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flamencodiva · 1 year

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Underworld's Princess 7

Description: While the Greek God’s and Goddesses hold divine power, there is also a responsibility that comes with that very power. What happens when Illiara, or Y/N as she likes to call herself, decides that those very responsibilities aren’t worth the power? Prepare for the wild adventure of Y/N finding who she truly is, fighting against her blood and her love, as she attempts to break free from the cursed bonds placed upon her and to finally live free.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!GreekGoddess!Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: Language, Blood, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count:4877

Beta: @watermelonlipstick (thank you so much for beating this hun! you have no idea how much I appreciate you!)

Also going to thank @writercole and @jensengirl83 you ladies are my ride or die and I love you both soooooo much!

Book Cover on Main Masterlist by: @talesmaniac89 and Dividers by @firefly-graphics Aesthetic Created by: Me

Underworld’s Princess Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Sam and Dean had driven to Parthenon only to find that the professor had left to lecture at the local college. Professor Nedra Athena Athanasiou (a-tha-nah-see-ou) was beginning to pick up steam on the Ancient Greek Gods when the Winchesters slipped in, having been directed to the class by a sleepy-looking coed. .

“We start to see that civilization and different societies now segregate based on the gods they worship,” Professor Athanasiou lectured.

“Like Sparta worshiping Ares and Athens Athena?” A student called out, raising their hand somewhat pointlessly at the same time they spoke.

“Exactly right,” the professor acknowledged. “But many other gods had their worshipers, and that included Hades. Most notably, when one invokes the name of a God, you garner their attention. So, when invoking Hades, simply call upon the overseer of justice in the afterlife. He determined the worth of your soul.”

“But didn’t he kidnap Persephone?” The girl who’d asked seemed genuinely disturbed, taking notes furiously with eyebrows twisted in concentration.

“Ah,” professor Athanasiou chuckled, “The famed story of Hades and Persephone. There are many versions of the story. But I have discovered an ancient tablet in the very sacred area of the Archeon river in Ephyra. Rumors circulate that the river is the gateway to the Underworld. While Hades did not have a large following of worshipers, he had a small cult, the Oracles of the Dead. These were simple seers who could predict the death of someone. They would commune with Thanatos and then see the judgment of the soul Hades had placed on them.”

“Doesn’t that mean that they were risking Hades' wrath? I mean, to worship the dead or underworld was a bad omen, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, that is the assumption,” professor Athanasiou agreed with her student. “And yet, Lord Hades is said to be compassionate when it comes to grief. The Necromanteion of Acheron was a place for mourners to commune with their lost loved ones. It is for those who respected Hades and his rule over the souls of our world. Considering that most stories are about Zeus and his exploits.” She paused for dramatic effect. “We all can see how just because he oversees the souls and determines their worth, Hades was a pussy cat in comparison.”

Much of the class chuckled.

To his surprise, Dean found himself interested in the volley between them.. A small part of him wondered about the god and his wife.

“If Hades didn’t kidnap Persephone,” he called out, “then what’s the skinny there?”

“Dean, what are you–” Sam began, quickly cut off by the professor.

“That is the conversation we were supposed to have,” she chuckled. “But Hades stumbled upon the young goddess when she approached his gate. She had demanded entrance to see how things worked. That, and she was curious about the lord of the Underworld.” The class laughed again when she put bogeyman-like emphasis on ‘underworld’, and Sam thought it sounded genuine. She was good–not every professor could keep college kids on the edge of their seats about old stories like this.

Dean leaned his elbows on his thighs, resting his head in his hands as he listened. Sam wasn’t sure what angle his brother was going for, but whatever kept Dean invested in research was fine by him.

“Hades knew that Demeter would not want her daughter consorting with the dead and other creatures of the Underworld, so he demanded she leave,” professor Athanasiou continued. “Hades had Cerberus guard the gates and deny entry to the young Persephone. But the young Goddess was determined to explore the Underworld and learn about its ruler. You see,” she paused and looked at her students. “It’s hotly debated whether Hades was a true Olympian.”

“Wouldn’t calling him an Olympian mean he had a throne on Olympus?” A student asked from the back of the room.

“And therein lies the debate,” the professor announced, “For one to be considered an Olympian, one must have a throne on Olympus. But Hades is a part of the Olympic Gods as he is the third brother to Zeus, and he helped both to defeat the Titans and imprison them. This is the paradox we find ourselves in.”

“Persephone brought three gifts for Cerberus. Each head wanted something different,” she progressed. “The first head to her left loved balls. The middle head was fond of bones to chew on, and the third head loved to eat fresh meat.”

Professor Athanasiou used her body to act out the actions she narrated. Dean couldn’t help but smirk at the professor's teaching method, but perked up when she continued the story.

“Once Persephone was sure she gained Cerberus’ trust,” she narrated, “the young Goddess made her way towards the river where the ferryman Charon awaited. As we all know, Charon is the ferryman who takes souls to Lord Hades to be assessed and placed in Tartarus, where one is tortured for all eternity. Or the Elysian fields where you live your days in peace.”

Dean raised his hand, “So this is the Greeks’ version of the uh, pearly gates and the deep fryer?” He glanced around when the students near him snickered at the rough gestures above and below he’d made, the apparent annoyance on his face only decipherable to Sam as covering up a touch of self-consciousness.

“One can make that assessment, yes.” The professor offered him a smirk. “I’m sorry, you seem rather new to my class and –”

“I do apologize, Ma’am,” Dean offered. “I’m looking to transfer and I was told this class was taught by a goddess, who is passionate about Greek History and Mythology. I have to say they were right. .”

“Hmmm,” the professor blushed and winked at him. “I hope my lecture so far has wine and dined you today. Thought you might want to tone the flirting down a bit. ”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Dean chuckled.

“Now,” professor Athanasiou continued, “Persephone would sneak into the Underworld and shadow Lord Hades for days. She watched as he passed judgment on the souls that entered the Underworld. She could see that his eyes were filled with sadness and loneliness. Something that had the young goddess’s heart ache. She didn’t like seeing the Lord of the Underworld in pain, much less that he was technically her Uncle. Then again, these are the Gods we are discussing, but that is a discussion for another day. Anyway, seeing Hades look sad and lonely propelled the young Goddess to reveal herself.”

Professor Athanasiou paced in front of her desk as she continued. Persephone had begun to annoy Hades with trivial questions such as his favorite hobby and what he thought of the stars. Dean couldn’t help but wonder why the Goddess of Agriculture wanted to be with a God who handled dead souls day in and day out.

Dean continued to listen intently as the professor reached the climax.

“For all the time that Persephone had gone to visit Hades,” she stated, “Her mother, Demeter, had begun to notice. Demeter was very protective of her daughter and was horrified that her precious Louloúdi—flower for those of you who have not taken Greek yet.”

She chuckled along with other students in the class.

“So, she was horrified to see her daughter communicating and intimately touching the Lord of the Underworld. Now mind you, intimately to Demeter was Persephone linking arms with Hades as he led her deeper into his realm.”

Professor Athanasiou paused and took a deep breath. Her eyes roamed over all the students in attendance before falling on Dean’s intense stare.

“This is where the myth coincides with what was written on the tablet I found,” she held Dean’s gaze as she moved on. “Demeter went to Zeus and accused Hades of kidnapping her daughter and imprisoning her in the Underworld. Of Course, Persephone being Zeus’s daughter, he was outraged at the thought. But then again, he felt sorrow for his brother, who spent much of his time in solitude. So, Zeus called upon Hades and Persephone and demanded to know what was happening. Well, to make this incredibly long story short,” she paused as her students laughed.

Sam couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad look on the professor’s face.

“Zeus knew that Persephone was curious but had forbidden her from seeing Hades. However, Persephone ignored Zeus’s warnings and snuck her way into the Underworld and to the Elysian fields. There she took a pomegranate from the tree of knowledge and took a bite. She had six seeds in her mouth and was about to take another when Hades stopped Persephone.”

The professor nodded and walked across the front of the lecture hall. She paused and took a deep breath before turning back to her students.

“Hades gazed at her with fire in her eyes before she pulled him in for a fierce kiss that melted the cold heart of the Lord of the Underworld.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “it was at this moment that the woven tapestry of the Fates had begun to glow. This was meant to happen.”

Dean huffed and let out a snort. He remembered dealing with one of the Fates and wasn’t interested in a round two.

“You see, fate has a funny way of working. And the three Fates, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, forsaw the one thing Zeus could not. Hades and Persephone would have a powerful child who would not bend to Zeus’s will. For you see, the Gods all had to follow Zeus’s will, and even though Hades could technically usurp his brother, he chose not to. Hades is very content with his life in the Underworld, and with Persephone by his side, he saw no need to be amongst the Gods of Olympus. But his youngest daughter was rumored to be the one who will never bend to the word of Zeus, for she would hold a power to rival his own. And should Zeus continue to fight Fate,” the professor chuckled, “the young Goddess would be his downfall.”

Dean rolled his eyes. This was getting him and Sam no closer to finding this Illiara. He was about to get up when the professor cleared her throat.

“This is what Fate had in store. I just happened to find a piece of the tapestry found to prove my claim that the stories of Hades and Persephone are all about suppressing what one does not understand.”

Dean felt his breath hitch as a pair of violet eyes stared back at him. The professor's picture showed a woman with shades of violet and dark purple in her hair standing atop a hill overlooking the world. She looked ethereal to Dean, and something about her pulled at his heart, even if it was just a picture. But something else caught Dean’s eye: a figure in the background, bright green eyes looking at the goddess as her hair flowed in the wind. Something flashed in Dean’s mind.

‘Find her and guide her. But your task is not easy, vessel of the archangels. You will be tested and pushed to your limits as you rise, Hero of the Underworld.’

Dean shook his head at the sensation and groaned. Whatever that was, he had no time to dwell on it. He had to find this Illiara and send her packing back to where she belonged, the Underworld.

“You okay?” Sam asked, concern flashing on his face.

“Fine,” Dean mumbled as he turned his attention back to the professor.

“It seems our time is up,” she said as students grumbled. “I know, I know.” she held her hands up in surrender. “But I do have one assignment for you. Visit the replica of the Parthenon in Nashville,” she announced, her eyes holding on to Dean’s gaze. “You won’t regret it, plus it's extra credit, as long as I get a report on anything interesting you find.”

The Winchesters waited patiently for the rest of the students to filter out of the lecture hall, digesting the story. But on top of the words, Dean’s mind was on the picture of the famed Illiara. He walked over to the projection and tilted his head. Something about the eyes called to him, the deep violet seeming to come alive as he continued to stare. The hair seemed to move with unseeable wind ;the white, lavender and purple mix appeared to sway, hypnotizing Dean.

“Dean.”

Sam’s voice and snapping fingers broke Dean out of his trance.

“Huh?” he called out, returning his focus to the present.

The professor and Sam seemed to be looking at Dean curiously.

“I was just telling your brother here that if you want to know more about Persephone and Hades, there is a book I have published. Though it hasn’t been released yet, I do have an advanced copy I could give you.”

Sam thanked the professor as he took the hefty manuscript in his hands. At that moment, Dean received an important call from their friend James. James had met Dean on a vampire hunt before having to save his mom and Jack from Apocalypse world. James said that a hunter nearby needed their help with several monsters they had never seen before. Dean shot Sam a look, signaling to the younger one that it was time to go to work. Once they were gone, professor Athanasiou let out a small chuckle before a bright light engulfed her.

There stood the Goddess Athena, smiling as she gazed at the door the Winchester Brothers had exited from.

“The cogs of Fate are in motion,” she sighed as her owl flew into the lecture hall and perched on her shoulder. “Bubo, you might need to keep an eye on them. Be my eyes and ears and guide them in the right direction,” she told the owl, letting her index finger caress him gently.

The owl simply hooted before disappearing.

“Now,” she said to herself, “time to make sure that Illiara follows the right path as well. I have my work cut out for me.”

Y/N sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. None of the books had any information she was looking for. It would be hard to help if there wasn’t enough information. From what she gathered, as far as witness accounts go, was that These weren’t your typical monsters. These were Cynolycus disguised as humans. Outside of the human form that imitated their original bodies, they would have the body of a stag, the neck of a lion, cloven hooves, and a bony ridged mouth. Their teeth were still ridge-like, but they had sharp cloven hands and wild hair that resembled a lion. What was worse than the way they’d once been able to parrot human voices was the way they were now able to act as humans might, mirroring their behavior to hide in plain sight.

“What are these things?” a hunter shouted as he crumpled to the dirt. “Nothing seems to be able to penetrate them. We tried everything, from silver to iron buck shots.”

“Fire,” Y/N called. “Burn the son of bitches down. These are Greek monsters we’re dealing with. The Cynolycus.”

“Are you sure?” another hunter asked. “Not sure how much more I’ve got in the tank.” She noticed a rivulet of blood trickling down from his ear, knowing the damage she couldn’t see was far worse.

“You’re forgetting my family is from Greece,” she huffed. “ So either trust me and live or don’t and die. Your choice,” she spat as she looked around for her flamethrower. “All else fails, and we run out of firepower. Decapitation wouldn’t hurt either.”

Raising her weapon, Y/N raised it high giving the monster's head a clean slice. She smiled as the hunters who did listen rallied around her, slicing and burning the monster began. A few started to run away and It wasn’t long before she found herself alone with one of them, her resolve to control Illiara faltering.

‘Let me out,’ Illiara hissed. ‘Let me deal with these monsters that continue to chase us.’

“No, you know that I can’t. We are trying to separate from one another, and you use your powers–”

‘I don’t care,’ Illiara growled as she pushed forward.

Y/N could feel her grip on her goddess half slipping. But it didn’t distract her from the task at hand. She noted one of the Cynolycus trying to sneak off into the forests and away from the hunters.

“I don’t think so,” she huffed, pushing Illiara down as best she could before giving chase.

As Y/N ran towards the escaping monster, she could feel Illiara push through. Her hair began to change to a light lavender–almost white–her eyes glowed a dark violet, and her skin prickled with power.

“Daughter of Hades and Persephone, you honor me with your presence,” the Cynolycus chuckled. “It is an honor to die by your hand and alert lord Zeus of your location.”

Illiara smirked at him evilly. “By all means, go ahead. I’m not afraid of him.”

The creature's face fell slightly before he regained his composure and charged. Illiara took a deep breath and dodged the attack, rolling away. Holding out her hand, she directed her power toward summoning a black-bladed sword. Energy radiating from the Goddess pulsated all around them as they battled, creating a tornado-like swirl in the air. Illiara’s blade clashed with the monster’s claws, causing sparks to fly. Bolts of electricity circulated the goddess, firing in all directions rather than the focused control she once had.

“So the legends are true,” the Cynolycus growled, “you have the power to rival Zeus. How is that possible?”

“Who cares?” Illiara spat. “Are you going to talk philosophy, or are you going to fight? All I wanted was to be left alone. To live my own life. I wanted to be done with the Gods,” she cried.

With a loud yell, she swung her blade haphazardly. Each blow sliced tiny, ineffectual rips in the monster’s skin.

“You swing with anger,” it chuckled. “You won’t win unless you truly mean to destroy me.”

‘Illiara, let me have control,’ Y/N demanded as she pushed through.

Illiara shook Y/N back and let out a feral scream, plunging the sword into the belly of the beast and letting a grin slip through the blood-slick on her face.

“Send my regards to my father, and tell him to send Zeus this message.”

Illiara held her sword high, swinging it down and decapitating the beast. Her chest heaved with every breath, but nothing could calm her anger. Illiara could feel it. Y/N was calm and gentle but fierce and strategic. But Illiara herself could sense she was angry and unhinged. Her rage could not be satisfied, and it was all-consuming.

