#i felt it fitting to draw the angel he created

[texasflowers]

DEP Akira Toriyama 🕊

#i felt it fitting to draw the angel he created #dbz #db #dragon ball z #teen gohan #son gohan #dbz gohan #i know drawing the super saiyajin hair as glowing is unoriginal #i specifically was inspired from an artist on tumblr who did it with goku a while back

[heartfullofleeches]

angel darling whos a bit disconnected from modern terms walking up to c.c and saying "yas girl slay. so cunty girlypop" with not contexr because they saw it online and thought it was a normal compliment

Yan Incubus + Angel Darling blurb

-

The human world is such a fun and interesting place.

Everywhere you look, you learn something new. Things have changed so much since the last time you interacted with the mortal realm, but with the help of the kind demon you met during your travels you've had an easier time at processing everything at a beginner's pace. Your superiors always warned you to steer clear of his kind, but he hardly seemed like a threat. Not only had he given you bed and board, but as an added gift for staying away from humans as he instructed the demon had given you a cellular device to use while he was away.

There was a lengthy list of restrictions on the device, his number was the only one you could call under these boundaries, but that hardly put a damper on your fascination with it. You haven't seen one of these since they were just buttons and dials attached to a cord on the wall. It's amazing how much human technology has advanced in such a short time. Regardless of setbacks you're learning new facts about the modern world left and right, and you owe it all to your new companion.

You felt as if you owed him for his kindness, despite him insisting your company was payment enough. If that truly was the case, what better way to thank him than with gentle adulation using words you've picked up during late night binges scouring the internet. He always teases you for your "grandma speech" when you've complimented him in the past, despite the flush of his cheeks reaching his ears everytime. You wonder what his reaction will be when you call him by terms more fitting to the times.

C.C poses in front of his mirror - balancing on his toes as he bends to get a better look at the curve of his skirt over his rear. "So what do you think, babe? Am I cute enough for your first night out on the town?"

It's about the sixth time he's changed his skirt alone, but you think he's looked lovely in all of them. Nevertheless- it's your time to shine. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back as your eyes meet his from the mirror.

"Slay, Queen - you are serving so much cunt, girlypop."

C.C blinks - expression drain from his face. "What?"

"I said - Sla-"

"No, I heard what you said. Where did you pick up that kind of language?"

"Aside from you, online, I suppose."

C.C rounds the side of the bed, extending his hand with a few dramatic gestures forward. "Gimme your phone."

"Huh?"

He huffs and leans in close. "Now, Y/n."

"Have I don't something to upset you?"

Eyes flashing red, C.C grips your shoulders - hissing through his teeth as he speaks. "You aren't supposed to say things like that. You're supposed to call me beautiful or "a grace among man" or any of that other cute dorky shit you normal call me."

"Oh.... my apologies. I didn't mean to offend."

C.C sighs, throwing his arms around you in a tight hug. "No.. it's alright, I just really like what you use now. It's cheesy, but it's you and you are the most adorable your God ever had a hand in creating." He kisses your cheek, lips curled into that mischievous grin he's known for as they draw up to your ear. "But - I'll gladly be your Queen any day so I don't mind if we keep that one.... I'm still blocking the sites you picked the rest of those words off of."

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere incubus #C.C my oc

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x daughter!Reader (Platonic)

So, I finally gave in and watched the series. It was cool but the pacing was a bit too fast for me and sometimes i felt like it was deviating way too much from the original plot for such a short series. But wow, y'all were right about Alastor. He stole the show. I wanted to write something for him, but I was not sure how to proceed given that he is aroace (tremendous irony considering that I might be aroace irl). Nothing seemed to fit, given that this dude has never had a bit of romance in his life and refuses to do so. But I came accross a wonderful fic about Alastor having an adopted daughter who became an angel, and everything made sense to me. I saw the light. Whoever you are, I will find your fic again, like it, and reblog it.

Big reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason. TW: gory elements, blood, near decapitation, implied death threat towards a child.

This is not proof read. So please excuse any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Part I (You are here!)｜Part II｜Part III

This deer man has never shown interest in neither romance nor sex. So the only logical conclusion is that he adopted you when you were just a baby.

He found the idea of having that much power and control over someone amusing, molding them just the way he desired.

How unexpected it was for him to suddenly find that it was you who had him wrapped around your little finger and not the other way around!

But how could he not adore you! You were delightful! You were his little fawn, always so sweet and loving, he would have thought his own beloved mama had been secretly raising you from the afterlife!

Oh, with how much joy your eyes filled when you saw your papa return home after a long day at work! He was your everything, always smiling and fun loving, but also knowing where to draw the line.

He absolutely loved singing to you, his tunes filled with rythm along with the smoothness of his voice were enough to give you a full night of sleep filled with sweet dreams.

And while you dreamed... Your dad was outside, creating nightmares.

He made sure you never got to see that side of him. You were too naive and pure, your light could become corrupted.

Very overprotective father. Always subtly controlling who are you hanging out with and how much time (he would despise having to share his beloved child's attention with someone else) "Darling, I think you have already played enpugh with X I'm sure their parents miss them." (and if they don't, they WILL).

Finding about your Papa's double life would be entirely on accident. One day, he would take you to his job at the radio station, and some drunk and racist asshole would harass you on the streets, terrifying you out of your mind. Your dad kept a calm and collected expression never once losing that charming smile of his, but you could tell something was off. He quickly brushed it off, casually reminding you that it was just your terrified imagination playing tricks on you.

That night, your papa was taking too long from the station, so you decided to come and get him (dunno how safe the streets would be for a child that time because reader is about 13-14 years old). You wished you had waited and stayed home. Because the only light was coming from the recording studio, and peeking through the small opening, your blood froze in your veins.

Your Papa was pushing off himself the dead body of the same man that had assaulted you early that day. His pristine white shirt that he always made sure to keep in perfect conditions was drenched with blood that was quickly drying up.

You quietly tiptoed your way back to the entrance, wondering how you weren't heard given how loud your heart was hammering in your chest.

You felt like your entire world had come crashing down, and as you returned home, you tried your best picking up the remaining pieces.

Your beloved father would never do something like that, right? There had to be a misunderstanding. That was it. That man had viciously assaulted you earlier that day, maybe he came back and tried to attack your dad at his job? It had to be self defense. That was the only option.

Your dad seemed to be breathing heavily, probably from the adrenaline rush from having had to take a life in self defense, but had you not been so shocked and scared, maybe you would have noticed the manic glee in his eyes and the way his smile had widened into something outright demonic.

You decided you would never tell anyone. Yes, it was horrifying that it had ended up like this, but telling anybody could get your dad in serious trouble and in this case he was not the one to blame.

So you kept quiet. Tried to act as normal as you could in front of your father and everyone else. If Alastor noticed, he never told. Everything seemed back to normal, until...

Until one day someone knocked at your door. A police officer. He seemed to be asking questions about the guy you saw your dad kill, protect himself from, a week ago. He was the son of some big shot from the city. A very important one. Rats.

He had come knocking on your door because some witeness had said that the very same day of his murder he had saw him in an altercation with your dad. Double rats.

It was amazing how your father didn't lose composure at all, not even for a second, always keeping a calm smile on his face while he patiently described the events of that day. You could barely refrain from shaking, how was he so relaxed?.

You knew your father was lying, he had to. What else could he do? Confess that that man had assaulted him again at his studio at night and he had to fight for his life? He would be hanged. No one would believe his word against that of a rich white man.

When the officer left, you thought that would be the end of it, your father's charms having won him over as always.

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened a week later.

The first red flag would have been having your father letting you stay at a friend's house for the night. That never happened. Your father always insisting very dramatically that if he were to be apart from you for an entire night he would surely die of grief!

But that day something seemed... Weird. Your father had a determined look on his face and gave you no explanation when you asked if there was something wrong.

You couldn't sleep, there was this nagging at the back of your head that was practically screaming at you that you should return home right now.

You quietly sneaked out of your friend's house in the middle of the night and made your way back home. That unnerving feeling growing inside your mind. 'Just a quick peek, just to make sure he's alright and I'll go back to my friend's'

The lights at your home were on, but it was so dim you could barely make out anything. It was coming from the basement. Someone was humming a tune, you recognized your father's voice.

There was a terrible smell coming from there, like rotten fruit mixed with burning trash. It made you gag, but at the same time you needed to know what was going on there.

Curiosity killed the cat, that was your father always told you.

On top of the wooden table, laid a dead body that you sadly knew too well. It was the police offcer that had come home to interrogate you a week ago. His chest had been cut open and some organs seemed missing. His head had been nearly torn from his body and was only hanging by a few tendons in his neck. The blood was forming a sticky puddle on the floor.

If that wasn't horrifying enough for you the worst part had to be the look on your father's face. Joy. Pure unbridled joy and elation. It chilled you to the bone.

You tried to take a step back, tried to return to you friend's house and forget everything, pretend this had never happened. But your shoe got stuck. And you fell backwards.

That caught Alastor's attention. His joyful expression changed into one of confusion, but never once losing his smile.

"Y/N?" He asked flatly.

You bolted. You didn't know what to do where to run, but you knew you had to escape before he caught you.

You could hear him giving chase, calling your name. You could see him getting close, reaching for you.

What you didn't see was the truck that ended it all.

#alastor x reader #alastor #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: gore #tw: body horror #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #platonic reader

[fuedalreesespieces]

one of their downtimes in the present after school, kagome braids inuyasha's hair (twins, french, dutch, etc.) while they watch magical girl anime. inuyasha is surprisingly into it (the anime and having his hair played with)

oh, you are so right about this.

.

.

.

"So he's the other guy?"

Kagome's fingers raked through his hair, parting it in two. He had no idea what she was doing, but it felt nice. So nice, in fact, that his attention was starting to wane from the television screen in front of him, if that was possible.

"Sort-of," Kagome amended, bringing a comb to the right side of his hair. Silver locks spilled down his shoulders, brushing against the enormous bowl of potato chips they shared. "He's kinda like a vessel for him, but he doesn't know it."

"Geez," Inuyasha grumbled. "All that power and he doesn't even know it exists."

Kagome let out an airy laugh. On screen, the boy called Yukito transformed into Yue. The bright colors fascinated him just as much as the feeling of Kagome's hands carding through his hair. He didn't quite get the concept of animation until she made him an example and even then, that simple jumping ball she'd created was leagues away from...whatever this was.

How did this even get on the screen, anyway? He'd suspected there was someone trapped in the back, but the box was much too tiny for even a kit like Shippo, and it was all clogged up with tangled wires. She'd explained the broadcasting system to him, but he still didn't understand how waves could translate to pictures. Eventually he'd given up on working out the concept, and his confusion never kept him from settling under her gentle hands and letting the story unfold in front of them.

She'd called it anime, a category for the style of art and animation used in the show they were watching, and Inuyasha had to admit it was wildly entertaining. Convoluted plots be damned, the fights were terribly engaging. Sota had told him that the sort of shows Kagome dragged him into were called magical girl anime, and which thereafter prompted a giggle from the younger boy. Inuyasha didn't quite get the joke, if there was one to be had. The way he saw it, the magical girls were just like the metal golems ("Mechs," Sota had corrected him) in the things Sota liked to watch - albeit better dressed.

On screen, Yue spoke, voice eerily cold compared to his counterpart. A chill ran down Inuyasha's spine. "He looks like Sesshomaru," he muttered.

Kagome finished one his braids and peered over his ears, her chin digging into his shoulder as she leaned in to see what she'd missed. "You know...I haven't really thought about it, but he sort of does. Minus the angel wings, of course." At Inuyasha's bark of laughter, she inched closer and smirked. "Think he'd make a good magical girl?"

An image of Sesshomaru wearing a skirt seemed to enter their minds at the same time, and upon making eye contact, they both collapsed in a fit of laughter. "Evil," he said between breaths, "absolutely fuckin' evil, what you just said."

"I was merely asking a question," she said innocently, her grin wicked. "But now that I think about it, I think you'd fit in better than him."

"Me?" he said incredulously.

"Why not? You've got a weapon-"

"A massive sword, not a magic wand-"

"-transformations-"

"One of 'em is useless and the other kills people-"

"You are not useless," she said immediately. "You're wonderful just as you are."

He was thankful the room was dark. "Kagome-"

"All you really need," she said, "is a change of clothes. Have you ever even been out of the Fire Rat?"

He scoffed. "Why should I? It's my armor. Why, you suggestin' I wear your clothes?" His attention returned to the television, where Yue was drawing an arrow back, but Kagome's ridiculous smile quickly emerged in his vision. She'd finished his hair and had come to sit beside him, fiddling with one of the two braids she'd done.

"Well...I do have an old school uniform-"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Inuyasha! Please?"

"I'm not wearing one of your skirts!" he shouted, face as bright as a plucked tomato.

"But I just finished your hair!"

"And what the hell does that have to do with it?"

"You would look good, I promise!" she assured. "Nobody's around."

"Your entire family is in the house, Kagome."

"And I'm sure they would all support your decision to finally be the magical girl you were born to be."

