#Melanin Millennia
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Nezha headcanon’s #3 (Angst)
Nezha has nightmares often about his past, despite it being over more than a millennia ago it still haunts him till this day. So he takes a very large dose of melanin to be able to fall asleep, since mortal medicine doesn’t affect him all that much.
Whenever he hears thunderstorms roar from outside he gets flashbacks about that very day he sacrificed himself to save his family and people from the wrath of the dragon kings. He freezes and is unable to move as his heart races, his mind numb and only able to picture that day.
Nezha basically has PTSD, but with the help of his master, Taiyi Zhenren, Nezha is slowly healing.
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Vampire headcanons
These are ideas I have for vampires within my universe and how I think they would work.
Vampires have a mix of a solid and food diet. The longer they live the less they have need for solid food
The transformation to a full vampire takes long periods of times, often years. The time does change from individual to individual.
They aren't full immortal. They can live for a SUPER long time, but they're minds deteriorate after a period of time. They can live for thousands of years, but they start struggling after a millennia.
The more melanin, the better a vampire can handle the sun. They don't really burst into flames, but they'll feel like they have.
Not all vampires develop powers, and those that do will have different powers from those around them. All vampires have super speed and super strength tho.
I eventually want to get into more super natural beings in my world, and their relationships with humans.
#my writing#my story#writing prompt#story prompt#vampire#story ideas#story idea#vampire story#vampire headcanons#vampires#headcanons#my universe#my lore#my headcanons#my mythology#supernatural#supernatural headcanon
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notes about scinae biology & how it interacts with primitive humans
reverse melanin production timeline to humans. for most of their evolution they were light skinned and only became varied in color/ dark skinned in recent millennia.
this is because homeworlds atmosphere is so thick that most solar radiation dissipates by the time it reaches the surface.
once they spread to their satellites, nearby planets, and other solar systems they evolved to have darker skin to cope with the increased radiation.
once they copulated with humans their descendants became fully dark skinned rather than just 'darker'
similarly, they had a reverse hair texture timeline. their hair is primarily straight and only became curled towards the end of their evolutionary timeline, coinciding with radiation.
afro texture only shows up in their descendants.
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All Tomorrows: ABF (2)
[Check out Part 1] Volcanic eruptions were a disaster of the past and, as such, there were no measures in place to protect against them. The land and people that were not destroyed by the Yellowstone “overflow” were not yet in the clear and were, instead, met with a different fate.
As it happened, while the brilliant minds that stayed on Earth focused their energies on preventing the eruption and working to create a more efficient and equitable society, they had allowed all Terran residents to forget about and, eventually, lack awareness of systems of nuclear weapons and power sources in the Earth. Some speculate that they had not been completely forgotten but were uncovered and in the process of being analyzed shortly before the eruption. Others argue that they had been repurposed for functions unknown [whether or not they were unrecorded or simply unrecognized due to time is also debated]. None of those details matter though. Return, then, to the scene. The ash and lava had settled - humanity had experienced half of its first extinction-level event in millennia. Fortunately, for a society unused to gore and true misery, bodies didn’t litter the ground - for there were no bodies to litter the ground with. Mourning simply wasn’t enough - and there simply wasn’t enough time to mourn. The window between the eruption and the activation of the nuclear weapons has been estimated to be anywhere from one week to twelve hours. Had these devices been in peak condition, there would be no story left to tell of the Terra(n)purists. But time, as it tends to do, wore these “missiles” down and reduced their effectiveness to a third of their original. Why the potency dropped as such a significant rate is also yet to be determined (though there was an era in their history when they summed it up to “divine intervention”). Instead of obliterating all life on Earth - it only mutated them. Of course, there were a number of Humans killed by launch and explosion of these rockets for cities had been erected on the land that governments used to harbour these weapons away from the innocent and the dangerous. But, again, those who weren’t killed so violently had been subjected to undergo mutations. Due to the abundance and aggression of the various chemical compounds in the air, mutations happened relatively quickly. It was like a virus. It crept into their systems. Sometimes, it would kill them immediately. Sometimes, slowly. Sometimes, never - that was when the changes would begin. As records presently state, in the beginning, the mutations were too diverse and some Humans could not be differentiated from affected wildlife - as such, their evolution - if they had one - did not mimic the majority’s. However, there were four common denominators: (1) laughter, (2) the desire to (or attempting to) manipulate fire - despite injury, (3) shoulders, and (4) patchy exoskeletons created from reactions between melanin, keratin, and uranium nitrades.
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Totally forgot about this, oops.
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To This Hollow World We Toast
By: CaelumCalamitas (me)
Summary: Crowley's thoughts celebrating with Aziraphale at the Ritz after Armageddidn't. Rated T (could probably be G, but, eh)
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"To the world!"
clink
Oh, angel, angel, angel. What am I going to do with you?
Your joy is infectious. I don't ever want to be cured of it. I want the fever to consume me, overtake me, live dreams where you and I...
...mmmmm...
Dangerous ground. That.
But a demon can dream? Can't he?
There's so many dreams, fantasies, that I've had about you for millennia. All in this world.
This world we just saved.
But, I'm scared, angel. I'm scared that this world is changing, has been changing. Mostly for the better. Some for the worst.
It's the worst that I fear most.
Together we've seen the incredible accomplishments the humans can achieve, and the truly vile things even the most evil demon would find distasteful.
Trust me. Been a coworker for centuries. Terrible jokes. Has the juiciest gossip though. Git makes great coffee. I'll give him that.
But, angel, this world we just toasted? Just saved? These humans we've taken it upon ourselves to protect? They don't give a shit about us.
They find out what we really are?
Forget Heaven. Forget Hell.
Humans can't even see that internally they have all the same bits and wants and desires. They can't see past differing melanin content of each other's skin, the fuck they going to think of us? We look human. Yeah? I worry, angel. I fear wot'll happen if they find out.
We've seen the atrocities the humans can commit for their fear of anything not identical to themselves.
But, I'll give you this night, angel. And the days, and the weeks, the months, and hopefully the years to come to celebrate.
We did good today. Whatever demonic wrath may come upon me for saying that, we did damn good.
You and I.
Us.
"To the world!”
clink
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Link to AO3:
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#aziracrow#good omens fandom#crowley#aziraphale#crowley loves aziraphale#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots
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When I find good old radfem posts of hers I have to repost because she blocked me for calling her and other crackers on one of her new popular trans posts racists for heralding a melodramatic tweet from some random (also cracker) TIM as "proof" that "all TERFs are white supremacists" and "transphobia is always racism"
Completely making shit up about what we're "based on"
Yes, there is a reason, and it's misogynior, which has nothing to do with you or males and is not transphobia, which radfems many of whom are women of melanin are working against not in support of
"Western concept" crackers aren't the only ones who realized males and females were different centuries ago, Sharia Law has existed on the other side of the world for a very long time and still operates based on sex, there are only two gametes, there have been for millennia and there will never be any more, intersex conditions are variations of male and female and do not produce third+ roles in reproduction and also have nothing to do with you unless you have a condition
"The absolute gender binary rooted in what genitals you have" like that's made up lol. What you're describing is gametes. Gender is some made up shit from within the last 100 years that has nothing to do with sex which has existed as long as humans have been a species, y'all just constantly conflate the two to try and legitimatize gender then tell everyone "TERFs" are actually doing that.
