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thesherrinfordfacility · 3 months

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six months on (albeit, a bit late) part 1/3

part one | part two | epilogue (at some point)

hello would you like a stupid-length run down of the final fifteen?

idk about anyone else, but i kinda find myself regularly in a position where i don't know what to think about the final fifteen. i flit from one explanation or opinion to another; there have been so many facets of this sequence discussed that ive even found myself turned around on what i actually think was going on... was aziraphale threatened? did he do a complete 180 on his character development throughout both seasons? does he genuinely buy what metatron is telling him? how does he take crowley's rejection to return to heaven with him?

so back to basics, and because im itching to stretch the meta-writing legs that isn't solely an ask response or a purely batshit speculation - and because throughout writing this, i anticipate that i might surprise myself on how, overall, i interpret the whole scene... going back to basics and simply rewatching the scene (and making copious notes) is in order! just don't expect this to be anything you've necessarily not seen before - there are no revelations in this post.

please also note that this is an incredibly long, winding, and abhorrently lengthy post. no im not actually sorry about it, i needed to write it all out for my own bloody sanity

shall we begin?

so first thing's first: metatron saying his first line as he did indicates that aziraphale has expressed some hesitation. might be his body language, or possibly he's even said as such - something along the lines of, 'id need to discuss it with crowley', or something as simple as, 'im not sure, i need to think'. either way, aziraphale certainly responds to the metatron in a way that would suggest he is excited... but definitely incredulous and nervous.

and as for the metatron terming it as 'good news'; he seems to think that he and aziraphale are on the same page, that they hold the same opinion on whatever they've talked about. given what he later says about crowley, however - plus the borderline-disparaging remarks about going his own way, the Evil Glare™, and how quickly he just accepts that crowley isn't going - suggest that he a) doesn't want crowley in heaven, and b) that he anticipates that crowley will, in fact, consider the offer to return to heaven as very much Bad News Bears, and summarily reject it.

aziraphale starts making his way back to the bookshop, and boy do those expressions tell a story. that is not a happy angel. as soon as he steps off the pavement, his face falls, and his brow tightens in nerves, worry, and possibly even confusion; that to me is a, 'how the fuck am i going to explain this, how am i even going to word it?'. there's a quick, fortifying breath, and he's squaring the shoulders just as he moves out of frame. getting fanciful, that is an angel that is practically steeling himself to do battle; he knows crowley isn't going to like this, knows that it's going to be a hard sell. but what is key is that he does all of this walking away from the metatron, where he can't see - if nothing else, it's a very different expression to the 'excitement' he showed just seconds earlier.

but then he gets into the bookshop, and that expression is gone. for whatever reason, he doesn't want crowley to see it either. he doesn't want crowley to see anything less than joy, confidence, or excitement - he doesn't want to let crowley see that something is wrong/amiss. we then see the metatron, after establishing that muriel might be an adequate replacement to look after the bookshop, look across the street and presumably have a clear view of the two of them in the shop itself.

now, let's talk about crowley for a sec. crowley is equally nervous, and we can presume that it stems from the conversation with nina and maggie - that he needs to start opening communication with aziraphale, especially if anything is to move forward... and the best place to start, we presume (because, ultimately, we don't know for certain what he was going to say or how he was going to word it in this moment) is to propose that he and aziraphale - if nothing else - truly become an 'us'. maybe there's a love confession in there, maybe not. regardless, he's fidgety, but resolute; he even swipes off his glasses to show how committed he is to diving headfirst into this vulnerability that he otherwise keeps under wraps.

aziraphale, whilst crowley is word-vomiting, is immediately starting off with hand movements to get him to slow down, to quieten down, or stop talking altogether. as he does so, he's looking right back out of the shop window, as if he's aware of metatron's reciprocal gaze in. he's doing so with a pretty sincere smile on his face, and that to me is saying a couple of things:

aziraphale, i think, from the moment he set foot in the shop and saw nina and maggie coming back out, possibly already knew where crowley was going with the conversation. he's just watched as crowley practically offered up alpha centauri to gabriel and beelzebub as a refuge, somewhere he's already expressed that he and aziraphale could go to escape the apocalypse. so; to aziraphale's mind, in crowley doing so, a) crowley has chosen to remain on earth come what may - otherwise he'd have kept his chosen prospective bolthole quiet, and b) in the context where crowley offers it to them, as a safe place for two hereditary enemies just like them to love each other in peace, aziraphale recognises that that might have been what crowley wanted for them too. ergo, to my mind, crowley's confession is not necessarily a surprise to aziraphale - i daresay he likely saw it coming

aziraphale does not jump in straight away to interrupt crowley, and nor does he do it with any harsh or abrupt language. he wants to revisit this conversation - literally the meaning of 'hold that thought' - but what he has to say takes precedence. and to be fair, depending on how we interpret the preceding scene with the metatron (and what is revealed in the flashback conversation), it is arguably a more pressing matter to discuss, especially if it concerns their respective safeties... but it's a conversation he wants to return to

that being said, if aziraphale does know that the confession is inbound, the fact that he would treat it as somewhat of a joking matter - especially given how uncomfortable and fervent crowley's own demeanour is - is a bit... nasty? aziraphale has definitely, on previous occasions, expressed flashes of superiority over crowley, but i don't think this is a situation where he does feel superior... not at all. instead, again, considering how he quickly cheers up his expression when he enters the shop, this to me is aziraphale trying to mask his own discomfort, panic, and worry. he's keeping this whole thing as light and airy as he possibly can.

we then move on to aziraphale telling crowley he has some "incredibly good news" to give him... which, okay, sure, it might be that aziraphale is anticipating it to be good news. but again, the expression outside the shop? if he was that confident that crowley would be jumping for joy at the merest suggestion of returning to heaven, the conflicted expressions of worry and trepidation would, presumably, not have happened. so, i once again can only take this line to be aziraphale trying to dress it up with excitement. and i say dress it up because... we've seen aziraphale beside himself with excitement, right? and this is not it. this (first two snips) is aziraphale being giddy with excitement, or at least a job well done, not the latter clip:

aziraphale is barely able to get the words out properly after this point, he's nigh incoherent, and his hand movements indicate he's practically frantic... someone who normally, even when nervous or uncomfortable, keeps his hands quite close to his body, clasped comfortingly in front of him or stiff at his sides. we then furthermore have what he seems to mouth in the midst of this flurry of movement and mumbling, which, yes, is speculation but i rather much stand by it so far... and as such, seems to match his expression outside of the bookshop of, 'what the fuck am i going to say'.

also worth noting, to his credit, that crowley is being remarkably patient throughout all of this - i think he potentially does recognise that something is amiss? the 'somethings wrong' voice? recognises that despite himself being interrupted from something really quite important, aziraphale is evidently... not himself.

what intrigues me however, before we get into the meat of aziraphale and metatron's conversation, is how aziraphale words this particular bit:

because aziraphale catches himself before he says something potentially rather offensive, and then turns it back on himself. for example: "i don't think he's as bad a fellow as he came across", or "-as we thought he was", compared to aziraphale then backtracking and owning that it was his fault, "i think i might have misjudged him!".

what does it matter if he calls out the metatron for having been an arse in s1? it was a perfectly fair assessment to make, by all accounts, and presumably one that he and crowley had a laugh/bitch over post-s1... why would he recount that particular line? it wouldn't change the sentiment, ultimately - that aziraphale is trying to convey to crowley that the metatron 'is actually kind of alright!' - and it's not like crowley would be offended either way... so, are we to assume that even if the metatron can't hear what he's saying (although i have further speculation on this too, by the by, but this is a little more tentative) aziraphale perhaps fears that he can? in much the same way that he only let his expression truly slip once his back was turned, out on the street?

but then we move onto the offer itself, and the conversation between him and the metatron. aziraphale starts getting into his stride, probably because now he's just simply recounting what actually happened, all supported by the flashbacks we get. aziraphale isn't having to lie, as far as we can tell - he's simply going over the conversation he had. let's break that down:

aziraphale initially seems quite relaxed to be sat opposite metatron, insomuch that he doesnt look overly tense. frankly, he just looks bored, wanting to get this over and done with, likely so he can head back to the bookshop and be left in peace. as he said before they left; he has made his position clear, he wants nothing to do with heaven (at least as it currently is), and this is just a courtesy, to hear out whatever the voice of god has to say. of course, metatron then blindsides aziraphale by saying that - of course - the only option to replace gabriel must be aziraphale.

what is noteworthy is how aziraphale says, "and i said... "me?!"... and he said-". because when we cut back to the flashback, aziraphale's expression has not changed at all. there's no excitement, but more just bafflement and shock... and not one that indicates he's in any way enthusiastic about the idea. the fact that aziraphale chooses to recount that particular 'me?!' the way he does to crowley suggests that he's, quite possibly, putting it on, playing the part, and deliberately overstating his initial reaction - almost like he's trying to hype crowley up in turn. furthermore - aside from all the handwaving and nervous huffs of laughter - aziraphale does not even blink throughout this whole spiel to crowley. just an observation.

metatron gives his bullshit rationalisation for choosing aziraphale - and i say bullshit because from their last interaction in s1, aziraphale arguably did not display much of the qualities that metatron purports he has... if any at all - and aziraphale visibly starts to subtly panic. there's the glance away, his shoulders stiffen, he swallows nervously, breathes heavily. when aziraphale does speak, it's immediately to declare that he doesn't want the position, doesn't want to go back to heaven full stop (very reminiscent of his reaction to the promotion offer in the cut 1800 scene), and gives the excuse of the coffee.

metatron then brings out Les Big Guns. before the metatron says anything else, and without so much as a hint from aziraphale, metatron oh so casually remarks that aziraphale would have the final say on who he works with. he already anticipates that aziraphale's hang-up about going back to heaven may not be in fact the coffee, and tbh may not in fact be anything to do with earth itself, but everything to do with crowley remaining on earth. crowley is however a demon, and in his current form would not be able to go to heaven (which in turn begs another observation - does metatron not know that crowley infiltrated heavily pretty easily earlier in the episode?... hmm).

as such, the obvious solution for the metatron is to drop the fact that he probably knows a lot more about aziraphale and crowley's historic dealings with each other than would otherwise be anticipated. he mentions that he has had the chance to peruse over... recordings? reports? photos? that show the span of aziraphale's relationship with crowley - and unspokenly suggests that he knows everything. and then he offers a very neat, tidy solution to that small 'hes a demon' snag. he tells aziraphale he would have the authority to restore crowley, so he could come with him.

aziraphale, whilst metatron is revealing the scope of his intelligence gathering, looks like he's about to burst into tears. to me? that is horror, and fear - like a frightened animal being suddenly backed into a corner. his eyes start darting everywhere, his face - especially his jaw - tenses, and he looks like he's about to leg it out of his chair at any given moment. and namely, once metatron tells him he could restore crowley to being an angel, we don't see aziraphale's resultant expression at all. it immediately cuts back to the bookshop.

why would aziraphale fear metatron knowing everything about him and crowley? this isn't clear. it may simply be residue fear, muscle memory, from years gone by where their association has had to exist in utmost secret. alternatively, it might be that aziraphale is not comfortable in the knowledge that not only does metatron want something from him (to return to heaven), but that metatron has very accurately landed on aziraphale's pressure point (crowley). this is what i mean when i say, as i have in previous posts, that i don't think there's a missing, overt threat from the metatron that we've not been shown, but that aziraphale feels threatened.

compare this to nearly every spy movie you've ever seen - you want someone to do something for you, but they're resistant? just casually drop that you know that their partner has just had a new haircut, or that their child looked happy going into school that morning, or that their parent is struggling to pay for their medical bills... it's sufficient information enough to instill a sense of peril without being an unclassy, hamfisted, overt threat.

my last thought on the flashbacks; as was said brilliantly in this post (@fearandhatred), i don't think the flashbacks were disingenuous, and i don't believe that there are gaps missing that will be revealed in s3. but i do think that there are some key things that aziraphale might not have actually told crowley in his recount of the conversation. crowley responds in his next line specifically to the offer of restoration... so, did aziraphale even tell him about the metatron knowing all about them? their "de facto partnership", their "previous exploits"? because personally, i don't think he did. once again - the narrative irony that we as the audience have the full story, but crowley potentially does not.

but anyway; back to the bookshop.

