#its in their code to argue about everything
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The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Three
☁︎ notes: sorry it took so long to get this one out 💛
Clementia really is the goddess of mercy and healing but I made up the part about the feathers. There will be more half real/half made up references to mythology so buckle in lol also Eris is kind of Cardan-coded in this chapter
☁︎ warnings: talk of injuries, talk of Beron's abuse, drunk characters
☁︎ word count: 1.9k
☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist
☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @mybestfriendmademe @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove
The ring summoned Aya again nearly a week later, just as she had finally made it back to her dorm room in the Healer’s wing. Lessons had run late, after which she had been called to a family dinner by Thesan. Her feet were sore and the pair of clean pajamas waiting on her bed called to her. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of what sort of injuries had prompted that ring to glow, regret sinking its claws deeper into her gut. Another long night of keeping Eris’s soul tethered to his being?
She heaved a deep sigh, shouldered her bag once more, and winnowed away from her cozy room.
The designated winnow spot was in Edana’s private courtyard, surrounded on all four sides by her rooms. The Lady had carved a spot out of the wards - or had bribed someone to do it. Edana or one of her two trusted guards were to wait for Aya in the courtyard. The written copy of the bargain details instructed that if anyone else were to ever greet her, she was to winnow back to the Dawn Court without speaking to them.
All very calming, naturally.
Tonight, one of Edana’s guards met Aya in the courtyard, which she considered a good sign. The guard did not say anything, only nodded in greeting before turning on his heel. Aya shivered in the Autumn chill and trailed after him. No one had told Aya the guards’ names yet, and she was too shy to ask. They were a little intimidating, stone-faced and armed to the teeth. Obviously, they cared about Edana's safety a great deal, and she had not stopped to wonder what they thought of the Lady hiring a strange healer and adding her piece to this hidden game board.
The dark-haired man led her through Edana’s sitting room to the stone passageways. She followed him through the dim, winding halls, finding them to be as deathly silent as the first night. She was beginning to wonder if the whole house had a curfew, or if they had all simply adopted this code of silence as a means of survival. Everything had been tainted such a suspicious color after that first night.
His feet made no sound against the stone floor, even in those heavy, clunky-soled boots. Aya followed suit, keeping her steps light, though her satin slippers would not have made much noise anyways.
When she crossed through the wards into Eris’s rooms, a wall of commotion wrapped itself around her, such a contrast from the silent hall that it made her jump. Eris was cursing and arguing with his mother, the second guard attempting to aid her in holding him down. Aya’s widened eyes flicked to the couch by the hearth where a bruised and bleeding man lay unconscious. Or sleeping. He was nearly a copy of Eris - redheaded and tall, with broader shoulders and bulky muscles.
“They got drunk and had a fight,” Edana sighed as Aya made her way to the big bed.
“Bastard had it coming,” Eris spat loudly, trying again to free his arm from his mother’s grasp."
“Stay still,” Edana snapped, “You were stabbed, for Mother’s sake.”
Aya gasped at that, and Eris turned his head toward the sound. He had not even noticed her come in, too focused on earning his freedom. When his gaze landed on the healer he let out a cry of delight and held a bloody hand toward her without even so much as wincing.
“All is well,” Eris pronounced, “Clementia has arrived.”
“Hush,” Edana hissed, “Or your father will hear you.”
Aya’s skin felt hot, her stomach dropping in fear of the knowledge that the High Lord was at home tonight. She chewed her lip and set her satchel on the edge of the bed. Eris was still as a statue now, watching her with interest.
“Clementia is an angel of mercy,” Edana said to Aya, rolling her eyes as other guard chuckled. “He likes to read mythology.”
Aya’s cheeks burned and she looked down at the heir, his amber eyes fixed on her. She shook her head and grabbed a wet rag from the side table. She was familiar with Clementia’s legend but she had not made the connection of who Eris thought she was.
“Did you receive my prayer of thanks?” Eris asked, a hand clutched to his chest like he must brace himself in her presence. He still did not wince as she pulled up his shirt and began to clean his injury. It was shallow for a stab wound, but it certainly would not heal well if he started thrashing around again. She could humor him if it meant he stayed calm.
The second guard, blond and bearded, started to laugh at Eris’s smitten gaze, but Edana shot him a look that shut him up. The Lady turned her attention to her other son, out cold on the couch.
“Yes,” Aya said to Eris, gently moving away the hand that attempted to cover his wound. His bloody fingers wrapped around hers and held on. It was likely he was so drunk that he was not feeling the full effect of his injury. “It was lovely. Please stay still, Eris.”
“Yes, angel,” Eris breathed.
Aya kept her eyes on her work and did not dare look at the glowering Lady or her giggling guardian. She knew it sounded like a pet name. But she didn’t think she minded much, not with how lovely it sounded falling from his lips.
Eris stayed quiet now, obedient to her every command. He watched her with such reverence in his eyes, as if still surprised she had appeared, worried she may go away again at any moment. If only he knew she was just another healer from the Dawn Court, no benevolent angel of mercy.
She wondered if he’d ever truly know her or if all of their meetings would be this way - inebriated or delusional from blood loss. And she hoped for both their sakes that the next time would be different. And maybe a part of her hoped to meet him in a state where she could really learn something about him. Something to compare to the rumors. All she knew at the moment was that he liked mythology. And that he fought like a hellcat when drunk.
“Beron would not approve of them fighting, would he?” She asked as she worked, her voice soft. Every movement tracked by those diligent amber eyes.
“Not in this manner, no,” Lady Edana answered, returning to Eris's bedside, “Not without his command, at least. He sees more honor in besting each other with strategy.”
Of course he would. Only Beron’s hand could inflict pain. That was how he stayed in control. Everyone else must impress him by playing his games perfectly. Aya had never expected to gain so much knowledge about the Autumn Court’s High Family and everything she learned made her more grateful for her own court and Thesan’s gentle rule. It also illuminated another aspect of Edana's secrecy.
This foolish behavior was a stark contrast to the tales and rumors of the Autumn sons, with their father’s brutality and their mother's brains. It certainly dimmed the intimidation to see that hulking brother passed out, mouth open and drooling on the velvet couch. Whatever Aya saw gave her power. And that golden ring took it away again. Edana did not yet know that she had picked someone with such an ambivalent heart. Capable of indifference and yet undecided.
When Aya finished dressing Eris’s wound and cleaning his filthy hands, she slipped a sleeping pill into his water and gave his shoulder a pat.
“Sleep well Eris,” She said, eager to get away from his relentless stare. Then she turned back and added sharply, “And listen to your mother.”
She shifted, about to make her way to the brother on the couch, but Eris’s voice stopped her.
“May I have a feather?” He asked, his voice remarkably soft compared to his terrible volume control from before.
“What?” Aya asked, hoping their audience did not notice the break in her voice. She knew the myth. That Clementia bestowed a feather upon her favored for luck.
“May I have a feather for luck?” He asked again, the gleam in his eye so hopeful it was almost painful.
For a moment, she considered it. It wouldn’t mean much, it would quiet him down and that would be that. But the weight of the Dawn Court customs would not release her. The tips of her ears grew hot, thinking of plucking a feather and handing it to him. Feathers were for honor, promises, and love. Even in the far friendlier, casual environment of her court, it wouldn't be seen as appropriate.
“You’re lucky enough just to be in her presence, you oaf,” Edana muttered, shaking Aya from her stupor. Eris frowned but he didn’t argue. He looked resigned, like he agreed with his mother's sentiment.
Aya silently thanked Edana and turned her attention toward the couch once more. The brother was not in terrible shape, with just a scattering of bruises and small cuts that would heal by morning. Luckily, he was far too drunk to remember anything by tomorrow. She hoped that Eris would not remember any of this either.
She had not failed to notice Eris’s split knuckles and she wondered what this brother had said to provoke him so. She might have asked, as they had humored all of her questions so far. But it seemed that neither Lady Edana nor her guards wanted to meet her eye as she inspected the younger Vanserra. As if there was something about this fight they were not saying. Or perhaps they were just embarrassed.
Aya told herself she did not care either way. She had decided, throughout the course of this visit, not to ask any more prying questions or sleuth or try to solve anything. She could not help her curiosity, but Thesan had ordered her not to meddle. And every answer to every question sat heavy like a stone in her heart. She did not want to carry all of that with her, anyways. So she finished patching up the anonymous brother, left a tonic one for the now-sleeping Eris, and returned to the comfort of the Dawn Court.
⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆
The next morning, Eris’s shame pestered him as incessantly as his headache. Twice now, this poor healer had had to witness him in such a pathetic state. Gods knew what he had said last night. His mother wouldn’t tell him. She told him it was his punishment for being so foolish that he had to wonder what embarrassing things he may have said.
The only hint he got was in the note the healer had left him, beside a tin of fresh balm for his scars and a tonic for the hangover.
Drink lots of water, avoid stretching your wound. I look forward to your next prayer of thanks.
Your angel,
Aya
Eris blushed and cursed himself for it. He hadn’t known her name and had gotten into the habit of referring to her as Clementia in his mind. It must have slipped out.
He remembered little glimpses of what she looked like. Warm brown skin, eyes of lilac-grey, and small, capable hands. His fingers went to the wound in his side. Once again, he had been healed impeccably. This one had left a scar barely an inch long.
He had yet to thank her for all that she’d done and he wished that he could. But he did not know where to reach her or what a proper gift might look like.
Without him even realizing, without even having property met, she had begun to haunt his thoughts. Like a guardian angel, only a shadow of wings at the edge of his vision.
#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar#eris fanfic#eris fanfiction#eris fic#eris vanserra fic#eris vanserra fanfic#eris vanserra fanfiction#eris vanserra#pro eris vanserra#acotar oc#dawn court oc#acotar healer oc#eris acotar#eris x oc#eris vanserra x oc#dawn court#dawn court healer oc#the dawn court#thesan#autumn court#the Autumn Court#lady of autumn#the lady of Autumn#beron vanserra#vanserra brothers#the benevolent#acosf
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I'll never write it so gonna post the abandoned idea for it here (also as a reminder, all my fic ideas are for grabs unless stated otherwise so if someone wants to pick it up, be my guest)
Red strings of fate/Soulmates AU
You are connected to your soulmate by a red thread only you and your soulmate can see and touch (and cut). When your soulmate dies, the thread solidifies and becomes heavier, as long as the distance between the soulmates was the time one of them died — almost like a chain.
Jake and Bradley find out they're soulmates early on in flight school — it's hard not to when the thread pulls tauter and tauter until they finally meet in the same classroom and they can see the other end of the thread for the first time.
There's fascination, there's the thrill of sneaking around (they should disclaim it, as soon as they learn, so it can be put in their records, but they never do) and everything is new and bright. They start to treasure the string, turning around their fingers and finding joy in noticing the other end twitching and pulling — with time, they notice the motions translate over the tread no matter how far away they are.
They make up a system of pulls and tags, using Morse code and it becomes something else, they become something else — in the air, wordlessly in sync, on the ground, talking to each other whenever they want, during sleepless nights and separate schedules and long-distance deployments.
Until.
Things start getting complicated. Bradley has commitment and abandonment issues, Jake's an all-or-nothing type of guy and just being soulmates isn't enough.
They go their separate ways. Bradley still, sometimes, when he can't sleep and the night makes him feel like nothing has a sense or a purpose, sends little messages down the thread. He never gets replies.
The day they meet again at the Hard Deck, Jake suspects Bradley is coming for the same assignment. The string’s been getting lighter and lighter the whole night, dropping down, no longer stretched to its limit.
They try to ignore the string the whole time the training goes on, but Mav still suspects. He doesn't say anything, but he feels like history is repeating itself.
When Mav and Bradley are arguing in the debriefing room and Warlock comes in, he doesn't say anything but Mav looks down at his own wrist and his face turns white and Bradley knows at that moment.
(Whether Mav and Ice are soulmates and married or they are soulmates but Ice still married Sarah, that's up for discussion).
During the whole funeral, Mav rolls the invisible thread around his wrist, moving onto his arm when it's not enough.
It's at that moment — Bradley decides Jake will never have to do the same.
The minute he turns around for Mav, he makes up a plan in his head.
They find each other in the snow, and argue, but by the end of it, Mav is making up a crazy plan and they'll try to return in one piece. Try being the keyword.
He pulls on the string, the thread between his thumb and index finger.
Mav frowns. "What are you doing?"
"Sending a message before we go."
He repeats it, just in case Jake hasn't realized in time to catch the whole thing at first. And then he starts looking through the pockets of his life vest.
“He’s not walking around with a dead man’s chain, Mav.”
Mav tries to stop him the second he realizes what Bradley is going to do but it's too late — with the same knife he cut his parachute off, he cuts off the thread, close to his wrist, letting it fall limping into the snow, red almost looking like droplets of blood.
It takes Jake a minute to realize that the tagging is a physical feeling, not just wishful thinking formed by his imagination.
The carrier deck is a mess, the foxtrot teams returned, Phoenix is now arguing with the admirals about Rooster's position — he might not be dead, sir — and the ringing in Jake's ears doesn't stop until he looks down at his wrist, and sees the string moving, the pulling a rhythmic, well-known motion.
Aloud, breaking up the vivid discussion about Maverick and Rooster's status, he says, “Rooster is alive, he’s—he’s talking,” and it almost feels like it's someone else using his voice.
“What do you mean, Hangman? His comm is silent.”
“Can feel it on the string, it’s still red and he’s— he’s tugging in Morse code,” he says. He closes his eyes and lets himself be pulled by the wrist. “S-O-R-R—Sorry, he’s—sorry and—and—I-L—Shit, no.”
I-L-Y
The string flops down, loose. “No—”
He cut it. He cut it because it's still red and not gray but still too limp and he knows it. His wrist feels too light, too free.
When Bradley lands on the carrier, his wrist is bare and the thread pools around Jake's feet. It doesn't magically reconnect when they touch, when they shake hands.
Jake tries to desperately find the other end, carrying rolls and piles of it with him as he follows Bradley to the med bay.
“Jake, just—just cut it,” he tells him. “It’s going to connect you again in a day or two.”
Jake ignores him, pulling miles and miles of the thread into circled piles next to Bradley's bed. He can't see the floor — it's just red and red and nothing else.
“No,” is all Jake says. “Not to you.”
It'll find him a new match, connect the thread to someone else, to someone who isn't Bradley.
"Bring me some scissors," Bradley says. He almost feels bad, when Jake's gaze turns up to him, glaring with shiny eyes. "Just do as I say for once."
Wordlessly, looking like it pains him, Jake brings him disposable scissors.
Bradley grabs his hand before he can move away, pulls about three feet of the thread from the pile, and cuts off the excess on the floor.
He wraps it around his own wrist, the string thin and soft, and a little clumsily ties it into a loop over his arm. When he leans away again, the thread takes a second, taut, and then stretches with the distance, like it has always done.
Jake stares at it, too focused and too absent. "That's the shittiest knot I've ever seen."
Bradley huffs. "Well, you gotta learn to live with it."
#can you tell i used to specialize in soulmates au fanfics#the ideas are endless#tgm#hangster#icemav mention#weirdly enough it was inspired by both me and my partner knowing morse code (kinda) and tinkering with the idea f buying bondtouch bracelet#you know the ones where the other person can feel when you tap yours
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*Drarry arguing years after the sectumsempra incident*
~~~♤~~~
Draco: You literally tried to kill me.
Harry: But you didn't die, soooo
Draco: THATS WHY I SAID T R I E D.
Harry: Do you even know what attempted murder is, Draco?
Draco: ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCKING GASLIGHT ME RIGHT NOW?
Blaise: *walks into the room* What's going on?
Ron: Draco's whining because Harry SUPPOSEDLY tried to kill him and Harry is just trying to live his hot girl summer life.
