#SORRY I RUINED EVERYTHING BY SAYING IT OUT LOUD IT'S LITERALLY!!!!! CROWLEY !!!

[wet-paiint]

hi can we talk about how this is Literally them

[fairestwriting]

Hello Faire-san, can you please do a headcannon of GN! Yuu telling the other NRC staff that they’re more reliable and trustworthy adults than Crowley, even praising them while saying Crowley is not. Yuu’s only doing this just to troll Crowley. Please also add Crowley listening to their conversation and it’s up to you what’s his reaction be like. Thank you and stay safe.

stay safe you too! first staff post of the blog here we go. they dont have much of a personality ingame so this is more speculative than usual

Mozus Trein

Is genuinely better at working in school staff than Crowley.

He's always been teaching at NRC since forever, so when you come to him after class to deliver a late assignment, apologizing and explaining that the chores Crowley gave you kept you from finishing them in time, he immediately holds back the scolding.

"I'll have to deduct points from your grade, but I'll accept this." He says. Just as you sigh in relief he accepted your assignment, you notice Crowley peeking at the door.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Trein, I don't know what I would have done if you didn't accept it!" You make sure to keep your voice clear. "Ah, just between me and you, you're so much more responsible and understanding than Crowley, I'm glad to have such a reliable adult in this school."

Flattery doesn't really faze Trein, but he's happy you've found him trustworthy. "Of course." He just says, moving to pet his cat who rested on the table.

Outside, Crowley has his two bird (?) eyes so wide. Did he just lose to Trein? He's genuinely offended. He's reliable too, not to mention, a kind person, thank you very much.

"Ahem," He'll call for your attention as you leave the classroom, pretending not to see him. "Prefect! I noticed I accidentally gave you too many duties, so I decided to assign them to someone else, for I am gracious." He preens. "And very reliable too, right?"

(He just dumps everything on another random student. Crowley will never let his students like Trein more than him. That'd ruin his ego.)

Divus Crewel

Potions class was tough, and Crewel is tougher, his perfectionism hitting his students like bullets -- But he actually does mean well.

He's only strict because he wants you to achieve great things. And he's willing to help his students anytime they're in need, which was what happened to you today.

It's office hours, Crewel is explaining a recipe to you that you just couldn't grasp. You watch attentively as he goes over different substances until the lecture is over, and you're finally able to visualize how it all works in your head.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Crewel, I think I finally get it." You say, and he smiles slightly. "I'm so sorry for taking up so much of your time."

"It's no issue. I'm doing my job." He shrugs, placing papers on the desk, and just as he does it, you catch a glimpse of Crowley outside. You remember the documents he'd been making you deliver lately, and decide it's time for retribution.

"I'm really glad to have someone like you in this school. I really admire you, y'know, you really know how to get us to expand our limits! And you're here to help us with it too, it's good to have such a trustworthy teacher. It feels so unlikely I'd have one when the headmaster is like that..." You say, glancing towards the door.

Crewel values responsibility so he agrees with you on Crowley lol. He laughs quietly, a bit amused. "Surely. I won't badmouth my employer, but, well, I'm glad I'm here to fill this role."

Outside, Crowley is in shambles -- But it's Crewel. He can't do anything about Crewel specifically, he's probably the most qualified teacher in this damn place. He just leaves, dejected. He can't win against that guy.

Is convinced you just have a crush on Crewel or something. He's the teacher that gets the most admirers. Pesters you about it later like a concerned, but very awkward and irresponsible father.

Ashton Vargas

I’m sorry I literally cannot imagine anybody saying Vargas is trustworthy whether they wanna piss Crowley off or not. This guy is insane.

Sam

Now that's another staff member that's actually more responsible than Crowley.

He's more on the fun side than your teachers, but he's still an actual adult. When Crowley tells you to take boxes to the school store, he's quick to come help you carry them.

“Don’t worry about it, Little Demon, I’ll help you.” He says with a smile. Honestly, what a pleasant guy. Carrying boxes from the hallway to the shop ends up being just a little less awful than you thought it’d be.

“Aah, thank you so much.” You sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead when you’re finally done. Your arms hurt, you’re mentally cursing Crowley. “You really saved me here, I don’t think I could have carried all of that by myself...! It’s so good to know there are dependable adults in this school, Crowley wanted me to move these around by myself...” You sigh again, this time out of irritation. “So irresponsible.”

I don’t think he’d badmouth Crowley in your presence, or anyone really, he strikes me as a cautious guy -- But he’s smiling and nodding anyway.

Meanwhile, Crowley was passing by with papers in his hands, another errand ready for you to run -- You’re the least busy dorm head, after all, surely you have a moment to spare -- and he overhears everything.

Similar to how he reacts with Trein. He doesn’t want his approval rate to be lower than the school shop owner! The papers are dropped on the nearest poor soul.

“Prefect, how is your task going?” He walks in noisily, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Oh, look, you’ve done so well! It was easy, right? I’m so gracious to give such simple tasks to my students!” He laughs out loud.

What a guy.

[kwinsispn3]

Last Resort

anon asked: Hey! I love your work! Do you think you could do a sister!reader fic where Dean, Sam and Cas are away on a long hunt, and the reader (younger, maybe between 11-14) has a panic attack? Since her brothers nor Cas can help, Crowley shows up... Thank you!

Word Count: 1,762

A/N: I know panic attacks can be different for a lot of people, so I kind of just made the panic attack in this story how mine usually are. I also set this before the boys found the bunker since Crowley is still around.  *Also not my gif*

“Hey, wake up.... Y/N c’mon wake up.” Sam said as he shook your sleeping form. 

You rolled over to your side and blinked your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the light shining in from the hallway.

“M’what?” You mumbled.

“Y/N, Cas called us. Dean and I have to leave to go help him, it’s important.”

“What’s going on?” You wondered, looking over at the clock on the nightstand to see that it was 2:30 in the morning. 

“We’ll call you and explain everything later, but we have to leave. We might be gone for a few days but I wanted to let you know.” Sam said frantically.

“Okay, call me in the morning.” You said, still half asleep and not really understanding what was going on. 

Sam nodded and shut the lights off as he and Dean gathered their things before leaving the motel room. You rolled to your other side and fell back asleep within minutes.

....................

You woke up the next morning and sat up in bed, looking around, you were confused as to why Sam and Dean weren't there. It took you a minute but you remembered Sam waking you up. Just as you were thinking about where the hell they went, your phone rang.

“Sam?”

“Hey, how’re you doing?”

“Uh, where are you guys and when are you coming back?” 

“Sorry for leaving in such a rush. Cas called us about some other angels that are going around taking people out. Normally he’d be able to handle this himself but they're moving pretty fast.” Sam explained.

“When will you be back?”

“Not sure, but this one might take a few days. Maybe a week at worst, but we’ll keep you updated.”

“What about food?” You asked, glancing at the small motel kitchen. 

“Dean went on a supply run after you fell asleep last night, the fridge should be stocked. We wouldn’t leave you alone if we thought you couldn't handle it.” Sam said.

“Okay, well, hurry back.” 

“We will. Gotta go, we’ll talk to you later.” “Stay safe, Y/N/N.” You heard Dean say in the background.

....................

It had been 4 days since the boys left and you were bored out of your mind. You had opened snack after snack, watched way too much tv, and even snuck two of Dean’s beers. You knew he would notice and be pissed off but you didn't even care at the time. 

Just when you thought you would be fine by yourself, you weren't. 

The paranoia started to set in, which happened often when the boys would leave on longer hunts and not take you with them. Sometimes, you were able to brush it off and be patient until they got back. Other times like this, it was like a nagging feeling of terrible thoughts that would set off a panic attack.

There was a string of bad thoughts that kept rushing through your head. Wondering if Sam and Dean would be okay, if they were going to make it back safely, or if they were already dead and you just didn’t know it yet. 

