#i dont want to go into debt over this man but if i have to then thats a decision ill have to make

[marcillyan]

I have a real question, why are all Gojo figures sh!t? Unless I want to shell out 400+ dollars, I can't find a figure where the face looks even close to him. Need help plz

[north-wilkesboro-moonshine-cave]

another weekend, another job rejection!

[qqueenofhades]

I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

[whimsickool]

RATING THE ENTITIES ON HOW FUN THEY'D BE AT MONOPOLY:

1.  The Flesh - 1/10, wont stop trying to use severed body parts as its player token, houses, and hotels. This would be fine if they werent so fresh and thus staining the board. Brought meatloaf and refused to specify what meat was actually involved. We agreed to order pizza instead.

2. The Desolation - 4/10, is a sore loser and barely wants to play as intended. It mostly keeps trying to flip the damn board and when finally realizing its temper tantrum won't work, they just give all their assets to one player to tilt the game unfavorably like a dick.

3. The Lonely - 5/10, didn't show up on time, didn't play, and mostly sat on the couch for all of game night watching reruns of Golden Girls. This is due to the lonely feeling one gets when realizing you'll never have friends like The Golden Girls. They still get a point for watching though.

4. The Dark - 2/10, at first they just kept flipping off the lights which made it hard to play but when The Desolation suggested candles (the only helpful thing they did all evening) The Dark responded by leaking dark water all over which got the money and chance/community cards wet.

5. The Spiral - 6/10, just enjoyed going around and around and around on the board, sorta played? Mostly lied about how much money they had or owed or what chance/community card they pulled. This was because, "math is for losers." Thus, they did whatever they could to quickly get back to going around and around the board.

6. The Vast - 4/10, played the game, didnt perform any antics, but they kept pointing out their vast amount of wealth  after getting hotels on the first row. Points lost for being a prick.  I will say, from time to time, I would get the over whelming feeling that I was falling. This wasn't a large issue until it happened to The Spiral and suddenly no one can seem to find the bathroom in petty revenge.

7. The Slaughter - 0/10, killed the pizza man. This provided two major headaches: a deadbody to deal with and the pizza being ruined from being dropped. Luckily, The Flesh found use for the dead body. As for dinner, we resorted to just munching on the snacks. Also, its really uncomfortable being threatened whenever they happen to land on your property and owe you rent.

8. The Corruption - 3/10, always brings rotten snacks covered in mold. Uses live bugs for pieces which aside from being gross is just not effective cause they dont stay still. How can I recall that their property has three houses when the peices are crawling on my wall? I also just think it is common courtesy to shower before coming over to game night.

9. The Hunt - 8/10, overly competitive but focused on the game and largely helped wrangle the others. Did keep making references to Wolf of Wall Street though which got old quick. It is worth mentioning that they also talked alot about their various hunting trips and buddies which was fine at first until they started describing a recent hunt that I think may have been my coworker who went missing last week.

10. The Eye - 2/10, cheater. Fucking. Cheater. I didn't even know you could cheat that many ways in Monopoly. Also they brought the lead pipe from a Cluedo board as their game piece and kept giggling when I asked why. Further, it is rude to pressure a trade deal by use of blackmailing. Had a lengthy argument about how technically you dont have to draw from the top of the Chance and Community Chest pile

11. The Buried - 8/10, dirt everywhere and I can't be certain but I think they made my chairs smaller? Maybe it was the table? I felt far too close to everyone. I will say they did mostly play the game but you will feel buried beneath your debt after landing on their property which... now that i think about it.. why was their rent so high? That can't be right..

12. The Web - 7/10, much like insects spiders are NOT a suitable game piece. Didn't technically cheat but managed to get ridiculous trade deals from everyone, especially The Spiral. The Desolation gave all their assests to The Eye to screw over The Web but.. to be honest the game is still going and I.. is it possible to have a stalemate in monopoly?

13. The End - 9/10, played the game but kept saying we should up the stakes by having losers die. I explained that this was the sort of game where if it goes on long enough, death is actually the preferred alternative. They understood and got really quiet for awhile. I think they are to blame for why I'm up past my bedtime. I'm growing afraid they'll all still be playing by next week.

14. The Stranger - 6/10, tried to pretend they were my mom. I know they arent my mom. So they taunted me bu saying they were my dad. This was effective as I don't know my dad. Asshole move. Also, would not stop commenting how dry my skin looked. Other than that, yeah actually played the game!

15. The Extinction - 0/10, when it was finally time for everyone to leave we all learned why Extinction had not shown up. Bad news, the outside world has been nuked. The good news is that I don't think I have to pay rent anymore. Or go to work. Oh god. What do I do about groceries?

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

TGCF couples at the beach

Because i want to go to the beach so bad rn

HuaLian:

Hua Cheng isnt too fond of the sun or the water but gege said he'd like to go so they're going.

Everything is fancy and luxurious, only the best for gege.

A large beach bed with a canopy, drinks and snacks served at all times, the whole nine yards.

He wears those fancy sunscreen lotions with foreign names cause he may be dead but he also burns easily and turns into a big baby about it.

Xie Lian insists they dont need to do all that and can just chill in the sand with a towel, which Hua Cheng finds preposterous.

They have a big ass umbrella over the canopy bed too cause the sun is a deadly laser.

So much affection - cuddling, kissing, being all sweet and lovey, feeding each other watermelon and gathering seashells

Theyre sickeningly sweet

Hua Cheng is able to keep his hands to himself for about 5 seconds max

If there are any noisy kids or families around, Hua Cheng sends Yin Yu to scare them off

(They take Yin Yu with for this express purpise but hey free all inclusive vacation, a win is a win)

Xie Lian never burns ever and refuses to wear sunscreen. Hua Cheng pouts about it because 1) dont want gege to get a sunburn and 2) cant teasingly rub lotion over him smh

Hua Cheng builds one of those fancy sand statues of Xie Lian and he thinks its the most romantic thing ever

It is

So many kisses in the water and swimming together all lovey

Hua Cheng is never seen not drinking a margarita

"You do not need to keep your swim trunks that low, San Lang." "Gege, tan lines are terrible."

BeefLeaf

SQX cant get He Xuan out of the water once they arrive to the beach. Nope. That is his habitat now. He belongs to the fishes.

SQX rents out beach chairs by the bar because how can one tan without a drink in hand?

Skimpy swimsuits because SQX also abides by the tan lines are the devil mentality

Manages to get He Xuan out of the water with the promise of ice cream

Talking shit about everyone around while eating ice cream and drinking martinis

So many seashells. He Xuan gives them to SQX as an offering aw

"XuanXuan you cant drown people that say indecent things about me!" "Who says" "the law??"

He Xuan brings SQX little fish he catches if they look colorful or pretty

"XuanXuan, put some tanning oil on my back!" And He Xuan spends like 10 mins trying to find the correct bottle because SQX brought like 50 and the tanning oil SQX wants looks like literally every other bottle there

So many selfies

He Xuan digs tunnels in the sand whenever he isnt in the water. SQX has to talk him into not using the Earth Master shovel

Theyre checking out hot people together

He Xuan puts on sunglasses to pretend he isnt staring at SQX

"XuanXuan you cant throw jellyfish at children!!"

SQX flirts their way into free drinks and He Xuan broods about it but also he is deeply in debt so he can't turn down free shit lmao

FengQing

Arguing, so much arguing, but hey thats their love language

"Thats a shit spot for a towel" "okay find a better one then" "here!" "Thats like a foot away whats the difference??"

Feng Xin refuses to put on sunscreen cause he thinks its not manly

"You cant beat the fucking sun, Feng Xin!"