Y/N pushed herself to the surface, forcing Illiara back into her cage.

“We gotta go,” Y/N hissed. “Who knows what can of worms you’ve just opened.”

“I knew it,” a voice called from behind her.

Y/N closed her eyes and tried to calm her erratically beating heart. She let out her breath, she slowly turned around, holding her hands up.

“Herman,” she said, offering him a smile. “I know what you think you saw, but–”

“But nothing,” he interrupted. “I knew there was something off about you. No one just ‘pops’ into hunting out of nowhere, and no one can pin down where you’re from. Convenient, don’t you think?”

There was something about the way Herman’s eyes drilled into her that had the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck standing and Illiara’s senses on high alert.

“Who are you?” she asked, her black-bladed sword reappearing in her hand. With the barrier weakened, Illiara easily regained control, her eyes glowing and her hair transforming.

“My dear Illiara,” Herman chuckled. “It has been a long time since I have encountered you. I believe the last time I saw you was before you ran from Deimos and your engagement ceremony.”

“Hermes,” the goddess hissed. “What message does he have for me now?”

“The time for your silly game of cat and mouse is ending,” Hermes recited. “It is time you come back and fulfill your duty under my rule as leader of the Gods. That is the message from Zeus.”

Illiara and Y/N both laughed at the message. Their split souls resonated as one, gazing into the eyes of the messenger God.

“You can give him this message,” they said. “We will never bow down to his command. If he wants us to return, he must retrieve us himself.”

Sam and Dean arrived at the forest location that they received from Herman. It took them a while to navigate through the trees, but the sound of conversations and cheers, their weapons reflexively at the ready. But from what they could see walking up, the hunters there had already handled the situation.

“Where’s Herman?” Dean asked someone nearby who appeared to be post-fight stretching a crick out of his neck.

“He went after the Ice Queen, who chased after the last freak that escaped. I tell you, that girl is a godsend.” He turned into his stretch, revealing a handful of others in the distance setting fire to what looked familiarly to the boys like a pile of corpses.

“Which direction?” Dean growled.

The guy pointed them toward the edge of the forest and walked toward the pyre favoring his left leg. Wordlessly, the brothers turned into the woods. After a while, Dean stopped and placed a finger to his lips. Sam followed his brother’s instructions and stilled his breathing to listen.

“I think I hear something,” Dean whispered, pointing to a clearing in the forest's center.

“Let’s check it out,” Sam said, following Dean.

“You know,” Hermes chuckled. “You should know not to shoot the messenger.”

“I don’t care,” the goddess said.

Raising her sword over her head, she was ready to strike when Hermes shimmered into his disguise. Starting back at her was the hunter Herman, a fearful look in his eyes.

“No, please,” he cried as it echoed around them.

A smirk appeared on his face as he winked at the goddess.

“I wonder what would happen if lover boy caught you like this,” he whispered for only the goddess to hear. “I mean, after all, we are nothing but monsters to them, right?”

Illiara turned to see Sam and Dean, guns drawn at the edge of the clearing.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Herman,” Dean called. “We’ll get you out.”

“Whoever you are,” Sam said, “let him go. He’s done nothing to you.”

Illiara took in a deep breath while Y/N stayed in the back of her mind. If Y/N took control from Illiara now, then the brothers would know enough to pursue her. But if Illiara killed Hermes in his disguise, they would be on the run not just from the Gods but from Sam and Dean. She was stuck.

“Stay out of this, Winchesters,” she growled. “This has nothing to do with you. Herman here isn’t who you think he is.”

“No way you can prove it,” Herman whispered before turning to the brothers. “This is Illiara. You gotta shoot her. She’s unhinged and will plunge the world into darkness if we don’t stop her.”

Sam and Dean’s eyes flickered between Illiara and Herman. She looked exactly like the painting that professor Anathasiou had shown them in so many ways; her violet eyes glowing with power and her wild hair flowing, but there was also something familiar about her. The longer Dean’s eyes laid on her, the harder the feeling was to shake.

“Dean,” Herman called, breaking the hunter out of his thoughts. “You know what you have to do, son. You know what she is. She’s a monster, Dean. I know deep down you can see that she needs to die.”

Dean’s nostrils flared. In the moment he took to process, the Winchesters missed Herman/Hermes plunging a poisoned dagger into the Goddess’ side. As they leapt to action, Illiara screamed, pain and rage mixing as she stabbed her sword into Herman/Hermes’s abdomen. It wouldn’t kill him, but the Winchesters couldn’t know, their eyes watching a fellow hunter fall as Illiara watched her chance at the messenger of the Gods slipping.

“You bitch,” Dean growled as he opened fire on Illiara.

Illiara raised her hands, stopping the bullets before her and letting them fall to the ground.

“You know nothing of what you are dealing with, mortal,” she huffed before moving at lightning speed before him.

Her nose practically touched his as she backed him up against the trunk of the nearest tree. Her violet eyes bored deep into Dean’s green ones and tilted her head from side to side, studying him. Her heart pounded in her chest as her soul vibrated with familiarity for the hunter.

She hummed softly before chuckling, “I don’t see what the big deal is with you.” Forcefully, she took hold of his jaw and turned his head from side to side. “What does she see in you? All I see is a tortured soul begging like a dog for another to belong to. You’re practically screaming for a soulmate, but too drowned in self-pity to find one.”

“And all I see is a monstrous bitch who killed my friend,” Dean spat.

Illiara smiled at his insult before wincing in pain. The poison from the dagger Hermes plunged into her was slowly entering her system, seeping deeper into her with every bite of Y/N’s heart. Illiara knew she was running out of time to do something about it, sensing it was filled with a pure darkness that only the Goddess Hecate could create.

“Well, this bitch,” she sneered, “has got to go. Hopefully, the next time we meet,” she paused and hissed in pain, “will be a bit more eventful. After all, you crossed into the world of the Gods, and now you’ll find yourself entrapped in the web they love to weave.”

“Next time we meet,” Dean gave her a cocky smile, “I’m going to have the juice to gank you. You and your whole roster.”

“Is that so?” Illiara laughed. “Then I guess I should take something from you before you end my miserable existence.”

Dean’s grin deepened. “Yeah? And what’s that? My soul’s been run through a few times already, have at it.”

“No,” Illiara whispered. “Something a bit more,” she paused and clicked her tongue against her teeth, “intimate.”

Before Dean could respond, he felt her lips on his in a searing kiss. Unable to pull back for the tight grip on his chin, Dean felt her hand rake through his hair, the nails grazing his skin. She used the moment of shock leaving Dean to deepen the kiss, leaning her whole body against his and slipping her tongue past his lips with a jolt of electricity that felt like it shot down his spine. It was–wrong, clearly, but something about it felt familiar in a way Dean couldn’t identify, and then it was over as soon as it had started as he came to his senses and found the strength to push her away.

Illiara’s cackle echoed around them as Dean clenched his jaw. His chest heaved with anger, glaring at the goddess before him.

“What? Too much tongue?” she taunted.

Sam found himself able to move. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but had no doubts the sensation of chains around him must have been Illiara’s doing. In the heightened focus of the moment, it didn’t escape him that Herman seemed to smirk as he lay still.

Shaking the impossibility out of his head, Sam grabbed his brother as the goddess disappeared.

“You okay?” he asked Dean.

Dean ran the back of his hand across his lips and spit at the ground. “Peachy.”

“Come on,” Sam sighed. “Let’s get back to the bunker, and you can give me the dirty details.”

Dean nodded as he glared at the spot the Goddess had been. His lips still tingled. It was hard enough being violated like that, but to not know why was already eating at him. Willing the possibility of any lasting damage away, he followed his brother back into the trees.

Y/N pushed past the pain and placed Illiara back into the crystal cage in her mind.

'I told you, ' Illiara said, the darkness from the poison already darkening the Goddess. 'One wrong point of view, one misdirection, and he thinks we are evil.'

“We did what was necessary but I can’t have you coming out again,” Y/N said, hissing as the wound healed.

Her eyes trailed along the mirror until they reached the wound inflicted by Hermes. To Y/N, it became a jagged scar. Illiara‌ could see it for what it was; a dark line with black veins spiraling outward.

‘Hecate knows her curses,’ she said, chuckling at their predicament. ‘But strangely enough, I feel absolutely fine.’

Y/N nodded absently as she drove towards a motel. There was no doubt in her mind that her outburst of power alerted Zeus to her location, and she didn’t have a lot of time to make a quick getaway.

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ghostlyswamp · 1 year

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Good omens 2 spoilers!!

The confession is a misunderstanding between Crowley and Aziraphale and I want to talk about it.

The show shows us multiple times how well Crowley and Aziraphale know each other but also how they don’t always understand what the other is doing/or saying. But with low stakes. Like when Crowley is like why do you have to take the car why not take the train you love taking the train. Crowley doesn’t get why Azi wants to take the car. Or when Azi is like why don’t you wait inside you like waiting inside. Crowley tells him he doesn’t want to wait inside because of Gabriel and says some stuff about Gabriel smiting him. But Crowley mainly hates Gabriel because of what he did to Azi last season but Azi doesn’t know this. The lack of information and them not directly saying what they are thinking leads to Azi misunderstanding Crowleys. Or the whole I feel like your exactly and my exactly mean different things scene. They didn’t out right say what they meant which leads to a misunderstanding that they almost immediately sort out. It’s become a pattern of miscommunication.

Throughout the show (especially this season) we see Azi struggle with shades of grey and the fact the Heaven is supposed to be good but they have done things that aren’t. He wants to believe in god and that god is good but it’s complicated. A Prime example is the whole Job thing. He questions heavens methods and does what he thinks is right in spite of Heaven and then immediately stresses about it. And The whole hell is the bad guys heaven is the good guys thing he says during the confession.

In this season Azi is grappling with the concept of shades of grey but this makes him uncomfortable. Hence the very light shades comment. He’s trying but I don’t think he’s fully grasped it yet. But what Metatron offers him is the ability to run Heaven. To Azi this means that he doesn’t have to grapple with heaven not always being good thing because he can make so that it is always good. (This is quite naïve of him). But he doesn’t take it at first because him and Crowley have become so close. Any place that doesn’t except Crowley can’t be good. But once Crowley is involved he takes the deal because it’s everything he could ever want.

Being apart of Heaven is a big part of his identity and he has a lot of complicated history with it. It’s hard to give it up and he doesn’t want to give it up completely. It’s why he excepts the offer. He gets to keep this part of his identity but now it’s a lot less complicated (in his eyes because he can make Heaven a truly good place), He doesn’t have to grapple with shades of gray as much or at all, he gets Crowley, and gets to do good again without wondering if it’s is truly good. And he wants to be good so bad. It’s why he gets to happy whenever someone tells him he’s doing good or doing something right. (Like when he calls Crowley to tell him about the clues at the pub and Crowley says he did good and Azi gets super happy).

So when Azi walks into to tell Crowley the good news he thinks Crowley won’t react badly because it would still be the two of them together, He has seen Crowley do good, he has seen how happy Crowley was a an angel when he built the nebula, and he thinks Crowley won’t be mad because he will get a say in what happens in heaven (he can put a note in the suggestion box). He misunderstands why Crowley would want nothing to do with Heaven. Azi wants to change Heaven with and for Crowley. But all Crowley hears is that he want to change Crowley from angle to demon and go back to this institution that has done both of them great harm.

Crowley then thinks/hopes that if he confesses to Azi that Azi will choose to be with him and realize that they don’t need Heaven or Hell. What he doesn’t get is how much Heaven and god is part of Azi’s identity and how important they are to him. It’s not easy for him to give it up and with the offer he just got why would he want to.

Azi gets hopeful after the confession and asks Crowley again to go with him to Heaven. He thinks that since Crowley feels the same that maybe he will choose to come with him back to heaven. He wants Crowley to say yes to him and not necessarily Heaven it’s self. It’s not so much Azi needing Crowley to be angle and more so Azi wanting Crowley to choose him. But Heaven, god, and angels are such a bit part of who Azi is. In that moment saying yes to Azi means saying yes to the Heaven they could build together. (I just want to say that I know Heaven is toxic and Azi needs to realize how naïve he being and how bad heaven is and he has to come to that realization full on his own. It’s not healthy dynamic he has with Heaven and on one can realize this for him). Azi is also very stubborn so after he made his mind up about excepting the offer he wasn’t going to change his mid easily. (Like how he wouldn’t change his mind about Jim).

Then Crowley says you can’t leave this book shop. Which is Crowley kind of being like look at what you have built here, what we have built here, but Azi doesn’t take it like that and tells Crowley nothing last forever. Crowley takes this as a rejection but what Azi means is that he’s willing to give up the book shop for the chance to build a Heaven with Crowley. Its why he’s so confused when Crowley makes to leave after he says this.

Then Azi opens up and tells Crowley he needs him and that he wants them to be together. Then Crowley, thinking he’s been rejected, tells Azi that he thinks he understands what Azi is offering him a lot better then Azi does. Which is kinda vague. Azi then takes this as a rejection and is now quite hurt.

Crowley kisses him but still refuses to go to Heaven with him (fair enough) and to Azi that’s still a rejection. A rejection of who Azi is and what he wants. Which if they had said what they were thinking they would know that neither were really being rejected and that they both want to be together. But it’s also good that Azi goes to Heaven because he has realize for himself how harmful Heaven is.

They already have waited 6,000 years they just have wait a little longer. Azi needs to face Heaven and then they need to talk for real this time.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #ineffable husbands

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cream-and-punishment · 1 year

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Good omens 2 spoilers:

Ok but those last 10 minutes of the show hurt so bad...

I think one of the reasons the final scenes hit so hard is because the "parting" was very unexpected giving what happened just a few minutes earlier.

Just a few moments before "disaster", we see Nina and Maggie talking with Crowley and inviting him to be more open and honest about his feelings (the same goes for Aziraphale too, even if he is not there). While he keeps saying that he and Aziraphale "talk all the time", Maggie points out an important truth: "but you DON'T really talk" and that's a truth that Crowley needs to hear; he realizes that they didn't actually talk about their feelings for each other and he decides in that moment that he is going to declare his love to Aziraphale.

This conversation gives us hope, we think they will finally open their hearts to each other and be together, but that's not what happens and that's why Neil Gaiman is a great writer.

Unfortunately, it makes perfect sense that all those years of indecision and missed opportunities to be honest with each other and address their feelings come back to haunt both Crowley and Aziraphale right in THAT moment.

This season made perfectly clear that they love each other and that all they want is to be together, but they want to do it in a different way. Aziraphale wants to create a new heaven, one that allows Crowley to be back and to be free to be his true self, but Crowley takes his invitation as a " I want to change you, because I don't like you enough the way you are right now".

According to Crowley, they already created "their heaven" on earth, they don't need anything else and I think that's why there is so much tenderness in the way Aziraphale says that "Oh Crowley" before the "nothing lasts forever" line; I think that Aziraphale finds the idea of living forever in their own little world very naive ; he is still an angel and he still wants to be an angel, especially now that he is a chance to change the way heaven works. That's the big difference between the two of them in my opinion: Crowley is ready to leave behind the whole heaven/hell stuff, while Aziraphale is not.

So here we circle back to the "You DON'T really talk" line: unfortunately that's true; in all those years, they didn't talk to each other in a completely honest way, not only about their feelings, but also about how they felt about their future and how they wanted to live. I mean, they both want the same thing, to be together, but they ended up misinterpreting the other's intentions, thinking that one was rejecting the other and vice versa, while their actions were truly just moved by love and by the desire to protect the other.