These thoughts sent you pacing back and forth around the motel room. You chewed your lip as you imagined Sam and Dean walking through the door with their bags, trying your best to calm yourself down. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed as you felt your breathing picking up, feeling so panicked and uncomfortable, being alone for longer than you were okay with. You wanted to call Sam and Dean to check in but you didn’t want to be a bother. Your brothers knew that you had occasional panic attacks, but they didn’t know the extent of them. It was also a little embarrassing, so you decided to keep it on the low. 

That’s when your phone rang, seeing it was Sam, you answered almost right away.

“Sammy?” You breathed out.

“Hey kiddo. What’s up?” Dean answered instead.

“Uh, hey.... nothing much.... Is Sam there?”

“Yeah, he just fell asleep in the passenger seat. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, just um.... when will you be back?”

“We just finished up actually. We were able to track down the last string of dickhead angels so were on our way back right now.”

“How long?” You asked a little too eagerly. 

“Should be there in about 4 hours, could be less.... You know how I drive.” Dean let out a chuckle. 

“Ok great, hurry back.” Was all you could think of saying before hanging up the phone. 

....................

Sam stirred in his seat, waking up and turning to Dean to see his phone in his hand. “What are you doing with my phone?”

“Y/N called, she was just asking where we were.”

“Oh. How is she?”

“Good... sounded a little weird though.”

“What do you mean weird?”

“I dunno. She’s probably just getting impatient.”

Sam took a moment to think about how Dean worded that, realizing you might've been having an episode.

“No more stops tonight, let’s get back as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“She might be panicking a little bit, we’ve been gone for almost a week.”

“She’ll be fine, she just needs to get used to being on her own.” Dean started being insensitive. 

“Dean, I don’t think you know how panic attacks work.”

“She doesn't still have those, does she?”

“Yes, as far as I know she does, and depending on the person, they can get pretty bad.”

Dean didn't say anything after that and continued to drive faster. 

....................

You sat on the floor up against the motel bed and talked to yourself in your head, praying to Cas since your brothers were still a long ways away. You repeated the same message over and over, expecting to see Cas pop up in front of you, but it never happened.

You started to panic even more that you started to repeat your cry for help out loud, not to anyone directly, but in hopes of feeling like someone was listening. 

You weren’t expecting it but someone was listening. 

And that someone was Crowley.

Crowley appeared after minutes of you talking, it scared the shit out of you, making you spring up from where you were sitting. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Well, someone is a little uneasy from what I heard.” He glanced back at you.

“Why are you even listening to me?”

“You clearly wanted someone to, and I was in the area.” Crowley said jokingly.

“Sam and Dean aren’t gonna like it when they see that you’re here.” You said as you backed up out of habit.

“Sam and Dean aren’t going to be here for a while now are they love? I might as well give you some sort of company.” He smirked, as he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs to sit down.

“Why are you acting nice?”

“Who said I was acting? The king of hell can’t do little Winchester a favor?”

“Why would you want to though, it’s pretty unlike you.”

“Let’s say I owe you and your brothers one, I can’t always be ruining things can I? That would just be bad for my reputation.” Crowley sassed.

You scoffed at his sarcastic remarks, then realizing that he did a good job of distracting you from how you were feeling.

“Thanks” you gave a small smile, accepting the nice gesture Crowley gave. 

“No need... Well, I guess my work here is done.” Crowley sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend.” Before you could turn around to hear what Crowley was talking about, he was gone. Moments later, you heard a familiar car engine pull up in front of the motel room. 

Perfect timing.

You drew the curtains to reveal your brothers emerging from the car, with Cas already walking up to the door.

You let out a sigh of relief as you welcomed all three of them inside.

“Hello Y/N.....” Cas paused and looked around with suspicion growing on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a sense that one from the opposite side was lingering in this vicinity.”

“Okay, I literally understood none of that.”

“There was a demon here at some point. I’m sure of it.”

“Y/N, what’s he rambling about?” Dean asked as he hauled in the last of the things from the impala.

“Uh, I don’t know.” You lied.

Sam could see right through you face and knew something had happened. You didn’t look okay.

“Y/N, was there someone here? Did something try to hurt you?” Sam asked, grabbing Dean’s attention, stopping him from what he was doing.

“Well, Crowley...”

“Crowley!? Was he here?” Dean’s voice boomed.

“Dean, can you please not make a big deal...”

“Big deal!!?”

“Dean, dude seriously chill out. Just tell us what happened, Y/N.” Sam interrupted.

You told the three boys everything that happened. Sam immediately felt bad that he wasn’t there. Dean was worried that his little sister dealt with panic attacks this bad, but he still wasn’t happy that the king of hell just decided to pop in without warning. 

“Y/N/N, why didn’t you tell me over the phone?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t want you to worry. Plus, you were too far anyways.”

“Well next time that happens, you call us, no matter where we are. I promise, you mean more to us than our work, we’d drop everything, even if we were miles away just to get to you.” Sam explained.

“Yeah, what he said.” Dean chimed in.

“Wow, I love how much you care.” You joked.

“You know I love you Y/N/N..... but I’m gonna have to lay down some rules with Crowley, and one of them is no dropping in when I’m not here. I don’t trust that shady punk.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged his arms, motioning for a hug which you gladly accepted.

“Nothing but chick flick moments over here. Get a room.” Dean scoffed.

“Shut up!”

“So, where is Crowley now?” Cas asked innocently.

“Were you even listening the whole time?” Sam asked confused.

“No, there is many things being said over angel radio.” 

“God dammit, Cas.” Dean said as he got up to grab a beer out of the fridge. “Who drank my beers?”

“Wasn’t me...” Sam shrugged. 

You knew you were in big trouble, forgetting about the choices you made earlier. So you slipped out the front door to let Dean cool down, but he had other plans. Sam quietly ratted you out as he motioned to the door that had just shut.

“Y/N! Get back here!” 

Requests are open again!

Tags:

@jackjackljaqui ​@hunting-the-grievers @susan-is-in-the-house@flirtyonsie @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @justsomedreaming

[bluerosewritings]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns | Overblot!Riddle x Reader

You charged through the rose maze, cursing how loud your footsteps were. You'd heard Heartslabyul students talk about how insanely hard it was to even get halfway through the maze, but you never thought it would be this bad. Why, out of everything you could have done, did you think it would be a good idea to run into here?

Everything had gone so wrong. All you'd wanted was to help Ace and Deuce get out of their punishment - and if solving that with a duel meant helping the other students, great! There's no way it could end up worse than what happened in the Dwarf Mines, right?

You envied your past self's innocence.

In a weird way, you blamed yourself. If you hadn't opened your mouth, Riddle wouldn't have retaliated, so Ace wouldn't have decked his dorm leader in the face, someone wouldn't have thrown that egg at Riddle, Riddle wouldn't have freaked out and started beheading everyone, and he wouldn't have turned into... that. With that... thing hovering behind him like some sort of cruel puppeteer, looking way too familiar to whatever had tried to hurt you and your friends in the Dwarf Mines. Had you always been this unlucky?

Crowley had barely been able to say a thing before Riddle had cast Off With Your Head on the headmaster, then on Trey, Cater, and whatever poor souls that hadn't yet escaped Heartslabyul, tying them up with rose bush roots. Once again, you'd been the only one without a collar - maybe it was because of your lack of magic, maybe it was because you were from another world, you didn't know. You didn't hang around to find out - once Grim's yells at you to hurry up and get out of there snapped you out of your horrified trance, you bolted. Unfortunately, Riddle had noticed your sudden departure and chased after you, screaming your name.

You'd ducked into the Rose Maze hoping to shake him off. You wished you hadn't - all that you'd accomplished was getting yourself lost. Riddle's voiced seemed to be getting closer and closer by the minute, too.