Mu Qing refuses to get his hair wet. Feng Xin makes it a point to dunk him in the water at least once

Feng Xin falls asleep in the sun like an old man and Mu Qing draws dicks on him with sunscreen lmfao

They argue about who goes to get drinks and snacks and just end up going together

Feng Xin insists to exclusively drink beer until he tries one of Mu Qing's deadly cocktail combinations and hes hooked. He insists they add a little umbrella to his drink now so he and Mu Qing match

Sand castles competition turned chasing into the waves turned underwater kisses

Mu Qing judges everyone and Feng Xin cant help adding in to the commentary because its surprisingly entertaining

Beach sports! Theyre so competitive too so its extra fun and they make bets over everything

[zooone]

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

hi! message from about a year later (since i still get notes from this) but i do not support wilbur soot at all, and do not write for him anymore. so part two of this fic is discontinued. :( thank u for all the luv from this fic

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!

taglist (dm or send an ask to be added!) — @sixofshadowandbone @theoneandonlyyeti @harbingerofheartbreak @starsyoubreaklikesugardust @mcr-pr-fob @sapphic-soot @flynn-thebin @puppyburbites @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @merakiaes @aimi-chann @axthrial @lololol00 @deadphantomsociety @hometown-smile @qweengigi @kisstheskin

in case you did not read the beginning (its a long wall of text i understand 🙂‍↕️), i do not write for wilbur soot anymore and do not condone or support any of his actions. therefore, part two will not be coming :(

[withonly-sweetheart]

all that money's tempting... gosh. re4 og leon tries to distract you from the one thing you think could solve all your problems. nsfw mentions (duh) below <3

idk if this is like noncon or wtv it doesnt feel like it to me but theres a part where theres a misunderstanding or shit idfk i dont care im just tired and want this OUT of my head please.

<><><><>

it's asking you to grab it, you swear. if money had a voice it would be high-pitched and whiney, whispering foolish promises into your ear. beside you, leon nods at the watch commander as he exits the room, reasons as to why being unknown to you.

your focus is on the money, the wads of cash stacked neatly on the simple brown table. you imagine it wavering under the weight, unworthy of carrying what could quite easily, you argue, fix all life's problems.

"what would you do with a million dollars...?" you ask, at first absentmindedly but then straightening up as the other two in the room toss their stoic gazes to you immediately.

"we never go there, rookie," leon hisses. "too many officers lost that battle."

"but theoretically-"

"no 'theoretically'," the other officer, one of leon's colleagues, spits. "you know better than that."

"she was just-" your training officer attempts to defend.

"you siding with her, kennedy?" the guy raises an eyebrow. "didn't think you were up for that life."

"the life of crime you came from?" leon seethes in reply. "i seem to recall your multiple violations and all the favors you called in." he frowns. "from me."

that shuts the asshole up pretty quickly, and you have to smother a smile as you gaze up, admiration twinkling in your eyes as you stare at his side profile. handsome and sharp. lucky you.

you suppose the only downside to the whole arrangement is the way he switches up, two different people forced to occupy the same body; and you'd rather have the calm one over the shouty one.

the officers' radios go off, the watch commander's voice coming through. he calls in an attempted break in somewhere near our units, and tells someone to respond.

you look between both of them, waiting for someone to make a move. leon crosses his arms and huffs, leaning back against the supporting column. the other officer rolls his eyes and grumbles something under his breath as he approaches the door.

"what was that?" leon calls out, sarcastically, if anything.

the only response he gets is the loud slam of the door, frightening some poor bird perched on the birdhouse stuck to the window. it doesn't flutter back, no matter how hard you stare.

"well?" you divert your gaze back to the money, at first, then to the man standing next to you.

"hm?" you ask, slightly in a daze.

"you asked what i would do with that money, but what would you?" leon scoffs. "after all, it's not like you to ask without a motive."

"does everything require a motive, officer kennedy?" you ask, teasingly, tantalizing his mind. he narrows his eyes.

"i asked a question, rookie."

a dreamy sigh falls past your lips. not the reply he was expecting. "i would pay off all that student debt, and buy myself a nice house. ooh, and a fancy sports car!"

leon snorts to this, and you turn to him with accusing eyes. "what?"

"i'm just saying, you've got a lot to live through if that's all you're hoping for."

"what part of paying off debt is useless?" you demand.

"i never said anything was useless." he shrugs.

you grit your teeth and turn away from him, but your eyes are once again drawn back to the money. you take a step closer, fingers itching to just pocket a few rolls, wondering if anyone will notice.

leon's arm acts as a bar across your waist, covered in black tactical gear, and his rifle slips from his other hand. the sound snaps you out of your trance, and you turn to glare at him.

"i wasn't going to take anything," you protest.

the corner of leon's mouth turns up. "oh, really? try fooling me twice, sweetheart. i know the look of a hungry woman when i see one."

"i'm not... hungry?" you tilt your head, confused by the metaphor.

"never mind. i think i'd retire early, if i had all that just saved in the bank. why spend my years wasting away, like i did in my youth?" he chuckles fondly, as if those years were millennia ago.

"you're barely forty," you deadpan. "you're not that old."

"compared to you?" leon's arm hasn't left its position, if anything pressing harder down onto your waist, forcing you back. there's a conflicted storm swirling in his eyes, unchecked by you. "i think i am."

"right... what are you doing?" you whisper.

"i see those eyes," he mumbles. "you can't stop thinking about it, can you?"

"the money? no, leon, gosh, i swear i wouldn't-"

"wouldn't you?" his voice is his own harsh whisper in your ear, backed against the table, the empty one that has no expectations except dreading what comes next, because what happens?

in the carefully planned sequence of your life, all the events that you'd prepared for, this is NOT one of them. never was supposed to be. and so because you've never studied anything like this, you freeze up.

leon feels you tense underneath him. "what's... wrong?"

"can you... uhm... get off me?" you say, voice squeaky. "please?"

"oh." leon blinks down at you, and the second time something seems to register because he clambers off, dusting his pants as a filler motion, trying to make the atmosphere casual. "s-sorry."

"n-no, you're fine," you say, reassuringly, but your voice is wavering. not out of fear, out of adrenaline. your body was preparing, it seems. it wants this. you want this, and you might've just ruined it.

you also never imagined anything happening here, in this drug dealer's home, where anyone could burst through the door at any given moment, but he's gotten enough blood rushing to your head that you can't stop the force of events that come tumbling next.

there's a whole list of words you have to describe him now, and they all fall past your lips as his fingers creep further down, duty long forgotten. you suppose that's the whole reason he's doing this.

for you, all for you, to distract you from ruining your life thinking you're going to fix it, when you'll only make things worse. besides, the desire for him is stronger than the desire for a nice life.

a life with him would be nice, you think, absently.

"oh, would it now?" he muses against your neck, damn fingers never moving any lower than they are, pressed taut from the force of your pants, against the lower skin of your stomach. "you wanna be mine forever?"

god, yes, you think, and this time you make sure it's just a thought. the last thing you need is for his inflated ego to get ahead of him.

"he was being so mean to you, baby," he whispers, and it takes you a moment to clear the cloudy thoughts and realize he's talking about the other officer. "never liked him anyway."

you nod your head for lack of a better response, immediately leaning back as soon as leon's other palm flattens against your inner thigh, sparking up your spine.

"you like that?" he says, low and breathy, just for you to hear. "what if someone was to come in, hm? what then? they see you all spread out like this, almost about to cum on my fingers?"

"yeah," you whine, and for the first time in a long time, you're really not ashamed of the sounds he elicits from you. usually sounds of dissent, now pleas for more. "need it, please."

you wait for his acceptance, for him to push you over the edge, just like he does every day out on patrol, except this time you know you'll like it. but it never comes, and you crack open an eye, panting.

leon blinks, and you swear that if he was a dog his ears would be twitching, because within a second he yanks his hand away, covering your arousal with his other hand, and you're confused for a moment.

you sit on the table as he stands to attention, facing the door. you don't realize why until the entire squad storms through, rifles aimed at the ready.

the watch commander raises a fist and everyone lowers their guns. "the neighbors reported loud noises and disturbing sounds. did you happen to hear anything?"

"... no sir." leon says, shaking his head in such an affirmative way that you can't help but copy his actions, bobbing your head up and down with a bright smile.

"we didn't hear anything," you add. "must've been a raccoon or something."

sergeant's eyes flick between you two, narrowing in suspicion. "of course. a raccoon."

"what else could it be?" leon says with a shrug.

