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ineffable-suffering · 7 months

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #story of job #job minisode #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #my own meta

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alohastyles-x · 4 months

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Part 2

A dark!Druig Fanfic | Druig x reader | Scream crossover

Part 1 | Masterlist |

Summary: The origins of a mysterious masked killer... who just so happens to be a god.

Note: Chap 2 is here :))) I hope you guys enjoy this story!

Warnings: mentions of blood, light gore, death, murder... lol

Wordcount: 2.5k - a little shorter but i wanted to get it out sooner

Sleep did not come easy, as the events of the night flashed in your mind, one after another, leaving you tossing and turning in bed. There was clearly no way you could fall asleep after what happened, and the murky fate that now lay just on the premise of your thoughts… you came into contact with the god of death.

He was just a myth, a scary story told to kids to easily spook them. Horror novels and movies were born out of the lore surrounding him and his favored mask that adorned his face during his kills. He was just a halloween decoration, an adjacent theme to a favored holiday… he couldn’t possibly be real, could he?

Your question was answered after sleep finally eluded you into a chaotic induced nightmare. Awaking with a startled scream, you sat upright, panting as you attempted to catch your breath. You had been back in the alley, the pale face of the poor blonde illuminated through the smoke by the flickering streetlight above. Golden strings of what looked like cosmic stardust had begun swirling around you, their origins coming from the dark figure who stood at the end of the alley. They had wrapped themselves around your wrists, your arms, your body until the suffocating feeling they brought with them awoke you from your sleep.

“What is it?!” Celia screamed, as she burst into your room, a frying pan in her hands, ready to attack. She looked around, attempting to locate the danger.

“I-I’m sorry, it was just a bad dream,” you said in between breaths. Celia lowered the frying pan, concern flickering across her features as she watched you closely.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“I think so-,” you began to answer, but were quickly silenced by a burning sensation twisting around your wrist.

“Shit!” You cried out, fumbling to turn on the lamp. Celia rushed over to help, white you held your wrist closely. Once light illuminated the room, you pulled your wrist out to examine the burn mark.

Only it wasn’t a burn mark. A golden mark had been etched into your skin, a delicate white pattern tracing through the gold in waves. The mark flickered in the light, making it almost like a bracelet permanently clasped around your wrists.

“What the hell is that?” You asked, panic rising through you as you stared at the mark. You had seen this golden pattern before… in your dream, and on the night of the murder. Whatever this was, had to belong to the god of death… but what did it mean?

“Hold on…,” Celia responded, already heading to the door. She raced back to the kitchen island where she left the book the two of you were reading the night before, researching the god.

“Let me see if this has any information,” she flipped through the pages. You sat closely, watching as she skimmed the foreign words on the page. Your wrist had stopped hurting, but just knowing the mark existed made your skin crawl. Whatever it meant was clearly not good… you’ve seen the movies!

“I’m not seeing anything in here that mentions a mark… usually his victims are unsuspecting that he's on the hunt, unaware they’ve even come into contact with him… apparently it makes it more, well I don’t know how to translate this word but I would assume it means appealing.” Celia concluded.

“Damn it.”

“I know,” Celia muttered under her breath. She began to mention a few people you could ask, as they were more knowledgeable than her on the god of death, but you weren’t listening. No, your mind was racing for other solutions.

“Does the book say anything at all about how to summon him?” You interrupted Celia, who now stared at you like you had 5 heads.

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m not sure I heard you correctly?”

“I think if we could summon him, we could ask him? Find out more about this mark?”

“Are you nuts?! You want to try and summon the god of DEATH… who will surely kill you once he sees you by the way, to ask why he marked you? Hello?” Celia yelled, flustered with your own remark. You hadn’t thought that fully through, you’ll admit that.

“Okay maybe not him, but what about the other gods who knew him? The eternals? Could we summon one of them and ask?”

“Yeah I don’t think that's how it works… you don’t just summon a god, y/n…” Celia chuckled. There was a barrier between them and the humans. While many humans worshiped the old gods, no one ever actually heard from them. And they definitely didn’t summon them.

“Ugh, you’re right, I know you’re right… I just… I don’t know what else to do!” You let yourself fall back onto the pillows of your bed and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Give me today, I’ll talk to my group at school and see if we can think of anything that this may be connected to. Just go to work and try and live like you don’t have a potential mark of death around your wrist,” Celia responded, patting your leg comfortingly. You sighed, knowing she was right. There was nothing much you could do but just pretend like everything was normal.

You could do that…

A few hours later you were making your way down the stairs heading to work. Unfortunately for you, there was only one way to the restaurant, which was right past the alleyway from the night before. You could walk another 35 minutes out of your way to walk around the entire square to the otherside, but it was too hot for that.

The early morning sun was surprisingly warm against your skin. Humidity hung in the air like a wet blanket, making you squirm as you walked down the street. Yeah, there was no way you could walk that long in this heat, and you were grateful for the prescription strength deodorant that you doused yourself in this morning.

As you approached the alleyway, the yellow caution tape caught your attention as a slight breeze ruffled it. It covered the entire alley entrance in a big X, though one could still slip through the tape if they really wanted.

And for some reason, that's exactly what your brain told you to do. Carefully, you moved in between the tape, trying not to lose your balance and send the tape ripping off the walls of the alley. You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this, but some innate sense deep inside of you pulled you in.

The stench of the alley was strong, from the trash building in the dumpsters, to the blood that still stained the concrete- a crime scene crew had yet to clean it up. Trying not to throw up, you slowly walked deeper into the alley.

A tingling sensation caressed your wrist, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was a soft tingle, like a breeze had blown through, meeting your skin. You inhaled as the tingling moved up your arm to your shoulder, and then back down your back, stopping halfway. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, as you felt something press up against your spine. The metallic smell was back, lingering in your nose.

Whirling around, you were met with nothing but the empty alley opening up to the street. A group of teenagers had stopped to peer through the tape, trying to see what they could spot. Panting, you stood still, hoping they didn’t see you, and that whatever was just touching you was gone. Or just in your head- that would be fine too.

Once the teenagers had satisfied their need to see the grotesque site, you made your way back out of the alley. Whatever just happened had to be connected to the god you had run into the night before- you were sure of it as the golden band around your wrist itched- but you didn’t want to think about it, not now anyway.

Everything was perfectly fine. Perfectly normal.

“Y/n! There you are,” your boss, Alex, greeted you as you walked in the doors of the kitchen. Alex was a force of nature that’s for sure. They were probably the kindest person you had ever met, and yet had such a stoic nature about them, that no one took advantage of them. It was something you secretly envied.

“Hey Alex. How was opening this morning?” Your shift started a couple of hours after opening, so you wanted to gauge how the day started, as it was usually telling how the rest of the day would go into the night.

“It was pretty slow, you know with the murder and everything,” Alex whispered. You nodded. He had no idea just how much you knew. “I suspect the rest of the day will be just as slow. Sooo, you know what that means! It’s a perfect day to train!”

You groaned. Alex knew how much you hated training, but they couldn’t deny you were the best.

“This is, I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?” Alex turned to the man standing behind him. You hadn’t noticed him at all, as he was half in the shadows. He took a step further, the light overhead shining on him like a spotlight. Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw him. He had the bluest eyes you had ever seen, contrastingly sharply against his dark pupils. He was very handsome, his chin chiseled at just the right angles, his 5 o’clock shadow highlighting his jawline. Something about him sent alarm bells in your head, yet also made you want to fall to your knees before him. He just seemed so… familiar.

“Kieran,” he responded, smirking slightly. His voice was deep, a thick irish accent coming through. It wasn’t rare to hear someone with an accent from across the seas over in this part of town, but something about him just sent a chill down your spine. Not to mention, your golden bracelet seemed to have warmed against your skin in his presence.

“Right, silly me. Anyways, this is Kieran. He will be serving, so I want you to train him today. Really go over the menu and our practices…” Alex continued but you stopped listening. You couldn’t break the stare you and Kieran were entranced in, his smirk only growing by the second. It was as if he knew the effect he had on you, and he was relishing in it silently before you.

‘Hello? y/n?” Alex waved a hand in front of your face.

“Right… train him, I got it.” You said, breaking eye contact and turning toward Alex. They offered you a small smile and a wink, before turning to Kieran.

“You’re in good hands. Y/n is the best!”

The two shared a small exchange before Alex left you alone with the man. Kieran turned to you, the smirk returning. It annoyed you, how cocky he already was without having to utter a single word to you.

“So, have you ever worked in a restaurant before?” You asked, grabbing a menu from the server station next to you.

“No,” his response was short and curt. This only annoyed you even more. You beckoned him to follow you, rolling your eyes as hard as you could when your back was to him. A low chuckle came from behind you, almost as if he knew of your secret act.

You settled into a booth next to the kitchen, allowing him to slide in across from you.

“Okay, so first things first, you have to know the menu. The rest will be so much easier if you know what we offer. We’re a higher end restaurant, so we offer a lot of ‘fine dining’ dishes. Lots of pastas, seafood, steaks, and all of that.” You began to explain. The golden band around your wrist buzzed with energy as you talked. It was hard to focus on what you were saying, as the buzz intensified.

Kieran sat before you looking over the menu, memorizing what dishes you guys’ offered. As he did, you pulled your phone out to see a missed text from Celia.

Found out some more info. Meet for drinks later?

You glanced up at Kieran as you responded.

Sure. McCrakens?

The Irish pub was your go to for drinks with Celia, and its atmosphere felt perfect for the conversation the two of you had to have. The pub was almost always packed out and so loud, you could barely hear your own self, let alone eavesdrop on anyone.

Celia shot back a ‘yes 10:00 pm’ and you locked your phone, turning your attention back to Kieran.

“Seems simple enough.” Kieran said, letting the menu fall onto the table. You nodded. There was no one else in the restaurant right now, so it was a little hard to begin any other parts of training him.

“Where’d ya get that?” He asked, his deep voice interrupting your thoughts. He was nodding to your wrist. You looked to see what he was referring to, and realized the band of gold was on full display.

“Oh, uh,” you scrambled for a response as you tugged the bracelet back down over your wrist that you had covering it. His eyes peered quizzically at you, his signature smirk gone. He was as serious as could be, which made you look at him puzzled.

“It was just a dumb thing I did at a tattoo shop,” you lied. He gave you a look that screamed that he read right through you.

“I didn’t know they made gold ink,” he responded. You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could think of that would make sense. Instead, you decided to tell him the truth… well the half truth.

“Alright, fine. I really don’t know. I just woke up with it this morning. My friend and I are trying to research to figure out what it means, but so far we’ve turned up nothing.”

He stared at you intently, studying your wrist. You squirmed under his intense gaze. It was almost as if he was burning through the bracelet, the buzzing even more noticeable than before.

“I think I may know something. Although, it’s a bit of a legend.”

“That’s kind of the conclusion we’ve come to as well, that whatever this is has to be sort of supernatural like that.”

You bit your lip as you tried to hold back what was about to come tumbling out of your mouth next. There was no way you could invite this man out to the pub tonight… not without him finding out you came into contact with a god. You couldn’t just go around telling anyone that sort of information. Not today. Especially not after last night's murder has been blasted all over the news, already blaming the gods.

