#also crowley's raised eyebrow haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smolcinnamonchipmunk · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, I'm the one who ask for the yandere stuff. Idk, just thinking in Azul or Malleus knowing you wanna leave, but they can not see you leave! So they shrunk you and keep you in a precious bird cage, so you can be with them forever 💕

(I’m going to preface this by saying that all the characters are aged up by a decade when I write to be more college-aged like I’d assumed when I first started playing, and the whole thing is called Night Raven College, lmao. Threw me for a loop. So Azul’s 27 in this for me and with anything I write. Anyways, here’s Azul and Malleus reacting to Syn telling each that the research to send them home is advancing. I’ve also never tried writing anything yandere, so sorry if I get it wrong or it's OOC)

Azul Ashengrotto

“A toast, then,” Azul said after a moment, smiling as he walked to the back of his desk, opening a desk drawer and pulling out two glasses and a glass container of brandy or whiskey.

Syn chuckled a bit and sat on one of the VIP room’s couches, raising an eyebrow in amusement while replying, “I just said we were maybe getting somewhere with the research on getting me home, not that it was happening anytime soon. Knowing Crowley, I’ll be here until everyone I know graduates, so there’s no need for toasts. Makes it sound like we’re about to have goodbyes, haha.”

The man chuckled along with them, making them feel a bit better. When they’d first told him, he had reeled back a little in surprise, eyes widening behind his glasses as he asked what they meant. But he seemed to calm after they quickly told him that they weren’t leaving yet.

“It may not be goodbye just yet,” Azul hummed as he uncorked the glass container and started pouring the amber liquid into the glasses he’d brought out. “But, we may as well celebrate to the memories we’ve made so far. Though, I hope to be able to make more.”

“N’awww,” Syn laughed slightly, sighing a bit as they looked at one of the walls in thought, reminiscing on their time they’ve spent in Twisted Wonderland. With a melancholic smile, they said, “It’s almost weird thinking about going home. I’m gonna miss you guys a lot…”

“Then stay,” there was the clinking of glass and sound of wood against wood as they looked back up in time to see him close the drawer. He started to walk over with the cups in hand, having his own bittersweet smile on his face. “You don’t have to go.”

Syn’s eyebrows knitted together, knowing that this was going to be more difficult as it became closer to when they could leave. Azul would not be the last to try and convince them to stay. They gathered their resolve as much as they could and replied, “I can’t just stay here forever, Azul. I have friends and family back home. They’ve probably been worried sick about me. Hell, they probably think I’m dead… I can’t just leave them to grieve for me when I’m not.”

They watched his smile fall a bit, feeling their own emotions tug at their chest. They didn’t want to leave any of their friends, but they didn’t belong here… even if they stayed, where would they go, what would they do? After everyone went their separate ways and graduated?

Still, they tried to give Azul a reassuring smile, adding, “But, hey! If we find a way back to my home, maybe we’ll be able to set it up so that we can visit each other, yeah? That sounds plausible!”

The man blinked a bit in surprise at their suggestion, chuckling after a moment before sitting on the couch with them and offering the glass with less alcohol. “That does sound plausible. But, it’s also plausible that it’s one-way…”

“Don’t be such a worrywart,” Syn said, elbowing his shoulder gently, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there! In the meantime, let’s make the most of it, okay?”

Azul huffed a bit in bitter amusement, raising his glass to his lips, replying, “Yes… Let’s make the most of it.”

“Atta boy,” they smiled, thinking the response was better than him being completely sad. He’d probably feel a bit better after processing everything, and they could try and fill a scrapbook’s worth of memories until they left. As he drank some of his glass, they tilted their head back and downed their own, sticking their tongue out at the bitterness. They definitely preferred mixed drinks over straight liquor.

Although… this aftertaste wasn’t as bitter as it should be… And they didn’t miss the glance he gave them once they chugged the glass.