"(y/n)!" Speak of the devil. The sudden shock of his voice nearly made you trip. "Come out this instant! Do you want your punishment to be even more severe!?"

Shaking off his words (or were you literally shaking?), you turned the corner. There seemed to be more and more roses as you went on - maybe a sign you were nearing the exit? Hoping so, you followed the blood-red flowers.

"(y/n)! I'm saying this for your own benefit! Tell me where you are, now! (y/n)!"

The leaves seemed to be disappearing under the red petals. A war between the two pieces of nature, two things that should be living in harmony instead being tainted by greed and ruining their peace. You had to be nearly out.

"(y/n)!!"

There were barely any leaves left now.

One last turn. One last turn and you should be--

Stuck. The roses didn't lead to the end of the maze at all. They led to the center of it.

A statue of the Queen of Hearts, like the one in the school among the other Great Seven, seemed to mock you with her smug expression. Now that you got a good look at her, she looked eerily similar to the specter haunting Riddle. Of course she did.

"So this is where you've been."

You turned so fast you fell over. Your mind couldn't even register the pain from your new cuts as you stared up in terror at the twisted form of Riddle. The boy himself seemed to be conflicted on whether to look at you with sympathy or smirk.

He settled on disappointment. "If you'd have just answered me earlier, you wouldn't be in such a sad state now, would you? Good grief."

Though he approached you at a normal pace, even that was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Desperately you tried to push yourself off the ground. Only it didn't work - you looked down to see yourself literally rooted to the floor. Following the root's path, you saw they were coming from the two rose bushes levitating by Riddle's side. No surprise there.

Out of options, you looked up at this new version of Riddle looming over you. Trying not to let your fear show, you glared at him. The look only caused Riddle's eyebrow to twitch before his emotions exploded forth.

"Don't look at your Queen that way! Change your expression immediately!"

"W-Why should I?"

"You...!" Blood rushed to Riddle's face. "Ever since I met you, everything you've done...! Causing a disturbance at the entrance ceremony, encouraging Ace and Deuce's idiotic behaviour, even managing to turn Cater and Trey against me...! I should despise every single part of you! So why...!?"

Before you could ask what he meant, the rose roots shot their way up your back, repositioning themselves so they pushed you upwards. You had no time to react - not that you could do much, your hands were still restricted, now bound together - as Riddle tangled his fingers in your hair and forced his lips on yours.

It took you a second to process what he was doing. Once you realised, you begun trying to wriggle your way out of his grip. Unfortunately, this only annoyed Riddle further - he tugged at your hair, causing you to yelp. Riddle took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Any cries of protest went ignored.

You weren't sure how long the kiss lasted, but when Riddle finally pulled away you wasted no time gasping for air. There was a metallic taste invading your mouth. Your first thought was that it was blood but you couldn't raise your hand to check.

Riddle kept your foreheads touching, his hand still in your hair to keep you from moving away. You thought you were the only one that was dealing with a lack of air, but it seemed that Riddle's power up couldn't keep him from panting.

"Why...?" Riddle looked you in the eyes. The dark intensity scared you. It was a mix of anger, regret, confusion... and something else that somehow scared you even more.

"Why did I have to fall for someone like you...?"

Love.

Somehow the ferocity of the first kiss hadn't made it click for you. Now, however, the rush of fear gave you the strength to fling your head back and crash it onto Riddle's.

Only your foreheads were connected but it was enough. Riddle yelled in pain and let go of you. You fell on to the floor but were quick to get up as the pain was distracting Riddle from his control spell.

"(y/n)...! HOW DARE YOU!?"

You make it to the other side of the Queen of Hearts statue before roots burst out of the ground and latch on to your ankles. Caught mid-run, the sudden stop causes your to fall face-forward onto the floor. More roots appear to take advantage of the opportunity, latching themselves around you, binding you to the ground.

You couldn't turn your head, but you could feel Riddle approaching, glaring at your back. You weren't sure what was worse; the foreboding sense of darkness from Riddle's stares or the crushing feeling from the roots.

By the time Riddle was standing in front of you, black dots were decorating your vision. Tears were dripping out your eyes as you were unable to stop them. The unknown anxiety from what Riddle would do made breathing even harder. Riddle gritted his teeth, still nursing his head.

"Why do you insist on being so disobedient!?" Riddle growled. "Is it just because it's me!? You have no problem listening to those first-year ruler breakers! Is it them? Did they influence you? It has to be! It's their fault!"

"No...!" You croaked out.

Every word Riddle spoke caused the roots to become tighter. The tears fell even harder as you gasped for air like a fish out of water.

"No? Look at yourself!" Riddle scoffed. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd just followed my rules! I should have approached you from the start... I should've seen what leaving you alone would do. Damn it!"

"Pl...ease...!" You could barely make out Riddle's words. A dull ringing was going off in your ears, making it hard for you to focus.

"You had so much potential, right from the beginning, even if the mirror said you were magic-less, I saw it!" Riddle continued to scold himself, unaware of your desperation. "I should've told Crowley to place you in Heartslabyul, where I could've kept you on the right track... instead you had to become a rule-breaker! Why!?"

"I'm... sorry...!" You cried out.

The words caught Riddle's ears. He finally turned to you, realising what he'd caused. Gears turned in his head before he finally spoke.

"You're sorry, what?" He tried.

"I... I'm sorry, my Queen...! Riddle...!"

Instantly, the pressure was released. The sudden rush of oxygen to your lungs made you choke. Even though the roots were off you, you stayed laying on the ground, not wanting to push Riddle into doing that again.

"(y/n)." You looked up. "Come here."

Riddle stiffly opened his arms, as if embarrassed by the act. You hesitated, unsure if it was a trap. Riddle frowned.

"(y/n). Come here, now."

Out of options, you slowly pushed yourself off the floor. You still hadn't completely recovered, so you more stumbled than walked into Riddle's arms. It didn't seem to matter - the second you hit his chest, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him. The similarity to what had happened not long ago earlier caused you to tremble. Riddle didn't seem to notice.

"Thank goodness." Riddle sighed in relief, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "You're not too far gone... you just need to properly learn the rules... that's a relief..."

The smile you felt caused your skin to crawl. Riddle began tracing kisses up your neck, across your jawline then connecting your lips again.

The kiss was softer this time, a chaste one that would've made your heart race if the situation wasn't so, so wrong. Even so, the fear of angering whatever you were kissing made you lightly press back. The monster in Riddle's form pulled back slowly, a child-like smile on its face.

One hand came away from your waist and ghosted against your neck. It sighed before you felt a wisp of magic circling your neck. While you couldn't see it, you felt the new accessory adorning your neck - a black choker with a red heart outlined with gold at the front; with no clasp to take it off.

Riddle hummed in approval, happy at the sight. He wasn't as pleased when he saw the look in your eyes -  a poorly concealed fear at what he'd done. He sighed, giving you a quick kiss before leaning you into his neck now instead. He raked his fingers through your hair in a soothing manner.

"I'm doing this for your benefit." He explained. "It's my fault for letting you hang around bad influences, but it's okay now. I'll make things right for you. You'll be following the rules perfectly in no time."

Riddle placed a kiss on your forehead and leaned next to your ear. He pressed a finger against the heart of your choker.

"You will, or it's off with your head."

[capri-ramblings]

I haven't written in a while and this is literally my first fic writing for Twisted Wonderland, so it's a bit dry and boring but after playing one of @malleusthorns 's click and drag game i just had to write something with my result lmao.

Lilia is a character I've yet to get to know so forgive me if he's a bit ooc here (╯︵╰,) anyways hope this isn't So bad since I'm planning to write a bunch of others •́ ‿ ,•̀

Thanks again to malleusthorn for this spark of inspo (probably ruined by my horrible writing)

* * * *

Things happened so fast, I didn't think I got any of it at all until I was blinded by darkness. Shoved into a closet with someone I've only ever met once, all the while the people I call my friends snickered behind the door that separates us.

