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sovasleepy · 8 months ago

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jealousy (valorant x reader)

[ chamber, gekko, sova, omen x gn!reader ] — in which valorant men get a little jealous

tw: jealous and a little overprotectiveness but they’re (mostly) healthy about it. a little cursing for some flavor. random guy flirts with you in chamber's but hes not creepy about it. different guy is also creepy in omen's but its not talked about in detail. chamber makes a sexual joke in his.

CHAMBER ━━━

hot take: he’s so protective at all times idc idc

but he hides it so so well

he’s absolutely enamored by you, there’s no denying that. that’s only half the reason why he tries to show you off so much though

the other reason is because that means he is showing you off as his. he’s staking his claim on you in his own odd little way, but it works and neither of you mind it too much

━━━━━━

“are you sure this shirt doesn’t make me look weird?” you asked, tugging at the material.

as much as you loved it, you couldn’t quite tell me if it was ‘you.’ you stepped out of the changing room of the store you were in and into the hallway, where chamber sat patiently waiting. he loved a fashion show if it was yours, after all.

he pretended to inspect it thoroughly, leaning forward in his chair and narrowing his eyes.

before he could answer, however, a different voice sounded out. it came from the door next to yours, where a different man had walked into the hallway to look at his own clothes.

“it looks good,” he spoke, smirk creeping its way onto his face. “but i imagine you’d look good in anything, huh?”

both you and chamber sat still and quiet for a few beats, as if registering what had just happened. the line was well delivered, but seriously? could he not tell that you were with chamber?

“well,” chamber spoke loudly. “they do look good in anything. and in nothing. we could see how you look when the shirt is on our bedroom floor, how’s that, ma cheri?”

you attempted to ignore the warmth that rose in your face, but failed. again, you were stunned. the opposing man blanched and retreated back to his changing room, where he quickly shut the door.

“come now, love. i think a thousand dollars in one shopping trip is enough, no? or should we stop by one more store?” chamber was overly loud once again.

and lying through his teeth, as well — you’d come to retrieve a single shirt for an event. that said, you couldn’t help but laugh as the occupant of changing room next to yours fumbled over himself, apparently knocked something down, and released a string of curses.

he didn’t have to know chamber was lying, and you didn’t have to know chamber was lying because he knew he’d earn a laugh from you.

GEKKO ━━━

gekko has like. a normal amount of jealousy?

he’ll bite back the small senses of it whenever you’re giving another guy a little more attention that he would like you to

or he’ll politely explain to you that he doesn’t really like you doing something because of how it makes him feel and you’ll talk it through

not because he doesn’t trust you, he just needs that extra little reassurance

if you’re willing to give up doing something to give him that peace of mind? all the better. if not? he can work on it, no questions asked.

overall 10/10 v good communication skills i love him

━━━━━━

you could tell that gekko was uneasy. from the way his nails picked at his fingers and the constant bouncing of his knee, to the avoidance of eye contact and the way his speech was quiet and mumbled, gekko’s demeanor screamed something was wrong.

you watched him carefully as you sat back down at the table. again, his eyes didn’t move from the place they were locked onto.

a few moments passed as you thought of what could have been wrong. the two of you were at some company party, with loud music coming through the speakers and an unholy amount of people piled into the room. everyone was dressed formally in either dresses or suits, their makeup done perfectly and not a hair out of place.

maybe that’s what was wrong. perhaps the music was too loud or his suit was too tight.

“mateo?” you had to yell over the music, despite wanting your voice to be soft as you spoke to him.

he finally looked up to you, soft eyes scanning your face. he didn’t speak, but he hummed to acknowledge you audibly.

“is everything alright? you seem a little off.”

the question seemed to stun him for a few moments as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked back down to the table. after a deep breath, he finally answered. “i just felt a little… i dunno. saying i was jealous feels a little funny, but there was this guy earlier you were talking to? he was kinda tall, darker hair. and uh- anyway, you went to grab a drink and he seemed to be really funny i guess. you didn’t stop laughing the entire time you were talking and before you left he kissed your cheek.”

you thought about it for a second, trying to recall the interaction, before you let out something like a laugh.

“he’s from mexico, he told me it was a common thing there? i dunno. i’ve known him since i joined the protocol.” you said, smiling at him. “it’s nothing, but if you don’t like it i’ll tell him next time. i highly doubt there’s gonna be any hard feelings about it on his end. is that alright?”

he nodded, sending you a soft smile. his face had relaxed significantly in the past few minutes. "thank you, amor."

SOVA ━━━

he rarely gets jealous,, he thinks

he has a hard time exactly placing the emotion, and it’s mostly shrouded in protectiveness more than anything

he loves you, he knows you love him, and there is not a doubt that trickles into his mind

…..for the most part, anyway

there is the occasional time when that warmth spreads in his chest and the overwhelming urge to take you under his wing spawns, only to realize you aren’t in any danger

so why does he feel the need to protect you?

━━━━━━

sova had never had any ill-will toward phoenix. the two of them weren't particularly close, but they had worked and lived together for long enough that they were closer than one might expect.

maybe thats why sova agreed to play games with he and a few others the other night. they played stupid ice-breaker games, despite mostly having known each other for years. a few embarrassing stories of his friends' youth were shared, including the time jett ate brownies without knowing weed was baked in, and the time raze got caught sneaking out in her teens.

at some point, sova was asked who he had feelings for. it was the late hours of the night, and you had long since passed out on the couch next to him. he'll never figure out how you slept through the laughing and talking, but you did. without saying a word, sova had smiled softly and nodded over to you.

there were a few gasps, and then there was the laughing and cheering of a few others. phoenix held out his hand, to which jett passed him twenty bucks with a disgrunted face. evidently, they had had a bet about his feelings.

little did he know that telling them--phoenix, in particular--about his feelings toward you would go on to be one of the worst decisions he could have made.

ever since that night, phoenix had made it his goal to flirt with you as much as he possibly could when sova was around. he would send the russian a wink and a smile after every interaction with you, driving the stake deeper. though you thought he was just being friendly and joking around, the interactions never failed to spark a sick feeling in his gut.

and currently, he was almost at his limit.

he was normally fairly calm, but his patience with phoenix had been run thin over the past few weeks and the interaction between you two was getting a little too close for his comfort. not that he had some sort of claim over you; you weren't dating, so why did he have this feeling?

"could you hand me my water?" you asked from your spot on the couch. you gestured to the bottle of water placed in front of phoenix, who was sitting beside you.

he watched as phoenix took your hand and brought it gently up to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "anything for you, my love." his voice was dripping with sultry as he spoke.

in a few quick steps, sova got up and grabbed the bottle before phoenix could. he stepped around the coffee table and handed you the bottle, sending a glare over to phoenix when he stepped away. the other man raised his hands in mock defense and leaned back into the couch. with a sly smile, he positioned his arm around the back of the couch and pulled you into his side. you laughed, but didn't push away.

"ok, fine." sova finally spoke. he had been glaring daggers at you and phoenix for the better part of two hours, and you couldn't figure out why. "what the hell is it for, phoenix? why are you doing this?"

you leaned up from where you were leaned against the man in question. "doing what?"

phoenix smiled impossibly wider and leaned forward. "yeah, doing what?"

sova grumbled. he huffed and took a moment to collect himself. "leave, y/n." he looked at you and his eyes softened. "please."

despite the look he sent you, you weren't leaving. you crossed your arms in defiance and glared. phoenix's hand came up to rub your back.

"that!" sova finally spoke again. this wasn't how he wanted to confess to you, but so be it. "i told you weeks ago that i had feelings for y/n and you have since made it your life's mission to flirt with them. you don't have the same feelings for them, so why? what do you gain?"

phoenix, painfully calmly, got up and walked to the other side of the room. "for one, you finally confessed. don't have to deal with your 'longing gazes' anymore. secondly, jett now owes me twenty more bucks."

OMEN ━━━

omen would like to pride himself in the fact that he was rarely jealous.

insecure? sure. a little self-depreciating? of course.

but jealous just wasn’t him. as much as he was dissatisfied with himself, he had full trust in you.

however, that didn’t stop the rare inkling of a feeling that you truly would be better off with someone else, especially when they flirt, and even more so when you don’t notice

━━━━━━

one more time. that was all it was going to take.

just one more time for that guy to slide his hand up your arm, one more stupid joke to roll off of his tongue, one more laugh from you. omen knew he didn't exactly initiate physical touch all that often, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it. he would kill right now to have that be him, for you to be so close to him, for you to be laughing at his every word like you were laughing at that guy's.

he had told you that he would come with you to grab some supplies. a kingdom worker had been at the facility at the time, however, and the two of you seemed to be getting along perfectly well. to hell with the company you had asked from omen, he supposes.

and of course there it was again, his arm coming up to rest gently on your back as he guided you down another hallway. omen was a few steps behind the two of you, not that either one of you seemed to be paying him any mind.

fine. he could go back to his room.

his disappeared into a cloud of smoke, materializing again in the darkness of his own room. the events of the last thirty or so minutes replayed in his mind, a taunting loop of your smile as you looked at the man responsible for it. its not that he hated seeing you smile -- he loved it. but it was a different thing entirely when you smiled so big because of a man he could never be. maybe in another life, but not now.

the thoughts swirled in his head for what felt like hours. it was likely barely half an hour in reality, being that it took fifteen minutes alone to get up to his room from where the two of you had been before and likely another few to finish your work.

finally, a knock on the door of his room regained his attention.

"come in." he spoke, not looking away from the ceiling tile he'd been fixed on.

"what the hell is wrong with you?" you asked, clearly angry.

the phantom sat up, looking over to you incredulously. "what?"

"why the hell would you leave?"

"wasn't interested in watching him flirt with you." he was curt, as always.

"oh, yeah," you said dramatically. you were walking over to him now, standing in front of him. "because i was enjoying it so much. loved it even more when my boyfriend got tired and left me alone with him."

oh. that makes more sense than you blatantly hitting on him in front of your own boyfriend.

"really? sure seemed to find him so funny."

"because what am i supposed to do? tell him that he's not funny and to shut up?"

"you could have told him not to touch you."

"i did! and you didn't see me brushing his hand away and walking faster so he wouldn't rest his hand on my back? or were you too busy wallowing?"

the reality of this set in on him suddenly. he really had been too caught up in his own mind to realize what was happening. he had left you in an uncomfortable situation all because he was too stubborn to listen to what was actually happening.

"i'm sorry." he finally spoke.

"its okay," you sighed, and crawled your way into his bed. "i'll file a report or something later. we deserve a nap."

