#a love that defined and redeemed you

[helldritch6211]

Its not that i dont ship mel and jayce its just the fact they both deserve so much more than each other….

Like LOOK at them i love them so much… but Mel deserves someone who understands and supports her goals and jayce… well he clearly wants something else?? Whatever he and viktor are nobody knows but them.

[eugeniedanglars]

shes the love of my life it must be said

[lazylittledragon]

i can't believe i'm dealing with the barry bluejeans effect AGAIN where the character who broke my heart the most in dndads s2 was canonically dressed as the joker 75% of the time

[vaggieslefteye]

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ↳ anonymous asked: HUSK and ALASTOR or angel and valentino?

[crows-of-buckets]

Once i finally finish act three you guys WILL be hearing about my new silliest little gal. My Durge. I love her. One hundred evils upon her soul. But she kisses her buff tiefling wife and she feels better

For now take these drawings of her. I cannot stop drawing this bitch naked and covered in blood. also I've been trying to figure out why that top drawing looks off I FORGOT HER HIGHLIGHTS IN HER HAIR FUCK

[lesamismorts]

got to the blupjeans voidfish duet scene on my relisten

[searchingforserendipity25]

playing around in the sandbox of queerplatonic benítez/lawrence.

and i'm not even talking about stifled desire or weird ecstatic sex dreams, no matter how fun that is. and i'm not even talking one-side pining in any direction, or innocent xiv blurring the edges of what devotion and worship stand for in cardinal lawrence's eyes.

i mean a real, an honest-to-god secret third thing. taking the whole brothers-in-christ thing in a bold new contemporary direction.

deeply intimate spiritual communion happening regularly during walks, and over paperwork, and behind bulletproof glass. all day every day. affirming conversations and touches and looks.

it's passionate. it's intense. it's something like infatuation. it's something like falling in love, quick friendship, human adoration - and nothing like that either.

it's a very clear understanding, a sharp and sudden and very strong connection, and it alters the world around them and it is not like they have a great deal of references for this.

so! naturally, a thought follows on the other. an assumption follows on the other, and as they have taken to an encompassing honesty, it doesn't take very, very long before they hash it out.

it is, all things considered, startlingly easy. nerve-wracking, of course, but there's a route to these things, and if kissing is not entirely pleasant, then it's not as if either of them has a great deal of experience.

they do break their vows together. schedule it in advance and everything!! a whole fraught arc involved, about repression and choice and sacrifice, and recontextualizing celibacy and chastity, and affirming their closeness as a vow in itself.

and it is. fine.

a spiritually meaningful experience! pleasurable in its way! but kinda mid, as far as generally meaningful experiences go. the quiet of a room with the air conditioning on is less erotic than most of their confessional sessions, and the not-take-backies of it give it a weight and pressure that isn't very enjoyable, even going into it together.

not really worth repeating. it's possibly lawrence regrets it at once and mourns his lost chaste chivalric ideal with real anguish, is filled with remorse for besmirching his friend and diminishing their companionship to something base. can't stand to look as benítez afterwards; can't stand to live inside himself.

it's possible benítez has to face the turmoil in his heart with being largely sex-repulsed even about the person who knows his self, body and spirit, the most. to find he prefers pleasure by himself, or not at all; that he does not find truth for himself in the idea of marriage or romantic affection.

no more now than he ever has before, even though he had believed it - even though he does love lawrence with a singular focus he hasn't felt before, as near to possessive attachment as he has ever come, and without the redeeming element of any defined, traditional term to it.

amatonormativity will get you anywhere, even in the vatican!

possibly there's a spin on the last-minute rush to the airport/train station/bus stop on the way to a tiny monastery in the alps to keep the love interest from flying off to london/new york/a tiny monastery in the alps, and an heartfelt heart to heart.

possibly benítez is wearing the same clothes he did when he arrived in rome, unexpected and unwanted. the first time he went out into the world as vincent benítez.

it's incredible, he says (it is possible, even likely, that his voice breaks a little), how much people don't really see him, when he's not wearing white. out of everyone in the world, no one looks at him as clearly as lawrence does. does this have to change, just because they have seen each other's nakedness and desire?

they are not adam or even, or noah's children; they should not need to break their ties because of shame. there is no harm in loving as they do, as there is none in loving otherwise. how just is it to argue otherwise, to work for an encompassing church, while casting themselves aside? he should leave rome, if he feels it is what he is called to go, but not because of shame.

lawrence comes back. lawrence takes his hands with his trembling fingers in apology and says, wrenched with love, with pity: oh vincent. no, it is not fair at all, is it?

he has been a fool. he has lived his life in ignorance of himself, and so narrowly he did not notice it. life to him was the church or marriage, and to have one was not to have the other, and nothing in between seemed possible, or correct, or permissible, or genuine.

they make it work! the times they wash each other's feet after particularly trying days, or the hand massages, and all the quietly ecstatic praying with fingers wound around the same rosary?

those can be sensual experiences too. there's closeness there. also possibly they try out guided masturbation involved from across the confessional grid, but that's a whole other thing.

[wchswift]

ଓ Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Logan Howlett x latina!fem!reader Summary: you're finally dating Logan, and this year for Christmas, your family, not very mutant-friendly, invites you and Logan to the holiday. Content: fluff, a lot of feelings, slightly angst, established relationship, complicated parents but they redeem themselves, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 5k (I got a little carried away) A/N: like I said christmas prompts are all my head has been coming up with lately lol. This one is totally self indulgent... I'm sorry (not really). I really think Logan would get along great with my latin family so this is what I wrote! Merry Christmas to you all!!! 🎄

mdni 𖤐 18+

The world outside was muffled in white. Snow blanketed the grounds of the X-Mansion, smoothing over the jagged chaos that typically defined the lives of its residents. But here, in this room, everything felt still, warm, and safe.

You blinked awake slowly, your cheek resting against the solid plane of Logan’s chest. His steady breathing was a low hum beneath your ear, and the arm he’d slung across your waist anchored you in place, as if he thought you might disappear if he let go.

For a while, you stayed like that, letting the lazy warmth seep into your bones. Mornings like these were rare. Most of your days started with some crisis or other, but the mansion had gone blessedly quiet for the holidays. Even the younger mutants seemed to understand the sanctity of this lull, their usual chatter and chaos replaced with soft laughter and the occasional sound of Christmas music echoing faintly through the halls.

Logan shifted beneath you, his muscles flexing under your cheek as he adjusted his grip. The calloused pads of his fingers traced absentminded circles on your back, a tender gesture you’d come to treasure.