...okay, aziraphale. right. i mean, first of all, crowley is just as taken aback, shocked, and incredulous as aziraphale seems to have been during the flashbacks. but aziraphale? everything has slowed down, almost calmed, like the eye of the storm has passed over. he almost looks less manic, less (frankly) deranged, and seems to actually be settling in the fact that the offer itself might actually be a good thing - something that crowley might in fact want. it's still not quite right, he's still not quite acting in a way that makes me think aziraphale's being entirely forthcoming with crowley.

the way he says that crowley could "come back" is soft and gentle, as if he's granting the most amazing, positively astounding opportunity - that heaven is doing something that it has never (as far as we or aziraphale, presumably, is aware) done before, and welcoming crowley back... like it's equal parts forgiveness towards crowley for having done whatever he did (im deliberately trying to keep this concept very vague and objective), and apology to crowley for a punishment that far outweighed any possible 'crime' he could have committed... like heaven is attempting to make reparations for what they did to him in the fall.

putting this outside the main body because it's another slight tangent. we know that crowley being good, nice, and/or kind is not necessarily indicative that crowley should or ought to be an angel. there are shades of grey. however, i do think aziraphale... still has issues with that. still has issues with aligning what he thinks good is, how intrinsically important being good is to him, and then where crowley sits in the midst of all of it - almost like aziraphale accepts that he himself may be in the grey, accepts his shortcomings, but where crowley is concerned aziraphale readily glosses over a number of his... not-so-nice bits. this might stem from aziraphale believing that it's more palatable to love crowley if he believes him to essentially be an angel in all but name, but i don't think it's quite that. more that aziraphale maybe thinks that 'good' is the ideal to hold, that heaven is the place that was meant to be good, and that crowley himself is good... so... well, isn't it the logical conclusion that crowley would want to return to heaven?

so going back to this bit of the scene: i don't think aziraphale ever wanted crowley to revert back to factory settings, never even considered the notion, nor necessarily thought that crowley would be better as an angel... but instead perhaps that being an angel again is what crowley would want. that it would be nothing more, really, than a rubber stamp in his personnel file. i think aziraphale was simply remembering the angel that was joyful in creating, surrounded himself in the exaltation of imagining new and wonderful things, bringing them to life; why wouldn't, in its most basic essence, aziraphale want that for crowley again? for crowley to be back where - as far as aziraphale likely remembers - he was at his happiest? and if he has the power to give it, like the metatron said, isn't that the greatest gift aziraphale could ever bestow upon him?

if we accept, as the whole final fifteen scene is intimating pretty strongly thus far, that aziraphale is trying to keep his panic and fear about the whole situation under wraps from crowley, it simultaneously makes sense that he would offer this to crowley as if he's saying:

'here's a wonderful thing that im pretty certain you've always wanted; please, just this once, don't ask questions about anything else, please just concentrate on this, i can handle everything else. just please say yes to coming back with me, i need you to come back. you can be happy, and i can sort out heaven, so that one day we can just simply walk away and never have to look over our shoulders. i'm scared, but i don't really have a choice, and tbh im even more scared what might happen if i leave you behind.'

but as metatron, i think, clearly anticipates, and as i think aziraphale truthfully does too as he first heads into the bookshop, this was never going to be something that crowley would accept. it's not something crowley wants. crowley - for whatever reason (again, in the absence of knowing anything concrete about the fall, keeping this deliberately vague) - was rejected by heaven in the most literal sense possible. slapping him with an angel stamp and dressing him in a white suit means nothing of value to him, and is the furthest from what he wants; in fact, actually, if anything, it's the biggest insult he could be afforded. because what has suddenly made him redeemable, palatable, 'forgiveable', in the eyes of heaven? nothing; just that he's a pawn in whatever bargain the metatron is trying to strike with aziraphale... and from crowley's pov, aziraphale has agreed to using him as a game piece. it doesn't confer value onto crowley, if anything it reduces it; in this equation, even if he were to accept the offer, he'd essentially be nothing more than a negotiated benefit for aziraphale to take the job.

(and that's all assuming that restoration would in fact mean crowley gets to continue being him, albeit in fancy white clothes - when there's the very real possibility that, if restoration as a concept even exists at all, heaven would just wipe him and set him off from ground zero all over again. aziraphale seems to have taken the metatron's word for it; that restoration even exists, that aziraphale would have the power to do it, and that it would mean he gets to keep crowley exactly as he is).

at which point... crowley knows that aziraphale didn't turn down the offer in the metaphorical room - "and you told him just where he could stick it, then?"... he's hopeful, possibly, but his expression suggests that he fully anticipates that aziraphale has bought into the crock of shit that metatron has spun him. that aziraphale took the job on the provision that crowley could join him, which crowley points out to be beneath the both of them, "oh, we're better than that- you're better than that, angel!".

aziraphale however, as explained above, sees it as being the best, safest, most opportune option for them both to take; "not at all", said with the tone of surprise that it is, suggests that aziraphale didn't ever consider the possibility of saying no, maybe because he feels that he can't, and never thought that crowley would say no, either. along with the surprise tone however, he says it with a very tense expression - the smile has frozen, and his tense are gritted. it might be that he genuinely thought that crowley would say yes, or because - again, if he's in fear of being overheard - he's worried about the implications of what crowley has just said.

crowley goes on to rant that he turned down hell when beelzebub made a very similar offer to crowley in ep1 (which, by the by, he... didn't. for whatever reason, crowley did not say no, nor any variant of a refusal, to beelzebub), and aziraphale remarks that that's a given, as "you're the bad guys".

now... i wince at this particular line every time i watch the final fifteen, as im sure everyone else does, but i don't think it's - at all - meant in the way that crowley likely receives it. certainly not in the way that the majority of the audience seems to have received it.

im not set to diminish or invalidate, on crowley's part, how it must feel to hear aziraphale still consider him a 'bad guy', simply because he's a demon. but from aziraphale's perspective, crowley is a demon, and demons are of hell. hell are not the good guys, as a collective - as has been proven time and time again - and, well, if heaven are meant to be the good guys, hell are by process of elimination the bad guys. once again, aziraphale arrives a rather binary conclusion of good vs. evil.

but equally consider that this is also the aziraphale that regularly compliments crowley on his niceness and his good deeds. that same aziraphale does not think of crowley as 'a bad guy'. he is blunt that crowley is of hell, who are the collective bad guys, because hell is the bad side to the heaven that was meant to be the good side. and as said above - crowley is good! he's a good person! he might be a demon, of hell, but he belongs on the side of good! which leads to this lovely little number:

throughout this whole part of their discussion, aziraphale has presented as more and more sure, less panicky and nervous - because i think this is something that he absolutely believes. he might have initially not wanted anything to do with heaven, but now? with the possibility that crowley could join him? suddenly then it's viable... lucrative, even - that he could fix heaven, that crowley could help him do it, they'd be together, and they'd get their happy, safe ending. his expression on "good" would suggest his confusion that crowley doesn't appear to share the same opinion - sure, heaven is shit now, but it was always meant to be good, right?* doesn't crowley see that?

crowley, however, justifiably illustrates that, the way he sees it (and has been demonstrated by the narrative), both sides are as flawed and redundant as each other; aziraphale can be as optimistic as he likes that heaven is redeemable, is fixable, but all crowley can see is that both are so inherently awful, so rotten to the very foundation, that there is no saving them... heaven least of all, for being the side that purports itself to be good. hell, at least, is aware of its very nature; heaven is insidious, and doesn't even have the good grace to acknowledge it, instead chalking it up to being god's will, and therefore whatever they do must be good.

and with that, i think crowley simultaneously starts to really panic - knowing that he's losing aziraphale - and yet hopes against all hope that he's gotten through to him, changed his mind, and begins pleading with him to tell him the exact thing he wants to hear; 'this is a bad idea, please don't do this, please-'

aziraphale is visibly struggling to even collect his thoughts, to even find the words to summarise why he's going to do this. simultaneously, aziraphale is dumbfounded. i think part of that is because he recognises the truth in what crowley is saying, but i also think that he's now in a position where his plan to get crowley to come with him has failed, and he's at a loss for what to do - what to say - next. he looks from crowley, looks out the window, his mouth is working to try and say something, even looks down at his feet, before coming up with the best way he can to explain why he's doing this. "if im in charge... i can make a difference."

*because once again (i'll die on this hill), i don't think aziraphale thinks that heaven as it currently is, is something that is good, light, or truth... but that heaven's intended purpose was to be those things, and is what heaven in essence stands for... irrespective of whoever is in charge. aziraphale has no allegiance to heaven as it currently is. michael, uriel, sandalphon, gabriel when he was supreme archangel - all of them have corrupted heaven to be something that it was never meant to be. but aziraphale has to believe that heaven itself is redeemable, has to believe that there is something salvageable; if it weren't, does that mean that aziraphale in turn is not either of those things too? does that mean that aziraphale is not good? heaven is capable of great things, that could benefit everyone involved; so couldn't aziraphale, from all of the experience he's gained, do something to make heaven exactly that?

it doesn't mean that aziraphale is any more correct for this more nuanced assumption, but i think it poses there is a very fine line in aziraphale's thinking. to my mind, aziraphale is not backtracking on the entirety of what he's learnt since the beginning, he's not suddenly heaven's man again - but instead is recognising that heaven is broken as it currently is... and that he could potentially fix it. if anything, that recognition that what he thought was faultless actually needs fixing, and that he may be able to do it, because it's the right thing to do... is exactly the character development i was expecting? an angel who has himself been rejected time and time again for being who he is, without even the finality of falling, could actually be the key to making heaven something worthy of the name.

he has to take that opportunity, to be that change, but he doesn't want to leave crowley to do so. not only because, of course, he simply loves crowley and wants both, but if he does leave crowley, what could happen to crowley without aziraphale being in a position to protect him? what, for me, it all boils down to is that aziraphale thinks going to heaven is the right thing to do, but only entertained it seriously when a) crowley's name, and their relationship, was casually mentioned in a way that felt like metatron would use it as leverage, and b) crowley could potentially come with him. ultimately, the fact remains that crowley more important to him than heaven is.

let's return to the specific wording of 'make a difference'. it's... fairly neutral, right? make a difference for whom? what kind of difference? the difference that metatron was talking about, or the difference that, in the most idealistic scenario possible, aziraphale and crowley both would probably want to happen? it's carefully worded - and coupled with eeeeverything that i've said about how aziraphale acts with the metatron, how he was hiding his expression as he entered the shop, and then how aziraphale seems to backtrack on bitch-talking the metatron... look, i don't necessarily buy that aziraphale is trying to speak in a riddle or code that he knows crowley would understand, but i do wonder if he's now hoping that crowley will read between the lines. he can't outright tell crowley his suspicions, and was possibly trying to get crowley to come with him in a way that wouldn't alert crowley to anything amiss whatsoever... but now? now that crowley is resisting? he has to edge slightly closer towards transparency.

in the hypothetical scenario that aziraphale is fearful that they may be overheard, or observed, aziraphale has to be careful. he has to word whatever he says in such a way that he appears to be heaven's man, that he genuinely wants to take the opportunity to run heaven and the 'enormous projects' that are in planning, in a way that doesn't disclose to the metatron that aziraphale is in any way suspicious of him. to crowley, however, he has to convey that he isn't heaven's man, that he wants to change things that would mean that it be for the better, and do all of that whilst not alerting crowley that there may be danger. 'make a difference' suddenly has a double-meaning, because for whose benefit does aziraphale truly want to change things?

crowley then, bless his heart, bravely launches into his confession that he tried to start at the beginning, and i think he does so in an effort to be completely transparent on why he needs aziraphale to stay - an effort to convince him to remain with crowley for no other reason than that he wants to be with him... and now? now he's not even sure it'll work. he's tried demonstrating where heaven isn't worth the effort, to no avail, so now he's going for full vulnerability mode. honestly, what a trooper, he was so so brave

aziraphale throughout the confession is practically motionless. the manic energy has disappeared, and from the subtle flickers in his expression, i think he saw this coming - saw it coming from the moment that he saw crowley offer up alpha centauri to gabriel and beelzebub, and saw nina and maggie very surreptitiously leave the bookshop. i think to some degree, aziraphale knew at least the nature of what crowley was going to say, and as a result, he gets very nervous:

at the sheer mention of "group", aziraphale pointedly (to me, anyway) looks out of the window. generally, he looks shifty - avoiding eye contact, eyes flickering, heavy breathing - but it's so deliberate that he looks out of the window where, we can surmise, is the general environs of where the metatron is still waiting. again - the metatron saying "de facto partnership", and all of his allusions to knowing the true nature and extent of aziraphale's association with crowley, seems all the more sinister if this line - "a team- a group!" - is specifically when aziraphale's eyes betray his concern. i don't think he's necessarily scared that the metatron will overhear this bit, because ultimately the metatron has intimated that he already knows this, but crowley is, potentially, and very much unknowingly, placing them in even more danger by vocalising the exact nature of what he and aziraphale feel for each other.

i also want to remark on aziraphale's look of confusion when crowley says, "spent our existence pretending that we aren't". ive had many a thought on why aziraphale would look so perplexed, and only one kind of makes sense to me - that actually, within the last few years, aziraphale... wasn't pretending at all. crowley told him that they were on their own side in tadfield, something that may have taken a while, but ultimately aziraphale in the "so did i" demonstrates that he was fully on board with, and he's now spent a good portion of s2 trying to make 'their side' all the more meaningful... crowley was no longer going too fast for him, but instead he was trying to show crowley that he had caught up - felt free enough to match his speed.