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mac-tirs · 6 months ago

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the not-insignificant differences between the omen twins

so, i saw this picture posted by @amanaci which inspired me to write this rather lengthy piece on the contrasts between morgott and mohg. i decided that, instead of dumping this whole think-piece on their post, i'd make my own separate post and ramble here.

this difference in their height really tracks for how their fighting styles and personalities are like, i feel. i always found it peculiar how different they are despite being twins; i feel like there's a rather stark resemblance between miquella and malenia in their soft-faced features, pale skin, and long flowing hair, and a close resemblance between the carian siblings with their red hair, but morgott and mohg are rather different from each other, only bearing similarities due to their omen nature. i looked a little bit into that and found that there's pretty good reasons behind why.

firstly, morgott is severely malnourished and unhealthy in comparison to mohg. you can see it in his body and how his skin sags, how his ribs and bones show, and how dry it looks. below is a comparison between his hands and mohg's hands.

morgott's hands are dry, almost rubbed red and raw around the knuckles and fingers. it reminds me a little of psoriasis, or some kind of skin discolouration caused by his poor health. it's likely he isn't eating well, or at the very least, he isn't eating as well as mohg. his twin, on the other hand (ha!), has shiny, veiny skin with a healthy colour and gleam to them. it's like he wants to call to attention how well moisturised he is (which, in this case, compared to morgott, he is).

above is a comparison between the twins' horns. the difference is extremely evident to me; morgott's horns are dry, almost seeming brittle, like sun-dried bone that hasn't seen rain or moisture in years. it reminds me of the horns of a very neglected ram, almost, but despite that, the horn growths seem more controlled, less like the wild growths all over the royal omens of the shunning grounds and more controlled as a sort of jutting crown from mainly one side of his head. meanwhile, mohg's horns are shiny, curling wildly to the point of injury, taking his eye in its path of growth. they grew wildly enough to replace his hair altogether, if he ever had any, and give him an even more imposing silhouette with a literal crown of horns (and a beard to boot). beyond this, his horns look healthy, with clearly defined rings to each growth that shine under the light, much like the rest of him. he's oiled leather to morgott's dry hide.

another somewhat interesting detail of morgott is his tail. i know a lot of people see it as soft, and it certainly looks the part, but what i find interesting are two things: the first being that his fur looks quite matted in some lightings and angles but overall looks soft to the touch, and the second being that his tail's horns look much healthier than his own horns on his head. this is in clear contrast to the rest of his body, which looks dry and unassuming with smatterings of coarse white hair up and down his body, and i believe its a matter of the limits to his own self-care. he utilises his tail as another weapon in his arsenal, so he cares for it that it might serve him well in battle, unlike his head of horns, which only serve as a detriment to him with how they must obscure some of his vision, if not most of it. additionally, he likely could bear to look at his tail and care for it, but for an omen that hates his nature more than the average, he probably doesn't enjoy looking at his own face in the mirror enough to properly care for himself.

which brings me back to the sheer differences between these two. morgott, unhealthy and self-loathing, neglects many visual aspects of himself likely because he sees vanity as a luxury not afforded to someone like him. mohg, healthy and self-obsessed, cares and grooms himself to appear very much so like the lord he claims to be, loving himself to a heretical extreme (in the eyes of the golden order). their statures reflect this too; morgott hunches low to the ground, ready to pounce at any given moment but also due to his own shame and humility, while mohg stands tall and proud, though not as tall as he could possibly be due to his upbringing being one of likely having to hunch low to fit beneath the ceilings of the smaller parts of the shunning grounds.

above is a picture of an omen from stormveil, which bears resemblance to all the omen you see in the game. in terms of clothing, one of the big ways people set the omen twins apart, morgott is completely naked save for the ragged cloak of animal hides he wears, signifying he is not fit to even dress himself in a shirt or trousers as befits a king, much like the omen pictured. he wears even less than that, actually, since he lacks even the slightest adornment save for the rope that clasps his cloak together. on the other hand, mohg is entirely adorned in finery, wearing a beautifully embroidered, fashionable priest's robe with matching vestments, and beneath that (as seen in the first image) some underclothes, a plain black button up and some pants. mohg's entire silhouette changes with the removal of his robe, while morgott's barely makes an impact once you realise he has only taken off the one article of clothing he had.

then, of course, there are their fighting styles. there's this fantastic video on youtube that i recommend watching of the twins fighting every major boss in the game, and you can clearly tell them apart from their fighting styles alone. morgott is fast, his size making him look deceptively slow only for him to dart out and do sick flips and somersaults and pirouettes that rival even the most flexible dancers, and he fights with speed and almost animalistic ferocity, save for when he conjures his weapon incantations. mohg is slow but strong, capable of swinging that large trident around like it weighs nothing while hitting with the force to knock down most enemies in a few hits, and most tarnished in just one, but he fights with a steady gracefulness in his every move, walking slowly and carefully while casting spells that hurt a lot.

even their phase 2 transitions are markedly different, with morgott's being one where he drops to his knees, vomits, and releases his cursed blood(?) all over the battlefield, causing his weapon to become alight with his curse and for him to fight with more in-your-face aggression, and with mohg's being one where he simply ignores your attacks and begins stabbing his spear into the formless mother for power at your expense, gaining a majestic set of wings that put distance between you and him so he can cast more of his spells at safer distances. where morgott is pushed to his limit and forced to confront his nature, mohg has long since embraced it and enjoys the fruits of his bloody labour with the mother of truth's blessing.

speaking of the mother of truth, even their patron orders are at odds with each other. the golden order was built upon the foundation of a very carefully-guarded lie: that marika is the one true god, which she can't be, with the existence of radagon (as per goldmask, perhaps the number 1 fundamentalist we meet in game). the formless mother is known also as the mother of truth, existing in direct opposition of the golden order's lies and craving the honesty of one of the purest expressions of life: blood. these two ideals would war against each other, with one being dedicated to the upholding of a beautiful, corrupt lie and the other being dedicated to the instillation of a dynasty of raw, pure truths. as such, even morgott and mohg's own great runes reflect these contrasts in faith, though, remarkably, these two great runes are ones that fit perfectly over each other, with mohg's slightly elevated (seen below, taken from the fextralife wiki).

so, where does this leave us? i don't know, exactly. i wasn't really writing this with any sort of ultimate conclusion. i just found it really interesting how different they were, and i wanted to talk about all the noticeable, significant differences between them here. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#elden ring #elden ring rambles #elden ring lore #omenboys #morgott the omen king #margit the fell omen #mohg lord of blood #mohg the omen #i hope this whole thing makes sense

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canine-witch · 15 days ago

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What's Coming Next Month?

The first month of the year is already almost over, and many of us are still feeling the effects of 2024. I recieved a message that the collective all seems to want to move forward, without uncertianty.

Drink some water, pick a pile, and release what does not resonate.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Group One ~ Lemon Water

You will be purging and releasing energy in the next month, seekers. It's time for you to level up and reach a higher plane in all aspects of your life. The purging and releasing of this energy, people, or places may be painful. But, it's all for the greater good. You are protected and safe, and sometimes we have to release what no longer serves us, even if we love something. Watch for omens and comfort yourself seeker, blessings to you, the pain will subside into joy.

Group Two ~ Noon Window

Your blockages will be removed, seekers. Many of you have found yourself in a dream like state, where you know what you want, but you never seem to get it. There has been a lack of balance in your life, and significant roadblocks that are preventing you from reaching what you desire. Sit with yourself, ask yourself if this is what you truly want. If it is, ask yourself what limiting beliefs are keeping you from claiming your dreams. Those of you who do spellwork, a hex breaking spell or a reversal spell might be helpful, if those don't work, a roadblocking one may be helpful. Take the time to rest and ask yourself what you need. Many blessings are coming your way, make sure you are aligned to claim it.

Group Three ~ Bubble Lamp

You will be helped by someone in the next month, seekers. You may be a person who thinks that you don't deserve the things that others want to give you. But, there is someone who wants to provide you with material gain, and you need to humbly accept this blessing. Charity works in a circle, those who are shown kindness and given a chance to prove themselves, go on to give that same chance to others. You must learn to claim, accept, and expect wealth and status, it is part of your destiny to bless other lives as you have been blessed. Stay humble, but when people want to be kind to you, accept their help. You deserve the blessings seeker, much power to you moving forward.

Group Four ~ Sunny Koi Pond

You need to make amends this coming month, seekers. You have offended someone with your words, perhaps intentionally or unintentionally. We all make mistakes, but there seems to be refusal on your end to claim what you need to. Making mistakes doesn't make you a bad person, and perhaps your words rang true. But, we cannot control other's emotions, and your words may have been too sharp. Release your pride, apologize. If you do not, the domino effect may happen, and you will end up alone after many more arguments and fights. Put your ego and pride aside, and apologize for the hurt you caused. Make amends and your blessings will come in again, seeker.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Thank you so much for your time and energy, seekers. If you want clarification on any of these piles, or you have another question, I am currently taking free readings from January 26, 2025 through February 3, 2025. Limited time only!

Free Readings

Pick a Pile Masterpost

Thank you!

#tarotblr #intuitive tarot reader #intuitive tarot #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #tarot witch #pick a card reading #pac reading

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novaursa · 5 months ago

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can you please write something with the reader being the queen of a far away kingdom that is kinda similar to the targaryen house but instead of dragons they have elike either magic or something. and reader ends up befriending rhaenyra which has the reader being a very powerful ally and the greens notice this , with alicent still wanting to steal the throne but otto is like “…nahhhh” , so rhaenyra becomes queen with the reader there and just standing all badass and stuff kinda comedic if you can please

The Witch Queen

- Summary: You arrive from faraway land to aid Rhaenyra before her rightful claim is stolen.

- Pairing: female!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: This might be slightly darker than you asked for, but the spooky season vibes guided me with this one. I hope you still like it, dear anon. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: long live the queen

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The wind carried a sharp, briny scent from the sea as your ship glided through the dark waters toward the docks of King's Landing, its shadow stretching ominously beneath the moonlit sky. The black sails of your fleet billowed against the midnight horizon, a ghostly procession that had gone unnoticed until now. No banners heralded your arrival, no horns sounded from the walls of the Red Keep. The city slept in ignorance of the storm you had brought.

At your side, your court stood with heads held high, their violet eyes gleaming in the moonlight, their pale, silver-gold hair swept back in intricate braids that mirrored your own. House Tyvarella was not accustomed to formalities that belonged to lesser kings or the pious men of Westeros. You were the Queen of a realm far older than this one, a survivor of Valyria’s doom, and there was no need for permission to make yourself known.

As you stepped onto the cobblestones, the whispers from the shadows began to ripple. The common folk had heard the tales—stories of your house, the blood mages of Tyvarella, feared even by those who once tamed dragons. To those of the Faith of the Seven, you were a creature from their darkest myths, a figure woven into the very fabric of their nightmares. And now, you were here, at the heart of their crumbling kingdom.

“The night brings ill omens,” Otto Hightower muttered, his hands wringing in that nervous, meticulous way of his. He stood by a flickering torchlight, watching as your procession marched through the streets toward the Red Keep. His face was pale, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of wariness and disgust. “They come as vultures, Alicent, like specters summoned by death itself. We need to leave, now.”

Alicent Hightower, now Dowager Queen, stood by his side, her delicate fingers gripping the edges of her gown as if holding herself together. Her emerald eyes, though wary, flickered with a strange curiosity as she gazed at your retinue. “They were not expected, not invited… What are they doing here?”

“Nothing good, I assure you,” Otto responded with grim certainty. “King Viserys is dead. They arrive just as his breath fades. They bring with them blood magic and ruin. If we stay—”

A distant sound cut through the air, carried on the wind—the solemn toll of bells echoing across the city. Viserys was gone. The king had breathed his last.

Alicent's breath hitched as the realization washed over her. Her husband, the father of her children, the king, was dead. And here you stood, arriving at this precise moment, as if heralding the change to come.

But her eyes strayed, flickering toward the upper windows of the Red Keep. Through the torch-lit chambers, she caught a glimpse of another figure—Rhaenyra. The Princess had been kept behind, confined within the castle after that last bitter feast Viserys had demanded, the one after Vaemond Velaryon met his end.

Rhaenyra stood by the window now, her gaze drawn irresistibly to you. Alicent noticed it in an instant, the way her rival, her stepdaughter, leaned closer to the glass, watching your every movement with a deep, unspoken longing. Rhaenyra’s eyes were fixed on you, even from this distance, her expression one of unmistakable hunger and fascination.

“Do you see that?” Alicent whispered, her voice tight. “She… she looks at her.”

Otto followed her gaze, his lips tightening. “Rhaenyra’s drawn to power,” he said dismissively, though a hint of concern tugged at his tone. “It’s in her blood. But this... this is different. Tyvarella’s magic is ancient, forbidden. If she aligns herself with them, it will be disastrous.”