“You’re quiet this morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “Something on your mind?”

You smiled, too comfortable to move. “Just appreciating this.” You turned your head slightly, nuzzling against him. “Don’t ruin it by talking too much.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Fair enough.”

The quiet stretched out again, the two of you wrapped in the soft cocoon of blankets and each other. You let your thoughts wander, enjoying the rare chance to simply exist without the weight of responsibility pressing down on you.

And then your phone buzzed.

You groaned, burying your face against Logan as the sound shattered the tranquility. “No,” you mumbled. “Not yet.”

Logan reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the offending device without letting you go. “You gonna answer this, or am I tossing it out the window?” he asked, holding it just out of your reach.

You sat up reluctantly, frowning at the screen. The familiar number made your stomach twist, a mix of excitement and apprehension knotting your insides.

“It’s my family,” you said softly.

Logan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just handed you the phone, his steady gaze enough to ground you.

You hesitated, then swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“¡Mija!” Your mother’s voice filled the line, bright and cheerful as ever. “You sound tired. Are you resting enough? Eating well?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Hi, mamá. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Good. Listen, I have some news.” Her tone turned conspiratorial, and you could almost picture her leaning closer, as if you weren’t miles away. “We want you to come home for Christmas. Your papá and I were talking, and it’s been too long since we’ve all been together.”

Your chest tightened. It had been too long. Ever since your powers had manifested, there had been tension, distance. But in recent months, your family had made an effort to mend things, to accept you for who you were. And now, this invitation felt like another step forward.

“I’d love to,” you said after a moment, your voice softer now. “I really would.”

“Good, good. And—” She hesitated, then plowed ahead, her excitement spilling over. “Bring your boyfriend. Logan, right? We want to meet him.”

You froze, your gaze flicking to Logan, who was watching you with mild curiosity. Your mother’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, the cozy warmth of the room felt stifling.

“Mija? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” you managed, your throat dry. “I’m here.”

“Well, bring him. And don’t worry—he’s family now, too. We’ll take care of him.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. After a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set the phone down, your hands trembling slightly.

Logan tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing. “What was that about?”

“My family,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “They want me home for Christmas. They want us home for Christmas.”

His eyebrows lifted again, but there was no hesitation in his response. “All right.”

“All right?” You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re okay with going?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged, his tone casual, but you could see the flicker of something deeper in his expression. “It’s your family. They’re important to you.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “I just… I don’t know how they’ll react. I mean, they’ve been better about accepting me, but this is different. And you…” You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Logan reached for you, his hand warm and solid as it cupped your cheek. “Hey,” he said softly. “Stop overthinking it. If they’ve got a problem with me, that’s their issue, not yours. But if you want me there, I’m there.”

His certainty steadied you, and you leaned into his touch, releasing a shaky breath. “Of course I do! I do want you there. I just—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted gently. “Stop worrying. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay. Together.”

Logan leaned back against the pillows, pulling you with him until you were curled up against his side again. The knot of anxiety in your chest loosened slightly, replaced by a tentative sense of hope for having Logan by your side.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, and for a little while longer, the two of you stayed wrapped in the quiet, preparing for the journey ahead.

When it was no longer possible to extend the moment with Logan, you got up and started your day. Since it was close to Christmas, the mansion was quieter and less crowded, giving you a chance to relax alone for a while.

The snow seemed endless, a quiet ocean blanketing the world outside. From the wide windows of the X-Mansion’s common area, it stretched out in every direction, softening the edges of the landscape until it looked like something out of a dream.

You sat on the arm of the couch, watching the scene unfold with the same stillness it seemed to demand. Logan was a shadow in the corner of the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. His presence was like gravity—solid, constant, something you could always feel even when you weren’t looking.

But now, his gaze was fixed on you, sharp and unwavering.

“You’ve been quiet all morning,” he said, breaking the silence. There was no accusation in his tone, only a quiet observation. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You sighed, your breath fogging up the window for just a moment before it vanished. “It’s nothing.”

He let out a low hum, the kind that told you he didn’t believe a word of it. He crossed the room in a few steps, coming to stand beside you. His reflection joined yours in the glass, his dark eyes meeting yours in the faint, distorted version of the world.

“Try again,” he said, his voice softer now.

You looked down at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “It’s just… the idea of going home, after too long. And bringing you with me.”

His reflection didn’t waver. “You don’t want me to come?”

“No!” The word burst out of you too quickly, and you winced at the sharpness of it. “That’s not it. I already said, course I want you to come, Lo. It’s just—” You hesitated, your thoughts tripping over each other in their rush to the surface. “I don’t know how they’ll be. My family, I mean. They’ve gotten better about… about everything, but it’s still complicated. And you going too—”

You glanced at him, struggling to find the right words. “You’re not exactly… subtle, Logan. You literally have mutant written all over you. You’re like a storm—intense and impossible to ignore. And I love it so much, but my family, they’re…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“They’re the kind of people who smile through awkward silences and sweep anything messy under the rug,” you finished weakly. “I just—I don’t know if they’ll know what to do with you. And I don’t want them to make you feel like you don’t belong. I don't want them to treat you differently.”

Logan was quiet for a long moment, his gaze still fixed on you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, like the rumble of distant thunder.

“You think I care what they think?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“They’re your family,” he said simply. “I’m not going for them. I’m going for you.”

There was something so unshakable about the way he said it, as if the answer was as obvious as the ground beneath his feet.

You let out a shaky laugh, your breath fogging up the glass again. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is,” he said, and the quiet conviction in his voice made your chest ache. “They don’t have to like me. Hell, they don’t even have to understand me. But if they love you, then they’ll respect the choices you’ve made. And if they don’t—” His reflection smiled faintly, a wry twist of his lips. “Well, they’ll have to deal with me.”

You shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your own lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “But I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”

Something in your chest unfurled at his words, the knot of anxiety loosening just enough for you to take a deep breath. You leaned against him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. He smelled faintly of pine and smoke, like the forest itself had come to life and taken human form. It was so comforting.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“For what?” he asked in a low voice, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck.

“For being you.”

He huffed a soft laugh, and you felt his lips brush against your hair. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now, sweetheart.”

You laughed, the sound lighter now, like the snowflakes falling outside. For the first time all morning, the weight in your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The road stretched ahead of you like an endless ribbon, winding through snow-draped trees and frozen lakes that glittered faintly in the pale winter sunlight. The hum of the car engine was the only sound for a while, a quiet rhythm that matched the pulse of your thoughts.