Pansy: Harry literally tried to kill Draco when they were like 16.
Ron: *Munching on snacks* Slander.
~~~♤~~~
#drarry#draco malfoy#harry potter#draco x harry#harry is a little shit#sectumsempra#its in their code to argue about everything#dont blame me#incorrect drarry quotes
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— SOMEONE'S JEALOUS...
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ after jay and you had an arguement before the concert, he gets jealous after seeing you sing to a guy. ヾ
pairing - guitaristjay x singer fem!reader ୨୧ wc - 200+ ₊˚⊹ genre jealousy, oneshot ୨ warnings - not proofread, jealousy, argument in the beginning, the song that they sing is into you by paramore⠀✩｡:*･.nini side note i saw a clip on an acting vid about this so i thought why not write it for jay cus its so jay coded!??!?!| LIBRARY FOR MORE...
ᝰ feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG
"YOU NEVER UNDERSTAND, JAY!" you exclaimed as the two of you argued.
Jay scoffed, "We've been over this 50 times, YN."
"She's just a 'pick-me' who's obsessed with you! Are you choosing her over me?" you murmured, tears threatening to spill.
"YN-" his voice was cut off by the staff instructing them to go onstage.
"God, Jay, you always ruin everything," you muttered, brushing past him swiftly to prepare your earpiece and mic. As the concert began, you maintained a good image, hiding your anger.
Jay strummed his electric guitar in time with the music, stealing glances at you. His mind was filled with guilt over the argument.
"After all this time," you sang. Jay looked up to see you approaching a male fan, exchanging flirtatious looks before continuing the song, singing to him.
"I'm still into you," you winked at the fan, Jay's frustration simmering. He watched as you continued to engage with the fan, singing directly to them. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. With each change in tempo, Jay's strumming grew louder.
You flinched as the guitar's volume increased, Jay purposefully overshadowing your vocals. Determined, you sang louder, meeting Jay's smirk with a gaze.
"And baby, even on our worst nights," you sang, locking eyes with Jay, "I'm into you. Let them wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all."
As Jay slightly lowered his volume, you turned away from the fan, making your way towards him. Singing directly to him, you eyed his guitar before meeting his gaze.
"After all this time, I'm still into you," you sang, sharing a moment of eye contact before turning away to continue the performance.
#𐙚 nini works#k-labels#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen masterlist#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#jay park x reader#jay park imagines#jay enhypen#sunghoon#jay park scenarios#jay park fluff#enhypen jay#enha#sim jaeyun#park jongseong x reader#jongseong fluff#jongseong x reader#jongseong park#jongseong imagines#ni ki#park jongseong#enhypen
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Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.
(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)
(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.
What if there were oil diffusers?
So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.
Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)
Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.
Onto Thursday.
Consider: A watch.
What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?
Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.
It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.
(It’s so easy. I promise.)
While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.
Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)
And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.
“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”
That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!
Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.
It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!
The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???
There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.
Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.
It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.
But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING
Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.
Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please
#THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME YOU DONT UNDERSTAND#I swear I can be so helpful Rick#hire me#i’m a screenwriter i promise i’m legit#btw this is NOT an opportunity to say you hate the show in the notes I will find you#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo tv show#percy jackson tv show#pjo spoilers#percy jackson the lightning thief#pjo series#screenwriting#grover underwood#annabeth chase#hermes
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unlucky ; luke castellan x reader
➻ synopsis: when clarisse mixes up her days, her physio appointment clashes with the exam she was supposed to drive you to. lucky for you, she's got a friend who owes her a favour
➻ word count: 2570
➻ content: swearing, anxious!reader, fluff
➻ not sure how i feel about this but it is written which is more than I can say about all my other wips so...
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
You were going to ace your exam. There was no other option, you’d prepared for everything. Your flash cards were colour coded and worn thin from revision, your cheap printer had basically had a fit from how many practise questions you’d printed out, and your whiteboard was crammed with revision notes. There was no way you were going to do anything less than stellar, you’d planned out every last detail of the day.
“What do you mean your exam is today?” Clarisse asked you as you stood in front of her, fully dressed and bag all packed. You hadn’t planned on this.
“Clar, it’s Wednesday. My exam is on Wednesday. I need you to drive me or I won’t get there.”
“Oh, Gods. Dude, I totally mixed up the days, I can’t drive you, I’ve got that physio appointment I told you about, the one that has a five month waitlist. I’m so sorry,” Your roommate groaned and you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. The Ubers around were hopeless, cancelling at the last minute and never actually picking you up — and it wasn’t you, your rating was perfectly high, for the record.
“Fuck,” You both cursed as you tried to figure out a solution. You wanted to be angry at Clarisse, but you knew you couldn’t. It was an honest mistake on her part, and she had to go to her appointment if she wanted to have any shot of getting back into the boat next semester and retain her rowing scholarship. Mostly you were mad at yourself that you didn’t have any backup plans, especially since you always had at least two. You were about to give up and start running across the city to try and make it in time when Clarisse’s eyes lit up, snapping her fingers excitedly.
“I’ve got it: I have a friend who I know for a fact won’t be doing anything right now and owes me a favour. I can get him to drive you?” You hesitated. On the one hand, Clarisse’s friend was probably the only way you were going to get to your exam punctually, but on the other, being in a car with some stranger would drastically heighten your anxiety and throw off all of your routines. With one more moment of thought you swallowed your nerves and nodded yes. Clarisse got on her phone, hurriedly dialling her friend. You watched in uneasy anticipation as she argued with the boy, referencing a myriad of situations you knew nothing about, clearly emphasising how much he owed her. You bit back a smile at that, Clarisse would always keep tabs on who owed her.
Finally she nodded at you and you couldn’t contain your grin. As much as the thought of navigating city traffic with a strange boy made your stomach churn — and not in the good way — your anxiety was completely outweighed by your desperation to get to your exam.
Waiting for him to arrive was a whole different story. Clarisse’s appointment was earlier than yours and so you had to wait on your own, frantically going over your notes again as you sat on the stoop of your apartment building, converse grinding into the concrete anxiously. To his credit, it wasn’t long before he pulled up, pulling into the parking space in front of you far too fast for your liking.
You observed the car skeptically. You didn’t want to judge when he was doing you such a big favour, but it was an integral part of you. The car was old and a bit worn down, but not so much in a ‘the owner’s a slob’ kind of way, more that you could tell it was well loved and had had its share of adventures. You could say the same for the boy inside it. He was beautiful, but you could tell he wasn’t really the type to think about his appearance too much. His shirt was clearly well loved, worn slightly thin from use, and he had a thin scar running down his cheek from his eye. You tried to smile sociably as you climbed in the passenger seat.
“Hi,” You said, introducing yourself quietly as you gripped your notes tightly.
“I’m Luke,” He replied, shooting you a quick smile.
The two of you sat awkwardly for a while, conversation at an uneasy halt. Luke had asked you a few polite questions, but your growing anxiety over the exam made it hard for you to think. At least until Luke had the bright idea of bringing up your roommate.
“So, how do you know Clarisse?” He asked, and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips.
“She’s my best friend!” You grinned, “We were assigned to be roommates in freshman year and ended up getting along surprisingly well for, well, the type of people we are. When it was time to move out of the dorms and get an apartment together, it just seemed natural that we’d continue to live together. You must be part of her other friendship group, then?” Luke was glad you’d started to come out of your shell, the chatty version of you that Clarisse had inspired made the battle against traffic much more bearable.
“Yeah, we all met through the sports program. I was kind of a package deal with Chris, so when they got together she got the blessing of hanging out with me too,” He joked, “How come we’ve never met? I know Chris tells her to bring you all the time.” Your cheeks flushed at being caught out avoiding the group.
“I’m not really good at talking to people, I feel so awkward. Plus I need to study, I don’t have the fallback of sport that Clar does. The times that she’s hosted have been actual coincidences though! I was visiting family the last time you all came to the apartment — promise I’m not actively avoiding you all.” Luke smiled at your bashful expression, tapping along light-heartedly to whatever grunge rock he had playing.
You conversed more easily for a while, you wanted to learn more about him, and Luke was a good conversationalist. He talked about his course in a way which interested you like it never had before. You didn’t think it was possible for economics to sound so fun. Whilst it took your mind off the exam for a while, Luke returning the questions about your major made your anxiety return tenfold, foot beginning to tap incessantly.
“Hey, uh, do you mind if I go over some of my flashcards just before we get to campus?” Luke agreed of course, piping in with questions to make you expand on what you’d learnt. It was irritating, but only because you knew it was a brilliant way to revise.
You hadn’t expected Luke to be so helpful or so amiable. Although they’d been friends for a year or two, Clarisse rarely mentioned him. Usually the focus of her tales were Chris or Silena, Luke usually featured as the poor boy making a fool of himself through one stupid act or another. Maybe you really would start going out with them if all Clarisse’s friends were so nice.
The closer you got to your exam hall, the quicker you started speaking, words tumbling out so fast Luke could hardly understand them. You were whipping yourself up into a frenzy, and the boy next to you did not know what to do. None of his friends ever got this concerned about their academics, and he had little practice in comforting anxious girls.
When he pulled up to a parking space, you were borderline hyperventilating, shaking hands making the cue cards threaten to spill everywhere. Despite all this, you forced yourself to stop for a moment, making yourself connect your eyes with Luke’s.
“Thank you,” You said, voice surprisingly steady given the moments prior. Luke was admittedly slightly taken aback, but brushed it off much too casually. You weren’t so easily deterred.
“Seriously! You picked up a neurotic girl you don’t know with literally five minutes warning. You let me talk your ear off and basically saved my grade. You’ve got to at least let me, like, get you dinner sometime.” Luke looked like he was gonna argue with your praise but thought better of it, simply shrugging and revealing a smile that made your heart skip a beat. You hopped out of the car, pulling your arms around yourself tightly as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for the exam ahead. When you heard your name being called you turned back curiously, to be met with Luke sticking his head out of his passenger side window — how tall was this boy?
“Good luck!” He yelled, cheeky grin on his face. You gave an exaggerated huff, smile creeping onto your face despite your unease. You rolled your eyes, waving goodbye before rushing into the hall, running to catch up with one of the girls you knew from class. Luke smiled, laughing to himself as he pulled out of the park.
The exam was awful. Like, dogshit terrible. Hot flushes of embarrassment shot up from your toes, burning tears sitting in your lash line as you made inane complaints to some of your friends from your cohort, hoping desperately they couldn’t tell how devastated you were.
It all just felt like a waste. After all that revision, sleepless nights and study groups with people you didn’t even really like, the exam was still awful, and you were one more minor inconvenience from a full-blown meltdown. You said goodbye to your friends, and there came the inconvenience: with all the anticipation of getting to the exam, you’d forgotten to figure out how you were getting home.
God you wished you had your license. Or adequate public transport. Before you could talk yourself down from a frenzy you were crying, and sat yourself down on the steps outside the exam hall for a private moment.
The honking of a car made you look up, and the sight of Luke’s old Toyota had your tears turning to ones of relief. You sprung out of your seat, wiping your tears hurriedly as you practically skipped over to his car.
“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but laugh, embarrassed at your dramatics.
“Couldn’t let the academic weapon walk home across the city all alone could I?” You shook your head enthusiastically, smile erupting on your face as you hopped into the passenger seat.
You sat in somewhat awkward silence as Luke began the drive. Whilst you weren’t still actively crying, it was excessively obvious that you were distraught. Luke didn’t know what to do or how to comfort you, but he was never one to stop trying.
“You know what the best thing about Chris being pre-med is?” He said, and you looked up curiously at the random topic. You shrugged, using the mirror attached to the sun visor to wipe away some of your smudged mascara. “I now know for a fact that chocolate makes serotonin, and that makes you happy. So what d’you say we go get some ice cream?”
Luke took you to an adorable little ice cream parlour a few blocks from campus and bought you both cups of chocolate ice cream, calmly ignoring your protests. Sitting in a booth together it was remarkable how quickly your mood had shifted. Luke was shockingly charming, and seemingly knew exactly what to say to get you to open up, and before long you were chatting as if you’d been friends for years.
He told you dozens of stories of his and Clarisse’s friendship group, recounting all the wild nights and stupid adventures they’d had. You loved it, you’d heard most of them from your flatmate but an alternate perspective made you cackle all over again.
“How did you know when my exam finished? It was three hours long,” You said when there was a lull in conversation. Luke looked uncharacteristically bashful, suddenly avoiding eye contact with you and focusing intently on his ice cream.
“I’ve just been hanging on campus,” He confessed, “I took a lap at five past the hour to try and catch you.” You couldn’t help your grin.
“You are such a softie!” You squealed, shoving his shoulder lightly. He shook his head aggressively but you could have sworn that the Luke Castellan was blushing.
It wasn’t long before Luke was driving you home, the two of you scream singing to Kelly Clarkson (you’d taken over the aux, but Luke didn’t seem to mind that much). You felt a little betrayed that Clarisse had been friends with him for so long and yet you’d never crossed paths. You also wondered how you’d never noticed how hot the guy in all of her Instagram posts was, but that was neither here nor there.
As you pulled up in front of your apartment building you almost felt sad, but for a completely different reason than you were an hour before. All thoughts of your shit exam were gone, replaced by thoughts of Luke and the lightness in your chest he’d caused.
You sat in the car together, clearly hesitant to go. Finally, you knew you had to leave and reached for the door handle.
“Wait,” He said. You stopped. “Our group is going for dinner tomorrow night, uh, you should come. If you want.” Luke was looking anywhere but at you, and you felt your beam even if he couldn’t see it (he could, but for his sanity he was trying really hard to pretend he didn’t).
“Yeah,” You replied breathily, “Yeah, I’ll think about it.” You thanked him again for the lift and the ice cream before hopping up the steps into your apartment. Neither of you could control your giddy grins for an embarrassing amount of time.
When Clarisse got home that evening she was all apologies for her mix up, but when you of all people brushed off her disorganisation she figured something was up.
“So, how was Luke? Not too scary?” She asked as you both sat on the couch, Love Island rerun playing. You tried to answer noncommittally, eyes locked on the screen.
“He was nice,” You said, immediately forcing a laugh at whatever bullshit one of the boys in the villa had said. You could feel Clarisse eyeing you suspiciously, you would never be so vague — especially not when today was such a huge deal for you. Nevertheless she hummed in agreement, sparking a plan in her head.
“Hey, so the group are going to dinner tomorrow, you should come. It’ll be me, Chris, Silena, maybe a few others. Luke’ll be there too, I think.” She feigned innocence, counting them out on her fingers.
“Yeah, ok, I’ll be there,” You replied, trying to play it cool despite never having once agreed to go out with her friends. Clarisse’s raised eyebrow told you all you needed to know about your acting.