Alicent felt a wave of unease roll through her, but before she could respond, the heavy gates of the Red Keep groaned open, and you stepped inside. The room fell into a hush, as if the very stones of the castle were holding their breath. You entered without ceremony, your violet eyes scanning the gathering of lords and courtiers, none of whom dared meet your gaze directly.

And then, you saw her.

Rhaenyra.

She descended the grand staircase, her silken black gown flowing behind her like the wings of a raven. Her silver hair glowed in the candlelight, and her lips were parted ever so slightly, as if tasting the air between you. The tension in the room coiled tight, palpable.

When your eyes met hers, the world seemed to fall away.

You had seen her before, of course. But this… this was different. Here, in this moment of death and turmoil, the connection between you felt like a thread of fire, burning through the distance between you both. Her breath hitched as she came to stand before you, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra whispered, her voice soft yet carrying a weight that pulled at something deep inside of you. “You came.”

“I did,” you replied, your voice steady, though the sight of her stirred something untamed within you. “I came as soon as I sensed it. Viserys is gone, and now… the realm will fall to chaos.”

Her lips tightened into a thin line, pain flashing in her eyes at the mention of her father, but she didn’t look away. “They’ll come for me. For my children.”

“And they’ll have to go through me first.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes darkened at your words, the weight of your promise settling over her like a shield. Her hand, pale and trembling, reached out ever so slightly, as if testing the waters between you. And then, without another word, she placed it in yours.

A murmur spread through the room. Alicent stiffened where she stood, her face pale as the dawn.

Otto watched in silence, his mind already racing, already calculating. He knew what this meant. He knew that your presence here was more than a disruption. It was a declaration.

“We should have left when we had the chance,” he muttered, just loud enough for Alicent to hear. “Now it’s too late.”

Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, her fingers warm despite the cool air. “Will you stay?”

Your lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “For as long as you need me.”

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x female reader #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra

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cruel-hiraeth · 1 month ago

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Every ten years, two young adults from your village are offered to the King of Curses as human sacrifices.

A pair of souls plucked at peak ripeness is all that will appease the mythic monster. Otherwise, the selection process is random—or so the elders claim; you suspect that happenstance alone isn’t why the chosen are always orphans. There’s no harm in throwing away the lives of those who have neither social status nor loved ones.

Who will mourn their loss?

Since you were a knobby-kneed child, you assumed you would have to forfeit your existence for the “greater good” (though you never believed your meager life would account for much). Whispers have followed you like a shadow for as long as you can remember.

Rumor holds that your parents abandoned you to the elements because you consumed your twin in the womb; you were born a demon, a cursed child. The only reason you walk the earth today is because a monk took mercy on a wretched babe, delivering you to an orphanage for a life of isolation and servitude.

It’s a somber morning when it occurs: inky clouds are a funerary shroud over the earth. Your breath remains steady when a procession arrives at the door of your master’s home, announcing that you bear the honor of representing the village this year. Unable to so much as gather your few belongings—what does a spirit require in death?—you leave the residence immediately, heart heavy with foreboding.

The next several weeks are a blur. You reside in a crumbling temple on the outskirts of the village where you begin the purification process—an endless cycle of fasting, meditation, and ablution. Here you meet your companion on this journey to premature death: a fellow orphan named Itadori Yuuji. To your knowledge, you have never met him before; you’re positive that you would remember him if you had.

He’s too striking to forget.

Itadori is tall and broad, his skin sun-warmed and tawny, with freckles smattering his shoulders and face. His eyes are swirling pots of honey, smoother and richer than anything you have ever seen—is the gilt nectar as luscious and sweet as they claim? The shock of hair atop his head is a coppery gold, more befitting of royalty than a poor farmhand.

But perhaps his most distinct features are the identical, crescent-shaped scars that outline his eyes. You wonder how they got there and what they mean. Are they an omen? A generational curse? A mark of death? You never muster the courage to ask him, though, as the day of your offering is upon you.

The wind whips the hem of your silk robes, the chilly air seeping into your bones, a shiver wracking your frame. You wobble to you knees before the shrine as you begin reciting the sacrificial rites—the elders standing back at a safe distance—waiting for the King of Curses to claim you. Your heart is a storm: sorrowful rain, vengeful thunder, thrilling lightning. Amidst the chaos of your thoughts, Itadori grasps your left hand, his palm dwarfing your own.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers.

You glance at him in your periphery; a knowing smile tugs at the corners of his lips. What makes you so sure? you want to cry out. You taste the words on your tongue as his scars crack open to display another set of eyes a bloody claret, dark tattoos unfurling across his face and limbs. He now speaks with a gravely voice, much deeper than he ever has before:

“This isn’t the end, brat—it’s merely the beginning.”

#reworked from an old drabble if it looks familiar #i added more detail about reader’s background that offers interesting parallels #and i think—perhaps—there is more to the story of *how* the selection process works #perhaps sukuna was waiting for the right pair to stumble before him…………#anyway i think about this concept often #sukuna’s involvement is NOT romantic i must add #in fact he’s horrible in this au #— musings #— itadori yuuji #— sukuna #— jujutsu kaisen #yuuji x reader #sukuna x reader

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krisluxxeeempress · 7 months ago

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HOW DOES YOUR PERSON FEEL ABOUT YOU? PICK-A-PILE ...

Pile (1) : Misunderstood

Cards: Magician reversed, Unknown, Five of Cups, High Priestess, Five of Pentacles reversed- kinda, Empress reversed and judgment -at the bottom of the deck.

My first reaction was WOW! The person on your mind feels like you’re elusive. They also feel like their manipulative tactics, that usually work, are ineffective. When I say, “ usually work”, this can mean for some of you that in the past whatever they did to gain the upper hand and keep you and this relationship situation under control, no longer works. Hence- their “ Wow” reaction. For others of you, this is simply a shock to them because they TRIED IT and FAILED miserably. I understand that not everyone appreciates or understands spiritual terminology- especially, when someone deems themselves as a spiritual being.

( as I was typing this, a spider was crawling on my leg- scary) Side bar, Spiders represent creation, interconnectedness, resilience, balance and harmony. In addition to, being omens for good fortune, luck and confirmation for being in alignment with your destiny and higher purpose. I do not believe in coincidences and so, it’s become clear to them that you are indeed “ Chosen”- for what? That’s for you to decide, however, the person on your mind feels like they’ve misjudged you. When someone misjudges you, they usually treat you with contempt. If you recall, I felt the need to acknowledge that not everyone appreciates, understands or respects those who claim to be spiritual beings. It’s becoming clear that your person judged you harshly and unjustly due to their ignorance. The magician card reversed further clarifies that your person believed that you were evil, a witch, warlock or worse because of your spiritual beliefs and practices. If I had the Doreen love oracle, I’m certain the card “

Religious factors are affecting your love life”, would appear. This now brings us back to the beginning, with your person’s reaction being “ WOW”. ( you see how everything is circling back and coming together- like that of a spiderweb?) I shuffled again and took a peek at the bottom of the deck and the four of pentacles reversed, the Hierophant and Hanged man is present. Your person is finally having a realization that their reasoning for abandoning you- rejecting you, was due to their lack of awareness and RESPECT for your spiritual beliefs. It goes without saying, your person is religious and before this point, was grounded ( 4 of pentacles) in their religious beliefs that clearly opposed your spiritual beliefs. This is a profound moment because the Judgement card is out with the Empress reversed, with you being The Empress ( man or woman). NO ONE rejects The Empress. I can see this person hurt you. I think we can all agree how painful it is when others misjudge you and refuse to understand you due to their ignorance and unwillingness to be challenged. Challenges promote growth, which is another spiritual meaning of spiders. Most fear spiders and clearly, your person WAS and STILL IS, SCARED OF YOU. ( as they should be) I’ll be FRANK, your person is a bitch. The difference now, is that they are admitting to themselves that they are a bitch.

Your person may have Saturn in Aries/ 1st house, Mars/ Pluto square, Neptune square Saturn, 12th & or 8th house placements, Earth sign placements, Sun square Neptune, Sun square Mars, prominent Uranus placements – but not limited to. People fear what they do not understand and who they cannot control. I am afraid ( no pun intended) that this is the dynamic with your person. I personally want to clarify, however, energetically, that would be overkill especially for your person. It has taken them some time to finally admit that they are fearful of you and everything you represent. Out of respect, ( the same respect they initially didn’t have for you) I think it’s best to allow them to marinate in their “ Awakening”. I can confidently say that though they fear you, they finally respect you. They’ve known that to be with you, it would require them to GROW spiritually with you which means they would have had to leave their religious beliefs behind. It was much easier to demonize and misunderstand you at the time, than it was, for you to challenge everything they believe and been taught.

For your sake ( whoever is reading this), Clarifying the Empress reversed and Judgment card- Temperance and Ace of Cups came out. Your person loves you ( likes you a lot) and they want to FIX the hurt and pain their rejection has caused. I pulled two more, and the King of Cups and Five of Pentacles came out. They are feeling the same Five of Pentacles that they made you feel. Your person could be a Scorpio , Cancer, Pisces, Capricorn, Virgo, or Taurus. I pulled a few love oracles, and I won’t name them all here however, all their judgements about you came out in the cards. They forced themselves to believe some negative things about you, man. Twin flames, Marriage, Let’s Elope are the only good cards that came out, that I strongly believe are in alignment with their “ awakening” and acceptance of who you are. Intuitively, I know this has been a long journey, years even. I don’t see ACTION, but I suppose becoming AWARE is a start.

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Pile (2) : Forgive But Never Forget

Cards: King of Swords, Six of Swords reversed, Eight of Wands, Nine of Swords, Knight of Cups and The World – at the bottom of deck.

For this pile, your environment may have been sending you messages- like seeing synchronicities. Birds flying above you ( or shitting on you or your car) , Horses, Frogs, Butterflies flying past you, Cats, People selling roses on the side of the road etc. Astrologically, I strongly feel that your Vertex and Part of Fortune has been activated. Now, your person “feels” like an apology is in order. Some of you may resonate with Pile (1) because toward the end I mentioned that I wasn’t seeing action, just awareness with their person. In Pile (2) I see mad action, and a lot of horses. Your person may be an Air Sign- Aquarius, Libra, Gemini or Fire Sign- Aries, Leo, Sagittarius or have those placements. ( maybe you do) Nevertheless, your person wants to apologize and or, take you out on a date.( or both)

It’s interesting, because when I attempt to interpret the cards, I come up with another meaning at the last minute. It feels like someone who is trying to have all their bases covered. It feels like someone is trying to make sure that there will be no reason for you to turn them down. I clarified the Knight of Cups and the 9 of cups, Three of Swords and Three of Pentacles card appeared. This suggest that this may be someone you are familiar with, who “owes” you an apology. This person, ( I can’t say your person because it appears they lost that title) wants to make you happy. Omg, the energy is somewhat strange. This person may be a bit awkward. They don’t communicate much. I am having a hard time typing. It’s like this person is very careful with their words. They don’t want to say or do the wrong thing. I strongly feel like you may resonate with Pile (1) because in that pile, their person was fearful of them. The energy seems a bit similar. Okay, so clarifying the King of Swords, the Hermit, Two of Wands, Six of Swords, and the Knight of Wands with the Eight of Pentacles at the bottom of the deck. No wonder, this person is coming off like they don’t speak much or are very cautious with what they say. Whoever this is to you; hurt you and stressed you out- to say the least ( no pun intended) and they want to come in the right way and make up for their past actions. They do not want to remind you of the past you’ve shared with them. Which means, they may not want to bring up the past. I am not saying they will try to brush things under the rug but… in some ways, that’s exactly what they intend to do. Looks like your past with them was a bit toxic, confusing and one sided. It appears to have been a situationship that clearly hurt you in the end. ( Wow, I’m tired of typing these short sentences. They really are cautious with their words!!!) Maybe this indicates one of the problems you had with this person- was the fact they were too controlled, short with their speech, emotionally unavailable and hard to read. OH! You felt it was hard to connect with them on a deeper and emotional level because clearly, you were the one putting in all the effort- hence the one sided dynamic.