He rolled his eyes and twisted his head so she couldn't tempt him with that smile of hers. "You're crazy."

She slipped into his view and batted her eyelashes. "For me?"

"Woman, if you don't-"

"Please, Inuyasha?"

He told himself not to look. Her voice alone couldn't tempt him. He thought of happy things in his mind, like ramen, or cooked steak, but the image of her sad, droopy eyes kept tainting the images, and when he eventually cracked one eye open, she was still kneeling in front of him, hands clasped and wide, grey eyes lit up like silver by the artificial light of the television. The decision to keep staring at her, like a stubborn fool, damned him. She had him wrapped around her finger the second he chose not to close his eyes - or perhaps he'd been doomed to agree from the start.

Either way, all paths lead to him wearing the skirt.

"Oh my god," Kagome whispered. "Oh my god."

"Shut up," he snapped. The waistline was too tight, but he'd somehow managed it. The outfit he wore was simply a spare uniform she had stashed away in case hers was ripped up in the feudal realm, but she insisted that plenty magical girls wore similar clothing (did the schools purposefully let their girls dress up as magical girls?) At her request, he'd worn a pair of elbow length gloves, boots, and "Happy?"

"Oh, Inuyasha," she sighed, and his face turned another shade of red. "You have no idea."

#help idk what this turned into #anyway inuyasha's a magical girl we all knew this right #inuyasha #inukag #inuyasha x kagome #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha a feudal fairy tale

[ashleigghh]

Day 31- midnight, jegulus... I went a bit overboard with this one... 2051 words. IN MY DEFENCE IT'S THE FINAL ONE AND IF YOU READ MY AO3 NOTE YOU'LL SEE WHY

Regulus wasn’t a very social person, he didn’t like interacting with others, he didn’t like the overwhelming chaos that came with trying to follow 15 people talking and he especially despises trying his hardest to fit in with the people around him and still feeling like a total outcast. 

Despite this, he had foolishly allowed himself to be dragged to James Potter’s New Year's Eve party by his friends. This had been an awful, awful decision and he had regretted it the second he walked through the door. 

The music was too loud, pounding around his head like it was beating his brain from the inside, the smell of alcohol was overwhelming and the crowds of people pushing on him from every side made him feel violently ill, he had wanted to turn around and walk right back out the front door, but Barty and Dorcas had taken an arm each and dragged him to a table overflowing with all sorts of drinks and handed him a concoction he wasn’t sure was safe to drink. 

This was fine, okay, he could manage a couple hours here as long as his friends stuck by him, the dull numbness of the alcohol making it bearable to be in this room. He was promptly abandoned by said friends and he was trying desperately hard not to be mad at them about it. 

Dorcas was across the room talking animatedly to her girlfriend and a few mutual friends that Regulus could’ve gone over to but didn’t want to intrude, he would’ve felt out of place and he didn’t want to ruin their night. Pandora was dancing peculiarly with her boyfriend in the middle of an open area that had been turned into a makeshift dancefloor and Evan and Barty were making out on a sofa so intimately that Regulus wished they would just find a room already.

Regulus stood on his own, nursing the cup of a disgusting amount of mixed drinks and trying his hardest not to scream and punch the next person who stumbled into him in the face. 

He spoke to a few people here and there, catching up with someone he hadn’t seen in a while, exchanging pleasantries and laughing about something from their time at school, it had only been a year and a half since they left Hogwarts but it felt like a decade had passed already. 

This hadn’t even been a possibility for the past hour? 3 hours? Regulus had lost track of time, everything seemed to be dragging out, torturing him. He was beginning to wonder if he had died and if this was his personal hell. Anyway, the point is he hadn’t even had anyone to talk to because everyone had become so intoxicated it was a slurring, mumbling mess that Regulus couldn’t even try to have a conversation with because they were so out of it. 

He had finally managed to escape, hiding in an annexe in the spacious library of Potter Manor. The room was Regulus’ favourite, he had come in here for the first time when he was 16 years old and first ran away from home, trying to find a place where he wouldn’t be bothered by his brother or James. 

The library had been his safe haven. Tall shelves lined the walls and created aisles across the room, what must have been thousands of books towering over his head. The ceiling was a mural, delicate drawings that must have taken months to paint, angels stretching out above him reaching for the stars. There were large windows that went from the floor to the ceiling, looking out over the extensive grounds, a fountain with a statue in its centre lining up in the middle of the gravel directly outside 

Inside there were several annexes, like the one Regulus was holed up in now, hidden in the shelves, a comfortable curved seat and a string of warm lights creating a little space to curl up with a book and disappear for a while. Regulus had used it to hide then and used it to hide now. 

He had, however, never been very good at hiding from James Potter. James had a unique knack of finding Regulus no matter where he went or how hidden he seemed to be, it didn’t matter if he was in the darkest, most remote corner of the world, James would be able to find him. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise to Regulus when he heard the heavy wooden doors to the library creak open and a set of footsteps start walking immediately to the annexe he was hidden in. 

“Found you,” James whispered teasingly, ducking into the annexe, sitting on the other end of the deep green sofa, his body turned to face Regulus with his feet on the seat between them, knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on top. 

“I don’t think the host is supposed to disappear from the party,” Regulus looks up from his book momentarily, raising an eyebrow as he looks at James, trying to work out why he’s up here with him instead of down enjoying the night with people that are more fun. James shrugs and Regulus can see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s the host’s job to make sure everybody is having a good time,” Regulus closes his eyes at James’ response, ignoring the twinge in his chest as the words settle around his heart. 

“I’m not your responsibility, go back to the party,” he doesn’t want to ruin this for James. Regulus doesn’t want to be a burden causing James to abandon his own party to come and sit with him in a quiet corner of the house when he hosted this party to enjoy himself. 

“No, you’re not, but I prefer hanging out with you anyway,” James responds without a second thought, looking at Regulus with that stupid grin on his face. 

“Yeah sure,” Regulus scoffs, turning the page on his book but trying to sneak a glance at James’ expression out of the corner of his eye. James frowns slightly, not liking the fact that Regulus doesn’t believe him and shuffles forward slightly. 

“I do, why would I not?” James asks like it isn’t obvious, and it’s so oblivious and innocent that it makes Regulus laugh.

“You hosted this busy, loud party that I got dragged to and then ran away from to hide in your library and read a book, there’s a big difference in how we like to spend our time,” 

“Well, yeah, the party’s fun and all and I like making it so people can have fun but I still prefer you over all of them,” James says like his words have no effect on those around him like he can say these things and people won’t be affected by the meaning behind his words. 

“You don’t have to come up here and try to make me feel better, it only makes me feel worse.” Regulus really just wants James to go, he’s probably drunk and doesn’t really know what he’s saying and this is only going to hurt.

“Why won’t you believe me?” James exclaims, waving his arms out to the side in frustration and Regulus gulps harshly, he’s managed to piss James off already and it’s only been a few minutes. He doesn’t know why he’s like this, he can’t help it, there is just something fundamentally wrong with him that causes him to always say and do the wrong thing. 

“Sorry,” James whispers into the now awkward silence between them, his arms tucked into his chest tightly as if he’s keeping them as far away as possible. “I’m not mad at you I just don’t understand,” 

“It’s okay,” Regulus closes his book, feeling like the moment calls for it and places it on the side table. “I don’t understand either,” 

“I want you to believe me, Reg, but I don’t know how to make that happen,” Regulus turns to face James, mirroring his position on the sofa, shrugging at James as he tries to find the words. 

“I don’t think you can,” Regulus wonders if James can hear his heart shattering as he utters the words into the quiet, the noise seeming to echo in the open room, taunting him as it repeats back to him over and over. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” James smiles, trying to lighten the mood, but his smile isn’t as bright as it usually is and Regulus is hit with another wave of guilt.

“You don’t have to do that,” Regulus goes to protest more but James cuts him off,

“I want to, and I’ll keep telling you I want to until you believe me, and even then I’ll still repeat it to make sure you never doubt it,” And the worst part is, Regulus wants to believe him, he really does but theres something that makes it impossible, 

“You don’t know me, If you did you wouldn’t be saying any of this,” James scoffs and shoots Regulus an incredulous look, 

“Reg, I know you,” 

“You don’t-” Regulus is cut off again and he would be offended if the words coming out of James’ mouth weren’t so eye-opening 

“Yes, I do,” James starts rambling, looking Regulus right in the eye, barely even blinking to try and show Regulus that he’s telling the truth. “I know you Regulus. I know you always read the last page of a book before you start it, I know you secretly love it when your friends throw their arms over your shoulders, I know your favourite chocolates are the same as Dorcas' so you pretend not to like them, so, she has them. I know you let Pandora think she's gotten away with stealing your jumpers without you noticing, I know you secretly want people to call you baby black because it makes you feel closer to Sirius. I know you love it when your book group wants to gossip instead of talk about the book. I know you Regulus, from how you take your coffee in the morning to your biggest hopes for the future, and I love you” 

James takes a deep breath, letting his words hang between them, giving Regulus the chance to process and really take in what he said. Regulus blinks back the tears in his eyes and tries to keep his voice steady as he responds.

“Okay,” He breaths out shakily, failing to hide his tears from James, who leans forward and wipes them away by brushing his thumb gently over Regulus’ cheek, “Okay, I believe you,” 

James beams and it's back to the bright, blinding smile Regulus is used to, the one that lights up a room and really shows just how happy James is. Regulus can’t help but smile back softly despite the tears still escaping his eyes. 

“You believe me?” James checks and he laughs in a way that feels like liquid joy pouring over the two of them when Regulus nods to confirm. 

“You love me?” Regulus questions, wanting to clarify if James meant it the way Regulus took it, being prepared to smile through the agony of James saying he loves him the same way he loves everyone he’s close to, 

“I do,” James answers like they’re getting married like he’s telling the world he wants Regulus to be his forever. To James, he is telling his world that he wants to be with him forever. “Do you believe me?” 

“I do,” Regulus responds, trying to express the same emotion but unable to force the words out, they stick in his throat like sickening syrup, clogging his airway and choking him. He loves James, but he can’t tell him that, he doesn’t know how to. 

“Can I kiss you?” James asks, his gaze darting from Regulus’ eyes to his lips, his gaze lingering as he watches Regulus’ mouth move to respond, 

“Please,” James kisses him the second he’s sure of the confirmation that that's what Regulus wants too, crashing their lips together as the windows light up in an array of colourful explosions.

Regulus has never really liked the saying ‘new year, new me’ but as the clock hits midnight, and the fireworks explode in an array of sparkling light, James Potter kisses him, and he finally understands what they mean and how much a person can change in the span on one kiss.

#christmas #marauders era #christmas writing challenge #regulus black #jegulus #james x regulus #dorcas meadowes #marauders #james potter #james is a simp #regulus and james #new years #happy new year #new years eve #new year new me #regulus is me i am him

[ah-bright-wings]

Something New - A Christmas Reflection

The rise and fall of the baby’s chest is steady. Joseph watches it, straw prickling his back. Mary is asleep with her head on his chest. He has an arm around her. The staff in his hand stretches over her legs like a shield.

The rain has stopped, though the night air remains cool and damp. Joseph stretches to adjust the blanket over the baby, marveling over him again. He is so small. When Joseph held him while Mary washed herself, the baby’s head fit in one of his calloused hands, scalp downy soft beneath his fingers. 

He’d been afraid to hold him. All his life, he has served his God. He says his daily prayers, and he knows the scriptures. Like all the rest, he has waited for Messiah to free them and set all things in right order. But this, surely, this dirty straw and muck, is not what God intends. His created hands are not meant to hold his Creator.

Joseph is no zealot. He is no priest. Some days, walking beneath the shadow of hillside crosses, he wonders where his God might be. Where might he be, the one who made the rivers of Egypt run red with blood? Does he see the blood on Galilean hills? Where is the Lord Almighty, above and before all things, who gave man his breath and who comes swiftly to save his people? Where is he?

Here he is. Joseph knows him, even as he draws the blanket over tiny curled toes, too afraid to touch this Holy of Holies. Scripture comes to his mind unbidden, Isaiah’s words as fresh and sweet as dew on his tongue:

“Behold, I am doing something new. Do you not perceive it?”

He is made still by the words, breath caught in his chest. His hand shakes. He draws it back. The baby grunts and kicks in his sleep, and Mary exhales softly. 

Joseph had a plan. He had several plans over the years, each polished and made beloved in his mind. Once, his world was only wood shavings and Joachim’s daughter with her stuck-out ears and blue veil. He saw her drawing water from the well, and it felt to him like she was Rebekah, and he, Abraham’s servant, seeing and knowing it must be her. He had never been more certain. Her father was a good and holy man, and her mother as virtuous as she. He built her a home. What little he could offer, simplicity and safety, he would, and it would be enough for them.

Then one day, his brother came to the door, and whispered through it what he’d heard in town.

Gossip is idle, and of no good use. Joseph was certain Mary would set his heart at ease when he came to her, quiet and ashamed to repeat the story. But she did not ease him. She took his hands, and her smile was tremulous. His plans were no more.