that, for me, would make sense with crowley's next line, where he himself clarifies that actually, no - the last couple of years they weren't pretending like they were before. something changed after armageddon, and that was that they both were removed enough from heaven and hell that they could finally explore what 'us' might mean for them. crowley is consistently taken aback by what aziraphale intended to be overtures of closeness and adoration - the frequent touching, the bentley, the ball - because aziraphale was trying to demonstrate it with actions, rather than words. crowley previously showed aziraphale how he felt about him - the rescues, the dinners, the books - and aziraphale was trying to speak to him in a language that he thought crowley would understand.

but crowley then plays the card that he played before, and that even under better circumstances aziraphale would never accept; "if gabriel and beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can!". aziraphale didn't accept it - however much he might have selfishly, privately wanted to - in s1 under threat of armageddon, and it's certainly not an option now when the metatron is literally outside the door. again, if we accept that aziraphale has read the conversation he had with the metatron as some kind of subtle threat, legging it is absolutely not an option he can take. on one hand, he might not want to; aziraphale typically chooses, when his back is against the wall, to fight his way out, to push back. on the other... it's the same as the bandstand; where could they possibly go where heaven won't find them? if they even got that far, how long would they have to keep running? they would constantly have to look over their shoulders, and exist together as if it's something that should be hidden out of fear, and guilt, and shame.

it then makes sense that aziraphale suddenly finds movement as crowley in turn grows more frantic in them being "an 'us'!"; aziraphale starts quickly shaking his head, tearing up, at what crowley is saying. crowley tries stoicly to cajole aziraphale into agreeing, because surely this time he will. aziraphale however strides right up to him, and counters again that he and crowley can be together, can be an 'us', but why can't it be in heaven? neither of them are denying what they want from the other. aziraphale then goes on to lay out exactly how it could work, that he could "run it, [crowley'll] be [his] second-in-command".

i know that a lot of people take issue with this line, because it suggests that aziraphale is claiming superiority, and relegating crowley to the oh-so-lowly deputy position... but tbh, i just can't see it like that. i have no doubt that crowley might see it like that (re: what i said above about crowley potentially seeing the restoration as an insult, because it's only offered not in recognition of crowley himself, but instead as a consolatory benefit of aziraphale taking the offer) but i just simply cannot fathom that aziraphale would ever mean it like that. because look - they haven't even gotten out the door, and already aziraphale has it all planned out. he'd bypass the other archangels not only to take the top position himself, at the metatron's behest, but he'd immediately use that power to install crowley right by his side. he's not offering crowley to just return to his lab/office cubicle as an angel, and once-in-a-blue-moon see aziraphale when he maybe had the time; he's already scheming to give crowley one of the most powerful positions he possibly can. he wants to place crowley in a position not only where aziraphale can always protect him, but it also shows that he trusts crowley more implicitly than any other being, and is frankly offering to fix heaven to be one that crowley would want to see. that crowley could have direct input in building. one that is good enough to have him.

aziraphale solidifies this with "we can make a difference". note the pronoun shift from before? and how he half-whispers it to crowley, fervent and desperate for crowley to see exactly what they could do together? notice how aziraphale isn't scanning around him at the windows anymore? to me, this is the real motivation, right here. metatron is giving both of them an opportunity for them to play their own game; aziraphale is prepared to take it, but wants crowley by side - as a team - when he does... why wouldn't crowley?

okay im going to cheat here slightly and direct you to this, because my thoughts on this are pretty much still the same. it's apt that this is the nail in the coffin as far as this conversation goes, because for me it's the main (only?) instance in which the two of them are both entirely candid in what they're saying, hoping the other understands, and yet the two meanings miss each other completely. everything else has been a conflict in beliefs or ideals, but this? this is The miscommunication.

crowley is saying: 'this bookshop means so much to you, and it means so much to me too. you even said it was ours, not just yours; it represents where we both felt most safe, where we could be entirely ourselves and not fear or worry about anything going on outside it. you gave me a home in this place, with you - you can't just leave it like it's nothing, you can't just leave 'us' like it's nothing, you can't just leave me like im nothing.'

aziraphale is saying: 'this bookshop means so much to me, it's true, but in a thousand years - even maybe a hundred years - it will be little more than rubble. it represents what i used to treasure more than anything, because it was what i took pleasure in, and i could be myself. it was ours, but really all it is, is little more than paper, glass, and brick. you are my home, and you are more important than a building with windows and a creaky front door. being together, being safe, is all i want, and is all that matters.'

all of that is summed up nicely in crowley just... letting all the fight drain out of his body. tilts his head back, in that famous nod of, 'oh right okay, i see what you're saying'. wills the tears not to fall; to him, aziraphale has just rejected everything that crowley thought aziraphale held dear - including himself. nothing lasts forever, including them... when what aziraphale is saying is that nothing lasts forever, but they could.

crowley puts his shield back on, the sunglasses back in their usual place. aziraphale sees him do so, and has the faintest, hopeful smile on his face; because he thinks that crowley has finally gotten what aziraphale was trying to convey to him - and so, now, they're going to leave the shop together, go to heaven together, and work together to fix heaven into what it always should have been... and along the way, grant them the freedom to do whatever the hell they want to do, and do it in peace. crowley however shatters that; he steps out from around aziraphale, and wishes him luck... and aziraphale realises that they are not in fact on the same page, and actually now whatever was holding on by a thread might have finally snapped.

okay look if you've made it this far - first of all how and why, you madman, this was stupidly long and convoluted... but also many kisses of gratitude unto you for sticking it out this long. i'm planning (if the dopamine gods remain with me) on doing a part 2 where i look at the last bit of the domestic, and the kiss, again - to see what i unearth there too, but thoughts so far:

aziraphale feels under threat from the metatron, and has to prioritise acquiescing to his request on pain of [redacted]

but he also knows that if the metatron knows that crowley is his pressure point, his only option is to try to a) convince the metatron that he (aziraphale) is completely on board, and docile, and b) convince crowley to come back with him, not only for his safety but also so they can be together, and because actually, to aziraphale's mind, the offer is a good thing, possibly something crowley has always secretly wanted, and crowley deserves it

alongside feeling threatened, aziraphale is wary that the metatron may be able to observe/hear their conversation. he therefore cannot say anything that would antagonise the metatron, cannot say anything that would suggest that aziraphale knows that the metatron is a Big Bad, and cannot let crowley in on the truth because crowley would question it too hard and endanger them both

aziraphale knows that crowley is about to confess his feelings, or something of a similar sentiment. aziraphale wants to hear it, but only when he can be sure that crowley will come back to heaven with him, where he can be safe in a position of power, right by aziraphale's side

when crowley begins to resist the idea, and battles back with a plan of this own for them to be together, aziraphale a) has to impress upon him that going back to heaven, and potentially fixing it in their image (lmao god complex much, aziraphale?) is the right thing to do, especially if they are to have any kind of future together, and b) has to do so, again, in a way that won't alert crowley that something more nefarious might be going on. regardless, they both operate on the understanding that they want to be together

however. the one major miscommunication in the entire part of the first sequence is "nothing lasts forever" - this particular part is practically the repeat of the different exactlies from episode 1

ok bye

#good omens #feral domestic/final fifteen meta #metatron spec #aziraphale meta

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bluegekk0 · 5 months

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Aware that Grimm knows Zote's fears, and in turn he would also know some of his past. Would the others know that something went on with Zote in his past? If so, then when's the click. Would there be a phrase that he said or a moment he reacted where they are like: "yep, he got baggage like everyone else, and like everyone else it's painful to unpack."

Yeah Grimm would definitely have a bit of an idea of what Zote is hiding, though he wouldn't share it with others the moment he found out. He's not the type to spill secrets, same way he always keeps his promises - so any knowledge that can be considered a personal secret he will keep to himself. Of course, if someone has wronged him, he may break the rule to get back at them, especially if their secrets would get them in trouble, though it's a very rare scenario. Usually he finds a way to get revenge that doesn't break that rule (violence or intimidation, more often than anything).

So in Zote's case, he would simply keep it to himself. Which means the others wouldn't know until Zote slipped and accidentally spilled his secrets. And it did happen on a few occasions, enough for them to take notice and figure out he's just as broken and lost as they are.

The biggest hint: he would get noticeably angrier and nervous whenever asked about his family or where he's from. Of course he would make up an answer that has nothing to do with reality, but if you watched his expression and body language closely you'd definitely get a hint that something happened that he doesn't want to talk about. To a stranger it's easy to miss, but as the family spent more time around him, they started to notice.

In general he reacts that way when asked about more personal details about his life. Perhaps Grimm would be the one asking him those questions, not out of malice but to help others figure it out without directly telling them. You could say it's intrusive and mean, but he wouldn't do it if he didn't think it would help. And help it did, knowing that Zote wasn't just a jerk for the sake of it had a huge impact on how the others saw him. They still don't know the full extent of what's haunting him, but they can relate to the fact that he's still struggling with unprocessed trauma. No better thing to bring them together.

Over time I do think more details about his past would become clear. Not all of them, of course, but some. For example, I think FPK would eventually learn that Zote was rejected by his birth family, and would especially relate to it (since, to this day, he believes his mother abandoned him for his weakness, he doesn't realize that was just what wyrms do. Not that it would help much, as he's still convinced that he wasn't good enough, she always made it clear to him and he took it to heart). So while he would respect Zote's wish not to talk about it, he would have a lot of sympathy for him, which definitely impacted their interactions. And Hornet especially would relate to Zote's bitterness towards the world. In her case, it manifested in built up anger and unwillingness to open up, while Zote dealt with it by creating and believing in a reality he would much rather live in, where he's stronger and smarter than his bullies. Even if they had different coping mechanisms, their struggle was rooted in feeling like the world is unfair and cruel, so there is some understanding between them, even if they never really talk about it.

So a lot of the signs from him were on the subtle side, but through their own experiences and the fact that they got to spend more time with him, the family members were able to pick up on them over time. They all struggle with their traumas and desperately need therapy, but there's no other group of bugs in all of Hallownest that would understand him as well as they did. So I think it makes sense that they eventually became a found family to him.

#ask stuff #feral pk au #save #zote #grimm #fpk #hornet

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knight-says-rollout · 1 year

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Differences between Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp

(Just assorted hcs, mostly visual, I refuse to imagine them just as recolors of eachother.)

Going in order from youngest to oldest

Skywarp

Probably isn’t too aerodynamic compared to the other two

He mostly relies on teleporting so there isn’t much need for the ability to achieve super high speed or go super fast for a long time

He can keep up with formation barely, he wants to do better but isn’t gonna be goin off on his own at sonic speed like TC

Makes him softer for cuddles tho, a lot less hard angles

He’s second tallest

Whenever he’s being a little shit his wing gesturing gets Very dramatic

Starscream

Shortest, it’s not by Much but he’s shorter than Skywarp

It’s enough of a difference for the other two to decide he is Simply Tiny

Sharpest (claws, fangs, insults-)

Constant overdramatic wing gesticulation

He’s the shiniest

He tends to use body language n posture to get people to do what he wants

Meaning if someone’s threatening him he puts his wings down and makes himself small. Bc hes just a little guyy you wouldn’t hurt a tiny little guy it’s his birthday you won’t hurt a tiny little birthday boy on his birthday

In contrast to when he’s the one who’s angry, where he puffs himself up

Thundercracker

Tallest, by a decent amount

He’s Big

Which makes sense considering he’s built not just to go at sonic speeds but to Withstand them

He mostly uses these facts to break up fights, specifically ones Starscream gets into

Blunter fingertips than the other two, not much in the way of claws

The least expressive with his wings

Unless he’s telling a story

Story teller mode flips a switch somewhere in there and he goes all out to convey everything as efficiently as possible, even if he doesn’t really seem to notice he’s doing it

#G1 #transformers #skywarp #starscream #thundercracker #headcanons

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bogkeep · 3 months

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look, the kingkiller chronicle (the name of the wind + a wise man's fear, by patrick rothfuss) is not a perfect series or anything, i love it a lot but i have Opinions - but. it IS one of those book series that's lodged itself very deeply into my brain for better and for worse. it lives there now, along with animorphs (a series i haven't read since i was a preteen) and some other friends. you know how it is!!

anyway every now i think about a Thing from kkc and it's like. i need to talk about this. i don't know who to talk about this to. hence: my blog. and usually the thing i need to talk about is the adem. for those who haven't read kkc, the adem is one of the people's in this fantasy setting. their country and culture is very isolationist, their only export are mercenaries (Very Good Mercenaries Who Know Martial Art Secrets), they have a very different culture than the rest of the continent and therefore come across as very strange and mysterious. from a worldbuilding perpective, i think the adem are super cool. i love that rothfuss really leaned into developing a very different culture, even if there's... Some Things That Do Not Scan.

in the story, we find out that their culture is matriarchal, and they consider their women to be better fighters than their men. in fact, we find out they regard men as lesser because they don't realize that men contribute to uh, the creation of children. their culture is very big on casual sex and i don't think they do marriages or pairings like that at all, so their belief is that women Just Get Pregnant Sometimes! which is a fresh and fascinating take on the fantasy trope of "hmm how would a matriarchal society work" but ALSO. also. this would not happen. this could not happen in a world where queer people exist. there are canonically gay and bi people in these books. obviously i was reading this as a baby ace and was like HMMMMMMMM DOUBT. i cannot suspend my disbelief enough to think that every single woman in ademre would want to have (cisheterosexual) intercourse frequently enough for this to be a believable assumption, especially if there's no societal pressure to do it for reproduction!!! IT SIMPLY DOES NOT SCAN.

like, it's not that i'm a stranger to fiction ignoring the fact that Maybe Not Everyone In The World Wants Sex, that's kind of the eternal background noise of 95% of all media. i think maybe this one instance drives me nuts because from an aro perspective, i LOVE some funky fresh Alternative Family Structure worldbuilding and separating sex from romance. but then the sex thing. this whole thing is like.... an aro W but an ace L. it made it so far and then fell flat on its face. screams!!!!