This person wants to be YOUR PERSON and whenever they show up ( BECAUSE THEY WILL) expect them to communicate a lot more. Be prepared to hear that they are tired of fighting how they feel about you, being and acting all controlled aka. STIFF AS HELL, and that it was never just a sexually situationship. It was always more than that but like Pile (1), they were scared. . . Yup, I started shuffling out of my love oracle deck and “ They want you” came FLYING OUT !!! They love the way you smell ( sounds like a taurus thing ) They also want to start a family- whether that means with babies or pets with marriage in the future. Now, be careful because there are some cards that came out that are concerning. I am unable to tell if this is past energy that they want to apologize for or things you were suspicious about before.

The World Card denotes a new beginning, so I’d like to encourage an optimistic perspective HOWEVER, DO NOT BE A DUMMY. . . My unsolicited advice would be to make them prove and work for your forgiveness, remember the Three of Pentacles came out with the Three of Swords. Don’t allow one nice gesture ( or 5) , make you forget what transpired in the past. FORGIVE BUT NEVER FORGET!

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Pile (3): Divine Timing

Cards: 9 of Pentacles reversed, Three of Swords, 9 Of Swords, Eight of Wands, Queen of Wands reversed – Unknown at the bottom of the deck.

If there is a person, they are on the outside looking in because you won’t allow them in. I feel inclined to say that if you chose this pile, you are either still hurting from recent \ past hurts AND OR, you’ve learned from recent/ past hurts and decided that it’s best to stay to yourself. We all know how we feel and think when we’ve been hurt in relationships so- what’s understood does not need to be explained. We have also all heard the saying, “ when you aren’t looking for love, is when it finds you” BLAH BLAH right? Well, to clarify the Eight of Wands that is laying on top of the 3 of Swords- is the World card. Dare I say, new love is coming in?! Out of respect for the Unknown and The World cards- (as they are major arcana’s )

Therefore, indicates higher powers are at play here. It doesn’t matter how intuitive, tapped in or “ WOKE” any of us claim to be, there are just some things that we will not be given clarity on when we want it. It feels like this is such a moment. It reminds me of the scripture in Matthew 24:36 “ No one knows when that day or hour will come. Even the Angels in heaven and the Son don’t know. Only the father knows”. Interestingly enough, a train is going by at this very moment. ( an Omen that things are on track) From my love oracle deck, the cards- Camera, Coffin, I Like You, Wedding Rings and Paradise came out. The Camera card says, learn from past memories, reminiscing and perception- so this confirms for some of you that you have learned from your past mistakes as I forementioned above ( I pull cards as I go) and The Coffin card says, endings, new beginnings, growth, change and liberation. Pile (1) may resonate for some of you. Themes of growth and spiders came out.

However, All in All, I see a happy ending with this pile. The details are just elusive. This pile is Divinely Guided and on Divine timing. If you chose this pile and are not satisfied, that is a clear indication that you do not trust in The Divine and wish to be in control- which you will never be. I’m just the messenger.

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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!

IF ANY OF THESE PILES RESONATED PLEASE CONSIDER "HEARTING" OR REBLOGGING MY POST. I AM TRYING TO BUILD AND EXPAND MY BLOG AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO DO SO.

#predictions #krisluxxeeempress #pick a card #tarot reading #love tarot reading #love messages #lovers #romantic couple #romance #love letters #personal readings #tarot blog #tarot tumblr #3 piles

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theofficialpresidentofmars · 6 months ago

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Atla AU where during the Eclipse, Zuko confronts his father, and Ozai is shocked when he discovers that his son can redirect lightning.

… that is to say, when Zuko receives the lightning thrown at him and is momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer amount of power rushing through his body, he’s not thinking as much about where he’s aiming his redirection than he maybe should have been, and his father receives a shot-to-kill lightning bolt directly to the chest. Fatally.

Zuko comes to his senses and is left alone in a room with a body, and a terrible feeling in his stomach.

To his surprise, when the eclipse ends, the doors open, and the guards rush in, he’s not immediately exiled, or executed, or even imprisoned. He’s simply met with mouths agape and the sort of silence you’d expect when the fate of a nation hangs in the balance. He’s taken to a quiet room while the Fire Sages examine the crime scene to determine what the will of the spirits is, and then brought out again to face them when they’ve made their decision.

Any member of the Royal Family can challenge for the right to rule via Agni Kai. Zuko challenged his father, and although it was not a match in the traditional sense, it was only fair for him to do so after his father’s disrespect of the ‘traditional sense’ in enacting Agni Kai three years ago; and won. The Fire Sages announce that by the Spirits’ decree, he is the rightful Firelord.

Zuko does not tell them what happened, nor correct them when they make the assumption that he has mastered the cold-blooded fire and shot lighting as an attack on his father and an attempt to gain the throne for himself. He stays silent, he does not speak up when they talk politics, he does not protest in the slightest. All he feels is a numbed fear of what this means, what this means for him, but more importantly, what this means for the war. It was not his destiny to defeat the Fire Lord. His father taken down by another member the royal family is expected at best, a cause for martyrdom at the worst- but it is not a victory for the Avatar. It is not in itself something that will bring the end of the Fire Nation’s conquest, and Zuko knows enough politics to know that he is trapped. If the Avatar had taken out the Fire Lord, there would be hope in the other nations, and there would be doubt within his own nation, enough so that altogether they could be steered back onto the right path, but that didn’t happen. With him on the throne now, he is trapped in rooms with admirals and generals and bloodthirsty tyrants who would be more than happy to figurehead him while they carry out their own sick ideas, or who would see him fall for what he did to their old and more respected head of state. They do not respect him, for his age, for his inexperience, for his disrespect. He cannot speak out, he is in no position to instigate real change.

He knows he cannot abdicate the throne either, because however bad he has it, his sister in his position would solve nothing. Even if she thinks she is, she’s not ready to be the Fire Lord, and obviously she has wildly different ideas of what makes a good leader to him. He can’t find his uncle, let alone face him this way.

And also because for the war to end, the Avatar has to defeat the Fire Lord. If Azula were on the throne, Zuko has no doubt that this ‘defeat’ would be in the same vein as what would have been Ozai’s.

He doesn’t know what it means for him. He has an idea, and it’s not like it’s much better, but if he can spare anyone else from what’s coming, it’s the least he can do, maybe the only thing he can do to try, right?

A funeral is held for his father. The Fire Sages announce to the nation what the spirits have made of his death, and proudly crown Zuko the new Fire Lord. They proclaim that it is a good omen for their nation, a sign of their just cause to have such a strong leader come and enact justice in order to claim the throne and lead their nation to victory.

Agni guided his hand, they say, and with it, the start of a prosperous new era. Long live Fire Lord Zuko!

The citizens of his nation accept him readily, and there is a terrible feeling in his stomach.

“Why is everyone wearing white?”

Sokka poked a finger at one of the locals, less inconspicuously than he might have thought. “I thought red was supposed to be these people’s colour. We look out of place.”

“Haven’t you heard?” The merchant at the stall over thumbed out a pamphlet, and handed it, unfortunately enough, to the one of them that couldn’t read. “We’re in mourning. You two should be in mourning too.”

Sokka tried not to be too indignant at the man’s eavesdropping, but he supposed information was information. And this seemed like pretty important information. “Okay, well, who died?”

“Who died? Have you been under a rock?” At that, Toph smirked, but Sokka was too concerned with this sudden news to bring up the semantics of the Western Air Temple.

“Just tell me!” Sokka felt a piece of paper in his hand, as Toph had finally decided to relinquish her useless bounty. Sokka whipped it up to read, and his eyes caught on the words the exact moment the merchant clarified-

“Fire Lord Ozai?!”

This was unbelievable. This was completely insane. This was…

Sokka knew that this should have been good news, but all he felt was a horrible, terrible, growing sense of dread in his stomach. Beside him, Toph had stopped moving, and Sokka knew she was listening very intently for something.

“It’s true,” she helpfully confirmed. Even she couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“He was killed during the Day of the Black Sun,” the merchant went on. “Not by the invading forces, but within the sanctity of the palace walls themselves.”

The pit in Sokka’s stomach grew larger.

“It was lightning that defeated him. He was struck down, they say, in Agni Kai. Defeated by his son, and successor.”

This was bad. This was very bad.

“So that means…” Sokka’s gut had figured it out, but his brain was still putting the pieces together.

“We have a new Fire Lord, one who inspires us, one who gives us hope that we will end this war victorious.”

“Zuko.” Toph stated bluntly, without a hint of readable emotion in her voice.

Sokka corrected her. “Fire Lord Zuko.”

#zuko #atla #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fire lord zuko #fire lord ozai #atla ozai #atla sokka #sokka #atla toph #toph beifong #atla fanfic #zuko fanfic #azula atla

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cobragardens · 1 year ago

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The 3 Falls of Anthony J Crowley

So far, Crowley has told three different stories to three different audiences about why he Fell, and there's some important information that can be inferred from them. Let's get nerdy.

(Nb. C. 25% of this is from a previous post I made about Crowley's memory problems.)

Here's Crowley's 1st story (gifs courtesy of Fuck Yeah Good Omens), in 1867:

In Book Omens this line is narration about Crowley, and means that Crowley didn't embrace evil and side with Hell so much as he just wasn't into the whole Heaven shindig.

In Show Omens, this phrase becomes a little more fraught, because Crowley says it about himself, and he says it to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale has just disagreed with Crowley's assertion that the two of them have a lot in common. Az thinks Crowley means their origins as angels, and demurs, "I don't know. We may have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."

But what Crowley means, as we find out in pretty much every other scene the two of them share in S1 and S2, is that that he and Aziraphale have a lot in common now, in their current positions. He wants Aziraphale to see him as a friend--and to be his friend--so he elides the difference his Fallenness makes to Aziraphale, all "Ehhh, it wasn't really a fall kind of Fall, it wasn't that bad."

Also, given the conversation they have in the Final Fifteen, I feel like his phrasing is kind of important here, because falling is not voluntary, but sauntering is. In saying this Crowley is claiming that to some degree he chose to reject Heaven.

It's entirely possible that Crowley may have been lying to Aziraphale in 1867--he is, as he says, a demon, and he's lied to him before to make something bad seem less bad--but maybe not. Remember what the Metatron says about Crowley:

And this is another interesting point: The Metatron knew Crowley as an angel. The Metatron. The being who, after shepherding Aziraphale out of the bookshop, turned back and looked at Crowley with hate.

(And tense music playing, in case you weren't sure.)

So maybe that's it. Maybe Crowley just chose to be on his own side.

But in 2019, and addressing God, Crowley's story of his Fall is slightly different:

I think we can take this as Crowley's sincere belief. It's unlikely that he would lie when speaking to God, because that is Aziraphale's job because he doesn't have any reason to do so: God hasn't been listening to Crowley for 6,000 years at this point, and if She were listening, lying would not work. So Crowley probably believes he's telling the truth here with this story: Crowley believes one reason he Fell is that he asked questions.

But is he right?

Another line from the Metatron:

The Metatron seems to speak of Crowley's habit of asking questions as though he finds it obnoxious rather than damning, so maybe the questions weren't the problem. Then again we know that the Metatron is a lying piece of shit and an authoritarian who doesn't want his regime questioned, willing to erase memories and destroy lives to cover up the 'institutional problem' that Heaven doesn't know what the Plan is and is run by a handful of warmongers who want everyone dead or indentured.