Joseph wept in his empty home, knees curled to his chest, with no one to hear him but the Almighty. What did the Almighty care for the small dreams of a carpenter from Nazareth? He wanted to curse God, but kept his teeth closed against the words. Better that he be struck dead than disgrace the name of his Lord. He would not make Mary a spectacle. He would be quiet. 

It was yet another plan brought to ruin. 

In the silence of that night came the angel, terrible and holy, and Joseph covered his face for fear. “Do not be afraid,” the angel told him, as it had told Mary. She speaks even now with such calm about her own visitation. Joseph, when he thinks of his, though he had been dreaming, shakes anew. “Do not be afraid,” the angel had said. “Take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”

Putting her aside would have been easier. The angel spoke, and he trembled and hid his face, sat in the rubble of his plans like Job. How could he not be afraid? He is afraid now, sitting here with straw pricking his back, with Mary’s head on his chest, with his God asleep in a feeding trough, cushioned by Joseph’s own cap. Oh God, he is afraid. He is afraid. He is in awe.

Is this the better way, Lord? he wonders. The one for which you have toppled all my plans? 

Slowly, he reaches out to touch the baby’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of it. A fragile heart flutters beneath his fingers. It stirs in his breast something strong and fierce, and his eyes turn to the mouth of the cave, as if wild bandits or wolves might suddenly spring forth to devour this helpless God. His grip tightens on his staff.

The rain begins again, drumming lightly. It will keep the streets empty. The shepherds in the fields will be soaked, they and their flocks. Praise God for this cave, cold and damp though it is. Praise God for his ratty cloak, and the straw to lie on. 

Here is his God. His eyes are drawn again to the baby. Softly, so as not to disturb mother or sleeping child, he leans over to kiss the downy hair and thumb the stuck-out ears. The baby turns in his sleep. Joseph takes a deep breath.

“Behold,” says the still, small voice, “I am doing something new. Do you not perceive it?”

#writing #not art #merry almost christmas everyone! #as promised here is a companion piece to my marian reflection from last year #this one was inspired by the song All Things New Reimagined by Eliza King #back at it again with the 2am posts #christianity #st joseph #christmas

[possiblylando]

Crackpot Theory about Rher and Alll-Mer [Termina Ending Spoilers]

What if Rher was the Sun God who's soul Alll-Mer absorbed in order to ascend? Stay with me on this one I think it may have some water. Everything we know about Ascension is as follows: 1. You need to absorb the soul of an Old God. That's it for the concrete knowledge. 2. You may also need to already be of divinity because the Girl was the daughter of Le'Garde and the New God Nilvan. We also know All-Mer was the son of a Mortal and some sort of Divinity. As far as I'm aware it's never specified who but I feel it's safe to assume the "False God" was a New God. From the one Ascension we've seen in the series it was the God of the Depths being absorbed by the Girl. When an Old God's soul is absorbed only some aspects of them are taken under the Ascended God. Depths additionally had dominion over Vermin and Insects. In Termina after Fear and Hunger ascended it now only has dominion over Insects as F&H has taken Vermin. All of this is to say- What if Rher wasn't just a Moon God Originally? We know that Rher is "Absent" whatever it means for a God to be absent yet still radiant. Looking at old depictions of Rher in books he looks a bit different to his modern day appearance.

To point out the obvious, The moon is now full. Could this change in appearance be due to the original Soul being absorbed by Alll-Mer and a new* god being created from it? We don't see the new Depths in Termina so it's hard to say for sure. *New as in the sense that current Rher is a separate being from ancient Rher. F&H has a whole has a shit ton of influences from the real world. So I think it's fair to use real world symbolism when talking about it. Rher's original form could've been more of a Sun & Moon god. Linking the two together has been a common thing throughout all of human history. Plus that sort of Crescent Moon over Sun imagery is rather common. [Purely for Illustrative Purposes]

If you where to remove the sun flares from it then old Rher is spot on. I feel pretty confident in this theory however it has one pretty big flaw I feel the need to point out. Neither Rher, Alll-Mer or Sulfur's symbols look alike.

My shitty paint drawings cause finding good images of them is annoying me. Also- Sulfur is Alll-Mer's negative essence split off from himself during (maybe before) ascension. Which is why I mention it since it's only really present in one ending. Bonus I didn't feel fit elsewhere + not strong evidence.

In Battle Rher's appearance shifts again as he gains rings around himself. This evokes images of the Thrones which are a type of angel described in the bible. At their center is their true form surrounded by bright fire (Debatably the fire is around the rings themselves). You know what else is a ball of bright fire? The Sun. Yeah. Not- The greatest evidence. Still felt like I should mention it. So let's summarize. 1. Rher's appearance has changed since his Skin Bible was written. 2. Rher's old appearance looks like a crescent moon overlapping a sun. 3. We know vaguely that Alll-Mer absorbed the Sun God's soul in order to ascend. 4. Rher is current "Absent" but still powerful enough to cast spells and rituals in his name. I feel fairly confident in this theory. It's been scratching at the back of my brain for a few days so I just felt the need to say it. If you have any thoughts / evidence that could Prove/Disprove anything here lemme know.

#fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #rher

[autizmoeddiemunson]

Soft- part five

Steddie, little Steve, cg Eddie

Part four part six

Eddie checked his watch, 8pm. The doctor told him not to let Steve fall asleep until midnight. “Welp, four hours until you’re allowed to sleep, whatcha wanna do?” Eddie asked fondly.

They headed back upstairs and sat on the carpet. Eddie dumped out his backpack, it was full of books, art supplies, and various other trinkets & kits. They played add on for a bit on a sheet of paper, eventually creating a skeleton knight with a flaming sword battling monsters. They hung out and talked for hours. Not much in the backpack stuck out to Steve, except for one thing. He was shy to ask if he could see it but with how close he felt to him after these last few days, he figured he might as well just pick it up.

He picked up and examined a plush bat. It was mostly black & dark grey with a few details in red. “Ya’ like it?” Eddie asked when he saw him admiring it. The soft fabric felt wonderful in his fingers, he would hug the thing now if he weren’t being watched. He nodded and smiled, rubbing the fur against his cheek. “Wait, lemme see it.” Eddie asked. Steve handed him the plush and watched as he grabbed a box from the pile and turned away from him.

“Close your eyes and put out your hands!” Eddie said after a minute, turning a bit to see if he was, when he saw that he had done it he placed the bat into his hands. “Ok, open!” He said.

Steve didn't immediately notice the alteration, until he opened the bats right wing. Eddie had quickly stitched a heart with ‘S + E’ inside it in red thread. Steve’s heart swelled, an uncontrollable joy on his face. “Do you like it?” Eddie asked anxiously. Steve damn-near tackled him in a hug, bursting out in a fit of giggles when Eddie surprised him with a kiss.

“He’s amazing.” Steve panted out, absolutely gleaming. Eddie gladly returned it, delighted by the boy personifying the bat. “Not as amazing as you, angel.” He punctuated his sentence with a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He was absolutely infatuated with him, he wished this moment could go on forever.

Steve was getting softer as the time passed. Eddie watched Steve draw, laying on the carpet, while he did check-ins for him. “Where’s Steve?” Dustin asked over the radio. Eddie realized he had never told the group. “He has a concussion, I’m taking care of him until he’s better.” He hoped the smile wasn’t apparent in his voice. “How the hell did he get a concussion?!” Dustin yelled, immediately concerned. “Quiet down, he still can’t handle loud noises. It was a pancake disaster.” He said, like that wouldn’t just raise more questions. “How the hell did you- Eddie, just tell Steve I'm dropping by tomorrow, ok?” He sounded frustrated but it was understandable. “Alright, fine, but bring Robin. I have to talk to her.” He said. “Ok, goodnight and make sure Steve doesn’t die or I’ll kill you.” Eddie chuckled and shut it off, turning his attention to the boy on the floor.

Steve felt warm & calm, the fuzzy feeling intensified but he was ok with it, dare he say ‘happy?’ He was laying on his stomach, happily drawing, bat under his arm & shirt collar in his mouth. He felt childlike but had never been more relaxed. He looked up at the other boy with glittering doe eyes as Eddie’s watch beeped. “Midnight! You’re allowed to sleep!” Eddie chirped, sitting on the floor in front of him. “You ready for bed, sweet boy?” He asked, caressing his face.

He stared up at him softly, raising his arms up as a way to ask to be carried. He gladly scooped him up, cradling him to his chest. Steve tucked his head into the other’s neck as he carried him to bed. Eddie bounced him lightly, earning an angelic giggle from the boy. They crawled into bed, Steve sat in the other’s lap, looking at him expectantly.

“What do you want, baby?” Eddie asked, tucking a strand of hair behind the boy’s ear. “Read to me?” He asked. Eddie reached over and grabbed the copy of Lord of the Rings he was reading earlier. “What page were you on?” He asked, positioning the book in front of them. “Page 10 I think.” Steve said, getting comfy.

Eddie began reading, doing all the voices, of course. Steve was only half listening, instead reading the notes & admiring the art Eddie had made. He read him to sleep, kissed his forehead, and allowed him to rest. “Goodnight, sweet boy.”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #stranger things agere #fandom agere #stranger things fic #agere fic #little steve harrington #steve harrington age regression #cg eddie munson #caregiver eddie munson #eddie munson agere #🩺writes

[calmthefuckdownalright]

"A Fall From Grace" Self-Made Angel AU

A/N: I've had this in my head ever since the Origins SMP came out but I never knew what origin to give the reader. THEN I watched Afterlife SMP on Smajor1995's perspective in which he got the "Angel" Origin on his third (I think) death. I know it's not in the Origins SMP, but I wanted to be original and using the Witch origin was just too common. That and the work it's used in is phenomenal and I can't compete with it. SO! I picked the Angel origin from the Afterlife SMP instead and found it very fitting. I hope you enjoy 😊, it's very long just saying now.

Pairing: C!Phantombur x AngelOrigin!Fem!Reader

Genre: 🍃 angst?,🌷 fluff, 💐 spice {implied. Minors keep back}

AU: Angel (self created), Character plane, Origins SMP

TW: Minor violence and some intense flirting if you catch my drift. Cursing too. Minor mental breakdowns

Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Summary: There's a new Origin in town and the Potion Businessman Wilbur has his eye on a stunning prize. But beware, every rose has its thorns and this pretty flower might as well be a whole bush despite her "angelic" exterior.

Edit: my laptop shot crap on me and I don't have the financial stability or budget to get it fixed or a new one so I'm using my reading Kindle and it doesn't like to format texts...so just use your imagination. 👍

°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•

Welcome to the Origins SMP...you're life on Earth had ended and you have been chosen to join this elaborate group of hybrids. Here's your Origin.

🕊 Angel 🕊

Wings

Levitation

Weaker in other realms (Nether, End, etc.)

When you hit a monster it is set ablaze

Unable to weild a totem of undying

Like your Savior, you are able to walk and run upon water

Any and all debuffs via potions or spells are useless against you (enchantments not included)

Warning: Deviants of the Underworld have also been chosen to walk among you. Be safe.

✨✨A New Origin has Joined the World✨✨

The message was sent out across the entire plane. Every creature set and chosen for this version of Earth received it. Everyone knew you had arrived.

"Be safe. Deviants of the Underworld walk among you."

The warning changed in your head as you opened your eyes to the new world. You looked at your hands in awe at the power that radiated through your muscles. You stood and gazed at the landscape around you. A simple forest under a blue sky.

Something felt odd and you stretched out your arms feeling a tug on your back. You looked and a pair of the purest white feathered wings grew from your shoulder blades. They were stunning and as you stretched them you could hardly believe the length.

You tucked the beautiful wings to your back in fear of drawing attention to yourself in this new place.

'First things first...tools.' You thought and got to work with crafting and managing what little resources you could gather before nightfall. You weren't new to the dynamics of the New Earths. Yet you didn't quite know what you were doing. It was like an unstoppable instinct to just survive.

'Stone stone stone. Mountains would be ideal. I don't have stuff for light just yet and I have a feeling the caves won't be as friendly as the surface.' You debated in your head and began the search.

You managed to slay a few cows and pigs, even make a pair of leather boots to keep your bare feet protected.

The only thing covering your body was a robe. A rather thick one revealing nothing but highlighting the fact you were a woman at the same time.

Maybe a cloak of some kind could be on your priority list as well with the pending decision to seek shelter or get more suitable tools. Shelter seemed like a better option. Especially if these 'deviants' were the kind you thought.

[Time Skip to Nightfall]

You'd been walking for ages trying to find your way out of this stupid forest and night was beginning to fall just as you glimpsed an opening. A valley filled with buildings. One in particular rising above the rest into the sky.

You looked around yourself trying to decide whether or not to tough it out in the wilderness or take your chances on the lit up building.

"Might as well test these babies out." You muttered and stretched your wings.

You jumped off the edge of the hill where the forest lay and struck the feathered appendages down in an effort to lift yourself. It worked as the wind rushed under you and altitude climbed.

