My bestie and I had a Good Omens watch party last night. He's an incredibly busy person so he hadn't seen season 2 yet, nor was he aware of ANY of the plot. Needless to say, we were both a MESS afterwards. He asked me how does one recover? I have not yet found the answer. Maybe you don't?
And then he said he was off to make bread to calm down. Bless ❤️
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New Sad Gay Playlist Alert
Happy Pride, protect queer art aka my new sad gaylist(gay playlist) for Red, White and Royal Blue! I said I wouldn't do it but I did it anyway...and listen to my other playlists if you like sad music and gay things.
find my other playlists sticky'd here or on my spotify profile
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I think neil gaiman fandoms are the only place that you can see „6000 years of pining“ and be „yeah that make sense I mean it’s just cannon“ and I thibk it’s weird that this happens TWICE we love the immortal boyfriends
(Good omens and the sandman!!)
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Characters: Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, First Meetings, First Kiss, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon Compliant, Historical Inaccuracy, Crusades, Muslim Character, Catholic Character, Action/Adventure, Star-crossed, True Love, Destiny, Soulmates, Immortality
Summary:
It's the time of the Crusades. A Catholic and a Muslim, both gifted with immortality, find themselves drawn together despite everything in the world wanting them to be apart.
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This is my version of how Joe and Nicky first met. Please excuse the no doubt several historical inaccuracies. I did do some research but there was only so much I was going to do for a 3000 word story! Hopefully nothing is too egregious.
This story contains no spoilers for the movie, and nor do you need to have watched it to follow this.
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The first death was agony. Returning to life after he was cut down by a crusader felt like a blessing. Yusuf Al-Kaysani prayed and gave thanks for the blessing he’d been given as he woke from what he thought would surely be his eternal rest.
When he revived from the second death as his horse crushed him in battle, Yusuf prayed again after he’d wriggled out from under his bloody and broken mount.
By the thirtieth death, Yusuf stopped praying. His resurrections, which at first were treated as miracles, were greeted with increasing suspicion by his fellow soldiers. They began to suspect he was cursed, or perhaps he was a demon instead of a man. So one night when he could take the whispers no longer, he deserted his comrades by the light of the moon, nothing but pack and scimitar and a vast expanse of a world gripped by holy war.
That was when the Italian began to stalk Yusuf. He’d dreamed of this man, in flashes and with vivid detail. He saw an Italian monastery high on a cliffside, where the switch was employed with the same frequency as benediction, and where the young men, discarded by their families, were honed into weapons of righteous fury.
Yusuf drew the man in his notebook on precious reserves of parchment, sketching his aquiline nose and heavy brow, dedicated to capturing his essence. There were pages of charcoal sketches of his clear blue eyes, brimming with righteous fury beyond which lay a poet’s soul damaged and reshaped by shame and guilt into the tool of a distant Pope.
One night, by the light of a small fire in the rubble of a destroyed village mosque, Yusuf was engrossed in the study of the man’s hands on the pages of his book. He saw long, elegant fingers and struggled to capture their form. His palms were calloused from wielding a longsword, the clang of metal as it struck metal over a hundred battles banishing softness from him one strike at a time.
Yusuf didn’t know his next death was upon him until he looked down to see the angry point of a broadsword piercing his heart from behind. He never saw his face, but he knew the man in his sketches had taken his heart.
Keep reading.
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How badly would you kill me if I said parallels
Cause like...
One of them left for the sake of the "greater good" while the other is left behind to pick up the pieces of a failed relationship they tried so desperately to turn into reality.
The other wants to leave their old life behind but will eventually have to confront the fact they haven't always been who they are now.
One of them has spent their entire life thinking they could live up to the expectations of those around them, that they could finally be worthy of the love of their creator.
The other has a healthy support system but will never use it, not when the one person they cared about more than anyone in the entire (multi)universe has left them to bare the burden of something far greater than they should.
In the end, only one of these relationships will end well, and we won't know for the next 3 years.
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