“A-Azul,” Syn asked warily, not liking the combination of red flags. They moved to get up and felt a wave of dizziness crash into them terrifyingly quickly, almost falling over. Instead, a hand pressed against their shoulder, guiding them back to the seat of the couch as the man in question stood up to prevent them from standing. Caught off guard, they tried to shove his hand off and demanded, “Wh-What did you do to me?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, avoiding the question. He placed his own glass down on the coffee table, expression both apologetic and disturbingly similar to the desperation just before his overblot. “I’ve got you.”

“Azul!” Syn weakly growled out in confusion, feeling more dizziness as their hold on his hand weakened quickly. Vision swimming, they closed their eyes for a moment. Or, what seemed like a moment.

They woke up on a soft surface, groggily pushing themself up to look around.

Bars? NRC didn’t have a dungeon or anything. Were they arrested or something? But no prison had gold bars or a plush, purple floor…And outside the bars was almost painfully bright to their still adjusting eyes.

“Ah, good! You’ve woken!”

Syn jolted at the surprisingly close and loud sound of Azul’s voice, heart hammering in their chest as they looked around, finding the man looking up from papers in his hand. They realized that they were in his room, on his desk… shrunk in a cage…

“A-Azul, what’d you do to me,” they asked, looking at their hands as their mind reeled in shock. They knew what he did though. He’d shrunk them and sedated them simultaneously. Placed them in a cage. Processing it, they instead immediately demanded, “WHY did you do this?”

He jolted as though surprised that they’d be alarmed by their predicament, nervousness etched across his face. His gaze flicked over them, torn.

“I- Y-You were going to make a rash decision,” he replied, trying to save face. But there was no taking back his actions, and the intent was obvious.

“You can’t just keep me from leaving,” Syn shouted, standing up. “You can’t just keep me here, that’s not fair!”

“I-I,” Azul struggled to think of what to respond and tears could be seen pricking the corners of his eyes. He growled a bit in frustration, making them back away a bit nervously as he began to laugh eerily familiarly, a desperate smile etching its way onto his face. “Ahahaha! Fair?! It’s not fair that you just come into Night Raven College and destroy my contracts! That you’ve changed me after helping me, making me care about more than just contracts and money, only to almost walk right back out of my life! I CAN’T go back to before! I WON’T!”

They watched, alarmed as he seemed to struggle with himself, wondering if they were about to witness another overblot. Can someone overblot twice?…

When it seemed like he wasn’t going to continue shouting, they cleared their throat to get his attention, trying to ignore the chill that ran down their spine and forcing themself to speak up, gently suggesting, “I-I… L-Look. If you just get me back to normal, we’ll talk it out… yeah?”

For a second, it seemed like their attempt of gentle persuasion was going to work, Azul’s gaze softening a little as they tried to give him a reassuring smile. But, it became overshadowed by harsh disappointment.

“No… You’re not going to change your mind just like that…” he said, a calculative look in his eyes. He leaned back in his chair and lifted his glasses to wipe away the tears with a thumb, standing up. He walked to the door and paused. “I’m sorry, Syn.. But I can’t let you go… I’d say it’s not personal, but it very much is..”

Syn stiffened as the man opened the door and walked out, grabbing the bars of the cage as they exclaimed, “AZUL!”

Their call went unheeded, and they were left alone in their gilded cage as the door closed.

Malleus Draconia

“Are you okay, Hornton,” Syn asked, the taller man just staring at them after they told him that there’d been a breakthrough in maybe getting them home soon on his walk by Ramshackle. Nervously, they waved a hand in front of his face. “Malleus?… You okay?…”

They jolted a bit when he eventually blinked and moved, breathing a sigh of relief and putting a hand to their chest. “Jesus! Don’t scare me like that! I was worried that I broke you or something, hehe.”

Malleus didn’t laugh though. Instead, he had a more serious face as he placed a hand to his chin thoughtfully, asking them, “Are you certain, child of man?”

“Heh? Certain about what,” they frowned in confusion. That.. wasn’t really the reaction they’d been expecting.

“Certain that this possibility might take you home,” he clarified.

“Oh,” Syn rubbed the back of their neck. “I mean, maybe. Maybe not. Seems promising though!… I’m gonna miss all of you guys. Even you, Hornton, in case you think you’re excluded from that somehow, haha.”