You smiled at yourself and flapped the great wings again and again till you were even with the ground of the floating island. You landed with a huff and tucked your already tired wings close to your back.

You could hear voices. Laughter and joyous cries of celebration. For what you couldn't tell. Maybe they were deviants that you'd been warned against. But even if they were, you could easily set them aflame with a single punch. You needed shelter. Suitable food and better clothes.

The wind had flung your thick robe and sent dirt cascading all along it. The white of the fabric was no longer that and rather filthy now.

"Take a chance. It can't be too bad." You said quietly and pushed against the door to the building in the sky. Glittering light poured in it stunned you for a moment. Brighter than the sunlight, or at least more concentrated, blinded you. The voices were continuous as you held the door open and stepped in. Your eyes adjusted rather quickly and you let the door close as you stepped into the place.

It smelled of ale and good spirits. Joy and the promise of laughter. The door slammed as the wind from outside sucked it in and the whole place stopped. Time seemed to freeze as your presence was suddenly acknowledged.

The first to notice you was a fellow winged person. A man dressed in a dark blue ish purple long coat with feathers protruding from his jawline. His wings were a darker grey and his hair a bright goldish blond. He seemed older as imperfections in his skin became more eminent as the light flickered under his dark grey and white striped hat. Crows feet by his eyes and lines etching under them. A light blond stubble etched along his chin and up to the dark feathers of his jaw.

"Well this one's new." A light hearted voice rang out amongst the silence. A smaller man, a boy even, with a pair of goggles on top his head and a fur lined bomber jacket leaned against a counter. Four translucent insect wings sprouted from his back and a black and yellow patch drew your attention to his sleeve where a extremely tall man in a simple suit and long purple tail coat stood beside him.

There was an aura about the tall man that unnerved you. His mismatched eyes and the crown that sat crooked on his head gave off an intimidating glow about him. Especially with the floating purple particles about him.

"Finally another girl!" A muffled voice next to you made you jump in your own skin. A fellow female stood in a tank of water, gills growing from her neck and flashes of pinkish scales reaching down her arms.

"I'm sorry?" A slightly annoying British voice jumped over the air and you spotted a small blonde man, again possibly a boy, with a red sleeved t-shirt and a small pair of red feathered wings, much too downy to be considered real ones, peeked over the head of the winged man who spotted you first.

"Who are you?" The dark winged man in the strange dark attire asked cautiously bit with a light smile.

"Clearly she's the new Origin we heard of a little bit ago." A voice came out of nowhere, behind you, and a shot of adrenaline flashed through your veins as you whirled around and summoned the iron sword you had been able to craft with what little you'd been able to find.

The tip aimed straight towards a partly transparent man's throat. His skin was deathly gray and two bright green eyes shone under the shade of a mess of soft looking brown hair.

Your wings flared out defensively causing wind to fly up with them and send a drink or two crashing to the floor. Fear ran through your blood. The man before you had his arms raised in a mock surrender. His yellow sweater was even transparent, torn and weathered in places to just barely reveal a white undershirt. A white collar poked over the edge of the sweater at his neck.

"Wilbur! What have I said about sneaking up on people?" The older man's voice was stern at the ghostly figure.

"Right right, don't. Yeah I've heard it before Phil. Don't get your feathers in a bunch." The ghost, or Wilbur it seemed, leaned to one side and used a finger to push your sword point down as he outstretched a translucent hand with a sort of halfway bow.

"Wilbur S. Phantom." He said cooly as if he hadn't just scared the shit out of you.

You ignored his hand and began to lower your wings and sword as you looked around.

The tall man in the suit had jumped over the counter and was crouched down behind it while the short boyish one with the translucent wings had begun to sort if float to the roof of the establishment.

"Wil you're just scaring her more." The man with wings, Phil, came over and straightened Wilbur up and pulled him aside.

"Hello, I'm sorry for my son's behavior. I'm Philza Elytrian. This is the Pub." The man with the dark wings said kindly with meaningful smile and an outstretched hand. You sheathed your sword and tucked your wings tightly in again.

"Y/N Angel." You said and glanced over all the other hybrid mutants before you.

"I'm Nikki Merling!" The muffled voice behind the glass said excitedly. Her voice was soft and welcoming now that you fully heard it.

"Hi.." You responded, A smile twitching in the corners of your mouth.

"Of course you've met Wilbur. He's a Phantom and tends to abuse his abilities to phase through walls. He's our Potions guy since he can gather ingredients undetected. And my son." Phil began to introduce everyone individually starting with a very sparkly man with stars for limbs it seemed.

"Scott Starborne. He's basically a God so mind not to piss him off or he might explode you."

"Jack Manifold Blazeborne. Immune to heat and a native to the Nether."

"This is Tommy Avian. He's my youngest son and my apprentice since his wings have still not fully grown in." Tommy shook your hand and the downy red wings on his back attempted to stretch out but it only made them curl back tighter. "We think something went wrong with his genetic make-up." Phil whispered to you.

You nodded and smiled at the Avian briefly before meeting the rest of the crew.

"Tubbo Bumblebee. Can float around, poison in his fingers, and is sort of like a flourist around here."

"This is Ranboo Enderian. Enderman abilities combined with his abnormally natural height. He's a good guy to have in your corner."

"Jschlatt Arachnid though most call him-"

"The Fragrance Man. Pleasure to meet you Angel." The Fragrance Man bowed with a smile and the pungent smell of him hit you like a train.

"Please don't call me that." You said with a cringe.

"Moving on," Philza said quickly and lead you to a seemingly empty corner. Then you looked down.

"That's Charlie Slimecician, he's basically a slime but half human. He gets small after a few hits." A blobby green figure stood at the height of you ankles and waved.

"And that's Sneegsnag Inchling. We just call him Sneeg. He's super small and likes to climb on people so watch out if you ever go to fly. You might have a hitchhiker."

"It was one time Phil. Get over it!" Sneeg called up to the much taller Elytrian. No doubt having experienced this 'hitchhiking.'

"Fundy and Technoblade aren't here right now but Fundy's basically just a fox and Techno looks like a pig but was given the Rabbit Origin. You'll know them when you see em." Philza turned back to you and you looked around again.

"Do you maybe have anything for clothing? I don't think this thing is going to last with my flying." You asked sheepishly and gestured to the already tattering robe.

"Ummm..." Phil's face flushed slightly and he glanced around. "Maybe Nikki does? She's more you're speed." He led you to the tank with the Merling. Nikki smiled and nodded.

"It's been so long since another girl was around!" She smiled widely.

Maybe this new plane of existence wasnt going to be so dangerous after all...

[Time Skip to a few Days Later]

Since meeting the Origins you hadn't had much going on. Nikki helped you with clothes, lending you several pairs of leather pants and a few linen shirts that fit fairly well. She never wore them because they weren't waterproof and mostly used them when it rained and she wanted to go walking. Which was hardly ever.

Rain wasnt 'rare' in the valley of The Pub (which you later learned had been renamed The Pube with a 'silent' e by one Wilbur S. Phantom.) But she hadn't wanted to go walking ever. The rain was so exciting that she never thought about it.

"So have you thought of where to build your house?" Nikki asked, her head bobbing in and out of the water cautiously.

"No not really. I found a cave up in the mountains but it's a bit far. Thinking about building right here by the lake but my neighbors aren't very appealing." You grimaced as you spotted the Phantom of the land. He was sitting under a tree with a brewing stand beside him and a book and quill in his hands. His translucent body sent a shiver up your spine as you redirected your attention back to your friend in the water.

"Wil really isn't that bad. He's just a flirty dumbass. He's quite nice really." Nikki assured you and traced shaped in the dampened grass by your boots. Your feet rested in the cool water of the lake with your leather pants rolled up halfway to your knees as the water ran over the bare skin.

"He's still creepy." You said and stretched out your wings as the sun warmed the white feathers.

"It's just cause he's a ghost. I'm telling you, he's nice." Nikki insisted. Her voice was sorrowful as she mentioned the word 'ghost.'

"How is he even Phil's son? He doesn't even have wings." You asked and began to run your fingers down the soft feathers of your wings.

"Well...that's more something to ask him really. It's not my story to tell." Nikki said and ducked under the water, leaving you impromptu to regain her ability to breathe.

"Alright then..." You sighed. Your curiosity tugged at your gut and a bold motive pumped through your heart. While Nikki composed herself you might as well start branching out. Its not like you can stay friends with one person forever.

You huffed and grabbed your boots and started walking across the grass towards the phantom man.

"Well hello. Come to tell me I'm creepy to my face?" Wilbur asked with a sly smile as you approached, not bothering to look up.

"You heard us?" You asked, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.

"No, I read lips." Wilbur said and looked up at you at last. The green of his eyes were stunning without the rushes of adrenaline finding them dangerous. He'd been sneaking up on you for the past few days, earning multiple swords swung at his head. All of them careful not to actually cut the poor man.

"Hmph. Well I actually came over to say I'm sorry for swinging blades at you and ask you a question but since you're clearly busy I'll leave you be." You said and started to walk off.

"Wait!" Wilbur shot to his feet and reached for your arm as you walked into the sunlight. Flames erupted on his skin and began to consume him.

"SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCKER SHIT!" Wilbur exclaimed and leapt into the lake with a surprisingly graceful dive. Steam billowed off the water's surface as you turned around at the noise.

"Wilbur?" You asked to the air. The smell of smoke tinged your nose. "Oh shit you're a phantom!" The realization hit you.

"Yeah no shit." He said as his head resurfaced, water dripping from the brown mess on his head and down his face. "I was just trying to stop you, Jesus Christ." He muttered and climbed out the water, shaking out his head as the shade of a tree cast over him, preventing him from burning again.

"Why?" You asked with a desire to laugh. How could he forget he burned in daylight so easy?

"Because, like you, I'm a curious nobody who wants to know things. So what-" Wilbur paused as he spotted your face. "Are you...are you laughing at me?" He said with a darkening tone.

"Maybe a little." You snickered. Your wings trailed the ground and twitched with amusement.

"Oh hush it you sunloving bitch! I didn't exactly ask for it." Wilbur held a smile of his own back at your childish attempts to not mock him.

"So sorry Danny Phantom, I just think the fact you don't even understand your own abilities is quite hilarious." You sniffed back a laugh and wiped your eyes.

"You're one to talk. You can hardly fly properly." Wilbur shot back, a conniving smile playing his translucent lips, his arms crossing over his chest.

"And what would you know about flying?" You set your hands on your hips, flaring your snowy white wings out slightly as the sun basked over your features.

"Enough to know you flap too hard and too often. Enough to know you should let the wind carry you rather than your own feathers or you'll tire the muscles out before you can ever find a decent landing spot." Wilbur leaned against the oak tree causing his shade.

You fumed as you recalled the many landings you'd had to take. The aching of your wings every night when you went to sleep.

"Yeah? And how do you know this?" You crossed your arms.

"Because, Angel Darling, I used to fly." Wilbur pushed off the tree and snapped his fingers as he walked to the edge of the shade. Just where the border of the sunlight stopped.

With the snap of his fingers a pair of mangled and tattered wings the color of Phil's feathers protruded from the Phantom's back. Bones stuck out of the tips and a bat like skin had been stretched over the limbs, bone poking through at odd angles.

"They don't work anymore sadly, but they were beautiful back in my prime. Now they're just a decoration that gets caught on branches." Wilbur ran a ghostly hand down one of the wings, its stillness bothered you. Usually wings would twitch or flex at the touch of rather anything. Even Tommy's faulty wings stretched or curled each time a branch or shoulder grazed them.

"Wilbur, I'm sorry." You said after a moment of marveling at the damage. "What happened?" You asked cautiously, reaching out a hand into his shade.

Wilbur quickly made the wings disappear with a roll of his shoulders.

"Wouldn't you like to know. Only Phil and Tommy are allowed to know my 'tragedy', as people call it. Family only, if you understand." Wilbur smirked and ran a hand through his brown hair.

"Anyone else who knows has sworn to never tell a soul and anyone who does say will be severely punished." Wilbur growled and your hand retreated. If he wanted to be a prick when you were only wanting an answer then fine. Two can play that game.

"Awww, is the little Potions master embarrassed of his fall from grace?" You mocked with a glare. "A simple 'A bad accident' would've sufficed asshole." You flared your wings to leap off. Wilbur's eyes darkened as a scowl etched his translucent features.

"You're pretty prickly yourself for such a pretty Angel." Wilbur sneered.

"Whoever said all Angels were nice Ghost Boy?" You snarled and beat your wings and leapt into the sky sending wind blowing the leaves of the tree he sheltered under askew and releasing the sunlight upon him once more. You beat your wings proudly as you flew off listening to the string of curses flowing from the burned ghost's lips behind you.

[Several Days Later]

You hadn't run into Wilbur again since you burned him. You'd spent the last few days gathering wood from various trees and taking flying lessons from Phil who's wingspan was similar to your own. Yours being slightly larger "due to your youth." As Phil told you.

It was going wonderfully. You'd been able to gather enough iron to make yourself a chestplate with the guidance of Jack who knew a thing or two about molten stuff. You paid him in a few nuggets of gold and a new flint and steel, should he get trapped in his homeland ever.