"i have my suspicions." with that, he turns on his heel. and you think you're in the clear, about to let out a sigh of relief, when he jerks back.

"is something the matter, sergeant?" you ask sweetly. but his eyes aren't on you, thankfully. your heart plummets when you track his gaze to his true target.

"officer kennedy." there's an undeniable hint of irritation that is quickly overshadowed by the authority in his stance as he slowly turns around, eyes flitting to his waist.

"yes, sir?" leon's damn good at acting, but you're sure no musical will get him out of this one.

"what's in your hands?"

series masterlist

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi, I love the way you write and wanted to know if you could write something.

The situation would be that Y/N is from the mafia and Tommy and Y/N hate each other. And in a situation (the one you want) they have to work together to get out alive and then in the end something hot happens .... I would really like to read something so peri I have not found something similar on the platform

I would really appreciate it very much and read it a lot... I love your content

Hey Love,

I really tried to make a plot - I think I sucked at it but i still hope you enjoy it! As always I'm very sorry this took so long. I will try to look over this again in the morning as i'm not 100% confident in my sleep deprived editing skills.

Warnings: Peaky themes, murder, smut, sex, enemies to lovers,

Thomas was becoming more and more tired of London. At first he found it calming, the lights and constant flow of chaos was enough to keep his mind off of Grace.

He sat on the edge of his bed, feeling is age and then some. The damp cold air caused his joints to hurt, and his muscles protested another day. He ran his hands over his face and tried to take a deep breath. He had his family, responsibilities, he couldn't give up now. 

The phone rang and he moved slowly across the room to pick up the receiver.

“Shelby” He said in a low voice. 

“You just waking up now?” A loud voice boomed from the other end. “These Peaky fuckers - I swear-” The man started to grumble and Thomas started to wonder if his responsibilities were really worth all of this. 

“What do you want, Alfie?” He kept his voice calm and smooth, not because he felt that way, but because it annoyed the other man. 

“No way to talk to a friend, innit?” Something exploded near him and Tommy pulled the phone away from his ear. “Fuck, well don’t mind that. Come down as fast as you can. Pack a trunk with something nice to wear.” 

“Why?” Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Need you to bring me back something from Frace.” 

“No.” Tommy said flatly. There would never be a good enough reason for him to go anywhere near that place. 

“Look, Beaumont’s are closing in on territory. He’s had some choice words about your family, and son. He wants you to meet him and while your there I want you to pop by a friends place and pick up a package for me. Eh? Don't trust it in the post.” 

“Meeting him in France to negotiate territory in London is stupid.” Why was everything always stupid and unreachable. His temper was starting to boil over and he lit a cigarette knowing it would do nothing to calm his nerves. 

“I don't want you to negotiate with him - if you understand what I’m saying.” Alfie said flatly. 

“And if I dont?” Tommy was gripping the edge of the table hoping to steady himself. 

“Break our alliance and join up with the Ricci and hope she can get the job done.” 

Thomas didn't speak for a moment. He was stuck, give up on months of work in London and hand it all over to the heir of the Ricci family - or go into the depths of hell. 

“Though we had an agreement.” Thomas was clenching his jaw tightly.

“That changed when you pissed off the Irish and the Chinese.” 

“Fuck” He swore under his breath. “Fine.” He hung up the phone to escape Alfie’s content laugh. 

Two train rides. One murder. One package. Then his debt to Alfie was paid and his territory in London was settled. 

He survived France once and he could do it again. 

______________________________________________

Out of all the preparations he made this was his least favorite task. Charlie clung to him and Thomas fought with himself. Part of him wanted more than anything to stay there, part of him needed to stay composed in front of Charlie to avoid scaring him. 

The only consistent part of him was the one that wanted to break down and watch everything burn. He kissed the top of Charlie’s head before gently putting him back on his feet. For a split second he swore there was a look of understanding in Polly’s eyes. 

Tommy boarded the train thinking of John and Arthur’s protests to letting him go alone. The invitation was for one, no need to make them relive the past when he could shoulder it alone. 

Things seemed normal enough. He was happy to be left alone to rot in his compartment. The motion of the train made him want to throw up, but the silence was nice. 

Tap Tap 

There was a soft knock at the door and Thomas hoped that they would asume he was a sleep and leave him be. 

Tap Tap 

As usual he would know no such peace. He opened the sliding door and his stomach gave a hateful lurch. 

You were there looking up at him with your big eyes. 

“Good evening Mr. Shelby.” He hated the way you said his name.

“Evening.” He said coldly. 

“Looks like we were both summoned to this event.” To anyone else this would look like small talk, to him he could see the way your eyes absorbed his every move. 

“Looks like it.” He said in the same unimpressed tone. He wondered why you wanted to move in on what he and Alfie had. He’d shut down multiple Italian families over his time in London. No matter how bloody it got you wouldnt relent. 

“I’ll be in the next compartment in you want some company.” You winked at him and he watched you move down the corridor and disappear into your compartment. 

He shut his door and fixed the curtains back into place. He was going to try and stay sober till he got to his hotel, but seeing your face tore up all his self control. Stupid woman. 

He sipped his whiskey and accepted that he would not sleep until he was home. He could feel the chaotic electricity pulsing inside him, nowhere to go, nothing to fight, stuck in this stupid moving box. 

The night swallowed up the view replacing the countryside with his sickly reflection. He shut the curtains to avoid the corpse glaring back at him. Anxiety rattled through him at the lack of chaos. Normally Polly was chasing charlie around to get him in the bath. John was yelling at him about something going wrong, the words from his mouth coming from Esme’s mind. Arthur was already sick from drinking trying to hide the kindness in his eyes. Chaos. 

His eyes closed. Grace’s face swam into view she was trying to tell him something before she started to scream. His body tensed up and his eyes opened to the yellowing light of the compartment. A loud bang caused him to jump up. He moved into the corridor his feet taking him to your room. 

He flug the door open and without surprise found a large mans body on the floor of your compartment. He shut the door and empathized with your far away gaze. He knew that there was a high chance your hands were dirtier than his and despite his loathing, he felt bad for you. 

“There are no other people on this train.” Your voice was distant and your glassy eyes snapped to his face. 

“Fucking Alfie.” He said under his breath, this was a set up. 

“Won't be him. He told us not to bring anyone with us. If he takes us out he knows my brother will take up my place, as would yours.” 

“The train is supposed to make a stop, if it doesn't we jump when it slows down through the mountains.” He whispered looking around the compartment as if he could tell if it was bugged.

“Then what?” You whispered. 

“We make our way home.” He looked into your eyes and noticed the slightest trace of fear. 

“So you and I then?” You cocked your head to the side staring at him suspiciously. He wondered how you managed to stay alive this long when every thought you had was sprawled across your face. 

He didn't want to respond so he held his hand out to you and your slender hand fit inside his. He shook on it and wondered how badly you would make him regret this in the future. But that was future Tommy's problem. 

You both tore through the train finding nothing suspicious accept for the lack of people. Sitting back in his compartment she turned the radio on and pulled a notebook out of her handbag. 

I think we should stay on till Paris  

He gave you a curt nod of agreement. Then watched you write out your next message. 

Then we kill him 

He nodded again before gesturing to the pen. You handed it over to him and in his less elegant writing he wrote out a message. 

Call for backup once we stop 

There was a strange bit of sparkle in your eye when you looked up at him. You smiled and took the pen back, your warm fingers brushing against his cold hand. 

Not enough time. + I like the idea of it being the two of us

He gave a sarcastic smile and looked at the wall. He looked back at you still staring at him, he wanted to know what your game was. There was no need to flirt with him, and yet you always took the time for an extra bit of banter. It had even cost you a couple of times, and yet you always seemed to enjoy bothering him, even when you lost. 

He finally gave you a slow nod, not breaking eye contact. He watched your pupils flutter open, the pulse in your neck speed up. He wanted this to aggravate him like everything else you did. Instead his blood seemed warmer under his translucent skin. 

Frustrated, he waited for you to break eye contact first. You looked down at your watch, then scribbled down another note. 