Logan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console where his fingers occasionally brushed against yours. It was a casual touch, almost absentminded, but it anchored you to him in a way words never could.

You watched his profile as he drove, the sharp lines of his face softened by the morning light. There was a quiet intensity about him, like a storm that seemed less threatening and more comforting. He was like a force of nature, capable of demolishing obstacles while also providing a protective haven —a force of nature that could tear down walls and shield you from the worst of the world all at once.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked without taking his eyes off the road.

You smiled faintly. “Are they worth that much?”

“Probably more,” he said, his lips twitching into the smallest of smirks. “But that’s all I’ve got on me.”

You laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in your chest. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come. I mean, from where we started… to this.”

Logan glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “This isn’t just ‘far.’ This is everything.”

His words were so simple, so unshakable, that they left you momentarily speechless. He had a way of doing that—cutting through your overthinking with a clarity that left no room for doubt.

You turned to look out the window, the snow-covered landscape blurring past. “You know, when my powers first showed up, I thought… I thought I’d never have this. A life. Someone like you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but you felt his hand move, his fingers intertwining with yours on the console. “Guess I’m lucky you were wrong.”

You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. When you looked at him again, his eyes were fixed on the road, but there was something unguarded about his expression—a glimpse of the man behind the claws and the growl.

“Logan…”

He shook his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t go getting mushy on me now, sweetheart. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

You snorted a laugh, leaning back in your seat. The warmth of his hand in yours stayed with you, a quiet reassurance that no matter what waited at the end of this journey, you wouldn’t face it alone.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Your family’s house was just as you remembered—warm, inviting, and alive with the kind of chaos that only the holidays could bring.

Lights twinkled along the roofline, and the faint sound of music spilled out into the crisp evening air. As Logan helped you with the bags, the front door swung open, and a wave of noise and warmth hit you like a tidal wave.

“¡Cariño! ¡Por fin!” Your mother was the first to greet you, wrapping you in a hug so tight it stole your breath. “I’ve been waiting all day!”

“Mamá,” you managed, laughing as she fussed over you.

And then her attention shifted to Logan. Her eyes softened, though her tone remained brisk. “And this must be Logan.”

He nodded, his posture relaxed but his expression carefully neutral. “Ma’am.”

Your mother’s lips twitched, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she turned to usher you both inside, chattering about the food, the decorations, and how your father was already working on his second plate.

The rest of the family followed in quick succession, a whirlwind of introductions, hugs, and rapid-fire questions. Logan handled it all with a quiet patience that surprised even you, his gruff demeanor softening just enough to put them at ease.

Your younger cousin tugged at his sleeve, wide-eyed. “Are you really Wolverine? Like, claws and everything?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing at you as if to ask, 'Should I?'

You shrugged, trying not to laugh. “Might as well get it over with.”

With a sigh, he extended one hand, the metallic claws sliding out with a faint snikt. Your cousin’s eyes widened further, her jaw dropping.

“Whoa…”

The rest of the family crowded around, their curiosity breaking any lingering tension. Logan didn’t say much, but the faint smirk on his face told you he didn’t mind the attention nearly as much as he pretended to.

As the evening wore on, the chaos began to settle. The smell of food and cinnamon filled the air, and the house hummed with laughter and music. Logan had drifted to a corner of the room, where your father showed him an old photo album.

You watched them from across the room, your heart swelling at the sight of Logan fitting into this world you’d been so afraid to share with him.

“Mija,” your mother said, pulling you aside. Her voice was softer now, her eyes warm. “He’s good for you. I can see it.”

You smiled, your chest tightening with emotion. “He is. More than I ever thought I deserved.”

She cupped your face, her hands warm and familiar. “Don’t ever think that. You deserve everything, and more. I wish I had told you that more often. I'm sorry, nena.”

For the first time in a long while, you believed her.

Dinner had barely ended when the music started, a lively rhythm spilling from the speakers and filling every corner of the house. Chairs were pushed back, plates cleared away, and the living room became an impromptu dance floor.

You watched from the edge of the room, laughing as your cousins dragged reluctant uncles and aunts into the fray. The Christmas lights blinked in time with the beat, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the scene.

And then you felt a hand on your wrist.

“C’mon,” Logan said, his voice low and warm.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You? Dance?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been around long enough to pick up a thing or two. Don’t make me regret this.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you onto the floor. The music swelled, and for a moment, you forgot the chaos, the noise, everything but the warmth of his hand on yours and the steady strength of his other hand resting lightly on your waist.

He wasn’t perfect—his steps were a little stiff, and his timing faltered now and then—but his confidence made up for it. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as your family whooped and cheered around you.

“Not bad for a grumpy old man,” you teased, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the music.

“Careful,” he warned, his smirk widening. “We are at your parents' house but if you keep this up, that won't stop me from punishing you." He whispered against your ear for only you to hear, his voice firm but with a hint of humor.

You laughed, the sound pure and unrestrained, and for the first time that night, the weight of your nerves began to lift.

Later, as the music faded into softer melodies and the crowd thinned out, you found yourself in the kitchen, refilling glasses and helping your mother plate desserts.

“That Logan,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “He’s different.”

You froze, unsure of where she was going with this. “Is that… bad?”

She shook her head, her hands deftly arranging cookies on a platter. “No. Just… surprising. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, you can tell he means every word. And the way he looks at you…” She paused, her gaze softening. “You deserve that kind of love, cariño. The kind that doesn’t waver.”

Your throat tightened, and you turned back to the counter, suddenly very interested in the stack of plates waiting to be carried out. “Thanks, mamá.”

But before you could continue, the sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Your aunt appeared in the doorway, her ever-present smile firmly in place.

“There you are!” she said brightly, stepping into the kitchen as though she hadn’t just been eavesdropping. Her gaze flicked between you and your mother, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “What are we talking about?”

“Logan,” your mother replied, her tone light but guarded.

“Ah,” your aunt said, her smile sharpening at the edges. “He’s… an interesting choice.”

You stiffened, the warmth from your mother’s words quickly fading. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” your aunt said breezily, but there was a calculated edge to her voice. She picked up a cookie, examining it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the room. “It’s just—well, a man like that doesn’t seem very… stable.”

Your mother frowned, "Paloma don't start…" she said with a warning tone, but even so, your aunt continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “No, I just mean, he's a mutant! And with his background—and those claws… He seems a little aggressive too, It must be exhausting, keeping up with someone like him.”