I shifted in the closet, a habit whenever I got nervous.

Lilia shifted as well but I couldn't see him until a small green light appeared and his face was illuminated by it.

He had a small smile on his lips, his features ethereal and youthful resembling a porcelain doll made with precise skills. Really, I might be exaggerating, but Lilia had an eternal feel to his demeanor, as if his beauty came from countless lifetimes.

He tilted his head then, the ball of green light in his palm glistening. I realized then he had said something and I was just staring at him.

"Uh,sorry, did you say something, Lilia-senpai?", I tried my best not to sound flustered but given our situation, I'm pretty sure half of the school would know I was losing composure.

Damn that Ace and Grimm, next time Azul gives you anemones, I'd let Floyd squeeze you dry before helping again.

"Hmm, you seem troubled", he said slightly airy yet thoughtful. "You know usually whenever I'm troubled with something I sing a song to help me think, would you like me to teach you a song to sing?"

His eyes were wide and genuine then, like a clear crystal filled with thoughts brimming with eccentricity. Lilia at the moment, kinda reminded me of a kid rather than a senior.

"Ah! You're smiling!" He leaned in closer as his lips curled into a smile as well.

"Hey, your smile is a wonderful thing to see! If that was the case, you should smile more often!"

"Ahahaha...even when I'm forced to do things I don't really want to do at first but I can't really refuse cause Principal Crowley would use my freeloading existence here as blackmail?" I closed my eyes and crossed my arms, feigning a thinking gesture. "I'll give it a try"

Lilia laughed then,so full and warm it took me by surprise. His hands came to hold my shoulders,giving it a friendly shake.

"Hahahaha! That's the spirit! You have a good sense of humour too!"

"...Huh, anyways, Lilia-senpai, are you okay with this?" He looked at me, eyes shifting from enthusiastic to curious. His smile didn't fade when he spoke.

"With what?"

"Um, this seven minutes in heaven thing. I know I'm kinda the last person you'd wanna hang with for seven minutes of your life"

"Hmm,is that so?" Something in his gaze shifted then,a mist of thought I couldn't catch in time. It wasn't unsettling,though I felt a chill ran up my spine anyway.

"And why would you say that,little lantern?"

"L-Little lantern..?"

"Ahahaha! It suits you doesn't it? Your smile just now reminded me of a lantern I saw long ago"

"Well... It's cute, I guess"

His eyes closed, that same warm chirp of a laugh coming from him again. "Say, why wouldn't I want to spend seven minutes of my time with you?" He asked, pretty close to me, maybe a bit too close. I let out a dry laugh, and gestured dismissively with my hand.

"Well,for a start I'm not really the most interesting person in this school."

"I think I can beg to differ,little lantern. You're someone without magic, a child of man, and yet the black carriage carried you here to this school and for months now you've been able to make due with whatever is thrown your way,despite what has been thrown your way, and you do it with a clear conscience too." He tilted his head again, eyes glistening like the light he held so gracefully In the palm of his hands. At that moment, I thought I was looking at something very ancient.

"O-Oh...I didn't really see it that way.." I shuffled back, attempting to create distance, but my back collided against the door.

"Ah,sorry I was taking up a lot of space, wasn't I?" Lilia laughed but his gaze fixated on me as if searching for something before it didn't and we were back to staring at each other, not really knowing what to say.

'Man,and I thought those leech twins were hard to read..'

"Say, wouldn't you like to know how to use magic?"

"Huh?"

"You really like spacing out don't you? Little lantern if you don't keep your guard up something might happen with the little time we have now"

"...What exactly could happen?"

"Hmm, I wonder what could happen"

"That's why I asked—"

Lilia took hold of my hand then, bringing up to his face.

"We have a few minutes left, you wanna try your luck?"

"I don't know. Are you gonna turn me into a toad or something"

"Eh? You're a funny one indeed, little lantern. Here,first I'll do this" Lilia placed his hand underneath mine, holding it so my palm was open, then he let his gaze bore into it before a warm sensation began pooling on my hand. A faint sense of power enveloping it.

"Wha... Lilia-senpai—"

"Eh,what a nice reaction. There, try it!"

He let his grasp turn loose and I pulled my hand away, inspecting it like it wasn't even my own hand. Somehow,it felt different...

Lilia kept his eyes on me, a smile in both his gaze and on his lips. I looked back at my hand, sighed.

"Yolo,right?" I smiled back at him.

"Eh,Yolo?"

"Ah, nevermind. What should I do by the way? I'm kinda clueless here..."

"Hmm,maybe try floating something, that's a basic skill I'm sure you'll get right off the bat!"

My gaze searched around the room then,all the while I was wondering how I got into this situation in the first place. Why was there even a party at this hour? Ugh, this school will be the death of me, I swear.

I sighed again, and at that moment I felt something crawl up onto my leg.

I locked eyes with Lilia who was still staring at me, his hand was still holding the green light.

Ah,so it's not him?

I stiffened.

"...Lilia-senpai?"

"Hm,is something the matter, Little lantern?"

My lips parted, and the crawling came again. Goosebumps greeted my whole body.

"Little Lantern,are you okay?"

I clenched my teeth. "I think there's something climbing on my leg...!" The words came out in a hurry and had Lilia widening his gaze before he looked down and seemed like he wanted to crouch with the light to see better but I grabbed at his hand, sweating.

"Don't move! What if you make it crawl faster?"

"Then how am I supposed to help you?"

"Use your magic!"

He chuckled,his free hand coming up to slightly cover his mouth. "Isn't the light I'm using now part of my magic?"

Then he really did crouch down, the light illuminating my lower half. I closed my eyes before it had a chance to trail down, but once silence stilled in the room. I desperately wanted to scream.

"Lilia-senpai..?"

"Don't move." His voice lost it's friendliness. A brusque shift from light to authoritive in mere seconds. I shut my eyes even harder, skin crawling with goosebumps. Lilia didn't answer, instead straightening his body before he looked me in the eyes.

"Everything's okay, just don't move. I'll get rid of that thing on your leg"

"What thing?" I asked,panic lacing my words. I wanted to cringe so bad but the fear of not knowing what was latching onto me had me frozen in place.

"Nothing I can't handle"

"That's not really comforting..."

"I'm your senior aren't I?" He said then, smiling gently at me again with the same warmth from before. "Even if we're from different dorms, I wouldn't hurt someone under my care"

I nodded my head,flustered once more. "Okay"

I expected some monster to be illuminated by Lilia's light and him destroying it with his magic students from other dorms talk about with astonishment.

What I didn't expect was for him to suddenly let out a yelp and the room going dark once more as I felt his body tumble ontop of me and the door to the closet opening, causing both of us to stumble out with a loud thud as we fell to the ground.

The light seemed to burn my eyes, but my chest and back held more pain from the fall.

Ace's voice reached me first.

"Wowie, someone got excited,huh?"

"Kantokusei! Are you alright?" Came Deuce's voice next and a couple of other murmurs.

The weight from Lilia was gone and as I sat up to answer both Ace and Deuce, from the darkened closet something flew out and smacked me right in the face.

Ace and Deuce let out panicked screams while I fell onto my back again, my face throbbing.

"Ara Ara, it seems like I missed" It was Lilia, and he was already on his feet, looming over my fallen figure. He was smiling but his eyes held worry in them as he reached out a hand for me to grab.

"The door opened so suddenly, if it didn't, I doubt the flip flop would've hit you, Little lantern"

"What the hell just happened?" Ace said aloud, his eyes wide as he stared at us both. Deuce had helped me up along with Lilia and actually had Grim run off to get me a drink, but my gaze went to Lilia first who was repeating apologies with his eyes.

"Kantokusei,are you okay? That flip flop really went and smack you..."