Either way, this is the third time in the series someone has talked about the problem of Crowley asking questions, so my guess is his questions were probably a salient feature of his Fall.

Onward!

Before we look at the 3rd story, remember that we have strong evidence now that Crowley has had his memories erased by Heaven.

But we also know Furfur, another demon, still has his memories. Inference: Heaven don't erase the memories of every angel who Falls. This suggests that Heaven erased Crowley's memories because he had knowledge in those memories Heaven didn't want him to have anymore.

This may not be specific knowledge. We know Crowley has a high security clearance in Heaven and therefore must have been a high-ranking angel, and we know he created a nebula with Saraqael, so presumably there was a lot of stuff in his head Heaven wanted stripped out.

But I think there was something specific, and here's why. Firstly, there's no reason to assume that importance in Heaven is a guarantee of importance in Hell. Furfur could have been a high-ranking angel too before ending up an admin in Hell. (Hell does not seem to be any more of a meritocracy than Heaven does.)

Secondly, it's clear that Crowley doesn't know his memories have been erased. If he knew, then when Furfur says "We were in the same Legion? Just before the Fall? Doing dubious battle on the Plains of Heaven? Remember?" he'd say something like "Don't be stupid, of course I don't remember, Heaven erased my memories."

Instead he says,

Now, maybe Crowley is just being a dick here. Certainly we're supposed to take it that way until he goes up to Heaven with Muriel and doesn't remember Saraqael either.

But what if he's being truthful? If Crowley is being honest (and a dick), that would mean the Fash didn't erase all of Crowley's memories of his time in Heaven. We know this because Furfur says he and Crowley fought together "on the Plains of Heaven," and "just before the Fall" [emphasis added].

This suggests that Maybe Heaven didn't erase time from Crowley's memory. Maybe they erased people.

Okay, now here's Crowley's 3rd story about how he Fell:

It's a cute line, but what if it's not just a throwaway joke referencing what people say about kids who go down the wrong path and become criminals?

Crowley mutters this 3rd story to himself, so we can be confident Crowley believes this to be true. But Crowley doesn't know who the wrong people are. He doesn't know whose company got him thrown out of Heaven, because his memories of all those people have been taken from him.

And taken together, these three stories and Crowley's stolen memories suggest a bigger, more disturbing inference: Crowley doesn't know why he Fell. (Or sauntered vaguely downwards.)

Like Crowley, Job was once a favorite of God. But he has fallen out of that favor and been delivered to demons for reasons God refuses to tell him.

We the audience are meant to draw a parallel between Job and Crowley. We know this not just because of the speech Crowley cathartically gives Job's goats, in which everything he says to the goats can be just as easily applied to Job or himself, but from two other indications. Here's one:

Job is wearing Crowley's color.

The other is the minisode title, "A Companion to Owls." This phrase comes from the Book of Job, specifically Job 30:29. Job, lamenting what has happened to him, says,

I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.

In Biblical symbolism, dragon=serpent=snake=demon. And in some Mesopotamian beliefs--one of them Judaism--owls were associated with demons as well:

and

So the Job of the Bible is saying in this verse the same thing the Job of Good Omens says: God has forsaken me and delivered me to demons. Or even: God has forsaken me and I am now being treated like demons are treated.

And he's also saying something else. In the Bible, owls symbolize loneliness, desolation, and solitude. They're consistently depicted as living in barren, abandoned, isolated places. Seriously. Go search owl(s) in a Biblical concordance and read all 30 entries: it comes up a lot. If you're a companion to owls, you're alone (except for the owls) in the wilderness. You're forsaken.

WHOMST do we know whose signal color is yellow, who's a brother of demons, and who admits at the end of the episode that being alone and forsaken in the wilderness is lonely?

So. Job, a character whose claim to fame is that God punished him and he didn't know why, is a mirror character to Crowley. This on its own isn't enough to say definitely that Crowley doesn't know why he Fell, but combined with the three different stories he tells about his Fall, I think there's enough textual evidence to conclude that Crowley isn't entirely sure why he fell; he only has educated guesses. Either he knew and the memory was erased, or he was never told at all.

My question about Crowley's Fall is this: Who pushed him?

Was Crowley's Fall an act of God Herself, or was it an act of Heaven? What did the fucking Metatron have to do with it? What was Crowley's crime? When Aziraphale takes charge of Heaven and the Second Coming, will he read Crowley's file?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #the metatron #good omens analysis #crowley's fall #3 falls of crowley

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hope-inthedark · 7 days ago

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Good Omens, My Life, and My Soon-To-Be-Wife: A Tumblr Love Story

I joined Tumblr in 2019, shortly after I discovered a mini-series about an angel and a demon and the not-really-end of the world. I was consumed by it, by the story and the characters and the love that ran underneath it all, and so I came to Tumblr to find a community of people who felt the same.

What I was not expecting to find was the love of my life, but here we are.

J and I met through a mutual friend (hi, @ineffablefool ) who had recommended my fics on his blog often enough that J decided to read them. Soon enough, I started noticing repeated comments from one particular user on many of my fics, and I found myself looking forward to reading what this person thought of new chapters and works. J eventually messaged me on Tumblr, we became friends, and later on, we became more than that.

I’ll spare you the ins and outs of our relationship (because I am, and always will be, fairly private about my real life/name/identity when it comes to my fandom life), but know this: in more than 5 years of knowing J, and in nearly 4 of being in a romantic relationship with them, I have come to know and understand what it means to love another person with your entire being. I have learned so much about patience and grace, and I have laughed so much more and generally been so much happier in this phase of my life than in any one before it. I cannot wait to see what the future holds for us. Our relationship has spanned many years and many more miles, even stretching across an ocean as we’ve both navigated trans-Atlantic journeys that have lead to us finding a home together (at last). Edinburgh has been as good a home to me as I have ever had, and it’s been even better since J has been here with me.

So when J and I took a trip to London this past weekend to celebrate our engagement, we went to St. James’s Park. We found a bench, and we sat together on it, and we talked and thought about how absolutely mad and wonderful it is that Good Omens brought us here. It’s the love story that started ours, and there will always be part of me that is immensely glad that J and I found it when we did.

(There’s been a lot of talk lately about whether we as a fandom should continue to support and love Good Omens in light of the actions of one of its creators. To that I say: do what feels right to you. If you need to step away, I understand.

But to those of you who, like me, choose to remain in the fandom, know this: Good Omens is as much ours as it ever was his. We can claim the love we have found here, and we can celebrate it. We can mourn what we have lost while being grateful for what we have. And we can look forward to a happy ending, together, because it is what we - and Aziraphale and Crowley - have always deserved.)

I’ll sign off now and leave the rest of my sappy monologuing for my fiancée to handle. Thanks for listening.

And to @shesthewindandsea, my dearest love: cheers, darling. To the world, and to our happy ending.

#good omens #I met my wife on Tumblr.com: the hope-inthedark story #the bench #to the world #feel free to reblog!

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thefriendlyferretwriter · 5 months ago

Text

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #ennemies to lovers #rivals to lovers

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vidavalor · 3 months ago

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Hey there :) I love your metas and would like to know why you think they decided to show satan as an actual being, but not god? Or do you think we will see god in the final episode?

Hi there! 💕Thank you & very interesting questions. *rubs hands together* This'll be fun. I know God is big on reminding people to not avoid salads but I also have chocolate cake so we can have a bit of both, yeah? *gets plates*

To answer your questions, I've got to share some ideas about The Voice of God that I've had lately that I think could come about in The Finale. If it winds up anything like this, it might not just change how we see God in the series but also completely upend our understanding of the novel at the same time...

So, throughout Good Omens the tv series so far, we've had what appears to be three beings who are the ones in charge of Heaven and Hell: The Metatron, Satan, and, kind of out here in her own world a bit, God. The Metatron claims to be the spokesperson for God but that is in doubt in a lot of people's minds, my own included. I think he's a fraud who cannot speak to God and whose power is dependent upon the angels believing that he can. I'm pretty sure that The Finale will see the main characters challenge him on this and expose his deception, leading them to be able to overthrow him and create a better system in Heaven.

Satan and The Metatron are dependent upon one another for power so if one of them goes down, they both do. Exposing The Metatron would cause the angels to realize that God didn't judge the demons-- The Metatron did. This would mean that the angels and demons would realize that they're all just angels and that they are on the same side against both The Metatron and Satan. I'm pretty sure that's why those two villains were working together to get rid of Aziraphale and Crowley in The Final 15 and want Gabriel dead-- they don't want the angels and demons to talk to one another long enough to figure it out and start a revolution.

So, let's say that all of that is close to (or is) accurate and we get to a point in The Finale when we find out that Heaven is a sham and The Metatron can't talk to God. This then brings up a big question that the characters in Good Omens aren't really seen asking a lot but that will suddenly be as big to these angels as it is to us humans:

Does God exist?

We might think we already know the answer to this, right? Of course she does! She's the ball of light that sounds like Frances McDormand! She's narrated S1 for us and she's talked to Crowley and Aziraphale and Job! When you ask if I think we'll see God in the finale, this is the being that you're probably asking about, right? The God we listened to who narrated S1 to us was crazy about humanity, yes? You'd think she'd want to participate since, as God, she'd know that would be what living really is. Does she, as you ask, have a body? Is she a living being? We might think she really does exist because we've heard what she sounds like but I think we might not quite yet have the full picture on that, as you'll see...

We can see what they're doing with The Metatron and Satan more clearly right now, I think. These two are two sides of an evil coin. Heaven and Hell are equally terrible. Neither has any sense of individuality, boundaries, or bodily autonomy. They are full of toxic, harmful ideas and are inflicting horrific abuse on the angels and demons. How they are presented to us as beings also reflects those horrors.

The Metatron is the only supernatural character in the story who does not have a full human corporation. He is just a floating head and that is the, well, pardon the pun, but the most meta thing in this story imaginable. He presents himself as above the other angels and nearer to God by virtue of the fact that he just needs a head to get around and doesn't deal with having a human body. His presentation is saying to the other angels that they couldn't ever possibly live up to his standards of holiness because they might all be magical but they have bodies, which are, by definition, unholy. They aren't supposed to feel or need anything that requires a body and what's extra fun for them is that everything does so the angels are made to feel like they cannot win from the get-go.

Fuck it up and wind up in Hell? Now, you are evil and belong to Satan for eternity. Violence, torture and assault from which there is no escape awaits you. I'd argue that while Satan is an actual being, as you put it, because he was an angel before, that we might not have actually seen that true form yet.

In 1.01, he attacks Crowley while being basically vapor and using the voice of Freddie Mercury. (That's definitely the most bizarre-sounding sentence I've written this week lol.) In 1.06, he is coming to claim Adam and Adam is told by Crowley and Aziraphale right before that this is what's about to happen so I think that Satan appeared as Adam would think The Devil would look like. He was eleven at the time, so, a giant, angry, horned, red devil cliche beast that sounded like Benedict Cumberbatch was probably about accurate. Satan has so far appeared not necessarily as himself but as whatever being might be most torturous to the person he's showing up to or whatever being might meet his end goals-- which is how he is appearing as The Metatron With A Body in 2.06. He's coming to tempt Aziraphale to Hell and Aziraphale would only ever think the offer genuine if he thought it was coming from The Metatron so that's who Satan made himself appear to be.

Both Heaven and Hell are, as Crowley puts it in 2.06, toxic.

But when you bring The Voice of God into this, things start to really interesting.

While it's not hard to see both Satan and The Metatron as evil, God is a little more difficult. This is some of the basis of the theory that The Metatron cannot communicate with God. One of the things that makes the theory have weight is that it's very difficult to see this God that is narrating the story to us in S1 as someone who would actually be behind the atrocities that Heaven claims are her will.

