jacket off, his fully tatted arms were exposed along with the few tattoos that adorned his neck. He had his silver chain on along with a few rings and his cross piercing on his left ear and a few other random ones on his right. To anyone else, your boyfriend looked like a ruffian especially with his motorcycle that was surely parked out front. He definitely was an attractive man. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and you felt so blessed to have him and have him want you and only you.
He looked like the typical bad boy who was mean as fuck and also happened to be good at everything he did. In reality, he was just your Suki who was a softie that can be a little tempered at times. Like right now.
“What is going on?!” He asked in frustration.
“You just kicked my door open!” You said as you pointed to the evidence.
“Put the dog down and tell me about this football asswipe who lives next door!” He demanded.
“No! I will not put the dog down!” You said, cradling the sweet baby even closer.
“Oh you’re not?!” He said in a threatening tone but you knew your boyfriend would never do any real harm.
“No! If you want to meet the football player then you can wait to talk to him when he gets back.” You said.
“Then I’ll wait for him!” He said, taking a seat a little bit behind you from your setup on the couch’s ottoman.
“Fine!” You said, turning back to your friends. After a second, you realized something and turned back to face him. “No kiss?”
He only stuck his tongue out at you to which you pouted in anger and did the same before turning around. However, you smiled once you felt him come up from behind you and place a peck on your cheek before going back to his spot on the couch.
“Awwww,” your group of friends cooed to which you and Bakugou both smiled and rolled your eyes.
Some more time passed and eventually, Mina and Kirishima both grew too tired (thanks to that college schedule) and signed off for the night. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one who stayed up with you to continue to do the work and was more than happy to help.
“Guess it’s just you and me.” You said to the electric blonde.
“And me.” Your boyfriend said with sass in the background of your screen.
You and Kaminari continued to work until you got to the 15th and final page. Like what was previously said, very easy, very simple, very short. All you had to do was finish this last page and you’d be done! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans and an expected knock was heard at your door.
“Ouu, is that the football player?” Kaminari cooed and teased knowing Bakugou would hear.
“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come in!” You kindly called.
“Yeah, COME IN!” Your boyfriend rudely said, setting himself up to sit a little straighter and look a little meaner.
To his surprise, in came a young boy who was dressed in his school representative hoodie and a pair of sweats. “Hi Y/N!”
“Hi Ryu!” You said to the young boy who took a seat next to you. “Katsuki, this is my next door neighbor, Ryu. Ryu, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki.”
“Nice to meet you mister!” The boy said with excitement as he looked towards your “scary” boyfriend in the back.
“Hello Ryu.” Your boyfriend said in a defeated tone that he hid with a smile and wave towards the little boy. You smirked at your boyfriend as you recognized his tone. The tone he usually had when you proved him wrong. Ryu being the sweet boy he is also waved towards your friend at the camera to be polite.
“What’s up little man,” Kaminari said as a greeting. Ryu turned to you to pick up his little frenchie.
“Thanks for taking care of Natsu!” He said sweetly.
“Anytime kiddo!” You said, giving him the dog. Ryu pet his pup for a second before looking back at Bakugou and whispering to you. Luckily, it was loud enough for Bakugou to hear.
“Your boyfriend looks really cool!” He whispered excitedly.
“I know!” You whisper-yelled back with a smile. Kaminari let out a little laugh while Bakugou had a sad face. He felt guilty for wanting to come here to beat the shit out of a football player, only for that football player to be a cool lil kid who thought he was pretty cool too.
“Well thanks again! Bye now!” Ryu said before getting up and leaving with his dog. You waved at them until the door shut, you crossed your legs and smiled as Katsuki got up with a sigh and took Ryu’s seat next to you.
“Wow Bakugou, looks like you got some competition!” Kaminari teased. Bakugou only sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand before feeling you push on his shoulder.
“You gonna say you’re sorry~” you teasingly asked.
“You didn’t tell me he was 9!” He argued.
“You didn’t give me a chance!” You laughed out. Bakugou flopped onto his back as he began bantering with you. You both went back and forth and Kaminari chuckled to himself before signing off to let the cute couple have their time in privacy.
Bakugou remained on his back until you poked his face and he grabbed you before flipping the both of you over so that you were under him. He flopped down onto your body, getting comfortable on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair in a successful attempt to soothe him.