One hour 

It was an hour of silence and he enjoyed your presence in the seat next to him. He focused on your breathing and let time do it’s thing. 

Once there everything unraveled very quickly. Antoine Beaumont did not bug the train, nor had he sent more than three men to collect their bodies. They were easy enough to handle.

They showed up at his office. The confusion on his secretaries face was satisfying and Tommy almost jumped as you shot her. His eyes slowly looked to you, your face was dark and set in emotionless mask. 

Tommy didn't think the woman needed to die but without time, he moved into the back room and shot the man. He didn't want to hear the saga, the master plan, or what he wanted so badly in London. 

He was old and tired. He wanted to go home. As he walked out of the building he had already washed his hands of the situation. He would ring Alfie, have him send his men out to deal with the collateral and get his stupid package. 

As he walked down the stairs he heard a pair of heels clattering behind him. 

“When is the next train.” You came close enough to his side that you didn't have to raise your voice above a whisper. He looked down at you hiding his surprise. When he shook on it he figured they meant they were agreeing to murdering that bastard. Their alliance was over, and yet you were looking to him.

“Half hour.” He said raising his hand to flag a cab. He opened the door and watched you elegantly slide across the bench seat. He knew that in this moment he was at a crossroads. He had lots of ways of getting home from France. He could close this door and walk away, see you again at the next conflict. Or he could embrace this adventure knowing full well it would probably hurt him just as bad as Grace. Your gloved hand reached out of the cab to grab his, settling his silent debate. 

He watched as you navigated this situation. He didn't want to give away his position, he wanted you to make a fool of yourself for him. 

You didn't knock on his compartment, you slid the door open and he watched as your eyes analyzed him. He knew from the brightness of your eyes and the glint of pink on your cheeks that you would be the next person to take a piece of his soul. He thought about stopping it. But that sweet comfort only offered by chaos was addictive. 

He held out his hand and you smiled at him. Your hand slipped into his once more and he gilded you up onto his lap. Your red lips were curved into a grin, but your deep eyes were holding back. You opened your mouth, either about to tell him what to do, or to ask about what this was. Tommy didn't feel like embarking on either topic, with one hand on your ass he pulled you even closer. His other hand grabbed the back of your neck. Your lips tasted like red wine and drank in the ecstasy that flowed from them. 

You tasted like life. 

You kissed him back hungrily. You fought him for dominance till he got you desperate enough to submit to him. Your body giving in with a sigh as he gripped one of your breasts. He got your skirt out of the way with little effort and watched as your hands undid his trousers. He moaned as your hands slid along his shaft, your body was so warm. The softness of it was addictive. The weight of you on his lap kept him grounded, he felt held down to the earth. You lined yourself up with the head of his cock. He wasn't ready to let you win. 

His fingers brushed past your naval, trailing down to embrace the warmth of your slick folds. You bucked against his hands and he enjoyed the way your back arched for him. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to see you fall apart. He wanted to give you something so good, you would be ruined. 

He told himself it was revenge. He would leave you here on this bench and walk off this train with a clear mind and restored purpose to drive you out of London. 

When you pressed your forehead against his and let out the softest moan he had ever heard he felt his heart start to thaw. You didn't beg him. You sat on his lap in agony as he pressed into you, savouring the way your body tightened around his fingertips. 

He wished you wouldn't have surrendered to him. That you would have kept your guard up. Instead you fell apart for him so beautifully.

He finally couldn't hold back any longer and pushed up into you. The heaviness of the emotion in your cry caused all common sense to leave him. He held your hips tightly and enjoyed the way you bounced on his lap. You swallowed up every bit of pleasure his body could offer. Eventually your release took him under and he watched, he felt you come apart. 

You fell against him, resting your head against his shoulder while you caught your breath. He caved and held you against his chest. He had blown his cover. He waited for you to take the upper hand, take the victory and walk out of the compartment. 

Instead you stayed there for a long moment. 

“Do you like fettuccine?” You whispered and he considered it for a moment. 

“Yes.” He wasn't sure he had ever had fettuccine, but he liked the way it sounded as it rolled off your tongue. 

“Come home with me and I’ll cook for you.” 

He wanted to laugh, for the first time in so long. 

“Trying to tie me down?” He said with a faint smile. 

“Is it working.” Your eyes were wide and your smile was genuine. He laughed and you kissed his cheek before getting your self straightened out. 

He listened to you ramble quietly, enjoying your accent. You spoke to him like he was a friend, not like he was supposed to do something or fix something. 

__________________________________________

You have him over for dinner and he actually eats. He enjoys it and you take a lot of pride. 

Things are very slow as both of you are secretly waiting for the other to screw the other over, this spans on for months. 

After a few weeks without hearing from him you show up at his house with a bunch of food. He opens the door looking beat up with a little boy standing on the stairs behind him. 

You start cleaning his cuts shouting at him for not asking you for help. Charlie watches you with your makeup and hair, big fur coat, scolding his father and is very curious about you. 

In the kitchen you put the food on the table and find the first aid kit and a fork. You give the fork to Charlie and gesture to the tupperware full of pasta. He snacks while you clean Tommy’s wounds. 

Charlie rests his head on the table after eating his body weight in pasta. “I feel so sleepy” He mumbled and you laughed. “That’s the Italian opium hitting.” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “ Don’t worry about your dad. I’ll carry you up to bed later.” He gave you a nod before passing out. 

“Is there actually opium in that.”  Tommy whispered a sense of genuine anxiety in his tone- you laughed “Just the carbs.” 

You called your men in to handle the situation and talked Tommy down everytime he tried to take control of the situation. 

“Stop it. I’m handling it.” You snapped at him and you realised that he was never not incharge. “Trust me.” You watched the internal battle in his big blue eyes. Knowing he wouldn't rest, you handed him the phone. His brow furrowed slightly and you told him what to say. He gave the order and you sat on his lap watching the tension leave his body 

“You ever going to trust me?” You knew it wasn't fair to ask him this after all the blood he lost. 

“I’m trying.” He looked at you through hooded eyes. 

“Dont make me wait” You said sternly before picking up Charlie. You felt your heart break a little when his fist clung to the collar of your shirt once you placed him in bed. You tucked him in under Tommy’s watchful eye. Then followed him through to his bedroom.

[idyllic-affections]

what if kaveh adopted a child?

summary. kaveh adopts a random child.

trigger & content warnings. implied past trauma.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort, found family. kaveh & child!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. hehe kaveh <3 this was written before the fontaine release, so i dont know how villainous focalors may or may not be but i implied her to be a lil bit villain-like. anyway i probably wont expand upon this one, this brainrot is just a silly little thought i had

kaveh is a man with a heart much too big for his chest.

alhaitham can't really say he's surprised when kaveh tries to sneak in an orphaned, seemingly nonverbal child barely any older than six or seven. they're clinging to the blonde like a lifeline, face buried in his neck and little hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. given how frail they look...

"quit staring. they came from fontaine," kaveh scoffed, one of his hands absently toying with the tips of their knotted hair, "if you must know."

there's a little bit of surprise on alhaitham's face at that—a child that small ran all the way from fontaine to sumeru city? did they communicate that to kaveh, or did he just assume based on their attire?—but it washes away quickly as he turns back to his book. kaveh almost dares to think he'll get off easily at his roommate's brief silence. he should've known better. just as he starts to walk away... "you can't keep them."

what alhaitham doesn't know is that they avoided so, so many others in sumeru city but approached kaveh because they felt safer approaching him rather than anyone else.

it annoys him beyond belief that the scribe fails to understand how intuitive children are (he's far too petty to admit that maybe it's because alhaitham doesn't know what happened, that he wasn't there to witness such a sweet little one approaching him while flinching away from others). they approached kaveh because, in their mind, he felt safer than other people.

there's no way in hell he's abandoning them.

"it's not your choice to make."

"it's my house."

"what do you suggest i do, then?!" he snaps, quickly regaining his composure when the little one in his arms trembles. a sense of guilt weighs on his chest; the poor thing must be exhausted, hungry, and possibly even sick or injured. they don't need any more stress. as infuriating as alhaitham can be... the blonde is more concerned with the child. kaveh's voice lowers significantly as he continues, "i'm not going to just leave them on the streets in a foreign nation."