I think most of us like The Voice of God. She is very sharp, very dry-witted, and she's curious about people. She clearly loves all her beings. She really doesn't seem like a vengeful God that could be behind drowning people or casting all these demons to Hell or wanting to murder a laundry list of living beings around Job. The God we heard in S1? She wouldn't believe that Job's children belonged to Job in the first place, let alone want to kill any kids, let alone to do so only to win a bet with Satan.

There's a moment in S1 that I think solidifies that The Voice of God isn't a villain and that's when Crowley arrives at Tadfield Manor with baby Adam. God's narration introduces to us the baby swap plot about to go down by telling us (paraphrased) that it's helpful to understand that events in human history do not happen as a result of people being good or bad but just as a result of people being people. When she says this, Crowley is participating in the misunderstandings of the scene, alongside the humans in it, and God is counting him among the people of which she is speaking.

That's basically the moment that it becomes impossible to see The Voice of God as a villain because here she is, seeing Crowley as human. Here she is, narrating his and Aziraphale's story, and we the audience, for much of S1, really want to tell Crowley and Aziraphale that she is, right? If anything, this is the one thing we're angry with her about...

When Crowley is talking to God alone in his flat and not getting any response, we're angry at the God we also like because we know that she loves Crowley but he doesn't feel that and is suffering. We want her to tell him. We want her to be more clear with Aziraphale, too, after just appearing outside Eden. Even still, though, she's likable in her narration and seems separate from The Metatron and Satan.

There is the feeling that, if The Voice of God is God, that she believes that the universe is the dominion of her creations and that she cannot interfere because to do so would be to force them all to follow her will. She doesn't want to rob her creations of their free will. There is no plan from God but for them to all be free. This would make her a just god and go along with her narration so it allows us to be understanding about the fact that she cannot actually talk that much to her creations directly or stop any terrible things from happening-- because it's up to them to do so, not her.

That may all well be true but, as we will see, there might be some evidence that The Voice of God might have a more complicated identity than we might originally have thought.

If the main characters overthrow The Metatron and Satan in The Finale, it's going to be as a result of the characters talking and realizing that none of them-- including Gabriel and the archangels-- have ever spoken to God. As a result, they will all know that they don't know how to reach her.

They've only ever reported to The Metatron. God didn't even turn up for Gabriel's trial-- a big deal in Heaven, since he was The Supreme Archangel. All of this will lead them to the realization that The Metatron is a fraud but these characters are angels. They believe that they were made by the God they haven't ever actually interacted with entirely for the purpose of serving that God.

When they find out that The Metatron cannot contact God, they're all going to be wondering if God exists and it might be here that we'd think that Crowley and Aziraphale might share their experiences of hearing The Voice of God, yes?

Except...

...think about those known experiences for a moment...

The Voice of God has only appeared (key word: appeared) to speak to three characters: Aziraphale, Crowley and Job. In the first scene we see in which she speaks to a character, it's to Aziraphale, when he is alone outside the wall of Eden, right?

In this moment, Aziraphale has just rebelled more than he probably ever has before. He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword and helped Crowley get out of Eden and now, here he is, standing outside the walls of Eden, having escaped himself and both thrilled and terrified to start a journey of exploring the Earth. He's been having an internal crisis as to whether or not he did the right thing. He knows that he did by his own moral compass but it's all very much against how Heaven works and he's unsure what it is that the God he believes made him and whom he serves actually wants him to do.

This is the exact moment when The Voice of God appears and has a short little chat with him about it-- dryly dubbing him "The Angel of The Eastern Gate" and asking him what he did with the flaming sword. This scene is fun because we all figure that, if this is God, surely she knows what Aziraphale did with the sword, but we get to watch as he lies straight to her ball of light. We think that she approves because nothing ever happens to Aziraphale as a result of this.

However, there's no real proof in this scene that The Voice of God was ever actually talking to Aziraphale. Aziraphale is the only other character in the scene and one could theorize that he has imagined God talking to him more than God actually talking to him.

We tend to never question the fact that, while God doesn't seem to be talking to anyone else in the story in S1, that she does briefly talk to Aziraphale. This makes sense to us because Aziraphale's role in Eden was a big deal in the whole series of events on Earth and we already feel like God feels that Aziraphale and Crowley are important because she's narrating their story. Not only do they appear to have been chosen to be in Eden to help jumpstart human life on Earth but they're important enough in everything for God to be telling us their story as she chats with us. Because they're our main characters we don't see anything off about God seeing them as main characters, too.

We actually use Eden in our minds as some of the foremost proof that God exists in Good Omens. These angels act like she must and Aziraphale's spoken with her so it must be true, yes?

Except... what if it's not?

What if Aziraphale was having a crisis of faith in Eden and basically imagined speaking with God?

What if The Voice of God isn't The Voice of Actual God (if God even exists) but rather The Voice of God in Aziraphale's Head?

We've never seen any proof that any of the angels or eventual demons have ever actually spoken with God, including prior to the creation of Earth. We assume that God is real because they all talk like she is but we've never been shown any concrete proof that they aren't all just believing they work for someone they've never met.

But, wait, you might say, what about Crowley and Job hearing her in the Job minisode, right? Isn't that proof?

Well... that's a bit suspect, too, and I'll show you why. It's largely hinted at in the sound mixing and context of that scene.

Like Aziraphale was outside the wall in Eden, Job was a man of faith in the midst of a massive crisis when we saw him. He and Sitis had been weathering what they believed was the wrath of God. Job's whole world was under siege and his children were in danger and his wife was begging him to go ask God for answers. When Crowley and Aziraphale come up on Job appearing to speak with God, several things are contextually important that suggest that this isn't quite what it appears to be.

Diluting the visuals is that, in this scene, the post-storm, dawn sun is starting to come through the clouds a bit, much in the way it was after the storm clouds of Eden were clearing when God appeared to Aziraphale in Eden. Job was under the light, praying and appearing to be communicating with God. Crowley and Aziraphale stop far back from Job and, when we're near them, we cannot hear God clearly. The key is in the sound mixing in this scene. When we're near Crowley and Aziraphale, God sounds like she's speaking in a wind tunnel ten miles away. We can catch snippets of words on the breeze but there's nothing tangible there. It would have been literally impossible for Crowley and Aziraphale to hear a single, complete sentence of any of this... and, based on what Job tells Sitis afterwards, he doesn't hear it, either. To add to this, Crowley is unreliable where this scene is concerned because, when it happens, he's drunk enough that we're shown him having trouble walking.

These two were drunk on food and wine in the midst of having moral crisis and watched a man pray under stormy, dawning daylight a half-mile away and think that, maybe, he might have been talking to God. That's it.

Job was in a state of madness and thinks he heard his own Voice of God when asked what happened the next day by Sitis. Crowley and Aziraphale think, from what they can see, that God really is talking to Job-- but they're so far back that they cannot hear basically anything that she's saying. They are both different kinds of intoxicated and likely seeing light and sound from the dwindling storm/emerging daybreak highlighting a man experiencing a kind of religious ecstasy and taking that for possible truth.

We hear her accurately when the camera gets closer to Job... but this all influenced by Aziraphale remembering these events as he reads them in his Bible in the bookshop, so the real is overlapping in this moment with the Biblical account... and it's also clear that Job doesn't remember much of anything he thinks that she said. He returns the next morning and tells Sitis that it was all too wonderful for him to comprehend and something something whales and ostriches. Basically, Job went a bit bonkers and convinced himself that he heard God and she was going on about different animals.

So, look at what we're saying here...

...if Job cannot remember what God said and Crowley and Aziraphale didn't hear it because they heard sounds on the wind and Crowley was drunk and Aziraphale thinks God had spoken to him before but was, that night, only speaking to Job... then from where, in the Good Omens universe, did the Job passage that is supposedly what God said to Job and was recorded in The Bible actually originate?

Who wrote it?

Who is the real Voice of God, when it comes to the Job passage and, likely, in general?

Who wrote the line that prompted Aziraphale to think back on the Job minisode in the first place-- the one that was the only thing which Gabriel could remember at first?

You know why this is all Gabriel can remember and why he looks awfully distraught at the recollection of it? Because Gabriel doubts the existence of God. He's been The Supreme Archangel for thousands of years and she's never spoken to him and The Metatron's a total bastard and God didn't even show up when Gabriel was thrown out of Heaven. What has he been clinging to all these years regarding her existence and his own sense of what the right path to take is? He's been clinging to the bit in The Bible that detailed what it was that God apparently said to Job.

Gabriel not only clings to this as proof of God's existence but he clings to it as proof that he is right to think what he does. Gabriel's own moral compass is at odds with The Metatron and Heaven, just like Crowley and Aziraphale's is. He is The Supreme Archangel of Heaven but he doesn't believe that the demons are all evil and beneath the angels. He actively works to keep angels and demons alike from The Metatron and Satan finding out that they are talking to one another. He wants to believe that God is not a villain and that she approves of this mentality and, as proof that she does, Gabriel clings to the line from Job where God told Job wistfully that she was there "when the morning stars sang together and all the Angels of God shouted for joy." He sees this as God supporting his mindset that the angels and demons are all angels of God and to mistreat the demons is wrong.

But... if The Voice of God is The Voice of God in Aziraphale's Head, then when we hear Frances McDormand, we're hearing Aziraphale.

When it came time to write what it was that God said to Job, though, it was Crowley and/or Aziraphale who actually wrote the passage below, which is why it sounds so much like how they view things:

Job, you've got questions for me? I've got questions *for you.* Do you know how I created the Earth? Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth, Job? Were you there when all the morning stars sang together and all the Angels of God shouted for joy? Do you know the rules of the Heavens? Did you set the constellations in the sky? Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you? Did you give wings to peacocks, Job, or teach the ostrich to run?

What is credited to God here are actually things that Crowley and Aziraphale did, as suggested by the Before the Beginning scene, when we see that Aziraphale was involved in the creation of Earth and Crowley designed the stars. The line to which Gabriel clings is one that God didn't say-- Crowley and/or Aziraphale wrote it, explaining Crowley's hesitation when he says to Aziraphale: "your, ah, boss... said that to Job" in response to Gabriel quoting it, as well as what it is that Aziraphale wants to talk about when he says "Crowley" upon finishing reading the bit of The Bible recounting the Job minisode-- most of which was actually written by he and Crowley.

Ok, so, if The Voice of God is really more like Aziraphale's Voice of God? This explains a few things...

It explains why we haven't heard Frances McDormand's voice speaking to any other beings besides Aziraphale and ones who are otherwise unreliable. The only being who reliably hears her is Aziraphale and that's because she is how he imagines The Voice of God. She is the one that lives is in his head and talks to him.

It also explains why her conversation with Aziraphale in Eden opens the 1.03 Cold Open and why the two instances where she shows up to Aziraphale are both very early on chronologically in Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship. It's showing that Aziraphale's Inner Voice of God is something that is always within him-- because she is him-- but that hearing The Voice of God in his head was something that was probably happening with more frequency in the earlier part of Aziraphale's story-- back when he was more on his own for long stretches of time and before he had Crowley more frequently in his life to talk with about how he felt about things.

Interestingly, the last scene of the Job minisode begins with Aziraphale sitting under the sun/light of God alone, afraid that he's about to fall, echoing some of the scene outside the wall at Eden... but ends with the shot of Crowley sitting with him, after supporting him and their mutual admittance that they're both lonely without the other. The Voice of God can be seen as something of a feature of Aziraphale's loneliness but maybe he has those conversations with her/himself less frequently from the Job minisode on because both his perspective on Heaven/Hell has changed and, just as importantly, he has Crowley to talk to.