Anyway this and getting shadow banned not long after it is what really peaked me lol every single one of the posters before the based black radfem before me stepped in was a cracker trying to preach about what ending racism actually is...reaching and lying unsourced about a group of international women via pretentious word salad academia language just to call them feminazis
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5 Natural Ways to Reverse Grey Hair: Embrace Your Youthful Glow!
One of the most observable indications of ageing is the development of grey hair. While accepting grey hair can be a stunning and self-assured decision, other people might want to stop or delay the process. Look no further if you're looking for all-natural solutions to get your hair back to its young colour. In this post, we'll look at five practical techniques for reversing grey hair and reviving your hair.
Nutrient-Rich Diet:
Maintaining healthy hair and avoiding early greying are greatly helped by eating a balanced diet. Choose foods like leafy greens, berries, nuts, seeds, and seafood that are high in vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants. These nutrient-rich options support the growth of melanin, the pigment responsible for natural hair colour, by nourishing hair follicles.
Herbal Remedies:
For millennia, people have utilised herbs to prevent greying and encourage healthy hair. Popular choices comprise:
Amla (Indian Gooseberry): Amla, a rich source of antioxidants and vitamin C, promotes hair growth and preserves the colour of hair.
Bhringraj: Bhringraj oil or powder, which is well-known for its rejuvenating effects, can help darken grey hair and enhance the texture of all hair types.
Rosemary: This fragrant plant promotes hair growth and pigmentation by increasing blood flow to the scalp.
Regular Scalp Massages: Blood flow to hair follicles can be improved by gently massaging your scalp with natural oils like coconut, almond, or castor oil. Increased blood flow aids in delivering vital nutrients to your hair, promoting the development of melanin, and maybe lowering the amount of grey hair over time.
Stress Management: Stress-reduction measures should be used regularly because stress might cause premature greying. Take part in enjoyable pursuits like meditation, yoga, or hobbies. having vibrant hair also heavily depends on getting enough sleep and having a healthy work-life balance.
Henna Treatment: For millennia, hair has been dyed with henna, a natural dye made from the Lawsonia plant. The result is a vivid reddish-brown colour on grey hair that is safe and chemical-free. Regular henna treatments can hide grey hair and give your hair a beautiful shine. Although accepting ageing gracefully is a lovely decision, if you want to reverse grey hair, these natural solutions can be of assistance. Keep in mind that individual factors may affect the results, so be patient and persistent in your chosen strategy. To support the vitality and lustre of your hair, put an emphasis on a healthy lifestyle, a nutrient-rich food, and these natural hair care techniques. You can appreciate the journey back to your youth if you put effort and care into it. https://anahataorganic.com/5-ways-to-reverse-grey-hair/
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Multi-tasking Turmeric Hydrating Face Toner!
A versatile root known for its therapeutic benefits, Turmeric has been used for millennia. It is not only a tasty cooking ingredient, but it also offers lots of skin-friendly properties. The health and look of your skin may be improved naturally and successfully by usingturmeric face toner. AMVital presents a mild turmeric toner for dark spots made of ginger root extract, rosemary, vitamin C, aloe, chamomile, licorice, and powdered turmeric that work together to deliver skin exfoliation. It is brimming with vitamins, minerals, and other ingredients that may hydrate, renew, and protect the skin. Here is all the information you want on turmeric face toner.
Added Skin Benefits from Turmeric Toner
A versatile and all-natural ingredient, turmeric face toner may be used to enhance the health and look of your skin. Thanks to its anti-inflammatory, brightening, anti-aging, exfoliating, moisturizing, and antioxidant effects, you may use it to treat various skin issues. It is a secure and healthy substitute for skincare products that include chemicals and is simple to add to your everyday skincare regimen. It can assist in hydrating and renewing your skin, whether you use it as a face mask, a mild exfoliator, or a bath additive. Incorporating turmeric into your diet may help your general health and the health of your skin. Hence, its advantages go beyond topical applications.
Anti-Inflammatory Attributes
Curcumin-containing substances found in Turmeric have anti-inflammatory effects. This makes it a successful therapy for inflammatory skin problems, including eczema, acne, and psoriasis. These substances can help reduce skin redness, puffiness, and inflammation. Various substances lessen the redness, itching, and discomfort associated with various skin disorders by inhibiting the generation of pro-inflammatory cytokines and enzymes that cause inflammation.
Glowing Effect
Turmeric Face Toner can make the skin seem more radiant and toned evenly. This is because Turmeric includes substances that can aid in lowering the synthesis of melanin, the pigment responsible for skin color. Melanocytes, cells found in the skin, are responsible for producing melanin. Uneven skin tone, dark patches, and pigmentation might result from excessive melanin synthesis. Ginger extract in the toner can lessen the degree of pigmentation by preventing melanin synthesis.
Anti-aging Effects
By promoting collagen formation in the skin, licorice extract in the turmeric toner can help diminish the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. Collagen is a protein that maintains skin supple and tight, but as we get older, less of it is produced, which causes wrinkles and fine lines to appear. Compounds in Turmeric toner dark spot eraser can encourage the creation of collagen, keeping the skin appearing young and wrinkle-free.
Exfoliation Properties
In order to exfoliate dead skin cells and expose smoother, brighter skin, chamomile and ginger root extract can be used as mild exfoliators. The buildup of dead skin cells on the skin's surface can make it appear lifeless and drab. By removing these old skin cells, you can see the young, fresh skin cells underlying. A mild facial scrub made of ginger, honey, and turmeric powder can be used to exfoliate the skin.
Turmeric Toner For Dark Spots
Reduced pigmentation and black patches on the skin can be achieved using turmeric toner. As previously noted, ginger powder can aid in lowering melanin synthesis, which can cause pigmentation and dark patches. Ginger powder can assist in balancing out skin tone and make the skin appear more young and vibrant by eliminating pigmentation.
Antioxidant characteristics
Antioxidants, chemicals that may harm the skin and speed up aging, are abundant in turmeric toner and can help protect it from the detrimental effects of free radicals. Antioxidants assist in scavenging free radicals and protecting the skin from harm. The Turmeric face toner may be applied to the skin in various ways. You can make a paste with ginger powder, honey, and turmeric powder or as an addition to a face mask. You may also add it to the water in your bath for a calming and revitalizing soak.