I smiled, a sudden amusement bubbling in my throat. I stared at Lilia who seemed to glow with hidden laughter as well and nodded my head. Slightly laughing when the words leave my mouth.

"The next round,we're shoving Ace in the closet alone"

"Eh? Why?" Deuce looked concerned, his face scrunched up with confusion. Lilia laughed, tilting his head to the side.

"It's alright, he won't be alone in there,right, Little Lantern?"

[sam-writesstuff]

Family (Crowley x reader x Aziraphale)

Requested: Hey! I was wondering if you could write a fic with a teen!reader where she spends a lot of time with Crowley and Aziraphale, they're like protective dads over her. One day the angels/demons take her to try and get information about Crowley and Aziraphale, obviously they rescue her and they don't want her to bother with them anymore because they don't want her to get hurt so she yells at them?? Very angsty with a lovely fluffy ending xo

Warnings: Ignorant family, Slight child abuse. 

Word Count: 1899

A/N: I know I said I will post a fic last weekend, but due to some technical issues with my computer, I wasn’t able to finish this ‘til today... I’m sorry🥺School’s kind of dragging me behind with literally everything I enjoy doing;( Learning is important, but I miss the days I can just go anywhere and do anything whenever I wanted to😩 I didn't expect this to be turned into a series... But I guess it is? I hope you guys enjoy reading this!

---

Life wasn't fair. 

You learned this way to young. Your mother hated you, specifically because her own life was ruined in the result of your birth. Your father was selfish and ignorant; an arsehole. Weird enough, you couldn't bring yourself to blame either of them. Your mom was a poor victim of society, and your father was a victim to his father. Not enough reason to abandon a child, but the world you lived in taught you things that most people learn in their thirties. When they got divorced, you were handed to your grandmother. When she died, you were handed to your aunt. Handed, like an object. Like a hot potato, keep being passed on and on until the music stopped playing. When you realized that you can decide when to stop your music, you didn't linger longer. You were around thirteen when you first tried to escape from your aunt. 

It was freezing that night. The night was so, so cold. Everything moved slowly, but you kept walking. You didn't have much on you, and you weren't sure what you needed to do now. You were lost. You thought walking might lead you to somewhere. Anywhere. It was devastating. London was huge. Even so, not a single place in this city had a room for you. You once saw the news on the tv inside a store use the word 'overpopulation,' and how the world was so crowded. You wondered if that is why there wasn't any place for you. 

'God created everyone for a reason, there is a place for everyone in this world.' 

Your grandmother was very forgetful. She sometimes forgot that its morning and tried to put you back into bed. Or wake you up in the middle of the night thinking its morning. She sometimes forgot how to use the bathroom. She sometimes thought she was in someplace else and kept screaming. The rare amount of times when she wasn't, she always told you that God created everyone for a reason, and there is a place for everyone in this world. You never took her word for it, but you truly wished for it to be true at this moment. If it was true, now was the time to prove it.

The bookshop across the street was the only place that had lights on. Every other store on the street was closed. You could've gone over to a cafe that was a few blocks away, but you didn't. It was as if you were possessed by something. You were like the little girl that sold matches and the bookshop was what lit up at your sight. That should be the place. That had to be the place. You entered the bookshop and a gentleman with golden hair came out. 

"Hello, I'm afraid we are quite definitely clo- oh, dear. Are you all right?" 

"I-I'm sorry. The lights were on and I - Ah, achoo!" 

"No, it's not a problem. Please, you can sit here." 

The man offered you a sit on a chair. Honestly, you didn't know what else you could do but to sit. There was nowhere else for you to go. Nowhere else for you sit. This was at least somewhere. 

"Tell me, my child. Where are your parents?" 

You hesitated. If you tell him the truth, will he let you stay? Will he care? He might call the police. What will happen to you then?

You were foolish. You thought escaping would help, only to lead you nowhere but to leave you to freeze to death. 

"Do you have nowhere to go?"

He asked softly. Soft enough to get an unwanted child talking.  No matter how high your walls were, that was all it took to collapse. But you knew this. You tried to avoid a direct answer, still, you couldn't resist the tears that formed in your eyes. 

You expected more questioning from him, but he asked you none. Instead, he let you stay in the store for the night. The next morning, he made you promise to come back. 

"Angels will watch over you," he said. 

You didn't say anything back. Not a typical phrase you think you'd hear from a stranger. What a weird man, you thought. But then you came back because you were desperate. And every time he welcomed you with a warm heart. He seemed glad to see you again. You talked, he listened. He helped you, he took care of you. 

"What is your name, my dear?" 

"Y/N," you didn't say your last name on purpose. You didn't like it. Those people weren't even your family. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Aziraphale." 

Aziraphale. You saw the name before. Yes, you saw it and not heard it. In the bible. In the dirty, old, dark room you and your grandmother lived, she kept a bible. She'd sometimes read it out loud to you. You were too hungry to care. However, to your curiosity, you had opened it before. 

Not long after you met Aziraphale, you met Crowley. You were terrified of him at first. You swore you saw him yelling at plants once. 

Then one day, Crowley came to your school to see the Christmas play you starred in. You have been working on it for months, and although you weren't the main character, you enjoyed playing your role. You didn't even bother to tell your aunt about it. Instead, you asked Aziraphale if he could come and watch. He said yes, of course. Sadly, on the day of your play, a very important customer to Aziraphale came to the bookshop. Having to deal with him, Aziaraphale couldn't make it to your play. Not knowing that, you waited for him to enter through the door. Your eyes searched among the crowds, but he was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere.

More parents entered, each time waving at their kid on the stage. Some held flowers, probably to give them afterward. 

"Uh, my mum is holding a camera," Harry, who stood beside you, grumbled at the sight. 

"What's wrong with a camera?" You asked. You couldn't understand. What was wrong with a mum trying to savior a memory of her child?

"It is embarrassing. She'll show it to everyone at the Christmas dinner," Harry stated annoyingly. Almost like asking for sympathy. As if you are supposed to feel the same way. As if you too, had such a caring mother who would come to watch your play and record it for showing off purposes. 

"Where is your mum?" Harry asked. It is these simple questions that hurt you the most. All of the assumptions, all of the conditions to be defined as a normal kid. What you hated, even more, is yourself wishing for your mother to enter from that door any moment now, and apologize. 

"I-" You hear a large creek when you opened your mouth to answer. The door swung opened and entered a very familiar-looking person. Crowley.  

Besides the dramatic entrance, he was a very unlike figure to be seen at a school play.  Flaming red hair, wearing entirely black with usual sunglasses; his posture, in general, had a weird aurora. Parents stared at him with questioning eyes and so did you. You queried why he was there, he didn't appear like a parent. He marched over to you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a large bouquet.

"I am not late, am I?" Crowley said as he looked around the room, "Is the play already over?" 

"No," you took a moment before answering him. You were confused. "It hasn't even started yet. Where is Azi?" 

"Aziraphale couldn't make it, had an important customer to deal with. Wanted me to tell you how sorry he was." 

Disappointed look spread on your face. It wasn't his fault, you knew that. Though, that didn't stop you from being upset. You'll just leave as fast as you can after the play. Your friends will want to take pictures with you but... Well, you didn't have anyone to take the photo for you. If you leave fast enough, you'll be able to avoid all the questions. 

"Don't be so gloomy about it. I'm here."

You looked up at Crowley with unbelieving eyes. "You are not going to leave?"

"What? No. Why do you think I came here in the first place?"

Your teacher announced that the play was starting soon, and Crowley went to find a seat. When he did found a sit, he took his phone out. You expected him to be on his phone instead of focusing on your play, but to your surprise, his camera lens landed on you. Later, himself joined other crowds of parents who scooched in the front row as quietly as possible trying to get the best shot of their children. 