After all, remember how we said that she showed up as Aziraphale was having a whole inner crisis in Eden? The same was true in the Job minisode. Not only was Aziraphale having a whole moral dilemma over what to do about Job's kids when he apparently hears The Voice of God speaking to Job but he's just recently seen Crowley again and they are basically on a little date.

Aziraphale, in the hours prior to hearing God in the Job minisode, has just tried food for the first time-- a lot of food lol-- and is flirting his way closer to sex. He's literally taking a romantic walk with his demon love when Frances McDormand cameos so the possibility that, while he's having a very nice night, he's also internally having a bit of an ox ribs and lust guilt delusional freakout seems kind of high.

So, now, think about what else happens if Frances McDormand's Voice of God is Aziraphale's inner Voice of God... Gabriel has some scenes in S2 that could be seen as playing around with this a bit.

The first is Aziraphale bringing up the concept of an author when talking with Gabriel about the book organization project. While there is humor in the fact that Gabriel can't remember what an author is-- how could he when he can't fully remember who he is?--- there's also something else at play here, too.

Gabriel's idea for how to organize the books sounds balmy but it's secretly kind of brilliant-- especially when taken as a metaphor for how to view people. Gabriel can't be bothered with categories, genres, types, labels, or titles. All he's interested in is the first letter of the first sentence on the first page of every book. While we're laughing at this because we know that he's going to end up with most of the books just clumped together under a few sections like the one we see him spending time in-- the "I" section, full of "it's" and "I" beginnings of books-- that's also the point.

We have more in common than meets the eye and Gabriel is insightful enough to bypass the labels we put on others and ourselves and just get to the common origin stories and experiences. Aziraphale asks if his plan is to sort the books alphabetically by author and Gabriel says he is by the first letter of the first sentence-- ironically, Gabriel is sorting by author, really, but he's matching up authors based on what they've written, not by their similar names.

Why this matters is because we now have this scene between Gabriel and Aziraphale where the concept of an author is in play. Gabriel can't remember what the word means but his project is based around what is actually a really deep understanding of one. At the same time, Aziraphale knows what the humans refer to as an author but is struggling to claim authorship of his own life. The word author was also at the core of this struggle for him in S1 when he prayed for help in stopping Armageddon. What was it that Aziraphale said he was looking to reach when he prayed?

"A higher authority."

Aziraphale was looking to reach God or anyone with the power to stop Armageddon and his efforts to find someone else to be that higher authority were unsuccessful and that is because we are all the authors of our own lives.

We are God.

Aziraphale is his own higher authority. He is the author of his own plan-- his own life.

And, if The Voice of God in the series that we hear is really Aziraphale?

Then look at that moment when Gabriel pulled a book off the shelf of the bookshop-- one without a title or an author, though someone has written it-- and it turned out to be one with which we're very familiar:

As Gabriel works on his book organization project, we get this trippy moment when he opens up and reads from the first page of a copy of a book that we all know as Good Omens. There is evidence that this is different from just the "lol Aziraphale is a Doctor Who fan" joke elsewhere in the season. This Clue comes in the shot showing us the book itself from multiple angles in Gabriel's hands-- and the fact that the cover is not the same as our copies of the book. It is a red clothbound hardcover with no dust jacket and no visible title or author printed anywhere on it.

The show has already established that Terry Pratchett and that other guy exist in the Good Omens universe because their solo books are visible at different points in the series. When it establishes that the novel Good Omens exists within the Good Omens universe, though, it does so only by establishing that the text of book we know does. The title of it is not visible and neither are any evidence of its authors in our world, despite their existence in this fictional one.

Moreover, by showing us the first page of what we know to be the Good Omens novel, they're showing us a part of the book that we've already heard before, near its beginning. This bit highlighted on the screen to us-- the opening sentence and first, full paragraph of the novel-- were God's narration over the end of the Eden scene in the first episode. Most of the narration of The Voice of God in S1, as we know, is taken from passages of the Good Omens novel and the show establishes in S2 with this Gabriel scene that the text of Good Omens exists in an unmarked book in Aziraphale's bookshop.

I think it's all saying pretty emphatically that Good Omens, in the Good Omens universe, was written by Aziraphale.

The only way that works then is if the voice we've been hearing both read this book to us and seeming to speak to Aziraphale is of Aziraphale's own creation, which would then mean that Frances McDormand is also, essentially, playing Aziraphale. She is just what God sounds like in Aziraphale's head. She is what Aziraphale imagines God to be. She is, effectively, Aziraphale.

This then suddenly makes everything about God's narration make a lot more sense, right? God's love of humanity and her interest in behavioral science and her cheeky, dry-as-a-bone humor is all very Aziraphale. God's love of Crowley and the way that she approves of him and Aziraphale's relationship and sees them as people like her other beings is what Aziraphale believes would be true of the loving God that he believes in and is fundamentally true of how he views their relationship and Crowley himself. God's ability to speak Crowley and Aziraphale's language and the novel being written in it becomes less that God can do so because she's God and more because she's really just Aziraphale.

The whole novel itself takes on quite a different perspective if you look at it as the book above that Gabriel found when he was organizing the books. The one that, as of S2, it was too dangerous to have labeled at all but that we can theorize was written by Aziraphale and is wrapped up and bound in Crowley's signature color and that color of love-- red.

The book we know as Good Omens is, in the Good Omens universe, a book that Aziraphale wrote for Crowley in which they are two of the characters.

This is, more than anything else we've seen so far, the real book of life.

I think that it's saying that if you were to finish the series and find this to be true, you could then go pick up the novel again and read it as if Aziraphale wrote it, with the narrative passages maybe in his Voice of God Frances McDormand voice but with the knowledge that The Voice of God is really Aziraphale himself.

I love this idea because it means that the tv series that keeps giving us more information that reframes our prior understanding of things might wind up ending with a twist where the nature of The Voice of God in the series is such that it won't even just make rewatching the show a extra fun (although it will) but it'll make it so that you'll be able to go all the way back and read the novel in a different way as well, now with the perspective that Aziraphale is meant to be its author.

This also would be fun because it'd then be viewing the tv series as the canon and the book as what Aziraphale wrote happened and any discrepancies and changes as Aziraphale's writing choices. It means you get to read the passages in the book that are descriptive of Crowley or of he and Aziraphale together from the viewpoint that Aziraphale wrote them, which honestly makes them even funnier.

This would mean that God, as she's been presented to us so far in the series, is an actual being because she's Aziraphale and that we will see her in the finale because she's been a part of our main character all along.

So... there's then just one question left... and it's the same one we had earlier on in the meta:

Does God exist?

If The Voice of God is Aziraphale's inner Voice of God then is the story going to suggest that a real God does exist or is it going to suggest that she doesn't or is that going to be left as an open question?

There are a couple of paths that they could take-- two that I can see and likely some I haven't.

One is Agnes Nutter. I know a lot of people have theories that she's actually God. They could suggest or imply that a bit. In some ways, they might already have done so, as others have suggested.

The other path is the one that I think they might take, though, regardless of what they do or don't suggest with Agnes, which is to leave it so that Aziraphale is The Voice of Frances McDormand God and it's an open question as to whether or not an actual God exists.

The reason why I think it's that path that they're going to take is that Good Omens has a lot of themes around recognizing and claiming personal power and living to your own moral code. It's also very much aligning these supernatural beings in its story with the humans in it and it might just be the writer in me but I think it would be a stronger ending to have the angels and demons wondering just as much as the humans if God exists than it would be to definitively give an answer.

They're all going to know that The Ineffable/Great/Divine Plan in the sense that Heaven was saying existed for eons doesn't exist but the angels and demons will be left wondering along with the humans if they have a creator and if that creator made them for any particular reasons... just like how we wonder those things, too.

As much as the story is a religious satire, it's also a romance, and I can't see an ending of this story doing much to say that Crowley is wrong for his romantic notions that he and Aziraphale were made for each other. It's probably going to just leave the existence of God as an open question.

The story is already going to provide the characters with some much-needed peace from the fact that they'll know that what they endured was a judgement of The Metatron and not God. That and the resulting more peaceful system in Heaven will allow Crowley and Aziraphale to go live their life together without as much fear and they will do that. They might be able to put a name and a title on that book and own the authorship of their story. Even if some might label it as fiction, Gabriel, at least, sees it as belonging alongside the other, human-penned books on the I shelf in the bookshop, and he won't be the only one by the end of the story.

Not knowing then if God exists at all will yield just as many questions... but, if they had all the answers, where would be the sense of wonder in that? It will certainly give them some things to talk about for eternity together. 😊

#good omens #good omens meta #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #god good omens #the voice of god #the archangel fucking gabriel #a conversation with owls #good omens eden

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val-of-the-north · 1 year ago

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More observations for the trailer I am going insane!!!

I can't claim the original observation of this candle tree detail is mine, but it's from a Japanese Twitter user, here's a screenshot of the post and a link to it as well [x]

The rest of this observation IS mine though, so let's get to it:

With all the talk of cardinal sin, Messmer having a few parallels to Lucifer as pointed out by some friends of mine [x] I have to wonder if he is the cause of a speculated first burning of the Erdtree.

If this is the first time you have heard about this concept, I'll give a short summary. You know how Leyndell is covered in ash by the time we reach it in-game, and how that goes unexplained? We know for a fact that must be the Erdtree's ashes because after we claim the Rune of Death and the Erdtree burns even more, the capital is entombed in it.

We are also told that the Age of Plenty, an age in which the Erdtree gave physical blessings from its sacred sap, swiftly came to a close and the tree had to be changed to simply an object of faith...

So the theory claims that the reason why the Age of Plenty ended so swiftly was due to the Erdtree being set on fire. In theory spaces, the go-to culprit for this speculated action has often been the Gloam-Eyed Queen, with her connections to fire (Blackflame specifically) and Destined Death, but now there's the possibility that this was all Messmer's doing after all. Promotional material and dialogue seems to really denote his affinity for scorching and setting things ablaze.

This probably also means he is the inventor of that scary flame construct that according to Miyazaki as per this interview [x] was an old war machine, no doubt used during this "unsung battle".

Another important part of Messmer's design is the two snakes, which point us back to the Age of Plenty! Godfrey likely ruled during and directly after that time, and the arenas were likely built because of him. It had to be during Godfrey's rule because by the time Radagon became Elden Lord the practices of the colosseums had died down, as told to us by the Ritual Sword and Shield Talismans:

One of the more interesting aspects of the gladiatorial battles that once took place is the snake symbolism on the gladiators' armor.

So the snake was a symbol of a generic "traitor to the Erdtree", and it predated Rykard's blasphemy by an entire age at least... so what if it wasn't generic at all and it represented Messmer himself? He might have been the perpetrator of a betrayal so foul that Marika removed all traces of his existence from her empire's history, but kept the symbol of the snake as a spiteful reminder of him and all other subsequent traitors. After all, she does seem to have power over which one of her children gets remembered or not, and if not her, then the collective of the Golden Order:

Do note that we don't know when she said this. It could have been while she was still at the height of her rule or right before the Shattering. What we do know for a fact is that the soulless demigods inside the Walking Mausoleums have no known history to speak of, which is quite unlike Godwyn, one of the more accomplished members of the family. So yeah, being forgotten by history might be something the Golden Order does to those they deem unfit, so Messmer could be a likely candidate for such treatment... except instead of doing nothing noteworthy he did TOO much lol.

Now I gotta wonder if Marika hated him more or less than her Omen babies. One could argue that locking them down in a sewer close to where she lives was done more as an obligation than any true resentment. She could have sent them to the Shadow Lands if she really wanted them gone and unaccessible, as that place seems filled with Crucible-related things...

I am not saying she was a good mother to them because she didn't kick them to the Shadow Lands, but perhaps she DID have some small affection for them that she really couldn't follow through with.