“Just wanted some attention from my baby.” He muffled out with a small blush. You smiled and looked towards your screen.
“Well Kaminari signed off, Natsu’s gone, and it’s just you and me. You now have my undivided attention, Suki.” You said. Bakugou sighed in content before going up to place a kiss on your lips.
“Good.” He said before tucking his head into the crevasse of your neck. You held him close while he played the small spoon and you both cuddled up nicely. If it was attention he wanted, it was attention he’d get.
Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan
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dollwritesarchive · 3 years
Text
[ ᴍɪɴɪ ᴍᴜsɪɴɢs ] rock a bye ❛ frenchie ( the boys )
fandom the boys
featuring dark!frenchie x atf!reader (f)
rating sfw, but possibly triggering
content warning this piece is a little on the darker side as it is meant to be frenchie pre-season 1, gun use, threats
summary waking up in the middle of the night, you realize you have an unwanted guest in the nursery
word count 2097
attention this got darker than I originally intended. thanks to everyone who gave me the french terms I needed. not proofread. do not translate or repost my work anywhere ever. please reblog and leave feedback if you enjoy!
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there’s a crackle to the left of your head, an oh-so easily distinguishable resonance that wakes you immediately. it would’ve if you’d been hardly sleeping, or as deep into your dreams as you could go- it meant the baby monitor was active. it sits on your bedside table; your cell phone and badge lay in a stack beside it.
squinting against the set of 3 LEDs that have been set directly beneath the volume gauge, your brows knit together as you listen for the sound of your daughter’s cries. in the meantime, you reach for your phone, the screen illuminating as soon as it's raised from its perch, and you resist the urge to close your eyes as you’re temporarily blinded by your own lockscreen, which is a tender candid of you only weeks prior, the day of Baby Cora’s birth. in the shot, you’ve got her, premature and bundled in pink fleece, resting in your arms. exhaling in defeat the moment you read the time displayed, your head wants to fall back against the pillow. it was about time for her to wake up, as her schedule seemed to be: any time you were sleeping, she wasn’t, and vice versa.
another crackle on the monitor, and your eyes widen. your daughter’s screaming isn’t what comes through the speaker, but instead a very distinct, very familiar male voice cooing to her. your stomach ties itself in tight knots and, before you know it, you’re retrieving the matte black glock from the holster draped over the bedpost as you shoot up from your bed.
feet silent as they touch the cool hardwood, you steady the gun in your shaky grip by holding it with both hands and keeping it close, as if the power to take a life could harden your resolve.
the trek to Cora’s bedroom is a short one, but you find yourself panting, albeit silently, by the time you reach the door. your lungs are burning, heart pounding, as you traipse along the hair-thin cracks in the hardwood. spectral glow stains the tops of your feet as the pale moonlight spills through a part in the curtains opposite the wall from the one you press your body against. one, final step and you hold the grip of the weapon so tightly your knuckles ache. you lean back, allowing the crown of your head to rest against the wall as you steel your nerves.
“Ooh, ma schtroumpfette…” it was unsettling hearing his voice again, even though you knew he wasn’t speaking to you; it was a sing-song whisper, and your heart thumps almost painfully against your rib cage. “So big already, uh?”
the door to the nursery is ajar already, and the only thing you need to do is slip inside. upon your quiet entry, you catch sight of his shoulders hunched, his back facing you. thick, dirty digits curled around the edge of the crib, he leans forward to talk directly to your daughter, who lay peacefully in the crib.
there’s a telltale click once the bead is steadied, dead between his shoulder blades, and you flip the safety off. “Get away from her.” you had hoped to sound a tad more intimidating, but your voice is slightly shaken.
his shoulders tense, but otherwise he doesn’t move. “Cora’s a beautiful name, amour.”
your frown deepens, and you take another cautious step into the nursery. “Frenchie,” you warn, holding the gun with both hands. it’d been so long since you spoke to him directly, the nickname seemed silly and foreign on your tongue, like something was terribly wrong to cause your lips to form the syllables. there was something terribly wrong, and you had a gun pointed at it.
Frenchie’s head sinks a bit lower, hands releasing the crib, albeit reluctantly. “I would’ve liked to have been there, you know?” he pauses, before he adds quietly, “Well, allowed in the room. I had to watch from the rooftop with a pair of binoculars.”
his confession sends an icy chill down your spine, and freezes your beating heart in the process. now admittedly angry, you hiss. “You’re a crazy bastard to even think that you could be there.”