#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love#fluff#luke castellan#pjo series#percy series#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson show#percy jackson tv show#pjo#luke castellan pjo#pjo tv show#pjo fandom#percy jackson#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan fanfiction#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you
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american girl & british boy - lando norris
summary- established relationship
pairings- lando norris x sargeant!reader
authors note- might be spelling errors, feel free to put in requests
masterlist
y/nsargeant
liked by landonorris, logansargeant,and 2,837,872
y/nsargeant I ♡ my bf
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landonorris my love
logansargeant disgusting
username ITS A NEED OF WHAT THEY HAVE
logansargeant i expected a better caption from you considering how much of a swiftie you are
username they’re so lover coded i fear
username couple goals
lilymhe you're cheating on me
y/nsargeant it's not what it looks like baby
alex_albon @ landonorris you seeing this???
landonorris I am??
alex_albon we'll get married lando
y/nsargeant oh fuck no back off lily and lando are mine alex
username don't you just love lover from other couples
username if they ever break up please know i’ll be dead
username that should be me holding your hand💔💔
username don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding the love of your life
maxverstappen p said she wants you back asap
y/nsargeant tell her I'll be back soon😔🤞🏻
username i wish i was lando so i could just stare at her all day
landonorris
liked by y/nsargeant, carlossainz55, and 2,927,415
landonorris my travel buddy
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y/nsargeant I love you❤
username I love them so much together:(
username hes so inlove
username if my future bf doesnt love me this much i swear-
username tHaT sHoUlD bE mE
carlossainz55 I thought I was your travel buddy😔
y/nsargeant not anymore buddy
charles_leclerc your down bad my man
y/nsargeant so are you so stfu
username y/n arguing with the other drivers is everything
username I'm going on tinder
logansargeant gross. give me my sister back
landonorris no can do buddy
y/nsargeant
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 3,837,872
y/nsargeant yup yup going back to these mfs in a week
tagged landonorris, mercedesamgf1, pierre gasly, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and logansargeant
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mercedesamgf1 delete that-toto
y/nsargeant no can do grandpa
mercedesamgf1 your not allowed in the garage
y/nsargeant I always find a way in😍 now go to sleep gramps
username LANDO
username y/n stays bullying toto
username lewis was kidnapped
oscarpiastri I slayed
username can we talk about how cute charles looks
y/nsargeant him dying is cute?
username PLS-
username y/n always getting flipped off
y/nsargeant I know right😔
pierregasly she gets on my nerves
logansargeant she deserves them
y/nsargeant I'm older dont try me
logansargeant BY 5 MINUTES
y/nsargeant best 5 minutes of my life and then your screeching came along
landonorris I'm pretty sure you were screeching as well baby
y/nsargeant dont defend him😒
username them arguing in the comments is the best
username carlando❤
username I'm obsessed with all of them
lewishamilton I was kidnapped for no reason
username summer is almost over
landonorris
liked by carlossainz55, y/nsargeant, and 3,827,182
landonorris my gf made me post this but late night shenanigans
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lilymhe y/n always has the best sleepovers
username I want this friend group
username y/n being on top of that thingy is terrifying especially with her thoughts
username I need friends
maxverstappen y/n decided to jump off that
carlossainz55 I got pushed off the couch by y/n
alex_albon y/n stole my gf
charles_leclerc she hit me with a wooden spoon
arthurleclerc she let me sleep
lewishamilton she yelled at me to bring roscoe
pierregasly she yelled at me to bring kika
logansargeant she slammed the door on my face
danielriccardo she threw cake at me
oscarpiastri she stole my phone
landonorris she made me sleep on the floor
y/nsargeant ACCUSATIONS FALSE ACCUSATIONS
username damn they really came for her throat
y/nsargeant IM NEVER HAVING A SLEEPOVER AGAIN I HATE YALL
y/nsargeant
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, and 3,152,837
y/nsargeant back to paddock-sitting no more vacation-sitting
tagged lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen, landonorris, lilymhe, alex_albon, pierregasly, sebastianvettel, danielriccardo, heidiberger_, alexandrasaintmleux
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landonorris we are so cute
alex_albon was a chef slay
pierregasly we are not that bad
lilymhe yall are horrible
y/nsargeant what she said
heidiberger_ what she said
francisca.cgomez what she said
username lando and y/n are the power couple
charles_leclerc stalker
username y/n stalking charles
maxverstappen you are a mean babysitter
y/nsargeant and you need to stop running away
username dont you just love love
username I want a lando and y/n relationship
username if they dont get married istg
danielriccardo lan looking a little funny in the first photo
sebastianvettel nice see you guys
username oh to be loved
#f1 social media au#f1 one shot#formula one imagine#landonorris#lando norris#lando norris social media au#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#alex albon#pierre gasly#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#sebastian vettel#logan sargeant#formula one social media au#formula one#arthur leclerc#carlos sainz 55#oscar piastri#mercedes amg f1#toto wolff
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The discussion at the International Court of Justice has been pretty predictable so far. South Africa claimed that on Oct 7 "out of the blue" Israel invaded Gaza and started a genocidal campaign against the Palestinians.
Israel's defense team (pic above) did the obvious thing, and pointed out Hamas' massacre on that day, that it's a genocidal threat to the citizens of this country, and that everything happening in Gaza can ONLY be understood in the context of this massacre, and of the right to self defense which EVERY COUNTRY has (meaning that harming this right will also harm Israel's right to an equal treatment), that it's fighting Hamas, not the Palestinians, that every bit of suffering inflicted on both sides is due to Hamas' attacks on civilians in Israel, and the intentional way it uses Gazan civilians as a tool to paralyze the right of a democratic state to defend its people.
To prove a murder, a prosecution has to prove two things: action and intent. It has to prove that the action was committed (meaning, that person A killed person B), and that the action was intentional (that person A meant to kill person B). In the same way, a genocide has to be proven regarding both action and intent. In terms of actions, Israel's defense team showed that Israel has taken numerous steps to minimize the number of Gazan civilian casualties, while the actions of Hamas are aimed to maximize them, and of course that to begin with, the number of fatalities is based on Hamas' reports, which are NOT reliable, and which do not show how many of the killed were terrorists, meaning legitimate targets, nor how many were killed by Hamas itself.
For intent, SA took Israeli officials' quotes out of context in order to make it seem as if Israel's goal is to target all Palestinians. The Israel defense team showed the real context of many of these quotes, as well as presented OPERATIONAL quotes (during cabinet meetings, where policy is ACTUALLY determined, quotes that are much more crucial for what is ACTUALLY happening than media quotes) showing that Israel explicitly declared Hamas is its target, not all Palestinians, and that many of the operational quotes are about giving Gazans humanitarian aid, and minimizing the number of causalties.
Israel has also argued that a crucial condition for provisional measures (internediary junctions that SA is asking for) is not met, the condition that a population is at an extraordinary danger for genocidal acts. Israel's defense team showed that with Israel's efforts to minimize causalties, and with its stated intent of lowreing the intensity of fighting as soon as it is possible, there's no extraordinary danger to the Gazans that Israel will carry out genocidal acts if the fighting isn't stopped. The team argued that on the contrary, if a provisional measure forcing Israel to stop its war against Hamas is granted, it's the Israeli population that would be left in an extraordinary danger of future genocidal acts committed by Hamas. Israel's team also pointed out that NEVER has a provisional measure calling for the stop of an ENTIRE military operation been given, meaning SA is asking for a judicial precedent, something that requires extraordinary circumstances, which SA had failed to prove.
I personally want to address one of the quotes SA used, Bibi talking about Amalek. The exact quote is: "Remember that which Amalek has done to you, we will defeat the evil" (source in Hebrew). People claimed that Amalek is code for genocide, because the nation of Amalek in the Bible was wiped out. What they ignore is that Amalek in the Hebrew Bible is a symbol, Amalek is not about a specific nation, it's about the fact that some will hate the people of Israel no matter what. Jews can be the nicest, best, kindest, sweetest humans on earth to a degree that's not actually realistic, and Amalek would still hate them. Amalek is essentially the biblical term or antisemites. "Remember that which Amalek has done to you" (Deutoronomy 25:17) has therefore become a symbol as well. It's not about a specific action against Amalek, because the truth is, we can never fully get rid of them, there will always be antisemites around. But Jews can remember what antisemites had done to us, and try to learn from it. And isn't that what we ALL say, that those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it?
I also wanna demonstrate that Jews DO NOT take Amalek to automatically mean genocide.
This is from Israel's national Holocaust museum. Gallery 9 covers the way Holocaust survivors return to life, and re-build it. One of the main, real banners that survivors put up in the Displaced Persons (DP) camp of Bergen Belsen is presented to visitors:
It's the top banner in the pic, and the words are the original Hebrew for "Remember that which Amalek has done to you" followed by 3 exclamation marks. On the wall to the right you can see posters from DP camps, the top left one (out of the 4 posters in the top row) is from Munich, in 1948, and it is also using this very same quote, as it asks survivors to record and collect their testimonies:
First, I believe it's clear this is a call to do something very innocent in nature, and not remotely close to genocidal.
Second, I hope it's also obvious that this call to remember what Amalek has done, in the context of the Holocaust, is not a call against all Germans. It's not even a call against all Nazis. Oskar Schindler, who saved roughly 1,200 Jews during the Holocaust, was a German Nazi. The first ones to make sure he is remembered and honored, were Jews. In Romania, a man called Traian Popovici saved roughly 20,000 Jews in the city of Cernauti, and again, the first place where he was honored as a hero was in Israel, the Jewish state, in 1965. But also in Romania, about half of the Jewish population was murdered in the Holocaust, most of them (including my family), by Romanians. Not Germans, not Nazis. In every single country, Germany included, we can find those who helped save Jews, and those who helped to kill them. So I hope it's evident that no one was calling to vilify all Germans, as one nation, nor ignore those who killed Jews in the Holocaust, who were not German.
The use of Amalek here is obviously NOT a call to genocide applied indiscriminately to an entire nation. Accordingly, human history does not include that time Jews carried out a counter-genocide against the Germans after WWII. Despite the repeated use of the term Amalek, which came from the people themselves. Anyone who claims Amalek is automatically a call to genocide does not know Jewish culture, but is still trying to weaponize it against Jews.
I also have to say that one of the more despicable libels stated as if it were fact in the ICJ yesterday by SA, was that Israel is trying to prevent babies in Gaza from being born. In Israel, about 2 million people are Arab. While only about 7% of them define themselves as Palestinian (according to a 2020 survey), many around the world (and especially the anti-Israel crowd) see them all as Palestinians. Israel financially supports families with kids, and it also pays for fertility treatmeans for the first two kids of (would be) Israeli parents. And there is NO difference between Jewish and Arab citizens of Israel in this. Yes, Israel is financially supporting the birth of Arab babies, that's just fact.
In contrast, during the Holocaust, we know the Nazis, in addition to murdering Jewish babies in places like the extermination camp of Auschwitz, also tried to prevent them from being born. We have the protocols of a discussion between Jewish community leaders in a Lithuanian ghetto, where they're trying to decide what to do with the statement of the Nazis, that if they learn of even one Jewish baby born alive in the ghetto, they will come in and murder everyone in there. These Jewish leaders know that there are pregnant women in the ghetto. They know that some of these expectant mothers have already lost their husbands, and all they have left of the men they loved is the baby they're carrying. These women would not easily agree to have an abortion. But if they don't, everyone would be murdered. What's the right thing to do, and how to do it?
At the ICJ, SA did not present one single piece of evidence to support the claim that Israel is preventing Palestinian babies from being born. I think it's a whole new moral low, to take something that was actually historically done to Jews as a part of the genocide against us, and present it without any proof as if the Jewish state is doing that itself. This is how anti-Zionism gives birth to new antisemitic blood libels. This is a part of how anti-Zionism is antisemitic by its very nature.
Outside the court, Israeli journalists report that a campaign by the families of the hostages (some of which were present at the discussions), asking to remind everyone of their family members still held in captivity by Hamas, was not approved for publishing in the Netherlands. These are the posters they wanted to share:
While those kidnapped and their loved ones can't testify as to the absurdity of portraying Israel's self defense as genocide, the hostages were mentioned, and their faces were shown in the court, in one of the more moving moments IMO of today's proceedings.
There's also a pro-Israel demonstration outside. An Israeli journalist who interviewed two of the participants, started by admitting that this group was protesting so peacefully, he completely missed them at first. So don't be surprised if they're not mentioned or interviewed by most journalists. He also pointed out that repeatedly, anti-Israeli protesters would drive by this pro-Israel group, shout out anti-Israel slogans, often while waving a Palestinian flag, and film the reactions of the protesters. Just to be clear, that's harassment.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
#israel#antisemitism#israeli#israel news#israel under attack#israel under fire#israelunderattack#terrorism#anti terrorism#hamas#antisemitic#antisemites#jews#jew#judaism#jumblr#frumblr#jewish#resources
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as above, so below
╰┈➤ a grumpy grim reaper falls in love with an optimistic angel.
one sided hatred to lovers; grim reaper!wilbur x angel!reader
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - here it is, my magnum opus. even tho its not done! i had to split this fic in half, so unfortunately there will have to be a part two :( very sorry. but on a lighter note, HUGE HUGEEE thank you to @harbingerofheartbreak. as per usual, she helped me visualized the entire thing and even made some of the plots and ideas that i used. in fact, the original fic was supposed to be a grim reaper x human, but it was florence who thought of the grim reaper x angel prompt and i could not thank her enough. furthermore, she helped keep this fic going and constantly pushed me beyond my limits to do so. the fic was started july 21st and it was supposed to be shelved after a couple weeks, but she made me keep going. she is the best forever and ever go read ynaf. additionally, another big thanks to @starsyoubreaklikesugardust for being another little beta reader for this fic. she always has the greatest ideas known to man and i wanted to run everything by her bcuz it was like having van gogh rate my painting. i had to share this with her earlier than i thought cuz she was threatening me but we dont have to talk about that smile. both of these people helped me so much, and i will forever be in debt to them.
all in all, please please enjoy and give this your love pretty please <3
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - talk of death, religious aspects, and swearing
she had a lot of questions about wilbur.
not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "on a scale of one to ten, how much does being a murderer really affect your mood?"
all of these questions would go unanswered. including "what's your favorite band?" no matter what, she just could not crack the code of wilbur soot.
to say he was intricate would be an understatement, and her ongoing curiosity would surely be the death of her.
unless he had something to do about it.
-
he stomped away from her on the rooftop as she followed after him.
"i told you to leave me alone," wilbur grunted, trying to speed walk past her with his long scythe trailing behind him. "is that so difficult to understand?"
"i just- i just wanna talk-" she panted, trying to catch up to him. her white dress flowed beneath her, but wilbur tried not to think about it too much.
"no." he made a sharp turn to fully face her, making her nearly bump into him.
her frown was illuminated by her golden halo, making her hair look almost cloud-like. her eyes glimmered like the entire sun was like a clown nose on her face, despite them arguing in the cold of night.
she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. her halo also lit his face up, and she saw the permanent frown and scrunched up eyebrows under his dark hood.
"why not, wilbur?"
he looked at her like she asked if the moon was real.
"you ruined my job. again." he punctuated his sentence with her name, saying it like he was curling at the nasty taste of it.
he always hated her. there was no mistaking it. he hated the way she giggled and danced around just because she could. he hated the way she spoke, always sounding so bright and happy and fucking naive. he hated her big white wings and her shiny halo.
"there you go talking about your job! like its all that matters to you," she yelled over the continuous honking cars beneath them. "do you even care about anything else in life?"
they weren't even supposed to interact, her being an angel and him being the prince of death. but he was always out doing his grim reaper duties, and she couldn't help but stop him.
he just wanted to follow orders from mumza- the queen of death. every single day that he existed, he had to take the lives of those who were ready. it ate him alive, but it was his only purpose.
"i can't care about everything else in life if i have to care about everything else in death," he grumbled under his breath, making her go silent. he liked her silence, loved it even, because that meant she couldn't criticize him for everything he did.
he would tell her about how angry the job made him. that if he could just switch spots with his brother, the stork, he would be the happiest being in hell. that he hated being the grim reaper almost as much as she hated him.
but if there was anything he really hated, it was opening up to people. and vice versa.
the last time he remotely opened up to someone, it was his mother, and he barely remembered the conversation. it was all the way back when he was welcome to smile. all he could recall was it being something about love, whatever it meant.
"will you please leave me alone now?" he sighed, rubbing his hand in his eye. he watched her eyes go from their usual large state to becoming droopy. she silently nodded her head.