Their attempt to lighten the mood didn’t seem to work, the fae closing his eyes and humming for a second.

“So… you’re planning to leave…” Malleus murmured, brow furrowing slightly.

“Well, y-yeah, but it’s probably not gonna happen for a while longer,” Syn frowned worriedly, wondering if maybe they shouldn’t have told him. They didn’t expect him to take it this hard though. Shivering as a breeze began to pick up, they added, “We’ll have plenty of time to hang out though! I’m sure I could even convince Riddle to let me invite you to an Unbirthday party or two!”

It began to drizzle and thunder cracked in the distance.

“Syn,” Malleus opened his eyes, looking at them intently.

“Uh, yeah?…”

“If you had to choose,” he said slowly, seemingly hesitant and uncharacteristically somber. “Between your home and here… Which would it be?”

“I-… Hornton, you can’t just drop a bombshell of a question like that, my guy,” Syn chuckled, trying to mask their sadness. But, the man just stared at them, expecting an answer that they reluctantly sighed and gave. “I’d. I’d like to be able to go between both, but.. I have family and friends, Malleus. I can’t just leave them behind…”

“I see,” Malleus seemed disheartened, making Syn’s heart ache.

They tried to fight back against their sadness, knowing it will only get harder to leave as time goes on. They ignored the rain as it began to pour, reaching to place a hand on his arm, saying, “Trust me.. I don’t want to leave you guys too…”

“Then don’t,” he urged, cat-like eyes taking on a pleading quality.

“Malleus,” Syn whispered, expression saddening. Was it going to be this difficult saying goodbye to everybody when the time came?

They couldn’t bring themself to reassure the man more, but they also couldn’t say that they would leave without hesitation. The lack of further response left the fae’s face to fall, another crack of thunder somewhere. They shivered as the air seemed to grow colder.

“Syn,” Malleus murmured, able to be heard despite the rain pattering around them. He grabbed their hand from his arm and used it to pull them closer, startling them. He bent enough to press his forehead against theirs, one arm still holding their hand while his other arm looped behind their waist, effectively trapping them against him. “I have enjoyed our time together-.”

“M-Malleus,” Syn yelped nervously, unsure how to feel about the sudden close contact or the situation.

“- and as such, I will bestow a gift upon you,” the man continued as though they had said nothing, closing his eyes. His grip around them tightened and a magical pressure began to permeate the air. “A blessing… though, you will see it as a curse.”

“Malleus, wh-what are you talking about?” they asked, their only response being a hummed lullaby they didn’t know, head beginning to swim. They fought against it, fought to keep their eyes open. But, they were nothing compared to his magic, their eyes closing to darkness with the last thing they heard being his humming and the sound of rain.

When they woke, they were dry and on something plush, pushing themself up groggily to look around. It wasn’t overly dark, but their eyes still struggled to adjust, noticing the green fabric beneath them before seeing the golden bars curved around them.

“What the-,” Syn groaned a bit before stiffening as their body sensed they were being watched and yelped when they noticed Malleus looking at them from outside the cage on his couch, everything massive compared to them.

“Child of man. You’re awake,” the man said, seemingly relieved.

“M-Malleus,” they exclaimed anxiously, the last thing they remembered was talking to him in the rain. “I- is this your ‘blessing’?!”

Malleus seemed disappointed at their reaction, but not surprised, sighing before replying, “Indeed. With this, no harm shall befall you. And, you need not struggle with your own heart on whether to stay or go.”

Syn’s eyes widened, realizing what this was about and tensing. “You can’t just trap me to keep me from leaving!”

“Oh? But I already have,” the fae replied, making their heart sink in their chest at his genuine surprise that was usually so endearing if he didn’t understand something. “Rather easily.”

“I meant that you ‘shouldn’t’ trap me to keep me from leaving,” they tried to clarify, standing up. “There’s plenty of time before I-.”

“There is NOT,” Malleus’s expression quickly soured, the air growing cold. Almost desperately, he tried to explain, “An abundance of time for you is merely a blink for me! I… I can’t release you, lest I lose you entirely…”

They blinked a bit in surprise, frowning a bit in sympathy. Gently, they tried to reason with him, “That’s what makes every moment important!… Look, if you just let me out, we can pretend none of this happened and-.”