“I’d love too,” he said suddenly, making you jump slightly as you were pulled from your thoughts. You blinked, trying to figure out what you just asked him.

“What?”

“You invited me out tonight, with you and your friend.” He looked stumped.

“No… I didn’t? Did I?” You were starting to question everything in your head just now… did you somehow let it tumble out of your mouth without realizing?

“You did… are you okay?” He asked. You nodded, your throat suddenly too dry to talk.

Well… there was no backing out of this now.

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#druig x reader #druig smut #druig x y/n #druig angst #druig fluff #alohastylesx #marvel #alohastylesx works #marvel fic #<33333 #dark!druig #Dark!Druig x reader #Dark druig #barry keoghan #barry keoghan x reader #marvel horror #druig horror #druig x scream #marvel x scream

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mj-ackerman · 2 years

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Since someone already translated the Mission 1 of the Novel, I'm gonna proceed with Mission 2 and the rest: You can read the Mission 1 story: Anya's Nature Class HERE

SxF Light Novel: Family Portrait Translation Mission 2: Yuri's Day Off (Part 1)

Note: The italicized sentences are the characters monologue, while the bold and italicized quoted sentence are the ones Anya's reading. DO NOT REPOST

Part 2>>

“Hello, Mr. Bellman. How are you feeling?”

Yuri Briar. 20 years old.

He lost his parents at an early age and was raised by his older sister, his only immediate relative.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This room kinda smells a bit, isn’t it?”

Wanting to make his beloved sister’s life as easy and happy as possible, he studied hard from an early age, and joined the Ministry of Foreign Affairs by skipping grades, and is now traveling around the world as a young elite diplomat…but it is just his title on the surface.

Currently, Yuri Briar works for the National State Security Service, also known as (SSS). Ranking as the second lieutenant.

“Even if I ventilate the room, the smell of a filthy traitorous bastard keeps coming back. I wonder where the hell is the smell coming from? Right? Mr. Bellman?”

The man is a secret police officer.

------

“When was the last time you took a rest, Yuri?”

“Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant. I took a nap three days ago, so don’t worry about it.”

When he called him out as he came out of the interrogation room, the younger subordinate replied with a smile.

Yuri is tall but slender and with a baby face, his SSS uniform looks like a school uniform when he wears it.

“I want to devote myself to this work, to make the country where my sister lives a better place.”

With a bashful face, he talks about his dream like a young little boy.

But the lieutenant knew that his harmless smile was not all he had to offer. Even now, Thomas Bellman is still vomiting, the traitorous politician who could not be dropped by anyone. The reason why the black gloves are soaking wet must have been from the blood of the traitor. This is what this man is, bloodthirsty.

“Then take a rest tomorrow. It’s a holiday.”

“I told you, I’m fine. My energy is on max!”

“That’s an order from your superior.”

“What?!”

Yuri exclaimed in frustration when he casually ordered him to do so.

“I don’t have time to do that. I must catch Twilight as soon as possible to eliminate the threat coming from the West!”

He’s like a tenacious hunting dog.

Although he can be an uncontrollable mad dog sometimes, he is usually astonishingly serious and diligent. He is like a loyal dog to his owner, the country.

No….

In this man’s case, it is not the country itself that he pledges allegiance to, but rather, to “the country where my sister lives.”

And for that reason, he gave up his bright future and chose to do dirty work himself….?

Being a diplomat is a dream job for many students today. It’s not something that you can just aspire to become but rather, it’s something that you have to work hard for.

What would his sister think if she found out that her young brother had abandoned his brilliant career and was now working everyday in a place where the sun doesn't shine, getting his hands dirty? Or maybe that’s the reason why this man is hiding real job from his sister…, as he thought about that, he immediately stopped.

Everything is just his own speculation. If there is one unwavering truth, it is that everything Yuri Briar does, exists only for the sake of his sister’s happiness.

Good grief, what a healthy boy he is.

He is not stupid enough to be sentimental, but he admires the unwavering faith of his young subordinate. Therefore, he don’t want to use them up with the stupid things like overworking…...due to the lack competent personnel.

“You need a reasonable rest regime so that you can work more smoothly and accurately. It’s fine, you can rest tomorrow. And after the holidays, you can go back and work harder.”

“With all due respect, sir, but…”

“This is for the country. More importantly, it’s for the sake of your sister’s happiness.”

“......I understand.”

At the mention of his sister, Yuri reluctantly agreed in the end. Looking at him, his face, which became sulky, did not look like a ruthless secret police.

------

“Aaah. they suddenly told me to take a rest, but what should I do now?”

Yuri, who was forced to take a day off half-heartedly, was lying on his bed at home with a lot of free time on his hands in the morning.

Outside the window, which can be seen from his bed, there is a cloudless blue sky.

Oh right, I remember Dominic said he was going on a trip with Camilla. Ah, I also want to go somewhere with my sister for the first time in a long time….It would be nice if we can eat something delicious together.

What came to his mind was the smiling face of his beloved sister, Yor. At that, Yuri’s face loosens sloppily.

“Today’s a holiday…. So the city hall will be closed.”

While looking at the calendar, he looks at the picture frame on the low chest and sees Yor smiling at him in the photo. Yuri’s cheeks blushed at the beauty that would make even the goddess of beauty fade away.

If my sister is also on break from work, maybe I can go visit her again…. It’s been two weeks since I saw her….Oh, but if it’s a holiday, then the hospital is off too.

In that case, the loathsome Lottie is also supposed to be at home.

Loid Forger, who works at Berlint General Hospital, is, regrettably, Yor's husband. Yuri, however, did not approve of this. To him, Loid was nothing more than a diabolic thief who took away his most precious sister in the whole world just because he is a little bit nicer, a little bit taller, a little bit refreshing, and a little bit caring, an excellent doctor.

Why does he need to have a day off anyway? He needs to work like a sled cow, regardless of holidays, then die somewhere because of overwork!

As he was getting frustrated remembering the wastefully well-dressed face of his sister’s thief, Lottie, the phone on the top of the low chest rang.

Yuri lazily lifted himself out of the bed, while clicking his tongue as he said,

“It’s so early in the morning, who the hell is calling? Yes, Yuri Briar speaking.”

When he answered the phone in an unfriendly voice, he heard a beautiful, angelic voice coming from the other side of the receiver.

“Oh, Yuri. It’s me, Yor.”

“S-S-Sis?!”

The tone of Yuri’s voice jumps up an octave.

“I’m so sorry for calling so early in the morning. Are you going to work now?”

“No, it’s my day off today.”

Yuri responded shyly. At that, Yor’s voice brightened.

“Really?”

“Y-Yeah….sis. I don’t have any business trips and it's a holiday today, so I’m free for the day.”

“That’s great.”

Yuri’s heart was ringing along with the cheerful voice of Yor.

Sis is happy that I’m off from work. I’m sure that she also wanted to see me….Oh, Lieutenant, thank you so much.

As he was thinking of sending a bouquet of gratitude to the superior he was complaining a minute ago, he heard Yor says,

“That’s good. Actually, Loid is not here for work today .”

Yor said something that made him even more happier. Yuri’s heart suddenly became light, airy like the blue sky today.

“Something like an urgent call came in…”

“I see, Lottie has work today. That's amazing, no I mean, that’s tragic, sis.”

He rephrased, but he can’t even keep his voice from getting lively.

“Come on, don’t call him that. Loid is way older than you,Yuri. And he’s also your brother-in-law, address him with respect, okay?”

Yor reprimanded Yuri in a troubled voice.

Although Yuri obediently responded, “Yes, sis,” he honestly had no intention of addressing Loid with respect. Furthermore, he doesn’t even have any intention of calling him “brother-in-law.”

I still haven’t acknowledged him as my sister’s husband. No, like I would ever admit it. I won’t admit it even to death, Forger

As he was harboring hostility towards Loid inside, Yor asks him over the phone,

“So, Yuri, can I ask for a little favor? Could you please come over now?”

“Of course sis! I’ll be right there!”

Yuri danced wildly with joy at the request from his beloved sister, he ran out of the house almost fully clothed and headed straight for the apartment where his sister was waiting for him, His steps were lighter than a bird’s feather.

“I’m here, sis. What do I have to do? You need something in a high place that you can’t get? Or maybe, you need help to carry heavy loads? Or do you need someone to sign the witness testimony in your divorce papers? I’ll do whatever you need!”

Yuri opens the door to the Forger’s house with a bright smile. Then, Yor, who seemed to be waiting impatiently for his arrival says,

“Yuri, you’re here. Thank you so much!”

She also greeted Yuri with a bright smile.This smile seems to come from their genes.

Oh, sis. How cute and well-groomed you are today. I’m the happiest person in the world having the most beautiful and kindest sister in the world.

As Yuri was trembling with happiness in his heart, a small creature appeared from behind Yor as if to disturb his surging joy.

“Unkie!”

“C-Chihuahua girl.”

Anya Forger, the child from the previous marriage of the loathsome sister thief, Loid Forger.

She’s such a hardcore idiot who misheard “knowledge is power” as “knowledge is swole chihuahua”. However, her auspiciousness of wanting to become a great person in order to feed his sister with delicious food is quite impressive. But after all, she’s still the child of that Loid Forger. Yuri can’t let himself be fooled.

“Don’t call me unkie, I’m not your uncle.Don’t you have school today?”

“Today is a holoday.”

“You mean, holiday”

But come to think of it, it’s a national holiday, so it wouldn’t be strange for the school to be closed. That was a blind spot, Yuri clicked his tongue inwardly.

“But still, it’s better than having Lottie. I'll just let her watch her cartoons, and she won’t be able to disturb me talking to my sister. Oh, SIS, my SISTER! I’ll do anything for you my sister, Oh, my dear sister Yorrrrr, my SISSSSSS!!!”

“....Ugh.”

Upon hearing those thoughts, Anya’s face painted an expression that resembled a Noh mask, belching softly.

“You always have heartburn, don’t you?”

“My stomach is full.”

You nasty brat. I bet you ate too much for breakfast. Well, I understand why you wanted to eat as much as you can. My sister’s cooking is exquisite. It has an indescribable aroma, the more you chew, the more you sweat, the stronger the taste of the ingredients, and occasionally it even includes chopping boards, so not only is it full of nutrients, it also makes your teeth stronger….. Oh, I want to be a food ingredient and be chopped up by my sister.

After a moment of screaming in his chest about his feelings for his sister, Yuri turned to Yor.

“So? What do you want me to help you with? Tell me whatever you need. Do you need me to carry the shopping bag, clean the fan, or do the laundry? I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Actually…”

“Oh right, since the weather is nice, how about we do some redecoration? Let’s take this opportunity and maybe you and Lottie could have separate bedrooms..-”

“No, about that…”

Yor hesitated for a moment, frowning her brows slightly, looking troubled as she stammered in front of Yuri, who happened to be very enthusiastic. Yor looked wonderful even with a look like that.