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♀ I Mentally Summon My African Hindoo [MAH = MAYAN] Indian Magick ‘cause of My Biblically Black [Ancient] Bloodlines of Multi EThnocentrically [E.T.] Black American Spirit [BAS = ORISHA] Ancestry that BEE So Prehistorically FUTURISTIC as I Magically Invoke ALL Our Dark Occult Spirits of Underworld Hell Frequencies [UHF] I Algorithmically Formulate from My HIGHLY Functional Pineal Gland of Egyptian [G.E.] Pigmentation Energy [P.E.] MELanin of Youthful Enhancement [YE = YESHU] Energies ♀
#U.S. Michael Harrell#U.S. King TUT of Celestial Atlantis [CA]#I Mentally Summon My African Hindoo [MAH = MAYAN] Indian Magick ‘cause of My Biblically Black [Ancient] Bloodlines#My Biblically Black [Ancient] Bloodlines of Multi EThnocentrically [E.T.] Black American Spirit [BAS = ORISHA] Ancestry#U.S. Double Black White House Illuminati#I Magically Invoke ALL Our Dark Occult Spirits of Underworld Hell Frequency [UHF] Signal Intel#MU of Lost Atlantis [L.A.]#Shadow Government Illuminati#My HIGHLY Functional Pineal Gland of Egyptian [G.E.] Pigmentation Energy [P.E.] MELanin of Youthful Enhancement [YE = YESHU] Energies#Melanin Millennia#Santeria Gods of Melanin#Inner Earth’s Astronomically Black Cosmos of Dark [ABCD] Constellation Matter [ISIS MELanin]#Inner Earth’s Plutonium Belt Nebula [MELanin]#Manuscripts of Suprachiasmatic Nuclei [Supernovae MELanin]#Our Most Primordial Carbon 13 Nuclei [Cosmic MELanin] of Infinity#INNER Black Photon Belt Nebula [Cosmic MELanin] of Pulsating Emission Intel#My Golden Black California Afterlife [CA] Illuminati of Lost Atlantis [L.A.]#My Native Afro Supernatural Ancestors [NASA] of California Afterlife [CA] ILLUMINATION Energies#Compton’s Most Wanted GHETTO JESUS of SIRIUS Black Christ [B.C.] Bloodline Magick#My INNER El Cristo Rey [LORD] Bloodlines of El Cristo Negro [Black Christ = B.C. = GHETTO JESUS] Fame BEE So Religiously Crucified#My Esquipulas [ME = U.S. Michael Harrell = TUT = JAH] Icon of A Reincarnated Black Christ [B.C. = Orisha Èsù = Yoruba Eshu] Prophet [JESUS]#I Spiritually Enact My Esquipulas [ME = U.S. Michael Harrell = TUT = JAH] Icon#Compton’s Most Wanted Archangel [M.W.A.] Michael
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The ask game seems fun !
Miraak and Jia : 👀👥🤚
Ohh, thank you so much for the ask!!! 🥰🥰🥰
Miraak & Jia:
👀 What is the first physical feature people notice when they see your OC? Why?
I think for Miraak, the first thing someone notices is his height. As an Atmoran, he is taller even than the tallest Altmer, and in my headcanon, he is much taller than six feet; I imagine him nearly seven feet tall. Aside from that, Atmorans have quite robust and hardy physiques as they are Nords' progenitors but not necessarily way too bulky and muscular. So, Miraak has a very broad sternum and shoulders and strong long legs, so one cannot simply avoid goggling at his full-bodied existence 😂. Of course, at the beginning of his life back in Nirn, many notice the disturbing Daedric mark of Mora as well, but in my fic, this shall change soon enough. 😌 As for Jia now, I believe the first thing someone would notice about her is her eyes. For reasons I won't spoil, Jia's eyes reflect the light. Is it the sunlight or moonlight or both, or the light of something else, or all of the above, I won't tell yet, but the woman has golden eyes, quite different from her mother's, which were hazel and more human; Jia's are unique and maintain something divine. 👀
👤 What is your OC’s skin like? Is it unblemished, or are they prone to breakouts? Do they have any scars, tattoos, or other skin markings? Does their skin tend to be sensitive to things that get on it (lotions, cleaning products, etc.)?
Miraak's skin was pale from birth. Long before he became corrupted with ink, he had milky skin like Jia's, but after he got exposed to Oblivion's mark, his skin evolved into pure marble-white color, much like a snow elf's skin color would be. He has scars along his torso caused by his last battle with Vahlok and a deep sword-like mark beneath his ribcage rendered by Vahlok's lethal blow. Miraak's skin is not so sensitive to anything; on the contrary, it is relatively rugged, potent, and thick, mostly because he is an Atmoran and his race once maintained a natural resistance to hardships caused by manual labor. As for Jia, her skin is also very pale, and due to her lack of melanin, her cheekbones, nose, and forehead are full of reddish freckles! She has freckles on her body too, specifically on her shoulders and arms, neck, upper chest, and down her back. Her skin is not too much sensitive to something in particular, but it has a tendency to sunburn as it is so pale. And now that I'm thinking about it, Miraak may have the same problem too. 🤔
✋ Are your OC’s hands smooth, rough, or average? Why? How do they keep their nails? Do they bite them, paint them, neatly trim them, et cetera?
Miraak's hands are the hands of a mage. So, the inside of his palms, where his forceful spells are charged, is quite calloused and rough from his early age when he realized his affinity for sorcery and began his training. He has long but not-so-slender fingers, and his knuckles are also calloused. They weren't always like this; they became as such after millennia of wearing his gloves, and so the hard, age-old leather spoiled his skin.
As for Jia, her hands are not smooth either, and they are most likely rougher than Miraak's. Aside from her frequent use of weapons, like swords or bows, Jia is also a caster, so her palms are pretty similar to Miraak's: calloused and rough. But Jia's biggest flaw in her personality is her self-loathing and destructiveness which she expresses through her skin-picking habits. She does not bite her nails, per se, but the skin around them, mostly in her thumbs, middle and pinky fingers, is scarred and, most of the time, blooded. It is a common cause for arguing with Miraak, who always tries his best to make her stop destroying herself in such a way.😌
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The principal dinosaurs of the plains, whether hunted and domesticated by halflings since time immemorial. All of these dinosaurs, of the medium to small, unadorned and ornithopod variety, are called fastieth. Dryosaurs are the most famous fastieth, known for their use as steeds by the tribal halflings. Unlike Camptosaurus, Dryosaurus utilizes speed as their primary defense against predators. This, coupled with their striped tails, makes a herd of dryosaurs running zig-zaggedly across each other's paths hard on the eyes and obscures them from predators. Dryosaurs live in relatively large, 100-150 member, horse-like herds with a small group of breeding males and many females and youngsters. Lesser males usually trail behind. These fastieth live in the wide brushy basin year-round, but can also be found in the forests. Forest dryosaurs are smaller, less social, but also faster. Despite their speed, dryosaurs are not very agile and cannot jump high. In the wild they run parallel to one another in straight lines as defense against predators.
