My second partner for this years Minibang was the phenomenal @davey-in-a-minivan! Her fic Special Investigations is such a fun read that had me kicking my legs the whole time. I'm so excited to get to share this now! I will be reblogging this post with a link to the fic shortly! :3
IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A digital drawing of Juno Steel sitting on a stone throne. He is leaning to the side searching for Rex Glass, who is standing on the other side of the throne. Rex is smiling. The image is drawn in bright shades of pink, orange and yellow. The darker tones are blue and purple. END ID.
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I was thinking about the fact that it's very funny that my parents had more problems with me being atheist than with me being queer.
Like:
"Sure hon, you have a weird perception of your gender and you could possibly bring home women, men or everything in-between... fine, love is love we will take you to the pride and stuff ^w^. BUT WHAT ABOUT JESUS CHRIST HUH?????"
And when I say they had 'more problems' I mean they were like "ow... so you won't come to church on Sundays with us anymore? At least the holidays?🥺"
like idk it's so funny to me
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Ventus, who has spent days on the streets of Old Mondstadt listening to the voices of the people. Who has silently watched as parents take care of their young. Watch kids escort their aunts to the stores. The wind around him is so cold
He plays his lyre. Its the only thing he has on him. He would rather die than say where he acquired it, and at the end of the day its his lyre.
Ventus closes his eyes. For the breifedt moment he couldn't hear the deafening gales around him. He is in the eye of the hurricane. What song is he even playing? He switched from one track to the other minutes ago and was now improvising a solo.
The families are still talking to each other.
At the end of the day, he is just background music
.
Then one day a creature bumps into him. Radiating the same warmth as a prayer and eyes akin to his god's. Was it a spy? Was it a child? Was it a puppet?
Wearily, he asks for a name. Smiling as he tells the sprite how he wishes to make ballads of the little thing. It flutters around him, occassionally stumbling in mid air like its drunk. It gives out a little squeak as it gestures to itself.
Ventus tries to mimic that chime, but his mouth can't hit the same notes. The sprite speaks more and more, yet Vrntus can't understand a thing. He just smiles and nods as he subconsciously plays his lyre.
Before he knows it, he can feel the chill of night. Or at least what he thinks it night. The elders of the city tell what night is supposed to be, but the winds had carried away those voices a long time ago.
Tales of an object called the moon. How it would shift as the weeks go by. How it could disappear and be reborn once anew- surrounded by her starry sisters.
Night.
He hated it.
He hates how cold it is. How dark it is. How every candle and life is snuffed by the wind.
Yet the creature is still hear, making a nest on his lap.
Its warm.
Letting go of his lyre for just a breif moment, he runs his fingers down the cloak of the sprite. Soft yet smooth. Was this what a bird felt like?
Tomorrow would be another day. Tomorrow he could try to pronounce his ... freind's name better. Tomorrow he could do so much.
Despite the being being on his lap, he felt a warmth in his chest. Something he has never felt before. Something that made him think of protecting this creature.
Ventus rests his eyes as he carries his first friend, unware he would do this everynight til the day he died
*cheers and applause amid tears and sobs*
MAN that was NOT was I was thinking about sad wise but FUCK that hurts
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