“What’s wrong, sis? We’re close, aren’t we? If you have something to say to me, you can say it, don’t be shy.”

When Yuri said that with a cheerful and enthusiastic smile, Yor finally spoke.

“Actually, there’s an event organized by the city hall today…”

“Yes, yes.”

“Millie was supposed to be the participant, but this morning I suddenly got a call from her saying she has a cold, and I had to go instead. But Loid also has an emergency that he can’t missed out, and Franky, the one we always ask for, is also busy…”

Hmmm…Franky? Who’s that? That's a completely unfamiliar name…

Yuri reacted strongly to the name of a man he had never heard his sister mentioned before.

Maybe he’s a nanny, hired for babysitting or something.If he’s serious and just doing his job then it’s fine, but if he’s a piece of shit who tries to make a pass on my sister, I’ll execute him

Yuri thought, gritting his teeth.

“The event will last for half a day and I couldn’t leave Anya home alone. So, Yuri, would you mind playing with Anya?”

“Eh….”

Yuri stiffened involuntarily at the unexpected turn of events. Ruminating over Yor’s words, he asks in horror,

“I-In other words, you want me to stay in this house without you and with this chihu- I mean, with Loid Forger’s daughter? In this house without you, sis??”

“Yes. Can you do that for me?”

In an instant, Yuri’s beautiful holiday fell apart.

Oh my god, and here I thought I could finally spend the day with my sister…but I have to spend it with this Chihuahua girl? I’d rather read books on interrogation and study torture while surrounded by pictures of my sister, it’s a million times better than doing this.

Yuri almost collapses on the spot in despair. But Yor looked at him with moist eyes and said,

“Please, Yuri. You’re the only one I can count on.”

At that, as the brother who loves his sister more than anything else in the world,

“Okay sis, leave everything to me!”

He had no other choice but to say yes……

--------

It has been 30 minutes since Yor left for work.

Yuri sat on the sofa in the Forger's living room, casually flipping through the pages of a magazine. However, he wasn’t looking through it intently.

Before that….

“Well then, I’ll be back as soon as possible, I’m really sorry, Anya. I'll bring you lots of gifts. Yuri, please take good care of Anya.”

After saying that, Yor rushed to work. Her graceful appearance as she walked out the door was still reeling in Yuri's mind.

“I’m bored, Unkie.”

Anya stretched out as she lay on the carpet under the low table, reading the comic "SPYWARS".

Yuri nodded and got up on the sofa.

“Then, do you want to study?”, he asked.

“Uh….study…”

Anya made a blatantly disgusted face, but she didn’t mean to harass him.

Yuri, who usually doesn’t interact with children, could not imagine playing with children in a way that would please them. All he thinks about is to get a better job as soon as possible and become a man who can protect his sister. Journalist, lawyer, doctor, technician, he studied all fields evenly so that he can handle all kinds of occupations. Therefore, he didn’t have any time to play, but he never complained about it. In fact, he is proud of the fact that all knowledge he has cultivated in this way is the foundation that supported him today.

“Tell me what subject you're not good at, we'll focus on that part.”

“I-I don’t have any subjects I’m not good at. I’m good at everything.”

“Don't try to lie to me with that stupid face of yours. Well then, we're going to study all the subjects.”

When Yuri said this in a nonchalant tone, Anya groaned “Geh” sounding like a strangled frog.

“Is this girl really an Eden student? I bet my sister must have suffered a lot because of her….Poor sis, married to a man who already has a child. Right! What if my tutoring made her a little smarter? Then, my sister would say, “As expected from you, Yuri.”, with a sparkling smile like jewels. And then maybe, she will reward me with a kiss on the cheek reward, just like when I was a kid. Oh sis, my beloved SISTER. I love you. You're the most beautiful woman in the world, no one can compare to you, sis.”

Suddenly, Yuri felt a cold gaze directed at him, stopping his overflowing feelings of love for his sister running out of control. When he looked to his side, he saw Anya staring at him silently. When Anya met Yuri’s eyes, she let out a heavy sigh. It was as if she was saying “Good grief, what a troublesome guy.”, she was so annoyed that she had a persistent cough, but was only able to let out a dry cough.

“Come on, hurry up and go to your room and go get your notebooks, textbooks, and reference books. Don’t forget to bring your learning supplies too.”

“I don’t feel like studying today.”

“Even though you have a lot of free time?”

“I have free time, but I don't have time to study.”

Yuri sighs at Anya’s cheeky remarks, “Well, go watch TV then.” he told her.

Efficiency doesn’t increase even if you beat the ass of people who don’t like it. Even though he had lost his sense of reason towards his sister, Yuri was still rational enough to realize this. However, Anya appeared to be even less endearing.

“There’s no cartoons to watch at this time.”

“In that case, lie down and take a short nap. Like that fat dog over there.”

Yuri, who was annoyed, pointed at the dog sleeping peacefully on the carpet. It’s a lazy dog that makes him wonder why people keep such a dog. It can’t even be a substitute for a guard dog.

“Ah no. No need to take a short nap, just fall deep asleep. Sleep until my sister comes back.”

“.........”

All of the sudden, Anya looked at him staringly. She looked extremely dissatisfied.

“What? You look like you want to say something.”

Saying that, Anya quickly left the living room. Yuri thought that she had most likely sulked and retreated to her room, but she soon returned with a notebook and pencil in hand. She sat down directly on the carpet and began to write diligently on the low table. Occasionally, she would glance at Yuri and would chuckle meaningfully, then move her pencil diligently again.

What is she writing about?

Looking at Anya’s hand, Yuri saw a series of squiggly lines on the paper, involuntarily he exclaimed “That’s dirty!”. The writing looked like worms crawling on the ground, harder to read than any type of treason code.

“What’s that…. Is that some kind of curse spell? That’s creepy.”

“A diary, I’ll show you later.”

Anya grinned eerily saying that. Yuri replied with a “Huh”. He then took the notebook from Anya and tried his best to decipher it……

“Today is a holiday. And yet I have to stay at home with Unkie. Unkie isn’t like uncle scruffy, he doesn’t play with me. Unkie told me to sleep like a dog all day. Unkie is bad, I’m so sad”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

After reading it, Yuri fainted with his head in agony. It was truly a cursed word, a cursed book.

If my sister reads those lines, she’ll definitely hate me!!

“Yuri, that’s too much! I hate you for being such a bad kid!”

Yuri imagined his sister saying that while furiously turning her back. Just thinking about it, he banged his head against the low table in despair and confusion.

“You’re so violent, Unkie…”

Anya swallowed, flinching at Yuri’s eccentricity.

“Let’s go out!”

Yuri stood up, blood streaming from his head.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He looked at Anya, who was pointing at his head, and gave her a serious order.

“We’re gonna go out to play now. Get ready, chihuahua girl.”

---------------

“Ooting! Ooting!”

“Stop flapping your feet. And it’s “outing”, not “ooting””

Yuri had been awake for several days in a row before his superiors gave him a reluctant day off. And now, he couldn’t help but sigh as he sat in the tram with the daughter of the despicable thief. Why should he, an excellent secret police officer who pledged allegiance to the country, have to suffer such a fate?

An old woman sitting nearby looked at the excited Anya, she squinted her eyes and said,

“Oh my, she’s so cute.”

What’s so cute about her? Damn it, this is all because of Millie - my sister’s co-worker

Going to his sister’s house, helping her, eating the food she cooks, talking with her - this dream holiday was ruined all because that girl caught a cold.

Does she really even have a cold?

The timing is just too good to be true. If she had forced her beautiful, kind-hearted, angelic colleague, who never doubted others, to work on a troublesome holiday, then such a woman should be executed right away. She doesn’t deserve to live.

….No, no matter what kind of woman she is, she still might be an important working companion for my sister. After all, if I have to execute someone, it should be Loid Forger, who forced his daughter to my sister on a holiday and is working on his own ....Damn it, if that man were a spy, I could have executed him with dignity.

While Yuri was thinking about those things, the tram arrived at the station they needed to get off. Anya jumped off the platform.

“Where are we going, unkie? To the amusement park? I want to ride a ferris wheel.”

“Since you’re just gonna play anyway, why not go to an educational place where you can play too, right? We’re going to “STEP WORK KIDS”.”

Anya repeated it as “SNACK WAAK KISS”. A young woman who was walking nearby heard it and burst out laughing.

She’s really a total embarrassment. Even though he was annoyed, Yuri corrected her.

“It’s Step-Work-Kids. I remember one of my seniors at work told me he went there with his wife and kids.”

“What’s it like? Is it fun?”

“To simply put it, it’s a place where children can simulate working in their field of interest and help them choose a career for their future. It’s a huge government-approved indoor entertainment facility created with the aim of encouraging the development of the necessary human resources such as lawyers, judges, military personnel, doctors, scholars, engineers and other professionals needed in Ostania.”

“It’s a little bit difficult.”

Anya looked at him with dull eyes like a dead fish.

“You’re talking like an alien, unkie.”

“....in other words, it’s a place where you can play around with different jobs and decide what you wanna be in the future.”

Hearing that, Anya’s eyes immediately lit up. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her chest and sighes excitedly.

“Sounds like fun.”

“Right? Let’s get going then.”

As he said this and turned to go to the address where the amusement facility was located, something soft touched his left hand. Yuri then realized that Anya was trying to hold his hand, he winced involuntarily at that.

“.....what are you doing?”

“When we go ooting, I have to hold papa and mama’s hands, and so does scruffy.”

“What’s with this scruffy? And we’ve been outside for a while now.”

Honestly, Yuri was reluctant to hold her hand, but then he realized that if he lost her just because he didn’t want to hold her hand, he would have no face to show to his sister, so he unwillingly held her hand. The hand he held was warm and a little damp, probably because her body temperature is higher. Moreover, her hand is very sticky.

God, it’s dirty….why didn’t she wash her hands properly?

While thinking that, he was also surprised how small her hands were.

“How old are you?”

“I’m six years old.”

“I see.”

Yuri glanced involuntarily.

Are these hands smaller than a child’s at her age? Or are they bigger? He had no idea what size a six year old's hands would have.

…..come to think of it, sis used to hold my hands like this.

But of course, his young hands were never sticky with candies…..

“How many minutes, unkie?”

“About 10 minutes.”

“So exciting.”

“Look straight ahead. No more glancing sideways.”

Despite his nagging warnings, Yuri didn’t realize that he had unconsciously adjusted his pace to match up with Anya’s footsteps.

"Welcome to STEP WORK KIDS!"

----------------

#spy x family #spy x family light novel: family portrait #translation #anya forger #yuri briar #yor forger #DO NOT REPOST #I'll post the part 2 later #sxf

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Note

headcanons or one-shot (pick your poison!) of astarion and gn!tav celebrating midwinter/winter solstice together? technically, it does exist as a holiday in the forgotten realms! blessed yule as well! :D

I suppose this prompt can't wait forever so here we are. A short fluffy drabble.

Prompt ✶New Beginnings✶ for BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge

Thanks @bhaalbaaby for beta-reading! Especially for re-writing some sentences!