“Mm. Pourquoi? Shouldn’t a father be there for the birth of his little girl?” you know that, in a way, he’s right.
however, not only your pride, but also the need to protect your infant keeps your resolve solid as rock. the gun seems steady on him, unwavering and unwilling to lower. “You don’t get it, do you? Has your very last braincell evaporated in the cloud of smoke that engulfs you? I almost lost everything because of you. As soon as IA found out I was pregnant, they were crawling my ass.” you side step to the changing table to prop yourself against it, eyes never leaving him. “I was under surveillance the day after Kosner’s funeral-“
Frenchie’s lip twitches, eyes cast down at Cora. “I am sorry about him. I had no choice.” he reaches forward with the very tip of his forefinger and gives her nose a little poke, a fond smile threatening to lighten his features.
you decide to ignore his ‘apology’, if one could call such a pisspoor attempt at justification anything other than a coward hiding behind an excuse. your jaw clenches; but you’re not only angry at him. mostly, you hate yourself. Kosner had been your partner since you moved into ATF; you’d learned everything with him. shared everything with him. there’s always a choice, you can hear his voice in your head. Kosner had been the closest thing to a father you’d had, and the moment he came too close to figuring out about your affair with Frenchie, a bright red bullseye was painted on his back. you consider asking the man, nay, the killer before you if he was the one who sniper Kosner. if he had been unable to trust anyone else not to miss and hit his pregnant, secret girlfriend that had been standing two feet away.
“- they raided my house, French. Looking for you.” you finish the intended statement instead of opening that can of worms. the memory of watching your partner, your friend, choking on his blood and knowing damn well it was your fault was too painful to pull to the surface again. you shrug, solemnly. “Who's to say they didn’t plant a bug in every room? That I don’t have two agents in a black SUV outside right now, watching and listening to everything?”
“You don’t,” he answers simply, straightening. his darkened couplet locks your gaze within his, and you feel your heart skip a beat. those eyes. they were mesmerizing and terrifying, and told such contradicting tales: those of his making love to you, kissing the tip of your nose, and whispering that he loved you, but also of a merciless, godless killer. one that didn’t bat an eye when he took a life. he carried it all in his gaze, and perhaps that’s why it was such an endless, dark ocean. “You are smarter than that, no? I taught you better than that.” he sighs, albeit softly, and gestures with a nod towards the crib. “I’ll hold her now.”
you were so close to lowering the gun, to setting it aside, but his words seem to slap the sense right back into you, and your fingers tighten around the grip. a shake of your head. “No.”
his brows arch, both hands fleeing to the lapels of his army-green coat. “Oh, I wasn’t asking.”
you’re tense again, incredibly so. for you know all too well what awaits beneath the fabric- twin holsters that fit snug against his ribs, the strap that keeps them close to his person like another set of skin against his back and shoulders. how many times you’d peeled them off of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t feel the need to put them back on. to you, they were his barrier, his defense when someone got too close, and back then you were willing to risk it all if only he’d bring you closer to his chest than those damn guns. “Frenchie-“ you breathe out in a heartbeat. times like this, you wish you knew his real name. if only he’d told you, let you in, things might’ve been different.
as if he’d read your mind, he jerks the fabric back, his arms follow to slip free of the coat, but his eyes are on you. perhaps to gauge your confusion and surprise with subtle bemusement when you realize the holsters are empty. “You are the only one armed, mère ours.” as if to emphasize his defenselessness, Frenchie raises both hands, palms out to you. “If you want to keep the bead on me, then you can. Shoot me if need be, but I will hold my girl.”
you shouldn’t have hesitated, but you did. you lower the gun to allow it to hang in one hand at your side, your finger escaping the trigger to flip the safety back on. Frenchie only smiles, nods graciously, and dips his hands into the crib to cradle his baby girl. it was a sight that, had you been as young and naive as you were when the affair started, you would’ve dreamt about. he holds her close to his heart with such tenderness that you’re almost envious— as much as you wanted to pretend that you hated him, you missed him.
“Have you been staying out of trouble?” you ask, keeping your distance but staring. though you were relaxed, you weren’t fooled. you knew the man too well to let your guard down completely.