"sorry. goodbye, mr. grim reaper," and the title tore him to shreds. it angered him, over everything else, that all he would be to her was an evil being.
yet, he watched as she jumped from the rooftop, fluttering her wings until she flew away. as she looked back over at him, he couldn't place the odd feeling left in his stomach. if it was guilt or hatred, he would never know.
he would continue to travel, picking up the souls on his way. she always thought he was lucky for being able to travel wherever he wanted. she always wanted to befriend the humans- in fact, she wanted to befriend everyone, but she found it impossible when she was constantly being held back.
he arrived back to hell's palace, a bag in one hand, and his scythe in the other. his head drooped down, avoiding any unnecessary eye contact with the other demons.
that hope would be short lived, however, as a demon took his shoulder as he walked.
"wilbur!" he spoke cheerfully, as if he wasn't living among lava pools and ash.
"quackity," wilbur responded in the same, monotone voice. it made the demon groan.
"quackity-" he mocked, changing his shape to an exact replica of wilbur's. mimic demons, they were called, and they were able to take form of any other being, even adorning their voice. it came in handy for most demon's entertainment, but it certainly didn't faze wilbur.
he stared into the mimic of his face, hating what stared back at him.
"oh come on. that usually works on people," quackity frowned as he twisted himself back to his natural state. he began poking wilbur with his blackened hands. "just give me a little giggle, wilbur."
"no." he'd said the word so much that it rolled perfectly off his tongue. "and for fucks sake, please put on a shirt."
quackity laughed loudly. "we're in hell, wilbur! its hot as- well, hell down here. don't tell me you haven't thought about walking around shirtless either." he paused, putting his hands on wilbur's dark outfit, "or.. hoodless.."
wilbur glared with an unamused look on his face, shrugging quackity's touch off of him and trying to continue walking along his path. walking away from conversations never worked to end them, yet he still tried it.
it would be the second example today that his tactic never worked, because quackity continued to walk along with him into the palace.
"what's the catch today?" he said it like it was a cheer. "did you get the big numbers? beat your high score yet?"
he would say he could feel his blood boil, but the flames in hell already did that.
"no. i don't keep track," he explained simply, pouring his bag's content into the soul sorter. it went to the fates to decide whether the soul was good or bad. simply enough, the good souls would be transported to heaven and the bad ones would stay. sometimes he imagined them debating over a soul's purity. the sound of screams every time he opened the bag would never become easier to stomach.
"bummer," quackity hummed. "why don't you try to make the job a little fun?"
"because i don't want to, okay?" he raised his voice. this time, quackity caught the memo and stayed quiet, except for a "shit, okay." under his breath.
wilbur walked along the palace's stairs, leaving quackity alone in the lobby without another word. this time, walking away from the situation made it stop. the third time really was the charm.
he set his hood down to his shoulders with a sigh, being able to fully see the gold and red palace for what it was. all of the vibrant and bright colors that quite literally clashed with the flames. it was scary and huge, but it was home to him. it was all he'd really known.
he went up to his room, laying on his bed with a groan. sometimes he wished his bed was quite literally made out of feathers, because his back always ached. tommy always said it was because of his "fucking posture", but wilbur knew he had no room to talk. just the thought of him jumping into a big pile of fluffy feathers made his bones ease a little more.
he would spend the night rolling around in his not-feather bed, having issues with his sleep. it was such a frequent problem for him that it was barely even a problem. just how he existed.
and, meanwhile, she would spend her "night" (in quotations. it never got dark in heaven.) staring up at the sun, wondering what sort of buttons she could've possibly pushed with wilbur to make him hate her. it was a recurring thought, but it kept her up too frequently.
the worst part about waking up was simply that. waking up. wilbur would roll out of bed, fluff up his hair a little bit, put on the same clothes, and be going. he went through the same routine every day and he hated it. but at the same time, if anyone disrupted his routine, he'd be angered.
"wilbur!"
and his routine was ruined.
"morning, tommy," he muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. he couldn't be bothered to be angry this early, and definitely not to tommy. "aren't you supposed to be in heaven right now?"
"i'm on break," tommy said in a matter-of-fact tone. he stretched his arms and his wings with a groan, leaving some stray yellowed feathers behind. "delivering babies to peoples' doors is quite the workout."
wilbur barely registered his words, staring idly past tommy. his eyes wandered more on a decoration on a table behind him. he didn't even notice that tommy had continued speaking until he put his hands on his hips and sighed.
"yeah. both mum and dad really like me!" tommy spoke, ruffling his hands through his hair until he realized his goggles were in the way. the mention of phil darkened his mood.
"mum told you to stop calling him 'dad'," wilbur spoke monotone and simple, as usual.
and as usual, tommy groaned at wilbur's monotone voice and simple words, slouching down. "she also told you to stop being so fucking gloomy."
wilbur felt the need to do a lot of things; one- hit tommy with his scythe, two- tell tommy what a privileged asshole he sounded like, and three- do both at the same time. but wilbur had an okay-ish perception of tommy, growing up alongside the boy took a lot. but as annoying as the boy was, he was wilbur's company. even if he would rather swallow his scythe than to admit it aloud.
instead of acting on his mental list of intrusive thoughts, wilbur only sighed. he didn't bother to pick the conversation back up, his eyes wandering to the decoration again. had they always had that there? it looks off-centered.
"well," tommy noticed wilbur's spacing and patted his shoulder as he walked towards the stairs. "good luck today."
wilbur stared blankly through the fringe of sweaty hair on his forehead. inside, he was trying to form whatever a smile was. "thank you, tommy."
he watched as tommy jumped down the stairway, yellow tufts of hair flying with him. he heard a shout from down below, "and don't forget to fix your posture!"
wilbur scoffed in response, sounding more uninterested than he intended to, but ultimately pulling his shoulders back. a new day! a new window of opportunity! is what wilbur would think, if he wasn't wilbur.
he grabbed the railing of the stairway, his pale thin hand contrasting with the gold. he stared at his feet the entire time stepping down. he'd already forgotten about "fixing his posture".
he made his way down the lobby, not getting a chance to speak to his mother due to the abundance of demons lined up, trying to tell her that she was making a mistake. it was typical, but it still left bags under her eyes. wilbur only gave her a timid wave as a greeting before exiting through the palace's doors.
he dragged his tacky shoes through the red dirt beneath him, watching as tiny rocks rolled along his feet before stopping. he almost ran head first into the elevator due to how long he kept his gaze down, but luckily he saved himself from the mental embarrassment.
he stepped inside, proving his identity to the machine far more times than he needed to. mimic demons would always try to steal his finger print to use the elevator and get themselves back onto earth, but it was never successful. he had a keycard, just in case the identity proving didn't work. tommy had the same.
as the doors parted and he made a careful step out, he did his daily greeting to the guard (his daily greeting being a casual glare and a furrow of his eyebrows) and used his scythe to poke himself out.
from the surface, it would simply look like a boulder being turned over. but as wilbur stepped onto the grass, he took a moment to breathe. the air on earth was far better than the smoke in hell. he would spend a great deal of time taking a couple deep breaths, appreciating the silence, oh the lovely sound of absolutely nothing-
"wilbur! there you are!"
he almost screamed. instead, he only turned to the source of the way-too-cheerful voice, saying her name in utter disbelief. "what are you doing here?"
he didn't speak as if he were asking a question. he wasn't actually interested in why she was here in the grass with her elegant white dress and her annoyingly wide smile, using her wings to shield herself from the sun, even if they were translucent.
"i was waiting for you!" she squeaked, getting up from her spot in the grass and practically skipping up towards him. she had what looked to be a gardener's nightmare in her hands. "this is for you!"
before he could say another word, she pushed his hood off of his head. she had to use her wings to reach the top of his hair, but she was still able to run her hand through his brown waves. and as she giggled, she placed her makeshift flower crown on his head.
she pushed herself away- still hovering on her wings, and took a long, meaningful look at him. "you look great!"
"i feel disgusting," he said with anger, taking the weeds out of his hair and stuffing them sloppily into his bag. "why did you do that."
she looked at him with a frown, but still tried to make herself sound happy. her halo flickered softly. "it.. it was supposed to be a gift for you."
"yeah? well i hated it," he squinted his gaze down at her, and she could feel herself shrinking the more and more he looked.
she stayed quiet, the halo above her head still flicked on and off. she looked at him with nothing but a frown, lowering herself so that her feet hit the ground.
what she failed to notice was that he unfurrowed his brows ever so slightly upon seeing her upset.
"let me just get going, okay?" he spoke, trying to make his voice a little bit softer but still keeping the agonizing punch in there.
she spoke quieter now. "i have one more thing for you."
wilbur flinched, fully expecting a glitter bomb to come out of her pocket. but to his surprise, it wasn't.
she pulled out a pack of gummy worms, handing it to him with a pitiful smile on her face. he took it, examining it slowly.
"why is it open?" he took another look at it and realized it was almost half empty.
"umm.. i got a little hungry waiting for you," she mumbled, playing with the hem of her dress. "you were taking a little bit long."
"and speaking of which, i've been talking to you for a little bit too long," he retorted, crumpling up the bag of gummy worms in his palm. the sides of the bagging were practically fighting with the cage he made out of his fingers.
he began to walk in the opposite direction, debating in his mind exactly how long it would take to make his way out of the field and to the nearest trash can. she quickly followed behind him, almost tripping on herself in the process.
"hey- i didn't expect a hello from you, but a thank you would at least be nice!" she yelled as he speed-walked away with his grumpy walk and stone shoulders. "i'm talking to you!"
"and i'm not," he grumbled, fiddling to put his hood back onto his head as a way of closing himself off.
"just-" she flapped her wings, trying to be alongside him. "just have some gummy worms, please?"
he glared, slightly squinting from the piercing light of her halo. "maybe later."
"right now."
as much as he didn't want to, he stopped dead in his tracks. his stare was hurtful and his hand clenched onto his scythe. that was the most demanding he'd ever heard of her.
there was a voice in his head telling him to leave, to just let her have the last word and be gone. but he felt like he couldn't move.
"excuse me?" he only said, scrunching his eyebrows up.
"i want you to have them right now," she enunciated her words, crossing her arms and trying to copy his expression. she was fighting her usual bright smile under her pursed lips. "in front of me."
he blinked, almost starstruck. "why?"
she seemed nearly surprised at his one word question, her stern voice softening slightly. "you look like you haven't been taking care of yourself," as she spoke through a pout, he could feel his face warming up, like tiny little punching bags beneath his skin. "i wanna make sure you're eating."
he hated the feeling of his cheeks going warm. he slept in hell, obviously he knew what warmth was. but for some reason it felt even weirder when it was behind his skin. he cleared his throat with a cough.
"this? you think this is healthy?" he held up the crumpled, half-empty bag, speaking with his forceful actions.
she went quiet again, only speaking loud enough for him to hear. "i couldn't afford anything else at the gas station."
the feeling of warmth in his cheeks soon boiled over into anger. "you couldn't afford anything else?" he repeated in disbelief, "you are quite literally an angel! you're invisible to the human eye! it is so easy for you to steal."
"but i don't wanna be a bad person!" she copied his raised voice, standing on her tiptoes as almost a challenge. "i leave money in the cash register for the man. you know, he's really struggling. he could use the money. his name is robert, i think-"
"i don't care!" wilbur screamed, cutting her off completely. she flinched at his voice, feeling overwhelmed tears start to prickle from her eyes. she hid behind her wings, afraid that he might do something drastic.
he felt his shoulders shrink at her reaction, but ultimately grumbled and opened the pack of gummy worms. he hesitated, holding out the candy in front of him.
she opened her eyes from her flinch, and saw him sniffing the gummy worm. a smile spread across her face. "you just.. take a bite out of it."
"i know," he muttered. he was already mad enough that he had to eat it, he didn't want to be instructed on how.
"oh.. okay. i mean- i just kinda assumed that you didn't know because i don't think there are gummy worms in hell. they'd get all sticky and stuff. at least, that's what i've heard. are there really no gummy worms in hell?"
he looked at her with no amusement on his face. she looked right back at him, however, wanting an answer to her long winded question that was somehow said in a singular breath.
"no… no there aren't," he spoke slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. "are there gummy worms in heaven?"
why was he making conversation with her? he should be out collecting souls right now, not talking about stupid little gummy worms with this stupid little angel. he mentally slapped himself in the face, cringing with a shake of his head.
"no, there aren't," she batted her eyelashes like she was trying to think for a moment. "but phil sometimes gives me money for gummy worms. i share it with the others!"
he was barely registering her words, his mind still clouded with the mental boxing match he was having with himself. he was being stupid. not even the mention of phil was able to knock him from his thoughts.
"hey," she waved her hand in his face, acting as the referee and stopping his boxing match. he was almost at a knockout. "you've been making that face for a while. do you not like gummy worms?"
wilbur didn't know how to really respond to the question, having never even tried gummy worms before. he looked back at her. she had her full attention on him, waiting for another answer that he would hopefully not blunder.
"it's.. it's fine."
he definitely blundered.
he ignored it, not ready for a round two fight, and put the gummy worm in his mouth.
she leaned forward. "how is it?"
it was about the best damn thing he's ever had.
"it's.. okay, i guess."
"great!" she jumped- fucking jumped. "im sure you have to be on your way for your very important job-"
he completely forgot about his being the grim reaper, straightening up suddenly with widened eyes and tightening his grip on his scythe. he cursed under his breath, running towards the direction of the city.
"hey, i didn't finish!" she called out, catching up to him once more with flaps of her wings.
"i can't talk. you've already made me late enough," his hood almost fell off in the wind with how quickly he was running. "fuck, mum's gonna be pissed."
she would, in fact, not be pissed. she was always far too busy to even greet wilbur or tommy, and they hadn't done any sort of domestic activity in what felt like an eternity. he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, that she was just busy with being the queen of death, but it was extremely lonely.
there wasn't any time for them to really speak. they were both always busy and family meals were long forgotten. in fact, wilbur had never eaten in front of another person before. the most he'd done was eat some boring, rotten food while sitting on his floor with tommy- and even then, he was only picking at it idly with his fork.
he found comfort in eating alone. there was no one there to judge him or to argue. it was just him, his thoughts, and the literal grayed out food they had in hell. but there was something always so reminiscent about having food with another person, even if it was just something like dessert.
"oh," she sighed, moving her wings idly. she watched as he ran away without another look. her arms swung at her sides in an almost confused fashion. "okay. um- hope you like your gummy worms! bye wilbur!"
at least she didn't call him mr. grim reaper again.
he didn't care, anyway, just trying to get to work on the job he obviously hated. but when he stopped to catch his breath, he couldn't help but stare at the pack of gummy worms in his sweaty palms, the colorful designs contrasting his dull looking hand.
he looked around. it looked like there were no cheerful angels in sight, so he figured himself to be safe. he popped another gummy worm into his mouth, scrunching his nose at the taste of something so impossibly sweet. it was a pleasant change from the tasteless foods in hell, and the addictive sweetness coated his tongue for a while.
he stuffed the rest of the pack into his bag, appreciating how empty it was without the souls inside it- a temporary feeling.
wilbur already felt like he'd wasted enough time, and got to work. bringing people to death's door wasn't exactly the easiest job.
he started with a car crash, wincing at the amount of shattered glass and blood everywhere. he fell sick to his stomach with a nasty feeling bubbling up in his throat. all those years dealing with death and it still never got easier to see the causes.
he held his scythe up slowly, shutting his eyes in a flinch. he thought of a thousand things all at once, trying to focus on one. they have to die. i have to put them out of their misery. they're dying because they have to, not because i chose to.
he took a breath, feeling like needles were going up his nose and into his lungs, and swung the weapon down.
it sunk through the person's body without struggle, opening up a passageway for him. he removed his scythe carefully, as if it would hurt them.
he sat on his knees next to the car. although his body was phantom-like against the gravel, he could still feel the roughness under him.
he held a cold hand to the person's back, trying to ignore how it looked to see the life drain from under their eyelids and filter out onto his palm. as soon as he could no longer feel a nauseating pull on his hand, he lifted it gently. he watched as the soul threaded directly off the person, catching onto his fingertips.
he didn't bother to take a closer look at it. the last thing he wanted was to remind himself that these people were actually human. he only took it in his palms, mushing it until it turned into a small circular shape. he put it in his bag, not caring to look at what else was in it.
wilbur would continue to follow through with that sequence throughout the day, as he usually did. scythe, hand, soul, bag. when he was growing up, mumza told him that he would be used to it in no time. but as "no time" passed, he still felt like throwing up after each day.
he made his way down the elevator, his shoulders stinging with the weight of his bag. the souls were practically weightless, but gathering so many into his bag made it sag down. he held his scythe with two hands, his arms being too sore to function properly on their own.
tommy was waiting for him at the steps of the palace, ignoring everyone lined up at the doors. his elbow was on his knee, and his face was being held up in his palm. he had been playing with a stone, trying to break it with his fingertips.