“No,” Malleus said firmly, standing. He walked over to the desk and lifted the cage, making them fall against the plush floor of it with a yelp. “I need to spend as much time as I can with you before…. Before you’re gone.”

“M-Mal… Hornton… You can’t just keep me in here with you for the rest of my life…”

“I can,” the fae’s green eyes hardened with firm resolve, even if there was an underlying sadness. “And I will.”

#cinnanswers #cinnwrites #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #twst azul #twst malleus #twst oc #syn

23 notes · View notes

ritz-writes · 8 months ago

Text

YAYY part means more live reacting! lets go!

but the image is in my head and I thought it was funny having cars on shelves with little description tags like some kind of Automobile Costco Warehouse.

so valid

Deciding on a car, on the other hand, was a bit more complicated.

no, crowley, u cannot rent a bentley

NOR CAN U MIRACLE UR BENTLEY HERE

He shoves his hands in his pockets, practically spitting the last word like it’s some kind of curse. Anathema raises an eyebrow at him, but otherwise says nothing.

anthema is so done with his lmaoo

“I believe it says it’s a…Tesla?”

aziraphale step AWAY

“Well,” You begin counting on your fingers, “It farts, it can see ghosts, and it may or may not explode while we’re in it, SO!” You see Crowley’s face light up. “Sounds like my kind of car!”

CROWLEY ASDFGF

“What we need is a 1967 Chevy Impala!”

YES. yes we do in fact need that. i see no other option. this is the only correct answer

And THAT, dear Reader, is how you find out that none of them have seen Supernatural. Or heard of it, even. Criminal, really.

>:0 criminal indeed

In the end, Anathema suggests a very practical SUV and well, you’ve all learned not to argue with her by now.

id be staring longingly at the impala as we drive away, murmuring "goodbye my beloved..." 😭

Honestly the woman needs a cake for putting up with the three of you.

yes she does. maybe jesus can give her some much needed wine when they meet him. assuming he isnt a baby, that is

And you press play on The Book of Love. And you watch their faces. You want to see their reaction when it gets to the part about wedding rings.

HEHEHEHEHE

“Uuuummm, the ones that aren’t breakup songs you mean? Pretty much yeah.”

LMAO

“Go on then,” he says, “Which Queen songs do you have on that playlist of yours?”

pls put on lover boy pls put on lover boy-

“Um…Somebody to Love, and Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy,” You finish meekly. Crowley nearly crashes the car.

HAHA

“Crowley? Trying to impress you, no doubt.” “Pft!” Comes Crowley’s response from behind you, “Right, and not at all because to get up here you need a special passkey, which keeps unexpected guests few, far between, and easy to notice.”

okay that is a good point, but u dont fool be crowley. i know ur still making sure ur angel only gets the best of the best

okay voting time!! im voting for metatron (actually surprising myself with that) cuz im curious to see what hes thinking rn. also so i can make fun of him during my live reactions lol

a lovely chapter as always, puffin <3

Fanatic Intervention Part 12!!!

This post features the way I think renting cars works. I'm very sure it doesn't actually work this way, and I could have researched it, but the image is in my head and I thought it was funny having cars on shelves with little description tags like some kind of Automobile Costco Warehouse.

Also, I'm gonna link my playlist because I feel like you all might be interested to see the list of songs I'm working from lol.

Fun fact, the playlist used to be called List of Holding and was meant to be a small collection of songs that I wanted to hear REALLY often. But, um...well, I've since had to change the name :P

This is All Good Omens Now Who Am I Kidding

And yes, I'm very VERY picky about my Queen songs.

OKAY here we go.

Beginning || Previous || Next

********************

In the end, it was surprisingly easy to find a rental company willing to loan you all a car (considering that three out of the four of you have no identification, documents, credit score, valid driver’s licenses, etc.). Deciding on a car, on the other hand, was a bit more complicated.

“I don’t understand why I can’t just miracle the Bentley over,” Crowley whines as the four of you wander the aisles of cars.