Frenchie chuckles, glancing up at you as if you had three heads. “Absolutely not.” he answers, and a shudder creeps over you at the humor in his utterance. he was pleased to inform you that he was still the criminal you were stupid enough to fall for. what’s worse? he was holding your daughter when he admitted it. crooning softly, he holds her close and pecks her chubby, little cheek. when her miniature fingers reach to feel the dark stubble on his chin, he kisses them, too. “She is so little,” he whispers, staring at her in awe, “and pretty like her maman.”
the word turns your stomach, and you look away for a moment, feeling your eyes welling up with the hot threat of tears. “She still has a chance, you know?” you mumble, voice shaking. “The chance at a normal life, a happy life where she’s not in danger. If she knows you, she’ll never have that.” when you look back to him, he’s glaring at you; it’s frightening, to say the least. in the dark, his eyes are onyx.
“She is mine,” he rumbles. “As much as she is yours. You can’t keep her from me.” Frenchie crosses the room, slowly and threatening, with Cora safe in his arms. “You can lock all of your doors, you can run away, you can try to hide her, but I will always find her. I will always find you.” he shifts Cora to one hand against his chest as the other snatches the gun from yours. you gasp, having been so entranced by his threats that you’ve no time at all to react. extending Cora to you, you take your baby in your arms and hold her against you, shielding her from her father. you try to take a step back, but his boots plant themselves on either side of your bare feet, effectively pinning you to the changing table. your heart is pounding so hard against your rib cage that it hurts your chest.
after a few moments of watching him toy with your government issued gun, you forget how to breathe when he presses the barrel to your cheek. “I am sorry, chérie, but I’m going to be part of this family, whether you want me to or not.” he only holds it there for a couple of seconds, long enough to get his point across as his blackened gaze pours into yours, before he stuffs your gun into the holster against his ribs and grabs your cheek, pulling it to his lips. one tear escapes your duct and races down to meet his lips. “You’ll come to love my surprise visits again, just like you did before, and I’m going to spoil our baby girl.” he smiles, seeming not to notice you’re crying or, at least, he doesn’t seem to care. “We’re going to be a happy family, just give it some time.”
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dirty-brainrot · 3 years
Text
(Boingo’s magical book)
Smelly cowboy and French tiddy man time.
Pairing(s) Hol Horse x Reader x Polnareff
You couldn't believe that man. First, he pestered you to no end just to team up with him and defeat some traveling men. After finally getting annoyed enough, you agreed. But this damned bastard says that there wasn't enough power so he decides to kidnap a fucking kid.
You met Hol Horse a while back in your home country where he tried to woo you. Unbeknownst to him, you were also a stand user. So you fought him because he kept on annoying you and successfully defeating him. Who knew you would be friends with him after that.
With a deep sigh, you facepalmed and massaged your temples. "Hol Horse... You fucking kidnapped a child." You whispered with a hiss and pointed at the kid, who laid down in a crawling position and hid behind a small bush. "Don't be like that, doll. With the 3 of us, we can defeat the crusaders and get the rich!" Shaking your head, you kneeled in front of the child stand user. "Hey, your name is Mondatta right?" You asked with a soft tone, unlike what you used to Hol Horse earlier. He stayed quiet and stared at you. "It's useless talking to that ki—" Doing a 180, you glared at Hol Horse making him shut up. Turning back to Mondatta, your face softened. "Hey, I know it's scary being separated from your brother and getting kidnapped by a wannabe cowboy... but you can trust us! I won't let anyone harm you." You gave him a friendly smile and he relaxed... A little bit.
Standing up to your full height, you turned to Hol Horse and grabbed the book. "Does your stand really predicts the future?" You flipped through the pages until you were met with a blank one. "—Or is it just a rumor? If it is then I brought you ere' for nothin'." Hol horse adds on and looks over your shoulder to look at [Tohth]. "Even with it, your brother got blown to high heaven..." He looks at Mondatta and shouts. "Which is it, kid?!" You huff and elbowed his side, muttering "Be nicer to the kid. For god's sake, you kidnapped him—" The empty pages suddenly were getting filled with images out of nowhere! You outstretched your arms and showed it to Hol Horse. "Hm?" He leaned over and read the pages.
Hol Horse introduced Mondatta to Y/N! He thinks that Y/N is really nice and better than Hol Horse.—
Hol Horse grumbles and you snicker.