I fucked a bit and didn't notice the requester asked specifically for gn!reader and did f!reader as usual. So, this one is f!reader and I will do gn! later

Winter Solstice

Synopsis: Astarion and Tav spend Winter Solstice in the northern town of Firesheer, and the subject of marriage comes up.

Tags: fluff, comfort

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are freezing.

You've never been so far to the north, and you have never understood why people were afraid of winters.

Now, you do.

It's Nightal, 20. The longest night of the year. And probably the coldest, because the only thing you can think of, is how to get inside the inn and hide under fur blankets.

Till snow melts.

You look around. People of Firesheer are festive as if the cold doesn't bother them. They sing and dance, resting after months of hard work in the mines.

You put your hand inside the pockets of your traveler fur coat, golden coins jingling in the pockets. The only redeemable quality about this frozen hell is the danger always lurking. The city is always under attack: orcs, crag cats, giants. Though citizens have their army, they don't mind paying adventurers rather than risking their own people.

"Bracelets! Rings! Necklaces! All of the finest copper and silver!" A dwarf shows you his goods, "Take a look, traveler!"

You look disinterested as you take a look at the jewelry, shrugging at the selection.. You can wear silver things, but Astarion won't talk to you anymore if you put on something like that. Meanwhile copper... He would find it dull.

"No, not interested."

"This is copper of the best quality! Will last for generations!"

You chuckle. There is a very popular joke about things made by dwarves. They think humans are dumb to buy something that lasts only for four generations. Forgetting that the human generation lasts less than a century.

"Look at these bronze rings. They are engraved with protective runes!"

The ring is simple. but there is something elegant, something powerful about it. You look at the runes - "protection", "love", and "safety".

"I will take this one", you say.

"Oh no," the dwarf laughs. "This is a wedding ring, you need two. Unless there are more people involved."

And before you manage to object, both rings are placed in your palm.

And why in nine hells did you decide to buy them?

You've never discussed marriage with Astarion. Boundaries? Traumas? Feelings? Yes. Sometimes, you talk about the future. But such things as marriage never came to your mind.

You have no idea what he thinks about it. You have no idea what you think about it.

But now you have two wedding rings in your pocket. Dwarven bronze will last for centuries.

You look around, trying to notice the familiar silver curls. Astarion has gone to see the ocean at sunset, and you agreed to meet in the city at midnight.

“Darling, there is something utterly nightmarish about a dark cold ocean."

You refused to go. Astarion is already dead - he can even swim there if he desires (the ocean isn't running water, so he will be fine). You, on the other hand, want to keep this heart beating.

Suddenly, a drunk man blocks your way.

"Leave me alone," you mutter, putting a hand on your dagger hidden below the cloak.

"Why is a beautiful woman alone? It's a sin to be on your own at the Winter Solstice."

You step back. The man is much bigger than you, but he can barely stand on his feet. If you were out of the city, you could snatch your dagger - but within the walls, fighting isn't wise.

"So, what d'ya think, pretty girl?" he reaches out for your chin, but before his dirty hand touches your skin, the man is pulled away from you.

"Hands away from my wife", Astarion hisses. "Or I will turn you inside out and feed the crag cats!"

The man recoils. "I-I beg your pardon, didn't know she is... taken."

"Fuck off," Astarion is quiet, but you know - one false move and the vampire will rip his throat.

The man stumbles and walks away as fast as he can. “Thanks”, you mutter, still feeling scared. "How was the ocean?"

"Dark. Cold. Frightening," He wraps his hand around your waist and tugs you closer. There is something possessive in this gesture. You don't mind. "Come on, we have the longest night ahead!"

You shiver. Night plans are set in stone. Astarion cherishes the nights when he can walk freely and see the world not hiding in shadows, and he rarely wants to walk alone. Besides, you already abandoned him when he went to the seashore. You can't leave him alone again for the rest of the night.

You walk through the city square. The songs are loud and lively, and the festive mood warms you up. Or maybe this is Astarion's presence. You plant a kiss on his cheek and notice he stiffens.

"Let's go somewhere less crowded," you suggest.

Maybe he is afraid people will notice he is a vampire. Maybe big crowds remind him of his hunting spots - who knows how many drunk idiots he would drag to their deaths during the same festivals.

You walk together in silence until the houses disappear. The winds howl like hungry wolves. The snow reaches up to your ankles.

Astarion kneels and you notice he tries to make a snowball but the snow crumbles in his hands.

"I see what you are doing," You say, "Don't you dare"

"I was just touching snow," He smiles innocently.

You put your hands deeper into the pockets and feel the bronze rings. Wedding rings.

"When that man approached me, you called me your wife."

Astarion turns away as if trying to see something in the distance. "Never mind, just slipped off my tongue."

"Why did you call me that?"

"I am sorry to have offended you with such vulgar words."

"That’s not what I mean. Just weird, considering we have never officiated anything."

"Do you want me to kidnap a cleric and make him marry us? I don't know... I just... " he sighs. "We sleep together. You care about me, and I care about you. I want to be with you until your mortal days are over or until I am killed by some monster hunter."

"And how long have you seen me as your wife?"

He shrugs. "The night in the graveyard, when I realized I'd never truly experienced real lovemaking? When you found me in that cellar, hiding from the sun, and kissed away my fears and pain? One of those nights when I woke you up, screaming, and you held me until the nightmare finally let me go? What about you? Have you ever thought about me as your husband?"

"I mentally married you when you tried to slice my throat. But, I realized you were mine when I noticed you standing between me and danger for the first time,” You say, stepping closer to your love.

“So, what now?" he asks.

You grin, playfully pushing Astarion into the snow. He either expects that or simply decides to play along.

You straddle Astarion, taking in his expression. He smiles - a very rare joyful smile when he doesn't try to pretend or to laugh things away. It's the real him you saw for the first time on his grave. It's the real him you see in the darkness of the tent when he thinks you are still asleep. The real him who somehow survived his own death.

"What are you up to, little pet?" he grins.

You snatch the rings from your pocket, quickly taking his left hand.

"Will you marry me?"

You wait for his reaction. Sometimes even the most sincere forms of affection cause him mental pain, and he locks himself inside the shell. Once, he couldn't bring himself to talk to you because you tried to force him to stay inside the tent during a snowstorm.

Maybe it's too much, you think, ready to let him go. It's not like he doesn't like being dominated by you, but it depends on his mood.

"How could I say no?" He grins, allowing you to put the ring on.

You giggle like a little girl, leaning down to kiss him.

"There is supposed to be a second one," He notices when you pull away.

You give him the other ring, and he graciously takes your hand. Before putting the ring on it, he kisses your wrist and pierces it a bit with his fangs.

You sit like that for a while, looking at each other. Gods, does he even know how truly beautiful he is?

Your love. Your man. Your husband.

The winds howl again, and you shiver.

"Seldarine. Why didn't you tell me you are so cold?"

"Didn't want to ruin the longest night for you."

"Really? So you decided to ruin the next two weeks for me because you will get sick, and I will have to take care of you?” he chuckles. “Besides, we are married now, and I don't have any excuse to leave you!"

"Oh, I would never think I was such a burden to my husband!" you pout.

The next moment you are in his hands. You love being carried like that, especially knowing you are weightless to him.

"You are the most insufferable sweet burden I've ever wished to have, my little wife," he kisses you. "I suggest we return to the inn and consummate our marriage."

You giggle again and wrap your hands around his neck.

"As long as you offer me a hot bath as a wedding gift."

"It absolutely can be arranged, my dear!"

Nightal ("The Drowing Dawn") - the last month of the year. Winter Soltice is celebrated on Nightal, 20.

Firesheer - a mining city in the Frozenfar in northwest Faerûn

Seldarine (Elven) - Gods

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

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callmelyc · 2 months

Text

You can't really do much for Valentine's in space, especially if your boyfriend is on the other side of the Universe with the BoM.

No one says a word as Lance mopes through the castle. His messages to Keith were left on read, everyone else was too busy, and not even the mice were willing to spare him a stray moment of comfort.

So here Lance is, wandering around aimlessly sulking to himself dramatically. No one else seemed to know nor care what day it was, hell he only knew bc he happened to glance at the earth calendar Pidge made.

Not that is really mattered. Valentine's Day wasn't exactly a holiday people did a whole lot for if they weren't dating, but it made Lance miss Keith all the more.

A couples holiday Lance was sure Keith wasn't even aware of, spent alone in the castle halls on a slow day.

Oh woe is he.

Slowly but surely Lance realizes his feet carry him in a familiar direction. The path so ingrained that even when he yearns for a Keith that isn't there his feet will lead him straight to the other man's door.

Lance pauses before it, contemplating his options.

How pathetic. How rude. He is stronger than this! He's a bad bitch he doesn't need no man! He can totally survive without Keith!

. . .

Lance enters the room.

Simply walking in and existing in Keith's space makes Lances shoulders ease. He hates to admit how much he misses his boyfriend because Lance knows it hurts him when he does. Yet now he's alone looking at everything this man owns wishing he was here by his side.

He takes his time brushing fingers over the growing collection of photos and trinkets they'd finally managed to get Keith to agree to. They say cozily on the side table right in the entry way for him to look at every time he came and went. It had taken time to get the samurai to realize he was allowed to hold onto something no matter how small it may seem.

It started with a picture, a photo of the entire team on one rare day spent together between missions. From there his collection grew with gifts, trinkets, memories he could think back on with love. All gathered by his hands, all heartfelt gifts from the team, from his family.

Lance smiles softly at every single one. It's all proof that Keith was here, proof that he will return, proof that he considered this home.

It's when Lance lays down clutching a jacket Keith left behind that he realizes how special it is to have this space to see while he's gone. He has Keith's space to move in while Keith likely has nothing....

He makes a mental note to gather things to brighten up Keith's blade bunk, maybe it'll help brighten everyone's bunk. Lance has never been inside but he bets it's bland in there. Would Kolivan even allow such a thing? Lance doesn't care if he doesn't, he'll send Keith with things anyways! Maybe if he gathers enough things the whole of the blade can decorate their ship to be a little less doom and gloom–

Through all his thinking Lance tosses and turns in Keith's bed, rolling in his scent that lingers faintly in his absence. He'd be embarrassed but no one was there to judge him. Keith wouldn't ever know and neither would the team and even if they did Lance thinks he has a fair claim to Keith's room. It's his duty as his boyfriend to wallow in his absence! Lance is but a wife awaiting her husband to return from war....only, they're both at war...and–well, that's not the important part.

Lance squirms attempting to get his mind off the schematics. All his dramatics shuffle the blankets and pillows they'd both collected there for prime cuddle time, then, something pokes at Lances back.

He huffs, annoyed that something would dare cause discomfort during his time of pain and suffering.

When he flips over to look at the offending object he sees the sharp corner of an envelope folded up, it peeks just from under the pillow pile innocent in its appearance as if it always belonged there.

Lance slides it free, looking it over carefully only to find his name on the front.

It says nothing else so he opens it to pull free the folded paper inside.

Where would Keith even find paper in space? Not that it's the paper they were used to it's far too thick and oddly velvety but it's a novelty nonetheless.