THIS WASN'T EVEN THE THING I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THOUGH. i just can't bring up the adem without talking about What The Fuck Was Up With That. the other very cool part of worldbuilding is how the adem express themselves - they keep their faces blank, but express emotions through hand gestures. and today................... i finally made the connection between This and Autism. I SHOULD'VE MADE IT SOONER. i've been recently coming to realise i don't really watch people's body language or expressions very closely irl - i don't know if it's because i'm bad at reading it, or if i just live in scandinavia and i think we're not so big on body language/eye contact over here, so there's not much information for me to extract? a lot of people tell me that they communicate a lot better when meeting people in person, and i kind of, can not relate to this very much? i can not think of anything i get from meeting people in person that i can't get over text except the speed of conversation. like, sure, there's Tone of Voice but i don't always find it the most reliable piece of information, either. in fact text makes it easier to parse the words and gives me the time and space to reply appropriately. THIS IS PROBABLY A ME THING. I MAY BE MORE AUTISTIC THEN I THOUGHT. welcome to my favourite game of "is it the autism or is it scandinavia"

BUT. i gesture with my hands A Lot. many people have pointed this out to me. i have no idea how expressive i am with my face, but i'm Very expressive with my hands!!! i haven't really thought about this until recently and that's when. the memory of the adem struck again. THEIR NEUTRAL FACES AND THEIR EXPRESSIVE GESTURES..................... NO EYE CONTACT, WATCH THE HANDS....................................... what a fantastic concept. i would adopt this if i could. it does make me wonder though, would it be easier or harder to be autistic in a culture like that? you would still need to learn hand expressions and all the subtle social rules... but it seems more accessible to me, somehow.

anyway that was tonight's KKC thought. it was autism

#haiz reads things #not something i've read in a while but im having THOUGHTS #anyway i figured out how to post this pot on this very functional website #made a draft and copypasted each parapraph in one at a time and saved inbetween

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findthebae · 2 years

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Hey there! I'm a...very canon divergent Stanley from the Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe. For everyone's sake, PLEASE interact if you are 18 years or older. My timeline/canon has some NSFW memories tied to it. Again: DO NOT REACH OUT TO ME IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

My memories/details I recall are as follows:

▪︎ I had dark brown, almost black hair and brown eyes. My body had freckles that were more or less spread out. When it came to following the Narrator's instructions, I did so for the most part though would drift off to other things after getting distracted. I knew for a fact I had ADHD and maybe echolalia, specifically delayed echolalia. I'd repeat sounds or phrases at some point later on without realizing/meaning to.

▪︎ That being said, once I initially began hearing the Narrator, I was mute. Well–I was a selective mute beforehand but was rendered fully mute when the game itself started. I was still fairly emotive/expressive and would use my body language or pads of paper to communicate.

▪︎ This is where things really do diverge from the game canon. I recalled going through a door in the "shrine" room but once I stepped through it, I couldn't hear the Narrator anymore? I was physically back to a time where things were "normal" (ie. coworkers were still around and it was as if the game never happened). I still remembered trying to go for most of the endings with the Narrator, even revisiting some of the ones I enjoyed on several occasions.

▪︎ It must've been almost a year later when I heard a knock on the door. (NOTE: I never had a wife. There had been a woman I was seeing back then but things simply didn't work out.) When I answered it, an older man with brown hair that had grey/white streaks and rectangular glasses seemingly collapsed in my arms out of exhaustion. It was when I dragged him to my couch that I knew it must've been the Narrator. It was a gut feeling. Plus, he was wearing a dark grey suit with yellow suspenders and a matching tie. He woke up a bit later and obvious screaming ensued.

▪︎ What he told me was that I just poofed into thin air after entering the room. He had panicked and did everything he could to try and figure out where I went. The Narrator eventually did find where I ended up and instinctively went after me. He always had something akin to a physical body though during the game itself, chose to stay in his own separate office watching everything play out.

▪︎ I of course had him stay with me considering he had nowhere else to go. We would go on to explore the relationship we had developed over time. It was something special for the both of us, having that ability to look at each other. To touch each other. I loved him and he loved me.

If it's not obvious by now, I am looking for my Narrator! Please contact me/show you're interested in chatting by DMing me on Tumblr/Discord (@/viridianartist_#8372) or outright commenting/reblogging this? I have so much I want to say.

! ! !

#canon calls #the stanley parable kin #the stanley parable ultra deluxe kin

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average-guy-reviews · 1 year

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What's Love Got To Do With It? (2023)

"Zoe decides to film her neighbour's journey from London to Lahore, where he is to marry the woman of his parents' choice. Zoe experiences a different approach to finding love."

This is a film with an ending I predicted from the moment I saw the trailer for the first time, as I'm sure did many, many, people. Often an ending as obvious as this one can ruin the ability to be enveloped by the story, but not this time. This is a film that is far less about the outcome than it is about the journey to that outcome. Knowing where you are going doesn't always mean you know exactly how you're going to get there.

Throughout this movie the main characters, Lily James as Zoe and Shazad Latif as Kazim, face their fair share of twists and turns and, while Kazim's path appears smoother than Zoe's, they both experience a solid amount of personal growth...right up to the inevitable final moment.

Shazad's Kazim is an upstanding member of society, an oncology doctor that has to hide the fact he smokes and drinks from his Muslim family. Shazad turns in an admirable performance of a man taking a step in a direction he, at first, isn't fully sure about. He gives Kazim an air of assurance that makes you want to trust him, yet know for sure that he is genuine. Watching Shazad navigate Kazim through the cultural milestones on his journey was certainly an experience I am looking forward to watching again.

Lily James, as Zoe, is an award winning documentary film-maker and an archetypal modern single woman. She is living her life how she wants and James rides the ups and downs of Zoe's life smoothly, despite the bumps in her road. James' body language and facial expressions, while filming Kazim on his journey to an assisted marriage, reveal so much about who she is and how she legitimately feels, and it takes a performer of great skill to really pull that off as well as she does. I've been a fan of hers for many years, and this has only solidified that.

Shabana Azmi and Emma Thompson, the mothers of the two main characters, are both utterly delightful. Their interactions and clear friendship are really on point. Despite living next door to each other they live, as Kazim says to Zoe, on different continents, and yet they seem almost as close as sisters. I have always loved Emma, but as far as I know this is my first experience of Shabana on the big screen, and I sincerely hope it's not my last.

One thing that always fascinates me is the experience of seeing other cultures represented in film. To be able to view cultures that I am not a part of is a privilege that I do not take for granted, and the director, Shekhar Kapur, gave me so much to appreciate in this film. The detail of the costumes and the vibrancy, and joy, of the ceremony and party in Lahore is simply outstanding, and I am grateful that it was shown with as much love and respect as it was.

My only gripe, and in the overall scheme of the movie it is minor, is with some of the choices of angles for some of the shots. In just a few scenes the camera was angled so that it looked as if the screen itself was tipping forward. It doesn't take away from the story at all but, and I'm not sure why, it made me feel a little nauseated in those moments. It's a real shame as well because other than that, and as romcoms go, this is a really solid movie.

Overall I really enjoyed this film. I walked in firmly knowing how it was going to end, and I was swept up on a journey to the finale. Is it the best romcom ever? There is a very saturated market, with some truly awesome films, so I have to say no. Is it a film I'm legitimately considering adding to my bluray collection? Absolutely. It's getting a 7.5/10, that would have been an 8 except for that camera angle thing. I'd recommend to most, but if romcoms are your thing, then definitely give it a go.

#romcom #assisted marriage #weddings #documentaries #Muslim #religion #dating #family #comedy #romance #movies #reviews #average guy reviews

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kincalling · 2 years

Note

My memories/details I recall are as follows:

🧋

#stanley kin #the stanley parable kin #canon calls

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muyuuoffline · 2 years

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Could you do 21 and 28 for Tsukasa and Rui please?

[21] & [28] with Tenma Tsukasa /

Kamishiro Rui

21. ♥ What was the most romantic time they had with their partner?

Tenma Tsukasa

Tsukasa's newfound narcissism sometimes finds him a bit of trouble. as example of the.. little situation he and his members from WonderlandsxShowtime had back then, with Nene and Rui, and all.. this distress still flashes back in his mind at times despite everything that has happened. there would be moments where this anguish became problematic, especially when things didn't go very well (Dance practices, studying..) and he would be fault-finding to himself. but there was someone who always stayed by his side whenever this agony came, and that was you.

As he rambled on and on about his issues, you would always listen for hours, staying close next to him. It wasn't precisely 'romantic', but more comforting and welcoming. he feels very thankful that you had a wide sense of patience, as he worries his complications might cause you troubles, as well. You simply stayed quiet and listened, never stoping him. and he was very blessed and happy to have such an understanding partner, oathing to himself that he would become much more positive from now on, step by step.

Kamishiro Rui

Rui can be very intimate when it comes to his (s/o). he absolutely loves your flustered expression, his smile always widening at your cute little reactions. whether it would be surprising you by hugging you from behind, getting close to your face in sudden just to make you go red, or simply just teasing you. he also likes the fact that you don't try to deny that you enjoy his odd ways of showing affection to you, and he considers pretty much every moment with you fonding. so there isn't just particularly 'one' prominence that could be deemed the most romantic, since this is Rui we're talking about.

28. ♥ Do they understand their partners/person they are courting’s feelings without them having to say anything?

Tenma Tsukasa

Tsukasa is a bit naive when it comes to things like this. he admits to himself that he sucks at reading others's emotions, and how 'the way their eyes glint showcases what their intention was'. he wasn't going to bribe at the fact that he was too focused on showing himself off back then, feeling ashamed whenever someone mentions this to him. he feels baffled that he has no clue about his (s/o)'s feelings, especially when they are good at hiding it. things would be easier if you would praise and compliment him that he was doing great at courting you, but if things were the opposite and that you were the type to not reveal how you feel, then I would imagine him having a hard time.

Kamishiro Rui

For some reason or another, yes.

It wasn’t plainly because he's had various encounters with different people, but..

He feels hunches whenever you enjoy a specific thing he does; he wasn't particularly the type to court someone with flowers, chocolates, gifts, love letters and all those trinkets, but he was more on wooing you his own way. explaining would be complicated since his measures can be somewhat extreme, but he would somehow be able to read body language very well.

#tsukasa tenma x reader #tenma tsukasa #tsukasa tenma #imagines #project sekai colorful stage #project sekai #court list #court meme #relationship & courting antics asks.#rui kamishiro x reader #kamishiro rui #kamishiro rui x reader #rui kamishiro #wonderlands x showtime #pjsekai #headcanons

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midnightmusings-et-moi · 3 years

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First time with all 3 marauders? Just pure wholesome smut

NSFW

a/n: I got kinda excited and wrote a kinda long piece so I’ll consider this a fic rather than a blurb ; regardless I hope you like it!

You were laying back on the scarlet, plush bed, heart racing and skin flushed as you stared at the ceiling in anticipation. This was the first time you’d done anything remotely sexual , let alone the fact that it was with all three of your boyfriends — not a usual situation in the normal world so you had no clue what to expect.

“Darling, eyes on me” you heard Remus’ voice sound out as he lightly pushed your chin down to look at him, “Need to make sure you’re okay.” James was sitting at the end of the bed drawing soothing circles into your calf and Sirius was beside you leaning against the headboard, your right hand in his.

All three boys were clad in solely their sweatpants and you only in your panties. “Are you completely sure, pup?” Sirius said, his eyes searching for any hesitation and within his dark irises you saw a fire of lust igniting. You nodded slowly, groaning desperately at the new side to Sirius as you pushed yourself up on your elbows to steal a kiss from the raven haired boy.