The words hit like a slap, dredging up the old insecurities you’d worked so hard to bury. Your grip on the platter tightened as you struggled to steady your voice. “Don't you dare! You don't know anything about him. Logan is not aggressive, he is a good man, kind and caring.” you said evenly, refusing to rise to her bait.

“Of course, I’m sure he is,” your aunt said, her smile widening. “But he is still a mutant, don’t you think—”

"And my daughter is also a mutant, Paloma, so you better stop this, " your mother replied, her face completely serious now.

"I didn't mean to offend, I'm sorry," she said sarcastically. "But it's funny you should say that since you never were okay or wanted to deal with the fact that she was a mutant either."

Your breath caught your throat, chest tightening as you felt anger take over.

"You're right, I lost my relationship with my daughter just because I didn't understand her, and I was wrong. All I want most is to make up for it and change. So I won't accept any more of your prejudice, not with my daughter or with Logan." Your mother's voice was firm and steady, her posture confident and despite the moment I smiled to see the change in her. The way she defended you.

“Everything is fine? Anyone got something to say about me?”

Before your aunt could answer, the deep, gruff voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the room. You turned to see Logan standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.

Your aunt faltered, her confidence wavering under the weight of his gaze. “I—no, of course not,” she stammered, her smile faltering as she fidgeted with the cookie in her hand.

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, and his voice was calm but firm as he added, “Good. We wouldn't want to cause a scene on Christmas, right?”

Your aunt nodded, muttered something about needing to check on the drinks, and scurried out of the kitchen, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

Logan crossed the room in a few strides, his hand finding yours. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, grounding you. “You okay?” he asked softly. “Need a hand?” This time he looked at your mother, his gaze light and tone gentle.

Your mother stepped aside with a knowing smile. “She’s all yours.”

You smiled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Logan’s hand tightened around yours. “C’mon,” he said, his voice low and meant only for you. “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

The night had settled into a comfortable lull by the time Logan led you outside. The snow had stopped falling, but the cold still bit at your cheeks and turned your breath into faint clouds in the air.

“Busy night,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

You laughed softly, the sound muted by the quiet of the world around you. “You handled it pretty well.”

He shrugged, his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. “Your family’s all right. Loud, but all right.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The silence stretched out, not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, he turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “You were scared about bringing me here,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble.

You let out a breath, watching it curl into the night air. “I didn’t want it to go wrong—for you, or for them. I thought maybe… maybe I was asking too much.”

Logan stepped closer, his presence like a shield against the cold. “You never ask too much from me,” he said firmly. “But you’ve got to stop carrying all this by yourself. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

His hand found yours, the roughness of his fingers a contrast to the gentleness of his touch. “You don’t need to protect me. And you sure as hell don’t need to protect them from me. That’s not how this works.”

Your throat tightened, his words cutting through the tangled mess of your insecurities. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

He tipped your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours. “You won’t.” The certainty in his voice was unshakable, and it felt like he was holding more than just your gaze—it felt like he was holding you together.

"I can't lose you, Logan," you breathed, desperation lacing your words. "And sure as hell I wasn't going to lose you because of my family." As he leaned closer, the frigidness of the world outside seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth radiating from him. His forehead grazed yours, a gentle touch that sent a shiver of connection coursing through you.

His breath was warm, his voice a whisper that carried only for you. “Whatever happens, it’s you and me. That’s not changing.”

The words wrapped around your heart, soft and unyielding all at once. “I love you,” you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.

He smiled then, a rare, fleeting thing that lit his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I love you too,” he said, the rough edges of his voice softening with the weight of the truth.

And then he kissed you, slow and deliberate, like there was nothing in the world but this moment. His hands moved to your waist, grounding you, making you feel like everything would be okay.

Later that night, the house was quieting down. The children had been sent to bed, though the muffled sound of giggles hinted they weren’t asleep just yet. Most of the adults had retreated to the kitchen for coffee and one last helping of dessert. You sat with Logan on the couch, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows across the room.

The space felt smaller now, more intimate, as if the noise and chaos from earlier had wrapped itself around the house and left behind only warmth. Logan had his arm draped along the back of the couch, and you leaned against him, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice low, “I’ve been around a long time. Seen a lot of families. Never really… been part of one.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, surprised by the confession. “Not even before—?”

He shook his head, cutting you off gently. “Never had anything like this. The noise, the mess, the way they’re all in each other’s business.” He chuckled softly. “It’s good. Feels like life.”

You reached for his hand, your fingers lacing with his. “They’ve accepted you, you know. You might not think it, but they have.”

He looked down at you, his brow furrowed. “How can you tell?”

You smiled. “Because they’re treating you exactly the same way they treat me—asking too many questions, teasing you, shoving food at you like it’s the answer to everything. That’s how they show love.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, his eyes glued to your intertwined fingers. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “It’s nice. It’s… good to feel that. To feel like I’ve got a place.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, your heart swelling at the vulnerability he rarely let show. “You do. With them, and with me.”

The sun was barely rising when you woke the next morning, the soft glow of dawn spilling into the room. Logan was still asleep beside you, his breathing slow and even, one arm draped possessively over your waist. For a moment, you just watched him, marveling at the way the years seemed to fall away when he was at peace.

The sound of children’s laughter broke the stillness, followed by the creak of floorboards and the distant rustle of wrapping paper. Logan stirred, his eyes blinking open as he looked at you.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, leaning down to brush a kiss against his lips.

He smiled against your mouth, his hand moving to the small of your back to pull you closer. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

The two of you made your way downstairs, where the living room had transformed into a chaotic wonderland of presents and decorations. The children were tearing into their gifts with wild abandon, while the adults watched with coffee cups in hand and fond smiles on their faces.

“¡Mija! ¡Logan! Ven acá!” Your father waved you over, a brightly wrapped package in his hands.

You sat on the floor beside Logan as your father handed you the gift. “This is for you two,” he said, his voice warm.

Inside was a framed photo of the family taken the night before, everyone crowded together under the Christmas lights. In the corner, Logan stood beside you, his expression reserved but his hand resting on your shoulder.

“We wanted you to have something to remember this Christmas by,” your father said. “So you’ll always know that you have a place here. Both of you.”

You glanced at Logan, your throat tight with emotion. He met your gaze, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders, gently pulling you against him as he gave you the smallest of nods.

By the time the car was packed and the goodbyes were said, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the snow. Your family stood on the porch, waving as Logan started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

The road stretched out ahead of you, the silence in the car a comfortable contrast to the noise of the past two days. You leaned back in your seat, watching the snow-covered trees blur past.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you said, glancing over at Logan.