When the play ended, he whistled loudly. It was the loudest whistle you've ever heard in your life. He had a bright smile onㅡalmost grinningㅡand you've never seen him smile so widely. A proud smile. A kind of smile you've never gotten it before. You ran down the stairs after the final bow, towards Crowley and you hugged him tightly. He seemed stunned by your sudden action since you always hid behind Aziraphale whenever you saw him, but he patted on your shoulder in return. 

"This is for you, by the way," he said, handing you the bouquet. Your smile widened at it. The flowers were beautiful. 

Your friends ran over to you, wanting to take pictures with you. Their parents followed with their cameras. You looked up nervously at Crowley, but he was already taking his phone out. When all the picture fiasco was done, he took your hand and led you out to his car. 

"I know my way home. I can walk home," you said but then hopped onto his car. 

"Aziraphale is treating us dinner," Crowley answered fastening your seatbelt. 

"Really?" Your face lightened up in excitement. A family dinner. Something you've never experienced before. 

"Yes. Do you know your aunt's number? I'll call her," he handed you his phone from the driver's seat. 

"I do, but I don't think you need to. Don't worry, she won't care," you didn't take his phone, knowing that she wouldn't care either way. She didn't the day you ran out of the house. She didn't when you came back, so why would she start caring now? 

However, Crowley looked rather disturbed. He didn't say anything, and with his sunglasses, it was almost impossible to read him. You were greeted with Aziraphale when you arrived. 

"Oh, hello, my dear. I deeply apologize for not being able to-" 

"It's okay. Look! Crowley gave me flowers!" 

"They look wonderful," he smiled at you softly before turning to Crowley. His face expression changed quickly and his voice deepened in a serious tone. "Did you film her as I asked you to?"

"Yes, yes. I did. Now come on, she must be starving." 

After this day, you considered Crowley as your family along with Aziraphale. 

You promised to yourself every single day, that one day, you'll give it all back to them. All the kindness they showed, all the things they gave you. You'll pay them back. 

You never thought that your existence would endanger them, or that their existence would endanger you.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

to be selfish

(in which plans are ruined, sparks fly, and selfish, selfish choices are made)

based on this prompt by @alltheprettygirlsintheworld!

id also like to thank @alltheprettygirlsintheworld for always reblogging my writing and leaving kind comments!! your support means the world to me 💕 i hope this fic is at least somewhat like what you were looking for!

~*~

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong.

Luck of the devil, Crowley supposed, though by that he meant he had the worst luck in history.

The picnic had been rained out, the Bentley had broken down, and even after miracling the poor car back into shape, Crowley and Aziraphale had gotten stuck in a line of traffic that hadn't moved whatsoever in the past fifteen minutes.

Worst of all, Crowley's plan had also been completely and utterly ruined. 6000 years of waiting washed down the drain. Quite literally, too.

Damn thunderstorm.

Needless to say, the demon was not in a cheerful mood.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale murmured. An open book was resting on his lap, though even out of the corner of his eye Crowley could tell the angel wasn't reading it.

He sighed. "Not your fault. Last I checked, angel, you can't control the weather."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean, I am sorry it rained." Aziraphale closed his book after tucking a bookmark between the pages. "I'm sorry you're so disappointed, my dear. I know how much effort you put into planning this. Finding the right spot, and preparing the food yourself and all." His chewed on his lip. "Is there anything I can do, or say to - to cheer you up?"

Crowley chuckled, leaning back into his seat and turning to offer the angel a soft smile. Traffic wouldn't be moving anytime soon. He could afford to take his eyes off the road for a few seconds. "You can agree to come on a picnic with me whenever it's not raining."

Aziraphale beamed at him, and Crowley's heart jumped into his throat, as it so often did when his angel smiled. "That sounds lovely, my dear. I'd be delighted to join you again."

Crowley absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the conversation passed. He frowned. "You do know, angel, that you don't have to apologize for anything. I should be the one saying sorry for not checking the weather report before we left."

A tiny smile crept onto Aziraphale's lips. "I suppose we're both apologizing for things we don't need to, then."

"I guess we are."

Silence fell between them. The Bentley inched forward as rain pattered softly on the roof. Lightning flashed a brilliant purple in the sky, followed by a deep echo of thunder.

Aziraphale finally said with a huff, "Oh, just spill it, Crowley. It is not like you to be so - so mute when it comes to a few cancelled plans. Especially something like this. What are on Earth are you not telling me?"

Crowley's grip tightened on the steering wheel. This was not a topic he wanted to discuss. Not now, at least. Not without preparation. He didn't dare turn to look at Aziraphale. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"My dear, you are radiating dejection. It's almost smothering! Why can't you just be honest with -" Aziraphale cut himself off with a shuddering sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was even. Gentle. "Please. Tell me what's wrong."

Crowley's gaze remained steadfast on the road in front of him. "Nothing's wrong. I would tell you if there was a problem."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't. You never talk about your feelings. Not with me."

Crowley stiffened so sharply at the angel's words that he nearly snapped off part of the steering wheel.

"Good Lord!" Aziraphale exclaimed, startled by his abrupt reaction. "What was that all about?"

Crowley didn't respond, praying the angel wouldn't connect the dots.

(Then again, since when had God ever listened to his prayers?)

"Feelings," Aziraphale murmured. He blushed. "I'm going to make an educated guess, my dear, that you were planning to talk about... Our relationship."

Crowley bit back a sigh. Now it wasn't even worth trying to change the subject. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Not like it matters anymore." A lie. "Don't know if you noticed, angel, but whatever I might or might not have planned has gone to shit now."

Aziraphale chuckled. "It's not that bad." He reached over, gently cupping Crowley's cheek before slowly turning the demon's head to face him. "Look at me, my dear."

Crowley was distinctly aware of how red his face had to be. Extremely embarrassing. "But traffic -"

"- won't be moving for another hour. We both know that."

He hated it when the angel had a point. He sighed, reluctantly taking his hands off the steering wheel and turning so his body also faced Aziraphale. "Okay. I'm looking at you."

"Now tell me what you planned to say at the picnic."

Crowley exhaled, though it sounded more like a hiss. "I can't."

Aziraphale frowned. "Why not?"

"I just can't, angel!" he snapped. "I don't know what the hell I was going to say." Not entirely a lie. He didn't have a speech prepared or anything. All he'd wanted to do was hold the angel's hand and - and see what happened after that.

He couldn't risk going too fast.

Aziraphale softened. He had an uncanny way of knowing when the demon was being honest. "Alright. Then I'll tell you what I planned to say."

Calling that an unexpected reply would have been an understatement. Crowley somehow managed to nod in response.

Aziraphale fiddled with his pinky ring, taking a deep breath before he began. "I know that you love me, my dear, though I also know you would never allow yourself to admit that out loud. I can feel your love. I've felt it since - well, since the beginning, I suppose. But I have never said that I love you, dear boy. And since there's no time like the present..." He bit his lip. "I love you, too, Crowley. So very, very much. And I have for far longer than I dare to admit."

Inside, Crowley was already aware of this. He couldn't detect love like angels could, but he was no idiot. And Aziraphale had never been good at hiding his feelings. Eyes were windows to the soul, after all.

"And - And I'm sure you're wondering why I waited so long to say anything," Aziraphale continued. "But I was afraid, Crowley! Afraid of what Hell would do to you if they ever found out about - about us." He stared at the demon, and Crowley's heart clenched as he saw tears glistening in the angel's eyes. "For me... I knew that if I Fell, I Fell. So be it. But for you the only consequence would have been complete destruction! I couldn't risk that something horrible happened to you because of my - because of my selfishness."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Your selfishness?"

Aziraphale managed a weak laugh. "Yes. Me, selfishly wanting to be with you. To be able to love you without worrying about any of the consequences. Just... Us."

Crowley didn't know how to respond. Or maybe it was the lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. Either way, he was silent.