"wilbur," he automatically sprung up upon seeing his brother. he used to go in for hugs, however stopped shortly after wilbur started discussing how much he hated them. "mum wants to see you. says its important."
wilbur took time to react to his words, feeling like his bones weren't his. he only hummed an, "oh. okay," as he made his way up the steps, his feet barely dragging behind him.
"wait-" tommy called out, making wilbur almost freeze on cue. "i was.. i was wondering if you wanted to hang out by the fountain.. of wishes. the one up there. like- like we used to..?"
wilbur's breath stalled, stopping in his lungs. he'd barely even remembered it, but was holding back a smile at the memory.
that smile became easy to suppress as it slowly disappeared. he remembered all of it.
"mum doesn't want us talking to phil," was all wilbur muttered. he finally took a breath, his chest rising and falling with a sigh. "sorry."
"its not like that anymore!" tommy tried, throwing his hands up in the air in an almost child-like fashion. "they've changed, phil especially! i talked to him the other day, and-"
"mum doesn't want us talking to phil, tommy," he enunciated it slower this time. watching tommy's shoulders shrink, a sinking grayness fell over his face like a cloud was above him.
"yeah. okay," tommy sighed with a shake of his head. he played with the calloused skin on his fingers. "you're right."
wilbur stood there for a great deal of time. as much as it physically pained him, he felt a trapped sensation in his chest.
"tommy?" he spoke softly, barely enough for the both of them to hear. "you're a good kid."
he left before tommy could respond, expecting the boy to make some stupid remark about how soft he was turning. tommy didn't react that way, however. he stood alone on the steps, taking breaths watching as wilbur walked away.
wilbur made his way past the screaming, impatient people. he was always hateful towards loud noises as they made his skin crawl. he thought maybe that was the reason he hated the angel's voice so much.
there he went again thinking of that stupid angel. if he'd given her any more room in his mind, she'd have to pay the rent.
shaking his head from stupid thoughts, he called his mother's name, gaining her attention.
"wilbur," she spoke softly, her voice too tired from all the demons and ghosts she spoke to. her black hair hung over her face messily, but it was covered by a large lacy hat. "how are you?"
wilbur knew she wasn't actually curious about how he was feeling. it was just a filler for the missing years of his childhood.
"i'm doing well," a lie, "tommy said you wanted to talk to me?"
he saw his mother's face light up, as if she'd just remembered something blatantly obvious. wilbur could imagine her thoughts- "oh, thats my son, i forgot."
she fished for something on a table near her large throne. it looked more shiny than any angel's halo. damn it, why was he thinking about her again?
"here," she handed an envelope to him with her large hand. he hesitated in taking it. "the messenger said it was for you. you don't usually get mail, so i figured it was important."
wilbur stared at the wax seal, the intricate pattern almost painful to stare at for too long. "are you sure this is for me? im not-"
"im so sorry, wilbur," her eyebrows disappeared into the shape of her hat as she put a hand to her black gown. "i have to get going talking to these people," she motioned to the line in front of her. "i also have a super busy day. i have to-"
"its fine, mum," he cut her off just as she did to him. he couldn't feel any remorse for his lack of formality. "you're.. doing great."
he spared himself from the long speech his mother always gave about how busy she was. it was always a drag to hear. tommy said it was her way of indirectly apologizing for not giving him family meals- but wilbur always thought that if he was right, she would directly say it.
in all honesty, however, he missed being able to sit next to someone and eat something.
the black lipstick on her face formed into a smile. "thank you, wilbur," she sighed, her body already facing the demon she was talking to last. "and tell me what the letter is!"
"i will," another lie. he was really great at them because she could barely ever hear them.
as he was going to the soul sorter, he turned the letter over in his hand, squinting at the written address. it read, "hell's palace (if it's real! i've never been there but i've heard about it!) for wilbur!" with a bunch of hearts and smiley faces. wilbur felt himself go sick to the stomach, nearly tripping on himself.
it was probably that stupid angel trying to give him a pity letter that he didn't want. he scowled at the thought as he emptied his bag into the soul sorter.
that dumb little angel, who did she think she was? did she genuinely think that wilbur would soften up to her because of a little letter with hearts all over it?
but as wilbur was coming up with more mean adjectives, items had been rejected from the soul sorter, and fell out.
it was her flower crown and gummy worms.
wilbur felt his angered expression slowly fade away like sand in an hourglass. he stared at the objects on the ground by his feet.
he was reminded of her soft smile as she put the flower crown on his head, her gentle touches to his hair like he was delicate. or how she forced him to eat fucking gummy worms because of his health.
he could feel the tiniest sliver of a smile peeking out from the corners of his lips. no, what was he doing? that angel was always so judgemental of him. from the moment they first met, she was always criticizing his job and she was always being rude to him.
but, she still cared about him.
wilbur didn't know how to react to that thought. his stomach felt like it was clawing its way out of him, and that weird, warm feeling came back to his face. he hated it.
he bent over, picking up the flowers and gummy worms. he held them in his hands and under his robe, just in case someone saw him holding them.
he quickly went up the stairs, cutting the corner to his room so that no one saw him. he set the flowers, gummy worms, and letter on his desk, his hands propping him up. he stared, yet again, at the objects until he realized- he hadn't even opened her letter yet.
he took a sharp inhale, his fist pressed so hard against the table that he didn't even register the fact that his hands were shaking. he leaned back, taking the envelope with him.
sure enough, it was from her.
"dear wilbur!
hi! i hope this delivered to the right address. i thought mail would be easier in the afterlife, but it really isn't. i hope you're okay!! i hope you didn't hate the gummy worms too much and that you are taking care of yourself! get plenty of sleep please.
i was writing to ask if you wanted to meet me for ice cream! i asked phil, and he said that ice cream would melt in hell too, so i wanted to have some with you. i can show you all the good flavors and everything.
it would be tomorrow, i've listed the time and address below. i hope to see you there!
ps. you better come with a full eight hours of sleep!"
he read over the letter at least a thousand times, his eyes glazing all over the hearts and smiley faces that she used to punctuate each sentence. he felt like he was going to throw up his ugly, beating heart. he didn't know if he should write back or even show up.
it would be his first time properly eating in front of someone in a while, and the thought made him nervous, almost.
as if to taunt him, tommy burst into the room, the sudden loud noise making wilbur scream. he hid the letter on his desk behind him.
"woah," tommy put his hand up to almost shush wilbur, as if he were some wild tiger. "calm down, man."
"sorry-" wilbur straightened himself up, coughing out of awkwardness. he felt his skin melting off of him, and he wanted something to make the tense air easier. "tommy, can you cover for me tomorrow?"
oh god. was he really that desperate to start a conversation?
tommy's eyebrows disappeared into his golden tufts of hair, a confused look grazing his face. "you want me to what?"
"cover.. for me?" he couldn't even believe the words he was saying. "i have a.. thing tomorrow-" no he didn't. he wasn't gonna go. "and.. i need someone to do my job."
"what thing? its not like you have a.." tommy's words trailed off as he stared at his brother in terror. "do you?"
"do i have a what..?" wilbur spoke with confusion as tommy gawked at him. he stage whispered, as if someone were watching.
"do you have a date?"
wilbur's chest bloomed with an awful sensation, his heartbeat picking up and pounding against his ribs. "what? no, i-" he felt like his mouth was stuffed with tar and feathers. "no, of course not, tommy."
"okay! okay," the boy held his gloved hands up in defense, backing away from a powder keg in the form of his brother. "but, whatever it is, how do i cover for you?"
wilbur dropped his tensed shoulders. "you always talk about how easy my job seems, right?"
"what?" tommy screeched, his gold wings flinching with him. "but- but you're the prince of death and i'm the prince of life! how am i supposed to do that?"
wilbur felt his stomach churn at the comparison. he hated the way people would always say "the prince of death" like it would curse the next seven generations of life. his eyebrows furrowed like caterpillars above his eyes.
"then at least pretend that i'm working," he muttered. "it's gonna be easy. i'm sure mum won't even notice."
tommy's lips shifted as he bit the inside of his cheek. he knew wilbur was right. mumza barely said hi to him too.
"okay," tommy sighed as his shoulders fell in defeat. he pointed a finger at wilbur, "but you owe me big time!"
wilbur nodded in response, shooing tommy away with a flick of his hand. tommy listened (although not shutting the door properly), and left his brother alone in his room. the letter was still hidden behind him.
he sighed, feeling his lungs shrink intensely. he had no clue what to do or how to pull it off.
wilbur went to sleep earlier that night, trying to fulfill her promise to get eight hours of sleep. when he woke up, he could feel his bones almost moving on their own. it felt odd to not have the burden of being the soul taking grim reaper.
he looked at himself in the mirror. he looked nothing short of depressing.
he walked over to his closet, sighing as he was face to face with the same rotten black robes he wore. people always trashed on tommy for owning the same white, red sleeved shirt, but wilbur wasn't any better with his duplicates.
he groaned, his head falling in a near defeat. though, he could see a small glint of yellow. hesitating, he picked it up, taking off his cloak to put it on.
it was a really old sweater that phil got him many years ago. back before everything went down the gutter. he ran his thumb down the frayed material. by some miracle, it still fit him.
he looked at himself in his mirror, scowling when he saw who stared back. he looked nothing like how he usually did, and that slight bit of color changed him. the yellow fabric, even when old, still popped out more than his pale skin did.
still, something felt like it was missing. his glasses, maybe? he set the frames on his scrunched face, pushing it up his nose with the back of his hand. that didn't seem to work.
he looked over at his desk, his bottom lip plumped out as he thought. he gave a long stare to the flower crown, feeling his chest tighten and warm with a disgusting feeling. he picked up the flower crown- more delicately than he'd like to admit, and placed it on his tufts of brown as he stared at his reflection.
his mouth hung open. he looked completely different now. there were so many colors and shapes for him to process. and were the dark spots under his eyes really that prominent?
although, even with the wave of confusion, it felt almost comforting. he tried his best at a smile, but shook his head. too far.
wilbur shuffled through the underworld quickly, trying his best not to be seen- and especially not by quackity.
"tommy," quackity stage whispered, gaining the boy's attention. "what the hell's he doing?"
tommy took his place beside quackity, looking to where he was pointing. he scowled. "dude, i kid you not, he's got a fucking date."
quackity scoffed a laugh before looking at tommy. his face was still scrunched in disapproval, his wings idle behind him. quackity’s expression dropped. “wait- you’re serious? he’s actually got a date?”
“that’s what i’m thinking!” tommy’s voice screeched suddenly. he looked and sounded like a bird. “i’ve never seen him wearing something so.. colorful. and look at his fucking posture!”
they watched in amusement as wilbur jammed his finger on the elevator button, trying to get the doors open as he looked around frantically. he hadn’t even noticed, but his shoulders were in fact more pushed back.
he stared at his reflection in front of him, bringing a hand into his hair to even it out. flowers were still scattered around in his hair and it was as if he were producing a trail of petals behind him. he let out a groan as the doors finally parted, and he stepped in.
“who is it with?” quackity asked, holding his chin. his other hand was dug into his pocket. a small, rectangular figure lining the fabric. “do you know?”
tommy turned to quackity with a serious look on his face, as if he were speaking about a universe killing secret rather than who wilbur was eating ice cream with. “you didn’t hear it from me,” he emphasized his words, “but i keep overhearing this angel talking to phil about wilbur. its weird- especially when you think about how phil and wilbur think about each other.”
tommy grimaced at his own words. he could tell how much it cut the mood. it was practically taboo to say wilbur and phil’s name in the same sentence- let alone even mention phil in the underworld. even with tommy trying to get them to forgive each other, the thought of them ever eating at the same dinner table was unfathomable.
quackity interrupted the tension filled silence by asking the angel’s name. tommy gave it without a second thought, but eventually had to repeat it for quackity to properly hear. they were stood outside the pit of lost souls, a place that the forgotten demons would go. they served no purpose in hell as long as they were somehow remembered by someone on earth. it was always a loud area, having literal burning souls inside.
“huh..” quackity hummed, repeating the angel’s name again. “you think they’ll become a thing?”
“no, definitely not,” tommy huffed, laughing as if quackity was telling a knock-knock joke. “he’s too grumpy to actually function around another being.”
“i say give the guy some slack! he deserves at least a chance," quackity protested. "twenty bucks."
"you're betting on his love life?" tommy asked, but quackity stood still with a smirk on his face with his hand out. "fine. deal."
as they shook on their bet, tommy grumbled, his wings tensing up with him. a plan was forming itself in quackity’s mind, his hand patting the lining of his shorts.
“he’s probably up there making out with her right now.”
wilbur, in fact, was not. he was standing on the distant sidewalk, watching her from afar. she sat on the concrete with her legs crossed, looking like her mind was in another galaxy. wilbur on the other hand, stood with his clammy hands at his sides. his palms never sweat as badly as this, and it was making him unsettled. he tried his best to wipe his hands off on his sleeve, but it only made them damp and warm. he sucked in a breath, ignoring it and walking up towards her.
when he caught her eye, her never-ending smile only widened. she stood up to properly face him, looking at him from the top of his flower-ridden hair down to his shoes. “wilbur?”
“hi.. hi-” his voice cracked, and he tried to cover it up with a fake cough. now his throat wasn’t working. “um, i didn’t know.. i wasn’t sure if.. i-”
“you look really nice!” she interrupted, saving him the embarrassment. he let out a mix of a smile and a relieved sigh, muttering his thanks. “and it looks like you actually slept.”
“i did,” he mumbled, adjusting the collar of his bunchy sweater. suddenly, he could feel every texture touching his body. “eight hours.. just like you asked..”
“it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she giggled, and the noise stabbed wilbur a thousand times in the stomach.
“actually, it was,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rocking back and forth on his heels with nervousness. “my bed is a literal stone. i wish it were made out of feathers.”
“maybe your dream will come true some time! come on, let’s make a wish,” she tilted her head, closing her eyes and putting her palms together. “i wish wilbur’s bed was made out of feathers!”
“..is that gonna work?” he tilted his head in her direction.
“hm.. i don’t know. but i always like to try it,” she hummed with satisfaction, putting her hands back at her sides. “can i tell you a secret? i’ve always wanted to visit the fountain of wishes.”
the name rung a bell all the way in the back of wilbur’s mind. he remembered his father telling him stories every night about the fountain of wishes. he scowled at the thought of hin. phil would tell wilbur that his only wish was to meet a beautiful woman, but look where that got him.
“what would you wish for?” he asked, trying to shift the gears of his mind.
“i don’t know,” she said, contently, leaning forward to grab his hand. “maybe i’ll think of something later.”
wilbur flinched, something she didn’t see because she was dragging him into the store. he wondered if she could feel how damp and warm his palms were, but it looked like she didn’t mind. for some reason, their hands seemed to magically fit together like puzzle pieces.
his mind was churning again, thinking about the unknown feeling running through him. he felt suddenly aware of everything around him, and it was awful. yet, she kept giggling and smiling like it was just another day. he envied her power of optimism, even if it was the same thing he disliked about her.
uncomfortably, his mind felt as if he was put in a room of a thousand people, contributing and understanding each one of their conversations. as overwhelming as it was, it was how his brain regularly worked. how he somehow managed to get even an ounce of sleep every night, he'll never know.
his thoughts were unraveling before he could roll them back up, feeling tired of aimlessly following the long film of this and that and-
"do you have a favorite flavor?"
it all snapped away.