He dodged your lips, “use your words” he said sternly restraining your wrists and pinning you down on the bed. The way his eyes kept darting from your lips, to your bare breasts and back to your lips made arousal pool between your legs, but you couldn’t help but whine at the bruising grip he had on your wrists.

“Uh uh, pads, be nice it’s her first time” Remus reprimanded, causing Sirius to loosen his grip and meet your lips with a sweet kiss. You tasted fire whisky in his mouth and a hint of liquorice wands as he pushed his tongue to dance against yours. He didn’t need words to prove just how much he loved you and in that moment you knew you were making the right decision ; giving yourself to the three boys that meant more to you than the entire world.

You felt a pair of lips pepper kissed on your neck and as you brought your hand up to tangle in his hair, you recognized the soft brown locks of James. He sucked on the spot where your neck met your shoulder, eliciting a moan from you, which Sirius swallowed. The two boys kissed and worshipped every inch of you as the lycanthrope stroked your messy hair and focused on your body language making sure you weren’t too over whelmed.

“Please I need more…please” your voice was low and shy ; you had never voiced out your carnal needs before and even hinting at what you wanted rouged your cheeks. The three boys chuckled at your embarrassed state. “Aww princess don’t be shy, how are we supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell us” the bespectacled boy remarked sweetly rubbing his thumb on your heated cheek.

“I mean honestly prongs, the way she’s soaking through her underwear makes it pretty obvious” Sirius said with a hint of mockery, winking at you. You rolled your head into the pillow, going tomato red. “I was only joking, pup, in fact you look absolutely marvellous splayed out on this bed. We can’t wait to treat you like the princess you are and make you feel good. Tonight is about you.”

Your heart warmed at his words and emboldened you enough to meet his eyes and place a kiss on his cheek. “I’m ready” you simply stated taking a deep breath and nodding at the boys. The sandy haired boy reached down to place kisses on your forehead, rubbing your sides up and down to ease you up before making his way down to your mounds which he gently palmed. “Rem” you breathed out as he took a bud between his teeth.

You expressed your enthusiasm by rolling your hips up into him, making him smirk against your skin. “Impatient are we?” He chuckled before kissing his way down to your abdomen before looking up at you, a silent question. Nodding your consent, you searched for Sirius’ hand which you clutched in anticipation. Remus pulled off your cotton panties and spread your legs apart to reveal your glistening cunt, the sight making him groan in appreciation.

He decided not to tease you any longer and brought his long fingers to trace light circles on your swollen clit. The sensation sent tendrils of pleasure through you like electric shocks. Your back arched off the bed as the boy continued to circle the nub, picking up the pace with every second, but going relatively slow as not to overwhelm you.

Erotic sounds which none of them had heard before fell from your parted lips , making the boys impossibly hard — seeing your body react to the slightest of touches was enough to make them cum in their pants.

“I’m gonna enter a finger into you to prep you alright darling?” Remus asked.

“Yes” you eagerly nodded. He stroked your clit one last time before dragging one of his digits down to your hole where he garnered the wetness. He pushed in his long, slender finger, curling it upwards immediately hitting your spot. Body jolting upwards, you gasped at the sudden sensation of pleasure. He then pushed in another, pumping in and out, stretching you out enough to take their cocks.

Just when you felt like you were going to cum, you grasped Remus’ wrist. “I want-..um I’m ready now to you know”. The boys smiled sweetly at your innocence and inability to use lewd language. They thought it to be very endearing.

“Who do you want, love?” He questioned. You looked at all three of them, finding it hard to make a decision. “Jamie. I want you” you finally decided. Even though you adored and trusted each of them equally, it just felt right to have James be the first one.

The bespectacled boy smiled at you and placed a kiss on your hip bone. “I’m all your’s.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, eyes glassy in nervous, yet excited anticipation. You were still holding Sirius’ hand, your’s clammy and sweaty but that didn’t seem to bother him as he held onto to it, thumb rubbing slowly against the delicate skin reassuringly. Remus placed a chaste kiss on your cheek as he stroked your forehead to lightly brush away the strands of hair that had stuck to the damp skin.

Then James pushed in. He slowly pushed in the tip, eyes locked on your’s searching for any discomfort before continuing. He groaned at how wet and tight you were, but forced himself to focus on you and only you. So far so good, so you nodded an agreement to continue and he did. He thrust in all at once in an attempt, to not prolong the pain and he stilled there as you hissed out at the stinging sensation. He was big, you could definitely feel your walls stretching out to accommodate his thickness. The pain wasn’t unbearable but definitely present. Your grip on Sirius’ hand tightened as you moved around a bit so that you could acclimate yourself to the new sensation. He squeezed back in reassurance.

“You alright?” Remus asked. You nodded before thrusting your hips out and back onto James’ shaft causing him to moan out in surprise and pleasure. He took it from there by lightly gripping your hips and pushing in and out of you into a steady rhythm. Your head fell back into Remus’ chest as the pain quickly turned to pure ecstasy with the way James’ cock filled you up. You could feel his girth enclosed snug against your tight walls and his spongy head rubbing up against your g spot just right.

The brunette boy threw his head back as he picked up the pace, grunting each time your hips met with his, filling you to the hilt. “You’re doing amazing pup” Sirius remarked, bringing his hand down to toy with your clit. “Mhm look so sexy like this” Remus added, sucking on your neck.

The way the boys were speaking and the stimulation on your core was enough for you to be brought to the very edge and it just took one look at where James and you were connected to teeter off the cliff and succumb to the most powerful orgasm you had ever experienced. Your body rocked with pleasure as you grasped onto anything you could as if your life depended on it. The sensation was all consuming and better than anything you could have ever imagined.

James followed close after you, your walls clenching around him causing him to fill you with his cum.

Once you had come down from your high, you opened your eyes to look be met with the sight of all three boys, gazing fondly at you, awe struck by the fact that you were a literal goddess. You giggled at them before pulling them all down on you — they were crushing your body but you didn’t mind as you pulled them three into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much. I love you so much”.

“We love you too” they all replied peppering you in kissed, and tickling you causing an eruption of laughter. “Okay let’s clean you up” James said heading to the bathroom after pulling on his pants. “Yes, how about a movie now?” Remus suggested. Your eyes lit up with excitement, “that sounds great”

“I’ll get the snacks” Sirius said, racing to pull chocolate out of Remus’ trunk causing the lycanthrope to shake his head in mock disappointment before getting up to give you one of his t shirts. You couldn’t have asked for a better night.

#marauders imagine #marauder x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #sirius black #harry potter smut #james potter smut #marauders smut #poly marauders smut #smut #marauder fanfic #aalie’s requests

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orobaxi · 3 years

Text

aftercare.

since he tends to be quite rough during sex, he makes sure to give you extra care afterwards. you won’t need to raise a finger – he’ll wipe you off, offer you water & painkillers, & give you anything else you ask for. & although he won’t apologize verbally if he accidentally injured you, you’ll be able to tell that he’s sorry from his actions.

body part.

he loves your eyes. so full of emotion – so full of lust for him & him alone. from the way your pupils dilate when he takes off his shirt to the way they roll into the back of your head when you orgasm – fuck, he loves them so, so much. on himself, his strength. although he dislikes how he struggles with controlling it sometimes, he’s still proud of it.

cum.

oddly sweet, & on the thinner side. however, there’s always a large amount of it – which is probably caused by his thousands of years of abstinence. anyway, it’s almost required to have a washcloth for immediate cleanup.

dominant/submissive.

he’s almost always dominant, & will only be submissive after you’ve gained the entirety of his trust. before that point, though, he’ll act offended if you even suggest it.

experience.

absolutely none. you’ll be his first, & you’ll have to help him a bit at first. he’s never had the time to masturbate or have sex (he didn’t take interest in anyone anyway), since his job of protecting liyue & its people was prioritized over anything else.

favorite position.

in all honesty, he doesn’t have a favorite. as long as he can hear your whimpers & moans, he’s perfectly content. however, considering how much he loves your eyes & facial expressions, he may be a fan of missionary.

goofy.

since he rarely jokes around anyway, why would he during sex? to him, sex itself is an act of true love – & i’m sure he’d take offense if you attempted to joke around with him during this time. why would he have sex if it’s not going to be a serious moment? why would he have sex if you treat it as a joke?

hair.

although he doesn’t shave, he trims it once it reaches a certain point – one inch, to be exact. half an inch is the most comfortable for him, but he tends to put off trimming until that point. if you ask him to trim further, however, he’ll happily comply.

intimacy.

constant mumblings about how much he loves you, typically followed by praises concerning how well you’re taking him; growling in your ear & degrading you, telling you how much of a slut you are… it depends on his mood, really. jack off.

jack off.

in all honesty, he rarely masturbates – the thought itself makes him uncomfortable, & he doesn’t have much time to do it anyway. the closest he’s gotten to masturbation was dry humping one of his bed’s pillows out of pure frustration.

kinks.

begging, light bondage, edging… those are the things he can name off the top of his head, at least. he’d enjoy anything that you’re into, though – seeing you in pleasure is enough for him to get off. he does have some limits, but you’ll have to figure them out together.

location.

although he prefers to have sex in private areas, he’s open to the idea of fucking you in the many ruins scattered within liyue. well, as long as its nighttime, that is. he frequently fantasizes about bending you over the wangshu inn’s balcony, forcing you to take him until you’re shaking, crying from a mixture of pleasure & pain, & begging him to let you have a break.

motivation.

dirty talk & teasing touches have a surprising effect on him, however, if you were to simply inform him that you want him, that’ll be enough of a reason for him to fuck you. teasing touches must be done in moderation, & you’ll have to play your cards perfectly if you want a positive response from him. ideally, these touches should be done either in private or just out of others eyesight, & should be followed up with light dirty talk. whisper how much you need him & how you don’t know how long you’ll last without him – tell him you’ve been craving his touch for hours & whimper his name… he’ll make time to fuck you.

no.

weapons of any sort will never be allowed during sex. he’s far too afraid of seriously hurting – or even accidentally killing – you, & he doesn’t understand the possible thrill you may feel from it. otherwise, almost anything is on the table.

oral.

surprisingly, he prefers giving over receiving. he wouldn’t know what he was doing at first, but he’s almost a natural at it. perhaps it’s the way he listens to the sounds you’re making & looking up at your facial expressions that inform him that he’s doing good, or it’s your quiet moans of praise that tell him all he needs to know. if you need to, you can gently guide him; pull his hair towards where you need him to be, tell him that he needs to swirl his tongue a bit more… xiao can’t help but feel a bit awkward & insecure when he’s receiving oral, however. he loves the way you make him feel & the way you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re truly enjoying it as much as he is. either way, he’s sure to inform you of just how good you’re doing – both through his words & his body language. struggling to keep his hips from bucking, throwing his head back ever so slightly, the slight shake of his legs… it’s a heavenly sight, that’s for sure.

pace.

teasingly slow & gentle, taking his time to savor your expressions & the sounds pouring out of your mouth; rapidly pounding into you & making you see stars, continuously bringing you to your orgasm with little care for your comfort. it depends on both of your moods, really. he won’t be rough with you if you don’t want him to be, & he expects you to have the same respect for his wishes.

quickie.

very, very rarely, as he’d much rather wait until the two of you had time for a long session. however, if you insisted that you couldn’t wait, he may succumb to your desire.

risk.

while he dislikes sexual risks of any kind, he’d be willing to indulge you if you requested.

stamina.

he can continuously fuck you for hours on end, with the only hindrance being your own energy & his adepti responsibilities. occasionally, he’ll give you a break for an hour or so, & then ask if you’re ready to go again – if this is met with a negative response, however, he’ll refrain from doing it again.

toys.

while he doesn’t own any, he’ll be pleasantly surprised if you have some. he’ll be nervous about you using them on him, but he’ll gladly use them on you. while he’ll never purchase any toys himself, he won’t complain if you buy any.

unfair.

he’ll only tease if you attempt to tease him first, but he’ll always beat you at your own game. he’s bold enough to tease you under tables & make out with you in places that are barely out of the eyesight of others – whispering about what he wants to do to you, gently biting your neck, & then pulling away to leave you shaking with want.

volume.

when he’s dominant, deep moans & growls are typical of him. while he’s typically quiet, there are times where the two of you are glad he put silencing talismans throughout the bedroom – otherwise, the entire inn could hear him. “you’re more needy than i thought you were… you’re perfect.” “you’re taking me so well. i’m almost done, don’t worry.” on the rare occasion that he’s submissive, surprisingly feminine whimpers & groans will fill the air. he’s quite insecure about this, & thus constantly attempts to muffle himself with a pillow. if there’s nothing nearby for him to muffle himself with, he’ll try to use his hands – if his hands are tied, though, you’re in for a treat. “sh–shit, right there! fuck–” “it’s too much, it hurts–! i need more, please–”

wild card.

when he orgasms, his tattoos glow ever so slightly. he isn’t sure why, though, & he’s oddly insecure about it. after you tell him how you feel about it – how hot it is to you – those insecurities will slowly fade.

xray.

just below average length, but he makes up for the slight loss with the fact that he knows exactly what you need him to do in order to make you cum – & he’s amazingly talented with his fingers.

yearning.

he never felt much desire before, but this changed soon after the two of you got into a relationship. there’s periods of time where he doesn’t think about sex at all, but then there’s times where his sex drive skyrockets. despite this, he won’t bring the idea of sex up to you unless you ask first – he still feels a bit shy about his desires.

zzz.

xiao rarely gets tired, & he’s usually the one to clean up any messes afterwards. since he knows you’re tired, though, he’ll lay down with you until you fall asleep. however, he still has to preform his duties as an adeptus, & you’ll wake up without him more often than not.

#xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #seth.req #smut

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wotanidiott · 3 years

Note

maybe some draco angst with prompts 20, 17 & 15 (angst ones)? thank you 🤎

—————————————————

The Other Potter

summary - after a heated argument, draco finally confesses, or rather shows you, his hidden feelings

pairing - draco x fem reader, mentions of ron x fem reader

house - gryffindor

time period - 7th year

word count - 2.6k

warnings - very angsty, violence and a whole lot of swearing

a/n - ahhh this is my first official post skdjkssjskksjssk !!!! i hope it’s okay i made the reader harry’s sister? i just randomly came up with the storyline and thought it would fit well with your request ... anyways i hope yall like it <3

prompts

“are you going to cry now?”

“you’re scaring me”

“you’re nothing. you hear me? nothing”

"Y/N!" You heard the distant calling of your name amongst the chatter of the mass of students in the Great Hall. Cocking your head slightly forward from your seat at the Gryffindor table, you found the source of the noise as they barrelled into the entrance with a frantic look in their eyes.

"Neville, what's wrong?" You question him, as he flops onto Seamus Finnigan, seated adjacent from you. Seamus furrows his eyebrows at his friend's breathless state, then looking at you with the same confused expression on your face.

Neville audibly heaves for a good minute, catching his breath from the seemingly long run he underwent.

"Harry, he—" His sentence is interrupted by a lengthy inhale of oxygen.

You perk up at your brother's name. A plethora of questions surfacing in your mind. "Harry? What happened? What did he do now?" You stand up, placing both hands on the table as you peer over at the short-winded boy now laying flat on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“He ... he—”

"He what?" You persist.

"Courtyard. He's— A-And Malfoy. "

That's all you needed to snatch your bag off the floor and bolt for the courtyard.

You realised you had developed some sort of attraction to the infamous Slytherin Prince around the start of 5th year. Although, you had assumed it was just a phase. In what world could you ever be attracted to the one guy that makes you and your brother's lives a living hell?

So that's what you had concluded it was. Just a phase. One that had seemingly fizzled out once you started dating Ron and now call a silly mishap.

But that wasn't true at all, was it?

A series of scenarios flickered through your head as you begun to wonder just exactly what had happened for poor Neville to nearly faint from shortness of breath to fetch you.

It must've been urgent.

As you reach the Courtyard, a crowd has formed around the oak tree, most likely watching the interaction between the two boys. Your hand finds the wand tucked in the pocket of your robes, gripping it tightly as you push through the cluster of people to get to the front.

He sees you before you see him.

"Ahhh, how nice of you to join us. Now the other Potter's here, we can really have some fun" Malfoy announces. Sniggers erupt from the group of Slytherins behind him as you finally reach the centre of the circle.

Your eyebrows knit together in perplexity. Malfoy is stood in the middle, surrounded by his goons but there's no sight of Harry.

"Where is he?" You snap at Malfoy, hostility lacing your words as you look around the gathered students agitated.

"Y/N, I'm here!" Harry's voice calls from above. At first your skeptic but as you look up, there he was. Floating in mid-air. Along with Hermione and Ron.

"You bloody git. I'll get you back for this Malfoy. I swear—" Ron is cut off by the single wave of Blaise Zabini's wand, effectively silencing him.

"They look rather comfy up there, Potter. Don't you think? Care to join them?" Malfoy pulls his signature smirk, eyeing you up and down.

The hold on your wand tightens as you whip it out and point it at him, stepping forward. "Oh, I wouldn't if I were you. Unless you want a repeat of fourth year? Don't think we all forgot about you running stark naked around the corridors after your little ferret incident."

The crowd bursts into laughter at your witty comeback. Even Theodore Nott couldn't contain his laughter and eventually gave in when he saw the humiliated look gracing Malfoy's face.

Malfoy's gaze on you hardens, his upper lip curling in contempt as he too takes a step forward. If looks could kill, this would be it. He flicks his wand upwards, still maintaining eye contact and you hear the thud of 3 bodies on your left, followed by grunts from the hard contact as he relinquished the golden trio from his spell.

"Yeah? No wonder Weasel left you for the Mudblood. I would too considering what a bitch you are." He hisses with no remorse.

Gasps emit from the crowd at his harsh riposte.

As much as you'd hate to admit it, the comment hit a nerve. You remained civil with Hermione and Ron after having found out he cheated on you with her but the pain was still there. A guilty expression flickered over the couple's faces as they shot you an apologetic look.

"Awww, are you going to cry now?"

Your wand lowers slightly from the impact of Malfoy's insult and he takes this as an opportunity to cast a leg-locking curse.

However, he underestimated you. You managed to block the spell with a simple protection charm before quickly shouting "Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's wand jumped into your open hand in a fleet of a moment and he was left defenceless.

"I may be a bitch but at least I'm not a disappointment. It's obvious that your Father would rather have anyone— hell, he'd even have Harry rather than you as a son" you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him.

You felt a surge of satisfaction when an emotion that resembled hurt flashed across his face. But it went as soon as it came.

Something in Draco snapped. It was one thing to ridicule him in front of his peers but to bring up his Father? Now that was a whole different ball game. Before he could even stop himself, a barrage of insults came pouring out.

"Are you even hearing yourself? At least I have a Father. And I have a Mother. You? You have no one. Your parents are fucking dead, Potter. You don't even have any recollection of them—"

"MALFOY—"

"Shut the fuck up, Potter" He snaps at Harry then instantly directs his attention to you again. "And as for your sorry brother, I don't even see you two together anymore. He'd rather be around the two people that betrayed you—"

"Draco, mate, I think that's enoug—" Theo tugs on Malfoy's sleeve to get him to stop but he's persistent on speaking his mind.

"Piss off, Nott. A-Around the two people that betrayed you than— than a pathetic excuse for a witch. No one likes nor cares about you. You're nothing, Potter. You hear me? Nothing."

Malfoy appeared deranged in the way he lashed out at you, chest heaving from his rant and wild eyes that looked as if he could kill you right at that moment.

But you didn't care.

You were past the point of caring. You knew all the things he said to you were true, you sometimes even thought it. But it felt like a whole new revelation when he stated it aloud. In front of everyone. Soon the whole school would be talking about this.

But you didn't care.

It was then, Draco knew. He knew he messed up. He took in the wide eyes and gaping mouths of his peers around him. Harry's enraged expression. His friends' guilty body language; despite the fact they played no part in the insult.

Then his eyes swept over to you. He had knocked the life right out of you. You looked ... numb. With your faintly quivering lip and glassy eyes, he realised he had overstepped. Usually, you'd retaliate and he would too until you were both separated by your friends or the professors.

Though, this was different. This was overdoing it.

"R-Right." You managed to say flatly but the distress was clear in your words. The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill and you felt sick. Sick to the stomach about the fact everyone had heard and were most likely going to realise that about you too if they hadn't already.

You had to leave. Bolt out of there before you became a weeping mess.

You turned on your heel and made a beeline for the closest abandoned corridor you knew by heart. You couldn't go to your dorm because Harry would find you there and you wanted to be alone for the time being.

You ignored your brother's calls to come back aswell as Hermione's and a few other fellow Gryffindors you had befriended over the years.

Tear after tear came rolling down your flushed cheeks. Each one representing a time you had bottled up those feelings and refused to give into the 'let it all go' mechanism.

The past 2-3 years had been a blur of pain and heartbreak. Ron and Hermione's betrayal had hit you worse than you thought, combined with Harry's absence and the pitiful treatment your friends had been giving you.

"Potter, wait!"

You whirled round so fast at the all so familiar voice. Out of all people, you hadn't expected him to be the one to follow you.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy. Please— Just .... just please leave me alone" Your plead came out in splutters, unable to fully form a sentence with the state your mind was in.

You swivel back round and begin to continue further down the hallway but you don't get far as Malfoy calls after you again.

"Potter, stop."

"WHAT? WHAT IS IT? YOU WANT TO HUMILIATE ME EVEN MORE? IS THAT IT? WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT, MALFOY?" You turn, snapping at him.

Through the swelling anger and haze of your tears, you couldn't make out his expression as he stared intently at your face.

"I— I just wanted to—" Malfoy pauses for a second, struggling to find the right words. After a moment, he simply sighs, eyes travelling to your hand. "My wand. You have my wand." He points at your clenched fists that have both his and your wand in it's tight grip.

At that, you feel immensely stupid for lashing out at him. Huffing, you shove it in his hands and collapse against the vacant corridor's wall out of frustration.

You bury your head in your hands and replay the scene that had just occurred. It was humiliating. Utterly humiliating ... but it was the truth.

"Potter."

You started slightly at the sound of Malfoy's voice. You had expected him to go running back to his goons to ridicule your breakdown yet here he was.

"Wh-What are y-you still doing here?" You managed to reply in between hiccups as you kept your eyes wired shut to cease the ever flowing stream of tears. "Would h-have thought you'd ran off and celebrated this v-victory of yours with the other Slytherins."

"Potter, I—"

"No, you know what, I don't even care anymore." You get to your feet and push yourself off the wall. This would only satisfy Malfoy even further; watching every piece of the facade you managed to maintain, crack and fracture. He didn't deserve to see you like this.

As you swivel round, about to make a run to your dorm, you're pulled back by a harsh grip on your wrist. Cold rings digging into your skin as he spins you back round.

"Well, I do." Malfoy says in almost a whisper.

You shoot him a bemused look at his vague and random words.

He takes in your confused expression and further elaborates. "...Care. I mean." He says, flatly whilst looking around you as if he were avoiding your eyes.

You can't help the scoff that passes through your mouth as you yank your wrist free of his grasp. "You? Care? Yeah, right."

You go to turn again but he stops you once more. "Look, Potter—"

"Malfoy—"

"If you would just—"

"No—"

"Listen to me—"

"Why would—"

In a fleet of a moment, Malfoy shoves you against the wall. His large hand wrapped around the back of your head to mitigate the impact. And the other squeezing your hip to hold you in place.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP INTERRUPTING ME. IS IT SO HARD TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND FUCKING LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY?"

You open your mouth to protest but you're quickly cut off by his hand leaving your head as it drives into the stone wall right next to your face.

"STOP IT. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT LISTEN MEANS, POTTER?"

You jump at the abrupt act of violence combined with the volume and harshness of his words.

"LISTEN."

His fist rams into the wall again.

"TO."

And again.

"ME."

And again.

Your eyes screw shut as you let out a small whimper from the proximity of his punches between the wall and your face. Tears escaping and falling rapidly from the fear he had elicited out of you combined with the occurrence that had put you in this mess in the first place.

Malfoy is pulled out of his momentary ballistic rage at the sound of your small and helpless sounding whimper. He had yet again let his temper get the better of him. Culpability overcame him as he took in your cowering state and he instantly regretted spinning out of control.

"Potter." His voice, eyes and grip had softened drastically, completely contrasting his aura just seconds ago.

"Y-You're scaring me." You murmur.

Malfoy instantaneously takes a step back, releasing you from his hold.

Your eyes fly open and immediately register the immense shame etched on his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—" He pauses momentarily, sighing to himself before continuing. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt you. I didn't mean the things I said earlier."

It was an understatement to say you were taken aback by Malfoy apologising. You didn't think he even knew how to.

"You're sorry?" You reply, dubiously.

"Yes. I am."

You squint your eyes at him in suspicion, "No, you're not. Why would you be sorry? You don't even care—"

"Fuck's sake, not again." He cuts you off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose out of irritation.

You don't understand. What's his angle? Surely, he doesn't really care. Right?

"What? You don't. Or else you wouldn't have—" You attempt to explain your point of view but he interrupts you once more.

"FUCKING HELL, POTTER. I AM SORRY, OKAY? IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO BELIEVE THAT I'M APOLOGISING FOR HURTING YOUR FEELINGS?"

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you stare at each other.