He unfolds it. It's dated at the top to a time before Keith left and written like an old letter, not one too terribly long but it's even signed off like one you'd see in movies.

No one wrote letters anymore yet Keiths handwriting stares back at him so clearly.

Dear Lance,

I don't know when you'll find this and I don't know when I'll be back so I thought I'd leave something behind just in case. Hopefully you're reading this on Valentine's Day so that if we spend it apart you aren't without a symbol of my love to you.

Lance reads through the words like a dying man in the desert. He doesn't even make it halfway through the letter before the tears start to fall. Keith is so incredibly thoughtful when given the chance to show it and here's the proof right in Lances hands. The man had made sure Lance would know he was his Valentine because he knew how much Lance loved the silly holiday. It's so stupidly sweet itales Lances heart ache for him.

He writes the things he loves about Lance, he writes the way he feels when he looks at him. Keith writes like he's pouring his heart and soul into the papers pulp. As if he's allowing for Lance to hold his heart in his hands.

It's single handedly the most romantic gesture has ever received.

"Stupid...." Lance sniffles "I didn't get to send you off with any proof that I feel the same." He dries his eyes as to not get the paper wet before continuing to read.

You thanked me once, saying you were grateful to have met me, but all I could think was that I should be the one whose thanking you.

You changed my life, Lance. I should be the one thanking you, god, the entirety of the universe- whoever it is that needs to hear it- because I am thankful to have known you in this lifetime. I am thankful to know I will go the rest of my life with memories of you.

I never knew I was capable of love like this. It had always been imaginary before you. I love you Lance McClain, more than you'll ever know.

If your dream is to fly then mine is to watch you soar, to watch you smile,to watch you get everything I can possibly give to you because you deserve the world...no, the universe and if I could gift it to you I would on a silver platter. But, for now this letter will have to be enough, hopefully you can accept that for now sweetheart.

Happy valentines day, know I am always thinking of you.

-Keith K.

Lance immediately grabs his com-device, he doesn't care if Keith will leave him on read, doesn't care if that bastard won't pick up. He doesn't go to pour out his feelings just yet, no, he'll do that to Keith's stupid romantic face, but he does send him a warning.

Sharpshooter: If you don't come back soon I will hunt you down myself

It's marked read not long after. A brief . . . blinks before vanishing.

Samurai: Happy valentines day to you too Lance.

He blinks down at Keith's response, at the first response Lance has gotten from him in days.

"That son of a bitch!"

Nothing else he sends gains a response, every single message marked with that annoying little read checkmark.

OH. Now it's on! Lance thinks to himself as he begins to plot his revenge.

He will not be out romanced and if Keith thinks he knows what's coming? He hasn't the faintest clue.

Happy Valentines Day! 💘

#voltron #vld #lance vld #lance mcclain #vld lance #klance #keith kogane #keith x lance #keith voltron #i love the idea of lance being mopy and dramatic #and keith being able to better convey his feelings in writing #lance has his own plans for Keith he planned MONTHS in advance #keith panicked before leaving on his blade mission bc he realized where valentines would fall #he knew lance would mope around in his room so he just hoped hed find it on actual Valentine's day #he got lucky #if yall want a lance ver for lances plotting lmk i can do a part two

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thedreadvampy · 10 months

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I find Americans talking about religion fascinating because they think the weird pentecostal/evangelical eschatology cults are Normal Christianity and not like. a really specific thing.

and that is by no means to say Christianity elsewhere is less fucked up but it's different.

like Americans will say stuff like "like most Christians, this cult believes we're in the end times and have to reclaim Zion to bring about Revelations, but what's weird about their beliefs is..." and it's like???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN LIKE MOST CHRISTIANS?????

like Scotland's still a pretty Christian country. some of the biggest sociopolitical divides are Christian sectarianism. we got Presbyterians we got Catholics we got Episcopalians we got Quakers (hi) we got Baptists and Methodists and Jehovah's Witnesses and so on. half of the population are Christian. but I don't think I have ever met more than a handful of people whose Christian belief is focused on Revelations and the end times. that's weird stuff my guys.

my outside appraisal of American Christianity is that it looks really very samey. there doesn't seem to be a lot of significant theological difference, or tbh aesthetic difference, between a good number of the major churches. worship practise, structure, and the focus on sin, evangelism and apocalypse seem to be way more common threads there than in Europe. and I feel like people grow up in that and think that means all Christianity is the same as that. which like. it isn't.

A lot of folks I know who've been to American Quaker communities, for example, have been really surprised at how much some Meetings in the US are cramming into the same episcpentamethodbaptitradcathevangelist church model - fire and brimstone preachers, our god is a great big god songs, focus on end times prophecy - and it just doesn't. line up with the degree of diversity in practise and focus for different Christian sects in most other parts of the world. where like. those types of churches also exist (the evangelical born-again rapture and damnation churches) but they're one approach among many.

and again that's not cause like. Christianity is only bad in the US and not bad anywhere else. Christianity does a lot of social good and a looooooot of social harm everywhere. but it's wild what Americans, Christian or otherwise, seem to take as the baseline beliefs of global Christianity. like I went to a Church of England school and I don't believe I was ever taught about Revelations, let alone the rapture or young earth ideology or biblical literalist creationism, except, eventually, as a thing some other people believe and it's weird. when the young earth creationists came into my secondary school to prostyletize it was a bloodbath cause every 14 year old in that room was like "what r u talking about m8 that's cult shit".

what I'm saying is: there's not a huge amount of universal Christian beliefs across all sectors except like "God is there. There's some Bible which contains some amount of spiritual value for some amount of literal interpretation. Jesus? Pretty great and important guy. Probably the son of God or actually God or some secret third thing." and everything else there's some dissent on. but of the things that are broadly though not fully universal - maybe like heaven, hell, sin, redemption through faith or deed, the resurrection, a physical/spiritual divide, prayer, some key holidays etc - I don't think that 'weirdly intense eschatology involving reclaiming Zion, global warfare, the Antichrist, decades of torturous end times, physical rapture etc' is in that mix. that's your country's weird thing that it's since exported through cultural colonialism, just like Christianity itself was largely exported through European cultural colonialism.

#red said

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ladywaffles · 3 months

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Mav and Rooster for #13, please!

mav & rooster + nudging the other one

i still do not know the meaning of brevity. send me a pairing and a prompt!

It should be a joyous occasion.

The prodigal son has returned home. Neither he nor Maverick died on their mission from hell. Ice, with his non-existent immune system, survived a lower respiratory infection, which turned out to be pneumonia, which nearly went septic. None of them managed to start World War Three, despite the fact they were all grasping at straws by the end of it.

And yet…

Maverick, Ice, and Bradley sit gathered around the dining table. It’s the same table Bradley remembers from his childhood, pockmarked with Sharpie stains, key scratches, and one notable gash from the summer Ice taught him how to properly use a steak knife.

They’ve all taken their usual seats: Ice at the head of the table, Maverick to his left, and Bradley to his right. When his mother was still alive, she would flit between sitting next to Maverick and Bradley on a whim. She’d always say she never could choose between her two boys.

Dinner is on the table in front of them. Maverick pulled out all the stops and made a spread fit for a holiday party. A rib roast, roasted potatoes, garlic green beans, and a slice of coconut cake for each of them from Ellen’s Diner across town.

They sit in stilted silence, looking at each other. Ice is glaring at Maverick. Maverick is staring at Bradley. Bradley is resolutely trying not to make eye contact with Maverick. He does not dare look in Ice’s direction; Ice is the Iceman after all, and he can feel Ice’s cold gaze from his own chair, thank you very much.

Ice taps his fingers on the table. Bradley’s learned, in the weeks since he came home, that it’s how Ice gets Maverick’s attention so he can sign. Maverick does not look at Ice at all, continuing to have a one-man Western showdown with Bradley.

Bradley trains his eyes on the table. He can just barely make out the outline of his sophomore year campaign posters for student government, if he squints. He’d tried new markers that year, in hopes of sparing the poor table more Sharpie stains, but the ink bled straight through the poster board and settled into the wood, permanently.

Ice taps the table again.

Maverick raises his eyebrows at Bradley, then kicks his ankle under the table.

Ice signs Maverick’s name, adapted from the sign for pilot: a sideways I-love-you with the fingers facing out like bull horns, and each hand forming an M instead of the normally straight palms. Maverick kicks him under the table again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bradley sees Ice look up to the heavens, as if to ask for divine intervention to get Maverick to behave. Bradley bites the inside of his cheek. Ice knows better than anyone that Maverick lives up to his name. He might have mellowed out some with age, but he’s still Maverick at heart.

The F-14 that’s currently parked at North Island should be more than enough evidence of that.

Ice clears his throat and opens his mouth.

“Don’t!” Maverick whips his head to Ice. “The doctors said five more days before you try to talk again!”

Ice raises one perfect eyebrow, as if to say, Gotcha.

“Ice wouldn’t do that,” Bradley fills in, the words muttered under his breath. “He’s not stupid.”

Maverick kicks him again, but Ice looks pleased. At least one of you has some goddamn sense in this house, he seems to say. He feels the air moving as Mav winds his leg back, but he’s getting wise to his old man’s tricks, so Bradley beats him to the punch and sends the toe of his shoe straight into Maverick’s ankle.

Maverick smiles, a glint in his eye. Before he can act, Ice grabs both of their wrists.

The message is clear: knock it off.

“He started it,” Bradley says, throwing Mav under the bus.

“I did not!”

Ice rolls his eyes. They all know very well who started it.

“Why are you kicking me?” Bradley asks.

“Because when I went with you to get the replacement parts for the Bronco last weekend, you said you’d ask Ice what you told me when we had dinner this week.”

Ice turns to look at Bradley head on. He might be almost forty years old now, but sitting in his chair at this dining table from his childhood, with Ice’s full attention trained on nothing but him, makes him feel like a naughty teenager again.

“Oh, yeah,” he says sheepishly, glaring at Maverick as he does. “Yeah, I did say that, huh.” Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Mav.

Maverick only smiles. I give as good as I get, kiddo.

“Well, you know I’m rotating back Stateside for my next deployment, and I was wondering… Well, I wanted to ask…”

He bites his tongue. Why is it so hard to ask this of Maverick and Ice, the two men who raised him? His parents, for all intents and purposes?

“That is, base housing sucks. And I’ve still got Mom’s house, but I’ve been meaning to get the carpet ripped out and new floors put in for literal years now, and if I’m gonna do that, then I might as well get around to all the other updates and renovations I’ve been meaning to do for literal years now, and—”

“Bradley wants to know if he can move back in for a few months while he gets the house fixed up,” Maverick cuts him off.

Ice huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, you old geezers,” he sulks. He’s sure they enjoyed his squirming. It was probably the highlight of their very boring week.

Ice reaches out and squeezes his hand. Yes, he mouths. Of course.

“Sucks to be you, Maverick,” Bradley says as he serves himself a generous helping of potatoes. Ice tries to hide his smile in his own plate, but he isn’t fast enough.

Maverick smiles. “See? I told you! What did I say? Come on, let’s eat.”