"uh- um, well, um-"
how was she able to do that?
"oh, right," she giggled. somehow, in the thousand person room that took place in his mind, her small laugh was the only thing bouncing off his skull. "you've never had ice cream before."
unable to process the sudden quiet of his mind, he simply shook his head. "n-no, i haven't."
"try this!" she held out a scoop of her favorite flavor and wilbur stared at it like it was a cure to the common cold.
shakily, he took it. even if it only existed as a transparent-phantom thing, he was surprised that it didn't slip out of his sweaty hands.
"do.. do i bite-"
"just give it a small lick. i know it'll be cold, but it'll taste good," her words felt like a small promise to him, the most comforting thing he'd heard in a while. yet, it was like talking about the weather to her.
god, what was the feeling? he couldn't exactly pinpoint it at all.
he followed her directions, scrunching his brows in a slight concern as he stuck his tongue out. she was right, it was cold. terribly cold. he thought his tongue would get stuck to it like in the old christmas movies tommy forced him to watch.
and yet, it tasted terribly good. it was such an unfamiliar feeling on his tongue, but it somehow had a certain kick that he enjoyed.
he smacked his lips a couple times, and nodded slightly, mumbling his words. "y-yeah, i like that one."
"great!" she spoke, going over to grab the ice cream scooper. the real thing stood still on the table, but the translucent version was in her hands as she scooped up some of the flavor. as long as she put it back in the right place, nothing would be messed up too badly.
as she finished up scooping her cone, she sighed dramatically. "oh gods, i forgot to get cash."
"you don't need to give him cash, angel, he won't even notice."
his tongue went numb- not from the ice cream, but from the small nickname he'd given her.
it was a small gesture, and he could probably play it off, but it stirred his intestines until he felt like throwing them up. he'd never willingly give someone a nickname. ever.
and the worst part? she noticed.
"did you call me angel?" she stopped her fit of panic over invisible cash to look at him, the corner of her mouth lifting in an asymmetrical smile.
"well- yeah, because you're.. you're an angel," wilbur stumbled, unable to pull something out of thin air. he's lied many times. to his mom, to tommy, to quackity. but for some reason lying to her didn't feel right on his tongue. "a-and you.. have a halo.. and stuff.."
she noticed how he fiddled with his fingers, and decided to spare him of the embarrassment by switching the topic to her day. she seemed passionate with talking about every small thing she'd done, and wilbur admired her attitude.
wilbur prided himself in his writing. his pen and paper were like a magical escape from his burdens. he had a specific way with words that would always get him praised by his parents when he was younger. but despite that, he was completely lost on a word to describe his feelings.
she dragged him back outside without a care in the world, looking around like she owned the place. she pointed to a bench, talking about how it was her favorite bench (to which wilbur began to wonder how one could have a favorite bench), and began guiding them towards it.
in the midst of her excitement, however, she made a wrong step on the curb and yelped. wilbur noticed this quickly, bringing a quick hand to her waist to catch her.
"woah, are you alright-?" he brought her back up carefully, checking to make sure that her and her ice cream were still intact. he checked both off in his mind.
"yeah- yeah i'm fine-" she muttered, and it was the first time he'd ever seen a glint of gloominess on her face. "sorry- that was embarrassing-"
"no need to be embarrassed," wilbur's tone was calm. not a monotone calm, but an assuring calm. one that was stranger to her too.
his hand remained still on her waist, his fingers trembling in such small beats. “wilbur?” her gaze slowly met his, and she could see a small droplet of worry beneath the pools of his irises. “can i tell you something?”
he nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing in such a concerned manner that it almost cut his forehead in half. with his hand still on her waist, he guided her carefully to the bench.
she looked at the pavement, her words coming out in a string of small mumbles that made him feel like they were the only two beings ever. just him, an angel, and a bench. “i don’t.. i don’t usually tell people this,” she fiddled with the hem of her dress, her wings draping over the back of the bench. “but.. the- the way i-i d..”
wilbur stared at the angel- the carefree, optimistic, happy angel; while she broke down bit by bit. he felt like he was almost breaking the law, that he wasn’t allowed to see such a sight. but most importantly, he felt like he needed to help.
he was always gentle, there was no denying it. he spent a lot of time as a child examining bugs (which he called “friends”) and making sure they were okay. and the urge to care for anything in need grew with him, even as everything else changed.
he noticed that his hand was still on her hip, and he drew her closer to his body. the small gesture made her startled, but she quickly grew accustomed to his touch. she felt safe, and wilbur knew that.
she took a deep breath, and spoke. “we were playing a game of hide-and-seek,” she whispered, “i-i was always clumsy, everyone made fun of me.. nobody..”
her words trailed off again, and wilbur felt his heart aching. “nobody..?”
“nobody really.. liked.. me,” she huffed, her face turning away from him. he could tell that she didn’t speak about this much. “everyone hated me, actually. like you do..”
his heart was wrapped in thorns.
it was the clearest thing she’d said. like she had so much time to think about it and deduct it. he wanted to say something, wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and scream at her. but he didn’t. he couldn’t- he felt paralyzed.
“i guess i tripped and fell or something, a-and i-” a bile swelled her throat. “it hurt. a lot. i was- i was screaming and crying for help b-but everyone ignored me. except for..”
her head lifted as she looked at him. it was the type of look in which he could study each pigment on her face, and he’d be able to use the rosiness of her cheeks to paint a breathtaking portrait.
“except for you.”
she smiled. and even through tears, her expression lit up the earth.
“me?” he whispered softly.
immediately, she nodded. she was so close to his face that she could see a tiny cut to the right of his adam’s apple. she suppressed a giggle as she thought about him struggling to shave, making all sorts of faces into his mirror.
“i was so scared and alone.. and then you came along with your big scythe and your scary hood. and you plunged your scythe into me chest- gods, i was so scared,” she giggled briefly at the thought, but her expression was genuine. “but you gave me peace.”
she leaned closer, wanting to wrap her arms around him and die a second time like that. but she knew he’d hate it.
“it was all i wanted in that moment.”
his eyes were droopy, staring from her left eye, to her right, and down at her parted lips. she was nothing short of beautiful. looking at her for that long felt like a mere privilege, forcing him to be speechless.. he squeezed her hip tighter just to hold her.
“i.. i wanted to thank you..” she whispered, so quiet that her vocal chords barely buzzed.
in his peripheral vision, he noticed how her eyelids fluttered softly. his sight blurred as she leaned in closer, and-
“but you always hated me.”
she leaned back in the seat, and wilbur’s disappointment split him in two. she was right there- right fucking there, but she was so out of reach. the only barrier? his own loathing. the irony of hating his hatred felt like a stab wound to his thorn-crowned heart.
and the worst part; she was unphased.
wilbur gulped as a stack of words piled themselves in his throat. that nasty, overwhelming feeling running through him again. “angel, i-”
“so, what’s your favorite color?” she asked in a light tone, licking at her ice cream.
a wave of dismay washed over his face. he couldn’t think. “t-teal?”
“really? i wouldn’t have guessed that,” she swung her legs beneath the bench, clearly unbothered by wilbur’s confusion. “you don’t really dress like a teal-lover. do you think the moon is real?"
what?
"no, bad question. hmm. what’s your favorite band?”
his heart fell into the pit of his stomach, thorns poking at his sides creating a terrible sting on his abdomen. he opened his mouth to speak- maybe cry and release his feelings; but nothing came up. not even an answer to her stupid question. it was nauseating.
she began talking about the sort of music she liked, but none of it struck his brain. he felt sick. he wanted to scream and sob and punch something. but he sat still like he was posing for a renaissance painting.
“hey, that reminds me,” she stood up abruptly, pointing her finger upwards, despite going unnoticed by wilbur. “i gotta get cash for the ice cream man! i’ll be right back.”
he didn’t even realize she spoke, even when she was repeating his name and trying to get his attention.
why was he disappointed at the lost opportunity? why did he want to curl up in a ball and tug his hair out? what was that stupid feeling that was haunting him all afternoon? it was tearing him apart limb by limb. what was the word, what was-
oh.
oh.
it was love. he loved her. it was as simple as a four letter word.
the last time he told someone he loved them, he was begging his father not to leave. as he watched the man- the god- his father walk away, he realized that the word meant nothing. it only brought him pain; and if he didn't love, he didn't have to feel that agony.
his stomach turned, breathing becoming alarmingly shallow. too many memories flushed his mind, and his throat tightened.
"hello? wilbur?"
"don't come back." he stood up suddenly, ice cream falling to the ground next to him.
"what?" she flinched, staring up at him with terror on her face that he didn't even read. he was so blinded by his anger. the light of her halo flickered.
"i said, don't come back." it was almost a subconscious thing, how he lifted his hand into his hair and threw the flower crown onto the sidewalk. right next to his ice cream.
his throat burned harshly. all of his muscles tensed up in such a way that definitely wasn't healthy. he could barely even hear his own words through the pounding in his ears, and he most importantly couldn't hear her heart ripping in two.
"wilbur-"
"stop. stop this. stop following me everywhere, stop- stop acting like you care-" his hands balled up into fists at his sides, "stop everything! i never want to see you again!"
and that was all that was needed for her to turn around and fly off, and that was all that he needed for him to realize what a complete moron he was.
his walk home was nothing short of shameful. and this time he walked through hell with messy flower petals in his hair and a stupid yellow sweater and dumb tears in his eyes.
he didn't realize that quackity, a man who was about to lose twenty dollars, was watching him from afar. he cursed under his breath, biting his bottom lip until his hand brushed against his pocket.
tommy's keycard.
-
he looked at himself in the reflection of a lava pool, making all sorts of scrunchy and over dramatic faces. he experimented with the way the hood fell over his hair and how it made his furrowed eyebrows look.
he made his way to the elevator, admiring how the scythe looked when he tossed it around in his hands. and when it asked for a confirmation of identity, he pulled out the keycard, swiping it before anyone could see.
he'd continue to try to do tricks with the scythe until he got to the top, waving a hand to the guard until he realized he had to stay in character. his lips suddenly pursed and his eyes became hooded.
to his delight, an angel was there waiting for him.
"wilbur-" she stood up suddenly, her hands shaking at her sides. the light in her tear filled eyes was nearly gone, the glow of her halo barely there. "i wanted to a-apologize-"
"come with me," he spoke, as monotone as he could. his hand reached out towards her, and she hesitantly took it.
with uncertainty written all over her face, she spoke nervously. "where.. where are we going-?"
"i want to make up for what.. happened.. last night.." he muttered, dragging her underground.
she held her flickering halo carefully as they zoomed to the elevator, watching him jam the buttons with his finger. she'd never seen someone so eager.
as soon as the doors parted, he forced her inside with such an anticipation she couldn't pinpoint. it made her feel uneasy, how weird he had been acting.
"wilbur?" her voice came out as more of a squeak, taking his other hand in hers. she looked right at him with swelled eyelids. "this.. this isn't a trick, is it?"
his eyes widened, eyebrows unknotting a crease on his forehead. "what?" he practically laughed, "why- why would it be a trick?"
"i don't know.. you just seem.." her voice wavered, eye contact faltering. "nevermind, it's stupid."
"look at me, love," the nickname was.. new. "i don't want to hurt you. i'm gonna make everything up, okay?"
she hummed an agreement, eyes fluttering to make contact with his. his face was soft, just like the other night. but something seemed missing.
"i wanna show you everything about my home," the excitement in his voice was almost raw. "i live in a palace, did you know that?"
"i didn't," she smiled, a forced one. "are you gonna show me around?"
at that, the elevator's doors opened, and she was hit with a sudden wave of heat that nearly made her fall over.
and he almost didn't catch her.
tears started to swell up her eyes as she clung onto his arm, nails digging into broken fabric. soft yelps came out of her mouth.
"love, are you alright?" he spoke worriedly, and the amount of emotion in his voice made her even more lightheaded.
"i-i am-" she whispered, getting back onto her feet. "its just- y'know- what.. what i told you last night..?"
he nodded his head, a soft "oh" coming out of his mouth. but it didn't seem like an ounce of actual empathy lied behind his eyes. a tint of red glazed it instead. she felt odd.
did he not remember? or did he choose not to?
when she was able to walk properly, he led her around. if it wasn't for the burning pit in her stomach, she'd be extremely excited. but she had a feeling that something deeper was lying under the lava pools.
"this is the palace," he sighed, gesturing to the building. "isn't it cool?"
"it is.." she muttered. this awe, she could not fake. the large, intricate structures of gold and red and the occasional fire bounced off her glassy eyes. "can we go inside? maybe you can show me your room-"
"i.." he stiffened up suddenly. "i don't think that's a good idea."
"oh.." she muttered, trying to read his firm facial expression. but she couldn't.
a thick silence fell upon them. the only noticeable thing was how her halo flicked on and off with inconsistent beats.
"hey, i have to.. do something.. how about you stay here until i'm finished, okay? maybe you can talk to my mom or.. or talk to the hellhounds," his voice was unconvincing, but she still nodded, even as disappointed as she was.
and she watched him walk away, turning the corner away from her. she couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of disgust rummaging through her. the constant stares of demons around her didn't make anything better.
her feelings were mixed. maybe he's having a good day or- or maybe he's really considering peace between them.
but what if it really was a trick?
her soft facial expressions fell into her lap, weighing her options. she always sought to find the good in people, always trying and trying to think positive. but even after she revealed everything- everything she couldn't admit out loud, he turned her away. and there was no right explanation for that, no matter how beautiful his palace was.
she straightened up, fists clenched at her sides. she wasn't going to take it. after going through so much of his hatred for so long, she didn't like him practically making fun of her death. she hated it.
she was going to look for him and tell him all of her raw feelings.
as he rounded the corner, his back hit the wall and his knees failed. his breathing was labored as he ran a blackened hand through his changing hair. he could feel the skin literally crawl off of him, and he was delighted to have his normal look back.
quackity sighed against the wall, catching up to his quickened breath. "now all he has to do is find her. and they're forced to make up. and i win my twenty bucks," he muttered under his lips. "god, quackity, you genius."
his laughs felt amazing to churn out. pretending to be wilbur was exhausting him to the core, but it was worth each and every penny of the twenty dollars he'd be receiving soon.
but, through all of his buzzing victory, he didn't notice an angry little angel looking for a certain grim reaper. he didn't notice her stomping around with her fists clenched at her sides.
and he definitely didn't notice her tripping and falling into the pit of lost souls.
-
wilbur's day went on horribly.
he didn't get any sleep. not that this was any different from usual; but this time his night was spent tossing and turning in his stone bed trying to think of how he was going to talk to her.
his bones ached when he got up, and no amount of stretches could heal the knot in his neck.
work was even worse. especially considering the fact that everytime he heard some sort of high pitched noise, he'd think it was a little angel fluttering her wings at him, and then he'd be able say the speech he had written up in his mind.
he was regretting his word choice of "i never want to see you again" on top of his regret for the rest of his blown out word vomit.
but as he walked from the elevator to his palace, he couldn't help but hear a sort of cry for help. and it sounded oddly similar to the angel's.
"wilbur? w-wilbur.. i know- i know you hate me but this- this hurts -"
was it?
"its not fffunny anymore- i know you got your kick out of tricking- me- but this is- ow!"
it couldn't be.