“Well for starters, the steering wheel is on the wrong side,” Anathema reasons.

“The wheel’s not on the wrong side! All of these have steering wheels on the wrong side! They drive on the wrong side of the road here too! Americans!” He shoves his hands in his pockets, practically spitting the last word like it’s some kind of curse. Anathema raises an eyebrow at him, but otherwise says nothing.

“Ooh!” Aziraphale calls from further ahead, “Look at this one! The description says that it’s very good for the environment. I mean, aesthetically speaking it isn’t anything extraordinary, but I do like all of these things written on the tag.”

“What kind of car is it?” Anathema asks.

“I believe it says it’s a...Tesla?”

You snort a laugh. “I am NOT getting into one of those things,” You say between giggles.

“Why not?” Aziraphale’s confusion is genuine – you can see it in his face.

“Well,” You begin counting on your fingers, “It farts, it can see ghosts, and it may or may not explode while we’re in it, SO!” You see Crowley’s face light up.

“Sounds like my kind of car!” He says, making his way towards the car that Aziraphale is inspecting.

“No,” Anathema sounds like she’s talking to a child. Or maybe a dog. “No, we are not riding in a Tesla. I’m with you on this one,” she says in your direction.

“I have a suggestion,” You pipe up, raising your hand.

“Oh-ho!” Crowley calls. He leaned slightly to the left, and took off between the aisles. All three of you have to jog to keep up with him. He’s stopped in front of an enormous Hummer. “Now THIS is a CAR!”

Anathema is shaking her head.

“No, wait, listen, I have it,” You say, and everyone turns to look at you expectantly. “It’s the only logical option here. It fits the vintage vibe that you two like, and it’s the most reliable car I know of aside from Bentley.”

“Well go on,” encourages Anathema, “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

“What we need is a 1967 Chevy Impala!”

And THAT, dear Reader, is how you find out that none of them have seen Supernatural. Or heard of it, even. Criminal, really. You resolve to make them watch it next chance you get. In the end, Anathema suggests a very practical SUV and well, you’ve all learned not to argue with her by now.

Honestly the woman needs a cake for putting up with the three of you.

Also, as it turns out, one of the perks of having a current car model is that you can sync up your playlist to the bluetooth. So guess who ends up in charge of the music.

“And THIS one,” You say, flicking through your playlist, “Is a song that was suggested for the Season 3 playlist by Neil Gaiman himself!” And you press play on The Book of Love. And you watch their faces. You want to see their reaction when it gets to the part about wedding rings.

“Are all of your songs for us love songs?” Aziraphale asks. He stopped complaining about your taste in music an hour ago. Crowley is driving, and Anathema has been zoned out for a while now.

“Uuuummm, the ones that aren’t breakup songs you mean? Pretty much yeah.”

Crowley groans.

“Except for like, Queen and Hozier.”

Crowley groans again.

“I thought you liked Queen,” You are shocked and alarmed. Crowley rolls his whole head (probably because you wouldn’t see him roll his eyes behind his sunglasses).

“Go on then,” he says, “Which Queen songs do you have on that playlist of yours?” He glares at you through the rearview mirror. Suddenly, you hesitate.

“Um...Somebody to Love, and Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy,” You finish meekly. Crowley nearly crashes the car. Whether it was on purpose or not doesn’t matter. Anathema takes the wheel and he gets demoted to the back seat. Next to you. As a peace offering, you hand him your phone with your spotify open, and let him take charge of the music. You feel that you might not survive the ride otherwise.

Google Maps pegs the estimated driving time from NYC to New Orleans at 19 hours. Splitting the driving between a demon and a responsible human woman, the four of you manage a respectable 12 hours including a number of breaks to: use the washroom, get coffee, get food, look at the view, poke around a used bookshop, pick some apples, eat the apples, and buy some fudge. Crowley refuses to admit that he may or may not have stopped time once or twice, and Aziraphale refuses to account for your sudden bursts of energy from time to time (conveniently and suspiciously whenever there was a stop he was interested in).