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands steady on the wheel. “Could’ve been worse. Your uncle Pablo was about two shots of tequila away from a fight, though.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’s always like that. But he liked you, you know. They all did.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but the faint curve of his lips told you everything you needed to know.

As the miles stretched on, you found yourself reaching for his hand, your fingers lacing together over the console. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re happy,” he said after a while.

You smiled, resting your head against the seat. “I am.”

He glanced at you, his expression soft. “Good. You deserve that.”

And as the car continued down the snow-dusted road, you realized that you finally felt completely at peace.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[dailyeffectiveprayer]

You are not defined by your failures but by God’s redeeming love.

[autisticrosewilson]

It's not that I hate fanon or that I think fanon is inherently less intelligent or morally wrong, but a LOT of fanon is based in racism, misogyny, and classism that I feel like a lot of you accept without question.

WHY is Duke (Daredevil, son of a god, has never once allowed himself to be defined by anyone's actions but his own) relegated to a background role, only characterized by reacting to the whims of other bats?

Why is Babs - Birds of Prey leader and backbone of the hero society, tells Bruce to fuck off and die 4 times a day and is constantly ruining her relationships by being biased and unhinged - Gotham bound, the mature responsible mom of the group who never argues with Bruce and never gets in trouble?

Why is Dick, both a tactical genius and master manipulator, a himbo only appreciated for his sex appeal? Especially when he is both Romani (group of people demonized and condemned as hypersexual by their nature alone) and an SA victim.

WHY is Damian "feral" and "uncivilized" despite being raised as a literal prince? Half of you treat him like a sociopath with no hope of redemption for an unfunny three second joke and the other half of you go full throttle into Bruce's white savior bullshit so that Damian can be "redeemed". Y'know when you're not villainizing Talia and acting like Dick is his other parent, actually.

WHY is Stephanie - extremely intelligent detective who can't stand Bruce and has a living mother she loves - lumped in as another member of the Batfam, a blonde ditz who only cares about prank wars and emotionally supporting Tim?

WHY is Cass - intelligent, a grown adult, suicidal perfectionist - emotionally intelligent, primarily existing to support the characters around her, immediately accepting of everyone she meets regardless of her own morals?

Why is Bruce the golden standard? Enough so that though everyone in the fandom could agree that he's an emotionally unstable wreck, being considered "the most like him" is seen as a compliment and not the HIGHEST insult? Everyone would agree if I said that Bruce purposely self sabotages his relationship half the time and the other half he simply does things without caring about the emotional impact it will have on people because he has to be the smartest in the room, but if I said that makes him a shit partner and emotionally abusive parent the fandom would bend over backwards to argue with me.

Why is Tim "the best Robin" when Dick Grayson invented the mantle, it is impossible for someone to embody the spirit of Robin better than him because he made it and he created what being Robin means. Maybe Tim is the best in Bruce's eyes, but what Robin means and who has the right to give it over was a significant thing they argued about. Tim the high school drop out, and yet also somehow the smartest? Tim "the most like Bruce" except no he's not, that's Cass. Poor neglected, abused, victimized little Timmy (the rich boy at the elite boarding school with loving albeit busy parents and almost every instance of him being victimized by another character has either been racist bullshit - The Al Ghuls and Rose Wilson- or a complete 180 for the character that made no sense when examined through the lens of prior characterization - Jason for instance.)

Almost every fanon trope that gets passed around like gospel seems to deliberately push POC characters and women into the background and strip them of interesting complex traits and stories, usually for the purpose of fitting them all into bite sized incorrect quote character types and uncomplicated narrative roles that are not only completely divergent from canon, but primarily exist to prop up the two rich white boys.

Also the insistence that Bruce, a 20 year old at the time, should actually be excused for how much he mentally and emotionally fucked Dick up because really they're more like siblings! While deciding that Dick at the same age was actually the perfect candidate to be Damian's new parent/guardian...have you lost the fucking plot you don't even make sense to yourselves.

Okay I lied at the beginning, I do hate fanon. You guys are so uncritical about the media you consume it is BEYOND just letting people enjoy things and have fun. I guess it's one thing if you KNOW this stuff isn't canon and UNDERSTAND why these tropes are problematic and you engage with it as such, it's fine read and write what you want, but just spreading the same nonsense around and parading it around as "better than canon" (version of the character so bland and boring you've somehow made the old white men at DC look like geniuses in the art of representation) is just infuriating.

[midnightsslut]

religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.

taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.

the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.

when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.

side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?

the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.

the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.

ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.

[lovelessrage]

This post goes out to unfeeling aros. To aros that choose to reject love and aros that don't see it as a part of their life. To aros that had no choice in what love they struggle to or can't feel at all. To aros with low or no empathy, to aros that can't fit the ideal of "still caring in a different way". To aros that very rarely or will never "love in other ways". To aros that can't, won't, or don't want to be defined by how much they love their friends or family instead.

Being aromantic is not something to "redeem".

Being aromantic should not be something you have to dress up in "buts" and "ifs" about feeling in other ways.

Being aromantic means supporting the aros around you, not punching down because you found a way to be accepted more broadly and don't mind who gets left behind. It's all of us or none of us, and that includes aros who can't love, can't care, and won't fit the image of a "good aro" who's perfectly platonic, familial, caring and loving. Even the most solitary aro you can think of is deserving of a judgement-free life.

[miscellaneouzz]

More Vox Machina meta time bc I feel like people do NOT talk enough about how complex Pike and Scanlan’s relationship is. First off the show is very good at steering away from the typical he’s-annoying-so-she-eventually-gives-in misogynistic approach a lot of those types of dynamics have. Like it initially comes off as just cute and flirtatious until their dynamic ironically becomes the least romantically driven of the main ships in a way that’s far more layered than I expected. It always feels like Pike’s complicated feelings come with observing Scanlan from a distance, she’ll flirt back and play along but ultimately wants to see the person he COULD be, the more sincere and earnest side to him (which can also be tied to Zerxus’ comment about her taking pride in “redeeming” her friends).

But then from Scanlan’s perspective, becoming the person he “could” be means distancing himself from Pike completely, because he’s in love with her and in his mind he sees that as an example of him clinging to his old habits of “finding all the wrong ways” to fill his emptiness. His scene with her on the balcony felt like such a culmination of both their complicated feelings– him relying on those coping mechanisms and Pike recognizing that– and I think that’s part of why he cried and why Pike pulled away at the last second. After that scene, we pretty much see Scanlan stop pursuing romantic interest in Pike for the rest of the season, but she’s still the only person he’ll be vulnerable with.