Despite everything they did to him, Aziraphale is still moved by blind fate and I think that's what infuriates Crowley the most; but that goodness, that capacity for forgiveness is a fundamental part of who Aziraphale really is, just as well as his "rage" and resentment towards heaven are part of Crowley (obviously his feelings are very understandable, since in this season we saw once again how cruel heaven can be to whoever rebels).

some thoughts about (a possible) season 3

I think it would be very intresting in season 3 to know more about Crowley's fall, so that we can understand why he rejects completely the idea of going back to heaven.

On the other end, I think that Aziraphale will finally come to terms with reality: he is going to realize that he can't really change the way heaven does things, that he is just another pawn in God's hands and he needs to make a choice and decide if it's worth leaving behind everything he loves (including a certain demon) for his unshakeable fate, just like Gabriel did.

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #good omens spoilers #neil gaiman #tv shows #it's been a while since I wrote something so long in English so sorry for any mistakes 🙈#they make me want to write 10 essays tho #their power is unmatched

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thesweetestclementine · 1 year

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They Should Have Killed the Kids

Superheaven this and coffee theory that. The part of GOs2 that made me angriest was the Job minisode. I’m seeing people say that this was the strongest of the three, and I am here to strongly disagree with them. The writers missed the point of the entire book, and they turned what could have been an incredible study on the human condition into, like, a Doctor Who episode with Bible Flavor™. Buckle up. This got very long.

Forewarned is forearmed: I’m coming at this from the perspective of a lapsed Calvinist Protestant. Come shout at me in my DMs if you have also been traumatized by conservative Christianity :D

Part 1: In the Beginning

The first order of business is to understand the text they are adapting. A Companion to Owls is the only minisode that’s pulling material directly from another source, so it’s easier to scrutinize by merit of there being something you can compare the adaptational differences to. For me, being able to go back and forth between the minisode and Job made the issues with Companion much easier to spot, whereas I had a harder time pinpointing exactly where the other two went wrong. Point being, I re-read Book of Job for the first time since high school, and I’m here to report back with my findings.

The Book of Job is a 42-chapter poetic cycle that covers the worst week of Job’s life. It is a beautiful reflection on the cruelty of existence and the capriciousness of God. There are several, several moving passages that get really existential and take a pretty interesting stance on God’s mercy that you don’t really see in the rest of the Bible. I’d recommend reading it - it’s not super long, and there are some passages in it that people reference constantly.

Here’s what happens in Job as Good Omens tells it: Job is the most blameless man on Earth. Because, or maybe in spite, of his righteousness, he’s absolutely loaded. God and Satan make a bet that Satan can/can’t cause Job to sin by dragging him by his hair through the desert (metaphorically. Maybe). Satan holds up his end of the bet. Job, sheep-less, camel-less, child-less, and covered in sores and ash, fails to forsake God. God talks to him and tells him that he knows jack about all, and that it is not his place to question the Lord. Job passes with flying colors. He gets his stuff back even better than before. The end.

The moral of this story is that God lets bad things happen even to the most righteous, and there’s not a whole lot you can do about it.

Oh, wait. What’s that? My analysis is incomplete? You’re telling me I’m missing an entire thirty-five chapters of this 42-chapter book?

Part 2: Where are Job’s friends???

If you’ve never had to sit through multiple, multiple sermons about Job, you might not be familiar with Job’s friends: Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. Job calls them ‘miserable comforters,’ and a lot of Christian sources give them a pretty bad rap, but they are genuinely Job’s friends and want the best for him. They hang out with him after he’s lost everything and try to get him to fess up to whatever he did wrong so that he can get God’s forgiveness. They leap to God’s defense, which you’d think for the time and place is the right thing to do. But in their desire to see Job restored to his previous position, they don’t hear Job’s protests that he has remained blameless. They argue with him about this, over and over. In fact, the argument Job has with his friends is most of the Book of Job. It’s the heart of Job. To cut his friends out of an adaptation is a fool’s errand, because it means you’ve misunderstood the point of Job.

When you add the friends back in, Job’s story then becomes a discussion (a literal discussion, because of the arguing) about how God’s will for the righteous includes hardship, and your loved ones, well-meaning as they might be, will be unable to truly grasp your suffering and cannot possibly interpret God’s will for you. Job was bang on the money when he said he hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet his friends talk over him in an attempt to help him. Being offered useless or even harmful help when you’re in serious pain is an incredibly relatable, human experience.

I don’t know why they cut the friends. Maybe it was too expensive to hire the three actors needed. Maybe the minisode was too short to flesh out a good friends plot. Maybe COVID restrictions fucked it up, I don’t know. Any way you slice it, Companion would have been a hell of a lot stronger had they taken time to actually include them, instead of making a stupid joke about shoemaking. If Good Omens is really a story about humanity, there is no more human experience than having your friends talk over you.

If you’re adapting Job, then, and you’re not going to talk about his friends, what is left in the story to focus on?

Part 3: Job’s Kids: Hotter, Blesseder, Faster, Stronger

So the writers of Companion decide to focus on the morality of God okaying the destruction of Job’s kids. This is such a weird decision. I understand why you’d want to adapt this; harming children should prompt a strong, visceral, horrified reaction from your audience, and it also asks some thorny questions about God’s divine will. It’s a great story for showcasing the callousness of God without having to do a lot of heavy lifting.

But the kids in the Book of Job aren’t even kids--they’re adults with their own households and land. While it is tragic that Job’s entire family dies, Satan is not going after helpless children, but instead markers of Job’s power and wealth. God probably would have told Satan to hold off on killing the kids if they were small, like She told him to hold off on attacking Job’s health initially (key word here is probably. God doesn’t have a good track record there. Hold that thought). This is a huge oversight on the writers’ part. Again, it makes me feel like they’ve missed the point of the book, almost substituting the original message for one they’ve created themselves.

If you wanted to retell a Bible story where you can just tear into the idea of God killing little kids to test someone’s righteousness, you have your pick. The story of Abraham and young Isaac is right there. Hell, the additional complexity of Abraham going along with it and not simply being taken along for the ride would have reflected the themes of Good Omens a lot better. There is no point in adapting Job for that reason.

Ooh, actually, adapting the story of Absalom would have been super cool. I’m getting off topic.

Job works best as a story showcasing the callousness of Man, rather than God. She is peripheral; She’s a side character; She only appears in the framing device and the divine smackdown. Her lack of concern serves as a mirror to the friends’s lack of concern: they are all trying to push their own agenda on Job, who is just trying to weather a cosmic pissing contest. It is not the focus of Job. The Book of Job does not care about the kids, and no adaptation worth its salt is going to care about the kids, either. It’s going to care about the friends.

Also, I couldn’t make this fact fit in cleanly, but the Bible goes out of its way to point out how hot Job’s new daughters are. Anyway.

Part 4: John Finnemore Giveth, and John Finnemore Taketh Away.

This is the part of the screed post where I veer into speculation and armchair screenwriting. If you’re locked in to an adaptation of Job and you want to focus on the kids, how do you make that more narratively satisfying?

You don’t resolve the main conflict by staging a goofy resurrection and returning everything to normal, for one.

When I say that Companion feels like Doctor Who, this is what I mean. A boiler-plate Doctor Who episode introduces a cool sci-fi concept & its complement ethical conflict and aims to resolve it in 45 minutes or fewer. Therefore, the concepts are interesting but not technical, and the conflicts are serious but not complicated. Despite its reputation, the resolution is usually hopeful and upbeat. The minisode has all the makings of a Doctor Who episode - it follows the same formula. Your concept - Job - is something a person who isn’t Biblepilled and Christocelled is probably vaguely familiar with, and, like, you can argue that killing small children for sport is not a conflict with a clear right and wrong, but you would be both incorrect and also a bad person.

To say that this makes me irrationally angry is to underestimate my rage. I realize I am not an average viewer, because I am Biblepilled and Christocelled against my will. BUT it makes me SO MAD that they treat Job like a black and white scifi adventure that they can neatly tie up in 25 minutes. At the end of the original story, Job’s original kids are gone. He may have gotten his health and wealth back, but there are ten people who were very dear to him that he will never see again. It ends in this weird, happy-ish gray space that the original Good Omens book also closes on - the conflict has just been kicked down the road, not fully resolved, and the story ends before we explore the consequences of that.

So, if I was the writer for this minisode, how would I suck the Doctor Who out of the episode?

I think the thing they should have done was have the kids survive that thunderstorm, and then have the Archangels destroy them before Aziraphale and Crowley could do anything about it.

Would it be tonally out of wack from the rest of the season? Absolutely. I still think they should have done it. Actually killing the kids gives Heaven teeth and makes the Apocalypse of last season seem like an actual threat. It would also force Aziraphale to have a different, more impactful crisis of faith than the one he had at the end of the minisode. Lying to your superiors is uncomfortable, but the thing that really rocks people’s faith in any system is seeing it fail unnecessarily and catastrophically.

I’m not expecting Paradise Lost, here. I just want something that hits at least half as hard as the original book. And saving the kids just doesn’t do it for me.

Part 5: Oh God, There’s More?

If you’ve read to this point, you are braver than any US Marine. I hope it made sense and that you are now as angry as I am about the Job minisode. I have issues with the other two minisodes (WHY WERE THERE LIGHTS ON DURING THE BLITZ?????) but they did not inspire a 2,000 word Tumblr post that was mostly written in a fugue state between the hours of 3 and 6 a.m. on a work night. A Companion to Owls, to me, missed the main points of both the Book of Job and the original Good Omens.

Because what Good Omens is is a story about knowing humanity in all its multifaceted ugliness and choosing it anyway because the good and strange bits are good and strange enough to outweigh that ugliness. The Book of Job highlights a little part of the beauty and horror of humanity in a deeply relatable way, and instead of working with the themes of both works, Companion works against them.

Also...Job never had goats. He had sheep, camels, donkeys, oxen, and children, but not goats. Details, motherfuckers.

#good omens #good omens 2 #bible #book of job #i did not have an exorcism to suffer through bad Bible fanfic like this #bonneannee

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tamlinrose · 1 year

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Good Omen 2 Spoilers

Needless to say I’m devastated, obviously. The season was amazing, the writing, the acting, everything, and I was SO sure it was going to end with a drunken breakfast at the Ritz like Crowley. I was SO SURE they were going to kiss and happy music would swell and it was going to be all fine and dandy.

And of course I’m heartbroken for how It turned out, of COURSE I’m devastated that Aziraphale fundamentally missed the point that Crowley doesn’t want to be an Angel again, he doesn’t want to be a demon, he wants to be AZIRAPHALE’S.

Of course I’m so fucking sad that Crowley finally was vulnerable, and it came at just the wrong moment, the wrong time, the wrong wording to convince Aziraphale heaven can’t be fixed, because the thing is, Aziraphale is still brainwashed by the idea of Good. He is SO used to heaven being unkind that the second they throw him a bone he jumps, thinks “this is a chance for things to be different!” And is completely blinded by his own need to feel like a part of something bigger that he can’t see the truth, that they are manipulative and always will be, that if he didn’t have respect before he certainly won’t now, and most importantly That CROWLEY has never treated him like that, not once.

On the other hand, for all the people who are devastated and saying that they won’t rewatch, that they’re burning the bridge of their interest in good omens, that this is queerbait, it’s NOT. That’s your prerogative to stop watching of course, but the point is this is an UNFINISHED TALE. 6 episodes couldn’t cover the story, the overarching story, and this season didn’t have what would have been essential to Crowley and Aziraphale truly ending up together.

Crowley said it himself, Aziraphale WASNT THERE when they told him to shut up and die. He doesn’t believe heaven is as bad as it is because he hasn’t witnessed the true coldness up there in so long, and he’s NORMALIZED to the neglect and abuse he faces up there in a way many abused people are. He thinks that one bone is enough, that he can fix them, and he always would have felt that, which is why He NEEDS a personal arc where he realizes this on his own and stands up for himself AGAINST HEAVEN. THIS is his opportunity to do that. THAT is why the writers made him go back, he needs to know for himself before he can accept it.

THATS why Neil Gaiman is saying on his blog that he needs a season 3 to complete the arc. The writing timing of this falling out is intentional to keep the show alive to get to that point. If this tragic moment was left for Season 3 Ep 1 and they dined at the ritz like normal for Season 2 finale, there wouldn’t be any development we need for Aziraphale, and more importantly, if would feel like there was no need for a season 3. This tension is the writing worlds way of PRESERVING this show, and it’s frustrating yes, but that’s how things get renewed, that’s how Aziraphale gets the arc he needs, that’s how we get happy endgame Aziracrow, that’s how you rev up anticipation for the Second Coming, THATS how you write a story.

Also, it’s not queerbait. It never has been. They’ve always been in love, not even TALKING about the kiss here but about their complete trust in each other, their inside jokes, the DANCE SCENE, Crowley comforting Aziraphale after he lied to heaven. The symbolism between them and Maggie and Nina. (Nina also being in an abusive relationship like Aziraphale with heaven and needing TIME TO PROCESS before getting with Maggie, who will wait for her is totally mirroring the arc Aziraphale needs to have btw. Abused people don’t often just fall into healthy new relationships while still being entangled in their old ones mentally). My point is that if your argument for hating the ending is this was pulling the rug out from under queer fan base, think about all the creators who shoe in a gay relationship, kiss at the last second on the shows last episode, think about all the shows where subtext had to be enough, or where showrunners weren’t brave or allowed enough to make a relationship canon until the last second. This is the MIDDLE of the show (if everything goes well with Amazon which is out of Neil’s control). This has been explicit from the creators mouth and frankly the show itself for ages, even without a kiss. This is not queerbait, and sometimes relationships need space to be able to come back together in a truly fulfilled way, even queer ones.

Anyway that’s my rant, I have more, per usual, but this post is already long

#good omens season 3 #good omens season 2 #good omens season 1 #good omens spoilers #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #neil gaiman

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kerflooey · 1 year

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i hadn't rewatched good omens season one since about a week before season two aired and i'm bursting with thoughts i'll try to phrase as eloquently as possible, but my main statement is (and has been since the season dropped) that aziraphale's decision to go back to heaven makes nothing but sense.

i'll start by saying that for the most part (except for some moments in the flashbacks and the very final scene at the ritz) the difference in aziraphale's behavior towards crowley is striking to me . not to say that the way he feels is different, he is just very determined to ignore it and play the part he's meant to play.

this is because heaven is his priority, it's his purpose. he might have his doubts about how things are done (not why!) and he might not necessarily enjoy the company of other angels, but he truly believes in God. he truly believes that any decision he disagrees with is justifiable because well, they don't know humans like he does. if he just explains it should be fine! or, he has leeway to make it fine (see: job). if he didn't, there would've been consequences already.

he truly believes in doing good (and he can be extremely arrogant about it too, because he clings to his 'i'm an angel therefore nothing i do could possibly be wrong' philosophy like a lifeline. ironic considering who put it in his head in the first place), and that to keep doing good is the most important thing. why wouldn't he? it's his entire reason for existing.

he's allowed himself to expand and grow beyond that, but without ever decentering it. just look at what he loves: art (and a very specific kind of art, mind you. i don't really see him enjoying any sort of overcritical or cynical pieces), food, storytelling ... all things that have been historically used as a way to perpetuate faith and repurpose, justify, glorify even any suffering. martyrdom is pretty!

so when armageddon comes around he is at an impasse. it's the moment to choose between heaven and himself (and crowley). and in so very typical aziraphale fashion he chooses to go with both - as far as he can. when it truly comes down to it, he chooses heaven. and the choice doesn't happen in the bandstand - it happens the moment he finds the nice and accurate prophecies and decides to hide it from crowley, look into it alone and report to heaven about it first. (my god he really did give so many signs).

once heaven doesn't respond the way he expects he decides it's time to try his leeway and go to crowley, but when crowley doesn't do exactly what he wants either and suggests to do nothing instead of good aziraphale chooses to turn to heaven instead. again.

he loves crowley, he really does, but from where i see it he also mistakenly thinks crowley has a lot more freedom of choice than he actually does. he can't not be good and he would never want to be bad, but crowley (in azi's eyes) chooses to be good many times. so every time they've had this argument he thinks why won't you choose to be good and do the right thing!

it's the bandstand, it's the arrival and it's the decision to go back to heaven. for him it's the right thing to do. not only has he struggled tremendously being entirely disconnected from heaven (he loves knowledge and he loves God, of course he misses reporting to heaven and feeling like the decisions - to do good - he makes have purpose and recognition) but he doesn't want gabriel to struggle with it either. he doesn't know what happened to gabriel and never does find out why it happened.

martyrdom is pretty, so it only makes sense that he would choose to leave what he's built - including this new sense of freedom and exploration of the situationship with crowley - behind for the opportunity to do Good. the opportunity to have All The Leeway, and make the decisions, and he will know best. it makes perfect sense! and no, he wouldn't want to do it without crowley, he loves crowley, he knows crowley pushes him to be better by forcing him to see and do things he'd rather ignore, but to him, crowley is the one choosing not to do good with him.

and everyone hates the line but it makes sense that he would say 'you're the bad guys!' in that moment because in his eyes crowley is actively choosing to be bitter and selfish instead of selfless and good. crowley who taught him the right thing isn't always the comfortable thing. because can he not see how good he'd be, they'd be for heaven? with more plans afoot how could he possibly not want to get involved and make sure everything is Good? he feels just as abandoned. the kiss destroys him because it reinforces his impression that crowley wants them to be selfish, he says 'i forgive you', i forgive you for making me want this and want it more desperately than i want the greater good, which is my purpose and my duty. and that last look they exchange is a plea from both sides.