These fastieth have been domesticated by halflings for millennia and are incredibly ingrained into their society. Wild ones are not hunted as often as camptosaurs and rarely bred due to their jumpy tendencies. Halfling religion, a mixture of animism and animal worship, contains many references to the dryosaurs and treats them like the "other half" of the hunter. They are treated with honor, and killing one, even for practical purposes, is very taboo. It's even believed that the halfling hunting mask is specifically designed to look unthreatening and friendly to their saurian mounts. Other races find them too small to ride, but a small riders club in Zilargo, populated by gnomes, has gained in popularity ever since the Last War's end.
Dryosaurs produce their green coloration with two different coloration systems: both yellow and blue (cyan) pigment cells. How many blue pigments they produce depends on the amount of water they drink. This means during the dry season they produce very little blue, making them yellow, while in the wet season they produce a lot of blue, making them green, and allowing them to blend in with the lush ferns. Because of this, domesticated dryosaurs range from bright green to cyan. Recent breeding has even produced pastel blue mounts. Their dark masks are harder to select for when breeding as they are an ancient trait (the exception being the piebald morph popular in Zilargo). Selecting for and against stripes is easier, as there is a lot of variation in wild dryosaurs. Normally they have light stripes on only their tail, but forest dryosaurs have dark melanin stripes.
Depicted above is a typical wild fastieth and the most common breed of domesticated fastieth used by the Talenta. As well as a piebald variant found only in cosmopolitan breeding circles in Zilargo.
#dinosaur#paleoart#dryosaurus#fastieth#eberron#talenta plains#the talenta plains#talenta#d&d#dnd#Dungeons and Dragons#ecology#world building
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Hello, I'm writing a fantasy world where there are very long days and nights. In one part of the world is a mountainous desert where there are two tribes of people - one comes out during the day, and one comes out at night. The natural conclusion is that the nocturnal tribe will have white skin, while the diurnal tribe will have black skin.
Here's my problem - I don't want my story to be a reflection on African culture. I'm operating solely by the rule of cool. But I'm worried that people would read my story and think that the diurnal mountain tribe is meant to be an imitation of African culture. Is there anything that can be done about this? Or should I just put up with it, and maybe leave a disclaimer at the front?
Utuabzu: Well, first up one question you need to ask yourself is: do these tribes intermarry? If yes, then they're going to look pretty similar. If no, then how long have they avoided doing so? If it's only been a short time (a couple centuries) and they have common ancestors then they'll still look similar. If it's been a few millennia then yes, it is quite plausible that they have different skin tones and general environmental adaptations. If it's been hundreds of thousands of years or millions, then speciation may occur.
Next, if you're worried about an accidental pastiche of African cultures (and there are thousands of cultures in Africa, speaking thousands of languages), remember that there are many other dark-skinned ethnic groups in the world. Much can be suggested by the phonology of names, or by cultural and religious practices, and this can be some fun worldbuilding. Just try not to flanderise a different, non-African culture. If you're really worried about being offensive, I would suggest finding one or more sensitivity readers.
Feral: I am all for the Rule of Cool in worldbuilding. But as you have rightly guessed, having a white/black binary in skin tone can cause some unfortunate implications which are 100% not cool. While it’s true that white people evolved to have less melanin than our ancestors, it’s worth knowing why that evolution took place and the importance of sunlight for human beings. Your “natural conclusion” is not actually all that natural because humans evolving to be entirely nocturnal would massively change their biology and physiology in a lot more ways than just skin color, especially affecting the morphologies of the eye and ear and how energy is gained and consumed. Obviously, as this is fantasy, these might be peoples of a fantasy race, but consider as you are building that race what other effects nocturnality would have on its development, so that way it’s not just a skin tone question. (At the same time, I would also steer clear of pairing skin tone with other racialized features.)
Beyond that and Utuabzu’s recommendations on worldbuilding, I would just caution you to not have any kind of civilized/savage or good/evil binaries on top of your dirunal/nocturnal white/black binaries, and to make it clearly that while these two skin tones are what exist among the people right in this specific location, skin tones vary across the whole world.
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Peace and Love, Black Family!
Some of our ancestors decided that their lives were BETTER IN DEATH THAN IN LIFE! In the Yoruba tradition, as well as other AfRaKan traditional religions, death, or transition from one level of existence to another, is well accepted as part of life. So when our ancestors were given the choice of LIFE as slaves or the freedom of DEATH, they chose the latter.
Today in 2022 and beyond, we have choices too! We can choose LIFE as modern day slaves, or we can choose DEATH as free unapologetic revolutionaries of AfRaKan people! We live in a social order that continues to disregard who we are, what we’ve done, and what we’ve been through!
Why would they?
Colonized people mean nothing to colonizers, so what we do today determines who and what we will become in decades, centuries, and millennia. We must do more to secure our future survival or die a daily life of shame & degradation!
GET ON CODE. STAY ON CODE.🩸💣🔫✊🏾 BLACK POWER! #black #power #love #man #woman #ancestors #african #melanin #blackhistory #revolutionary #the #sea #atlantic #slave #fight #freedom #or #death #malikismindful
#panafrican#knowledge#truth#blackowned#power#african#blackman#blacklove#blackconsciousness#blackempowerment#blackwoman#blackpower#blackpeople#blackrevolution#blackunity#blacknationalism#blackqueen#blackrevolutionary#blacksunite#malikismindful
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The Pale King aka "Shiro"
My reimaging of PK in his AU still have supernatural origins since I wanted to include his ability to reincarnate himself. This trait is basically what molded his whole personality, being both a blessing and a curse. I was also partly inspired by main character of the novel Every Day (by David Levithan), A. Read that book , it's really good.
In this AU, Pale King's origins are not really known, even he can't explain his first birth. He lived for so long he barely remembers how he came to this world. One constant thing he knows is that he reincarnates himself to another body after he dies. Every time he does, he retains his previous memories on his last body and some of his supernatural powers like really vague foresight and ability to utilize soul to heal himself. His memories have a limit only to the most recent, the older the memory, the more difficult it is for him to remember the details. He can't recall most of his 1st life's parents anymore, everytime to thinks about it all that comes out is a blank hole in his mind, something he is constantly annoyed by.
He himself don't understand the origins of his powers, just that he learned to manipulate and manifest soul sometime during his 3rd and 4th life. He may be an intellectual and scientist by heart, but even he is stumped at the logic, or lack of logic of how Soul works.