"But I've had enough of the - the bullshit from our head offices. I'm allowed to be selfish every once in a while! And I don't care if that makes me unangelic!" Aziraphale reached out to take Crowley's hands in his. "I'm ready to go as fast as you want, Crowley. Anywhere you go, from Earth to Alpha Centauri, I will be there. With you. Even if that means you end up driving this blasted car a hundred miles over the speed limit."

Crowley chuckled, squeezing the angel's hands. Everything he'd ever wanted to hear was finally being said, but now that the moment had come, he could hardly process it. "Angel," he finally whispered, "I think... I think I might be in love with you."

Aziraphale laughed, freeing one of his hands to reach up and wipe away tears trickling down his face. "Think? My dear, I know you are."

Time stood still as Crowley took off his sunglasses and tossed them into an empty cupholder before slowly leaning towards Aziraphale, his head tilted, eyes shut, and his lips parted ever so slightly -

Then he hesitated.

There is no "our side"!

I don't even like you!

You go too fast for me, Crowley.

He couldn't do it.

"Dammit," he muttered, letting his head fall and come to rest on the angel's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," was Aziraphale's reply before he lifted Crowley's chin and closed the distance between them.

The kiss was gentle. Tender. And hesitant, neither wanting to rush the other. It was a kiss filled with patience and 6000 years of waiting, a kiss burning with passion and 6000 years of longing. Perhaps there was even a bit of temptation.

(Who was doing the tempting, well, neither could say.)

The kiss was broken when the car behind them blared its horn, startling the both of them.

"Bastard," Crowley muttered as he drove the Bentley less than a car-length forward. "As if moving up five feet really makes a difference."

Aziraphale chuckled. "Humans always have places to be and things to do."

"Yeah, well, if he really needs to be somewhere, he might as well get out of his car and start walking."

"I suppose we're lucky we don't have plans."

Crowley snorted. "You may not have plans, angel, but I do."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "Really? What plans do you have?"

Crowley smirked. "I was planning to convince you to be selfish and kiss me again. Preferably more than once."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, though Crowley didn't miss the small smile dancing on his lips. "Oh, you're ridiculous."

"Mm. I know. And you love it."

"Well..." He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I do."

(Although, as it turned out, his angel didn't need much convincing. It was also no coincidence that the Bentley started to play "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy" on repeat - and refused to stop. Some things, it seemed, were simply fated to be. A little selfishness never did harm anyone, after all.)

~*~

[freezin4books]

Good Omens fic recs

There will probably be several parts to this list, but I’ve been reading tons of Good Omens fics lately and I can’t resist sharing.

- the bucket list by darcylindbergh

(25901 words) WIP Chapters: 6/8 Rating: Explicit

There was a certain look that Aziraphale wore occasionally—a pinched sort of moue that looked like he’d just taken a very large mouthful of cinnamon—which meant he thought Crowley was being ridiculous. He had put it on

“Hang on,” he had said. “You want us to do human things?”

* If you're going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

- get religion quick (cause you're looking divine) by brinnanza

(4285 words)  Rating: General Audiences

So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing.

It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.

- Snakes and Stones (Never Broke My Bones) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee

(4554 words) Rating: General Audiences

“How many people don’t believe I exist?” Crowley asks in the doorway. “I’m sure no – ” Aziraphale begins, only to be cut off by Gabriel and a reluctant Newton. “Everyone.”

No one wants to say it, but the residents of Dorm A, floor 3, are collectively convinced Aziraphale Fell’s boyfriend does not exist. This is their story.

- listen (he's already told you five times) by darcylindbergh

(1891 words) 

Not everything Crowley says is said out loud. Aziraphale doesn't always hear him at first, but he's learning to stop being surprised.

- A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone

(5867 words) Rating: Mature

"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

- In the (Second) Beginning by cherryfeather

(2661 words)  Rating: Mature

As their lunch stretches on Aziraphale slowly comes to realize that Crowley is—enjoying him. Enjoying Aziraphale’s conversation, and company, far more openly than he has in most of Aziraphale’s memory. And Aziraphale knows that he himself is just chattering on, letting conversational tangents carry him along, and—it’s definitely relief, for him, knowing for the first time in a long time that they aren’t being watched, that no one is keeping score for now.

- Aziraphale realizes that Crowley's been saying something rather loudly for a week.

- Stopgap by RC_McLachlan

(3185 words) Rating: General Audiences

"Can you imagine ruining something so frustratingly perfect just to get a leg up with Management?" Crowley then remembers who he's talking to and why he's here in the first place. "Sorry, bad example, of course you can."

A missing scene from Episode 6.

- Think of Me Always by walkalittleline

(4454 words)  Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

There are many times Crowley comes a little too close to saying—or doing—something about how he feels. Plenty of times he finds himself dangerously close to getting too close to Aziraphale, stepping into his personal space and waiting to see how he reacts before getting even closer, so close there's not enough space between them even for God—that damned ineffable bastard—to interfere.

- Anthophilia by FortinbrasFTW

(49446 words) Rating: Explicit

Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

- it's a new craze by attheborder

(5541 words) 

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan. AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we? CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all. AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous. CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not.

***

Crowley and Aziraphale are very possibly the people least qualified, on the entire planet, to start up an advice podcast.

But what else is there to do when the world isn’t ending anytime soon, you’re technically on indefinite sabbatical from your lifelong careers, and you need a plausible excuse to spend more time with your best friend who you’re definitely not, absolutely not, maybe just a little, actually maybe overwhelmingly in love with?

- the deft, sweet gesture of your hand by deadgreeks

(12126 words) Rating: Explicit

Crowley arrives injured at Aziraphale's door. He takes care of him, reads him an awful lot of Mary Oliver, and knits elaborate metaphors for his insecurities (literally).

[beselten-pitch]

Mutually Assured Destruction

Alternate last year at Watford fic, written by the previous owner of simon-and-basilton

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen/ Epilogue

Chapter Fourteen

There are some words that people don’t like to say aloud. Maybe it’s because some words sound too real out loud. Too tangible. Too permanent. As though, if they’re just a half-thought idea, they won’t be quite as hard to carry.

“Betrayal” is one of those words.

“Heartbreak” is another.

Baz Pitch had left Watford. Once, he had thought he would never leave. Once, he had fallen in love. But now, but now, but now.

Betrayal.

Simon Snow had an empty room at Watford. Once, he had thought he would do anything to get rid of his roommate. Then, he had fallen in love.

But now there was a letter written in tilting, tumbling, falling-down-the-stairs cursive, clumsier than usual.

But now there was an empty bed with sheets that no longer smelled like wood and oranges and midnight make-out sessions.

Heartbreak.

Simon and Baz didn’t say the words out loud. Instead, they wore them, layering letters carefully on their skin. Invisibly inked tattoos.

They wore their words differently.

Baz wore betrayal with anger. He woke up in the mornings in an unfamiliar house, a house that was not Mummers and was not the Pitch mansion. It was a new place, a place he had never been before, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the reason he’d had to move there even more.

When he got up, he moved like his bones were matches, striking them and striking them and fire. He drew violin bow over strings, chin tilted, eyes closed—he played like he was burning.

His voice scraped, tectonic plates shaking into motion, earthquakes on fault lines. Sulfuric smiles and magma in his veins—he was always two seconds from boiling over.

Anyone who saw him knew it, the same way they knew their name or their own reflection: Baz Pitch was angry. That was the way he wore the word “betrayal”. Anger, his finest attire. Anger, which fit him better than his nicest suit jacket.

He was good at being angry.

It was better, this way, perhaps.

It was better for the Pitches, at least, because they could use this. They could work with this. An angry Baz was a Baz that could be manipulated. A Baz that would do what they wanted.

A Baz that would kill Simon Snow, if given the chance.

He wore it well. Betrayal. He wore it red and hot and enraged.

Heartbreak did not fit Simon quite as well.