#i don't even know what to tag this i'm just thinking rumminating marinating my thoughts #anyway #some of this also comes from my general annoyance at the fandom's (not anyone here ofc ily all i mean personals and twt)#refusal to see azi as his own person !!!#not just the object of crowley's affections who must live to be cute and perfect and make crowley happy #which is Not who he is At All #idk i have too much time in my hands besties

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dragonmasterkaylz · 1 year

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Let’s Talk about Metatron!!!

Well… um—

“Why are you talking about me behind my back?!”

…

…..

No!!! I know I’m talking about YOU!!! Deanmon, I choose you!!!

Anyway… I’m talking about Metatron from Good Omens. Now, if watching Supernatural has taught me ANYTHING… it’s that Angels are just as bad as Demons! They love meddling, creating wars, need I go on?! And in Good Omens, I don’t see much of a difference, especially in season two. Granted, Gabriel doesn’t have his memories so he’s just a shell of the Angel he used to be. Aziraphale’s job is to make sure that the human race is okay and that nothing bad is happening. The same is said for Crowley, but his job is to meddle in human affairs and to make them succumb to their own temptations. … Right…?

“Pretty much sweetheart”.

NO!!! NOT YOU— but you can stay. I like you~!

ANYWAY… the sudden appearance of Metatron in the sixth episode of season two made me feel very uneasy. Now, let’s just move onto Supernatural for a second. Metatron is the Scribe of God and he has a very important role— sorry… had a very important role. Eventually, he wants to control Heaven since Chuck isn’t around and causes the Angels to Fall, killing some of them in the process. He strips poor Castiel of his grace, turning him into a regular human being. In a desperate attempt to save his brothers life, Dean asks one of these Angels to take over Sam and heal him from this inside. This Angel is called Ezekiel… but then later turns out to be Gadreel, an Angel that follows Metatron. When Castiel comes back to the Bunker, after being found by Dean, he is immediately told to leave as his presence alone is making Gadreel very paranoid. And so, the two are separated, yet again! Later down the line, Metatron kills Dean, which turns him into a Demon because of the Mark of Cain. He tells Castiel this and the poor Angel is left… heartbroken, even though Metatron is no longer in charge of Heaven and Castiel is.

Now, to the sudden appearance of Metatron in Good Omens. He seems like a good guy and he probably just wanted to give Aziraphale the offer of an Angels Eternal Life! We don’t know his true motives yet, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. But when our beloved Angel asked him what he was tasked with, his face dropped. The ‘Second Coming’ is basically when Jesus Christ returns to Earth. And from how Aziraphale acted, it’s either not a good thing or it’s just a very difficult task for him to carry out. Maybe he thinks there’s just too much weight on him and that’s why he looked very uncomfortable as soon as Metatron told him what it was. However, something seems very calculating about this new Metatron….

He told Aziraphale that he could ask Crowley to join him and that he has the power to turn him back into an Angel. He asked Aziraphale to do this, instead of asking the Demon himself, which he could’ve done! But he didn’t. Which brings to me to think that he could’ve known that Crowley wouldn’t have agreed to it… because when Aziraphale told him the news, Metatron did seem to know that Crowley was more of a lone wolf. Did he purposely make Aziraphale ask him so the two would argue and part ways on a bad note? Did he want Aziraphale and Crowley to part ways so Heaven and Hell would officially have no connection to one another? Because with Gabriel and Beelzebub gone, they only had one couple tying them together. Crowley and Aziraphale. Hell was very much convinced that Crowley was only using him to get information out of him, that’s why I’m suggesting this. Did he want to sever that forever, so that a war between the two factions could happen? Because if the two are no longer partners and with Crowley on his own, no one can object. So here’s my question:

I think the only way we’ll know the answer to this question is by waiting for season three to come out, and watching it. Personally, I cannot live with that ending!!! It’s almost as bad as when Castiel told Dean that he loved him and then was taken by the Empty!!!

“Kayleigh… please stop reminding me…!”

DEAN!!! I’M SORRY FOR BRINGING IT UP AGAIN!!!

Why am I bringing Supernatural into this, you ask? Well, because I can! Also, because my silliness knows absolutely no bounds. Hehe~! 😋

You can agree with me or disagree with me. But I haven’t trusted a single Angel in Good Omens, apart from our hot chocolate loving Aziraphale. Please let me know if I was wrong on any of the points I’ve made by the way and if I am, I’m so sorry.

End of Kayleigh’s Rant

#good omens #supernatural #metatron #good omens metatron

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dryingpanzer · 4 months

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(CW: Minor Nudity, also spoilers for different media)

Alright baby! Here’s the TL;DR for the media!

Les Miserables: 10/10

Wicked: 9/10

“In Case I Make It”: 8/10

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND: 7/10

Delicious in Dungeon: 10/10

Brooklyn 99: 9/10

Now that that’s done, let’s go more into detail!

Les Miserables - Oh, this musical hurts. The indomitable human spirit truly passes on in times of turmoil and misery. Amazing music, amazing set designs, and overall such a moving show. Going into it, I thought for some reason Jean Valjean would be this idol for which people rally behind, but instead he’s just some selfless dude that joins the revolution at the barricade and even saves Marius, bringing him home. This musical hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt. 10/10

Wicked - Probably the pinnacle of media where it twists the roles to make the antagonist the main character. All of the meta, referential moments that callback to the Wizard are very cute and funny and also helps to connect the two different stories together. The costume design was also amazing and is very befitting of the strange world of Oz. The music was very compelling and catchy. The set designs were great as well, shoutout to the one dude up in the rafters puppeteering the giant dragon. Elphaba was a very compelling protagonist that shines light on the “Wicked Witch of the West” and it was cute seeing an actual friendship form between her and Glinda. Fiyero also had an amazing ass. 9/10, makes me appreciate Twisted more and what they went for.

“In Case I Make It” - Having listened to his previous albums “Everything is a Lot,” “SEFL-iSH,” and “The Normal Album,” the style in this album took me by surprise, but makes more sense as he didn’t have his band members from the Tapeworms this time around (iirc he still used Tapeworms for Normal Album, the album just isn’t listed as a Will Wood & the Tapeworms album). It seems this album goes through more of his mental illnesses and self-conflict, will definitely need to listen to it again more in depth to understand it more. 8/10, fave song is Vampire Reference in a Minor Key, Big Fat Bitchie’s Blueberry Pie (don’t make me type out the full thing please it’s almost as bad as the Song with Five Names) is funne.

“THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND” - Another album where the style was vastly different than what I came to know of Bad Omens. It could also be I was use to their heavy shit with self-titled and Finding God Before God Finds Me, but this seemed to have more clean vocals and electronic parts. Not a bad album though, I still enjoyed listening to it! Then of course ARTIFICIAL SUICIDE came in and just basically knocked me unconscious with its raw energy and sound. 7/10, might have to be another album I listen through again to appreciate more!

Brooklyn 99 - I finally decided to check out this series after hearing and seeing so much about it and also since I was waiting for Delicious in Dungeon episodes to drop. Absolutely hilarious show that I feel does the cutaway gags much better than Family Guy. All the characters are enjoyable in their own ways with my faves being Sgt. Terry and Capt. Holt (rest in peace Andre Braugher). 9/10, fun show!

Delicious in Dungeon - You mean to tell me there’s a show that is a fantasy party adventure that is comedic, heartfelt, AND has good food? Me ass show! From the beginning it felt like the show was already subverting expectations and tropes, from Laois being human fighter but having depth with his extensive monster knowledge, to Chilchuck being the smol-looking boi that (pseudo-head canon) enforces his union-mandated smoke breaks. I am super invested in this anime and is probably one of my fave ever (Lupin III still tops my fave anime). 10/10, I really need to make bread.

#drying panzer media log

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citrinesparkles · 3 years

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cat.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!

"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"

"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."

"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"

he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.

"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.

probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.

the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.

she couldn't have been older than six.

"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"

he was ignored. "are you superman?"

the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."

she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"

jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.

talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."

"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."

he nodded. "also helpful."

"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.

"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"

"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."

"they're kinda cool, huh?"

"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.

"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."

"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."

...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."

"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."

"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."

"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."

"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"

he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.

"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.

"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."

jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"

"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."

"might just be malnourished," he muttered.

"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."

there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.

on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"

"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."

okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.

"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.

"what do you think?"

"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."

jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."

"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"

okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."

"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."

jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"

he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."

"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"

"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."

"is jazz your sister?"

"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."

"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."

jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"

"you call it cat?"

jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"

"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."

jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"

"red hood."

"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."

jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."

"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"

"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."

if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...

this was not worth fighting.

"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.

it did look a little sick, actually.

it was gray, and thin, and-

and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.

"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.

"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"

jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.

...shit.

just- shit.

he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"

#citrine writes #i promise i have a plan #jason todd #dc #imagines #dc imagine #dc imagines #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #sigh.

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familyagrestefanblog · 4 years

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Analysis of the Family Agreste Portrait

Quarantine strikes again and since the Agreste family portrait has fascinated me for a loooong while now I decided to put my thoughts into words and write another essay x3

The amount of informations we get out if it is amazing and its not only highlighting the absolute TRAGEDY it is that this family is about to face such a horrible fall out, it also hints at the former family dynamic before everything went to hell.

So make yourself comfortable and get something to drink, because we will be here for a while.

Here we go: My analysis of this beauty of a fictional portrait

Let's start with the most obvious one: Hawkmoth.

Its commen knowledge by now that the background makes it seem like Hawkmoth is standing behind the Agreste family like a bad omen waiting for fate to take its course and cause their doom. The portrait is brilliantly designed so the illusion is created that Gabriels body (here in a blue suit closer to Hawkmoths normals dark purple one) overlaps with Hawkmoths and a darker line is connecting the two faces as well, which rest on the same height right beside each other. The very same line grows bigger as it goes further behind Emilie - coloring her entire background - showing us that EMILIE is all Gabriel sees when he becomes Hawkmoth. But notice that Adrien on the other hand can hardly be concidered part of Gabriels “sight” at all.

Its forshadowing 101 and damn beautiful if I may say so. But this isnt what I want to focus on in this post.

I want to elaborate on two other key factors that tell us about the former dynamic of the Agrestes instead and what they tell us about the present and future.

The heart:

This is hitting me on another level because look at the heart these three form with Adrien right in the middle! He was so LOVED. This family may have never been anywhere close to ideal but still, there was LOVE and now he's gonna loose it all.

Adrien already lost his mother which led to his father getting even more distant and cold and now his father is becoming increasingly more abusive as he falls deeper and deeper into villainy. Gabriel was never a good father, the show has already made this clear with episodes like "the bubbler", “the collector” or "Gigantitan" for example but gosh there was hope for their little family! The end scene in "Jackady" portrayed it perfectly and I wrote a whole other post just covering the sigificants of Adriens and Gabriels hug in that episode. Check it out here if you want, it goes hand in hand with this one.

Miraculous is all about love and the completely different ways it can affect us, our behavior and actions. Because love isnt just wonderful, pure and empowering, it also can be twisted, destructive and cause the darkst nightmares. And with this family the writers know how to portray the complex love in an abusive houshold thats destined to go up in flames and they also know how to hint at their troubled past with the family portrait.

But this heart visual tells us even more in connection with the positions of their hands. And with these two key factors, lets start with Gabriel:

His hands convey it so strongly. He loves/d Emilie and Adrien so much and no doubt this love for them was certainly the reason why he started his quest as Hawkmoth. But he is now losing himself more and more in the pleasure of his villainy to the point where he forgets why he's doing it in the first place and becomes a complete monster (of a father). But this turn and spiraling into villainy didn't came out of nowhere - this root already had to be in him to grow like that. And this is also something the portrait indeed hints at as well.

Because Gabriel is the only one of the three who:

1. We see so completely open and without hesitation reach out and hold BOTH his family members.

2. Is visually “cut off” from them as well.

But this doesn't mean he was excluded and the only one who truly cared and loved, it just shows that things were more... complicated...as usual.

This is best explained with Adriens hand placements:

One hand is holding his mothers but the other one is visibly not reaching out for his father. But as we all know, that's not because Adrien doesn't love him. In season 1-3 it is made more than clear that Adrien does not hate his father - he loves him alot and tries to be there for him and be patient because he knows that the loss of his mother brought his father terribly down.

Sure, Adrien gets frustrated and angry with him, literally how could he not?? But Adrien tries his best to reach out to Gabriel so they can bond and come out of this tragedy stronger.

But this loving willingness to forgive his father for the chance of growing a father-son bond with him doesn't change the fact that these two didn't had a bond prior to this. And let's be honest here, does anybody actually think this distance between them was caused by Adrien? I don't think so.

So notice how Adriens hand - not reaching out for his fathers - is the only one in the portrait NOT inside or forming the heart.

When the connection of the hands between the family members symbolise their connection to another, then Adrien keeping the hand for his father away from the display of love is VERY telling. It tells us very directly what this distance did to Adriens side of the relationship. Despite Gabriels hand being right there, Adrien does not meet the gesture. And I cannot believe that he did it out of resentment, nothing in the show indicated such strong negative emotions from past Adrien.

It's much more likely that Adrien not reaching for his fathers hand is meant to show us that Adrien felt that he either CAN'T return the gesture because he fears that it'll end in an unpleasant reaction from Gabriel - that it isn't Adriens "place" to reach out to his busy and distant father like that, like it's demanding something - or Adrien simply didn't took Gabriel laying his hand on his shoulder, in the context of posing for a portrait, as a gesture of love and affection.

The way I interpret the portrait is that prior to Emilies dissappearence Adrien did not exactly try to reach out to his father the same way he did from s1-s3, which, I mean, of course wasn't the case. Not only is it NOT the 13 years olds (or younger) job to form an emotional connection to their absent parent - when that’s the PARENTS job - it also wouldn't be necessarily "needed" for Adrien to do so.