When the cycle starts again, he learned to follow set of rules and protocols to avoid getting unwanted attention. This rules was only developed after multiple groups learned of his reincarnations and started trying to hunt him down. One group in particular intends to study his "immortality", hoping to gain it for themselves. So far he avoided detection for 10 lifetimes, but he is not risking the chances anytime soon.
This guy is really old mentally, practically more than a millennia old. But his current body is a young adult or on their late teens.
PK don't exactly have a permanent name, his name keeps changing every reincarnation. Usually he just refers to himself as a Pale Being because of his white hair when he gets older, the pale glow whenever he uses his supernatural powers and the word "Being" refers to both male and female. But his current reincarnation is a young adult named Shiro. Other names in his past life are Ethan, Ashley, Mary, Giorge, Oruk, Anu, etc.
He is not always reborn a guy though, some of his past lives were as a female. If he's not careful, he will swaps his own gender pronouns mid conversations cause he is so used to being both genders that he does not even bother anymore.
His foresight though, is a huge headache for him and he does not always depend on it. He doesn't look at a single future, but all possible future's at once. The best comparison would be looking at huge wall displayed with different televisions, and each screen shows a different show. At worst his visions would start to blur to his actual sight resulting to him having hallucinations, he would need decipher if what he is currently looking at is the present object or a speckle of it's future.
His hair is also not born white. Every time he is reborn, his hair starts as the natural color of his birthparents, but it starts to loose melanin as he grows until his hair becomes completely pale white when he reaches mid to late adulthood. Usually he would die his hair when this starts to happen to avoid getting noticed.
Over his many life times, He developed an apathetic and cynical view of the life, and starts to feel numb and bored to the repetitive world. This inadvertently makes him appears cold, distant and rude to people.
This calm coldness is often seen as arrogance, but he never engages in fights unless he is provoked, or if the other demands a duel. He won all of his fights though with ease due to his supernatural origins and his thousand years worth of experience.
Others who are not offended by his cold attitude see him as very "cool" and admirable. He brings himself with confidence that is sometimes described as inhuman, like a war-veteran who saw everything. Shiro/PK is someone who always have a contingency plan and is prepared at all times like he experienced it. Cause he sort-of did.
The remaining see him as the most non emo-like Emo they know due to his solitary attitude and partly depressing remarks on life.
He very frank and direct to the point, often making acquaintances think he is unfriendly and serious.
In the past, he saw close friends age and die, got betrayed countless times, imprisoned for multiple reasons, saw cities built and destroyed due to different means, participated in wars, even experimented on by folks he trusted cause they are trying to find the secrets of his supposed immortality.
But the one that affected him the most was when he tried to stop a dangerous zombie virus he accidentally help create with his fellow scientist friend while finding a cure for cancer. That friend is one of the few people he trust to know about his reincarnations, and is very close to him.
That time he refused to kill his friend who got infected. Instead he contained his friend, hoping he can develop a cure in time but he was not fast enough. The virus to spread to the neighboring towns, then the country. The only way to stop the plague from spreading further was to quarantine the whole nation and nuke everything in it, including the surviving citizens who are asymptomatic carriers. This decision was made by the neighboring nations who banned together, while he is the only one who can developed a nuke big and strong enough to wipe out a whole country. That part of history is kept a secret from the public.
There is now a desert where that nation used to stand.
That memory haunted him to this day. He blame himself for getting too attached and hesitated to kill his friend before it was too late. He avoid getting too close to people ever since.
But if he trust you enough that he considers you a close friend, he can make a decent chat and share some of the absurd stuff he experienced in his past lives. Though it will be very hard for other's to fully understand what he is talking about as he have a very different understanding of the world.
That close circle of trusted friends is only limited to very few people.
His knowledge is still unparalleled and just huge, he is practically a genius. Being able to remember stuff as far back as his first life, but only the scientific and technological stuff. Anything else is blank.
But he can remember how bread was first invented, metal ore was first mined and used, herbal medicines and other forbidden stuff that is lost to history, amongst others.
That vast knowledge is a bane for his social life. He just can't share his peers enthusiasm on something he already know, acting like an old man than a regular teenager. Even during adulthood his view of the world sets him apart with his colleagues who sometimes can't understand him, resulted in Shiro feeling very alone in the world.
He sometimes envy's the "mortals" who can be happy on learning new things, live simple but curious while he had already mastered it 100 years ago.
Until he came across the Void, a black anti-matter like substance that no one can explain. It is very lethal to people and have killed nearly all of the scientist and explorers who went close. The deep abyss pit that houses the void is uninhabitable, except the very few simple-minded creatures who have adapted to surviving within it's proximity, but never stayed within 30 meter radius to the Void pool.
In thousands of years, he came across something he have no knowledge of. The return of that sense of curiosity and discovery makes him feel so alive again in his lonely existence that he became obsessed with knowing more and studying the Void. Doing mad experiments and using himself as the test subject, just so he can have that feeling of curiosity again.
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Not a request 🤟🏽😔I just wanted to say sometimes being brown really just be making me sad and self conscious especially when everyone loves white skin in our culture/most cultures and they look down on us. It’s tuff sometimes always being hated 🥺
I hear you baby, it’s hard and i’m sorry that society and culture has failed you (all of us) in letting you know how beautiful your brown is. it’s not you, it’s them. it’s tough but you’re strong for being you every day. i can’t undo a millennia of racism and colorsism, but just know your skin is right. it deserves to be celebrated. if you don’t hear it anywhere else, know that I love you and that especially includes your melanin
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Earth Angel
In which Crowley accidently miracles a love song for Aziraphale
Read on AO3 | Listen to the song for context
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Crowley didn’t spend much time across the pond. Didn’t matter much whether he wanted to or not. The fact was that he didn’t need to. Ever since the colonies broke off and forged their own path ahead (a path that was quite destructive to anything and anyone that wasn’t an ex-settler), they had done quite the good job of spreading evil into the world themselves.
For Hell’s sake, the Americans were doing Satan proud with their segregation laws. Dehumanizing people because of how much melanin was in their skin. Crowley thought it would be a real kick to let them all know that Adam and Eve had been black, but his lot probably wouldn’t be too happy with the miracle it would’ve taken to convince these stubborn Yanks that he was telling the truth. He didn’t much feel like outing himself as the demon that caused humanity to fall anyways.
Still, he wasn’t in much of a mood to be partaking in these backwards American habits, much like how he wasn’t all that interested in involving himself in the horror of the previous World War. Minus, of course, a small dip in with his angel friend. So he found himself in the most progressive diner in Los Angeles which wasn’t saying much with the segregated seating, bathrooms, and drinking fountains. 1954 America was a mess, and Crowley couldn’t wait to get out of it.