While the three of them were walking around the outskirts of Cairo, they met a very pretty lady. Then Hol Horse suddenly jump-kicked the lady in the neck! The pretty lady was so happy, she gave Hol Horse her jewels.
Yahoo!! We're rich!!
"What the hell is this?!—" He shouts, taken aback. "A comic book."You replied sarcastically. He ignores your comment and snatches the book off of you. Approaching Mondatta he yells. "You call this a prediction?! There's no way this has to be true!" Mondatta rises up, still hiding behind the bush. "I—I'm telling the truth..." Stuttering and struggling to talk, he continues. "Y-you just—just have to t-trust it... They—they're never wrong! They're...They're right..100% ri-right everytim—"
"Quit messing with me kid! There's no way a lady is gonna—" Hol Horse continues to talk. But you were distracted by the pretty woman walking along with a man, they passed by. 'It looks like it's coming along...' Hol Horse grabs Mondatta and you shot daggers at him, making him put the kid down. Mondatta ran behind your leg. "I'll never hit a woman! See that?!" The man and woman pass by him and he was too far to be able to kick her. (Unless he ran after her.) After a while, he made a weird impatient humming noise and went after the woman. Jump-kicking her like as the book said but apparently, there was a scorpion in her shawl! You clapped and shouted. "Nice going Mr. I respect women!" The woman thanked him and gave him her necklace. You and Mondatta walked after him but once you arrived, he was in the middle of talking.
"—he three of us will be unstoppable!" And there he goes. Excited, he dragged you and Mondatta to Cairo.
Hol Horse hid behind a building while Mondatta hid under a crate beside you. "I'm getting sick of those faces... Listen Mondatta!" As he was about to kick the box, he decided against it knowing that you would beat him up if he did. He throws the box away instead, revealing the very introverted child. Mondatta crawls to the box and hid in it. You sigh and kneeled in front of the crate, comforting the kid. "We need to talk about your new prediction... Are you sure it's 100% foolproof?" You rose the box a tad bit to look at Mondatta. "M-my premi—" Hol Horse flicks a small rock at him, in return, you smacked his leg which did not affect him at all "My premonition are 100% accurate" He mocks. "Is that what were you gonna say?"
"Wow! Hol Horse you should be the book of premonition instead!" Hol Horse rolls his eyes. "W-well they are accurate...yes." You slowly let go of the box and stood up to look at the book. "Are you expecting us to believe this load of Bologna?" He re-reads the comic.
"We found them!" Shouted Hol Horse. "Joseph, Jotaro, Polnareff, and Avdol."
"Darn it!" Hol Horse fumed. "They're almost to Master Dio's manor!"
You snicker. "Do you really call him "master"?" He grumbles "We don't have a choice." and continues reading.
"Gosh-darn bafoons. They'll get a bullet between the eyes!" Hol Horse's mind was full of bad thoughts. "You're gonna pay for what you did to my brother!" Mondatta was very furious. But, Hol Horse and Y/N, couldn't use their stands which puts them at a disadvantage.
Because of this, they got caught but Y/N comes up with the greatest plan to make their great escape which includes something intimate!
"It just cuts off from there! Like hell what's this great plan Y/N comes up with?!" He drops the book and impatiently summons his stand. "Why can't I just shoot them with [Emperor]? It'll be much faster that way."
"Geez, it'll come just believe in the stand, Horsey." Now you don't really believe in the stand and the way it added intimate in the sentence was ominous but you have nothing to lose besides half of the money Hol Horse offered you in defeating the crusaders. Mondatta lifts up the box to take a peek. "It's premonition...! Y-you're not gonna-gonna be able to shoot... yes. " He grabs the book and slowly puts down the box. "I-I know from pe-personal experience that if-if you try to go a-against the comic you'll get consequences..! It's fate... Yes." He stutters, repeating "yes" in a couple of sentences. You lean on the wall and watch them talk about the consequences of the book. "Hang on! Your brother nearly died because he followed the comic!" He points at Mondatta. And Mondatta continues to explain the reason behind it.
They look both nervous and distressed about the situation but you were just looking forward to that great idea that the book says. "Then what now..." He grunts and looks at the crusaders. From where you stood, you weren't able to see them but you could see Polnareff approach him— oh— oh no.. This is not good. Mondatta quickly hides under the crate again.