He was built from brighter things than the dense yellow-gray smog of heartbreak. Simon was a glowing, glittering creature. The sea under sunlight. It seemed that he’d been built without the capacity for something as dark as this.

He wore heartbreak with sadness.

There weren’t tears, or theatrics. But his smiles were bruised, purpling—more fragile than they should’ve been. His laugh was not quite so loud, his smile was not quite so electric.

When people saw him, they had the strange urge to drag him out into the sunlight, or perhaps find a power cord and plug him in. He looked like his battery was running low. Tired. Feet dragging. In need of charging.

It didn’t look good on him.

Really, he was made of brighter things. Heartbreak tarnished all his metal edges, dulled the serrated bite of his grin.

No one liked to look at him for so long. They glanced at this new, duller Chosen One and they let their eyes slide away. It was uncomfortable to look at an oxymoron in motion. Cheeks so used to holding a smile, and yet they held nothing but a thin line. Eyes so used to twinkling, and yet they just stared.

Simon and Baz wore their words differently, but some things were the same.

That is to say, neither of them were happy.

 *

PENNY

Most of the time, there’s not a definitive moment that you can point at and say, “That is the moment when literally everything went to shit.”

Usually, the process of having literally everything go to shit takes time. It’s a gradual sort of thing, a catastrophe that happens in stages rather than all at once. Like plants growing—it’s best illustrated in time lapse. Here’s a series of photographs taken once a day for three months showing the exact sequence of events leading to everything going to shit.

Occasionally, however, there is a singular second when you can look around and say with a certain degree of certainty, “Yes. This is the moment.”

The moment Simon had stumbled into his room to find it empty and a single yellow Post-It note suck to his pillow, that was one of those moments. When Simon peeled the paper from fabric, flattened its curling edges, and read it.

She didn’t need to see the words to understand what it meant.

The cracks running across Simon’s face were enough. Like porcelain, shattering. She could feel the pop-crack-snapping of something breaking in a way that wouldn’t be fixed, not easily. Something that magic or duct tape or superglue didn’t stand a chance in putting back together.

It had been a week since she’d taken the note from Simon’s fingers, read it once, and then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trashcan.

I cannot fucking believe this, Snow. To think I said I loved you.

That was all.

 *

SIMON

Penny hadn’t stopped looking at him with suspicion. The same eyes that heralded disaster, that suggested she knew something that she wasn’t telling him. She eyed him sideways, sometimes, like she was making sure he wasn’t going to make any sudden movements.

But her painful, calamitous gaze had been tempered with a fair dose of pity, now. Pity and concern. The sort of sickeningly sweet heartfelt concern that made him feel like he was lying in a hospital bed surrounded by flowers and gift baskets overflowing with mini-muffins. Like he was a patient.

He wasn’t sure which was worse.

It was understandable, of course. Her careful worrying.

Baz…

Simon didn’t know what to think about Baz. He’d tried being angry, but he was so used to being angry at Baz. It was like trying on clothes that you’d worn constantly but had since become too large to fit into.

He had outgrown being angry at Baz.

There were so many more emotions now, things too big and unnamable for him to explain it. Memories of thumbprints on thighs and lips on lips and fingers tangled in hair.

Things even bigger than that.

Anger was no longer sufficient.

So he moped and felt sorry for himself, because he didn’t know what else to do. He was new to having his heart broken.

He ached, and he ached, and he was full of thoughts of Baz and thoughts of going off at Baz’s house and thoughts of the Mage, who had yet to reappear since Simon’s last ‘task’, and a million other thoughts. Thoughts upon thoughts. Bushels of them.

For someone who tried his best to avoid thinking about hard things, it was too much. You couldn’t expect to swing from thinking about nothing to everything without being overwhelmed by it all.

 *

BAZ

He woke up simmering.

Even lying still in this unfamiliar bed, not thinking, not being actively angry, he simmered. He popped and sparked and spat smoke at the sky.

It only escalated from there.

He found it so easy to go from simmering to boiling to blowing up the entire fucking world.

Anger was easy.

He heaved himself awake, heaved his feet over the side of the bed, and took great heaving steps to his wardrobe. He was heavy, that is. Weighed down with thoughts of Simon.

Simon; cheeks like roses, lips like fortune cookies

Simon; his laughter a feast, the only thing Baz craved more than blood

Simon; a lion glowing gold

He was angry.

Because there were all these beautiful things, gorgeous heavenly heavy things, and then there were facts.

Fact. The Pitch Mansion was empty of people and magic and life.

Fact. The hole that had swallowed Baz’s childhood home had arrived just after the Mage did.

Fact. Simon had helped the Mage. He’d helped the Humdrum.

These were the things that were true.

Simon, with his face an oil painting of warm colors and promises; Simon, with his cheeks and lips and freckles; Simon the lion—

He could so easily have been a lie.

Kisses, cascades of them, all lies. Lies upon lies.

Baz was angry, because no matter how many facts he listed, there was always that thrum in his ribcage. The desperate beatings of a flightless bird.

His stupid fucking heart.

Stop it. He thought, hard. Stop it, Crowley, don’t you remember?

He lied.

He lied, dammit.

But still, his heart, the damned fool. Still in love.

So, he raged. He simmered.

He was going to kill Simon Snow. It was easier than this, it had to be.

No you won’t.

You can’t.

Baz liked to think that he could do whatever he damn well pleased, regardless of what his heart said.

That, however, was doubtful.

 *

PENNY

The research was conclusive.

Simon Snow and the Insidious Humdrum were linked, if not the same thing.

She wasn’t sure what to do about the whole matter. Did Simon know? Was he faking it, this whole Chosen One act? Was he willingly stripping places of their magic?

Maybe he was a villain.

Maybe he had tricked them all.

She thought this, but said nothing. Logic told her not to say anything because, if Simon did happen to be a villain, he’d probably just kill her if he discovered that she knew.

But she didn’t stay quiet because of logic.

Despite it all, she didn’t want to believe Simon knew.

It could’ve been a charade, maybe. Maybe. But Penny had keen eyes and keener instincts, an intuition that never lied, and she didn’t think that Simon Snow was a villain.

He was just a boy.

So she said nothing, for a bit. Because she didn’t like the idea of ruining him with this sort of news. The irreversible kind of news.

He’d already had too much of that kind of news recently.

But she researched, and the correlation was clear. Simon going off and a hole appearing.

It made her sick, just a little.

 *

DAVY

He liked being called the Mage. It was better than some long official title. Because, although all of them were mages, only he got to capitalize the ‘M’. He liked the capital ‘M’. It made him feel important.

Things that made him feel important were his favorite.

Something else that made him feel important was Simon Snow. He liked being the Mage, because that meant Simon was the Mage’s Heir. Which meant that when people looked at Simon they saw him.

(And not because of any particular family resemblance. He’d gotten all of Lucy’s genes. It was better that way, he supposed.)

He liked having people look at Simon, the most powerful mage, and having them see him hidden in Simon’s shadow. Simon Snow was a weapon, and he was the one that held it.

He was the one who had pulled the sword from the stone. He was the one who knew all the nuclear launch codes.

With that kind of weapon, how could he lose?

How could the Old Families hope to win?

He’d already taken the Pitches’ magic. He’d killed the Pitch boy’s cousin in that blasted fire. It was only a matter of time, really.

It had become so easy.

Send his heir somewhere on a ‘mission’. Conjure up a beast to fight him, something that would push him to the edge. Have him go off.

And then, voila. A hole.

It didn’t matter that the Humdrum happened to destroy a few things that the Mage hadn’t intended to target now and then. It was war, and what war didn’t have casualties?

He stroked his beard, which he always kept nicely trimmed, because it made him feel important. He surrounded himself with his Men, with their uniforms and their obedient nods, because it made him feel important.

But he controlled Simon, and by extension, he controlled the Humdrum.

And that didn’t just make him feel important.

That made him the most important mage of them all.

The Mage.

How fitting.