Nikki had helped you start building by the lake, on the exact opposite side of Wilbur, and even connected her little underwater cavern to a tank in your house.

Not only had you not run into the ghostly man, but you hadn't even seen the translucent nuisance. It was unnervingly quiet at the lake and maybe he just stopped going out in the day. He did catch fire at even the smallest ray of sunlight so it wouldn't entirely surprise you that the man was keeping to the covers of night.

Tonight however, so we're you. You needed bones for bone meal for your farm so you could feed your cows and make some bread for yourself.

The moon was full and fog had rolled in on the valley of The Pub. You had gone far away from where the lights of the settlements glowed and only had the light of the moon to guide your feet as you listened for the rattling of bones or the string of a bow being stretched.

Courtesy of The Fragrance Man, you wielded a diamond sword. You'd crafted it yourself but the enchantments laid on its blade were all the Arachnid's doing.

Heat radiated off the sword and a glimmer of a protective shield was cast over the diamond weapon. It was supposed to set fire to anything it touched, much like your own fists could with a punch, and it was spelled to be practically unbreakable. In exchange for a favor in the future, the sword was all yours for as long as you wanted it.

The Fragrance Man had denied calling you by your name and still settled for just calling you 'Angel.' The man was a priest, sort of, so you didn't really worry too much about it. He might be creepy but you could set fire to anything you punched. That made you dangerous and him susceptible to your attacks if he crossed the line.

So, with your new sword and chest plate, you set off into the night in search of the undead. You had succeeded as a rattle echoed off in the distance and you shot towards it in a flurry of quick jabs and slices while ducking from arrows. It wasn't long before the skeletons fell and you could collect their cargo.

With a few skeletons gone you decided to head back to your home by the lake. Then the screams of frustration reached you. You were slightly conflicted to help.

The only people crazy enough to get cornered by a horde weren't ones you necessarily liked. But you had time and a weapon fully capable of helping. Not to mention some badass wings to knock a few skulls around with.

"Fine fine. Let's go be a hero I guess." You muttered and leaped into the air with a blow of your wings. You soared high above the fading fog as you got closer to the end of the valley and peered down to the ground with the little light you could use from the moon. You couldn't hardly see the figure surrounded by the monsters but you could hear them.

"You idiotic assholes just get back! Where the fucking Hell are you all coming from?!" The frustrated voice screamed into the night. You smelled bread and spotted a helmet of iron as you swooped down cautiously.

"Phil?" The helmet looked up as your winged shadow cast over them from the moonlight. That's when you realized who you were saving.

"Far from it Ghost Boy." You glared and dived down with your sword swinging flames upon the monsters of the night. "I'm better."

Wilbur scoffed and straightened his helmet and fought the deviants of the night at your back, skillfully ducking under your wings as you threw monsters away where your sword could not reach.

Wilbur's silence as he fought with his own weapon, an iron sword with more than a few cracks, was amazing. Not so much as a grunt escaped him as he swung with effortless movements. Before long dawn was rising and the sky helped vanquish the horde.

Wilbur was quick to send himself invisible once the sun rose though you could still see him due to the helmet on his head and the bread vanishing down what must have been his mouth.

You acted out of mercy and drew your wings over his back and head as the sun climbed up the sky. "Relax Mr. Invisible. You've been through enough tonight." You muttered as he flinched under your shading feathers.

"And what's with the change of heart? Deciding to be a good girl for once?" Wilbur teased with a menacing smile as he changed back to his translucent form.

"I don't know, would you like to burn all the way home?" You narrowed your eyes with a challenge. Wilbur stuffed the last bit of bread in his mouth in a silent no.

The two of you walked in silence back to the lake, you lowering your wings as you opted for a forest edge as soon as one was available. Wilbur 'ghosted' from tree shade to tree shade while you stayed in the sunlight of the valley. When the Pub's settlements were close enough Wilbur stopped, stopping you with him out of quiet surprise.

"Why did you help me?" He asked suddenly.

"Why shouldn't I have?" You countered.

"Whatever happened to 'Not all Angels are nice.'?"

"Never said I wasn't. You'd just pissed me off."

"Because I didn't answer your question?" Wilbur scoffed with a slight of sarcasm.

"Because you were an ass about it. I get it, I'm new. I don't know anything about anyone. Especially you. Especially when you avoid and dodge every attempt I make at getting to know you or being an ass about it and starting an argument." You crossed your arms and tucked in your wings frustratedly.

"It's called flirting, Darling Angel." Wilbur leaned against a tree and removed his helmet to allow a plethora of brown curly hair to fall across his emerald eyes.

"You suck at it Wilbur Soot." You snickered and slipped under a tree yourself as the sun beat down in an unrelenting heat. "And please don't call me Angel. The Fragrance Man does that enough as it is." You huffed with an easy smile.

"Schlatt? Seriously? That's who you're worried about? I can literally phase through walls undetected. I could've been following you all these days watching you bathe or something." Wilbur snickered.

"That's perverted Wilbur." You screwed up your face and suddenly felt very self conscious.

"I said I could. But I would never because you're right. That is perverted and I'm not an abuser of my abilities much to you and my father's beliefs." Wilbur insisted "Believe it or not I'm a rather good gentleman." Wilbur said with a joking smile. You snickered quietly.

"Right right. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and say I believe you. I don't think I'll ever feel comfortable on my own again, thanks Wil." You say with a snap of venom. What would one of your conversations be without a little poison.

"There's no wall you can hide behind, Y/N. I can forever find you." Wilbur's voice echoed like it wasnt actually there. You stared at him but his lips didn't move to match the words you heard.

"What?" You asked, placing a hand on your belt where the sword sheath and sword from The Fragrance Man was attached.

"I said, that wasn't my intentions. I said I was sorry." Wilbur phased his way through the narrow chain of sunlight between the two trees you stood under and was soon placing a chilled hand on your forehead much to your very notable surprise. "Are you alright Ang- Y/N? You're sweating like Ranboo in a storm." Wilbur joked with a smile, quickly correcting himself from the uncanny nickname.

What was he always smiling for? He was a ghost with a supposedly 'tragic' demise. He was dead. He was regarded with caution anywhere he went. His potions business was a scam and a half and his cheeky comments and demeanour had no doubt gotten him into many instances of making enemies. What did this man have to smile about so often for?

"I have family and friends, Y/N. That's why I smile. I'm dead but I can still be with them and they know I am." Wilbur answered. You hadn't realized you'd said the first of your thought out loud. Or that you were sitting now. The heat from the sun on your iron chest plate was suffocating. Not to mention it was tight inside of it from moving as much while fighting through the night and hardly any at all during the walk. Your wings dropped to the ground and for once they felt like the heaviest things on this plane of existence.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Wilbur's voice was edging on concern. His hands were freezing on your overheating skin. Skin. Where was he touching you? You squeezed your eyes shut and concentrated. Your hand was under one of his, and his other was holding your face as sweat seeped from your boiling skin.

"The chestplate." You huffed and pulled at the collar of it reaching frantically for the leather straps holding to your body on your sides. Your, now shaking, fingers fumbled with the leather on one side. By the time you'd gotten one undone Wilbur had managed to get the two on the other side. He quickly undid the last strap and the chest plate was heaved off your shoulders by Wilbur, careful not to crush your wings.

"Better?" He asked, his hand still resting on your hand. Grasping it even.

You nodded and flipped your palm to grip his. "Just give me a second and I'll be fine." You huffed and closed your eyes tightly. Breathing in and out and focusing on the coolness of Wilbur's hand.

The heat calmed in your skin until the sweating stopped. You opened your eyes after a moment or two to see Wilbur staring at you with those vibrant eyes.

"What? Have I got a cut?" You asked and reached your free hand to your face. Before you could check yourself Wilbur was holding up your connected hands. That's when you realized.

"Oh shit I'm so-" you started to unravel your fingers from his in a rush. Your wings flared as cold spread through your still heated face. A softness enveloped your lips as you gathered what was happening.

Wilbur's eyes were shut as his face pressed to yours. It was an odd feeling, being kissed by a ghost.

You eventually just shut your eyes too, embracing the action with the little hesitation, pressing back to the cold lips. Wilbur's hand tightened on yours and his other translucent limb reached to your wings, caressing the feathers softly and causing a shudder up your spine.

Wilbur let you breathe for a moment from his impromptu kiss before removing his hand from yours in the grass and lifting your chin to fully face him.

"Is this okay with you?" He asked, his voice shaky and unknowing. Surprisingly something inside you lit up at the question. He'd caught you off gaurd in a vulnerable state from the overheating. Managed to cool you down and was still asking if you were okay.

"Yeah..." You breathed and Wilbur leaned over your body against the tree, trailing a cold ghostly hand up your white wings earning a small gasp before gently reconnecting your lips. He was curious as his hand explored the feathers, each small movement making them twitch and relax under his translucent fingers.

Each flinch of your feathers parted your mouth a little at a time before it was too tempting to explore. Wilbur's tongue was so cold it was like having an ice cube numb your mouth. It was...different. You hadn't kissed anyone since coming into this world and this was one Hell of a first.

Wilbur's hand on your chin trailed up your jawline and reached into your hair, massaging and playing with your scalp and causing an intense cold to spread over you and numb your senses almost completely. His hand on your wings traveled closer to your back where the skin and downy feathers met your shoulder blades. The holes you'd cut into your linen shirts had been a tad big but it just made it easier to fly.

"Wilbur, what're you doing?" You breathed out as he drew away for you to breathe. He didn't need to being dead and all.

"I-" He looked into your hooded eyes and his hand drew away from your back, the one exploring your hair stopping its soft movements. There was a rustling behind him and before either of you could react someone burst through the bushes.

"Jesus mother of Christ foliage is thick as fuck." Tommy's bright accent busted the tension between you and Wilbur and neither of you could move as the small winged man spotted you. You sat with your back to a tree and Wilbur, Tommy's older brother, hovering over you incredibly close with your chest plate thrown aside.

"Tommy! It's not was it looks-" Wilbur started to rush out and leapt to his feet to reach his brother who was frozen in place.

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" The Avian yelled out and both you and Wilbur flinched.

"Y/N that's my fucking brother what the fuck?! Nikki's been lookin for you and you're out here catching the birds and the bees with my-" Tommy started into a compulsive and loud rant before Wilbur phased under the sunlight and placed an invisible hand over his mouth, reducing it to muffled yells. Tommy pulled away with a disgusted tone of voice.

"Don't fucking touch my face you fucker, I don't know where those hands have been." Tommy gagged at the thought and your face turned a fiery red, the heat returning but this time manageable against your slightly numb skin where Wilbur had touched and kissed you.

"Tommy I swear, I just got overheated and he helped me get the chest plate off that's all!" You rushed to help explain. You couldn't see Wilbur or feel his presence. Did that asshole just leave you to deal with his slightly traumatized brother?!

The anger you'd previously held over and dissipated for the ghostly businessmen returned in full force.

"That-" Tommy started but you cut him off in a stern voice, one built up with anger at Wilbur. Anger that kept rising. After what he'd just done the guy was just gonna skip out on you because someone caught him doing something embarrassing?!

"Tommy just shut it. He helped me get a chestplate off after I got too hot. That's it and for you to think otherwise is foolish. Your brother and me aren't even friends." You spat and went to go retrieve your armor piece.

Tommy stayed silent as you stood straight up and took a deep breath. A chill went through your chest as you felt a pair of eyes watching. These not the unbelieving ones of Tommy, but ones of hurt and slight hatred that couldn't be seen.

'Stop it Wilbur. You know it can't happen.' You shot towards the ripple of light as grass swished under invisible feet. It was a mistake helping him as much as you did. A mistake letting him kiss you.

At the end of the day he was just a flirty asshole who couldn't help but only think of himself. He was a scammer. A coward. The exact opposite of what you would ever want. A businessman of zero shame.

"Do you want a fly home?" You turned back to Tommy with a flare of your large wings.

"No. No I'm out looking for sugarcane." He said, his eyes still slightly in shock at what he had witnessed.

"Right then. Tell Phil I said hi." You muttered and shouldered past the small boy, careful not to hit him with your wings and you reached a sunny clearing in the trees. You waited till Tommy had walked away into the forest before you wrapped yourself in your wings and let a few hot tears run down your freezing cheeks.

"stupid stupid stupid." You heaved out over a choked sob. You could feel his presence lingering around you. Wilbur was still around. Still watching you as you broke down. You were an idiot for believing he could actually be nice.

"Get over it now, Y/N. He's the worst deviant you'll run across." You utter loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. 'Anyone' being Wilbur. You heard a branch crack and a bush shift as something unseen walked into it. Then you spread your wings and leapt into the sky, careful not to beat too hard and exhaust your energy too soon.

"Wait!" You heard him below you. You could see his ghostly figure clearly in your mind reaching out to the sky though he would surely be invisible from the sunlight.