"i won't bother you again! i promise! just please- let- let me out of here- help me.. please..? it's- it's -"
he'd been hearing her voice in his head all day in somewhat intervals. but this felt more real, more raw.
he stumbled on his feet. he knew where it was coming from. he heard noises of desperate cries from it everyday, but the thought that this might be real? it scared him to his core.
worry rushed over him quicker than second thought, and he rushed over to the pit of lost souls in a panic. hoarse, raspy screams of "angel!" flew out of his throat as he scrambled to climb the volcano-like structure.
-
she still had a lot of questions for wilbur.
not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "wilbur? hello? please help- this hurts- are you still there?"
and she was starting to lose hope in the fact that those questions might be answered.
one things for sure; her curiosity will be the death of her.
unless he's got the courage to do something about it.
11.4k || 8.12.23 || masterlist here!
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thank you so much for your read, i appreciate all of the support <33 a part two is indeed coming soon!! stay tuned
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i dont post on here a ton but i gotta say the growing attitude on tumblr that voting in the US is somehow useless is really concerning.
just recently i saw this post that was basically making fun of people saying that voting was the way to change the system, and that's just.. wrong? like seriously, how do you think roe v. wade got overturned? its because despite everything, republicans are smart voters and now how to play the long game.
but leftists as of late have lost that quality i feel. instead of advocating for people to vote, they advocate for some "revolution" they think will solve everything. among the people in the post mentioned earlier being glorified as revolutionaries were mao zedong and stalin, and when asked why the poster was glorifying these horrific figures, they said, "yes. Mao freed my family and stalin defeated the fascists. Get with the program sugar"
do you notice anything about that? do you notice how it sounds like the way a child describes the world? "stalin defeated the fascists" like he's some hero who defeated the evil horde of thieves? the way things like the red guard, struggle sessions, all of that, are completely ignored on the side of Mao? how this person, despite having a trans flag in their pfp, is ignoring how the utterly homophobic state of the Chinese government at present is the fault of Mao? how they ignore horrific things such as the Gulag on side of Stalin? this person cannot think, and the only way they believe that the world can move forward is a revolution, and revolution's don't work when the people advocating for them do nothing.
maybe one could argue that this was just a one off type of thing, and that all of the thousands of people liking and reblogging this post are just weirdos. but whether or not thats true, this growing sentiment of praying to a revolution that will never come is indeed growing. and its not just like these people stay in their lane, they actively encourage and probably will cause people to not vote.
so i want to remind everybody. elections are not a moral choice. joe biden is complicit and actively funding a genocide, but not voting for him, third party or not (if you still think third parties are viable please look into the history behind them), will make it more likely that trump will win, and that things in palestine and other things that joe biden has failed in will get 1000x worse. candidates in elections are a bus stop to the real goal, and treating them as such is smart voting, republicans proved this with the overturning of roe v. wade.
please do not be selfish. this last bit may seem out of nowhere, but i need to say this. this type of thinking is selfish. it is selfish and almost impossible to detect as such for the people who believe in it. if you are the type of person who believes in this style of thinking, you have created a completely arbitrary moral code, and care more about your conscience than real political change. you believe yourself to have completely good morals that are universally good, and for the consequences of following these morals, you don't consider the real change that will occur, just your conscience and peace of mind. as for what happens because of that moral code, you will always find a way around looking inwards to how you contributed.
this election season may be the most important yet, please learn to take the practical route instead of the "pure" route.
#free palestine#palestine#israel#gaza#free gaza#israel palestine conflict#tw war#tw violence#tw war crimes#current events#us politics#us presidential election#voting#socialist revolution#anarchy#anarchism#leftism#socialist#revolution#vote#us elections#please vote#american politics#communist revolution#genocide#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#ceasefire
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bravery and its unique manifestations.
summary. huohuo's baby sibling has always been bolder than her.
trigger & content warnings. none applicable.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. huohuo & younger sibling!foxian!reader, mr. tail & reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.
author's thoughts. mr tail is so dad coded
huohuo tries her very best to be brave for her baby sibling, [name].
they admire her so very and deeply and earnestly—this, she knows for certain. it would be impossible for her not to know. with the way their eyes grow wide with awe and the way they bounce on their heels, excitedly telling her all about how they want to be just like her when they get older (even though huohuo is barely any older than her baby sibling, and she's unsure if her little heart would be able to handle them being a spiritfarer too…), the way they brag to everyone they meet about how their big sister is just the coolest foxian on the luofu… she would have to be completely and entirely oblivious to not take notice, and even then, she's certain that mr. tail would scoff and point it out to her with a remark about how airheaded she must have been to not realize.
huohuo knows. they admire her more than anyone else on the luofu.
so, she does her best to be brave. [name] thinks she's the most awesome person in the universe! if she didn't at least try to live up to their interpretation of her, then what kind of a big sister would she be..? truly, she does not wish to disappoint them. she would never get over it, never forgive herself, if she did.
she does her best to strengthen her resolve—horror movies at the latest hours of the night, taking on more responsibilities as a spiritfarer, and even going as far as to ask mr. tail to somehow scare her a bit. she just wants to be brave. if not for herself, if not for xueyi and hanya, if not for anyone else in the entire universe, then for her sibling.
even after all of that, though, some fears are not so easily tackled. aeons, she can't help but go stuttery and quiet when someone berates her.
her little sibling has always been bolder than her. they've always been able to stand up for themselves, always been able to keep their chin up, always been able to persevere… they are, in an ironic way, everything she wishes she could be, everything she hopes that she will be one day. just as they wish to be like her, so too does she wish to be like them.
given their sparky attitude, it's no surprise that when they overhear someone berating their big sister, they zip over at the speed of light… or possibly even faster with how they're almost tripping grown adults due to hardly watching where they're going.
mr. tail has already taken to yelling at the one who so boldly dared to talk down to huohuo—that is something only he can do, how dare some random resident think that they also have that right—by the time [name] has gotten to huohuo's side. she tries her best to quickly dry her tears for them. despite her face not being completely dry, [name] doesn't even seem to notice, for immediatly after reaching her side and letting mr. tail finish, they yell:
"yeah! what mr. tail said!" they shout, little foot stomping onto the ground as they cross their arms. their attempt at a scowl really just looks like a pout. simply put, they are not intimidating in the slightest ('cute' might be a better word to describe the little fuming foxian), but the choice of words that follow are certainly silencing: "shut up! who do you think you are to talk to big sister like that?! don't ever say those idiotic things again, you got it?! she's a judge! who the hell are you to talk to her that way?!"
it's quiet for a moment.
then, the perpetrator-turned-victim queitly, awkardly shuffles away. mr. tail chuckles—it could be argued that the sound is fond in its nature, but he would never admit that to anyone. "you tell 'em, pup—"
their chest puffs out proudly.
"—but next time, do it without sayin' hell again, got that?"
they pout. "fine…"
please consider reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment, it helps me out quite a lot!
#aphelion's drabbles 🌸#favoniuslibrary#platonic hsr#platonic hsr x reader#platonic honkai star rail#platonic honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#huohuo x reader#platonic huohuo x reader
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i am 110% convinced that grogu is yoda and yaddle’s kid. i have this whole theory, but that aside, it’s just funny to think about yoda and yaddle arguing over how to parent and everything and then both of them just dying/disappearing in the end (that would also make yoda a deadbeat which suits him)
"realistically its very unlikely two devoted jedi broke the code like that and saying everyone in sw is related creates a weird and questionable dynastic theme" vs "yoda deadbeat dad jokes funny"
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Hail to the King
Chapter 2: It All Comes Back to You
Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.
Tw: masturbating (male) hints of trauma and past abusive relationship, drinking, a lil more of possessive and creepy Miguel.
AN: I have to say I feel like some of this might be kinda shitty because it was a bit rushed, but I also hate slow paced plots, so I guess I can’t help it. Hope you like it!
You.
The world was blurry as your eyes lost focus for a bit. Nothing seemed real. You thought you might wake up and everything would be normal again. No crazy mob bosses, no blow jobs in the office, no scheduled sex, none of it.
Who the fuck was this guy?
His life was so far from any type of common man’s that you were almost impressed. Fine pressed designer suits, women on their knees during his lunch break, meetings about hard drugs. For a building so beautifully kept and full of charming people, it sure was a mystery. Was everyone just sleeping with different people throughout the day? Were they also snorting lines off of the bathroom counter or cooking meth in the kitchen? What other dirty deeds were done in this place?
Lyla knocked on your door, saying something about setting up your new phone and calendar.
“And the blue events in the calendar are strictly private for Miguel.” She added, to which you saw that- yep. That meeting was blue. You mentally slapped yourself in the face and listened to the rest of what she had to say.
“Ok, that should be it. Your new phone is set up, and it also has the company card connected to it already, so you don’t need a physical card. Miguel set me a message about your shopping spree later, but I raised the budget he gave you to an extra ten thousand. Just in case ya really need something that might cross that line. And whatever you get, I do the paperwork so I’ll just write it up as an investment, like our donations to charity.” She shrugged and turned, blowing you a little kiss as she exited the room.
Your mind assaulted your conscious thoughts once she was gone, remembering how he looked only thirty minutes ago. Head back in ecstasy, eyes never wavering from yours as he orgasmed and slammed up into that girl's throat. You shivered from the memories and stood up abruptly, needing to move around before the warmth in your core spread and created any type of physical arousal.
Your phone buzzed, seeing Miguel’s name light up the screen. Unlocking your phone, only the words ‘Come to my office now.’ showed up and your feet began to move towards your door when you stopped.
A million thoughts danced behind your eyes and you smirked, tired of him already.
‘No.’ is all you answered before exiting your office and shutting the door loudly behind you so he knew you’d be gone. You confidently walked to the elevator and tossed your hair over your shoulder. He wanted your unfiltered thoughts? Well then, he had no idea what he signed up for.
Standing in the elevator, you saw him walk out of his office as well and make eye contact with you, making you flash back to what you’d seen earlier.
In seconds, you realized something as you stood ten feet away now. He knew you wouldn’t know about the color coded schedule. He planned that little power play. He was showing his dominance, like a dog peeing on his territory. A show of who was in charge and what you were to him. A plaything.
This split second of awareness made you even more confident in your defiance, as you saw him begin to close in on the elevator. The doors began to close and you smiled, waving to him right before they shut.
The ride to the lobby was serene, like the calm after the storm. Your day had been intense to say the least. A lot of arguing, thinking, absorbing, and borderline sexual assault on your eyes. But it wasn’t a bad day. In fact, this all gave you a thrill you didn’t know you needed.
Once on the ground floor, you walked outside and waved to a taxi, getting in once one stopped. Scrolling over the list you were given by Lyla, you stopped at one stare in particular.
“Take me to Hermès.” And you were gone.
Standing in the dressing room, the whole world felt like a scene from Pretty Woman. You twirled in tight, business dresses that you thought they only wore in movies about billionaires with red rooms. The color of your favorite so far was a lightweight white dress, but it seemed a bit much for the office, so you tucked it away and decided if you needed a sexy dress for an event, you’d pull it out.
You’d decided to go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue, where you’d been fired the previous day, and eat lunch right where this all had begun.
Sitting at a table, you requested Peter kindly and he made his way over in an instant. “I am so sorry, it was completely out of my control! I didn’t-“ he apologized and you just shook your head.
“It’s ok. I understand now. How about you get me a white wine and we call it water under the bridge?” You requested and he nodded, fetching it with hast. It was a great meal and once you were done, you gave Peter and Gwen both a hug.
“You know, since you technically got a huge promotion, we should celebrate! Go out tonight, get some drinks?” Gwen asked and you quickly agreed. A few drinks sounds exactly like what you needed.
Now beyond overstimulated, you made your way home with around thirty thousand dollars worth of clothing.
And when you saw a moving truck outside of your complex, you remembered that you were indeed moving.
Hours of tossing shit in boxes and taping them closed, you were packed and in the moving van on your way to your new apartment. You were still reeling with this whole world and how quickly things had spun into a web of insanity.
Leaning your head back against the side of the van, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the reality began to sink in.
Arriving at your new place, the large men brought in the big pieces of furniture you decided to keep, which was really just your couch, bed, and coffee table. Everything else was unneeded and ugly anyway. You tried to help as much as possible, but quickly opted for carrying in boxes and garbage bags you’d packed in a rush. It was over just as quickly as it started and soon, you were sitting on your floor cross legged and staring at the boxes, then glanced at the shopping bags that were full of expensive dresses and clothing. That sounded like a lot more fun than unpacking your old sweats and knickknacks.
Pulling everything out and placing it on hangers, your eyes glanced at a specific outfit you’d chosen that’d be perfect to celebrate with Gwen tonight. Pulling on a white halter dress, you enjoyed the little bits of side boob and the way the thigh had a slit that showed more skin. The light fabric made it comfortable and easy to move in, and with a quick pair of strappy heels with sparkling rhinestones all over from Jimmy Choo, you grabbed your new Louis Vuitton purse and smiled. Maybe this job would be so terrible.
Texting Gwen, you also decided to invite Lyla and Jess. Lyla agreed to come out, whereas Jess said she didn’t have a sitter for the boys and would come out once her husband got home from work. A girls night was exactly what you needed, and everything about the feeling of hopping on the train and getting eyes from a few good looking men made you hum with pride. Ignoring all of the bullshit from the past two days, you liked Gwen a lot and she’s become someone you trusted even only knowing her for about a week. She had an authenticity about her that made you feel like she was honest and brave.
Lyla also made you laugh with how she always had something to say back. Her fun loving attitude was one you almost felt jealous of, how she seemed so relaxed. Jessica had a bad ass vibe to her, like everything she did could be documented and made into a comic or story. Like some sort of legend in the making.
You wanted to be like them in so many ways, you’d have to start taking notes and learning how they seemed to be so damn cool.
Stepping off the train and hurrying towards the club Gwen suggested, you couldn’t help but smile. You’re first time clubbing in Nueva York! It was so exciting, seeing people waiting outside of the club in a long line like in movies you’d seen. Waving to Gwen, who was already on line, you caught up with her. Her outfit fit her so well, a black shirt leather jacket over a dark silver mini dress with black tights with rips in them and black platform boots with chains down the sides. She looked like a rockstar, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. She smiled wide and grabbed your hand.
“This is going to be so much fun!” She added and you couldn’t agree more. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab yours from behind and saw a familiar pair of heart shaped glasses.
“Lyla!” Gwen cheered before you even turned around fully, all hugging together. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, how’s Mr. Grumpy pants?” The blonde asked and Lyla just rolled her eyes.
“Cranky as usual, but he comes in handy for some things. Follow me.” She pulled you both out of the line and to the front where many people were giving you all dirty looks. A security guard only took a second to look at Lyla and moved the ropes for her and you to come in, not even bothering to check your ids. You looked at Gwen in surprise and she just nodded, as if telling you to keep your cool.
The club was packed beyond belief, and a girl in a bodysuit and fishnets let you to a large booth-table with velvet black couches and a large bottle of champagne on the table. “Who did this?”
“I may have called ahead and three around Miguel’s name.” Lyla shrugged, grabbing a flute of champagne and filling it with the bubbly alcohol. She handed you each one more and tilted her glass to inspire a toast. “To our new recruit in the Spider society!” She cheersed and you blushed at the attention, Gwen whooping and hollering. The thrum of the heavy bass and heat from the moving bodies made you almost lightheaded, enjoying the free feeling from the liquid in your cup. Another bottle was brought out once Jess arrived and the four of you swayed a bit to the beat, to which you grabbed Gwen’s hand and attempted to pull her to the dance floor. Lyla followed with Jess and you all moved, swaying your hips to the rap playing in the dim lights. The flash of Lyla’s phone camera made you cover your face a little, still smiling and not stopping your dance, swiveling in a seductive motion and feeling the heat between your legs begin to rise from the feeling of the eyes around you watching. Jess nudged you and pointed to a man at the bar, a bit taller and thin in a dress shirt. You made eye contact with the man and the temperature of your chest rose once more. You made your way over to where he was, raising a hand at the bartender as you ordered a drink. He leaned over and spoke.