Polnareff comes from behind and places his stand's èpèe¹ on his neck. "Don't move!" He moves it closer to Hol Horse's neck. "Unless you wanna be lanced." Hol Horse bit his cigarette in anxiety and let out a surprised grunt. "Ho—how the hell did you—" His fingers twitched as he tried to summon his stand but Polnareff was quick to notice and struck him from the back with his stand. Hol horse cough out blood as his cigarette fell.
You need to help him quickly.
Then finally it came, the idea, as it said in the premonition. It was absurd but it'll get the job done..... you hope it was right... Sprinting to Polnareff, you pushed him to the wall. Although, it wasn't hard enough to knock the air out of his body but enough to withdraw his stand. With hands still on his chest and standing on your tippy-toes, you kissed him. At first he was shocked but he closes his eyes and kisses back after a while, getting into the kiss. You side glanced at the stunned Hol Horse and smacked him upright in the head with the help of your stand.
Understanding what you meant, he grabbed Mondetta and ran away. You broke the kiss and ran after them. Although you struggled to catch up since the kiss took so long, making you ran out of breath.
The French man stares in the direction you ran, in absolute lovestruck. Ignoring the calls of his friends, he sighs lovingly. "Oh mon Dieu..." He hopes he gets to see you again.
"Y/N, What was that?!" You leaned on the wall, catching your breath. It looks like [Tohth] worked its charm. "I- hah- was saving your hah- hide just like the book said." Hol Horse didn't look tired from the running at all. 'He must be used to it.' He grumbles and puts Mondetta down. "And I can't even get a hug from you..." He huffs and grabs a cigarette. Mondetta shuffles away but you stopped him. "What does the comic says next?"
"Oh uhm..." He opens the book and you kneel beside him. Hol Horse loomed behind the two of you looking at the book and totally not at you.
The trio ran away, trying to think of another plan. "Curse that Frenchie!" Hol Horse furiously crosses his arm. He was very jealous that Polnareff got a kiss from Y/N instead of him!
Hol Horse crosses his arm and looks away. You snicker. "Really Horsey? You got jealous of that?!" You burst out laughing and held your stomach. He groans and grabs the book. "Ha- He was- pfft- a really good kisser too." You teased him while he flips the pages of the book, face flushed.
"What's the next premonition?!"
☆☆☆
1. Apparently, Èpèe is the sword that [Silver Chariot] uses.
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dearestaeneas · 2 years
Text
Accident [Blackbonnet]
Word Count: 2091
tw: guns
-> This was an anon request for an OMFD fic of Ed taking a bullet meant for Stede! I was very lucky to have a lot of freedom so I hope you’re able to enjoy some POTENTIALLY UNEXPECTED TENSION! Here it is as its own post.
---
Six months. Six months passed since he’d found his way back to The Revenge. The days blended completely, a reality that was somehow worsened for stretches at a time because, he soon realized, he wasn’t sleeping. He was grateful when his body finally gave out from pure exhaustion every couple days, because it lulled him into a sudden and dreamless sleep. He’d remembered, with a dry and humorless laugh, offering the possibility of death as the next big adventure to Izzy. He didn’t think that anymore, and found that big surprising. Surely death would seem all the more appealing now, but something nagged in his head. I need to prove I don’t need him.
The crew seemed to be enjoying themselves. When Izzy wasn’t barking orders, which was admittedly more rare than anyone would have liked to see, there was a generally agreed upon sense of ease. Frenchie and Jim were even beginning to accept the hand fate dealt them. Of course, this acceptance was only the byproduct of deep feelings of defeat, but they found some comfort in whispering stories and jokes to one another in an attempt to keep the other going. Originally, Jim advocated for a realistic view of the situation with the reasoning that it would save both of them from any kind of desperate hope. They tried that, for a time, but it became almost immediately evident that that wasn’t doing either of them any good. So instead, at night, they'd point to stars and try to remember the constellations Stede taught the crew about. This activity brought forth stories, like Jim and Olu up after dark and accidentally finding themselves in the same part of the ship Buttons would moon bathe in, or Roach interrupting Stede’s lesson to argue that there’s no way that one’s a bear and causing a tense debate among the rest of the crew, much to Stede’s disapproval.