So, having made excellent time, all four of you arrive in New Orleans. Crowley is back at the wheel now, and he pulls the car into the parking lot of The Ritz. Because of course it’s The Ritz again. Anathema doesn’t even comment this time. You figure she was probably expecting it. Learning fast, that one. You check in, and aren’t all that surprised to find that you’ve been booked into the fanciest suite in the place once again. According to the pamphlet at the front desk, this suite is supposed to only be two rooms, but when you arrive, you find that it actually contains 3. Why? Supernatural beings who influence their surroundings.

“You really do have some expensive taste,” You say casually to Aziraphale as you place your bag on the floor.

“It was Crowley who booked this one,” the angel replies, inspecting the knick-knacks on a shelf to his left.

“Crowley? Trying to impress you, no doubt.”

“Pft!” Comes Crowley’s response from behind you, “Right, and not at all because to get up here you need a special passkey, which keeps unexpected guests few, far between, and easy to notice.” He gives you a pointed look over his sunglasses. “We’ve been lucky so far that we’ve been left alone since Heathrow. But don’t think for a minute that he won’t be back.”

“That’s...fair.” You pause and think for a minute. “Then we should probably limit going out too. Unless we really need to.”

“That would be best, yes,” Anathema agrees, “But please, leave the hotel staff alone.”

Well, honestly she could only expect that request to go so far once Aziraphale found the room service menu.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

#good omens #ritz live reacts #thats gonna be the tag now

43 notes · View notes

twst-bs · 3 years ago

Text

NRC Students and an Anxious MC

And with this, I've done all of the students at NRC!! Well, with the nervous MC, anyway, I have some other stuff in the works too.

Also, in case anyone was wondering, I'm open for both requests and commissions!

-----

Ace: “You look awful.”

The Ramshackle Prefect shot Ace a glare, but it lacked their usual fire. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” he caught up with them easily when they turned around to keep walking. “I just meant you looked like you had a rough night. Or like you’re stressed out. You know.”

“Your grave only has to be six feet, Ace, you can stop digging now.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “You aren’t usually this crabby. Seriously, what’s up?”

They sighed. “You’re right, I had a rough night.”

“Any particular reason why? Or just ‘cause?”

The two of them had reached Crewel’s classroom, but they still had a few minutes before they had to be in there. The Prefect bit their lip nervously. “I kind of freaked out last night because of the homework.”

“It was pretty hard, huh?”

“Well, that too,” they crossed their arms, almost like they were trying to hide themself. “But, it’s like...I feel stupid, you know? You guys all know this magic stuff, but I’m struggled to handle even the basics. Then I thought, well, if I can’t handle the basics, I’m going to get punished, and I would deserve it because I’m an idiot, and...you can see how the spiral went.”

Ace was quiet for a moment, studying them with an unreadable expression. Then, he heaved out a side and grabbed their wrist, tugging them into the classroom. “I guess it can’t be helped, then.”

“Huh?”

He plopped unceremoniously into his seat and dug around in his bag. “Be quick about it, okay? Queen only knows what Crewel’s punishment for getting caught copying homework is.”

The Prefect stared at Ace with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Ace shrugged, slapping his notebook down on the desk. “If he says anything, I’ll tell him you helped me word it. Now, come on!”

Deuce: They weren’t getting anywhere.

The longer they stared at the question on their worksheet, the less they could focus. Apparently this was supposed to be basic stuff, but there were so many strange ingredients with different magical properties that they couldn’t keep track. And the more that had to flip back and forth between their textbook and worksheet, the more stupid they felt.

“...right? Hey, are you alright?”

Deuce’s voice broke through the panic that was beginning to set in, and when they finally looked up, his blue eyes were wide with concern.

“What? I’m sorry, Deuce, I kinda...spaced there for a minute.”

That only made the crease in Deuce’s brow deepen. “You looked really freaked out. Is something wrong?”

The two of them had made a habit out of studying in the library together. Since Deuce wasn’t the best student and the Prefect was playing a very intense game of catch up, they figured they could motivate each other while studying. But lately, all they had been able to do was sit there and be anxious about everything.