Ice glares at Maverick again. He signs something that Bradley can’t translate for himself yet, but he’s been in the hot seat with Ice enough to know that Maverick is not even close to off the hook for whatever it was that Ice wanted to talk about.

Maverick scowls at them both, and then kicks him under the table. Again.

#top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #ask #lamby.prompt #starrybouquet #thank you for the ask!

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thewriterg · 1 year

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♡︎𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫?♡︎

Pairing(s): Jess Mariano x Afab!reader, Jess Mariano x Rory Gilmore

Summary: Jess was your escape for a long time especially with your sister being the towns golden girl but then he gets very up tight and personal about who you talk to I mean you aren’t even together. Right?

Word count: 600+

Request: PLEASEE do a jealous/possessive jess mariano imagine —anon

Warning(s): Jealousy, arguments, mention of violence, and Language

A/n:—GIFs aren’t mine— Happy Thanksgiving/Holidays! I Hope i can put out another story today based off the holiday but no promises very busy day today stay safe and eat good Writers!

Jess blocked a lot of things out of his mind that included your sister Rory Gilmore twisting her hair and batting her eyelashes at him while he worked behind the counter of his uncle’s restaurant as his eyes darted to the clock

The past four times he had looked you had at least twenty minutes until you were let out of school you were switching to Chilton soon and Jess was still trying to fighter out how to deal with the fact

He walked through the court his semi smile he didn’t realize he had on his face dropping when the sight of you and some guy talking to each other caused his jaw to clench

You were handing him something a folder it looked like and before Jess could intervene the guy was already walking away giving you a wave which you returned happily a little too happy for Jess’s liking

You turned around meeting eyes with Jess before you slowly jogged over to him with a bright smile on your face before you came I to contact with his chest wrapping your arms around his waist

“That guy you were talking to, who is he?” Jess questioned interrupting you before you could even begin your sentence as you furrowed your brows retrieving your head from the comfort of his soft band Tee at the hostility in his voice and you suddenly realized how stiff he was under your touch before you dropped your arms to your sides

“He’s just a new friend, whats up with you?” You questioned your head tilted as you looked up at the brunette

“Why was he talking to you?”

“He was asking for some notes he missed Jess. Why does it matter?” You took a full step back now Jess not being the only one tense as you both stood in the middle of the court yard most students already starting their ways on their destination

“He only wants to put his grubby little hands on you like the rest of the guys in this town” Jess stated in a matter of fact tone before you scoffed turning on you heels and beginning to walk away

“You know I’m right Y/n that’s why you’re so damn mad” Jess was hot on your heels to the point you couldn’t even turn around without bumping into him

“Does he even have a girlfriend?” At that you stopped in your tracks you weren’t even together so why the hell should he even care?

“Why do you care!?” You turned around sharply and if It weren’t for Jess having a decent balance you both would’ve went tumbling over You didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh but Jess was testing your patience

“Why were you so jealous when me and Shane kissed at the fair!?” He shot back at you before you could start to walk away again

“Jealous!? You don’t even exist to me!” You found yourself shouting at the brunette jabbing your a finger into his chest the townspeople sparing you both whispering glances and if he were surprised his face sure did nothing to show it

“You’re mine and you know it Y/n. If I see that punk talking to you again you won’t recognize him the next time you see him” Jess had grabbed your wrist as it thrashed against his hold not enough to hurt you but it was still firm to get his point across

“Did that make you feel better huh? Go somewhere and fuck yourself Jess.” You seethed before successfully snatching your hand away from his hold storming off

Jess decided against following you giving you a chance to clear your head before he turned on his heel walking the other way deep down you knew you both belonged to each other it was just a matter of time before you stopped denying it

#jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #rory gilmore #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #fem!reader #romance #fluff #i love you #whiskmeaway #thewriterg

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belovedstill · 8 months

Text

emoji writing prompts

(inspired by this post)

96 prompts up to your interpretation. take literally, reverse, mix and match! (works well with taking ask suggestions, using random number generators, or rolling dice)

1-6 genre or tone:

🥰 fluff

💔 angst | sad ending | angst with a happy ending

🔞 smut | explicit | suggestive

🔍 mystery

🎃 spooky | horror

😎 crack | humor | meme inspired

+ 1-90 prompts:

🌸 hanahaki | pining | mutual pining

✉ epistolary | chat fic | letters | postservice au

🧙‍♂️ magic | urban magic | fantasy | be careful what you wish for

☕ coffee shop | restaurant | food industry

🩹 hurt/comfort | fix-it fic

💭 mind-melt | mind-reading | telepathy

🏳‍🌈 queer | queerer | unique queer experience relevant to exactly one person

🌊 merfolk au | stranded on an abandoned island | pirates

🍀 everything goes right | luck doesn't exist but somebody really does make it seem like it does

🥀 unrequited love | dealing with loss | grief

📆 slice of life

📦 delivery | package sent to the wrong address | swapped luggage/suitcase | there's some kind of mix-up happening | move in

🎬 celebrity | actor | PR hell | youtuber | streamer au

💻 internet | social media | bloggers | fandom au | two customers with radically different reviews on a product and they take it personally

🔪 revenge | murder | assassin

🩺 doctor | sick fic

⚽ sports | team | competition | challenge | dare

💋 first kiss | first relationship | first romantic experience | teaching one another how to Romance

🎨 any artist au

🤰 pregnancy | mpreg | alternative offspring acquisition options

👥 resurrection | came back wrong | dark alternate character | came back right but everything else is changed

🦋 butterfly effect - change a seemingly insignificant detail in source material and write how it affects the story

😈 demon | a different kind of hell | pact | soul as acceptable transaction payment | the villain's in charge now

🤡 idiots in love | platonic buffoons | only one brain cell among them | they're so stupid

🏳️ surrender | hope | bargaining

❔ oblivious | didn't know they were dating | mistaken identity | amnesia | nobody remembers them

🛡️ protect | guardian | bodyguard | rescue

💼 office | workplace

✂️ separation, chosen or forced | abandoned | cutting ties

🎓 school | university | academic professions | mentor

🏠 domestic | roommates | neighbours

🧩 soulmates (ideas) | platonic soulmates | destined to be enemies | 3+ soulmates

🏖️ beach episode | change of scenery | more than 'a lot' self-indulgent

🏩 pwp | escort | sex worker | stripper | sugar relationship

🤝 found family | putting differences aside to work together

🧬 appearance/body/behaviour modification | shrunk down | made bigger

💾 found a lost disc/usb drive/notebook/diary | lost phone | decades-old journal/letters found among the belongings of a person who's no longer there

⚙️ android | futuristic | science fiction | physical workers | making it work

⚠️ make it as messed up as you want | forbidden | taboo

🕳️ something is missing | unsettling | out of the corner of the eye | nearly, almost, not quite | not enough

✨ under a spell | truth compulsion | forced to say the opposite of what they mean | a curse made them do x

🐌 slowburn | sped-up slow burn | over the years

🧸 childhood friends (to a dynamic of choice) | separated in childhood, reunited in adulthood

⚔ enemies (to a dynamic of choice) | meddling enemies | rivals (to a dynamic of choice)

🔁 transmigration | isekai | swapped places | role reversal | body swap

🔀 crossover | fusion | characters from X piece of media put in the world of the last piece of media you've enjoyed | make it your favourite piece of media from your childhood

⁉ miscommunication | misunderstanding | wrong place, wrong time

🔆 harem | reverse harem | poly relationship

🛏 bedsharing | accidentally falling asleep on one another | passing out | dream-sharing | invite to stay over

🔮 fairytale | mythology | folklore | legend | prophecy

😶 love triangle | two-person relationship/love triangle (they know each other as two people) | one-night stand turns out to be the new boss/professor/awkward dynamic

🔒 forced proximity | locked in a room | trapped together | handcuffed together | snowed in

🤲 huddling for warmth | sharing body heat | touch starved

💬 rumours | lies | misconceptions and dealing with them

💥 set off the (conflict) bomb | right before the blow-up | argument | fight | pranks

✊ superheroes and supervillains | superpowers | the chosen one(s) | deemed to be the cursed/unlucky one

💁‍♀️ spite fic (write literally anything you like that fandom/somebody else complained about that you disagree with) aka "they're wrong and i'm going to keep having fun"

#️⃣ love at second/third/nth sight | meet ugly | annoyed at first sight | reluctant

🖤 blind date goes right | blind date goes wrong | stood up | matchmaker

🚗 travelling together | commute | road trip | hitchiking

❕ confession | interrupted confession | confessing when it doesn't matter anymore

🚫 getting what they want but not in the way they want it | not like this

🖊 doomed from the start | it was always going to end like this | it didn't have to end this way

🐱‍👤 did a crime on accident | did a crime very much not on accident

👭 doppelgangers, lookalikes | twins | they meet their alternate self from an alternate word/different time

👂 as they go through their day, they hear a voice and it's strangely familiar (oh no) | the voice in their head actually has their best interest in mind | two souls trapped in one body fighting for control

❌ the plot is trying to incite an event for them but they refuse to have any part in it and they will outrun it

🍸 alcohol/substance use | in vino veritas | choices were made and all that's left is regrets | choices were made and there are some gains actually | remembers nothing of what they did while drunk (others may be kind enough to spare no detail)

👍 support group | dealing with issues | compromise

82. 👪 meet the family | meet the friends 83. 💰 CEO | rich x ordinary | two different worlds collide 84. 🌠 rarepair! | rarer! | unlikely friends 85. ⚡ The Realisation | oh moment | oh no moment | learning something crucial yet horrifying they wish they could forget | the antagonist was right after all 86. 0️⃣ last day alive | apocalypse | they truly only have each other left 87. ✔ it was somebody's plan all along | they sure were aware the whole time it was somebody's plan all along | scheme | trap | gotcha | test 88. 🎲 choose an action for character to take and roll d20 - that's how well it goes, write it 89. ➕ anything at all inspired by an emoji not from this list sent in an ask or randomly generated 90. ® get a string of 3+ random emojis from an emoji generator (e.g. this one or this one or any other) and write a story based on them

if you're disappointed that a prompt you wanted to find isn't on the list, take it as a sign to write it 👀

and if none of these spark creativity, check out Hatch's Plot Bank with 2300+ plot ideas

screenshots of the emojis under the cut

#prompts #writing prompts #emoji prompts #m #long post

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hankwritten · 1 year

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Enargeia

Day 3: CREATE (Texas Toast)

When they first joined BLU, Pyro thought it couldn’t get any better than this. New friends! Other new friends who they were allowed to set on fire! Basically all the rainbows they could manage without having to worry about that normal, everyday stuff like finding their next meal or stealing candy from convenience stores. Just work that they loved and a blank cheque to do it.