So then comes this heartbreaking irony that Pike’s been wanting more sincerity from Scanlan for a while now, only for Scanlan finally opening up more about his feelings to include him saying things that end up hurting and pushing away Pike. Because now Scanlan being more vulnerable and sincere means finally admitting he doesn’t view Vox Machina as his “real” family and that he never thought he mattered when he was with them and I don’t think that’s something Pike was truly ready for. And in the end Scanlan is still defining his worth purely on his relationships with others– if he’s no longer pouring his identity into romance/sex, he’s gotta pour it all into his newfound parenthood. He’s still flawed and not in a way where everything just hinges on Pike to “fix” him.

I think when it comes to the romantic relationships in the series it’s the one I’m most invested in from a character perspective. They’re the only pairing that’s yet to sincerely confess or discuss feelings for each other despite how much their relationship focuses on the need for sincerity and it’s so interesting. Like through the relationship struggles of Keyleth x Vax and Percy x Vex, we still see them be more open and upfront with both the conflicts and resolutions of their feelings for each other.

Pike & Scanlan are the only ship we’ve seen neither for, neither a straightforward conversation on the conflict of their relationship itself nor a sincere resolution to their feelings. And I think it has a lot to do with the parallel you can make about their own crisis of identity. Their character motivations and struggles with identity are not entirely dependent on each other as Scanlan has a tumultuous relationship with parenthood and Pike with her faith yet they impact each other so deeply.

There’s a lot more to say BUT for now… onto whatever season 4 brings for the gnomes!

[starbright349]

You Didn't Know? (Adam X Seraphim Reader)

In the celestial realm of Heaven, where ethereal beauty and divine beings reigned, lived a Seraphim angel named (Y/N). She had the sacred duty of caring for the children who had passed away and ascended to this heavenly abode. (Y/N) was a compassionate and gentle soul, radiating a warm light that comforted the departed souls in her care.

In this divine paradise, an unexpected love story unfolded between (Y/N) and Adam, the first man created by the Almighty. Adam, despite being the progenitor of humanity, had a penchant for mischief and a reputation for being a total prick. Yet, somehow, the celestial forces intertwined their destinies, and love blossomed between the seemingly mismatched pair.

After a few hundred years of dating, the two got married in Heaven. It was a beautiful wedding, and Adam didn't have to worry about losing his third and final wife to Lucifer, since she couldn't leave Heaven.

One day. when Lucifer's Daughter, Princess Charlie Morningstar. Came into Heaven for a meeting; (Y/N), Sera, and Emily greeted her at the gates of Heaven. "Greetings daughter of the Morningstar. I am Sera, the high seraphim of Heaven. You're gifted to be here." Emily squealed and walked up to Charlie.

"Hi! I'm Emily, the other seraphim. You can call Em, Emi, E, whatever you want. I go by anything." Emily giggled nervously, she wanted to say more but (Y/N) stopped her and put her hand on Emily's shoulder. "Emily. We talked about this; we don't want to scare them off, now do we?" (Y/N) turned to Charlie. "Hello Princess. My name is (Y/N), I'm the other, other seraphim. It is our duty and pleasure to welcome you to Heaven."

(Y/N) and Emily showed Charlie and her girlfriend Vaggie around Heaven for a short while. (Y/N) even led and showed them to their room where they would be staying until the trail.

It wasn't until then that Charlie noticed her wedding ring, she found it strange since Sera, nor Emily had a ring. "(Y/N), may I ask you a question?" "Of course, Princess. Ask me anything?" (Y/N) said with a smile. "Are you married? Because I noticed that ring on your finger and none of the seraphim's have it." (Y/N) looked at her ring finger, she smiled as a wave of nostalgia hit her.

She remembered how Adam confessed his love to her, the day he proposed to (Y/N), and the day they got married. All of Heaven showed up, Adam removed his mask for that day, Sera walked (Y/N) down the aisle, Emily was her maid of honor, and God himself was the one that pronounced them husband and wife.

"Yes, I am married. My husband and I have been for about almost 100 years now." Charlie's eye lit up with joy, "Oh~. And who is this lucky guy, hm?" (Y/N) chuckled and walked to the door. "You'll see him, I'll be sitting next to him during the trail. Good luck to you both." (Y/N) said and closed the door behind her.

*A few hours later*

As the trail was about to start, Charlie and Vaggie took their seats, while (Y/N) flew and sat down next her husband Adam and his friend Lute. "Hey babe." Adam said and gave (Y/N) a kiss on her check. Charlie started to (Y/N) in shock, and all (Y/N) could give was a little smile and shrug her shoulders.

Charlie leaned to Vaggie. "I didn't know such an asshole like him HAD a wife."

After everyone was here Sera spoke "We're gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into heavenly realm by means of this 'Hazbin hotel', Princess Morningstar?", Sera said wanting Charlie to speak up.

(Y/N) looked down to Charlie, holding hands with her husband underneath the booth. "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as-" before Charlie could speak Adam interrupts her "Objection, lame and unoriginal". (Y/N) sighed at his immature behavior and let go of his hand and bumped his chest gently with her elbow.

"Sustained. No further dictionary references please." Sera asked with a kinda sad look. "Right." Charlie was flipping through her cards making Adam roll his eyes. "If you have actually evidence, then show it already." He asks, glaring at Charlie. "We have a patron right now and he's making incredible progress."

Charlie defended and (Y/N) smiled, "Really? Then tell us Princess, who is this lucky patron?", (Y/N) asked. "Angel Dust" Charlie spoke. "Oh yeah, the porn demon. Yeah, he's totally worth being redeemed". (Y/N) looked at Adam. "Adam! Language!" Adam gave (Y/N) a confused look. "What?"

(Y/N) suddenly stood up, "Well then, if you know so much…what do you think it takes to get into heaven?", she spoke. It was quiet until Sera asked if Adam was okay.

He scoffed as he pulled out a golden paper from his pockets and a quill, "Give me a fucking moment, okay?", he then started writing and gave Vaggie the paper as she read it out loud, "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?", (Y/N) looked at Adam with a raised eyebrow and sat back down. He shrugged "Uh, yeah? Sure, got me here...didn't it? Right babe? Sera?", Adam ask as he looked his wife then Sera, seemingly questioning himself. Sera sighed before saying: "He was the first human soul in heaven."