"oh, i don't know," alhaitham muses, "maybe head to fontaine and find their parents?"

"gone."

both of the roommates fall silent at the little, meek voice. they peek upwards at kaveh.

a sense of calmness washes over them at the gentle, sympathetic expression on his face. he... looks like he could cry for them, actually. they don't have the capacity to completely understand the extent of the architect's empathy quite yet, and so, instead of trying to process why he looks so utterly bothered, they settle on laying their head back on his shoulder. he makes a very nice pillow.

"they're, um, gone," they repeat again, a little louder so the objectively scarier man could hear them with clarity. despite their sleepiness, they do their best to speak clearly and steadily. "l— lady focalors took them."

"...take them to gandharva ville."

kaveh doesn't reply to that, merely walking past his roommate and heading towards the bathroom to run a warm bath for them.

he knows he should. he's busy and won't be able to provide such a fragile thing with the care and attention they need to grow properly, not to mention his looming debt. he also knows that tighnari and collei and all the other forest rangers would take very good care of them until he rids himself of debt or until they're old enough to care for themselves. he knows, but... he just doesn't want to get rid of them. it pains kaveh to even think about doing something like that.

...

archons... he sincerely hopes that he can get rid of his debt and do it fast.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[originalcharactersexyman]

Hiya! Howdy! Id love to toss my goofy silly mailman tf2 oc in the ring if there were slots left! His names Brodie :> Heres his toyhouse

Meet YOUR 10th Class Merc. The Courier. His name is Brodie 

From New York! Go Yankees!

Around 32-34

6"1

Lets take alook into the past: For a lot of his life he has committed ,,, so much fraud. So much. All of it. Mail fraud tax fraud voter fraud healthcare fraud identity fraud. Even credit card fraud when credit cards came out in 1966.  Frauding it up ever since he was a kid delivering newspapers and snooping in neighbor's mail. 

Eventually his fraudulent lifestyle catches up to him and lands him in prison when he suddenly became the inheritor of a minuscule fraction of Australium. And a certain group of individuals did not take too kindly to some rando getting his hands on the  insanely precious resource.  In order for the Australium to be ‘misplaced’, Brodie had to die. And die he did. Not long after being incarcerated, he was hanged for his many, many crimes. A bit of overkill, really, but it was apparently the only way. Plus a lot of the guards and inmates kept finding themselves in varying degrees of debt so two birds one stone. Miss Pauling herself attends the hanging to make sure Brodie does die and sure enough he is pronounced dead. As dead as it gets. 

Well. Mostly.

As his soul prepares for judgment in hell,  Brodie decides “I am absolutely not ready to be dead yet.” Soo he convinces Satan “hey you guys got the wrong guy. I’m blah blah blah, here’s my ID and credentials n whatnot. Here’s who you’re actually looking for” (a lie obviously) but Satan’s like “Oh shit. Um wow- this, like, never happens. Lemme…fix that real quick.” (This is intentionally left vague and about how much hell tell ya about it with changing details each time)

Back in his body, Brodie sits up, completely nakey, save for the body blanket, and startles Miss Pauling who instinctively has a gun to his face. Quickly thinking, Brodie strikes a deal; “Hey hey! Don't Shoot. Uh, listen.  Technically, I was pronounced dead.  Obviously you can keep whatever I was supposed to inherit, I won't even give it another thought but just lemme go - please?”  Sure enough, Miss P agrees, except now Brodie has to…start over again.  Which isn’t a big *deal*, but it’ll take him a minute to get back on his feet since his last identity is supposed to be cold turkey. 

Though, this gives Miss P an idea.  “Hey, do you want a job?”

So he’s back, babyyy. Brodie is a new man (who legally doesn't exist) and is recruited by Mann Co to be the teams smuggler mailman and a merc when violence is needed!!  Someones gotta deliver the mercs all their niche needs and all that, ya know? Someone who ain't afraid to get their hands dirty or have fingerprints or the same teeth they did before or leave any paper trail!  Someone who isn't afraid to break into the next city over's local zoo and get some baboon uteri and hearts for medic, or do a 24 hr trip to Australia for Saxton hale pain tonic for sniper (so they avoid import fees), wine for spy, copious amounts of Tom Jones merch for scout, crates upon very weighty crates of ammo for Heavy, etc etc. Even just snacks from each mercs country (that Courier def sneaks bites from but dont tell anyone shhhh). Or just the pizza the mercs ordered in town.

Need something delivered? Brodie is your Courier! (He has to as his contract states, lest he break it and is 'super killed'.  No its not explained what that means but Brodie don't intend to find out.)

--

He's a bit of a goofy guy.  Quick witted when it comes to fraud but would ask Alexa what 4 x 12 is. His undying passion is committing petty crimes and scams and changing people's legal last names to something like "Scrotum". He's very *very* nosy and will read the merc's mail before he even gets it to them. He's got gossip to share. He loves snacks and has an awful diet consisting of gas station foods. Caffeinated soda and donuts are go-to's, especially on the road. His fav mode of transportation is on his motorcycle.

WOOF thats a long one lol Thank you sm for ur consideration !

WELCOME ABOARD!

Seats Taken: 22/24 (TWO LEFT)

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

Namari is the first of laios old party that gets reintroduced into the story before dungeon meshi really shows it's hand about the bigger themes it wants to tackle. Theres a lot of sneaky setup during her two chapters. Lets talk about her!

Dungeon meshi starts out as kind of a straight forward fun dungeon adventure amoungst adventurers and friends. Namari notably, throws a wrench in this perception while maintaining that lighthearted tone--notably, through introducing the fact Laios is a weak leader. Namari was in the party since the start. She was clearly in a bad situation at the time where adventuring was her only option bc she didnt have enough money to even get off the island. Despite that, she stayed in the party despite the fact she needs money bc she liked the comraderie. Sad that she felt like she had to choose between getting out of debt or having ppl she could be honest to.

All three party members who left did not have their needs properly met. Falin let her life be dictated by laios and marcille and was too passive to try to make choices for herself. She ends up getting eaten trying to save them + then puppetted around by thistle as a result of marcilles attempt (sucess) at reviving her (+ ends up starving the whole time) . I think shuro got kidnapped into laios party and then steamrolled over bc hes just so bad at saying no + also seemed to have never chosen anything for himself in his lyfe.

Theres a clear parallel between laios lack of attention towards these threes needs and his lack of attention that he was hungry at the fight.

Laios treated his like a group of friends going out adventuring without any regard to the needs of the group. Yeah, you could say they couldve told him, but as a leader its kinda ur job to actively keep tabs on this. And Namari really exemplifies this bc she really is in dire straits, her joining the party was out of desparation, and her need for money was getting ignored for years. That she even brought this up to the siblings and they still went on a dangerous expedition and didn't take missions aimed at making money is kinda like.. wow......

It takes a near death experience for her to realize she has really got to go actually achieve her goals —but crucially I feel if laios took more jobs to make money, she wouldnt have left at that crucial moment. I think theres an argument to be made that shuro probs wouldnt have left if namari didnt bc hes a passivity king and may have been more willing to get his retainers to work w laios party if they didnt both mutually agree laios wasnt cut out to lead the party to try to rescue falin. Which I dont think is an unfair assessment of his skills at the time.

Like he is well intentioned and doesnt mean anything bad by it but theres a limit to the amount of carelessness you can have as a leader. Later on, shuros going to have similar complaints and hes going to be much less nice abt it.

Anyways, i think its interesting the party namari aligns herself w afterwards is the right hand man of the lord of the island, awfully close to the occupation her father held before he disapeared after getting caught for money laundering. In her intro, she keeps her guard up from mr tansu and the party bc shes jaded about either having to accept a job for money or to be friends w her new party. I think this may be partially bc she let herself get dragged around for too long in laios party bc she had a soft spot for em. But after sharing a meal , having laios affirm his trust in her, and actively communicating w mr tansu shes able to get both the money she needs to climb outta debt and a good working relationship w the tansus and the twins by clarifying specifically how she feels. I think tansus a bit suspicious bc he thinks shes just in for the money and disregards her feelings as a result. I think theres a bit of an undertone that the way he treats her like a human shield reminds her of how she was cleaning up her fathers messes all the time as a kid.