Because Emilie at this point was still in the picture so and she was the complete opposite. She was a (or maybe the ONLY) safe, reliable and loving constant of parental attention, affection and care in his life and because of these two HARSH contrasts Adrien learned from very early on to focus mostly completely on her in that regard while kinda blocking his father out.

That most likely wasn't even an active choice whatsoever - Gabriel proofed to be an unreliable resource so Adrien learned to subconciously treat him that way out of self protection. That doesn't mean he had any kind of dislike or malice against his father it just means that he wasn't able or allowed to connect with Gabriel the way he needed. Several episodes show that Gabriel deadass only parented like 15 minutes tops in his life with one of the worst offenders kinda being “Gigantitan” ngl.

So yeah, when I see that the portrait wants to tell me that prior to Emilies loss, Adrien - a 12-13 year old at most - is THIS used to rely solely on the strong bond he has with his mother and not even really reaching out for his fathers love, then I can't help but interpret it in the way that... Well... Gabriel was so distant and emotionally unreliable to Adrien for all his life, that Gabriel simply... wasn't needed by his son. Not at that point of time at least.

And while this may seem weird, because obviously Adrien only now starts to stop craving for his fathers affection and approval (which is btw a horrible, HORRIBLE thing and not something good. A half orphan losing the last remaining hope he had left of having the chance to finally get to form a bond with the only other parent he has left, just to be crushed by disappointment and abandonment all over again until he let's go, is REALLY NOT as much of a good thing people will make it out to be. This is... plain awful) it's actually quite logical.

Adriens hand outside the heart doesn't mean that his father meant nothing to him and therefore refuses to meet and accept his affection (that's literally the complete opposite of what the show shows us), it means that Adriens and Gabriels father-son relationship suffers from a fatal emotional disconnection caused by miscommunication/ a lack of communication.

And this was caused by Gabriel. How? Let me elaborate on that by going a bit far afield (cuz lbh we all have time for this. I’m writing this in quarantine and youre reading this is quarantine, so lets gooooooooooooo).

In "The bubbler" Adrien says that his father "always forgot his birthday", but I cannot agree with this in true honesty. Gabriel is controlling his sons entire life, calls him "the epitome of perfection" and temporarily truly gave up being Hawkmoth for him, he definitely never forgot Adriens birthday.

"The bubbler" even SHOWS us that Adriens perspective of the situation is actually not the truth:

This is Adriens first birthday after Emilies dissappearence and it's incredibly telling how Gabriel handles the planning.

What this entire little sequence tells me is that Gabriel is completely and UTTERLY used to NOT be the one to take care of anything related to Adriens birthday. So Emilie was always the one who did it but somehow - now without her - Gabriel apparently still hasn't even considered changing anything about that nasty non-involvement and just expected Natalie to pick everything up where Emilie left it.

Because let's be real here, knowing Natalie she would NOT have forgotten to get a present if Gabriel truly had told her to. Natalie is never presented to do mistakes like that but Gabriel on the other hand IS definitely presented to us claiming things about himself as ultimate, blameless and true when they simply do not reflect reality. A great example: Gorizilla

You didn’t even speared a minutes of your time for Adrien and he DID try to! Asshat… It's a problem guys. The lack of self awareness Gabriel displays in moments like this is legitimately concerning when you think about how deeply this man is falling right now.

But back to the topic:

Because even if Gabriel didn't even consider doing anything himself for Adriens birthday - not even taking the time to SEE his son (who just recently lost his mother, come on Gabe, really?) - one thing one cannot hold against him: he sure as hell remembered Adriens birthday like any decent parent would and it wasnt portrayed as a this-year-for-the-first-time thing.

And yet Adriens statement still makes complete sense. Because a big, BIG problem with Gabriel is just how much he takes things for granted. He EXPECTS things to be universally known and to never be doubted, just because that's how HE sees them. I will write 10 essays if it's needed to make people understand that Gabriel DOES truly love Adrien, it's just that Gabriel HIMSELF is such a rotten, twisted and toxic person that he cannot see how much his (oppressing) behavior and the way he (doesn't) express his love hurts Adrien and that HE is the one at fault. (for more, once again, read this)

Gabriel LOVES Adrien but he takes the love he feels as such a matter-of-fact that he just completely... forgets to show it.

And when we take Adriens words and look at the Family portrait it unfortunately seems that...

…. Gabriel ALWAYS forgot to show it.

Adriens hand - that should at least be reaching out to his father - is outside of the heart in accepting certainty. Because that's what Gabriels non-presence was for Adrien while growing up: an unreliable and unreachable certainty he had to accept early on as safer to not try to emotionally depend on too much or else he will get hurt.

So yeah, Adrien is the one in the portrait who is very openly not reaching out but only because Gabriel never gave him the needed affection and stability to be able to create that bond.

But let me correct what I said a little earlier: Adrien ALWAYS needed his father. Every kid, especially one in a bad situation like Adrien, does need their parents/friends etc as support system to become independent and confident in a healthy way. And if they don’t have that they WILL crave and look for it!

What Adrien has been doing up to now IS normal for a teenager - humans NEED affection, belonging and safety. What ISNT/SHOULDN’T be normal is Adriens disconnection towards his father in the portrait and just how much Gabriel fails to take care and BE THERE for his son in BOTH TIMES!

Collector:

Bother Christmas:

One thing I like about the show is that it portrays their young main cast with one very important truth: The psyche of a child/teenager of their age will react and adapt so it SURVIVES, even if it results in unfortunate consequences in other relationships and places. Thats the psyches main concern and it'll try to cope with the limited experience and development it has in whatever way necessary to get itself to the next day. A coping mechanism is not there to make you a better person, it ensures your SURVIVAL, everything else is a secondary concern.

So seeing pre-show Adrien not react to Gabriels touch and even feel completely unloved and disconnected from him is no surprise to me. Kids are incredibly observant. They may lack the needed experience and knowledge to truly understand that they deserve better and to stand up for themselves but they are masters in picking up red flags in people and can put this danger into perspective while comparing the different danger levels of their options of people and places to adjust their behavior.

Feast:

Stormy Weather 2:

So the broken connection between father and son we see in the portrait (that Gabriel doesn't even notice but Adrien fully internalized) isn’t there because Adrien “didnt needed” or wanted his father, its because Adrien NEEDED Gabriel so much in his isolated upbringing but Gabriel didn’t LET him need him - so Adrien had to adjust to that accordingly. Big, huge, ENORMOUS difference.

Honestly the most miraculous thing about Miraculous is that Adrien was able to bring up the strength to stay positive and friendly and to forgive Gabriel in hope for a better future. That boys situation is 7 kinds of depressing and traumatizing...

It's just flabbergasting to me how well this portrait shows how basically non-existent their relationship was at that point. And it's horrible to know that this estranged and unformed bond is all Adrien had left after Emilie dissappeared, just alot worse because after Emilie incident Adrien states that his father changed alot for the worse as well.

So to think that all Adrien had left wasn't even this former basically non-existent relationship with his aloof father - who would only barely show his true affection for his son because he's either not around enough to do so or he thinks it "unnecessary to proof his affection" for/to Adrien because he already thinks it so obvious and undoubtable.

Well he thought wrong. And GOSH, it breaks my heart!

So now comparing the "Gabriel" hand from Adrien with the one representing his connections with his mother conveys a pretty harsh contrast.

Because last but not least, let's take a look at Emilies hand placements:

But here is now an interesting difference to Adrien. Whereas we openly see that Adriens side of the Adrien-Gabriel relationship is completely disconnected from the heart/love - showcasing just how badly Adrien has always been neglected by his father - we don't see Emilies hand in her Emilie-Gabriel relationship AT ALL.

Once again just like with Adrien, this doesn't mean she didn't love her husband and that Gabriel was used and fooled by the woman he so utterly adored. It just means that from Emilies point of view things were a bit more complicated. What exactly this is, the portrait is keeping secret from us. We have no way of knowing if and how Emilie is returning her husbands gesture. All we can say is that if she does she is definitely not doing it in such an open and unconflicted way as she does with Adrien.

But since when has anything with this family been this easy?

One thing the portrait makes very clear, Adrien and Emilie had a strong and good bond. Definitely the healthiest because the Adrien-Emilie connection is the only one depicted without any kind of disruption from both sides. Both mother and son are reaching out for the other ones hand creating a whole half of the heart, showcasing their affection for another openly and without any of the implied doubts the other connections display. And honestly? Comparing all the hand placements, the one connecting Adrien and Emilie just comes across as strikingly pure and true (which makes it even worse that it was HER Adrien lost…)

As I said it's a HARSH contrast to the one Adrien shears with Gabriel. This contrast is highlighted even further by the way these three face on another.

Emilie and Adrien are positioned facing another and so are Emilie and Gabriel. Telling us that Emilie was "face-to-face" aka involved with both her husband and son. It is Adrien and Gabriel were this looks wildly different. These two have no way of seeing each other in the eyes the way they stand now/then, further displaying their deeply rooted disconnection. It's portrays perfectly how important Emilie was in this family dynamic, because even though Adrien and Gabriel bearly had a connection at all they at least had Emilie as a link between them, keeping the family together. But then they lost her and where this left both father and son off we know oh too well...

So to collect all the informations we get out if this portrait:

-Adriens and Emilies relationship was the strongest and purest. Both of their hands connect and reach out for another in the heart, showcasing that they had a loving and positive bond.

-Adriens and Gabriels relationship is heavily scarred by a deeply rooted disconnection leaving Adrien feeling unloved and unwanted by his father to the point where Adriens side of their dynamic is outside the heart altogether. Gabriel may love and adore his son just like he loves his wife and never thought he displayed his love for him in a lacking way, but fact is: this love never reached Adrien the way it should have and Adrien is the one in their dynamic who got severely hurt and damaged by it.

-Gabriel was the only one completely unconflicted and happily at peace with the former Family situation. He's reaching out to both his family members with open love and affection in blissful oblivion that neither his wife nor son could return them the same way (to different degrees for different reasons). Gabriel was the ONLY ONE in the Agreste family who didn't saw problems in their lives and thought them all happy, hence why he's so obsessed with changing the past and bringing THIS state of their family back. He was happy and he had everything he needed and loved right with him, of course he wants THIS back. He's not aware that Emilie and ESPECIALLY Adrien did not feel the same about their former situation and that bringing all of them back to this is not the perfect happy ending for their entire family as he thinks.

-Emilie may not have been as unconflicted with Gabriel as he was with her but she is NOT feeling the same disconnection her son feels and isn't depicted with negative feelings towards Gabriel. Her side in the Emilie-Gabriel relationship is neither shown outright positive as with her son or outright bad as Adrien with Gabriel. Her side of their bond is depicted through her unseen hand placement in the unknown area in between.

-Despite their not so unconflicted feelings towards Gabriel - and Gabriel himself being aloof - neither Emilie nor Adrien are actively trying to cut Gabriel out. They aren't flinching away from his touch or exclude him from the heart whatsoever. He's happily included, obviously feeling loved. They may not be 100% happy and Gabriel doesn't notice it, but they aren't denying him his happiness and make him unhappy. Again, he's the only one truly happy here. Something neither Emilie nor Adrien tried to take away from him.

-Emilie and Adrien are facing each other as do Emilie and Gabriel, implying the presence of communication and a bond. Adrien and Gabriel do not face each other, showing their disconnected bond. If they could see each others face Adrien would have been able to see that Gabriels hand is a gesture of genuine affection and Gabriel could see that Adriens expression does not exactly display pure happiness the way he thinks. This also goes for Emilie. Emilie just like her husband is placed BEHIND her son, so even if she is facing him she would not be able to really see just how much Adrien is not satisfied and truly happy with his life at that point (meaning how unhappy being looked up, friendless and at distance with his father actually makes him).

- This fascinating family makes me sad and I like it lol

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trutrustories · 3 years

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Okay, this will be probably long and with many errors (my english isn´t very good) But I saw several posts here on Lokius tag, talking about this ship as result of gay fetish, and about non existing chemistry and how this ship doesn´t make sense etc… And from what I understood there is tagged Lokius because of genuine interest to understand others point of view, so here is mine: I wil try to explain where my frustration comes from, and how I feel about Lokius, Sylkie, AND representation + some other things which I saw here somewhere. But first of all: I like Sylvie, I don´t hate sylkie shipers, and after so many years reading fan fictions, I don´t mind selfcest – I read weirder things. I have some issues with this ship (the mainlythe fact that it isn´t Lokius), but this is not one of them. Also, I am not about to tell anyone, they shouldn´t ship sylkie.Ship whatever. And I LOVED the show as a whole.

I just want to defend my standpoint, that Lokius does make sense, people shipping it does make sense and whether it will happen or not, (I don´t have my hopes very high, and I learned to be very skeptical in this regard ) it is more than just about crack ship, or fetish. I´m honestly blown away that people are still surprised that this ship became a thing :D First of all, let´s look at some romantic story telling and tropes: I mean the way they introduced them in the first two episodes set the tone for all series and how the heck this isn´t romantic? Somehow there are all these romantic tropes existing in a show. They´re just there. Just chilling between Loki and Mobius and large portion of audience can´t even see them. (and some of those tropes were used for Sylki as well, so you could actually see them side by side)

For example: 1) traveling to the apocalypsis 2) breaking law/rules for the other 3) literally changing for the better thanks to the other 4) arguing like old married couple 5) saying secrets, personal things to the other 6) sharing glances, touches, visibly being happy around each other - in case of Loki happier then we´ve ever seen him before 7) being completely themselfs around each other 8) One knowing everything (even the worst) about other and still accepting him completely 9) teasing, being comfortable and domestic around each other 10) one being literally enthusiastic FAN of the other 11) Mobius defending Loki whenever he has a chance 12) Freaking amnesia trope that they pulled of in the end??? (It could be different Mobius, but point is he suddenly doesn´t know him - and Loki knows more, in contrast with the beggining) 13) the jealousy in ep4 14) Misunderstanding - when Mobius thought Loki betrayed him and Loki (thanks to Ravonna) thought Mobius betrayed him... 15) witnessing death of the other and being absolutely broken afterwards 16) The goodbye hug with romantic music in the backround 17) Saving life of the one (even when it means problems for the other ) - like Mobius saved Loki´s ass at least three times when he was trying to stop others from pruning him. 18) sharing deep conversations about meanings of life, freedom and how it would be fun to make some chaos and ride that fucking jet ski!!! 19) Inspiring the other 20) looking for each other (Mobius didn´t believe for a second, that Loki would die in the Void and the way how in the last minutes of the series Loki run through all places they were together when he was looking for Mobius... and I could go on. Point is, even if they are not planning to make Lokius canon, all these things are used on a daily basis to describe romance in media and they are used here. On top of that it´s just very poetic and cute, that this drama queen and powerful god of Asgard who looked down on people would find his match in someone, who is so quiet, ordinary on the first sight, and basically is just human from 90s, who loves jet skis. Mobius can´t even fight. But is highly inteligent and he also happen to be as good manipulator, such as Loki himself. - That´s why they work together so well. Mobius sees right through him and once Loki understands that, he drops his evil persona. Almost nobody expected to ship it for real. But story itself and chemistry between them just made it probably the most exciting duo in the whole MCU. And I mean it genuinely. Third episode, even though it was beautiful and Sophie was great in it (and is literally dipped in bisexual colors), is the least favorite for a reason. And that reason being, there is no interaction between Loki and Mobius whatsoever. Lot´s of people though that series slowed down a bit. Even when in fact there was more action, then when we watched Loki and Mobius working at the TVA.