Each night, while Frenchie and Jim pointed out the stars and joked, below decks the dread pirate Blackbeard stared blindly at a landscape portrait of a lighthouse. At first, it caused nothing but heavy sobs, but, as he realized now, it filled him with a profound numbness. It hurt so much to look at that the pain somehow canceled itself out. The blending of the days happened so seamlessly that this previously nighttime-exclusive activity became something he did every moment the crew was not engaged in a raid on another vessel. He found he liked the plundering even more now, because it was the only time he felt anything: a pure, blind rage. The rage he had at the world had a purpose there, and could be taken out on nameless victims. He didn’t have to humanize himself, either: he became a creature that relied on muscle memory alone.
Six months. Six months that felt instead like a series of excruciatingly long days. One the sixth month and the 15th day, Ivan appeared in the doorway, pale and sweating. The crew knew to never seek out Blackbeard, and to instead wait for him to come to them. Izzy was the only person to enter his quarters, and it wasn’t necessarily Blackbeard’s choice: it was simply necessary to grant him access. “What do you want?” His voice croaked. It was jagged from disuse, and speaking low, he could feel the itch in his throat from the strain screaming during raids caused. Ivan kept starting sentences and losing the words halfway through. Blackbeard stood, storming toward him with the utmost purpose. “We need you,” he said finally, when the other pirate was within arm’s reach.
One the main deck stood Stede. Izzy’s sword was firmly pressing into his Adam's apple, Izzy himself caught mid-shout: “Don’t you dare help them up!” Fang held a rope ladder and was in the process of unfurling it to throw over the edge. “Ed…” Stede said helplessly. He sounded tired, and relieved, and delighted, and scared. It was too much to handle. He wanted to let out all the rage he’d been letting propel him from one day to another, and realized with the greatest frustration that none of it wanted to come out. He was stuck: Blackbeard would scream and thrust the hilt of Izzy’s sword, pushing the blade through the man’s neck, but Edward felt the bile rising in his throat. He could feel his eyes start to sting and wanted nothing more than to scream out all the hurt. You left me! He wanted to shout, imagining the tears streaming down his face and streaking the charcoal around his eyes to leave. You promised! You promised and then you left me!
He stood, silent. After what felt like an eternity, he said “Come.” Turning on his heel, he headed back into the quarters. The rest of the men were left alone on the deck, glancing between themselves, all in a state of shock. Even Izzy froze where he stood for a moment before leading Stede roughly after the captain. In the doorway, Blackbeard looked up. “I didn’t tell you.” Izzy stumbled through an explanation, shutting up in an instant at the cold look he was at the receiving end of. “Just shout if you need me,” he offered quietly, backing out of the room.
“I won’t.”
Ed couldn’t face him yet. He stood, his back to the doorway, and stared at the lighthouse. He realized numbly that this might be the first time he’d actually really looked at it. “I threw your things into the ocean. All of it,” he said. It was intended to be hurtful, as if he were rubbing salt into some kind of wound. The problem with this was that he couldn’t imagine a wound Stede would be carrying. He wasn’t the one abandoned. He turned, expecting to see the Gentleman Pirate inspecting the room he used to call home. Instead, he was staring directly into his eyes. He hadn’t taken eyes off of Ed since he first followed Ivan out of this very room.
“I’m sorry.”
He hated him, and then hated himself even more to realize he didn’t hate him at all. He turned back to the painting, and walked with purpose to the bed, clutching one of the few pillows and throwing it at Stede with all his strength. Despite it only being a pillow, the pirate using all of his strength would knock the wind out of anyone regardless of projectile. Stede accepted the blow, recovering almost immediately. He realized he was angry that Stede could look at him with such sadness and such understanding. He looked at him with so much love.
Knowing he couldn’t shout at the risk of jeopardizing the image he’d built up again, he moved until he was within inches of Stede’s face. “You left me.” He said it between gritted teeth, each word a hiss. His eyes were wild. “You made me think you fucking cared about me.”
Stede set his jaw, silently praying for the other man to yell, to scream at him like he deserved. In his time on the tiny boat, bringing the rest of his crew home, he played this moment in his head over and over. I deserve anything and everything he does to me. He repeated this mantra day and night, following the rhythm of the oars. “I do care about you. Of course I care about you.”