He wouldn’t even be having nearly as bad of a time if Aziraphale were here. But no, Crowley had lost the coin flip, and as their Arrangement stated, he was the one to go to America on both their behalves. It’s not that he hated the country. Rather it was a case of the wrong place at the wrong time. He actually appreciated the American spirit with their rowdiness and party-going nature. It’s just he wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it.
The location hardly helped either. Los Angeles of all places: the closest Earth had to a Hell of its own and the one place that literally translates to “The Angels.” Wasn’t he already homesick enough? He had a right mind to think this was all some sick practical joke She was playing on him. As if She hadn’t tormented him enough these past 6000 years with Aziraphale.
He didn’t even really understand what he was supposed to be doing over here. Something about inspiring a witch hunt, but that nonsense had burned out centuries ago. He would’ve thought it was just another case of Hell being behind the times, but they threw in some major keywords that’d shown up on almost every newspaper he came across. Some dickhead named McCarthy and this looming “Red Scare.” As far as Crowley could tell, nothing about the States seemed all that red or all that scary, but humans always made a bigger fuss of things than he did.
“Can I get you anything, dear?” A waitress pulled him out of his self-pity session. “Coffee perhaps? Or well, I guess you folks are more fond of tea, aren’t you?”
“Coffee’s fine.” He gave her a wide smile that all but added on: Now, go away.
Truth be told, Crowley didn’t feel much like socializing with humans, well, ever, but specifically not today. What was the point of chatting any of them up when their short life spans meant they could croak before you’d get a chance to finish your thought?
Really, he wanted to head back to his hotel room and sleep until this McCarthy guy did something evil enough for him to be able to go home. And that’s exactly what he would’ve done if it wasn’t for the simple fact that he had to handle Aziraphale’s miracle as well.
Do general goodness. That was it. That was all he had to go off of. When he had expressed his annoyance to Aziraphale, he had just shrugged and said that sometimes it was about finding where miracles were needed rather than where they’d be the most profitable.
Couldn’t he have given him any tips? For Satan’s sake, he was a demon after all. Picking out where good was needed wasn’t exactly his expertise. Sure, he hadn’t asked Aziraphale for advice, but a demon would think after 6 millennia he wouldn’t need to.
So he was stuck in this sorry excuse for a place to grab a bite, surrounded by these no-good Americans for Aziraphale. Er, well not for Aziraphale. For their Arrangement. Which he purely posed for self-gain and not at all because he wanted a reason to see the angel more. Not at all that.
He was making a bigger fuss out of all this than he should have, and he knew this. Finding someone in desperate need of a miracle wasn’t all that hard. He could probably walk in any direction for less than a minute and find some poor homeless bastard that would consider even a week’s worth of wages to be the greatest miracle they could receive. Everyone needed something after all.
The problem was that Crowley was quite good at lying to himself. Well, not good at it. He had been failing to lie to himself about his feelings towards Aziraphale since the beginning of time itself. So deep down, he knew his difficulty with providing a miracle had absolutely nothing to do with him being a demon or with the company he found himself around. It actually had everything to do with the fact that he wanted to impress his angel. THE angel. Impress the angel. Not his.
It was quite the internal conflict. His feelings of course, but also deciding on a miracle. What he wanted to do was snap his fingers and end this whole racism thing, but even if Hell didn’t figure out it was him that did it, Heaven would be pretty pissed at Aziraphale for abusing his powers. A bunch of bollocks, wasn’t it? That an angel could cause too much good. How stupid did that sound?
No, he had to find a way to do something that would make Aziraphale beam without completely redesigning this awful country. Something that would make Aziraphale look at him the same way he had back in 1941 after Crowley had saved his books. It was a once in a lifetime look -- well, a once in a 6000 years look -- that Crowley really wanted to see again.
Maybe he would just drown himself at a bar and start fresh tomorrow. It’s not like the atmosphere was doing him any good. The air was just not putting him in a good mood tonight.
Usually, that had never mattered. Aziraphale could make a war zone enjoyable. Not that Aziraphale was required for him to have a good time. But it did help. Or no, it didn’t. He got along perfectly fine on his own. Aziraphale was completely optional, and Crowley couldn’t care whether he was there or not! Yeah, couldn’t care less.
“Oi, hun!” he called to the waitress. “Why don’t you make that coffee something a bit stronger, yeah?”
The waitress gave him a nod and ducked into the kitchen.
Crowley sat up in his booth. Enough of the internal sob story. There had to be someone here that needed a miracle, right? The next Charles Dickens, or more likely the next Mark Twain, that he could help along on their path towards success. Aziraphale had been really fond of him throwing Shakespeare a bone back in the day, so he just needed a modern day literary genius he could do the same thing with. Simple.
The diner was a lot more lively than when he came in. He must have been lost in thought for quite a while. Businessmen sat at the counter reading newspapers with cancer sticks smoking from their lips. Crowley did wonder when humans were going to figure out that cigarettes weren’t all that healthy. Influencing them into breaking bad habits would count as a miracle but that was hardly all that special.
A group of teens were tucked into the corner, drinking milkshakes. What could he do for them? Help them with their homework? Point them in the direction of a good college? Yeah, boring. Wasn’t going to work.
Four young men sat over in the segregated section having a rather intense conversation. The two guys closest to the door were leaned over the table. One of them tapped on it as he spoke. Crowley figured a bit of eavesdropping couldn’t hurt. Plus, it was in his nature with the whole demon thing.
“Okay, how about this? It’s you, you, you my dear. Always been you-ou-ou.”
The one across from him shook his head. “Too much like The Ames Brothers. We need our unique sound.”
The first man sat back down against the seat, and the guy next to him spoke up. “Duncan, it’s not like either of us know that much about love. We both had, what? One date for all the school dances we went to back at Fremond?”
“But love songs are what’s popping. What the people wanna here!” The man now known as Duncan replied.
Crowley rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window. Funny that humans thought they knew anything about love when he still hasn’t figured it out in the whole time humanity has existed. Maybe they did know more about it than him. They had a good 60 or 70 years to figure it out before they’d have to deal with never knowing. Maybe that made all the pins click into place quicker.
He, on the other hand, wasn’t on much of a time restraint. Sure, there was the whole End of the World thing Hell was so dead set on rolling into action, but if he had to guess, that wasn’t going to occur for another millennium or two. Not really the same as a human that barely gets used to the world around them before needing to figure out the whole love thing.