Yet, they can’t deny there’s something nice about living with Engie too. On weekends, those two long, bitter days when there’s no work at the battlefields and they have to entertain themself by lighting up in the pits or the fireplace (which Engie had specially installed for them since New Mexico homes don’t come with fireplaces), they actually find they’re alright with the concept of downtime. Something about Engie…he makes what would be boring simply…peaceful. Even on the rare occasion BLU gives them a holiday, and the painful two-days become excruciating three-days, they find they don’t mind so much as long as Engie is setting the schedule. He makes breakfast (eggs with bacon in a smiley face, or pancakes shaped like hearts) into an event. Going to sleep (which Pyro hates with a passion, will run themself ragged until four in the morning rather than lie down and try to make their brain go quiet) has become strictly regimented in an early-to-bed-early-to-rise sort of way. It’s actually shocking how much having a normal sleep schedule and regular meals will do for you.

That, plus having something non-work/non-fire related to set themself to, which isn’t really Engie’s doing but he was their inspiration. Between the moments spent with one another—be that meals or the much beloved story time—Engie occupies himself in his at-home workshop. Pyro watches from time to time, delighted how he loses himself in the not-quite-work-not-quite-hobby, enthralled with how things simply spring to existence under his palms.

The ranch is really to thank for their sudden fecundity. They were resistant, at first, when Miss Pauling “““encouraged””” them to move off-base and Engie kindly offered his home, but it fits them well. They want to make this place fit. They’ve even taken it upon themself to go fix up the old fence on the north side, and to learn enough engineering to tinker with the refrigerator since Engie keeps saying he’ll get to it but never does.

However, it’s not quite enough.

“I want to paint the side of the barn,” they tell Engie one day.

He looks up from the mini-dispenser that's been in development hell for months now. “Really? Sure it’s been a few years, but it’s not like it’s chippin’ yet.”

“Not as in painting all one color. As in paint something. Like a mural.” They glance out the window. “I want to make something. The way you do.”

“Hm,” Engie says. “I suppose I do have a couple of buckets lying ‘round the shop…”

They set to it that afternoon.

The buckets slop and occasionally spill with Pyro’s excitement, the brush thick with each swipe. They can feel the power of creation within them, and they begin to shape a sunrise on the barn’s bright and bare wall. Engie loans them a ladder, and stops by every hour or so, watching something beautiful come to be.

Pyro pours their heart and soul into it. They love until they have calluses through their gloves.

And when it’s done, it looks like utter shit.

“Oh I don’t think it’s that bad, darl,” Engie assures them.

“It’s hideous,” they mourn.

What was supposed to be a combination of yellows and oranges runs into the blue in a brown muck. The rainbow which they’ve thrown over the scene is wobbly and super crooked now that they step back.

“It looked so different in my head,” they say. “But when I tried to make it real it just came out all wrong.”

“Have you ever painted anything before, Py?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have started with something so big for your first ever project. Making things takes time, and a bit of practice. You start with a potato clock and work your way up to the wristwatch.”

“I’m just so tired of things not staying. When I make fire, it’s beautiful, but then it’s gone right away.” Their shoulders droop. “Sometimes it feels like destroying rather than creating.”

Engie thinks for a minute.

“Come to the workshop for a moment, darling. I wanna show you something.”

Dragging their feet, they follow him inside. The great space of the barn-turned workshop is warm despite its ravenousness, machines in low power mode gently beeping and throwing off heat. He guides them to one of the out of the way tables, clearing a space and rustling up a torchlike device from his piles of scrap.

“This here is a woodburner.”

“Anyone can be a wood burner.”

He chuckles. But then he guides their hands, showing them step by step how to work the small device, standing behind them while they carve a small unicorn out of a piece of wood using only a flame.

“It’s still ugly,” they complain.

“Sure is.” He sets the unicorn, which is just a mangled horse shape since Pyro accidentally chopped off the horn, on one of his tool shelves. “But now you’ve gone and given it a try. Now the next one you make will be a little better. And a little better after that.”

“That’s going to take so looonnngggg….”

“True. But I’ll be here keeping you company.”

That won’t be so bad then. They pick up the torch again, and as Engie settles in, they resolve to prove that fire can make just as well as it can unmake.

#dnadvalentines2023 #engiepyro #texastoast #tf2 fanfiction

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ultraericthered · 27 days

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Winnie The Pooh: Blood and Honey 2 (really Winnie The Pooh: Blood and Honey Take 2, For Real This Time!), AKA Where The Bloody Honey Was THIS Last Year???

I’ve not seen this yet but I, as sincere and dedicated a fan of Winnie The Pooh as you’ll ever find, made it no secret how much I loathed last year’s so-called Pooh horror flick (which I did not even actually watch and never will), thinking it an abomination purely because it didn’t have the stones or the vision to actually go all in with what it promised and instead gave us random ass generic slashers in bad rubber Pooh and Pig masks killing screaming girls and tormenting a useless “Christopher Robin” and his fiancé, with a Pooh-related backstory tacked on at the beginning and then never followed through on with what the movie actually delivered on screen. Had the film embraced the absurd camp horror in the very concept of the Hundred Acre Wood gang as feral predators, I’d have respected it. I’m far from alone in thinking this too: the film won the Worst Picture Razzie award for 2023 for a reason. It was garbage in its purest form.

So then this “sequel”, which I was not anticipating and was feeling I’d rather ignore, comes out and actually gives us exactly that! Like, what the Hell? This movie isn’t just doing what its predecessor ought to have been all about doing from the get-go, it even does what the 2022 Grinch-themed holiday slasher The Mean One failed at as well! It improves on what came before through two things: being competently made in all areas (like, it actually has a significant budget this time around), and actually taking some real twisted joy and fun in its reimagining of Milne lore and what can be done with that. Suddenly, Christopher Robin is a major player in the story and a psychologically distraught man played by a different, better actor. Pooh and Piglet now actually resemble mutant animal people instead of human killers in masks and they’re properly motivated in their killing. Tigger appears as a very Freddy Krueger-esque murderous maniac who puts his “bouncy” style of killing to great use. And good lord, Owl is a badass, terrifying menace who really makes the horror of the story work while still not losing his own morbid humor. And that throwaway backstory from before? Thrown away! In its place is a much stronger one that serves as perhaps the darkest possible medium answer to the age old “so are they real sentient critters or stuffed animals that Christopher only imagines are real?” question. And how it manages to get away with all this is perhaps the one area of pure genius that the film has got. Tellingly, the screenplay was written by an actual script writer this time rather than the hack director, and both this writer and the producer came up with the remedy for the disaster that was the first film: its events did not truly occur in this universe. In-universe, what was turned out last year was a cheap, low budget, schlocky horror film based on the real Christopher Robin’s account of a massacre he’d survived out in the woods, with that film lazily misrepresenting what had actually happened and what he’d actually experienced when it did. By having the first Blood and Honey exist as exactly the godawful film that it is within this new cinematic universe, Blood and Honey 2 is giving us permission to pass on watching it and disregard it entirely, as it’s just a bastardization of the true story that actually matters to films starting with this one. You could not ask for a better saving throw than that!

Its core area of weakness, however, is the story itself and how it’s managed in terms of the film’s pace and tone. Maybe this would’ve played better if this had been what we got in early 2023, but since it instead has come after last year’s Five Nights At Freddy’s film adaptation, the similarities become impossible not to notice, complete with our main protagonist being haunted by childhood trauma and playing this dead straight even while off on the side there are absurd looking animals slaughtering people in ridiculous ways and being very tongue-in-cheek about it. It’s like the writer envisioned a plot to a serious horror/thriller film but applied it to this gleefully dumb, schlocky B movie horror campfest based on a beloved child-friendly property, and these things just don’t go together very well.

All things considered, this is a mediocre indie horror film based on famed A.A Milne stories and characters that revels in its own mediocrity and the gross, senseless, nonsensical novelty of its premise…and in being so, is a HUGE glow up from the first attempt at it, which was a complete nothing of a film offering nothing of value to any human being who could ever have the misfortune of watching it. This one at the very least delivers on what it promises to be and does so with far more confidence, competence, sincere passion and amusement than its predecessor. If we end up getting more Pooh horror films like this, I’d not mind giving them a look, though I doubt there’s anything they could do that’d really wow me or anyth…….

This is the start of a cinematic “Poohniverse” that will go full Avengers in crossing the films over? Okaaaay, that’s interes……

Heffalumps and Woozles confirmed for B&H3?!??!

#Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 2 #opinion #criticism #review #horror #surprisingly improved sequel #discontinuity

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electricbluebutterflies · 1 year

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and it always leads to you in my hometown

Post-canon-divergent Hellcheer... fluff-adjacent? Someone described this as a dark-chocolate kind of fluff so we're gonna go with that. PG-ish and also on ao3

It becomes a routine, in the way of such things.

Chrissy gets out of Hawkins, to the surprise of most people who know her, packs her important possessions ten days after graduation and leaves a note saying she’s going to try to start over in Chicago and makes sure to call home two days later to confirm she’s still alive. She finds a life for herself in the inner suburbs, gets a job as a secretary at a law firm, starts taking night classes to become a paralegal. Does okay, in the grand scheme of things. Calls her parents every other Thursday night like clockwork because family is still family, but tries to block out the voices in her head otherwise. Heals.

But she comes home for the holidays every year, because she’s still a nice girl even if she didn’t really keep in touch with anyone from high school. There’s still the obligation to remind people that she exists and is living a mundane but happy life, and no she isn’t seeing anybody but her dog’s real cute, and what may or may not have happened in spring ’86 matters less and less every winter.

She has routines. December 23 is one of them.

The thing about her leaving that didn’t make it into the local story was exactly who disappeared for three days that summer to help her, out of the goodness of his heart and a sense of obligation after she did almost die in his trailer a couple months earlier. They became friends after that, in a trauma-bonded opposites-attract sort of way, and by the time she realized her plans would be easier with a getaway driver it was a logical enough option. Eddie is good people under all his armor, Chrissy had learned by then, one of the most loyal people she’s ever known, and that too became a routine phone call, every Saturday around noon, only real thing tethering her to what hasn’t felt like home in years and-

He stayed, to the surprise of pretty much everyone who’s ever met him. He had a younger herd of misfits to supervise for a couple years, and before that project ended he tended bars across two counties and turned out that was enough of a life, and there are people who need him, and he never really was the sort of person who actually gets out of southern Indiana, and-

December 23 is their routine, a standing meetup at dusk at a particular park shelter. Not always the only time they ever see each other – the band came up to Chicago twice this past year for different gigs and he ended up on her couch both times because he didn’t feel like being crammed sardine-style in a cheap hotel room with the other guys – but the high point of her year if she’s honest with herself. Every year she waits for something to go wrong, for him not to show up or there to be a ring on his finger that wasn’t there last time or-

She looks different now, looks different since he came up back in August – a week or two after that she decided she needed a change and she wanted a haircut like Princess Diana, and wow was that a mistake, and it’s at an awkward stage of growing-out and there was no way in hell she would’ve been able to stuff all of that in a hat. Every year she’s a little more worried about how she looks, the genuine kind of worried not like she used to be when she thought that was all she had, more like…

Chrissy is, in her way, a little bit in love. Turns out she’s a bit of a loner if left to her own devices – she has a lot of acquaintances and does get out of her apartment enough, but no one really close – and if she has to be one cliché then let her be this one. Let her be the woman who never quite got over the high-school crush she never admitted. Let her be-

Eddie’s sense of time has never been reliable, and he’s a little late but not quite enough to worry her. He’s changed too, in little ways – she can’t remember ever seeing his hair pulled back but she knows that’s probably more practical than aesthetic, and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in a day or two longer than whatever his usual routine is and goodness she shouldn’t be thinking about yanking him down and-

“You’re here,” he says, and this is why she kinda loves him, the enthusiasm in how he approaches life, no false fronts just raw emotions at all times and no self-consciousness whatsoever.