“Liar!” Ed’s frustration was visible. Stede could see him fighting back tears, his hands shaking as he tried to figure out how to hold himself. It was clear he had so much energy waiting to be burned: his entire frame shook. Stede closed the gap between them, hugging him tight. Ed tried to fight back, pushing and clawing, but Stede held steady. He finally gave in, heavy sobs rattling his chest. They stayed that way forever with Stede’s arms around him and Stede’s voice quietly explaining everything that had happened in the last six months, this story drawn out by the hundreds of ‘I’m sorry’s he added.
“It doesn’t make it right,” Stede said finally.
“No, it doesn’t,” Ed agreed.
“Can we try?”
He remained silent, feeling Stede breathe against him. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Fang and Ivan helped to raise the rest of The Revenge’s original crew to the deck. Jim and Frenchie were buried alive beneath the bodies of their crewmates, their laughing protests being drowned out by tearful greetings. Izzy paced up and down the deck, anxiously watching the reunion. He was comforted knowing Blackbeard was back, and Bonnet’s reappearance, however inconvenient, wouldn’t be a distraction. He was devastated, then, to see the two co-captains emerge from the captain’s quarters walking quietly side by side, but with an air of comfort between them. There was a tenseness, but not the one he’d been expecting or hoping. “We have a lot of work to do,” Ed addressed the full crew quietly.
“No,” Izzy came forward. “You’re finally back we-”
The taller man turned, his dark eyes hard. “We have a lot of work to do,” he repeated. The tone was just as hard as his eyes, his jaw tense. Behind him, the rest of the crew shrank back. Except, of course, Stede, who placed a hand gently on Ed’s shoulder. “No one’s denying that.”
“Oh, fuck this.” Izzy didn’t carry a gun, he relied exclusively on his sword. Luckily for him, and unfortunately for everyone else, he was especially skilled and lethal enough with only one weapon. Due to this fact, it was a surprise when he reached for Blackbeard’s own gun, plucking it right from its holster on his belt. He cocked it, pointing the barrel directly at Stede. “I’m not doing this again. I won’t.” He knew that he’d have to act immediately, because not only would Ed be able to easily wrestle the weapon from him, he’d also be unable to go through with it if Ed were given the chance to try and talk him down. He loved him, in his own difficult way. It was his job to protect Blackbeard when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do it himself.
A deafening bang. Izzy felt as if he was opening his eyes for the first time during this exchange, and almost vomited at the sight of Stede Bonnet covered in blood, and standing. On the deck of the ship lay Edward Teach, holding his side and panting desperately. Stede dropped to his knees, rolling the man over. Izzy heard him shout orders to the rest of the crew, who nodded and immediately went to work. They respected him, Izzy realized. He also realized that the only thing protecting him at this moment was the simple fact that Stede was preoccupied, frantically bandaging Ed and helping Roach in whatever way was necessary. Izzy stood perfectly still, dumbly watching the scene unfold in front of him. He watched as Oluwande, Fang, Stede, Jim, and Wee John carried Blackbeard with the utmost care, taking centuries just to lift him off the ground so as to not disturb the fresh bandages. The entire crew disappeared into the quarters, their voices frantic and worried but drowned out by Stede’s, which was confidently assuring them he’d be okay. Izzy was left completely alone with the puddle of his captain’s blood, deep red and unforgiving, and the gun still smoking in his hand.
When he finally emerged from the quarters, Izzy saw that his unbuttoned shirt, previously white, was stained red. Blood spatter freckled his bare chest and face. Without a trace of hesitation, he stormed up to Izzy and violently pulled the weapon from his hand, flinging it behind them. There was murder in his eyes. “I want you gone,” he growled. “I want you off my fucking ship.”
“I…I…”
By this time, the crew had begun to file out of the quarters, standing behind Stede. They were awaiting orders. In a swift motion he was thrown from the ship, landing in the water beside the small vessel Stede and the majority of the crew arrived on. “I’ll even give you that.” He watched as Izzy clawed his way, soaking wet, onto the little boat. He breathed heavily as he watched Izzy row slowly away, knowing he was still trying to finish the sentence he started before Stede had him thrown from the deck. It didn’t matter now. He turned on his heel, heading straight to where Ed lay. Roach and Wee John sat beside him. He’d be fine, they assured Stede repeatedly.
“We’ll all be fine,” he replied softly.
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