Crucially, I think this is the turning point for how she acts bc she has so much love to give to the world! She needed to have this basic need taken care of before she oculd help other people. She goes down to the morgue to check for falin. She agrees to help kabru after hearing his motives w utaya even tho theres nothing in it for her. Shes the one who reaches her hand up to support him when he almost gets trampled by the adventurers in the dungeon.

I think seeing ppl help him without asking anything in return helped kabru be more open towards other, which leads to him throwing his lot w laios despite all his doubts.

Doesnt rat out laios party under the threat of interregation tho also it seemed shuro was just 🤐 abt it. She tells tansu shes headed down w shuros retainers to rescue him when he gets kicked like a football into the dungeon - also a nice bit of character development that she clearly wants to help laios w the water spirit and only goes w tansus permission, but here she takes the initiative and tells him she'll report if she sees anything funny. Crucially she throws her lot against the elves, who are the closest to power at great risk to herself. (tho lowkey she may lose her livelihood if the elves take over so there may be a bit of self interest there + her patron is in charge of some of it).

constantly asking shuro for his input bc she knows hes shy

able to support marcille when shes in tears after losing her dream falin and laios despite feeling awkward towards her (kinda interesting parallel w how shuro feels hes bad w laios

For the two of em, think laios failed them as their leader, so they leave. And afterwards, their relationship improves bc they can truely dedicate themselves to what they want from him as their friends--running a legendary sabatoge against the elf cops so he doesnt go to jail!!!

I think theres something to the fact shes the one shown being eaten by the lion when time stops. Then also the one in the mana realm happy that she’d never have to struggle or hunger again. Her whole life seemed to be cleaning up her fathers messes, getting cast out for her fathers messes, just a constant struggle w the dwarves not seeing her as someone worth being in their community and drifting around without a place to belong. Even tho she found ppl now it doesnt change what happened w her. It's sad. But she also accepts she has to go back and face the future.

her love for music and dance is interesting- how like something communal that draws others in spontaneously is something she feels close to

also interesting is her interactions w other races--seems like she primarily interacted w dwarves for the first few years of her life, w just tenous connections to people of other races and it was getting so suddenly ejected that got her there. No coincidence that shes the one who goes in between the orcs and elves towards the finale to go hey we are on the same side. Also not a coincidence she gets along so well w the twins who were abandoned by their families and taken in by gnomes but also always feeling a little out of place in that community.

Tansu clearly stand in for her dad : ( her mom walked out when she was young : ( honestly im really happy she gets a family of a sort w them.

Im also glad she still has her own interest in weaponry and design even tho its tainted w her fathers actions

Her friendship w shuro is so fun. You wouldn't expect them to get along so well bc they seem so different on the surface and namaris blunt in a way that ud think be offputting to shuro and he kinda indirect in a way that would piss her off but theyre very often on the same wavelength.

da warriors bond...no words are needed i think they might be using telepathy. once u get below the surface they have a lot in common.

family issues so severe it managed to creep onto a thrid person thats not their parent

pretty pragmatic ppl at their core (eg. shuros less mad about ancient magic being wrong and more that theyre gonna go to jail for 10000 years before chimera falin apears, his gripe about eating monsters seems more being about youll get food poisening that way etc. namari placing herself close to power in her new party, her insistance on getting paid, checkin the morgue for falin,when things get too complicated she focuses on what she can do now).

seemed to have suffered pretty badly under laios leadership

both seem to be treated as outcasts on the island, namari despite growing up there , shuro for being a forienger even tho 4/6 ppl on his party are foreign

theres interesting contrasts w her replacement senshi, in the way theyre both outcasts in the dwarven community and the way their family/partys legacies weigh heavily for them. but i ran out of steam

shes good at keeping ppl grounded and has a good inventory of ppls strengths. of the three ppl who left the party, i think she has the best potential to be a good leader at the start.

shes pretty linked to the community of adventurers as a whole but (u guessed it) i ran out of steam

I think a lot of her role in the story parallels w the theme that u need careful boundaries and consideration of other ppls needs to be an effective leader, something chilchuck hits upon a lot. but also you need to take care of your own needs first (senshis running theme) and be able to take good inventory of your desires to face the future (izutsumis running theme)

[neteyamsilly]

❀ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒊𝒗𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔) ❀

“It should not be a luxury, but a right to choose, to fight for the family that you want.”

“I fight... for the family that I have.”

pairing ;; neteyam (20) x reader (21)

synopsis ;; Your right to be a child ended at the ripe age of one with the butchering of your birth family in the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains, but the newborn daughter of your adopted mother and father was your rebirth as a big sister — suddenly your life had purpose and direction, you were content endlessly doting on Loratirea despite being nothing but unwanted baggage who didn’t quite belong, convinced that they were impatient for the day you would finally leave the nest. 

And leave the nest you did, alright.  

Originally from the Anurai clan, your family had to seek Uturu from the Omatikaya after relentless raids from the sky people resulted in the passing of your father. 

He was the only link you had to this family as the one with blood connection to you, and you’re forever grateful to your (step)mother for treating you like another one of hers when you’re already well past the age to find a mate of your own, you wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t have your sister and her. They weren’t obligated to let a mere orphan in on their love at all in the first place, and you owe it to your remaining family to look after them until they’re happily integrated and safe in Toruk Makto’s fortress, and then you’ll be able to go back to Bone Sanctuary, finally move on with your life after paying your debt. 

You take the sign of atokirina flocking around your sister the night you arrive as the period at the end of your resolve. Loratirea is chosen by Eywa as a blessing to the Omaticaya, the Olo’eyktan and his family are beyond thrilled to have her become a part of the clan, the mating between her and the eldest son training to be the next Olo’eyktan is immediately the hot topic amongst people the morning after. 

You’ll make sure your sweet sister is mated with the perfect man who can make her the happiest Na’vi in the world. You’re not sure what Eywa is trying to say, but Loratirea will not be burdened by duty, you refuse to let her tread on the path you’re walking on, it may be selfish on your part, but she deserves nothing but the best. 

The best happens to be Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, or so they say. 

And he is at the bottom of your list. That impudent boy will keep away from your sister if he knows what’s good for him, especially after all the atrocious qualifications he’s listed about what it had to take to be his mate with no room for love in there — the single thing your sister wants most in her life. The way he viewed love, the way he viewed tìmuntxa as nothing but a responsibility to better protect his family…

No, he’s not worthy of her. Loratirea deserves more than to exist to serve Jakesuli’s immediate family. You will make Neteyam get it before your sister completes her rite of passage. He will back off and find another miserable, unfortunate soul for his cause.

And oh, how he hates you for getting in his way, choking him, surrounding him like ivy the more he tries to move — to free himself.

notes / explanations ;;

❀ ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

❀ avatar the way of water did not happen and the sully family remained in the forest. neteyam grew up to be extremely pressured and has nothing in his mind but fulfilling his duties, so his decisions revolve around that.

❀ enemies to lovers, there's plot if you squint and things get messy, heavily based on Bridgerton season 2, neteyam is basically anthony bridgerton and im here to spread the agenda, this is basically neteyam and you bonding over older sibling status and that you are way more similar than you both initially thought!

❀ PLEASE interact omg this is my first work on this blog dont let me flop 😭

COMING SOON ..!