You soared up above the clouds and let the tears rain down freely. What the Hell was wrong with you?! The guy had been nothing but a creep since your first day here and you just let him kiss you! Let him touch your wings like they were his own. God you felt so stupid. And poor Tommy, he had to see it. Or the end of it at least.

Your mind slowly began to thaw from Wilbur's icy touch. That must've been what caused your submission. The cold that emanated from even the slightly touch from him. Hell knowing him he probably did it on purpose.

Figured out from eavesdropping on you telling Nikki you'd be going out tonight. He probably got himself cornered by monsters on his own and lured you there knowing you'd help. Then he'd get you alone in the forest and take advantage of you with the numbing of the cold he inflicted.

It made your blood boil deep in your chest at the thought. Wilbur Soot would pay for his intentions. Good or not he left you to deal with HIS family. The one he claimed was the reason he could still smile after everything that happened to him.

Curse to his handsome face. To his soft skin. His beautiful and dorky smile. Curse to his swagger in every word. That accent that could make the coldest heart melt. The charm woven into that silver tongue of his. That tongue. To Hell with that tongue.

{LET THE WARS BEGIN}

🕊💀🕊💀🕊💀 [Time Summary of Several Months]🕊💀🕊💀🕊💀

Catalog of the Burning Wars, written by Philza Elytrian

The first attack: Y/N Angel set fire to the trees surrounding Wilbur S. Phantom's home removing all shade from his land for several blocks. She has also drained his side of the lake with the permission of Nikki Merling in agreement to link the lake to a river system going all across the lands of The Pub.

The retaliation: Wilbur S. Soot in retaliation destroyed an upcoming crop field in the process of growing from Y/N Angel.

The Declaration of War: Y/N Angel announced at The Pub on August 9th that Wilbur Soot Phantom was now her enemy and anyone who got in her way of 'making that piece of shit' pay would be as well.

The Accused: As claimed by Wilbur, he hadn't heard of her declaration of war. Merely assuming that the burning and draining of his land was a minor upsetting and his retaliation was to be the end of their feud. He has since not discussed any details of the newly declared war.

The Attacker: Y/N Angel has only disclosed that Wilbur has shamed her in an unforgivable way. She claims her takes on friendship with the Potions Businessman had been rebuked with a key try in taking advantage of her new presence to this world. Y/N has quoted

"Wilbur Soot might be a gentleman to his friends, but to me he is merely a fiend and a deviant that has wronged me in more ways than one. I will no longer tolerate his creeping of my person or the advances he seems to wish to make."

Over the course of the ongoing war, now named The Burning War after the intense use of fire from both sides, multiple scrimmages between the two parties have occurred. All of which taking place in a forest or plain far from the Pub as both parties have agreed;

"Our fighting is amongst the two of us and no one else should pay for our anger towards each other."

Signed,

Philza Elytrian, Scribe of The Burning Wars 💀🕊💀🕊💀🕊[End of Time Summary]💀🕊💀🕊💀🕊

It'd been months. Nearly a year since you declared war on Wilbur and he was no closer to admitting he had done wrong. Over the many negotiations held between the two of you nothing came of it.

Wilbur merely yelled he didn't know what he'd done and therefore had nothing to apologize for. You being the stubborn woman you were, time and time again explained it to him. How he left you to take care of his problems. Their problems. How he vanished on you the second things got a little uncomfortable then tried to play it off like you were the one at fault for it.

You hadn't shared your theory on his intentions that day. His theoried plan you had formed on the fly back home.

How could you? You weren't dumb, you knew it was only an assumption your angered mind had formed. Knew that if you said it and it was false your shame would kill you. Yet you couldn't think of another way to tell him you thought he was a creep when the only 'proof' you had of this claim was that he scared you every once in a while from passing through a wall to jumpscare you.

And now you were back here. In the Pub. Your neutral ground. You'd told Phil, the common ground and mediator between the two of you and Wilbur. As usual Phil told everyone to avoid the place but you knew they were closeby. Sneeg would be hiding behind the bottles of alcohol stacked on a shelf or Tommy perched on top the Pub with Tubbo. Ranboo maybe if he could get a pearl high enough. Jack might be hiding in his little lava hole listening in on rare occasion.

This didn't stop you from trying to negotiate with Wilbur in terms of ending this war. You didn't even know what you wanted from him. A surrender and an apology seemed like the best solution but you knew deep down it wouldn't be enough. He would continually piss you off on purpose. He would dig at you till you cracked and sent an arrow flying at his head or a wing swinging straight into his translucent chest.

Much to your delight, Wilbur was solid as a rock when not in his phantom state. Anything could hurt him just as it could a regular human. You didn't want to kill the man no. You were angry but not that angry. No matter what you did you couldn't wipe that smug smile off his face every time he riled you up.

You clenched your fist now as he walked in. For once he used the doors of The Pub. You sat at a table with your wings brought high up and tucked in tight. The dumbass was eating an apple and each step he took closer to you highlighted a new accessory to his outfit.

A slim fitting tail coat the color of the darkest blue fit snuggly over a blue and lime striped vest and reached down a pair of equally dark blue slacks with a perfect crease down the middle. He wore a circular pair of glasses slightly tinted over his stunning green eyes. Bone shaped clasps reached across the seam of his vest and black slick shoes rested and tapped the wood floor on his fading feet. His hair was combed out but as unruly as ever as it curled over one of his eyes slightly.

He took a large bite of his apple, never breaking eye contact with you as he pulled out the chair across from you, then threw it in your direction. To which you caught it.

"Y'know I had a great deal comin' up for today. Schlatt was gonna buy my whole stock for ten stacks of gold blocks and a half a stack of diamonds. Technoblade would've gladly taken the gold and traded me a stack of diamonds or even some Netherite ingots for each block." The man leaned back and set his ghostly fading feet on the wooden table.

"Your stock is just potions of leaping and some fire res mixed in wth exactly two potions of regeneration." You pointed out. "You and Ranboo literally had to scam Tommy into drinking one you were so much of a failure."

"Yet who's wearing the tailored suit here?" Wilbur examined his fingers before turning back to you with a smug grin.

You scowled at him, debating your response. "The coward and the joke of this negotiation." You spat after a second of letting him think he won. At your words, Wilbur's smile twitched and he swiftly swung his lanky legs off the table and leaned forward, his hands grasped together under his chest as his face reached near the middle of the table.

"And what have I done right or wrong now to deserve such a merciful meeting Angel Darling?" The man said with a venom of sarcasm escaping his silver tongue. Your blood began to boil.

"Absolutely nothing. You don't deserve my mercy Wilbur Soot but here I am offering it." You leaned towards him as well letting your wings cast a shadow over the two of you from one of the lanterns above.

"I don't even know what I could've done wrong to even need your 'mercy.'" Wilbur said and those green eyes of his darted across your face.

"For starters you burnt down my wheat field." You said.

"You burnt my trees. And drained the water from my land." He countered.

"You were a prick and I wasn't going to deal with it any longer." You spat back.

"And how could I have offended you so badly that it warranted so much ash on my land?" He asked, knowing full well your answer.

"Tommy. That day in the forest. You GHOSTED me Wilbur!" You stood from your chair with a bang of your fist. You were tired of repeating this story. "You let me deal with a problem that was OURS by myself with someone who YOU knew how to handle! The boy still doesn't look at me correctly Wil! He thinks I'm some manipulate bitch who tried to get with his brother and cover up for it!" You yelled. This one was new. You hadn't told Wilbur about Tommy being reclusive around you. How he never met your eyes or returned your greetings. How the boy would simply just turn away from you and run or pretend he was busy.

"Angel-" Wilbur was on his feet now and standing before you with a pleading look. The nickname sent you spiraling till that final cord of restraint snapped.

"That's NOT MY FUCKING NAME!" You yelled and grabbed the man by his suit and burst the two of you to the balcony of The Pub. With a single arm you held Wilbur's writhing body over the edge. You'd learnt to organize your negotiations meeting at sunset or dusk in case something like this happened. Which it usually did but never at this magnitude. You'd never lost control like this.

Your wings were flared and tensed, your arm, stiff, at Wilbur's neck as you held him dangling over the edge from a VERY dangerous height. He choked as you tightened your grip. (Which was odd considering he didn't need air to breathe...)

You flinched at his noise. He didn't breathe air. You were actually causing damage. Possibly permanent if you didn't let go. So you stumbled back and released him on the wood of The Pub. You fell onto the ground and quickly cocooned yourself inside your own wings and held you head as the terror of permanently hurting someone sunk in. Hurting Wilbur.

All of this. This war. It was pointless. It was just YOUR anger. You were the only one angry in this battle. Wilbur hadn't DONE anything. Just being a prick but nothing worth lashing out the way you had. Tears streamed down your face and sobs wrecked your throat as you realized the purpose of this war.

The dumbass had stolen your heart. He'd charmed his way into it with each negotiation. Each smug remark and sly smile. Every wink and quip that would've made you roll over laughing had you not been so angry. This frustration you'd felt with every interaction with the ghostly man wasn't out of anger or rage from him dumping you with Tommy, though you were still pretty mad about that. It was from the fact you couldn't help but smile at his words after you were done fighting and you were alone. How you dreamt of being on peaceful terms and enjoying his company more than hating it.

Good God....you were in love with him. Obsessed with him even. He haunted your dreams in a way you didn't know anyone could. His words rang in your head with every movement of your body.

'It's called flirting, Darling Angel.'

'Y/N? What's wrong?'

Every small interaction when you hadn't been fighting was some of your favorite memories. God you'd messed everything up. He probably hated you. No. It was definite he did. You nearly just dropped him off a floating island over a small quarrel that could've been solved from maybe a small amount of yelling and an apology.

Something touched you. Something freezing cold but welcoming with the gentleness of its caress. Your feathers twitched involuntarily under that icy glance of contact. They relaxed and your body betrayed your want to be alone as one of your wings relaxed and allowed itself to be moved enough for Wilbur to poke his translucent body into your feathery cage.

You accustomed your 'cage' to shelter both of you as you wiped your face. The tears of knowing the man you possibly loved would surely hate you.

Wilbur had removed his glasses and coat. A long white sleeved collared shirt ran down his arms though the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows exposing the pale ish grey of his arms. And the scars. God the amount of scars on his arms was frightening but you could hardly react as more tears, hot with embarrassment, flooded your vision.

"Y/N...I'm sorry for what I did to hurt you. God I never thought it would go this far." Wilbur's gentle voice was like a melody to your ears. Euphoric and angelic. The apology soothed your anger enough for you to finally be able to focus on composing yourself.

"Wilbur I'm sorry as well. I shouldn't have-" You started but felt a chill run down you as something cold was once again your tear stained lips.

Wilbur. Wilbur was that 'something' and it was a blessing. You didn't waste anytime returning the favor. His tongue was quicker to break past your defenses and soon it was numb again inside your mouth. Just like it was that day in the woods, except this time no one would interrupt you and anyone watching or listening wouldn't have a single thing as your wings hid the two of you from the world. Wilbur pulled away and cast a gentle touch up your face till he was cupping your cheek.

"Y/N, I never want you to apologize to me again. I did this. I caused you to lash out because I wanted your attention. I wanted you to look at me like you do Nikki. But more. I wanted to be more than your friend and I started my goal the only way I knew how. Provoking you until I was your main focus." Wilbur panted as he looked into your eyes. Those green irises practically glowing under the amount of emotion swimming in them.

"I can only pray that you forgive me. Forgive me for every wrong I've done and let me fix it. Allow me to make it up to you." He begged with a crack of his voice and you couldn't help but smile.

"Wilbur Soot...you are the single most aggravating man I've ever had the luck of meeting." You said through tears and pulled his collar towards you and kissed him hard.

This time you were going to surprise him. As soon as you felt his mouth part you sent in your tongue against his.

A gasp from him into your mouth sent your head reeling as you tugged at his vest and his hands ran through your hair.

The chill exploded a new kind of warmth through you and you smiled against the lips of the coldest man you knew.

"Angel, I love you." Wilbur said as you broke the kiss for a breath of air.

"I love you too Ghost Boy." You panted out and smiled as he kissed you again. Not the kind of comfort as before. But the one of a man who missed you. You. Not his enemy on the battlefield but you. The angel crying before the ghost. The kiss lingered and you felt something change.

You grabbed Wilbur's hands and lead him to the ledge you'd nearly dropped him off of before jumping with him before he had a chance to even register what was happening. With a smile you pulled him close with a kiss of your own and stretched your wings out, letting the wind lift you up and soar the two of you to a forest. The one where all your battles were waged.

And the one where the final negotiation of surrender would end without anyone to see the declaration of The Burning Wars coming to a close and you finally opening to Wilbur S. Phantom in more ways than one and him doing the same.

{Epilogue}

A few years passed and Wilbur had finally answered all your questions about him. His accident that cost him his wings and everything you might need to know about phantoms. His favorite food happened to be bread since it was easy and very relaxing to make on days he wasn't busy getting potion ingredients.

Which he also changed up. You become his partner at the Potion shop which was quickly renamed Fallen Angel Potions after the fact of Wilbur's accident and your origin.