(and let´s just talk about evil!Mobius narative for a bit and how some people say he is manipulative and toxic for Loki: show itself explore heavy themes and one of them is in Loki´s line: no one bad is ever truly bad and no one good is ever truly good. And as a theme in a fictional world, it is working as it should, for the story. When Loki and Mobius meet, one of them just killed lots of innocent people and destroyed almost whole city. The other one is a part of fascist organization – and in the beginning of the series they both believe what they´re doing is right. They´re both bad, they´re both good, they´re both broken. And they are changing with the help of the other.) From all reactions I watched - and there was many of them, lots of people actually didn´t see dynamic between Loki and Sylvie as romantic in the third episode. So it´s not like Sylvie and Loki had unequivocally love story right from the start.

The only difference is that lots of people won´t see romantic tropes, when it comes to two men in a mainstream show – show that isn´t primarily about relationships and problems that queer people has to face. Because in super hero story and science fiction we have to warn audience, that they´re about to watch two man in love, right? At this point It´s just frustrating really. There were many M/M dynamics that used similar story line, as for example Lucifer, or X-files, or Bone collectors. - But unlike those M/M pairings, no one was making fun of people for shipping main characters in these shows. But when it comes to two men suddenly you´ll see from all corners of the internet: “why can´t it be just platonic?” “There is not enough platonic relationships” “why can´t two man just be friends?” (They can and they almost ALWAYS are) and “if you think there something romantic between them, you´re delusional” “fetishist“ “And for god´s sake just let them be friends, Loki needs a friend more then....” oh wait, but Sylvie is allowed to kiss him. Sylvie doesn´t have to be just friend. (And I must say, that I love Sylvie, I liked most of the interactions between her and Loki and I think she is a great character ((I hope we learn more about her in the future)) it just doesn´t work for me as well as Loki´s dynamic with Mobius. Maybe partly because of chemistry between actors, partly because combination of characters and they´re personality and also because I had two whole episodes to fall in love with the pair before Sylvie was even introduced.)

First of all: people can be friends and then evolve into lovers. Not only it is common romantic trope, but it is also the most realistic one. And those relationships are usually strongest. second: If people want to see Loki in a platonic friendship so desperately, why can´t it be a woman for a change? They were acting like chaotic siblings for most of the episode three anyway. The age gap aspect is also very funny. Owen is only about 12 years older (That is not that much. But I imagine, some people would get uncomfortable. But If it was man and woman, most of them wouldn´t even blinked. But two men, that has to be somehow automatically son and father figure dynamic) And If you want to dive into age of an actual characters, then good luck with that in a series about gods, variants and time travel. Almost nobody cares about age gap between Lucifer and detective Decker, or Bella and Edward. On top of that, it was heavily implied, that Loki slept with older, silver haired guy in Ragnarok, so it´s not like he would have problem with that.

Different standards are projected in a way how we see romantic dynamics between fictional characters depends on what we are used to, how are we perceiving world around us, what we are expecting to see and ALSO, what we would like to see, that much is true. When people are used to make no differences between heterosexual and homosexual pairing, then everything what happens to the characters is measured with the same meter. (Even though I experienced queerbaiting many times (( Once upon a time, Sherlock, Supernatural, Good Omens – the last one hopefully is not the case, but I guess we´ll see)) I also saw lots of lgbt shows like Queer as folks and Sense8.) And when we are not used to see it the same way, well… then it looks basically like that one comment under Castiel´s “I love you” scene on youtube, that said “what a beautiful friendship”.

If we forget about all that chaotic mess behind the scenes (all those articles and contrary messages) What is happening in a show between Loki and Mobius can be objectively considered romantic and what is happening between Loki and Sylvie in a series can be objectively considered platonic (until the kiss) and vice versa. And then to see comments about how absurd it is to even think they have chemistry, and about gay fetish - it´s hard to swallow. I read posts about absurdity of a ship and how there is absolutely nothing that would suggests romance. Well there is, actually. But whether creators are going to work with it or not, that´s something we can only speculate. They already made Loki officially bisexual. So why should it be so absurd to assume, that there is an actual possibility of romantic subplot between Loki and Mobius? Oh right… it´s Disney and Marvel we are talking about.

So on a subject of bisexuality: Bi people can date whoever they want. But It is a little frustrating, when there is so many heterosexual pairings in the mcu and disney but when there is a promise of lgbt character (speaking of endgame) we get one line about date from a man we´ll never see again. And when there is a promise of lgbt representation you can´t even blink during movie, or you´ll miss it (Star wars, Beauty and the beast). And then Loki said “A bit of both, I suspect the same as you”. And I won´t lie, I was happy. And I think creators made biggest step yet with this one line (which is honestly terrible, that “a bit of both” coming from Loki of all people, is the biggest step forward.) But they played it VERY safe. Obviously, both Loki, and Sylvie are bisexuals, and in three episodes, we had Loki flirting with female flight attendant, Sylvie talking about her relationship with POSTMAN and then they fall for each other. So the only thing that suggests they are really as bi as Lamentis 1 is that little sentence, that can be edited out, or easily overheard. It´s the bare minimum. And I think that frustration with how freaking slowly we´re moving into some progress is understandable. From all those great M/M dynamics I talked about, those, that could make great love story, nothing happened, because too many people “don´t mind gays but don´t need to look at them” or are scared for their children. In 2021.

It is not a fetish to wish for a gay love story in superhero movies/series. (But anyway, I don´t think there is anything bad about it. Some men like to watch lesbian porn, some woman like to read gay porn. AO3 wouldn´t be were it is today, without people reading and writing slash :D – but that has little to do with what we actually see on tv)

I´m not delusional. As much, as I love these two characters together, I know how little chance it has. I´m not delusional. I´m just in the future, old and tired, waiting hundreds of years for at least one of my OTP to finaly become a fucking canon.

#Lokius #loki series #LOKI AND MOBIUS #mobius m mobius #loki

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minuyu · 4 years

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undying love [yandere! prince! x female! reader!]

Warning: This story may contain dark and unsettling themes. Proceed at your own risk.

01: The Three of Swords.

“The prince may be the finest man I have ever laid my eyes upon. He is so light-hearted and sparkles like the most expensive jewel in the spotlight. He truly is perfect. I mean, have you seen his countenance ¹? His face has been sculpted by the very gods themselves. Not to mention, he excels in everything that he does. If he so much as looked me in the eyes, I would reach enlightenment. I do not have a doubt in my very words. Oh, he has lips that were made for kissing a maiden’s rosy cheeks. He has eyes that hold me hostage with their beauty, by much greater than the night sky ever could. His accent and words roll off his tongue like silk rubbing against bare skin, so soothing. I tell you, he is the love that all women want but no woman can receive.” The young, golden-haired maiden spoke in a hushed whisper on the streets to a small group of friends who huddled around her. With every dreamy sigh she took between her description of him, white puffed from her lips due to the cold weather. Despite this, the miniature crowd of women were warm in their hearts and cheeks, just at the very thought of the young prince.

“Can you believe that he has never looked at a woman with desire? Despite of this, I can’t blame him. Somebody who deserves their body to be placed in the stars as a constellation is much too good for me. Nonetheless, I still dream every night of him. His love must be the greatest treasure a woman can get.” One of the women among the crowd continue on. The women continue to swoon, packed on the side of the cobblestone street.

The kingdom of they called ‘home sweet home’ was one of cold weather throughout most of the year. Resting on the top of the tallest mountain that was surrounded by a ring of smaller mountains, it granted extra protection from possible enemies. At the foot of the mountains, about a two day walk from the kingdom, laid a deep and dark forest around this ring of mountains that gave them a great advantage over invaders. Tales about the forest had spread around the kingdom like wildfire due to it being so mysterious, but longer than any of the kingdom’s inhabitants. Perhaps, one of the reasons that the people were hesitant to leave the kingdom by foot, was the dark forest. Despite this, Spring still managed to peak out and greet the people with warmth and gracious nature every year. The kingdom was freezing, but with technologies advancing everyday, such as better ways of insulation and heating of homes with radiators throughout the floors and much more, they only got better at surviving the extreme temperatures. One must grow accustomed to the cold before they even think of treading in the King’s territory.

One may be surprised, however their King was one of the very best in centuries. He was one of great kindness and care for the people, a true father of the nation. In that respect, his son made the future of the kingdom seem brighter. Excelling in just about every field, prince Bastiaan, the only son and child of the King and the late Queen, seemed to be a promising leader. One subject of the kingdom could not even batter an eyelash at the royal family. Instead, she preferred to focus on those who were near to her, like other lower-class people who lived among compact housing.

Across the street from where the women had been gossiping, there laid a place where one could get their fortune told to them at a low price. Despite not giving a care in the world for the dearest prince and his father, women often came to her for tarot card readings that would hopefully predict that they would become the prince’s future queen. The shop, rugged in appearance yet strikingly colourful was her home. A big, wooden door with prune paint chipping off due to being worn out by harsh breezes during the dead of winter. On the door was a wooden sign hanging by a thick thread on a nail messily put into the door, that read ‘ Fortune Teller’.

Inside of this shop, their was a small table and multiple beanbags and cushions spread around the floor. Shelves were fulled to the brim of tattered books about astronomy, myths, tarots, readings and so much more. A small chandelier hung from a cracked ceiling, painted with a beautiful mural of golden and purple-toned flowers seeming to rain from the night sky. The chandelier had a purplish hue that made the shop seem all the more magical. In the back, through an empty threshold with a curtain of silver star-shaped beads, was a table higher off of the ground with symbolic carvings of gods and holy symbols in the purple paint of the table. Freshly lit incense stands in a painted ceramic bowl filled with rice, imported from the warmer climates down South, at the center table surrounded by the cloths design.

At the moment, two chairs were occupied. One, was taken up by a frequent client. Her name was Abella, who had also been entranced by the prince but not as much as other women. She came every week to the fortune teller, as she was always paranoid about the future. The tarot card readings gave her a sense of control, or at least helped her to prepare for any events that would take place. Abella had wavy white strands of hair that looked like the snow that fell outdoors much too often. Despite her young age, the white strands of hair were natural. Her face was long and clean, with little makeup placed upon to hide things that she called ‘flaws’. She wore a large, red trench coat that complimented her ruby crimson eyes beautifully. Only her grey, wide-ankle pants were able to be seen under the large coat she wore. She leaned in over the wooden table with the purple carvings with anticipation.

On the other chair opposite from her, sat a young woman with [hair colour] strands of hair. She wore a large and over-sized coat as well, except hers was made out of a porcelain white faux fur. Her [eye colour] eyes seemed like a maze easy to get lost in, and her black eclipse-like pupils focused on the cards as she swiftly laid them out with her [skin tone] toned hand. The back of the cards were identical, all with the same simple symbol of a round, golden circle on a plain, pitch black back. The cards were placed neatly in unison with ease that one could easily tell that the fortune teller, who was called [Name], was a master with the cards before she could likely even speak. Her soft gaze averted to the Abella, inspecting Abella’s face that was scrunched up due to the difficulty of thinking which card to pick. They all looked the same, but let to very different outcomes.

”Pick a card, any card. Your fate will remain the same. Choose the ones that call for you, and it will be true.” You reassure her. Abella was always terrible at making decisions, but with reassurance from the very person who she trusted to help her every week, Abella squeezes her eyes shut and quickly chooses three random cards. [Name] picks up with cards that Abella had chosen, and inspects them.

“For your past, you have gotten Death in the upright position. Death means that you have moved onto a new era of your life quite recently. It may have required some sacrifice and difficulty.” You tell Abella, who looked at you with her eyes as wide as saucers.

”I guess the Death card isn’t too bad.. when it’s the tarot explaining my past. Please, carry on to my present.” Abella says, biting on her lip afterwards in anticipation for what the next card would be. You move your attention back to the cards in your hand and put down The Tower card. Abella had never gotten this card before, so she quirked up at the sight. “What does it mean?” She asks desperately, as if her life depended on it. You chuckle slightly, and gently remove your touch from the tower card, leaving it in front of her and beginning to tell her what it meant, after you could hear the card speaking to you.

”The Tower in upright position. It means that there are big changes coming your way. These changes mean that any part of your life can be affected. Relationships, your job, or even financial circumstances. The chaos that the tower unleashes in this position will usually only affect one part of your life, but quite thoroughly as well. If the structures of your tower of life cannot handle this disruption without collapsing, then I suggest that it is best for you to add some new structures into your life.” You tell her, keeping your gaze focused on her to see the reaction you would receive from such a card. It wasn’t the luckiest card to get in present, but it also wasn’t the worst. The Tower meant that a part of her life will be heavily impacted. And that may be a good thing, as it will also give Abella a chance to build herself up again and choose better decisions in that part of her life.

To your surprise, Abella doesn’t speak out and shout in a blaze of worry, she continues to bite her lip and nods her head, seemingly accepting the card in front of her. It seemed as though she knew what you were talking about and knew that in the end, it would have a positive impact on her life. “Carry on, [Name].” She says, in a more serious tone. She was properly thinking about the road of her life and obviously looked like she wanted to take caution and just live the best life that she possibly could.

Finally, with the last card in your left hand’s fingers, you place it down on the table and tell her what was coming in the future, “You have gotten Strength in the upright position. This is a very powerful card and is generally a good omen. It means that anything bothering you at the moment will seem like nothing in the near future. Time will deal with all of your problems, but this happens all the time. You are lucky, Abella. The Strength card is a very good card to receive.” You tell her, a smile on your face at the good news. You feared that all the readings would be bad omens, but it seems that the Strength card turned the whole table around.

Abella smiles delightfully, tapping her shoes on the ground with joy. “What wonderful news! I was scared that The Tower would lead to more bad. It turns out it will lead me to Strength. I must go through the hardships against me, mustn't I? Thank you once again, [Name]. Knowing what is coming my way truly helps to calm my nerves.” Abella thanks you, before pulling her sleeve up slightly to show a silver watch, which produced the subtle sound of time ticking away. “I’m going to be late for lunch with my friend if I don’t hurry. I’m afraid I may have taken my sweet time.” She says before taking two silver coins out of her coat pocket and placing them on the table. “Thank you kindly for the services once again, [Name]. I’ll be back for another one next week, as per usual.” Abella says, a pleased smile on her lips, completely different to the serious and frightened expression on her face as she was biting her lip earlier. Abella rises from the wooden chair and walks towards the exit of the shop, her white hair looking like a waterfall of snow as it drifted to her tailbone. Soon, you heard the door open and slam shut, meaning that she had left. Now, you sat alone in silence, with the muffles of life outside barely able to be heard. You get the cards and shuffle them up once again before placing them inside a box.

Standing up, you place the pack of tarot cards within a small wooden box on one of your shelves, where it was now accompanied by at least a dozen other decks in the box. Closing the box, you decide that perhaps it was time for yourself to grab of something to eat, after all you could hear your stomach crying out for something pleasant to the tongue. You walk to the other side of the back room and pull open a black curtain, revealing a dark wooden set of stairs to the second story of the building. In the kingdom, most people usually had a shop on their lower floor and their home on the upper one. You found it quite functional and began walking up the steps calmly, despite the planks of wood moaning out with the threats of snapping in two due to wear and tear for decades. You lived in quite an old building. While it was not the best, it still had cheap rent and was home to you.

Alas, your home could never compare to the gleaming white palace of pearl and golden detailing. The palace had towers that stretched up to the heavens and large windows that could barely give one a peek at their lavish lifestyle among the riches that their ancestors had collected through the eras. It may surprise a newcomer, however they were the only family that had ever been on the throne. True, pure blood royalty.