"Yes." You breathe. "I-I just don't understand why you would—"

Before you could even process what was happening, Malfoy has you pinned to the wall anew but this time with his lips pressed against yours.

You undergo a mixture of all sorts of emotions in the time span of a second. Shock, confusion, disbelief and most of all a tiny spark of exuberance.

He gives you little time to melt into the kiss before he's pulling away already and holding your face in his hands.

You've never been this close to Malfoy before, so needless to say you wouldn't have believed anyone if they said Malfoy actually had the most entrancing eyes. Like a storm brewing behind grey clouds, you thought.

"Does that answer your question?" He asks, a smirk creeping up his face.

You can't help the little smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you attempt to mirror his smirk. "Partly, yes."

Without a second thought, you smash your lips against his, hands travelling to his hair as you lightly tug on the ends.

He slightly moans at this and mumbles in between kisses, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

You both suddenly pull away from each other as you meet Harry's eyes from the end of the hallway.

Shit.

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#draco smut #smutty #harry potter smut #draco angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #harry potter imagine #harry potter #draco imagine #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy #hp fanfic #hp fandom #fanfic

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

#cassandra x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #yeah I'm back #don't be weird about it

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aliensunflower-fics · 4 years

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The Interview

[ Did I seriously take time away from writing requests and part twos of things JUST to write a fic where Marinette Flambé‘s Gabriel until he’s nothing but a dirty little lump of coal? Yes. Yes I did. Enjoy! ]

Gabriel Agreste would call himself a practical man. He had never been one for frivolous things. And he believed this was a good thing. His straight and to the point nature meant no gift would go unused, no conversation would drag on, his time would never be wasted. And his designs reflected this practical and sharp point of view. Or so he believed.

Gabriel Agreste would also call himself a realist. He knew full well he was the villain, and he knew full well the damage he had done and was doing. But it did not bother him, he was selfish and sentimental at least concerning his wife. And he wanted it all. The wife, the business, the perfect son, the house. All of it.

And that was why Gabriel Agreste wanted Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She was brilliant, creative, determined, and quick on her feet. Each time he'd been near her he could feel the power she radiated her flurry of untapped potential and raw emotion swirling like a tumultuous ocean. Yes, Gabriel needed Marinette to become his most awe-inspiring destructive, and terrifying Akuma, the one who would finally level Paris and rip the Miraculous off of those pesky heroes once and for all! And who knows, if she succeeded perhaps Gabriel would give her the privilege of being his apprentice in his new perfect world. Her designs had been pretty good and he was nothing if not practical.

There was of course one, tinsy tiny problem however with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And that was to put it simply that she was perhaps TOO brilliant, creative, determined, and quick on her feet. Every time he thought he finally had her something would go wrong! First, it was that useless excuse for a ‘teacher’ getting in the way, then Mayura failed him! Then Marinette had seemingly caught on and adapted! Bullied? Nope, she thought positive thoughts and spent time with friends. Property destroyed? She’d fix it and make it nicer than before! Lied about? She'd clear her name by the end of the day! Stolen from? She’d always find a fix! Each and every attempt was simply a hurdle the girl overcame!

Even Lila and Adrien had failed him! The sausage headed brat had been trying to crack Marinette near religiously but she had yet to produce real results, if she framed the girl some proof would appear to clear her, if she bullied the girl Marinette would simply walk away to calm down, physical assault had not even been enough to break her. And Adrien… Well, he had no idea that his father was trying to manipulate him so his failures were at least forgivable but even then nothing he did worked. He’d tried several times to produce a jealousy akuma out of Marinette pairing his own son off with Kagami and occasionally even letting the Italian leech hang off his son but Marinette never budged, it wasn’t that she wasn’t jealous or even angry it was just that she cared too much for other people, with Kagami the baker girl had backed off and even aided out in their budding relationship her feelings of kindness and friendship out shadowing her jealousy. And with Lila? Well, Marinette was more concerned with Adrien’s emotional and physical well-being, and after seeing what the liar’s fake nails had done to his son's arms Gabriel could understand why. As a last resort, Gabriel had tried forbidding Adrien from ever seeing the girl again hoping that would do it, but not even 5 minutes later he had undone the command when Adrien threatened to quit modeling and blast his father on social media… Needless to say, Gabriel wasn’t sure where his son had gotten the backbone for such a move but he felt like blaming Marinette for that as well.

Yes. Gabriel Agreste had tried everything to akumatize Marinette Dupain-Cheng and nothing had worked. Now at 17, the girl was still going strong showing no cracks in her armor. Well… He had tried ALMOST everything. There was one thing, one last little thing he had yet to try… And that was ruining the young girl's dream. Now Gabriel did not truly wish to squash such talent, but of course, he didn’t really NEED to. Yes, it was perfect. He would invite the youngest Dupain-Cheng into his home for an interview with a prospective internship on the line. He would warm her up by poking and prodding at her design portfolio, then he would accuse her of stealing the designs from Lila Rossi, and finally, he would claim to be blacklisting her entirely from the very world of fashion! No doubt THAT the very destruction of her dreams would finally produce the Akuma he needed to secure victory. If she succeeded he would favor her in his new perfect world as a reward, and if she failed… Well then he could claim he had ‘seen the truth’ while she was akumatized and undo the damage, there was no sense in actually ruining the girls promising career after all.

With his plan set Gabriel ordered Nathalie to make the arrangements. Come Saturday afternoon Marinette Dupain-Cheng would finally be akumatized.

However, Gabriel was hit with his first surprise, or perhaps his first ‘warning’ when Nathalie entered his office to inform him that Saturday was NOT on the table. In a shocking and rare turn, Marinette had somehow negotiated Nathalie to schedule the interview for Friday instead. Forcing the assistant to re-organize Gabriel’s entire schedule. When Gabriel had asked why this had happened Nathalie had seemed unlike herself, flustered and unsure, apparently Marinette had been very firm about having very important Saturday plans she would not even consider changing and had stated simply and sharply that her only free time would be Friday this week or Gabriel would need to wait another two weeks for her next availability. Hearing that was a shock, Gabriel had NEVER once needed to reschedule himself for others! No! They rescheduled for HIM. But fine, perhaps the sentimental girl had some idiotic family get together she felt she could not say no to it didn’t really matter in fact Friday meant he’d get his Akuma an entire day earlier. Fine then, Friday it was.

The second surprise had come Friday itself. When Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng arrived perfectly on time. Gabriel was the one caught with his pants down as he had expected the girl to be late with what Adrien had told him of the girl's tardiness record. He and Nathalie were left scrambling to get the office in order while Marinette sat in the hall. Gabriel would review the security footage later and note that the young designer did not gawk or stare at his opulent manor but rather eyed everything critically and with an air of absolute boredom as if she had a million other things she would rather be doing. Had Gabriel seen this expression on the young woman's face beforehand he might have noted it as his second warning that things were not going to go as he expected them to.

Finally, the office looked impeccable and Nathalie invited the young woman in. Gabriel stood behind his desk, his face an emotionless mask but his mind reaching out using the magic granted to him by Nooroo to feel for the young woman's emotions so he could better guide this in the way he desired. However when the young woman entered he was not overcome by the tsunami of nerves and emotions he expected rather it was like an ice front had hit his office. Gabriel was shocked, he could not for the life of him read the girl she was a perfect wall of flawless gleaming ice with no cracks for him to exploit, even her eyes which he had seen in photos and through his Akuma's vision were not what he expected. In every picture, Adrien had tried to show him the young woman's eyes were warm and sweet but now those bluebell orbs had frosted over regarding him with a sharp and pointed stare as if she could read his thoughts. As the two exchanged pleasantries and shook hands Gabriel waited for her to situate herself before he did the same taking a second to share a brief glance with Nathalie who seemed just as confused and put off by the young woman's behavior as he was.

Feeling nervous Gabriel decided to open with some small talk hoping to find a crack that would allow him to feel the young woman's emotions so he politely asked a question about how she'd been. She responded curtly and politely that she was fine but busy, he asked about her parents and their business, she cooly responded that they were opening a second location, finally, he complimented her outfit asking if she designed it herself. He expected to feel SOMETHING from the girl exhilaration at being complimented by someone she admired, nervous about him pointing it out, anything! Instead, the wall of ice remained cool and shimmering as ever as she told him that she had indeed designed the outfit herself and that she was pleased it met his standards. And it did, she wore silky black palazzo pants that flowed gently at the bottom but was clearly tailored to her exact centimeter around her hips, her top had some clear Asian inspirations with a modern twist, it was flawlessly fitted but seemed comfortable and easy to move in. It was white with pink and gold hand painted sakura flowers and some embroidery detailing that were certainly done by hand, to match she had pink lips and pristine white heels, her hair was down but perfectly in place, she was the very image of a professional confidant woman all at the young age of 17.

They chatted a while longer with Gabriel asking her about her design process and if she’d painted on the details of her shirt but still there was no crack in the ice keeping her emotions from Gabriel’s prying mind. The only emotion he could read from the girl was in her body language and it was clear she was losing her patience as Gabriel avoided the reason she was here. Clearing his throat awkwardly and sparing another quick glance at Nathalie who looked just as lost as himself. He finally settled in his chair and they began.

It was a rather standard interview at first, as Gabriel did not want to play his cards too quickly and was hoping that if he was patient the ice guarding the woman's emotions would thaw. He asked to see her sketches while they spoke and she easily handed over a professional-looking sketchbook, as he flipped through it he would occasionally pause to ask questions about her design process or inspiration, they were lovely sketches and truthfully Gabriel was hard-pressed to find anything wrong with them, but for the sake of his plan, he acted unimpressed and even critical of her designs. If it bothered her, she made no show of it much to Gabriel’s annoyance. He began to press harder, asking her if she could truly handle an internship under someone of his caliber, then he asked what her grades were, how he could trust her around his son as he’d heard some unsavory rumors about her character from a trustworthy employee. If anything he said bothered her, she never let it show her face a cool mask of professional disinterest. Gabriel tried not to grind his teeth, this was NOT going as he planned, as he prepared to accuse her of stealing Lila’s designs the young designer held up her hand to silence him.

“Monsieur Agreste, you have been asking a lot of questions. May I ask one of my own?”

Her voice was calm but Gabriel could hear the tiniest bit of ice in her tone. Perhaps his prodding was working after all. Either way, he nodded for her to continue, she straightened just the littlest bit before settling Gabriel with an icy look.

“I would like to know why you believe YOU are qualified to be my mentor.”

Gabriel blinked once. Then twice. He was quite sure his mouth was open in shock. He glanced again at Nathalie; his assistant seemed to be mirroring his own feelings and expressions. Finally, he swallowed and his mouth felt dry.

“Pardon me?” The girl in front of him blinked at him as if he were a rather idiotic child.

“I asked: WHY do you think you're qualified to mentor me. Monsieur Agreste.” Her voice was pure ice now and he suppressed a shiver.

He sat up straighter leveling the girl with an icy look of his own trying not to let his shock show.

“And what makes you think it is acceptable to ask me such a question Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

“Well… This is an interview is it not? Did you think I would simply agree to work for you without checking if you are up to my standards?”

Gabriel suppressed a strangled sound of insult as the red hot feeling of anger rose within him as he absorbed the young woman's words. But even still he could not suppress all of it.

“I beg your pardon!” She gave him a critical look but altogether a bored one.

“I do not mean to offend, Monsieur Agreste. But you are not the first to offer me an internship, currently, I have about 5 different offers on my table, the most notable being with the Style Queen herself and La Mode’s head designer Edna. I want to make an… Educated decision. And frankly, the only reason I am here today is as a favor to your son Adrien, who asked me to give you a chance. So again I will ask, what makes YOU Gabriel Agreste more qualified to mentor me, than Audrey Bourgeois or Edna Mode?”

Gabriel was left feeling very much like he had been caught with his pants down. Marinette Dupain-Cheng already had other offers? And with the top jewels of the fashion world's crown?! How? When!? Surely if Miss Dupain-Cheng had made any significant leaps in the world of fashion he and Nathalie would know about it… Right? I mean, true he had taken a step back from the world in his pursuit of the Miraculous and perhaps he had not been as involved in his own business lately. But he had both Lila and Nathalie on the outside yet they had said nothing about the young girl and her fashion career. Frantically searching for something to say to get the interview back on track and heading the way he wanted Gabriel’s eyes landed on the colorful designer bag Marinette had with her. He had noticed it seemed tailor-made to go with her outfit now taking a closer look at it he noticed the subtle detail of ‘MDC’ in golden lettering. No… No, he could not have missed it. Nathalie could not have missed it! MDC was known as Jagged Stone’s and Clara Nightingale's personal designer the mysterious presence had been a thorn in Gabriel’s side snatching his more famous clientele. But now it was clear. MDC was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl he’d been planning to threaten with a fashion world blacklist and accusations of falsifying her designs was his up and coming competitor. Gabriel swallowed thickly trying to think of how he could spin this situation in his favor now. Nathalie who was unaware that MDC was sitting in front of him could offer no help.