In the following hours Charlie showed everyone the improvement of this soul called Angel dust. He did everything what Adam wrote on his list. He was selfless, he stopped one of his friends from stealing, and he stuck it to that awful man called Valentino, but nothing happened. Sera only sighed as she wanted to declare the trail as a failure and that we will see what brings someone to heaven when the first soul arrives. (Y/N) sat there with my head hanging.

She felt bad for Angel Dust, Charlie, and all of the other demons who wanted to try and make themselves better, especially when she looked over to Emily, who held the paper that Adam had written earlier with a sad look.

(Y/N) and Emily had always been very close, they considered each other to like sisters. Which why (Y/N) had asked her to be her maid of honor at her wedding, and if the time came, (Y/N) would be Emily's maid of honor when she would meet that special person.

Emily: But she was right, Sera. She showed us a soul can improve.

(Y/N): (Y/N) stood up again and flew next to Emily) He saw the light, Sera.

Emily: Checked all the boxes that you said would prove a person deserves a second chance.

(Y/N) Emily flew around the court room.)

(Y/N): Now we turn our backs, no second glance?

Sera: It's not as simple as you think.

(Y/N) and Emily looked up and Sera and flew up to her.)

Sera: Not everything is spelled in ink.

(Sera held (Y/N) and Emily's hands.)

Charlie: It's not fair, Sera!

(Vaggie places a hand on Charlie's shoulder)

Vaggie: Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head.

(Charlie pulls away)

Charlie: No! Don't you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways turn the page, escape infernal blaze.

(Y/N) and Emily were on each side of Sera while still flying the air.)

Sera: I'm sure you wish it could be so. But there's a lot that you don't know.

(Lute interrupts Sera.)

Lute: What are we even talking' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.

(Adam and Lute flew to Charlie, as Adam held her face.)

Lute and Adam: There's no question to be posed! He's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that Hell is forever?

(Lute and Adam, flew on top of the crystal ball)

Adam: A man only lives once; we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to…

(Adam flew off the crystal ball and stood Infront of Charlie,)

Sera: Adam…

(Sera's eye widened but she was interrupted by Adam.)

Adam: Come down and exterminate you.

(Y/N) and Emily's eyes widened.)

Emily and (Y/N): Wait!

Adam: Shit…

(Y/N) and Emily flew down in front of the crystal ball)

Emily: What are you saying? Let me get this straight.

(Y/N): You go down there and kill those poor souls?

Charlie: You didn't know?

Adam: Whoops

Lute: Guess the cat’s out of the bag.

Adam: What’s the big deal?

(Y/N) looked up at Sera)

(Y/N): Sera, tell us that you didn't know…

Sera: I thought, since I'm older it's my load to shoulder

Emily: No!

(Y/N) put her hand on Emily's back for comfort)

Sera: You both have to listen; it was such a hard decision.

(Sera flew down to (Y/N) and Emily)

Sera: I wanted to save you; the anguish it takes to do what was required.

(Sera held (Y/N) and Emily's hands, she had flames in her eyes. (Y/N) and Emily looked at Sera with shock for a moment, until their looks turned angry.)

(Y/N): To think that we admired you, well we don't need your condescension.

(Y/N) and Emily tore their hands away from Sera, while they both flew in the air.)

Emily: Were both not children to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretension?

(Y/N) looked at Adam, who gave a worried look, she flew Infront of him.)

Adam: Babe listen-

(Y/N): Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you're purveying?

(Y/N) flew away from Adam, who had sadness in his eyes. She flew next to Charlie and Emily.)

Charlie: That's what the fuck I've been saying!

(Chalie held (Y/N) and Emily's hands. They flew on top on the crystal ball.)

Emily, Charlie & (Y/N): If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie!

(Adam and Sera were trying to talk to them. But Emily and (Y/N) wouldn't listen.)

Sera: Girls

Adam: (Y/N)

Emily, Charlie & (Y/N): If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky. The rules are shades of gray, when you don't do as you say. When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again.

Charlie: I was told not to trust in angels.

(Filled with rage that Charlie had turned his wife against him, he decided to reveal Vaggie secret.)

Adam: By her?

Lute: Ha! She should know.

Vaggie: We should go.

Charlie: No! Don't you see? We've come so close. Look at them fighting, they're at each other's throats.

Adam: Don't you act all high and mighty. Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?

Vaggie: Don't, Adam please!

Adam: What's the fuss? Why hide the fact that you're an angel just like us?

(The Crystal ball revealed Vaggie's old look as an exorcist angel. Charlie stared at it in shock, and fell to the floor)

*End of the song*

(Y/N) looked at Adam with disgust in her eyes, Adam looked at (Y/N) but his smirk was quickly feeling off his face when he saw (Y/N) with a disappointed look.

He tried to reach out and explain, but (Y/N) stopped him and flew up next to Emily and Sera. Sera had to breath in out to collect herself, she then spoke. "I'm sorry, but the court finds there is no evidence that souls in Hell can be redeemed."

(Y/N) and Emily were disappointed, they looked at each other with worry. Adam then stated that when the extermination comes, he's coming to Charlie's Hotel first. He snaps his fingers causing Vaggie and Charlie to be sent back to Hell

"Charlie don't give up on this!" (Y/N) said from above as Emily chimed in "We will figure something out, we promise!" (Y/N) held Emily in her arms, trying to comfort her. "That was uncalled for Adam." Sera said will looking down at him. "Yeah, but did you see the looks on their fucking faces." Adam said while laughing, but it stopped when he saw (Y/N) disappointed face again.

Adam face softened for a moment, "Sorry." That was thing said until he flew up Infront of (Y/N) face while she was still comforting Emily.

"I'll see you at home tonight, right babe?" Adam said while putting his hand on (Y/N)'s face. (Y/N) just pushed his hand away. "You shouldn't expect me to be home tonight... or any night for that matter." Adam wanted to try and convince (Y/N) to come home, but he knew it would be a bad idea with other seraphim's watching.

He flew away, leaving (Y/N) with Emily and Sera. It was a short silence when (Y/N) released Emily from her grasp. Emily spoke, "Extermination of human souls. Demon or not there is no reason to be doing this."

Sera spoke, as they eye of her hair and halo opened. "They were upraising, girls. It is my position as the head Seraphim to protect these souls at all costs."

Sera's eyes closed as she placed her hands on (Y/N) and Emily's shoulders. "It is your job to keep them happy and joyful and (Y/N)'s to care for the children of Heaven." "How can we fulfill our jobs when we now know that were causing so much pain to souls down in Hell. And me knowing that my husband is keeping secrets from me, his wife." (Y/N) said.