The Fragrance Man was returned his sword after it was cut down to very poor conditions seeing as he was officially top of your creep list and owing him a favor was not on your bucket list.

It was nice. Blissful having Wilbur by your side. It was a marvel that the two of you had ever fought considered how close you were now. The old battlefield had flourished and was now overgrown save for a small patch in the middle which had been flattened by multiple rendezvous after work or just in your free time with Wilbur.

His trees were replanted and the lake basically turned into a whole wheat field around the trees of his dark 'mansion' and your birch cottage.

After a while, Philza Elytrian earned a daughter-in-law and Tommy Avian grew out his wings large enough to be able to glide into the ceremony as Wilbur's best man. Peace at last.

"I love you Angel."

"I love you too Ghost Boy."

°~•°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°~•

Ho. Ly. SHIT. This is the single longest one shot I've ever done on any platform and on any account. It got so cringe in the ending I'm sorry. I just wanted to get it over with I was so close.

Honestly I was gonna make it multiple parts but I've already got another fic lined up for a part 2 so I didn't want to do that and multi task. Its shitty at some parts I know but those parts are a LOT better than the original bits that were there.

It's slightly edited as I had to keep reading it to see where the fuck I was going with it most the time. I really enjoyed writing in Philza because what's a Wilbur Soot fic without a good Dadza?

Right then, watch out for my next piece. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you shitwads later! Love ya, I do I promise! 💙💙

#osmp #origins smp #c!phantombur #C!Wilbur soot x reader #Fem!Reader #minors dni #Tw: Implied 18+ #tw: violence #angst #enemies to lovers #origins smp wilbur #c!wilbur soot #phantombur #wilbur soot #c!Phantombur x reader

[henrike-does-writing-sometimes]

🖊 🖊 🖊 🖊 — for Kit, Samir, André & Anruh?

ohohoho hell yess

Because the original concept for this story was inspired by the song ‘Angel with a shotgun’, Kit is made to shamelessly embody the era of early to mid 2010’s. The aesthetic, the music (specifically pop- and alternative rock), the fashion, hell even the social media. What I mean with that is they 100% have a Tumblr, and they 100% will comment on your shoelaces. 

Also, because I felt the urge to pay homage to the song that started it all, Kit is also in a band ! They mainly do covers of the most hype early to mid 2010’s songs, with Kit being the lead vocalist and backup guitarist. The name of the band is ‘Shotgun Angels’, and depending on who you ask shotgun is referring to different things (To Kit and Daisy it means riding shotgun, Lexi says it’s about the weapon, according to Dennis it’s referring to the can drinking thing, and Niall just thinks it sounds cool). The band does play a big part in the story as one of the main outlets for Kit, but also for them to have fun with their friends.

I feel like Samir has become one of my favorite characters to write, in that his arc and journey is very interesting. Simplest way to explain it; a submissive person slowly becomes more dominant, which is their true form. Like Samir will never put himself in the role of a leader, but the moment he’s pushed into it he’s so fucking good at it like actually born for it. It’s really neat and I hope I’m writing it as well as I think I am lmao. And while I’m struggling with finding natural ways to fit in character descriptions in my works; Samir is a big man. He’s tall, he’s fat, he has stretch marks and body hair and he’s so fucking beautiful. Absolutely Ethereal and I will not shut up about it.

ANDRÉ ! Baby boy, happy late birthday omfg he’s 23-

Not a single day goes by without me thinking of his bioluminescent pink blush and honestly I need to draw more of it. André is so- he’s so AAA he makes me so happy ! I love how he and the rest of PAXS are so unconditionally cringe and have a fucking routine for introducing their squad. Honestly I love his dynamic with everyone, how he’s friendly and open-minded while still knowing his boundaries. Also, also, him not being prone to anger and then finally snapping and just going feral and destroying shit is so fucking yummy ! And both you and I know damn well that when he gets used to his wings he uses them to extra hug his friends.

I struggle with drawing Anruh and Ruben because Anruh is an absolute unit and Ruben is tiny lmao. That aside, Anruh is a massive fucking softie and I love that for her. Like, she’s such a romantic person without even realizing it. She can kill you in an instant or she can give you the softest forehead kisses, it’s such a wonderful duality. And it does create a ‘of mice and men’ kinda situation where she really wants to interact with the small things in the forest but she also knows damn well that she can snap nacks with the flick of her finger so she tries to stay away from them(I have an excerpt of this that I am unsure if I ever posted…). And then in comes Ruben lmao. I also really like her hairstyle <3

#hi I love them all <3 #ask game #Kit Kumar #Samir Hazeef #André Hernandez #Anruh

[nobodyspecialhereblog]

Dyrkethiel Side B: The Archangel of Equilibrium. Did I make these drawings as an excuse just to continue talking about them? Yes. Yes I did. In terms of the fully outlined/colored drawing, The angel on the left is what Dyrkethiel normally looks like, the one on the right being what they kinda look like when they're in a more comfortable form and the large figure in the middle being Dyrkethiel's true form. I was originally gonna go on a full on rant with explaining their creation, reasoning behind certain decisions i've made, but noooo, it's too much for tumblr still :( so imma try to discuss only the important stuff. or, try to. imma probably leave some actually important things out since idk how to write well. lore rant under cut, all religious mentions and such are for fun and in reference to hazbin hotel, don't take it seriously. I'll make some art/write about Side A at some point :) [and then proceed to make the fanart i always wanted since i got what i felt like necessary explanations of my ocs out of the way guh]

Dyrkethiel Side B:

Dyrkethiel was originally God's attempt to create another being of himself, forged out of void such as himself. However, due to the properties of Void, it failed and created an eldritch abomination instead. God, not liking to destroy or erase any of his creations ended up deciding to repurpose Dyrkethiel instead into an archangel.

Dyrkethiel being the name God has given them, later called Dirk for simpler name by the other archangels, was made to be the Archangel of Equilibrium. A completely neutral force that exists more for understanding and observing than anything else. They exist to see the good in the bad, pure in the evil, see everything within a balance without interfering with anything. In a way, Dirk assists God in helping to understand why some people perform or act in certain ways.

Personality wise, Dirk is usually pretty friendly, although has a very limited social battery and needs time to himself often or at least in quiet areas. He spends most of his free time studying, observing, or just relaxing in private. Most of his time is spent in his thoughts or just enjoying the company of others in silence, acting as a silent figure in the background often. On an outsider's perspective, he's seen as just a calm, passive, and inquisitive individual.

Due to the nature of Dirk's true being, he usually has to take a couple months break away and isolated to let his actual form loose from his angelic disguise or otherwise it gets rather painful to keep holding on. Additionally, when greatly upset or distressed, his disguise might falter slightly in which he usually just leaves asap.

Additionally, Dirk has developed an intense hatred for what he actually is, usually hating even the slightest idea of it and wanting to simply just fit in amongst the other archangels now due to that being how he was raised. Due to the nature of being an eldritch abomination, something incomprehensible, it also risks causing an innate fear amongst any being (demonic, angelic or mortal origins not mattering) due to Dirk's true form being comparable to a blackhole or a tear into reality itself.

Dirk isn't angelic or demonic, being the equal of it all, a being of Void. Not necessarily something in creation or destruction, but rather the base of both. Dirk constantly needs to balance their good deeds and bad deeds to keep their form stable, which usually just results in him being a complete bystander in most situations or just flat out ignoring important things. Of course with usually guilt later.

None the less, even if Dyrkethiel is usually reserved and closed off, he values the ones he calls friends a lot and won't hesitate to sacrifice himself for them even if he can't exactly fight back. He fears judgement and others hating him more than death, willing to hide his true form at any cost. He won't hurt others, even if they're trying to kill him, usually simply accepting his fate.

Due to being a void creature, an eldritch abomination, if Dyrkethiel would rebel in any form he would be punished with erasure rather than banishment due to the risks so Dirk has a deep fear of God. However, God is already giving Dirk his one and only chance of living a life, but still prioritizes his kingdom, his universe and reality, over pitying a failed experiment.

#my ocs #serinscalling #my art #archangel dyrkethiel

[saskianimation]

Week 19 ♡ 19/02 - 25/02 Background Leads, Additional Projects

Monday - Met with my Heavenly Accomplice team this morning & we discussed our priorities when it comes to our specialism tests. We decided that I, as Showrunner, would look through everybody’s background work in the evening and appoint a background lead - so that one person can make the style guide the rest can follow.

We had our meeting with Phil who ensured us that we were on the right track, with our first draft animatic coming together. He commented that he loved the tapestry designs Lucie had drawn, and suggested that we could create a real life ‘guardian angel’ for the grotesquely real shot of him! Came away from the meeting feeling relieved that we were on target towards our animatic presentation.

I went to Life Drawing in the afternoon, and then spent time in the evening making notes on the Background Artists work. I genuinely loved all their work, and wrote notes on what I liked/appreciated and what I thought were their individual strengths. Ultimately, I decided on Sam as Lead Background Artist as he has been incredibly organised this last month and every Monday without fault, brought in an organised PowerPoint of his latest developments. I really liked his art direction so thought this was a good choice - I still wanted Iona to work on the castle exteriors though as I felt her style fits within my vision for the building.

Tuesday - Discussed what Additional Briefs I want to focus on over the next year, I’m working on Denise’s “Rocky Racers” as Character Designer and Animator, and on Lucie’s project “Echo’s of the Knell” as Character Designer. I’m thinking of pursuing a personal idea for further character design and animation that I would like for my own portfolio, but have to keep mindful of the number of extra projects I’m doing. During the afternoon, I worked on cleaning up the “Super Carrot” scene for my 4th Year Assistant Brief, TV Dinner.

Thursday - I’ve decided that in order to meet my Character Design assessment requirements this semester, I’m going to complete the Princess’s sheets. So today I’ve been focusing on finalising her design so that it works well with the other characters. I have been enjoying experimenting with her design over the last few weeks an—- mention princess hat and the opinions of family, friends and team mates for video?

✏️ Life Drawing ✏️

This week in life drawing we were focused on expressions - with emphasis on how the face/muscles/fat cells form around the skull. We learned about the subtle curves of the front of the face and were encouraged to draw that into our pieces. We also were focused on the neck muscles and clavicle bones, and how it sits on the figure. We explored this through quick 1 minute expressions and some longer poses.

[littlewalken]

Aug 5

Had an idea to have the Good Omens husbands meet my interpretation of Azrael. 'Specimen jar?' Aziraphale said with worry. 'Ooo, yeah, I think I saw this once,' Crowley said. Azrael raised a finger to shush them. Both sides knew he, his children, his converts, and others in his employ were impossible causes. Eventually some might go one way or another, and he had a particularly vicious son in law, but the argument of how many angels could fornicate on the head of a pin was a lost one.

The thing is when I write it out I need to have in my head who my casting of Azrael is, childhood blorbo delivers differently than my Dominion War Husband

'I brought the seven handfuls of earth, I watched him make the little rats, I went to the farthest corner of the world to get away from them, and still they came.' vs 'When I brought the seven handfuls of earth I watched as they were created. They infested the world and I took myself to the farthest corner to try and escape them.'

Like Neil Gaiman hearing David Tennant in his head when he did the church scene. It helps to work like that if you can.

Did some drawing yesterday. The link to the just the art blog is my pinned post.

Used baby husbands for references. I don't want to say it's been a while since I've felt able to art but I feel rusty. This is the little fake Moleskine and mechanical pencil. This will be the last sketch book this size and the next one will be bigger. This book is for traveling, thus a mechanical pencil, and fits in a novelty plastic container with the reference pictures.

I would recommend for anyone who arts to carry a little sketch book and pencil or pen. I did at my last job, support the SAG and WGA strike because you never know when you'll be there, and it left me with nothing to do but practice and get better. I like the mechanical pencil because there's no shavings. It has the button on the side of the barrel and I keep several spare leads in it.

But yeah, it's been so long since I've arted and especially since I've done a bigger size that I feel I want to get out the projector and do some tracings so I don't have to worry about getting noses in the right place.

Tracing forms is fine because the final product will only be as good as your skills. I did grids when I was younger, post brain injury they wouldn't have worked, but got tired of all the erasing so I worked myself up to freehand.

Some of how I work might be chalked up to having done dry point etching before I really got in to pencil work.

And in other news I'm back on the search for a Mad Gallica Barbie. Saw some user pictures of the Looks one and I want a friendlier face if you know what I mean.

[shyinadarkplace]

Overwhelmed

Summary: Ryth has a really hard day, but her loves are there to make it better. Pairing: Taishiro x Sy x Eric x Hush x Ryth Word count Warnings: use of titles Daddy, Sir, Princess, Lil bit, Angel this is basically a fluff piece. mentions of anxiety. A/N: This is basically a fluff comfort piece that I wrote for myself but I really really like it and thought it might help others. Taishiro is a bisexual Wolf shifter. Sy is a Half-Orc loosely based on Captain Syverson from Sandcastle mostly just looks though and he is pansexual (as most orcs in my universe are). Eric is a bisexual Russian Vampire Prince. and Hush is a pansexual Human assassin. oh and Technically Ryth is high fea but none of that really matters in this story. Oh one thing that is important is that each of these males are bonded/mated to Ryth, this bonding has created a mental link between all of them. They can speak to each other mentally and they can sense emotions from each other. I try to denote when this is being used by something like through the bond or mentally. No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own I do not own __Captain Syverson or Sandcastle or Henry Cavill. also please don't steal my characters these are deeply personal and I would hate not to be able to share them with you guys.