“Well, Miss Dupain-Cheng as I'm sure you are aware, I was once very much in the same situation as yourself, I built my own company from the ground up after I was done training with my own mentor. I could show you how a successful business is built up and run. And I could help you polish your designs.”

The girl nodded thoughtfully and pulled out a small notebook and pen scribbling down something he could not see. Gabriel ignored Nathalie’s looks of confusion and his own growing anger. This was not how he wanted things to go but knowing what he now knew he needed to play his cards carefully, perhaps he could get the girl to intern under him then wear her down until she became possible to akumatize? Yes, that might work! Marinette cleared her throat and Gabriel focused on her again.

“So you could give me an excellent perspective on building my own business and running it… I assume this means you have a plan to get your own business back from the brink of failure then?”

Gabriel choked. His eyes near bulging out of his head as his mind fought to comprehend what had just been said. Marinette for her part simply arched a well-maintained eyebrow in response.

“I do apologize if that was direct. It's just… Well looking at your sales numbers in recent seasons shows a continuing decline in sales, not to mention the number of celebrities seen wearing Gabriel originals has dropped significantly. I will not be interning on a sinking ship Monsieur Agreste surely you understand?”

A quick glance to Nathalie gave him a nod of confirmation that the young woman's words were true. He hadn’t even noticed…

“Of course I have a plan to increase sales. I have been taking a… Creative break. So to speak in order to properly mourn my wife and come up with fresh new ideas.”

It was a bald-faced lie that had crawled its way out of his throat and through his teeth. But it seemed to satisfy the young designer who scribbled a few more notes down before again returning her icy gaze to his face.

“I assume this plan also involves cleaning up the rampant abuse your company is known for then?”

“EXCUSE ME?!” It was Nathalie that time, her face pale and her eyes wide though Gabriel very much agreed with the sentiment.

“Oh? Your secretary was unaware? Hm.” The designer jotted something down continuing to speak as she wrote. “It’s well known in the world of fashion, you have mass turn over in your employee’s they complain that you don't take accusations of sexual assault seriously, that your harsh and overly demanding on your employee’s, that you foster an environment in which abusers and bullies can easily get their way. And that's not even touching on the rumors surrounding the pedophilia, sex scandals, and your abusive behavior toward your own son.”

At those words, Gabriel could take no more his chair let out a screech as he leaped up and slammed his hand down on his desk the loud bang ringing out through the room. To her credit, Marinette did not jump or flinch at the sudden noise. Nathalie however, did.

“That is quite enough Miss Dupain-Cheng! I will not have you coming into my home leveling such blatant and false accusations about my business and personal life!”

The young designer's eyes became impossibly icier and she stood calmly flipping her little notepad closed as she leveled Gabriel with a glare that sent ice into his spine and made him swallow. He swore the room temperature somehow went below zero yet he felt the need to remove his jacket, his body feeling impossibly hot and sweaty.

“In that case. I think I've seen everything I need to make my decision. Do not contact me again Monsieur Agreste I have no interest in maintaining any business relations with a man of your… Type.”

Her words were pure venom yet still he felt no anger coming from her, and now she was trying to leave all at once Gabriel found reality slapping him in the face. His Akuma, his glorious Akuma the one that would lead to his victory he NEEDED it. Nathalie as if reading his mind stepped in front of the door, blocking the young woman's path, Gabriel took a calming breath and fixed his tie. He needed to refocus on the task at hand, he had let the girl get to him but no more he would get the upper hand he WOULD get his Akuma.

“I am afraid we are not done here yet Miss Dupain-Cheng. You see we still have yet to discuss the REAL reason I called you here today.” He didn’t miss a beat, didn't give the girl time to interject. “You see one of my models. A Miss Lila Rossi, claims that you have stolen her designs from her. And having looked at your sketchbook I can now confirm her suspicions. I do wonder what your other potential mentors would think of you being a thief.”

It was a risky lie. Well… Not completely. Lila Rossi had tried to claim Marinette’s work as her own a few times before. Obviously Gabriel never believed the girl, but right now the Italians lie’s were ones he was willing to overlook if it got him what he wanted. And he was sure it was, as finally, the snappy icy Miss Dupain-Cheng was frozen, her expression hidden by her hair but her stiff body was trembling ever so slightly. Finally, Gabriel was back in control.

The girl's body trembled more and more and Gabriel briefly wondered if she was crying or shaking with rage but then he heard it... She was making an odd sound that was growing louder until Gabriel realized what it was… Marinette was laughing. It wasn’t a normal sort of laugh, rather it was a hollow dark sound the type of laugh that belonged to villains in cartoons the type of laugh that sent dread into a person's body, and all at once, the victorious smirk on Nathalie and Gabriel’s faces dropped as Marinette laughed louder and harder. When she finished she wiped tears from her eyes before she settled her icy glare back onto Gabriel a sinister smirk playing on her lips.

“Can I get that in writing Monsieur Agreste?” If she sounded venomous before she sounded downright deadly now. But Gabriel held himself tall and firm.

“This is not a joke Miss Dupain-Cheng. I will not tolerate you stealing from my company.”

“Oh, I am being serious Monsieur Agreste. Do you think this is the first time Rossi has tried to play this game with me?” She scoffed. “Please. I have grown used to her childish ways. Last time I sent my lawyer with a cease and desist order to her house. But if you believe your little ‘muse’ so much then it seems I will need to hit her a little harder to make my message crystal clear. I don’t have much tolerance for liars, Monsieur Agreste least of all little gold-digging ones.”

“M-My muse?” Gabriel suddenly felt a part of his stomach drop. Something about what was just said was clearly very wrong.

“Yes. Your ‘muse’ that's what Lila has been calling herself since she began working for you two years ago. Where do you think the rumors of pedophilia came from Monsieur Agreste?” He choked, but she only hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should be more careful who you hire. Especially considering how she sexually assaults your son. But you already knew about THAT and didn’t fire her. So perhaps she really IS your ‘muse’ then.”

Gabriel could hear the unspoken threat in her words daring him to push the issue and face her wrath and knew he was now playing a very dangerous game. He had known that Lila enjoyed hanging off his son and he had told her off about the wounds she left with her nails and that had stopped, but even after that Adrien had tried to speak with him a few times about Lila but he’d ignored it she was too useful as an ally, but now she may have ended up being his Trojan horse. And if the gleam in Marinette’s eyes and the dangerous smile on her lips was anything to go by the young designer knew it. Nathalie was looking paler the longer this went on. Gabriel knew he needed to save himself now, Akuma be damned he’d be useless to his wife if he lost everything before managing to bring her back.

He cleared his throat. “Now… Perhaps I have been a bit... Hasty? In my accusation of you Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was unaware of Miss Rossi’s dubious nature and words. Or her actions toward my son, perhaps you would consid-”

“How DARE you!” All at once, he was hit with the raw force of Marinette’s emotions, her hot boiling anger overcoming him and knocking out his breath. But just as swift as it came the wall of ice consumed them sealing it away once more. “You have a lot of nerve pretending you knew nothing, Monsieur Agreste. When I know for a fact your son and several of your employees have come to you begging and pleading to be listened to. So either you are lying to my face or you really are just that much of a pathetic excuse for a ‘father’.”

He sputtered trying to defend himself, even Nathalie could no longer stand by stepping forward to try and help his defense.

“Oh please. You are a JOKE, Monsieur Agreste. As Adrien’s close friend I know very well the kind of father- no the kind of MAN you are. You are a cold, abusive, manipulative, worm. You ignore your son, neglect him, and treat him as no more than a mannequin for your clothes. The only reason your business hasn’t gone under yet is because you whore your own son out banking on his popularity to keep yourself afloat.”

Gabriel felt anger and a rare sense of shame rush him all at once as he desperately choked out a reply determined to defend himself. Nathalie stepped forward readying herself to help him but he managed to get out his reply before she needed to offer her help.

“I-I am doing no such thing! I love my son and would never allow any harm to come to him!”

Marinette seemed completely unconvinced. Humming thoughtfully she tilted her head to the side locking Gabriel in her cold gaze.

“In that case perhaps you could tell me what you got him for his last birthday? Here’s a hint he didn’t even get a cake or a happy birthday from you.”

Gabriel stuttered stunned that he was being challenged in such a way he glanced to Nathalie looking to her for help but Marinette stepped in the way blocking his view.

“No? Too hard for you? Then perhaps you could tell me when you last had dinner with him?” Nothing. “Hm. Ok, what about when you last spoke with him about something besides his classes, his job, or his extracurriculars?” Nothing. “Oh, then what's your son's favorite food? Or color? What does he want to do when he’s finally 18 and free from you? Does he want to go to college? Does he even LIKE wearing your tacky awful clothing?” Silence. “Nothing huh… Here il go real easy on you. When was the last time you gave your son a hug?” Gabriel stuttered but he was at a loss for words. He didn’t know. “The last hug YOU gave him was several years ago. When I won your bowler hat competition. You haven’t even touched your own son in years, yet you have the nerve to claim you love him? That you seek to protect him? That you would NEVER have let Lila Rossi molest him near constantly had you simply ‘known’ about it.” She crossed her arms. “I am. Unconvinced. Monsieur Agreste.”

Each word was a pointed blade aiming for Gabriel, cutting him down smaller and smaller until he felt like an insect under the young girl's gaze. Yet she offered him no mercy only staring him down as if he were the scum of the earth. And right now, he felt like he very well might be. Nathalie who had been at the ready finally stepped in leveling Marinette with an icy glare of her own, though compared to the designers it was more lukewarm than anything.

“Monsieur Agreste is a very busy businessman, who has been mourning the loss of his wife!”

Marinette scoffed her icy blue eyes roaming up and down his assistant while her face morphed into a look of disgust.

“Of course YOU would defend him Miss Sancoeur. After all, you are complicit in Adrien’s abuse. Feeding him the equivalent of table scraps so he can stay the perfect malnourished model that you both need to fill your bank accounts with cash. And that is not even broaching on the fact that Adrien is quite sure you share his father's bed when you think he's not looking. After all POOR Monsieur Agreste needs some kind of warmth to ‘mourn’ his wife with while he leaves his son to become more and more emotionally damaged.”

It was Nathalie’s turn to be left a gaping, her face impossibly red with shame at the blatant accusation. In fact, neither Nathalie nor Gabriel knew how to defend themselves now. This was so far from how they had foreseen this interview going that they had nothing left with which to defend themselves with. Marinette Dupain-Cheng however seemed far from finished in fact she seemed like she was just getting warmed up.

“Listen Monsieur Agreste, I once admired your work but I now have no choice but to agree with Madame Bourgeois, you have let the death of your wife sour you into a rotten waste of a man, your designs are lackluster, cold and only look good on mannequins, your business is failing, your employees hate you, your neglectful and abusive of the only family you have left, and your stupid enough to have threatened my future career on the lies of a gold digger. I came here today only because I am a close friend of your son who begged me to give you a chance in the hopes I could help salvage your failing company. But I cannot, and I will not work with a man who is as selfish and repulsive as you.”

Checking her watch Marinette let out an annoyed hum clearly she was not pleased with how long this interview had taken. Sidestepping Nathalie who was still struggling to find the words to defend herself. She made her way to the door pausing once her hand was on the handle.

“Oh and Monsieur Agreste. If you're still determined to call yourself a fashion designer… Then the least you could do is stop dressing yourself like a candy cane themed board game mascot, found at a cheap dollar store. It’s an insult to fashion, and I’d even go so far to say that Hawkmoth has made nicer looking Akuma’s and those look like discount cartoon villains from the ’80s. Now do have a good rest of your day. And look out for my lawyers, they will be coming around sometime soon.”

And with that, she was gone. Leaving Gabriel to slump into his seat and hold his head, while Nathalie shakily took the seat across from him that Marinette had just occupied. The secretary was heavily reconsidering her life choices, perhaps her sister had been right when she said Nathalie needed a nice long vacation away somewhere sunny and warm and far from Gabriel to re-evaluate her priorities.

Gabriel however was re-evaluating his life in a much different way as everything that the young woman threw at him sunk into his head. He believed himself a practical man yet Marinette Dupain-Cheng had utterly disassembled his plan, his life, and his actions leaving him feeling like a schoolyard bully who’d just been put in time out by the teacher. He believed himself a realist, yet Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been the one to rip the wool from his eyes and force him to face the ugly reality that he ignored, his business was collapsing, his employees were either jumping ship or were utterly convinced they could get away with blatant abuse, his wife had been comatose for years, his son quite possibly hated him and when he graduated would take his leave destroying the only thing that left his business a fighting chance, and to top it all off he was wearing RED PANTS.

Leaning back in his chair he stared at his ceiling in a hazy state of fleeting thoughts. All he could think was that it has been one hell of an interview.

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