Sera quickly had answer for it. She told (Y/N) and Emily to let her about this and told them to go back to their jobs.

That night, (Y/N) made true to her word and refused to come home. Adam laid on the bed that he and (Y/N) shared, waiting for his wife to come home so he could explain himself. He never meant to keep secrets from her, he just wanted to protect her and everyone else in Heaven.

And despite his fuckboy nature, Adam really and truly loved (Y/N) and would anything for her. Even if it meant killing demons just to protect her.

[pollkien]

CURUFIN PROPAGANDA:

It looks like he’s sideeyeing Orodreth I think that’s really funny

Called Orodreth stupid behind his back in the Lay of Leithian

#1 Eöl hater of all time

#1 Beren hater of all time also

Daddy’s most specialest boy. So special that both of his names are about his dad. This slut has absolutely no identity outside of his father and I think this is extremely appealing to some

“he alone showed in some degree the same temper and talents. He also resembled Fëanor very much in face.” I mean if you resemble the hottest elf ever you must also be hot.

Absolute cunt. Just a huge asshole. I love that for him

Actually in a draft, Fëanor called on Curufin and a few other of his most trusted servants to burn the ships at night <3

His only redeeming quality is when he told Eöl off that one time

Says the funniest line in all of Silm. “By the laws of the Eldar I may not slay you at this time” is incredible. He invented “Had It Not Been For the Laws of This Land”

Can usurp your heart ;)

Married! Canonically fucked! Unlike most other people here

This also means Curufin is a dilf.

Set evil in Celegorm’s heart <3

If his dad was so so hot Curufin must also be very hot

NOT racist! He was friends with Telchar and wrote much about the Dwarves and Khuzdul. #DiversityWin

Curufin the Crafty more like Curufin the Cunty

He schemes so hard. Do you like scheming boys? He is THE scheming boy for you.

Has a named weapon!

“Eöl, however, Curufin loved not at all. Curufin was aware of Eöl's resentment towards the Noldor, and that Eöl was using his friendship with the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains, which Curufin was jealous of, to stir up unfriendliness against them. Regardless, Eöl was still allowed to cross through East Beleriand, though a constant watch was placed on Nan Elmoth as they mistrusted his doings and goings.” No fucking way DUDE YOU ARE ALSO FRIENDS WITH THE DWARVES OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS

“In The Earliest Annals of Valinor, the translation of Curufin's name in to Old English is given as Cyrefinn Facensearo and defined as "[Curufin the Crafty, O.E. cyre 'choice', facen 'deceit, guile, wickedness' (a word of wholly bad meaning); searu 'skill, cunning' (also with bad meaning, 'plot, snare, treachery'); facensearu 'treachery'.]"” someone fuck this whore right now

Sorry i am now just reading his TG page “In relation to Celegorm, Christopher Tolkien notes that Curufin is "the more longheaded schemer, standing behind his brother and prompting him - it is clear ... that Celegorm has some authority — or is felt by Curufin to have some authority — that Curufin lacks"[23]:247 and that Curufin was "the wickeder (as he was certainly also the cleverer) of the brothers".” Oh my god.

He has quite the long TG page. Not propaganda just very surprising. Did you know his name shows up 30 times in the published Silm, 34 if you include the name index

ORODRETH PROPAGANDA:

Got called stupid behind his back in the Lay of Leithian

I refuse to believe that Orodreth is brother of Finrod. Or that Gil-galad is Fingon’s son. Which means Orodreth is TWICE the dilf Curufin is.

He also fucked! Had an unnamed Sindarin wife! Very cute

Comes from the fairest house of Finwë <3

The actual king of Nargothrond. Sorry Curufin

You KNOW Orodreth was thirsting after Túrin. How is this related to his sexiness? I don’t know.

Warden of (Finrod’s) Minas Tirith until Sauron overran the fortress. RIP

“Orodreth was noted as being among the Lambengolmor, "the greatest, kings, princes and warriors" among the Elves” Somehow I am doubting the legitimacy of this claim given every other king, prince, and warrior there was but it’s cute

Kicked out C&C from nargothrond but did NOT kill them! How merciful and kind <3

Unfortunately listened to Túrin’s terrible advice. Silly Orodreth.

“Orodreth translates to "mountaineer".[15] Paul Strack suggests that it is a combination of orod ("mountain") and reth ("climber")” that is so fucking cute.

“In the poem, on the other hand, Orodreth emerges as hostile and formidable, and his character is carefully outlined: he is quick to anger (1973) but his wrath is cold and long-enduring (2133–4), he is seldom moved to pity (1969, 2134), grim-hearted and deep-counselled (2132–3), but capable of deep love (1970) as also of fierce hate (2135). Afterwards, as the legends developed, Orodreth underwent a steady decline into weakness and insignificance, which is very curious. Many years later, when meditating the development of the Túrin saga, my father noted that Orodreth was ‘rather a weak character’; cf. the Narn, p. 160: ‘he turned as he ever did to Túrin for counsel’. Ultimately he was to be displaced as the second King of Nargothrond (Unfinished Tales p. 255, note 20). But all this is a far cry from the hard and grim king in his underground hall depicted in the poem; Felagund had not yet emerged, nor the rebellious power of Celegorm and Curufin in Nargothrond (see further p. 246).” Oh dear. Poor Orodreth

[sexierthanneilsjorts]

Im gonna start this by saying im pretty neutral aboht Thea, but all the debates have got me thinking. I honeslty think the biggest problem is thea just isn't there...like at all.

Listen, Canon Nicky makes me want to claw my skin off. He's my least favorite character in the series. It's a jump scare every time I reread this series, but Nicky is in the book enough qe get to learn some of his redeeming qualities. He's loyal and kind and loves his cousins. The base of Nicky's character is a young adult who left safety and love to protect two kids he didn't know. The Fandom can work with that.

Thea on the other hand, is barely mentioned, shows up to yell at Kevin, accuse Jean of getting his ass beat for sleeping around (not matter your belief on why she said it, this is what she did), and then not believe Kevin when he tells her the truth. There is no more to build her character than these few defining moments. Not even from Kevin, like Nicky talks about Erik constantly. We know Erik loves and literally finically supports Nicky from across the ocean.

The only of thing we know about Thea is that she met Kevin when he was 13 and she was an adult.

I'm not counting extra credit because as much as I love reading extra pieces author wrote, most of the readers won't and you can't expect people to form an opinion based on that.