Of course, maybe she just couldn't banish them anymore after banishing Messmer for whatever reason (maybe she cut-off a connection to that realm?). However, the most likely possibility is that he WAS known like the many soulless demigods and that Mohg and Morgott predate him. It's just that while those two were born undesirable through no fault of their own and were thus only hidden away, he BECAME undesirable which was worse in Marika's eyes so he gets the extra banishment and the removal of all of his history... there are so many possibilities...

#elden ring #messmer the impaler #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring dlc #hi I am really excited if you couldn't tell #I'll try not to think about it too much for now since otherwise I'm gonna blow up because the info will never be ENOUGH #still I'm gonna speculate if some new cool revelation comes up #val-post

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munnmolads · 24 days ago

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The Sunshower in Gem Affection and its meaning - Analysis and Theory

I really want to talk about the sunshower in Gem Affection that could be really important relating to Abysswalker. Spoilers for both Gem Affection and Abysswalker myth.

Disclaimer: I'm not from these cultures/countries where these myths and folklore originate from, so feel free to correct me since I'm just at the mercy of googling stuff. I'm trying to keep it simple just not to bog down into too many details.

Gem Affection is one of those memories I could talk about endlessly. As a summary for the memory - MC and Rafayel end up in a "alternative reality" where they are in a middle of desert. MC finds herself at a palace, her being forced to take a role of a princess who has run away from the palace to be with her beloved. Rafayel finds his way to the palace back to MC's side, and they work together to find their way back to Linkon City.

Mostly I want to talk about this time is the ending for this memory - after MC and Rafayel find a map and where they probably could have been teleported from, they sneak out of the palace and find the mural where they can get back to their own time.

Relevance to Abysswalker and the connection points

Anyone who is familiar with the Abysswalker myth can probably point out how similar both of these storylines are. The memory itself also references this at many points - MC sympathizes with the Princess a lot, kind of feeling a connection to her despite never meeting her and how Rafayel helps her to escape the palace.

I do believe MC and Rafayel had teleported to the time where they are in Abysswalker - just after the last chapter of Abysswalker where MC leaves the palace to find Rafayel after she remembers him again when she made her final escape from the palace. It's mentioned in Gem Affection that the princess hasn't returned, and no one knows if she ever will. I might do another separate post about the all connections to Abysswalker (and what is different) later, but this post is more about the sunshower in Gem affection.

Rafayel is a nine-tailed fox - Does the sunshower reveal what happens after Abysswalker?

If we look back to the kindled moment in Gem Affection, MC starts playing her role as the princess, claiming to hear Rafayel is a mystical fox spirit from a distant land. Someone pointed this out in Reddit that this could mean nine-tailed fox, which has interesting implications. They often are depicted as tricksters, disguising as a beautiful man or a woman to seduce others.

Considering the setting for their reunion in the palace where the messenger brought Rafayel to MC as a tribute and they continue the facade with the guise of him being her "haughty beauty" - it's quite an accurate description of their situation. It is also very fitting to the siren theme he has going through the game.

I wanted to point this out since it's relevant to the sunshower - it's a natural phenomenon when it's raining when the sun is shining. According to wikipedia and this article, it's also known in folklore as the Fox's wedding among many other tricksters such as devils or witches.

I'm leaving this article which tells about the tales in Japan which say sunshowers has regional differences in meaning. It can be interpreted as a good luck omen or seeing them means a omen of death.

In the typical LADS storytelling manner, there's no clear answer with this reference which one it is. If we think about it all taking place in the Abysswalker timeline where rain is unheard of, it could be that Rafayel ended up taking MC's heart and the seas are finally returning.

The other option is that they got married in that timeline - hence the earlier mention about Rafayel being a fox spirit. I also am big believer in MC being a witch in a previous timeline (which I think might be Rafayel's next myth theme - but that's a post for another time), which also aligns with the sunshowers having folklore relating to witches and them getting married. As to what that means with the sunshower... I'm not entirely sure. Maybe the naive optimist in me hopes taking the heart doesn't have to be actually literal, and maybe they finally have some good luck on their side.

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #lnds rafayel #lnds lore #lads theories

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dollarstoreartsupplies · 1 year ago

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OKAY here is the completely nonserious percy jackson npmd au thats been taking up space in my brain for weeks now because it simply needs somewhere to go:

New campers-

Stephanie Lauter:

I'm not overcomplicating this one: Steph is a daughter of Aphrodite

Solomon Lauter saw the hottest woman at some party where he was campaigning, and he’s is nothing if not ‘passionate’ and successful (by design) so it worked out

As far as Steph knows until her teens her mom ran off on her dad when she was a baby, and that’s fine, she doesn't give a shit, she’s never looked into it

Until, when she’s sixteen (because somehow she’s made it this long) Grace Chasity starts a rumor, her dad sends her to Abstinence Camp and the monster in the woods chases her right into camp halfblood

She gets claimed pretty promptly and Is Not A Fan

She’s thinks it’s pretty sexist and conceited and stupid and problematic for a whileeeee and refuses to look into it any more than ‘pink and pretty and misogynistic’ which like, doesn’t go well for her but she’s nothing if not stubborn

She’s fluent in French because of her mom but she doesn’t know that until she gets to camp and is genuinely so pissed off that the one school subject she thought she was good at isn’t even on her own merit

She’s got some vague appearance manipulation stuff, and once she realizes she does she exclusively uses it to change her hair color and make her eyeliner look good

She’s probably like camp way more if she knew about it earlier but the combo of her had having kept it from her and who her mom is and all the stupid games/worship expectations piss her off and she bails on most of the events/training/campfires out of spite

She definitely uses some close up weapon like a dagger or short sword

Grace Chastity:

Grace is a daughter of Ares

(Her finding this out goes very poorly)

Im ngl i feel like somehow Ares ended up with Mark Chastity, I refuse to examine this thought but i think Mark Chastity had his first gay experience and woke up the next morning with a baby there somehow because Ares thought it would be hilarious and wanted to see what would happen

She gets chased to camp with Steph from Abstinence Camp and is fucking livid, the whole thing is insanely scareligious and ridiculous and everyone there is going to hell and she is so heated that Ares, once again thinking it’s really funny and slightly proud, claims her on the spot

Grace Chastity is out here with her sacreligious two gay dads

She really resents specifically who her dad is because in her head she is made for peace and love and spreading the word of god, she hates the idea of war or violence on principal, so she spends a lot of time at the strawberry fields or Pegusus stables because she does really like the flying horses :)

She refuses to take place in any camp activities or training and all her siblings hate her

At a certain point she’s able to harness a level of odikinesis (enhancing feelings of hatred and war) and it doesn’t go well

Chiron honestly is forcing her to stick around because he’s REALLY so very nervous about how the fuck it would go to have Grace loose on the mortal world right after she finds everything else

Her weapon is an axe

Obviously

AND THEN we’ve got the established campers-

Peter Spankoffski:

Okay so forgive me for my special little blorbo-fication of my guy but:

Pete’s a son of Nyx

He super fucking shouldn’t be, there aren’t demi-god children of Nyx, just monsters and minor gods, but him and Ted were kind of just… thought experiments? Like she was bored and very curious so she took a really shitty human and had a child with him (Ted) and then, in what Nyx’s head was barely any time at all but in human years was straight up 18 years, has another one (Pete)

Ted raises Pete for a couple years, but children of Nyx in general are just bad omens, and human children of Nyx who probably shouldn’t exist are no exception, so they get hunted down by monsters hard

Ted dies or disappears by the time Pete’s ten or eleven and he ends up at a camp

He’s a year round camper and lives in the hermes cabin because obviously Nyx doesn’t have a cabin (look okay i know that percy fixed that, but that bit of lore where any unclaimed or minor god children live at the hermes cabin is so fucked up and rife with angst and hurt/comfort potential is too much for me to resist so this is a universe where percy jackson does not exist)

His luck is horrible, like it’s a magical demigod ability how horrible his luck is and he’s well on his way to systematically having broken every single one of his bones one by one, they know him so well in the apollo cabin

NO ONE (and I mean NO ONE) likes him and he’s considered a camp wide jinx so he takes one for the team and personally exempts himself from any team events like capture the flag because no one is willing to have him on their side

A lot of newer campers generally assume he’s an Athena kid because he really enjoys learning/strategy/by-the-book stuff because it’s a lot easier than trying to get involved with the more dangerous athletic shit

Because his mom is the goddess of night he’s very into outer space

His weapon is a bow and arrow, but he’s pretty good with most range weapons/anything that he can calculate aim for

Ruth Fleming:

Ruth is a daughter of Demeter and she’s pissed about it

Her dad told her about being a demigod a couple years before she went to camp but he didn’t know who her mom was so she got very very into greek mythos and shit and was convinced she was a daughter of Athena or Aphrodite or someone else nine-year-old-girl-cool and was fucking devestated when it was the goddess of farming

Like, she’ll do all the things she’s expected to (helping in the strawberry fields, weeding, etc..) but she’s going to complain about it

She doesn’t even have any cool powers to go with it!!! it’s so unfair >:(

She’s also involved with the camp’s theater department and is convinced it’s rigged against her because of who her mom is in favor of Apollo and Dionysus kids (in fairness…. it probably is) which is why she’s always stuck on tech

She’s definitely got a crush of Richie’s dad

She’s a summer only camper for sure, monsters don’t hunt her down for any reason in particular or en mass so she can get away with it and fight off the ones that do, but she does kind of take offense to the fact that even monsters don't want her (even if they’d just kill her)

Her childhood greek mythology obsession carries over so she knows every dumb little detail about every myth and will bring it up unprompted

Her main weapon is just a celestial bronze sword but i feel like when she first got to camp at 12 she bribed a child of Iris to change the color of it so it looks like… rose gold lmao

Richie Lipschitz:

Richie is a son of Dionysus

And sure, okay, I know what you're thinking: that doesn’t really fit…?

But to that I say oh boy it does, just not for Richie

For his twin brother Trevor however–

Richie is kind of like the black sheep of his cabin, not that there is many of them, because his brother is perfectly cookie cutter what a Dionysis kid should be (he’s a theater kid, he throws good parties, he’s generally popular) and Richie is not

They both started camp at probably 10-ish, a little earlier than traditional because there were two of them which drew more monsters

His eyes are violet though which he thinks is very cool so he dyes his hair purple to match them

He sorta-kinda has chlorokinesis, specifically for grape and strawberry vines, which a. he also thinks is very cool, and b. he uses as an excuse to get out of training so he can hang out with Ruth

He's also really good at swimming and trying to work up the courage to ask his dad if he'd possibly be able to grant him the ability to turn into a dolphin but just like... only when he wanted tot and he could turn back

He really wishes his was an Apollo kid (though, obviously he’d never say that out loud) because of the artistic stuff, so he sort of just tries to gaslight everyone that because his dad is the god of the Arts that includes physical art like drawing so obviously that’s why he’s good at it

He’s a summer-only camper too but for the dumbest reason; their parents gave the twins a choice, but Trevor wanted to be able to go back to school to do school plays and Richie can’t watch anime at camp so they chose summer only

His weapon is just a normal sword but he’s campaigning to get a child of Hephaestus to make him a Katana

(They’re all three kind of outcasts in terms of their own godly parents, because Ruth and Richie don’t really fit the mold of ‘normal child of [blank]’ and Pete’s kind of just generally disliked because of his parentage, so they all sort of came together as friends out of necessity but now they’re just actually buddies and they hang out)

anyway who knows if ill do anything with this but its FUN and id love to talk about it forever they're just little demigod losers I love them

#npmd #percy jackon and the olympians #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #im THINKIN ABOUT THEM #id love to write something with them but we'll see if I can think of a full plot #pjo #nerdy prudes must die #starkid

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