“So are you.” She can feel herself blushing, and she’ll blame the cold for this, same explanation for her hands in her pockets because she’s not sure what kind of physical control she actually has right now. At least it isn’t snowing this year. At least-

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“What, you don’t have better plans?”

“I have my choice of burnt hams for the next few days. Tonight is all yours.”

The thing is, she’s not sure there was ever a time when they didn’t flirt like this, like there’s always that line they’ll go right up to but never cross. She knows he thinks she’s pretty in the most real way, and he’s been a nice daydream over the years, and-

He pulls her into a hug, and he smells like boy and home and she’s a little overwhelmed. “Keep waiting for you to cancel because you got some lawyer to put a ring on you,” he murmurs. “Can’t imagine they’d-“

“Lawyers aren’t my flavor,” she counters. “And you haven’t met some girl down here?”

“I’ve met too many girls,” he laughs, and she knows, there have been a few mistakes over the years that she got to talk down in the way only an out-of-state phone call can resolve. “Nothing stuck.”

She can’t hope. She does anyway.

Normal people, Chrissy tells herself, don’t do this. Normal people don’t linger in long-distance mutual pining for so many years because they’re too damn fragile to think about anything more. Normal people, like she’s trying so hard to be, don’t-

“Any reason for that?” she asks, and her breath catches and they’re both too close and not close enough for the conversation she suddenly needs to have right now.

“Thought you’d never ask. See, the timing keeps not being right, and who the hell am I to compete with a dog with a ridiculous name, and-“

“Excuse me, Peppermint is not-“

“So, you know. Waiting on the girl who got away is a little distracting.”

“I’m right here.”

“And you won’t be in four days.”

“You could come with. You didn’t complain about my couch last time, Peppermint likes you, and… you’re better than this.”

“What, and leave my empire?”

“Didn’t you always want to?”

He kisses the top of her head and they haven’t done that before and she wants to melt, and she feels so small and that’s nothing new but it’s always been safer like this than anywhere else. “You know how to make a proposition,” he says, and the delight in his voice is infectious. “No let’s take this slow, no let’s make out in the back of your car and see if that even works, no, you’re straight to-“

“I’m offering my couch,” she says, faking indignation. “Not my bed. Yet.”

“Exactly my point. Can’t imagine you’ve extended that offer to anyone else.”

“I’m not really in touch with anyone else from here.”

“That’s still amazing, you know that? Our former queen bee isn’t-“

“I wasn’t happy,” she points out. “That’s why I kept you. Because you make me happy.” Because none of those fake friends would’ve waited for two hours for an ambulance to show up, lied about her hitting her head on a piece of furniture because that was the best explanation they could come up with for what they didn’t understand, snuck in to visit her every day and charmed a few nurses in the process, made sure her hospital room was covered in probably-stolen flowers by the time she woke up and-

That’s the sort of experience that binds two people, and she’s spent the past seven and a half years thinking that might be the only reason he puts up with her, because he owes her after that, and… maybe that’s wrong. Maybe they’ve both always been more than this.

“Do I?”

“Yeah. Completely.”

She’s feeling impatient, and she gets her hands around his neck and pulls him down like she’s been wanting for minutes like she’s been wanting for years, and she’s kissed more people than she cares to admit but this is different. This is anticipation and awkwardness and the kind of love too many people told her she’d never actually get, and she wants to cry and she can’t cry while someone’s mouth is on hers so instead she sorta accidentally bites his lip and he makes a pretty noise and-

“You can’t just do that,” he breathes, still so very close. “Now I’m ruined for anyone else.”

“Maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want to keep you forever.”

They do, as usual, end up in the back of her car for warmth.

This year, it’s a lot more tactile warmth.

It’s a beginning. She’s never wanted anything more.

#ebf writes fic #hellcheer #edissy

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kirbyprompts · 1 year

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𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏) 𝐒𝟐𝐄𝟏 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

feel free to change the prompts as you see fit!

❝did you not get the moodboards i sent you?❞

❝you’re not going to college.❞

❝um, maybe you’re not hearing me. i’m starting over.❞

❝time for your next meeting.❞

❝i saw this crash coming. now you pulled me back in and i’m collateral.❞

❝the only reason that new years even exists is for the world to give us permission to try something new.❞

❝nothing can put me in a bad mood.❞

❝does anyone really believe this shit?❞

❝secrets just blow up in our faces.❞

❝right, because relationships always work out when you have to lie about them.❞

❝it’s just advice. do whatever you want.❞

❝just because something was public doesn’t mean it matters.❞

❝who are you without instagram?❞

❝i’m really excited to be working with you.❞

❝everybody loves a dumpster fire.❞

❝the guillotine was placed in town square for a reason. you didn’t just kill your enemy, you struck fear in everyone else as well.❞

❝i would follow you through the gates of hell.❞

❝i thought you were going to wear the earring you found in your pizza.❞

❝did someone tell you i’d be interested in that? ‘cause i’m not.❞

❝who doesn’t love the chance to look stunning while helping the world?❞

❝not being visible has it’s consequences, right?❞

❝how exactly do you plan on getting in?❞

❝do you have a plus one?❞

❝no one will find us. we’re by the books.❞

❝how about dinner tonight, then?❞

❝i can’t say i’ve ever waltzed before.❞

❝i hope you understand the magnitude of this honor.❞

❝i’m really sorry for any stress i may have caused you.❞

❝you saved me. allow me to return the favor?❞

❝it’s all falling into place.❞

❝it’s just one night.❞

❝this is the first time in my life i feel like i have a sense of direction.❞

❝what the hell was that?❞

❝maybe we were just drunk on the holiday spirit and maybe we should just end this thing now.❞

❝let’s rip this band aid off.❞

❝it’s worse than we thought.❞

❝no one wants what the next person wants.❞

❝i can’t tell if it’s better to just play along or stand up for my beliefs.❞

❝are you doing something you shouldn’t be doing? because that’s all you’ve been doing lately!❞

❝you’re ruining my big night!❞

❝you don’t owe me any explanation.❞

❝i only came here because i thought you wanted me here.❞

❝if you care about me, let me go.❞

❝i thought you would be proud.❞

❝i don’t have an ounce of pride for you.❞

❝how do you not feel that shame? i feel it every second i look at you.❞

❝i am embarrassed to even know you.❞

❝you always have my back.❞

❝i ‘ve always been defined by everyone else.❞

❝maybe we all need to get a little more used to living in the unknown.❞

❝the unknown can’t last forever, right?❞

❝everyone wants to be us.❞

❝confess, or go down in flames.❞

❝here’s the thing about war. it only takes one person to start it, the other person just has to respond.❞

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #rp sentence starters #roleplay memes #sentence starters

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rametarin · 1 year

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That Fujoshi has read too many bad romance novels. I'm not meaning to imply anything by this question but why not just tell your mom that you got a paycut and then squirrel away $50 or $100 a week under your mattress or in a new bank account? I imagine that you've thought of this already since you're pretty smart but I honestly can't think of why this idea wouldn't work. By the way, thanks for the response to my Alice in Wonderland math ask.

Because, had I a job, she'd be up my ass screaming about looking at my tax returns and insisting to "help" with my taxes. Under the usual threat of homelessness and police if she doesn't get her way.

I can't afford to leave with no buffer of cash to help me recover from the inevitable crash, and a few too many health issues to really risk it. so I don't.

It is impossible to keep any money from her because just as a course of living here she demands absolute involvement in anything I do that involves income, and then demands "her share."

Hell. I save holiday cards from a grandmother. I squirrel away that cash. But she knows that. And she considers that to be her money that I'm allowed to hold. I know this, because I purchased two books off the internet. She absolutely freaked out about this and then, lo and behold, she came at me the next week putting on a performance of how she was "overdrawn and needed money."

.. "How much?" I asked.

"Oh, how much do you have?" was her ominous reply.

I knew what this was when she said that, immediately.

I offered her $200 dollars.

Her response immediately was, "What? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What?"

So I said it louder. "Two. Hundred. Dollars."

Again she feigned not being able to hear me and asked me to repeat- it was obvious by this point this wasn't an issue of "old bitch can't hear you" it was a dressed up "raise your offer."

So I screamed, "TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS."

She just sort of stood there aghast, started crying and screamed, "GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND MOVE OUT!!" Which is absolutely something you do after someone offers you $200 to help with a little "oopsie doopsie" bill she may've "overlooked."

Later on she came at me again and demanded I hand over all my savings, or consequences. She was absolutely pissed off that I'd DARE spend any of my emergency funds on anything but her, and wanted to collect that money and choice from me so I couldn't spend it on anything else again. She didn't want "a little money", she wanted over a thousand dollars I'd saved over 10 years.

Then later when I had a dental issue and needed the tooth filled, I asked her for that money back. She stonewalled. Told me instead to get a job (where she could then extract all my cash on penalty of leaving me homeless unless I cimplied) and pay for it myself, after taking what little savings I had.

Short of walk out immediately with nothing and nowhere to go but massive amounts of debt just to exist, and a ditch, I don't really have anything I can do. I really do not want a homeless shelter to be my one and only option. I put up with this bullshit solely because of the singular opportunity to try and study and learn my way out of poverty. The only problem is since she retired she has become an absolute attention demon that wants interaction with me as often as she can get it, and has a tyrant's view of engagement- someone that thinks you're engaged in a conversation with them from the minute they speak to you to the next minute they want your attention again, does not respect if you're doing something else.

I want you to imagine how painful it is to try and do math around someone that has the power to coerce you to get up and do some menial task, not because the task needs doing, but because they want to see you get up and make it your priority and do it.

And why? What is the point of interrupting someone whom is busy with something else? Repeatedly? Spacing out every intrusion and intervention to effectively play keep away with the person and what they're doing?

Oh. Because it's an authoritative way to distract and intervene. Because suddenly you manipulate the value of their time and absorb priority from them, so no matter how precious their time is, you're gobbling up that precious attention and seizing priority from them. It took me a while to really hash out why she is so obsessive about choosing the most inopportune times to want my attention and labor, but after testing it, she only really wanted that attention and action as distractions sandwiched between anything else I was trying to do- she didn't want this intense amount of attention between periods of unscheduled activity or inaction. It was only when I was trying to save time for myself that she decided, "no you ain't" and reserving and overruling that reserved time and space for herself.

So all my studies and practice are done with her thinking I'm just some bedroom NEET she "allows" to waste time playing videogames. If she thought I was actually learning anything I could use as an occupation, she'd be as antagonistic and time stealing as she was when I was trying to learn medical transcription.

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