All he knew was that he was indeed capable of feeling love which was something he didn’t know he could say about the other demons. If he couldn’t feel love, then why the Hell did Aziraphale make him–
Nope. That thought ends there. Not entertaining that at all. He was not going to think about any of that. Not about their first meeting in Eden where Aziraphale had surprised him not only by giving away his flaming sword but by also telling him about it. Or about how Aziraphale was the only angel in all of Heaven that seemed just the tad bit concerned about drowning the human race. Or-or even about the little things like the bashful smile he’d oftentimes wear on his face. Or how his fun hobby of book collecting had turned into a full blown obsession. Or how he straight up refused to modernize because God damn it he had found something he liked and was going to stick with it. Of course, Aziraphale would never put it that way. Blasphemy and all. But the point still stands! And even just the way Aziraphale says his name. It was enough to make him forget he was a demon at times. And oh, oh in the name of Lucifer. He didn’t just do that, did he?
“Guys, if I haven’t just had a stroke of genius!” Now Duncan was the one leaned over the table.
One of the four passed by Crowley on the way back to his group. “What’s buzzing, cousin?” he asked, taking a seat.
“Got the song and it’s a real good one,” Duncan replied.
“Let’s hear it then.”
Just a coincidence. Surely he didn’t.
“Earth angel, earth angel.”
Fuck.
“Will you be mine?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“My darling dear. Love you all the time.”
“Hold up, Duncan. Let me write this down. It’s gold. The Penguins are going international!”
Yes, he had done it then. He had just accidentally miracled a love song. And an all too personal love song at that. God’s really got it out for him, doesn’t She?
If Aziraphale was here he surely would’ve said that Crowley’s mistaken miracle was ineffable, and if Crowley wasn’t too busy trying to conceal his embarrassment, he would’ve sneered in response because of course that’s what Aziraphale would say.
But the angel wasn’t here, and Crowley instead promptly left a wad of cash on his table and got up to leave. He’d most certainly overpaid, but who could be bothered to figure out American currency when the Americans couldn’t even be bothered to figure out equality? He’d count it as Aziraphale’s miracle anyway. The waitress could probably do with a bit of extra money.
As he left the diner, Duncan continued, “I’m just a fool. A fool in love with you.”
The door slammed behind him. Surely he had nothing to worry about. Yeah, he had accidentally given away 6000 years worth of secret emotions as inspiration to this band of musicians, but on the other hand, he had never even heard of The Penguins. They’d become a local phenomenon at best. Whatever this song was, it wasn’t going any further than Los Angeles. Definitely not past California.
He’d keep Aziraphale out of the whole country until the turn of the millennium just to play it safe. He’d rig their coin flips for future American assignments if he had to. As much as he wasn’t fond of coming back any time soon, he hated the idea of Aziraphale finding out about this song all the more.
He’d just blacklist the whole western hemisphere. Didn’t exist to him. Really, he didn’t even have to be this extreme! The song was NOT going to be popular!
*
When “Earth Angel” came out that following October, it definitely didn’t stay local. By the following year, all of America was spitting out Crowley’s love song. The Penguins were happy with their first, and to be only, Top 40 hit, but Crowley sure wasn’t.
It was an absolute nightmare, and though the song was still mostly American-based, Crowley had no plans of facing Aziraphale until he was sure it was dead. He’d wait another century if he had to, and perhaps he would have if the angel hadn’t approached him first in 1967.
When Aziraphale left him with a thermos full of holy water in his Bentley with the words: “you go too fast for me” still crisp in the air, Crowley wondered if he had heard the song after all. Even if he had, he wasn’t planning on asking.
Flash forward 42 years. The Antichrist was born. The End of the World came and sputtered out before it could really begin. An angel and a demon got comfortable in each other’s skin and were now faced with the rest of their lives without any sort of guidance. And when faced with infinite choices, they chose to continue what they already had been doing. 6000 years makes any habit hard to break.
While Aziraphale had always loved the Earth, he found himself appreciating it all the more post Armeggedon’t. Although it had been two months since Adam had quite literally told Satan that he wasn’t his real dad, it might as well have been yesterday as far as the angel was concerned. Two months was hardly a lot of time when one has seen the rise and fall of civilizations.
In his reawakened joy of the world, Aziraphale found himself outside his bookshop more often. The blues of the sky were brighter. The giggling of children was all the more heartwarming. Even the crisp, cool air of autumn felt refreshing. The Great Plan had been weighing him down for some time without him realizing it, and now, that weight was finally gone.
And after his and Crowley’s stunt, he was more-or-less free to do as he wanted. No more waiting to hear word from Above. Yes, Heaven likely wouldn’t leave him alone forever as Hell wouldn’t with Crowley, but for the time being they were radio silent. The freedom strangely felt more heavenly than Heaven itself.
The park was exceptionally lovely with the birds singing up in the treetops and the few remaining bees buzzing from blossom to blossom. He watched one particular bumblebee lazily land on a hydrangea.
If Crowley was here, he would have made some off hand remark about how he couldn’t remember whether they were yellow with black stripes or black with yellow ones. Aziraphale would’ve told him that he was thinking of zebras, and Crowley would say but they don’t have a hint of yellow on them. Instead of further clarifying that what he meant was that zebras were the ones with confusion about their base color and not bees, he would say quite right, dear boy and they’d keep on walking. But Crowley wasn’t with him today.
They had spent a lot of time together since the End of the World that Wasn’t. Hardly a day went by where Aziraphale didn’t see the demon. Other than when raising Warlock, which hardly counted because they couldn’t be themselves, they had never spent so much time together. It wasn’t uncommon for years to go by in between their visits. Perhaps the past eleven years had made him used to it. Aziraphale found himself quite fond of the recent companionship.
He smiled a half somber sort of smile to himself as he left the bumblebee. Crowley would also say that this whole garden needed a good thrashing looking the way it does. And Aziraphale would remind him that it was fall after all and this is what happened to plants in the fall.
Crowley was to be seeing him this evening where they’d clink a few glasses in the back of his bookshop. Still, Aziraphale wished that they had decided to spend this afternoon together as well. He did enjoy Crowley’s commentary on things. In fact, he had been enjoying everything about Crowley. Maybe now with how things were, that was okay.
Now that he wasn’t under the pressure to behave like a proper angel, he could pay a bit more attention to those feelings that had been swirling much more violently within him for the past 78 years. He and Crowley were on their own side now. There was no longer any ifs, ands, or buts about it. They only had each other to depend upon for the rest of eternity. Maybe this should have been a scary thought to Aziraphale, and not too long ago, it probably would have been, but now, it was more of a comfort than anything else. The rest of existence with Crowley was hardly a bad thing.
When he really looked back on it, Crowley had been the only one there for him in all his time on Earth. Whether he needed rescuing to keep his miracle numbers to quota or someone’s company over lunch, Crowley had oftentimes been there. He couldn’t say that about his fellow angels. Whenever he had seen them, it was strictly business. Crowley had proven himself as a friend, and although Aziraphale had denied it in the past, they were friends. And perhaps there was more to it than that.