“On my tab.” His voice was low, eyes catching yours once more and making you feel very aware of your surroundings. A blush creeped onto your face and you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself and you returned the favor, shaking his hand gently. Big Sean pumped around you both as you talked for what felt like an hour, light conversation giving you a feeling similar to a high. It had been a while since you’d enjoyed speaking to someone like this, chemistry and familiarity.
“Is that you?” You heard someone speak from behind you and call your name, turning to face the last person you thought would be in front of you.
“Eddie?” You gasped, fear coursing through the previously hot blood in your veins, cold as ice now from this familiar face. “How did you-”
“I heard you moved here a few weeks ago and came to visit. Nothing like a friendly face, right?” You searched around for your female friends in vain, finding no one you even recognized. He slipped his hand into yours, frozen with horror as he squeezed, something you knew was actually a warning. “How about we find somewhere to talk?”
“Actually, I’m with my coworkers, now is a bad time.” You tried to remove your hand from his and felt him unrelenting, his grip tightening. “Please, not here.” You begged, pleading with him and knowing you’d get nowhere.
“There you are!” Jess’s voice rang through as she pushed through the crowd, Lyla and Gwen behind her. “We’re about to get another bottle- who’s this?” She raised a brow questioningly at Eddie, who stepped closer with a small smile.
“I’m Eddie, nice to meet you,” He shook her hand and her eyes glanced to yours, hopefully seeing the feeling of terror you were trying to show her.
“Right,” Jess pulled you closer to her and slipped her arm into yours, “well, sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re having a girls only night, so she’ll have to talk to you another time.” Jess secured her hand around your arm and smiled, knowing exactly what you needed. Behind you, Lyla had signaled security and had them coming closer, but a voice made everyone stop moving instantly.
“Actually, I think it’s time we all go.” A deep voice said from your right and you looked up to see your boss.
“How-“ Gwen asked but was quickly cut off by the glare Miguel sent her.
“I saw the videos Lyla posted and came to celebrate as well.” From his body language, that definitely was not his true intentions, but you were left in the dark as Jess and Lyla looked extremely nervous, like they’d just got caught doing something very bad.
Gwen leg the way out as Jess and Lyla followed, to which you began to walk forward with them, but a hand grabbed your wrist once more and you came face to face with Harry, who’d been caught in the crossfire of your drama.
“When will I see you again?” He begged slightly, a small smile on his lips until Miguel stood in between you two and sneered at him a bit.
“Get your hands off my employee.” His voice was dangerous, a presence only a lion would challenge. Without letting anyone interject, he dragged you out through the crowd and into the street lights. A hoard of men in black clothing stood outside with the girls, seemingly waiting for you and Miguel. You all climbed into a black SUV where all of the seats faced each other and both Jess and Lyla hung their heads, Gwen holding your hand in concern.
“What the hell was that, Lyla?!” His voice was loud, accusatory. “Are you trying to start a fight?”
“Of course not, I just wanted to-“
“I don’t even want to hear it. And you, Jess? You should know better than anyone what that could have led to!” His tone made you coward backwards a bit, Jess unwavering in her confidence.
“Who do you think you’re speaking to like that? Lyla and I were with her and Gwen, we were perfectly safe.” She defended and Lyla nodded, Gwen looking up just as confused as you.
“What are you guys talking about?” You asked quietly and as if he just noticed you were there, his eyes were cautious. Everything was silent for a moment before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“That nightclub is owned by another mob in Nueva, a smaller one, but it would still be a problem if anything else had happened. They would think I sent spies to their club.” He added the end as an example. You looked down as Gwen rubbed your shoulder from worry.
“I’m taking you all to a different club, one that won’t cause any unnecessary issues-“
“Actually…” you started and but your lip before continuing. “I think I just want to go home. I’m too tired to stay out.” You didn’t dare look up at anyone else, eyes trained on your shinny shoes that you were so excited about a few hours ago. How did everything keep happening so fast?
The car stopped outside of your building and you got out, followed by Miguel. He tapped the top of the car and the rest of the girls were sent home. You both walked in and onto the elevator.
“I don’t need an escort-“
“This is also my building.” He interrupted you and you finally looked up at him, watching as his eyes stayed focused on the buttons of the elevator. He tapped your floor and then the top floor. Of course he had the penthouse.
You stayed soundless, the exhaustion finally hitting you and making you drag your feet. The doors opened and you glanced at him before just walking out.
“By the way.” He spoke before you could walk too far, turning to look into his eyes for the first time that night. “Next time my office door is shut, remember to knock.” The metal doors closed and the memory of him fucking into that woman’s throat was then fresh on your mind.
Miguel’s head fell back against the metal. Lyla had posted those videos of you dancing on her account and he’d seen them when she started not answering his messages, then watching how you moved your body in that adorable white dress. And the way it moved up your thighs while you danced-
Miguel opened his eyes as the ding of the elevator sounded that he’d reached his penthouse. Walking into his dining room, he shed himself from the suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt, stretching his shoulders and tossing the shirt into a hamper close to his closet. Unbuckling his belt, Miguel let out a breath of relief as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable. Sitting down on his bed, he reached for his laptop and settled under the covers. Scrolling through a few documents, he pulled up his background search of you. Your photo popped up with some of your social media. Pictures from the beach, a few from birthdays, and some family photos, you seemed completely normal.
But something was off.
Miguel knew he was intimidating, it was part of his stature that made his job a little easier. You weren’t afraid of him, you kept your ground and fought back to him.
But tonight, you had fear in your eyes when you saw that guy. What was his name again? Adam? Who knows, but he saw that slight hesitation and anxiety in you that he didn’t recognize. You were scared of that guy.
He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d saw you as he was getting his normal de-stressing from one of the girls in the lower levels, something many women around him volunteered for. She’s come up and offered sex, but he just needed a mouth to fuck.
And then you walked in with that plain outfit and sensible shoes, holding your tablet like you’d been in a rush. And he couldn’t look away. You should have been the one wrapped around his dick, he wanted to hear you gagging on him as he thrusted upwards and grunted. He wanted to cum inside your mouth, not someone random woman’s from marketing. He wanted you.
Unknowingly, his hand had traveled to his boxers and he’d begun rubbing himself to the thought of you.
All he could imagine was you mouthing off to him, and him bending you over the kitchen counter in his apartment, holding one arm behind your back as the other moved to grasp anything within reach as he took you from behind. Miguel rolled his eyes back at the thought of your warm hole welcoming him as he licked two fingers of his free hand and rubbed circles on your clit until you were practically pushing him away from the intensity of your orgasm. But no, he wouldn’t let you get away that easily, he wanted to feel it around him, so he would angle his hips a little more upward, hitting that soft spot that made you arch your back into him more and let out broken moans.
As if on cue, white ropes of his own mess hit his chest and he looked down in surprise, having forgotten what his hand had been doing. He sighed and got up to rinse himself off with a softening cock and an empty mind. The single thing on his brain when he tossed and turned in his sleep that night?
You.
Gwen’s outfit
Your outfit
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3
#miguel o'hara#Miguel o hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel smut#miguel o hara smut#miguel o’hara smut#miguel atsv#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel ohara#miguel o hara#Miguel O'hara x reader
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Ok, never watched much of Angel outside of s5, but I understand that the sort of thesis statement of the show/character is "If nothing we do matters, all that matters is what we do."
Explain to me why then, if this is the crux of Angel, everyone and their mother bitches about Spike getting his soul back? Implying that it's inherently selfish and because it was selfish, it means next to nothing?
This line presents the concept that action bears more weight than reason. It doesn't matter why you do good as long as you are doing it. Because to do good, regardless of why or what you may gain, is good.
You can never be perfect. You can never fix everything. But the things you do are your legacy. "If there's no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world."
I personally believe that Spike got his soul for himself as much as he did it for Buffy because the concept of man vs. monster had been a Massive part of his character arc. Pre-soul he couldn't be either and therefore was nothing in his own eyes (not helped by being repeatedly dehumanized either.)
Spike made a choice that Angelus never would've. He chose the man over the monster.
Regardless, Love is apparently not a good enough reason to get his soul back, according to some. They argue that because he fought for it from a place of romantic Love that it doesn't matter. That the reason behind the action was selfish and therefore meaningless.
But the fucking point of Angel is that action is more important than reason. That the struggle, the fight is more important than the why of it. Essentially, whatever gets you through it is, and should be, enough.
Spike fought his nature because he had something to fight for. Love is not inherently selfless or selfish, it isn’t good or evil. It's a feeling that can be turned into a verb, to action. What you chose to do with Love is what codes its nature.
Spike in the past has done horrible things. Despite the constant "Spike fans kind of forgot about" bullshit, no one argues that he hasn't done terrible things. But this one action/choice was singular. No one had ever done it before. No one ever Wanted to do it before.
Whether you consider it selfish, the Love Spike felt drove him to be better. Because of that Love, he chose to be better. He took action and fought to be better.
If nothing you do matters, all that matters is what you do.
Spike made a choice to be a man and not a monster and fought for it. That Matters.
Regardless of the fact that anyone with a soul can do good or evil, we know Spike does good with one, which reflects back and makes the action of getting it good. It's cyclical goddamnit!
With a soul, he is selfless. He remains by Buffy's side, not out of an inability to let her go, but because she chooses it. He stands his ground and sacrifices himself to save the world despite Buffy telling him she loves him and to leave. He doesn't waver because it's the right, good thing to do.
Whether or not you think he was selfish in the lead up should not matter. He is the only vampire to ever make this choice. Spike got his soul back and did good with it, by the ethos of Angel, that's what matters.
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Hi im emi and i think way too much about sk8 the infinity part 261
COLOUR THEORY TIME i just had like, a brain blast in realisation.
Reki is yellow coded, langa is blue. Usually people would ASSUME reki is the "red" character of the show because of his hair, but i think that just helps to show off his passionate and firey personality. His colour is yellow because he is energetic, friendly and most often optimistic (especially when it comes to helping people learn how to skate or make friends)
Langa is blue coded, usually used for quiet, cold and mysterious characters, or those with lots of sadness (think inside out). BUT because he is pastel blue, his sadness is lighter because of people like reki lifting him out if it. He is still young and has time to grow.
Because they are yellow and blue coded, its different from what is the usual trope of red and blue which are most often rivals or opposites. BUT because theyre yellow and blue, theyre actually perfectly made to compliment each other. I like to see it as reki being the sun to langas moon.
Now. You know who IS red coded? Adam. He is passionate and all about love and anger, the two emotions most connected to red. Because he is red, it links into his whole idea of thinking he "belongs" with langa, but he is already fulfilled by being with reki.
Then we see adams colours slowly change from red to that dark blue we see him wearing in the finale. He comes to realise that he was chasing after langa because he thought they were the same (blue = sad and hurt. Adam being a deeper blue means his emotions and sadness runs deeper aka because he has had YEARS longer to sit with his feelings and trauma) but it takes langa, a fellow blue, being happy and excited and wanting to skate with REKI not him, to show him that he doesnt have to put on this red boisterous persona. If we look at Adam through the years, he's never really had a red-coded personality. It's always an act. How he thinks people wANT him to act.
He's a blue, just like his hair and the suit he wears.
Now. Joe and cherry.
Cherry being pink is so INTERESTING TO ME. Its seen as graceful and youthful, but is also just a toned down version of red. Cherry CAN be graceful and composed, but is also full of so much anger and emotion (especially towards adam) and the fact the two are similar in colour makes me so invested. I also think Cherry has a complex colour pallet- being not only pink, but also wearing deep blues and whites. He is elegant and complex.
THEN JOE. oh joe. My deep green giant. He is down to earth (haha get it) and is always trusting his gut with everything, AND IDK IF YOU HAVE NOTICED THIS BUT HE NEVER GIVES BAD ADVICE!! Green is usually associated with grounded and level-headed characters, but green is also the colour of jealousy. Joe doesn't seem like the jealous type, but he has this strange loneliness to him. All he has is his restaurant and Cherry. He never seems to be able to fully grasp what he wants, so finds his fufillment in other places.
Now onto the fact that pink and green ARE opposites and so are cherry and joe. Where cherry is quiet and reserved, joe is loud and energetic. Their lifestyles and jobs couldn't really be more different. They argue and bicker and always seem to know what perfectly annoys the other most.
BUT!! Pink and green (while being opposites) ARE ALSO COMPLIMENTARY!!!! they work well together beCAUSE theyre so different. And being together just seems to work out somehow.
ANYWAYS. Yeah. Sun and moon coded renga are very special to me :)
#sk8#sk8 the infinity#renga#matchablossom#reki kyan#langa hasegawa#kojiro nanjo#kaoru sakurayashiki#ainosuke shindo#sk8 adam#reki x langa#colour theory#the brainworms really love using my brain as a skatepark :)
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As autistic coded as Illumi is, he is also EXTREMELY Bpd coded. Here's a thread abt why that would be, from a person with bpd. 🧵
Everything about his character screams a person that feels so so much but forcefully tones his feelings down so hard to the point where they seem nonexistent.
On the exterior he seems like he couldn't care less about most things and is a very calm and controlled person. However, his emotions shine the brightest when the topic of interest is a person he cares about.
This is ESPECIALLY shown in the election arc where he reveals much of his emotions to the audience. He gets two whole bloodlust scenes this arc.
One with extreme anger
and one with extreme joy.
When Hisoka provoked him, it took absolutely zero transition for him to immediately spike his bloodlust and aura to GREAT amounts to the point of engulfing the entire MOUNTAIN and reaching Killua from SO far away.
And in the same exact second it happened, it ended just as quickly the moment he noticed Killua running away. That is a CLASSIC negative mood swing example if I've ever seen one. One extreme emotion in one second, gone in the other.
On the other hand, his second bloodlust had a small transition, one that still did not give you the expectation of what truly came after.
He is seen watching Killua on his phone and the moment Nanika healed gon, showing Killua can use her on command with no consequences and also showing her immense power, he was absolutely overjoyed. So much in fact that he exploded in maniac laughter and aura a second after merely giving it a small laugh.
We get a hint at his bloodlust incoming in that moment, but NEVER predict just how MUCH would actually come out. Classic euphoric mood swing number two.
When he encountera Killua with Hisoka in the background at the end, he is pretty much shown going through the five stages of grief in mere minutes the moment his own butlers turn on him and allow Nanika to come out.
denial, anger, depression...
bargaining.......
and finally, acceptance. acceptance that he was going to be traded by killua not only for a friend, but for the rest of the family's lives.
He was so very clearly unhappy about it at the beginning, yet came to acceptance in mere seconds the moment nanika came out. He bargained with himself, Killua shouldnt be able to wish twice, then accepted. even if he could, thats okay. go ahead, kill me!
and then theres also the way he just switches from a very :DDD to >:| mood in like one panel short hello he is so coded
Even more; Usually bpd is either caused through trauma or inherited. and you can definitely argue that illumi went through enough "training" for the former but. is his behavior not. familiar to yall. not at all???? im just saying......... I know someone else in the zoldyck family that has intense mood swings!
if there is one person in the family that shows their unfiltered emotions and switches from being calm to screaming in distress in a single second, its going to be this woman. she gave birth to a son thats a literal copy of her. she ctrl c'd and ctrl v'd.
and i dont exactly know what this next one has to do with the thread but why was bro normal for one second then turned into this i mean im not complaining hes still hot and ill claim him as my bpd son regardless
anyways yes this was the thread have fun with this interpretation slash analysis however u like 👍
#hxh#hunter x hunter#illumi#illumi zoldyck#my post#my analysis#hxh analysis#hunter x hunter analysis#character analysis#bpd
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