The main doors were large and plain white with golden detailing and a large star in the middle that was made out of stained glass. The stained glass changed, depending on who’s reign it was. During the current King’s reign, it was red with a white flower in the middle of it, standing for fortune, purity and hope. At the back of the palace however, things got even grander with a garden too large for one to walk around in one day and manage to admire every single beautiful thing that it had.

In despite of this, the prince’s keen, dark pearl eyes stared into the forest from his bedroom window, wishing for some adventure, or at least something new. Being forced to try your best at everything was tiring, and it was more tiring having to live up to everybody else’s expectations of you for your entire life. The prince was tall, standing at about six feet and three inches tall, about 190cm. He had a slender build, but his black outfit hid his well-toned muscle that had been build up over the years. Nevermind the fact of him being the best in combat, such as sword fighting especially, he didn’t have a single scratch on his skin that was as pale as the snow. Naturally, his cheeks were dusted with red due to the cold weather and slightly around his eyes as well, that were narrow and accompanied with orbs that were dark like the night sky. His lips had a slight red tint to it, but so subtle that one could tell if they examined him for a moment. His jet black hair was wavy and medium-cut for a man with it split in the middle of his forehead. His hair was undercut as well slightly, giving him an even cleaner look. His hairstyle was truly charming, and was one of the most trendy hairstyles every year. The prince nonchalantly ran his long, slender fingers through his hair and stood up from the window seat, the grey light peaking out from the clouds falling on his shoulders. The prince wore a long-sleeved black shirt was a button-up, however the shirt went past to be buttoned up at the left side of his chest. His buttons were also black. There was a golden dragon embroidered on the prince’s shirt, but nothing was embroidered on his pants. They were plain black as well, and his shoes were pointy-toed and gleamed with ever step, but could never out-shine the prince no matter how much one polished them.

“Your highness, the king awaits you in the amber private tearoom. He wishes to discuss your future.” The prince, named Bastiaan was being spoke to by a man who was neat in countenance despite the wrinkles beginning to form on his face. This man was his personal royal adviser. He had his grey hair slicked back, and the usual uniform of a white dress shirt and black pants but with red detailing, showing that his status was high thanks to the fact he was working closely for the royal family. The only person in the palace who ever dressed to show off their wealth was prince Bastiaan’s father, Alaric Beaumont Marchand Oscar D’Aramitz, who’s old age didn’t restrain him from wearing heavy red cloaks and jewels and badges all across the sash he wore. His pale grey hair still held some black streaks from his early, younger days.

”Very well then.” Prince Bastiaan responds monotonously, face void of emotion. His shoes clacked against the gleaming floor with elegance, and as he reached the expensive door, it was opened by two royal guards on either side. Walking past them, the prince makes his way to his father, the king himself. He could feel a nervous lump in his throat.

As Prince Bastiaan walks along the polished halls, the floor tiled with black and gold marble. The wallpaper was extravagant and light in colour. There were paintings of past rulers and paintings done by famous artists, some of the paintings centuries old. Soon, he regretfully arrived at the end of the hall at a door much larger and grander than the rest, so detailed by gold that you could barely see the canvas that the gold had been laid upon. Prince Bastiaan dusts his outfit off and fixes himself up before running his hand yet again through his dark, silky smooth locks. Then he clears his throat and stands still. At last, the guards open the grand door for him and he is wet with the conservatory. Despite it being winter, the glass was so thick that it was warm inside. The room felt cosy despite being fairly large due to the large fireplace that roared on viciously behind his father. There he was. The man of the era. The man that ruled the kingdom. The man that ruled his life. He sat deep in thought, not noticing his son’s glamorous arrival. Several of his knuckles rested upon his chin as he contemplated deeply about god knows what. The room was dim, most likely ordered to be by his father who disliked bright light, complaining about the strain it placed on his eyes. Instead, the orange light of the fire lit up the room, accompanied by several lavender scented candles scattered about the room.

Prince Bastiaan coughs, gaining his father’s attention. The king turns his head, looking at him with surprised eyes, having not noticed him enter. “You wished to speak with me, father?” He questioned, looking at his father’s grey orbs that matched his hair like the grey stone walls that had protected the kingdom for decades.

”Indeed. Please, take a seat, my boy.” His father responds. The king takes a porcelain teapot with fine blue designs on it from the table, and pours chamomile tea into two matching tea cups. There was a small three tiered tray of savoury treats, all attractively colourful and delicious. Their smell mixed with the lavender, making the room that tiny bit more enjoyable. Following his father’s wishes, the prince swiftly sits down on a matching, large wooden chair that was cushioned with soft, velvet, maroon fabric.

”It is time to speak about a certain topic, my boy. Your future. However, I would like to focus on a specific part. Which is, love. Every king and every queen has had a partner by their side. Love makes us stronger. My son, you are a gift from the heavens. Everyday, with each new achievement you make, I think to myself, ‘Is he really my boy? He’s so talented, and capable, someday maybe he will be as great as me.” The prince’s father begins. The prince stays silent, grabbing his tip of tea gently with his left hand as he pays attention. The only thing interrupting his father was the slight cackling of the fire.

“My son, I wish for you to find a beloved. Perhaps, even a wife. Or even, a meaningless fling with a noble lady to your liking. You must relax. Sometimes, I look at your listless face and ask myself, ‘What happened to the little boy who used to smile at every single thing, as if it meant the world to him?’. I do not wish to find you a wife myself, however I may feel inclined to if you do not find one within the next six months. Or at the very least, a love interest. Every woman in this kingdom rests at your feet, worshiping your status, beauty and intelligence. Surely, it will not be an issue.” The king states.

”Father, this is unfair. I hate to argue with you, I truly do, but I do not wish for any of these women. There is no challenge. They all fall to my feet and would willfully marry me if I so much as glance at them. They claim to love me so deeply, they claim that I am god’s lost child, however they do not know me at all. The noble ladies wish to marry and converse to me for the status and money. My looks and capability are just a bonus. If I marry women like them, what will become of me? I must set an example, and if I get married, my wife shall be an example to the rest of the kingdom as well. I refuse for you to control my love life. I am perfectly capable of ruling this kingdom on my very own. When the time is right, I will marry. If that time never comes, it is of no importance. It is only love.” The prince responds, hands tightening around the arm rests to restrain his temper. In his head he could hear multiple voices of those who have commented on his love life before.

‘Prince Bastiaan is perfect, so why doesn’t he marry already?’, ‘I wish he would look at me and realize that I’d be willing to marry him. He’s a gift from the divinity I tell you.’, ‘Have you seen the prince? He must be quite a loner if he hasn’t ever had a lover at his age.”

You could visibly tell that Prince Bastiaan’s calm response had set the king off with rage. “You will marry. You have six months at most. Do not dare defy me once more.” The king threatens, his voice dangerously low. Full to the brim with anger and disappointment towards his father, the prince raises up to his feet and begins taking swift and large strides along the halls towards his bedroom. Once he reaches his destination, he opens the door himself, leaving the guards slightly confused, only to realize what had happened when the prince slams the doors behind him

His back was now pressed against the door and he looked down at his feet. He knew that he couldn’t impress everybody. He knew that everybody admired him, or at least, everyone except his father. He couldn’t understand why it was so important to find a partner in life, and he truly didn’t wish for one. He had read multiple romance novels from the palace library and all seemed to be filled with heartache and tragedy. He was not about to sign himself up for something that he knew would inflict emotional pain on him. If he was hurt in any way, he couldn’t continue being the perfect man that he was, and it seemed that only god knew how difficult it was to live to people’s standards. With the marker set up so high, even if he was slightly off target, everybody would be disappointed. The prince clicked his pointy tips together before walking towards the window and inspecting the kingdom that lay before him. The kingdom that he was set to reign over.

Prince Bastiaan had heard from whispers on the street that there was a fortune teller. One that could tell fortune with great accuracy, and who’s abilities brought those who didn’t believe in her to their knees. He gazed out, looking for his answer in his mind. If he hired the fortune teller, perhaps it would help with his love life. Especially if she would tell him about his progress every week and what is to come. That way, he could be prepared for any emotional storm that would come. That way, he would learn how to win a woman’s heart with his personality alone. Despite of this, the prince felt his hope slip through his arms as he realized that he did not know what his personality really was. He was a puppet, or even a mere doll that everybody played with. The doll had to be whatever the people wanted, and they wanted a true idol. One that could compete against the greatest gods. Before he could think any further on that matter, a loud knock sounded on the door.

“Your highness, lady Isla from the house of Brodeur has come for your meeting. She is waiting for you inside of the amber private tearoom where you once were. Your father has retreated to his private quarters, so you two will have the tearoom to yourselves.” The royal adviser's voice informed the prince through the door, slightly muffled.

”Yes, I’m on my way.” The prince says. “That’s today?” He whispers to himself surprised. He sighs, deciding that perhaps lady Isla was his only choice at the moment. After all, she was obsessed with him. She stuck to him like glue and whenever they were at the same ball or gala, she would follow him despite the weaves and turns he would make. She often bragged to her group of friends with how she was childhood friends with the prince, despite him not considering them friends at all for that matter. Her affections were completely one-sided yet she never stopped chasing after him. The prince looked back at the kingdom and sighed. Perhaps he should gather some suitable choices for himself before making his final decision. He needed somebody suitable to be the mother of the country. He wanted them to be great, or even greater than his late mother.

The prince spun on his heel and went through the same corridor and door to return back to the tearoom. He had managed to recollect his thoughts, and felt much more calmer now. However, he had no idea how he would appeal as amorous or even properly flirtatious to a woman. After all, he did not find Lady Isla even the slightest bit appealing, not as a lover or a queen.

When the prince entered the room, he saw Lady Isla standing tall and joyfully. At first glance, she seemed neat and mature. She was quite tall for a woman, standing at around 5’9. Shiny dark brown hair cut into a bob. Her diamond blue eyes scan over the prince, taking in all of his beauty with a pleased smile on her face.

“Your highness, thank you for meeting with me today. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.” She says thankfully, grabbing the back of the chair where the king himself had once sat, and curtsied, bowing her head much deeper than required to show how grateful she was. In all honesty, the prince had only agreed to this meeting in order to tell her straightforwardly that he was not interested in her. The love-sickness that was tied to him had grown annoying and was interfering with his work. Now it seemed that we had to do the complete opposite of what he desired to save face.

”You may sit.” Prince Bastiaan says motioning to the chair in front of him. Lady Isla blushes as she sits down on the maroon chair. The fact she was in his presence and could have his full attention for a small while made her feel like her heart was about to pound of its chest. The prince saw her as foolish, especially since she had sat down. Yes, he may have told her to, but she should know that it is required that any royal blood sits down first. It seemed that she had failed in the department of manners. How could a queen not even know the rules, manners, and laws of her own country? Prince Bastiaan sat down opposite Isla and felt pressured by her large eyes piercing at him intently, not leaving his figure for a split second. He felt uncomfortable but decided to use his confidence. He was a prince after all.

The prince looked Isla directly back into her eyes with a listless face. She could feel that her heart was skipping beats like crazy, she was surprised that she had not fallen over with a heart attack. Though she didn’t know that the prince was testing out one of the moves he had learnt from reading romance books. His heart was supposed to flutter at the very sight of her, he was supposed to feel his heart skip a beat. But there was no warm feeling, no happiness, no sped up heartbeat. Nothing. Perhaps it was time for him to accept that he had been granted the gift of being talented in return for his ability to love.

“How was your morning?” The prince asks, as a servant comes over and begins to pour them a pot of freshly brewed green tea. He breaks gaze with Isla and picks up his teacup, taking a small sip out of it to take the warm liquid in.

”It-It was alright. And yours, Bastiaan?” She asked, longing for his dark orbs to stare into hers again. Even if the interaction was over, her heart would not stop beating quickly. Prince Bastiaan put down his teacup as he tried not to flinch with repulsion and her poor manners. Was she a noble lady or a slave? He decided that she really was not the one that was worth the status of being Queen.

”It was lovely meeting you once again today. I have my studies to attend to. Thank you for coming, perhaps we could meet again in the near future. However, I am quite busy today.” The prince lied with his cold tongue. In whatever way though, the noble lady’s heart could not be cooled down.

“That is...is quite alright,” She stuttered out, in disbelief that he had actually said that he hoped that they could ‘meet again in the near future’. Had something changed? Perhaps the prince was finally paying attention to the sort of things that other men his age would. Regardless, the prince just wanted to get out of this situation and as far away as possible. He didn’t want to appear rude after what he had pulled today, it may damage his reputation.

“I’ll be off.” He vocalized, before standing and retreating back to his chambers. He rushed to the window and placed his hand on the clear glass, as if reaching out. Taking a deep breath in. He needed help, desperately. He was afraid to admit it, but this fortune teller seemed to be his only choice. If he was to find his perfect bride within six months, he needed to get help in avoiding women who didn’t live up to the standards. He needed hints. So with that, the prince walked over to the part of his room where a rope hung from the ceiling. Grabbing it with his hands and pulled, ringing the summoning bell. Several moments later, the royal adviser walks inside of his bedroom.

“Summon that fortune teller near the compact housing. The one that the common folk and nobles alike speak of.” He demanded, not seeing any reason to justify his actions. He was simply complying with his father’s wishes, but not so much in the way that the king expected. He spoke with utmost certainty, determined to find the perfect queen, even if there were no feelings of admiration.

The royal adviser simply compiled, slightly caught off guard by the request. “Right away, your highness. I will come back to you with them soon.” The adviser responds, before disappearing once again, the doors shutting closed silently behind him.

Prince Bastiaan sighs sorrowfully, and sits down on a large couch in his bedroom. His room had a black and white marble floor, with wallpaper that was black and golden. Black was his favourite colour. It was practical and fit every occasion. Parties, afternoon tea, funerals, ceremonies, etc. Not only that, but the young prince swore to wear black for the rest of his life after his mother had passed, at the age of eight.

Entering your shop, you move to take your coat off but are interrupted by insistent knocking on the front door. You open it a smidge and peek through to see a young man in full plate armor.

“Are you the fortune teller of this shop?” He asks eyeing you down.

“Yes…?” You answer, opening the door a bit more. You are about to ask what kind of fortune he wants to be read, when he speaks again.

“Prince Bastiaan of the royal family requests your audience.” You stand there with a confused look on your face. You had just gotten home from finishing a late lunch, and several minutes later, a palace knight had come knocking on your door. To tell you that the prince “requests your audience”.

”Why?” You ask, hoping to get some answers. The whole scenario makes you scratch your head, wondering why the prince would want a simple fortune teller.

”You are expected at the palace by ten in the evening, tonight. A carriage will come to pick you up at nine in the evening. Have a splendid day. Long live the king.” The knight states, completely dodging your question. It seemed that your question was either confidential information or the guard did not care to answer. You sigh, seeing that you had no choice. You slam the door shut with anger at the knight who hadn’t even bothered to give you a simple answer. Now, your thoughts will wander until ten in the evening, when you were supposed to meet the prince. Then, you froze. Akin to a statue when you realized that you were meeting the acclaimed perfect prince from fairy tales that young ladies dream about. You had to look your best. If you looked the slightest bit scrappy, god knows what would happen to you. The prince may think that you are disrespecting him with informality and as a result, his father would behead you. Alright, perhaps that was a bit of a stretch, but it was still plausible.

You hurried upstairs. It was already six in the evening and you only had three hours to make yourself look better than you ever have before. You admit, you didn’t care much about royalty or wooing the prince. However, you did care about paying respect to where respect was due. Though you hated to admit it, the prince had a heart of generosity. Not only did he give 90% of his homeless subjects homes and jobs, he helped fill their stomachs until they were stable and able to survive on their own without his aid. Prince Bastiaan had even risked his life in battle more times than you could count for the kingdom, returning without a scratch. He was the rightful owner of the title, Angel of Beauty and Blood. It sounded quite cliche to you, but you knew that it was true.