[sorrowlikefalling]

not my usual post, but i care enough to speak.

tw: mention of rape.

was never so disappointed in the world ever. the fact that felonies, misogyny, rape, and other things arent deal breakers for the so many of us is insane. you would rather a felon lead you than a woman. a woman who wouldve stuck up for women. a woman who wouldve supported this country. america, you are truly disappointing. the world was in your hands and you let that man win. the only people who dont care are the ones privileged enough not to. women and people of color have to fear for our lives now. what about the girls younger than me?. how are they gonna make it. 2028 is gonna be long from now. day one and im scared for the rest of the world. fuck everyone who is privileged enough to where your vote doesnt affect you. you changed lives. ruined some. youre disgusting. you would much rather a man like him run, because to this world masculinity equals qualified. to the men, what would your mother think? what about your daughter? your sister? your niece? why would you only preach to your benefit. donald j. trump is going to fuck a lot of people over. thats what you want? he gave police immunity. they can shoot and kill if they want. he is taking away rights from minorities. the women. the lgbtq community. your votes are rooted in the patriarchy. he is a violent man. the most important election of our lives. ruined. god bless america right? liberty and justice for all? ive always said it was bullshit. they want you to pledge to idolatry and fuck you over. the united states is under a disgusting rule. were under control. we arent being worked with. we are controlled. congratulations to the people happy. all it means is that youre privileged. enjoy your silver spoon before it rusts. some of us needed kamala as president. this is what so many people fought against. you wouldnt be here without a woman. think of that before you vote. i wish i could change minds. hes going to deport the immigrants who moved here for their kids or future generations to have a better life. you took that from them. you took our choice from us. another shot for america, but throw it to the ground. they can afford for glass to break. we are in debt in unity. not just by finances. i wish we were more of the united nations than the united states. we are united by state but not by nation. good job americana. you won. you conditioned the world to bow to you and now you got your reign. words arent meant to be on a watch list. i wish we could fight more. die for what you believe in people. they wont get it until you do. im a woman of my own. not a woman of america. you guys wont do us right anyway. woke up in fear for myself and the rest of the world. what about the children. you selfish things. your mother would never be proud of you. speak up and speak loud. if you didnt vote, youre the problem. kamala deserved that. you let her run like water through our hands. you lost her. let her slip. now our fate is in cardboard boxes. houses are paper. you know how easy it is to break that? good job. racism, fascism, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, idolatry, right wing, white supremacists. men upheld by the social hierarchy. you win. give yourself a pat on the back. i hope you throw up and choke. you can call me a liberal, a snowflake, whatever makes you happy. i know based off of that you run most of society. capitalist fucks. bourgeoisie losers. we fought and you took it away. im gonna keep editing this and i will keep saying every word that comes to mind. do it big and do it loud. fight and scream and dont let them forget. brains on pavement mean nothing to those so high they cant see it. god america you disappoint me. fuck you and your eagles. you and your everything. selfishness. trump hates the rest of the world and the minorities in it. hes the majority. dont let him fool you. thank you.

[my-insanity-is-an-artform]

A cut from a fic I’ll never finish:

“Throwback to the time I wished to be dead rather than go through exams!” Reader says, throwing themselves to on the ground with their soup.

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Legend asks.

“Just gotta remind myself that its better to be here than back home.” Reader replies.

“Thats fucked up.” Wild says, straight to the point.

Readers’ head turns. “No its not?” They say, questioningly.

Legend scowls. “It is too.”

“Listen man,” Reader turns back to their food, ignoring the looks of horror from the rest of the chain, “Say what you will, but this is infinitely better than back home.”

Twilight frowns. “You almost died half an hour ago.” He points out.

“And I'm pretty sure my old roommate was planning on killing me and selling my organs to pay off her student loan debt. Also she ate pineapple on pizza which is a whole other level of wrong that I’m not getting involved in.” They place their bowl on the ground. “At least here I won’t lose my only source of money if I sleep in for twenty extra minutes. And I don’t have to pay rent!”

Vaguely horrified looks from the rest of the chain.

“You don’t even have a house here?” From Warriors.

“Yeah!” Reader smiles. “Isn’t it great! Now I don’t have to worry about my landlord breaking into my apartment while I'm sleeping!”

“Your landlord does WHAT.” Twilight stands up, enraged.

“That cannot be legal” Four says, looking horrified.

“It’s allowed on the barest technicality.” Reader explains. “But dont worry! He might have the key to my apartment, but he doesn’t have the key to the six padlocks I added to the door!” All of this said with unnerving cheeriness.

Time places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder, calming him before turning back to Reader.

“He never did anything did he?” He asks. Menacingly.

Reader doesn’t seem to notice the eldests fury. 

“Oh he never got the chance. My most recent roommate was a terrifying sight to behold when angry.”

“Was she the one trying to steal your organs?” Wind asks, clearly in morbid fascination.

“No that was my first roomate. Freshman year in college. Weird times.”

The horror had not dissipated.

“What the Fuck.” Hyrule says. “Seriously, what the Fuck.”

“Yeah it sucks pretty bad.” Reader allows. “So you can see why I like it here.”

“We can see it.” Sky says, still looking vaguely terrified. “I just don’t think we want to.”

“Well you asked.” Reader says, shrugging. “Besides, what I have going on now is nothing compared to my early college days. And by early I mean last year.” 

“First off, we didn’t ask. Legend did.” This from Wild, drawing an offended ‘Hey!’ from Legend. “Second, what the fuck is wrong with your era.”

“Dont say capitalism.” Reader mutters to themself. “Its true but you shouldn’t say it.”

“What’s capitalism?” From Wild.

Oh Boy.

oh my god I love this so much. Just the absolute disbelief that Reader would prefer death over their own world.

Reader is such a whole mood. The good ol' days of crushing capitalism and living off of noodles. Nothing to see here, don’t worry.

Just imagine them telling the chain this and is promptly stuffed with food and muttered promises of various ideas

Please I need more. Im begging you.

[herbatalover]

Hello, hope your having a good day/night?

I dont know if your still taking requests but if you are could I request HH Arthur Morgan x LH Male S/O

A/N: I'm sick, so I might write more fanfics now. Hopefully you'll enjoy <3 I'm sorry if it's not what you had in mind!

HH Arthur Morgan x LH Male Reader

"Crazy bastard"

You were sitting by the fire late at night, drowning your sorrows in some whiskey. It was the usual time where dark thoughts came over you. You were a bad man. A horrible one. You lived a bad life. Not by choice... You had to adapt to the life you were thrown into.

Taken in by a strange couple and their unruly son when you were just a kid. Saved from getting shop by an angry shop lifter. What an interesting day.

"Hand them over boy..." The man growled at you. You hugged the two cans of beans closer to you, glaring at him. You were desperate, starving. You didn't know how to use a gun, how to hunt, so you had to steal. This time however, you got unlucky.

"Piss off" you hissed at him. The man looked furious, pulling a gun out, pointing at you. You froze, feeling like a caged animal. Nowhere to go, getting killed over some food... Not exactly how you wanted to die. Your pa would be disappointed.

No, he'd be disappointed if you gave up. You won't. You held the cans tighter, only raising one hand slowly. The man watched you, hoping you'll pass the cans over to him, and instead was greeted with a middle finger. You gave him a grin.

"I am not dying yet partner" you pushed down the fear, getting ready for a bullet. If you're going to die, then at least with some honor.

There was a gunshot.

But the bullet never came. Instead, the man fell on his knees, wide eye, blood slowly leaving his mouth. He fell on the ground, face first. You looked at him confused before noticing a hole in the back of his head. There was a quiet chuckle behind him.

"Nice work Arthur" said a black haired man, you soon-to-be leader, walking over the man, approaching you. "Now who do we have here?"

From that day on you joined Dutch's boys, becoming their second son. You grew close with Arthur, akward conversation turning into late night talks. But, it wasn't a family you hoped for.

You killed many people. Men, women, children sometimes too. Robbed people, both wealthy and poor. Became an errand boy, especially when Herr Strauss joined, having to go around collecting debts. Beating the crying people who begged for mercy.

You were there when the Backwater mess happened. When John got brought back from being torn apart by wolves. When they brought the woman, Mrs. Adler and the "not O'Driscoll" in. When they brought Sean back home.

And now you were stuck near Rhodes, staring at the fire, thinking how your life would look if you'd try to be a good man. If you tried to behave. If you didn't stole those damn beans.

You got up, sighing heavily, feeling the alcohol go into your blood. You headed over to your tent, passing Dutch. You could've stayed quiet, but something pushed you to open your mouth.