Overwhelmed

It had already been a really long day, but when Tai came to pick her up from work she still felt she could get through a quick stop at the store. I was going pretty well until it very much wasn't. She and Tai had separated to make the trip quicker but half way through her part of the list things got crazy. Everything was too loud. Too bright. Too fast. Too slow. Buzzing blaring and bombarding her. She tries to take slow even breaths but that doesn’t seem to do much. A barrage of smells hits her. All the while her mind races . All the things she needs to do in the next few weeks, reopening worries , why was there so many of the same carts? Is that kid okay? Shit was that her ex?! No no it can’t be. Who wears heels to the market? I should draw that when I get home? What if the car breaks down?? Ugh why is the air so thick? As moments drag on she gets more and more irritated. “Ryyyy girl.” A deep calm voice instantly soothes frazzled nerves. She spins around as Tai opens his arms for her. She loses herself in him. “That’s it baby.” Slowly everything else fades as Tai holds her tight. “You alright now sweet girl.?” He asks after her heart rate slows and the smell of anxiety isn't as strong giving her a harder squeeze. “Mmm. Thought I could handle…” Tai gives her a gentle look “ Hey don’t do that honey, sometimes these things just kinda creeps up on a person. You wanted to try and push yourself while using your coping methods. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. All things considered you did really really well and I am proud of ya . Overstimulation just hit in the home stretch that’s all. Now come on let’s pay for this and go home.” Ryth smiled softly at Taishiro and nodded .

When they got in the truck. Tai sent a quick text to ensure when they got home Ry could decompress and the guys were happy to get everything ready. The whole way home he held Ryths hand as she put as much of herself against him as she could . “Tai M’really tired. Just gonna go to bed when we get home.” she whispered softly. Tai cocked an eyebrow at her “You can go to bed after you shower and eat something sweetheart.” “I don’t want to . I just want to sleep.” “I know honey, but I have to make sure you are clean and fed or tomorrow you’ll be in a rush to shower and be cranky from being too hungry.” Ryth didn’t say anything just huffed . Tai could tell she wanted to pitch a fit. Probably would have if she had the energy. When they got home Tai helped Ryth from the truck and grabbed the groceries as she trudged into the house. At the door she was greeted by Hush . She cocked her head at his mischievous grin “Hey there angel.” he says sweeping her up so her legs circle his waist. Tai chuckles at her little yelp. “ What are you doing’ hush?” He just grins. Rather than question it Ryth decided to snuggle into him . As they walk through the house she murmurs “Wanna go to sleep please.” Hush squeezes her ass. “Let me get you nice and clean first okay?” Ryth snarls her irritation rising. Hush just swats her ass hard as they enter the bathroom. “Don’t snarl at me … unless of course you’re gonna follow through?” Ryth just blushed and whispered "sorry sir" . Hush laughs softly “That’s what I thought. Now get undressed I’ll start your shower.” She just stands there feeling truly too tired to even try. Hush turns around to see his angel all droopy and looking exhausted, and it tugs at his heart. “Aww Angel. Let me help you. I’ll get you all clean and then you can rest.” Ryth just nods . Soon Hush has her under the warm water. He carefully washes her body and hair. When he’s finished he turns off the water , wrapping her in a great big warm fluffy towel as he mentally calls for Eric. Ryth gives a little churring noise “Thank you. Know s’not usually what you do appreciate it.” Ryth mumbles sleepy as Hush kisses her forehead “Your welcome angel. I just wanted to help you feel better.”

Eric comes in and smiles at the adorable scene before him. Ryth half asleep against Hush’s chest and him enjoying a moment of fulfillment. Hush looks up at him and mentally says “ I’m not usually the one who helps with this. I can see why you guys like it. She is so sweet. Even when she growls.” Eric gently picks her up and nuzzles her softly , Hush does it too. “Hey maybe we can all sleep in the big bed or out in the living room Tai can get it together.” Eric suggests and is pleased when Hush nods happily. Eric takes a moment to grip Hush at the back of his neck. Bringing him in for an embrace. Hush enjoys the moment and the contact whispering a thank you as Eric nuzzles him softly before turning and stepping out of the bathroom.

“Come on Princess. Let’s get you some comfy clothes on.” Eric says softly while tempering the urge to do the vampiric low rumble to relax her and help her sleep. “Nnn.” Ryth sniffs eyes tearing up “ I want to sleep please .” Eric almost says fuck it and let’s her sleep but remembers Tai saying she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. As quickly as he can he helps Ry in to one of his tshirts and a pair of sweats. His heart breaks a little at her sniffles. “Shhh shhh don’t cry Princess. I know you’re tired. I’m so proud of you for everything you’ve done today. You just gotta eat a bit.” Another tear slips down Ryths face “Promise?” Eric nods wiping her tear. She just lifts her arms letting Eric carry her to the kitchen where Sy is ready for her. As Eric passes her off he says “Tai is getting the big bed ready . She cried because she really is very tired .” Sy nods and Eric goes to “help hush clean the bathroom”🥵

Sy sits with Ry on his lap. “Hey there Darlin’. Daddy has some food for you. Just eat a little and then we can all go to bed okay.” Ry sniffs again but nods as her stomach growls . “Now that's my Good girl. Here open up.” Gently he feeds Ry little bits of soft warm bread with pot roast and she hums and churrrs in appreciation to tired to make words. In response Sy does the comforting rumble an Orc does only for his orclings and mate. It's only a few minutes before she has finished her portion of food. “You did so good. Come on let’s get you to bed.” Ryth nods slightly. Already mostly asleep. Sy drops the dishes in the sink and heads to the living room where Tai ,Eric and Hush have made up the big bed which is effectively a huge comfy cozy nest where they all can enjoy physical contact and watch tv. They are already in their favorite spots so Sy slides into his , Ryth ends up sprawled across him and Tai , while Eric and Hush somehow end up on either end holding her hand or calf. The guys watch some documentary and enjoy the night until sleep claims them as well. Each content and happy surrounded by warmth and love. At the center of it their little mate .

#kinkthemes #daddy #sir #angel #princess #darlin #honey #reverse harem #lgbtq representation #fluff #comfort #yes ryth is a big ass baby

[reidsnose]

doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

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doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

-

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ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matt simmons #bau #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

[ritacrow-blog]

-Maribat

-Daminette

-Mari is MDC but also has a secret talent :singing and songwriting

-class! Salt, lila! Salt, coward but not evil adrien/chat noir.

-Mari vents out her sadness and anger through songwriting and singing in a secret garden she discovered somewhere in Paris.

-always has her song book with her. One day during one of Jagged's fittings. Her song book falls out of her bag without noticing. Forgetting it in Jagged's Hotel room.

-Jagged finds it and takes a look at it. Finds out that it's marinette's. Also notices how sad and angry the lyrics look. Confronts marinette about it when she comes back looking panicked and looking for her song book.

-Jagged finds out about Lila and ends up being akumatized.

-cue: Lila! Hunt. And truth being revealed to the class.

-the class tries to apologise. Mari forgives some, not all. And doesn't remain close to them anymore since they betrayed her trust. So no more free stuff/food/babysitting/etc... Just being civil with each other and avoiding persistent ones like Alya and adrien.

-Jagged comes to the bakery to check on Marinette and overhears her humming then singing. Frozen in place entranced my her lyrics, sound and emotion in the song. He listens and knocks when he hears watery sniffles.

-they talk.

-he offers an idea. To record her songs or perform for an audience.

-Mari not being ready turns down the idea of performing for an audience. But says OK to the idea of recording it.

-while in the recording studio with only penny and Jagged. After recording her songs. The asshole Bob barges in telling Jagged that he needs to create more songs that people could relate to. Tries to belittle Jagged and just being an asshole.

-Mari offers Jagged an idea. Since she felt like she had to repay Jagged somehow. To use her lyrics. Jagged refused at first. Until mari offered the idea of him acknowledging MDC being the writer while he was the singer. Since MDC is a secret and is already associated with Jagged. Jagged agreed while also attempting to write his own with mari and penny's support.

-while Mari takes a leap and desides to sell records of her singing on her website. Together with her fashion designs. 50% of the money going to animal shelters and food, shelter and education for the homeless in Paris.

-MDC gets even more famous.

-Jason and Tim being HUGE fans of both Jagged Stone and MDC. Buy a copy of each of her records. And become even bigger fans.

-Jagged offers to bring marinette on tour with him for the summer in Gotham. Mari agrees thinking it would be good for her mental health if she left Paris for a bit.

-Jason and Tim automatically book tickets to the concert. Bruce insists that they all go and think of it as sibling bonding. So Dick and Damian tag along. Jason and Tim try to convert Dick into a Fanboy. Dick becomes a fan after listening to MDCs recordings. Damian refusing to become part of their fanclub.

-Jagged who mari eventually found out was originally from Gotham was shocked. So they didn't stay in a hotel. Instead they stayed at Stone Mansion. (I like the ring of it). Which just so happens to have a beautiful Garden that just calls out to her inner Ladybug. Jagged tells her to wait till the sun's down. And refused to say more. Turns out the garden becomes lit with fireflies.

-Stone Manor and Wayne Manor are neighbours here. Jason and Tim just didn't know that the owner of the place was THE Jagged Stone. They just assumed it was called Stone Manor because it looked like a "Stone" Manor. Bruce, Alfred and Dick keeping in secret because they find it amusing. Damian doesn't know and doesn't care.

- one evening. Mari is in the garden gazebo. Feeling inspired sings one of her unreleased songs to herself.

-Damian avoiding the noise decides to go to the garden in the backyard with Titus. Titus hearing soft singing perks up and runs to the hedge dividing the 2 properties. Damian ends up listening and decides to stay and listen while trying to get Titus to keep quiet.

-entranced by the music he stays. Admitting to himself that her voice sounded like one of an angel. (if he's ever heard one) he becomes curious and climbs a tree close to the hedge to take a peek at the singer. But by the time he gets to a high branch. She's already walking away. To dark to see clearly.

-he sneaks back to the hedge the next night. Not sure if his angel would come back to sing again. But this time hides on the tree branch behind the leaves. Turns out she was already there but drawing under the faint gazebo light.

- hair soft and dark as the nightsky. Gentle facial features. Really wants to see her eyes. Beautiful.

-then she starts humming. He stays still and tries not to make a sound. Her humming builds up and eventually she starts singing to herself. Unaware that someone was listening to her up in the neighbors tree.

-her inner Ladybug leading her to dancing to her own songs with the fireflies in the garden. All while unaware that she's being watched.

-Damian entranced. Heart thumping really loud. her voice, her swaying and the general atmosphere. He stays till she gets called back in. He really wants to see her eyes.

-comes the following night as well. Trying to build up the courage to call out and is confused as to why he's feeling that way. Gives up for the night.

-Alfred waiting by the door. Amused. (nothing gets passed Alfred. Previous Peacock holder. Miraculous of emotion...i think... Let's just say it is) offers his own advice. Damian asking him to keep it secret. Alfred agreeing thinking that this would be good for Damian.

-Damian comes again the following night but this time bites the bullet. This time he isn't up in the tree. He's sitting on the grass by the hedge. Singing along softly to the song (this time a song they both know and is apparently popular and surprise surpriseee damian knows how to sing he just doesn't advertise it). Mari's voice stops for a bit and decides to play along with his idea. End up singing a popular duet for the next song. Until she gets called back.

M: will you be here tomorrow again? I had fun singing along.

D: I can

J: *calling out for mari to get back in soon*

M: I have to get going now. But I hope to see you tomorrow... I mean HEAR! I meant hear... Since I can't see you and all. Hahaha!

D: *secret smile* I'll be here, angel.

M: Angel?

D: *flustered and shouting "what the hell" in his head* you... You sound like one. *STUTTERING??!!! *

M:*flustered * thank you, Oiseau.

D: *beet red* Oiseau?

M: figured I'd give you a nickname too. Your voice reminds me of one. I like it. *WHAT THE HELL, BRAIN!!!???* A-a-anyways I've got to get going. My uncle's calling me in. See you tomorrow night!

D: you mean "hear you tomorrow" right? *amused and flushed*

M: R-right! I meant hear. *flushed* *chuckle* Good night, Oiseau

D: Good night, Angel.

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Feel free to use this idea~~~

Im honestly loving this! 😖💕💕💕

So please tag me if your using it! I want to read it

This is one idea that got me squeeling SO BAD! But since I'm not gifted in the art of writing... I'll leave it to those who are.

Again... FEEL FREE TO USE THIS IDEA

just don't forget to tagg me and those who commented saying that they want to read it too.

#maribat #mlb x dc #daminette #damian x marinette