There had to be a reason he would find himself lost staring at Crowley’s face or found himself taking a quick glance to the demon to read his thoughts on the situation. A reason for why he chose to sit beside him at a table rather than across from him. Why he’d catch himself smiling at the sight of Crowley without meaning to. The demon meant an awful lot to him. That much was certain. But how much. Now, that was an actual scary thought to think.
“...angel. The one I adore. Love you forever and ever more.”
Well, that most certainly brought him back to his stroll in the park. What was, that is, who sang that? At such a—such an odd moment no less! He turned back to the source.
An eldery couple sat on a bench. A man holding a woman’s hands. He continued singing. “I’m just a fool. A fool in love with you.”
Aziraphale cautiously approached them and, seeing that they were at a break in the song, spoke up. “Excuse me. I’d hate to interrupt such an intimate moment, but please, what is that song?”
The woman turned to him. “Oh, this was the song we met to. I was on holiday in America. Went to a party and this lovely man asked me to dance.” She kissed the singer on the cheek.
“Why that’s very lovely.” Aziraphale fumbled with his hands. “But what’s the name of the song? When-when did it come out?”
The man answered him this time. “‘Earth Angel’ by The Penguins. Was early on in their career because they never wrote a song like that again. Although I may be a bit biased.” He glanced to the woman and back. “Couldn’t have come out earlier than 1954 though. That’s when we met.”
“1954. America. Earth angel…” Aziraphale replied, becoming rather lost in thought. “Yes, thank you.”
As he walked away, the older gentleman picked his serenade back up. “I fell for you and I knew… The vision of your love-loveliness. I hoped and I pray that someday… I’ll be the vision of your hap-happiness!”
Just a coincidence, obviously. That—that this song would be sung as he passed by. And that this song would just so happen to have come into existence when Crowley was over in America. Just a coincidence that Crowley had been rather scarce on the details on what he had done over there even though he was usually a bit more thorough regarding the miracles he did on Aziraphale’s behalf. And it was nothing more than odd that he had been the one to next engage Crowley who then wouldn’t engage him again until the Antichrist was born. Just a strange set of events that only seemed to be related but weren’t.
He really wanted to believe that, but he was an angel, and when it was this obvious, he could tell when God had placed pieces in a certain order. It was entirely what he was thinking, and if he didn’t admit that it made his heart jump just the tiniest bit, well that would be a lie. Feeling were so much easier to admit when reciprocated.
*
Crowley met up with Aziraphale just like they planned. They had gone into the backroom where Crowley had noticed a new edition of a vintage record player. Odd, but he didn’t mention anything about it. Within the hour, he had completely forgotten all about it as he and Aziraphale finished off a bottle of Bordeaux wine.
“Crowley, I heard the strangest song today,” The angel said, swirling his glass.
“Really?” Alarms began to go off in the demon’s head although he didn’t exactly know why.
“Well, it was quite nice actually, but I found myself perhaps reading into it a bit much.”
“Yeah, how so?”
“You were in the States in the 50s, weren’t you? You were there for both of us.”
Ah, so that’s what the alarms were for. Crowley sat up, straightening his shirt. “I, uh, fail to see how that’s related.”
“This particular song is American and released a few months after your visit.”
“So?”
“I was wondering if you, perchance, had anything to do with its creation.”
Trapped. Completely and utterly trapped. Aziraphale had figured it out, and Crowley was not going to be able to talk his way out of this one. He needed some time. He hadn’t expected to ever actually have this conversation, and now, it was all moving too fast. Too fast, huh. Funny that.
“I uh hardly remember anything I did over there. America really was rubbish at the time. Just wanted to get our jobs done and leave.”
“It’s really sweet.”
“Say again?” He blinked rapidly. Fuck, where were his sunglasses when he needed them.
“The song. It’s really sweet.”
“Oh, then it must not have anything to do with me then.”
“I think that means it has everything to do with you.” Aziraphale smiled.
“Angel, how many times do I gotta tell you? Sweet, nice, good-hearted is absolutely as far from me as you get. I’m scary nightmare fuel. Black demon wings and snake eyes and—”
“Crowley, I love you too.”
That shut the demon up. In that short moment, Aziraphale’s heart fluttered, and he worried he’d gotten this whole thing wrong, and it really was a set of coincidences that led him here, but then Crowley spoke up.
“You really mean that? You’re not just throwing me some sympathy for making a fool out of myself?”
“Yes, I really mean that.”
Crowley stood up. A bit too quickly for the amount of alcohol in him, but he held his balance. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that, angel, since the dawn of time.”
Aziraphale stood as well. “So, are you going to say it back then?”
The demon stumbled over to his angel and pulled him into his arms, breathing onto the back of his neck. “I love you so goddamn much.”
“Language, dear,” Aziraphale replied, wrapping his arms around Crowley as well.
“Oh, shut it.”
They stood like that for a while. Perhaps only a few minutes or perhaps hours. Perhaps long enough for the world outside to have become completely new. Just holding one another and making up for 6000 years of never embracing. It was a still silence, but not that of an awkward variety. The kind of silence that is more comfortable than anything else. A silence that let’s one know they are exactly where they need to be. One where they’re free to melt into each other and become one and let souls entwine in a never-ending dance that’s stronger than any marital bond. It felt like hardly a moment had passed when they finally pulled away.
“The song then?” Aziraphale asked.
“Yeah.” Crowley stared into his angel’s face as if it was his whole world which was hardly a jump from the truth. “It was one of mine.”
“Oh, well, would you like to dance to it?”
“Dance to it?”
“Isn’t that what songs are for?” The softest smile painted Aziraphale’s face. “For dancing to?”
“Suppose.” He couldn’t help but return the smile. “Do you even know how to dance to a song like that?”
“Modern dances aren’t that complicated. Nothing like they once were. Isn’t it little more than swaying back and forth?”
“Angel, only you would call a song from the 50s modern.”
“Relatively speaking, it is. So would you like to? Dance that is.”
“S’pose.”
Aziraphale snapped his fingers and a record appeared on the player. The disc spun, and the song began to flow. The two grabbed onto one another once more.
“Funny that Shakespeare thought he knew what star-crossed lovers were.” Crowley swayed as he laid his head on top of Aziraphale’s. “Romeo and Juliet? Pah. I’d say we’re a better example.”
“We have a happier ending too,” Aziraphale hummed from the demon’s chest.
“Always been a bigger fan of the funny ones.”
And they were silent once more, listening to a song that was little more than a happy accident. An accident Crowley most certainly no longer regretted. Eternity really wasn’t all that scary anymore. If every day was like this, he’d be just fine. He fell back into the lyrics his heart had written for his angel 65 years earlier:
“Earth angel, earth angel
Please be mine
My darling dear
Love you all the time
I'm just a fool
A fool in love with you-ou (you, you, you)”
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Special thanks to my test readers:
@avuck @justkeeptrekkin @fandomens @booklover223
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