"There he is... When are we going to Tahiti, boss?" You scoffed at him, only to get a confused look. You narrowed your eyes "we both know you plan is bullshit, so how about you tell everyone the truth that we're fucked?" You growled. Dutch, now turning irritated turned to you.

"Cut it out, son. I get you're stressed, but we don't need that right now."

"oh I ain't stressed... I'm just seeing clearly" you grinned, but got yanked away to the side. You blinked confused and turned to yell at whoever grabbed you, until you realized it was your beloved Arthur Morgan.

"What are you doing Y/N?" He frowned and looked at Dutch with a sigh "he's been drinking again.... Don't mind him. You'll work it out, you always do" he nodded to him, pulling you away. You rolled your eyes, pushing him away, yet going in the same direction he was pulling you to - his tent.

"Why do you have to lick everyone's ass?" You muttered, walking in. Arthur frowned, following you.

"We're in a tough situation, no need to steer up more commotion" he walked closer to you. You turned to him, glaring at him.

"Of course, because you're the high and mighty Arthur 'Perfect Son' Morgan, aren't you?!"

He looked at you surprised. To be honest, you yourself wasn't quite sure where that came from.

You loved him. He was the love of your life, you'd never hurt him. But you were jealous. Jealous about how he was better than you. How he was nice to everyone, how they all adored him. How he got smiles and pats on the back while you got scowls and scoffs. You were a bad man, you knew that. But you wanted to be adored. To be known.

Yet being nice seemed to be pathetic.

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, placing his hand on your cheek. You let out a quier sigh, turning your head away. He was looking at you a bit, then cupped your face, turning to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" you pushed his hands away "go be adored. Go find someone who won't ruin your reputation. Go suck everyone's dick so they love you"

"The hell are you talking about?" He laughed, but stopped, noticing you were serious. He frowned, taking your jaw, turning your head to face him.

"I am not leaving you."

"I'm not good for you, Arthur!" You glare at him. "I'm a monster! A good for nothing killer, I don't deserve you, I'm not good for you!"

"Horseshit" the man rolled his eyes. "You're perfect for me"

"I'm not! Maybe you're perfect, but I-" you couldn't even finish because Arthur captured your lips in a soft kiss. You wanted to push him off, but sighed, melting into it. He snickered quietly to which he earned a hit (more of a tap) on the chest. He slowly broke the kiss, looking you in the eyes.

"That's not true" he smiled. "You're everything I could ask for"

You were staring at him quietly, before burying your face in his chest.

"... You smell like cigarettes" you changed the subject. You always did when you got embarrassed or didn't want to face the truth. He sighed softly, petting your head.

You stayed like this for a bit, before you could hear his voice again, jumping a bit as you didn't expect it.

"Hey Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Have you had the dark thoughts again?" He placed his head on top of yours, petting you softly. You blinked.

".... Maybe a bit"

"You know what it means~" he hummed, one of his hands sliding down, grabbing your ass. You tensed up surprised before chuckling quietly.

"Crazy bastard...."

[mocha-gladiator]

Chapter 1

I dont intend to post the chapters in succession, but maybe just a few favorites would be nice. This is based on my favorite fae, the ghillie-dhu, and as many doubts as I've had, I've always kept this one passage. I only hope it means well to you

Year 3702 BT

“Why do you cry, girl?” It was a simple question, never easily answered, but it came from such a soft and honest voice that she at first did not notice the teeth behind the kind smile. Ivy stared at him for a moment, a man dressed in green with moss growing over his shoulders and down his cape. His hair was wavy and black, and his eyes a pale yellow and ever changing, like a cat’s. She watched the pupils grow from slivers as he spoke again. “Why do you cry, girl?” Her own voice sounded like a lamb’s bleat, something she was not used to. But this was not home. This was not a place to be used-to. “I want to go home.” The creature grinned again, with teeth that were certainly not human. Ivy knew that if she had seen him from a distance, she most certainly would have ran, but here close she could see the humanness in his face and the warmth in his laugh. “I know all the trails,” he assured her. “The rabbit’s trail, the mouse’s trail, that of the deer and that of the man. Tell me—where is it you want to go?” “Home,” she bleated at once. But of course that made no sense. Not to him. “Whythiecomb.” The man in green nodded, and reached out a hand. A normal, human hand. “I will show you the way.” Ivy put her hand in his, and was a bit surprised to find it warm. But what had she expected? A cold, dead one? The fae were living creatures, too, after all. She walked with him out of the briar patch and stepped onto a trod path that had not been there before. Or else, if it had, she would have found it and followed it, right? The girl did not even know up from down in this forest anymore, not with night falling. Maybe the path had been there, and she had just been too tired to notice. Regardless, the dirt felt better on her bare feet, and the forest not nearly so scary with someone there for comfort and guidance. “Thank you,” she breathed, watching out the other way. “Do not thank anyone in the fae forest,” the black-haired man warned. “Someone might think that you owe them a favor if you say those words.” Ivy looked up at him. His tone felt different, but still gentle towards her, and his face was still on the road. “What do I say instead?” she asked. The fae was quiet for a moment, and she watched his yellow eyes dart around as he searched for the right thing to say. “You do not say. You choose some small thing to do or say instead.” He held up a silver hand, pointing up. “But you do not owe me a thing. Understood?” “Yeah.” She said on reflex, and he could tell she did not. His strange eyes turned back to her. Was it worth explaining? They had a little ways to go yet. He turned back to the road and drew a breath. “If you speak the thanks, the other person takes it as an owed debt, and they can choose to take it from you whenever they like, but you act out the thanks yourself, you get to choose. Sometimes all it has to be is leaving out a bowl of cream, or a shiny trinket. Does not have to be much.” Ivy tugged on his hand. “Isn’t a bowl of cream for cats? Do you like cream?” The fae chuckled under his breath and tugged her hand in turn. “No, girl. I asked for no thanks. I am just warning you if you were to meet someone else. But don’t come back this way again, yea? There are beasts in these woods that would like to eat little girls like you.” “No, there’re not.” she said at once. “Yes, there are,” he insisted. “Do not come back. I will not be here. I will not let you find me if you look. It is not safe.” He slowed to a stop as the treeline faded into a grassy field, and beyond lie a mill and farm and a pen with goats. The fae knelt down in the tall grass and set his other hand atop hers and looked her in the eye with his strange ones. She watched as his cheeks smiled kindly, and the darks of his eyes grew big. “But if you are ever lost in the woods again, you can call me, and I will come find you.” Her face drooped as she realized she would have to leave soon. “How will I call you?” she asked.

“I am Morad. Do you think you can remember that?” He cocked his head at her. “You are quite young. You may not.” “I will!” she said at once, bouncing on her feet. “I will, I promise!” Worry flashed in his eyes, followed by bemusement before his sharp-toothed grin returned and he shook his head. “Well, what is my name, then?” She stopped and stared at him. “Uhhhhm….” Another quiet chuckle stirred in his throat. “Morad,” he reminded. “My name is Morad.” “Morad,” she repeated back, then looked at him rather puzzled. “That’s a weird name.” The fae shook his head. “Not really, but I have forgotten my real one.” He winked. “Somebody stole it.” Her face crinkled up. How could somebody steal a name? You could not even touch it. “You’d best be off,” he pressed. “The stars will be out soon, and your family will start to miss you.” Her face sobered again. “Do you really have to go? You could come live with us.” For a moment, the strange creature almost looked hurt, as if he might cry, but the softness soon came back. “Nae. Homes are for little girls like you.” He poked her belly. “I am a wild thing, like the deer. The woods are my home.” “Can I see you again?” she asked as he rose to his feet. “Maybe,” he considered. “But do not come looking for me. You will never find me that way.” “But—“ Her mother’s voice came on the wind, and she turned her head to see the woman at the bottom of the fields near the stream. When she turned back, the fae was gone—nothing there beside her but a few crushed stalks. Her face saddened, but she turned towards home. “Goodbye, Morad,” she called anyway, waving her hand at the pitch dark. A pair of eyes glowed from the bushes, and the shadows brightly answered, “Goodbye, girl.”