Your wooden planked floors creaked with every step you made, begging for repair and threatening to break. You paid no mind to the creaks and entered your small box of a bedroom. It was full of herbs, orbs, and dried out vegetables, specifically for making medicines. The white wallpaper was stained yellow and was chipping off of the wall. Some of the wall was covered by a large tapestry of a purple eye, which was pinned up with two small nails. In the corner of the uncomfortably small room was a dresser, with your clothes hung up with thin, metal hangers. There was a drawer at the bottom, where inside were your underwear, tights, shirts, and pants. You reached out for a hanger that held a purple and white dress. It was lilac and strapless, and the chest area looked as though it was a purple-toned water lily. The bottom was quite puffy and had translucent fabric stacked on top in order to add that extra volume. It had small, silver shimmers that seemed as though they could catch the moonlight, and overall, was quite cute and elegant. It had matching, long lilac gloves that went up a few inches past your elbows, and had silver ends with white flowers embroidered on neatly. This dress was once your mothers from what you could tell judging by the tag inside having the words ‘from mother’ sewed into it. You only wore it on the most special occasions, and this one was certainly a special occasion.

You slithered out of your day wear, abandoning your old clothes on the floor before picking them up and placing them in a small laundry bag that hung on door’s knob, handcrafted from an old sack of potatoes. Afterwards, you proceeded to put on your special outfit. You admit that perhaps you had grown quite a bit since your last special occasion, as it was slightly more difficult to zip yourself up into the dress. As you put on the rest of your outfit on, such as the gloves and your white tights due to the cold weather. Afterwards, you went into the bathroom and stared yourself in the mirror. You wanted to give yourself a speech to psych yourself but as your lips parted, nothing came out. You had the lowest rank a person could have, and the second highest rank, only to the king, that belonged to the prince wished to get in touch with you. Yes, you. The [hair colour] haired girl staring right back at you in the cracked mirror. Perhaps you had the right to believe that broken mirrors granted you bad luck. If word got out you met with the prince, wouldn’t business become better? What if they gave you free snacks there? What if you were making a big deal out of nothing? What if you showed up to palace looking like a purple doll while the prince was in his pajamas? Wouldn’t you look like an idiot? In fact, what if business went south? What if people got jealous that you talked to the prince? What if all the women in the kingdom couldn’t accept you?

You shake your head before the anxieties driving around your mind could come back to you any faster. You gripped the edges of the sink with your fingers turning white due to how hard you gripped it. You breathe in. “One, two, three. Breath out gently.” A young man with golden hair and snowy white orbs, looked you right in the eyes as you opened them gently. “Better, isn’t it? If you feel worried, then remember to breathe. I won’t always be here to remind you of that.” He says, a small smile on his rosy lips.

“I feel much more calm now. My nerves.. aren’t as tense. Too bad the sweat on my hands can’t be taken back into my skin, I feel like I’ll form a river. I just.. I’m so nervous for this. I truly believe in this, Florian. I truly do. If I can make even the smallest change-“ You were cut off by Florian’s small, melodic chuckle.

“Yes, I know, I know. [Name], you can change the world. You can do much better than your pathetic excuse of a friend. Keep your head held high. As a famous poet once said, ‘a happy soul is the best shield for a cruel world’. Stay smiling bright like you always are. Now, get out there and knock their socks off!” Florian reassures you, his hands gripping the sides of your arms and encouraging you. His smile shone brighter than a million suns and you felt blinded by his beauty and grace. Your soft fingers gripped into the sides of his arms in return, with stress and darkness. It was as if there was a rain on your parade and the sun had come to personally greet and save you. You regretfully let go of his arms, your own dropping to your sides. You bite your bottom lip and nod, feeling determined.

“You sway the heavens like the branches in the wind. Surely, you can sway this crowd of people with your talent.” Florian says, before squeezing your sides tightly then letting go.

You pant, your eyes wide and shaky. Your legs tremble and you fall down onto your backside, colliding with the hard tiled floor of the bathroom. Who was Florian? Yes, it seemed like a memory, but you weren’t sure if flashbacks got that intense. Your hands felt numb and your fingernails hurt from how hard you had unknowingly gripped upon the sink.

Though you did not like to spread the information, you had amnesia. The earliest memory you ever had was waking up on the side of the street completely stripped of any memory or coin, as though you had been brutally kidnapped then abandoned. You’ve been dealing with it for seven years. Seven years of never knowing who you were, where you came from or what your family was like. It did not make you too sad because you couldn’t miss a part of your life that you couldn’t remember. You occasionally got, what you believed to be, glimpses of your past. They put you through intense emotions, and left you feeling as though you had experienced a panic attack about a hundred times within a minute. Your head ached desperately as your fist weakly hit the floor. God, you wished that you could remember something. Your fist raised from the cold floor and onto the top of your head. However, your hit against the top of you head was weak as well. Your fingers, covered by gentle cloth intertwined with your [hair colour] strands that rose messily out the top of your head.

Getting back up shakily, you stare at yourself in the mirror. There was a small, wooden clock that ticked sorrowfully in the lonely bathroom, signalling that it was already at seven in the evening. Had time really flown by so quickly? Well, time is a construct. It flies by when you long for it to linger for longer, and lingers for longer when you long for it to fly by.

You pick up the brush that rested on the sink and brushed out the tangles in your hair, and styled your hair in a way so that it was neat and tucked behind the ears. Doing so gave you a clean look, as if you were a completely different class. You practiced smiling in the mirror. As you practiced, you suddenly halted. Had you become crazy? Why were you practicing how to smile?

Slightly angry at yourself for wasting time by getting carried off on a tangent, you hurriedly finished up your hair, using all sorts of products to make it smell luscious and look better than it ever had in its lifetime. You finished several minutes after the clock had hit eight. Now, you lightly placed some natural appearing makeup and hugged your faux fur coat tight around your body. You looked at yourself and took out a pearl necklace. It was on sale, and perhaps fake due to the cheap price you managed to get it in, so you had bought it just in case something like this had come up. You slipped on some white flats, not willing to risk a mishap in heels.

It was now half past eight and you were pretty much ready. All that was left was to pack the things you’d need. The prince most likely called upon you as audience due to your fortune telling abilities. You made your way downstairs, switching the light off in the bathroom.

You picked up a white satchel with some embroidery done into it of purple flowers. You had gotten it for such a cheap price despite it being quite the steal, especially since there was purple. You felt connected to the colour, even if it maybe wasn’t your favourite. Your empty satchel felt like a feather as you wrapped it around your body, then proceeded to look around the shelves. The small, brown box called out to you from the shelves, driving you to pick it up. Inside, there was a small, glass orb. The glass orb could give the user a warning to one’s future at the price of a drop of blood. This let the orb know whose future to read, and helped it to accurately show a glance at one’s future.

You began your course of action for the drab, amber box that held around about a dozen different tarot cards. You selected the one that stood out of the pile. The cards had a back of black with the national flower painted upon. It was truly a beautiful selection of cards, so you put it into your bag as well, with all the cards held together inside a black card box. It wasn’t in top condition with numerous scratches on the cover, however you didn’t pay any mind to this, considering it was the tarot cards that mattered.

Deciding to not travel too heavily, you simply place your purse into the satchel, now ready to go. You wait several minutes while sitting at the round table in the back room, eyes straight at the rusty clock. It was ten minutes away from nine in the evening, which was when you were told to be picked up. However, you jumped slightly when you heard a loud, firm knock upon your wooden door, causing the door to threateningly shake, as if it were to fall any moment.

Quickly, you advance towards the oak door, unlocking it shakily. Your hands shuddering slightly as the brass key in the lock turned. You opened the door just by a peak, to see the royal knight’s eyes shift from staring straightforward at the door, towards you. His eyes widened slightly, yet he was quick to conceal his feelings. The royal knight seemed to be around his early thirties, still looking fairly young despite signs of ageing beginning to form. He wore a cerulean and argent uniform with a plain white sash around his slightly built form. There were several badges on it, indicating that he was of a fairly high status.

”Greetings. I came here early to warn you, but it appears that you’re ready.” The knight says, able to see part of your outfit and how nicely you had done your hair compared to beforehand. “Well, I’m glad that we’ll have no rush. We can leave early if you’d prefer. That way, we can be positive, with the utmost certainty that you won’t be late.” The knight suggests, his grey gaze staring at you, waiting for an answer.

“I guess that’s logical. Let’s be on our merry way then.” You respond, stepping out of your house and locking the door behind you. Afterwards, the guard leads you to a black car that was as spotless as a ballroom floor. Waxed so greatly and excessively that you would’ve mistaken it for some sort of gorgeous eclipse. The windows were lined with a pale gold and there were two small kingdom flags on either side of the back. The guard holds the golden handle and opens the door with ease, gesturing for you to go into the car. In all honesty, this felt a bit sketchy, as though you may be getting kidnapped.

Despite your thoughts, you complied and simply stepped into the vehicle, resting against the fine, red leather. The front of the car was separated from the back with a wall, which had a screen inside, allowing the person at the back to open or close it as they pleased. You stay still and gaze outside the window, reality starting to come to you. You really were about to meet the prince. You really were in a royal car. You really were summoned. As all this was processed, you gulped nervously.

“You did amazing, [Name]! I’m so proud of you.” Florian tells you, a bright smile on his lips.

“I know this is a competition but my god, you are good. I don’t think I can win this.” Florian adds before gazing towards the mountains. Your gaze follows his, resting on how the snow fell gently, like a million feathers upon the ground. You smile gently to yourself, seeing the sunset paint the sky purple and red, all as though it was from an expensive painting brought to life.

“I only did well thanks to your great advice. Remembering to breathe helped me much more than I would have thought. All of the methods you teach me are very helpful.” You reply gladly.

”Gosh, this is tiring. I guess we’re working together now instead of going solo. On the bright side, there’s only one more mountain to go.” Florian reminds you before pointing his pale finger towards a tall, dark mountain. Clouds hid the top of the mountain, with shadows from the sky cast a cloak of mystery and dread.

“Are you sure that’s the right mountain? I thought the instructors said that we wouldn’t have to go up a mountain that high.” You speculate, hand on your brow in confusion.

”Please, [Name]. My navigation skills are top tier. You’re lucky I’m helping you. Look at the map, I’ve read it perfectly.” Florian responds harshly, obviously stressed. He didn’t have the best map skills, but believed that he could manage. So, he handed the tattered map over to you.

“Oh, this is supposed to be a competition. Why are you so supportive? Do you have some ulterior motive?” You interrogate him, your gaze breaking away from the frosty mountains and towards your friend with golden strands. His diamond eyes squinted slightly before turning to you. He pouts as he turns to gaze at the mountain again.

“You’ll feel relieved to know that I don’t. I understand how this competition can benefit us both, however. Enjoying these moments with you along the way is much better. I’d be happy to let you win, [Name].” Florian responds, before his smile fades away and his eyebrows knit together, concerned. While you both chat, you continue to look at the map.

”Florian, the map is upside down!” You yell, before sighing heavily. “I can not believe this. This is outrageous. We’ve been walking for a week in the completely wrong direction, Florian!” You complain, a whine escaping your mouth as you kick your legs in a childlike manner.

“What?! Since when-?” Florian is cut off by a knock. Wait, a knock?

”Ma’am, please wake up. I’m terribly sorry to disturb your doze, however we have arrived.” The knight tells you from outside the window, his knuckles gently acting as an alarm for you to wake up to. The knocking had brought you to your senses as your [eye colour] eyes examined the real world around you. Two flashbacks in one night? This was too much for you. You noticed you had a blanket of goosebumps on your skin and that you had been lying there in a cold sweat. Slightly embarrassed, you nod your head.

”Yes, it is no problem. Do not apologize, I’m the one who should be sorry. I apologize for falling asleep in the car.” You reply, your fingers reaching for the handle, only for it to be pulled away by the guard opening the door for you. He had no need to bow, especially since your rank was lower than his. In fact, you were lucky that he was being kind to you at all. You heard many stories of knights who were disrespectful and rude to those in the lower class.

You step out of the polished black car and as soon as you do, a butler steps inside and drives the cab away. You watch it for a second before following behind the guard towards the palace. As you looked up at it, you felt your jaw drop to the ground. It was more beautiful than the paintings or stories could have ever told you.

The palace consisted of pearl and white marble on the outside, with gold intricately interrupting the sheet of white, adding more elegance. The palace was so large yet sparkling clean, as though there was a layer of fresh snow, glimmering with beauty and grace in the moonlight. Marble steps led up to the palace. Taking note of this, you were careful of each step you took towards the top of at least dozens of steps, especially as marble was slippery, and looked freshly washed. This made you thankful for the light blue carpet that extended from the landing at the top of the steps and through the closed doors of the palace that hovered over you.

“We’ve arrived ten minutes early, so please wait in the staff room. Once the prince has summoned you, I’ll ensure somebody comes to guide you to his private library.” The knight informs you. As you both walk towards the main door, two other knights equipped with gleaming gold did some sort of knock on the door, signalling for it to be opened. As the large doors open, you felt all the luxury hit you in the face. Standing in shock at the perfect fairy tale scene. You had no idea that the inside would be able to compete with the extravagance of the outside.

The walls of the palace were tall and were not shy to show off the expensive foreign wallpaper plastered upon them. The floor was made of black jade, with golden symbols detailed upon the jade. On the ceilings hung chandeliers as if they were made of the most expensive pure diamond, crying droplets of light that illuminated the hallway. There was a bright red carpet on the floor that led up to a set of silver and golden double doors at the end of the hallway.

“Please follow me, ma’am.” The knight who was accompanying you stated, leading you down the long hallway. You were still in the hall, your eyes gleaming like a child eyeing their Christmas present and your legs nervously wobbly from the thought of the person you were about to encounter. One’s home reflected the person, and if the prince’s home was this grand, then perhaps, you had underestimated just how meaningful, important and powerful the royal family really was. You knew they had the power to kill you without a single person questioning the act, but you had never known that perhaps the empire was larger than you had thought. How were you supposed to know? Books were not exactly of easy access to you, as you had to buy them or pay the entry fee to go inside the public library.

The knight takes a left, leading you down a different hallway. Stopping at the third door on the right. The door was extravagant, however looked less expensive than the others. The knight proceeded to open the door for you and stepped to the side, his arm pushing the door open.

“Go inside, ma’am. You will be summoned shortly.” The knight states as you walk through the door, only to jump slightly as the knight lets it slam shut behind you. You look around to see several maids sewing and gossiping on a purple velvet couch. Several butlers and cleaners seemed to be resting as well. It seemed as though you had been put in the staff’s resting quarters. Your feet tapped against the grey and white marble floor. You approached a small, round table colored brass. You sat down on the matching chair nervously, hoping not to catch too much attention. Despite your attempt, one of the maids seem to notice your presence at long last and whispers to the other maids before putting down the scarf she was knitting to approach you. She sits down on one of the four chairs surrounding the table, and smiles kindly at you.

The maid was wearing the usual black and white outfit, with her hair a shade of premature grey. Looking to be in her late twenties.

“Hello there, I am Guinevere. I’m the co-head of the south wing’s maids. Are you here for work?” She asks, tilting her head with curiosity.

“Actually, I’ve been summoned by the prince to tell his fortune. It is lovely meeting you by the way, I am [Name].”

¹ countenance ; a person’s face/expression

Status: Edited

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #reader #reader insert #self insert #prince #horror #fiction #romance

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