"I...um…" They absent-mindedly clicked their pen, unable to look Deuce in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked incredulously. "For real, are you alright?"

The genuine worry in his expression made something in them burst. They threw their pen down on the table and buried their face in their hands. "I don't know what I'm doing! I went from magic not existing to suddenly having to study it, and I can't even master the basics! I'm terrified that I'll fail and Crowley will kick me out and -"

"Whoa, whoa, hey, it's okay!" Deuce's chair scraped against the floor as he hurried over to their side, grasping their hands in his. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Their chest heaved as they tried to suck in enough air. "But -"

"Listen," he cut them off. "The stuff you have to deal with is a lot. And I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier. If you want, we can go to Professor Crewel and ask for some tutoring, or even remedial lessons. Whatever you need, I'll help."

Cater: “What are you looking at?”

At the sound of the Ramshackle Prefect’s voice from behind the couch he was sitting on in the Heartslabyul lounge, Cater lolled his head back to grin at them. “Heya! Just scrolling through Magicam, what else is new?”

“That is your favorite pastime, huh?” they leaned on the back of the couch, looking at the screen.

“What are you doing in Heartslabyul, anyway?” he asked.

“Ace thought he could get away with not studying if he ‘forgot’ his textbooks at Ramshackle. I’m returning them before Riddle thinks I was in on it.””

“Yeah, that tracks.”

The two of them lapsed into a companionable silence, the Prefect watching as Cater scrolled. However, out of the corner of his eye, he could see their expression gradually get tighter and tighter, like they were trying to control whatever emotion was trying to show through.

“What’s with that face?”

“What face?” they asked defensively. “This is just my face.”

“That’s the face you make when you start having bad thoughts but don’t want anybody to know.”

“Get out of my head, Cater.”

He snorted, turning so he was sitting sideways on the couch and could get a better look at them. “Come on, tell Cay what’s on your mind.”

They hesitated, picking idly at the loose thread on the couch. “...It’s just me being stupid.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“...The people on Magicam are way more good-looking than I am.” the finally mumbled, looking away. “I keep wondering when you’ll realize that.”

Cater’s green eyes widened before he giggled. “Nope.”

“Nope what?”

“I won’t realize it,” he reached around them to pull their face closer, kissing them affectionately on the cheek. “Because it’s not true. And whenever you start to think like that, you tell me, so I can reassure you.”

Jack: Something felt off.

Nothing in particular had happened, it was just one of those days. But, it was bad enough that they thought about just going back to Ramshackle instead of waiting for Jack like they normally did. Waiting outside of the classroom just made them feel even more antsy.

Just as they were about to shoot him a text to say that they weren’t feeling well - which wasn’t technically a lie - said wolf came out of the classroom, tail wagging involuntarily when he saw them waiting like it wasn’t an everyday occurrence.

Before he could even greet them, however, his nose scrunched up. Furrowing his eyebrows, he leaned down and began sniffing them.

“Jack, what the hell?”

“You’re nervous about something.”

Right. Nothing could beat that canine sense of smell.

“It’s nothing.” Jack opened his mouth to reply, but they cut him off. “No, literally. Nothing actually happened, it’s just a...a weird day, I guess.”

It was clear from the expression on his face that Jack didn’t quite understand, but the guy was nothing if not sympathetic. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Nah, it should eventually work itself out.” They tried to muster up an encouraging grin, but from the look on Jack’s face, they didn’t quite hit the mark. “I’m fine, Jack, promise.”

His tail had dropped, and his ears were pressed against his head. “...When I get worked up, going for a jog usually helps me. Gets all the energy out.”

They raised an eyebrow. “You and I both know that your jogging is my sprinting.”

“Then I’ll walk and you jog,” he grinned. “If you want to, that is.”

They paused before shrugging. “I probably won’t do a good job on the homework if I’m like this, anyway.”

Floyd: Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Crewel will turn you into a rug if he catches you falling asleep.

Their internal monologue was the only thing preventing them from passing out onto their desk. They had had a hard time falling asleep last night, and of course they were working on sleeping draughts in Alchemy today. The vapor wafting from the cauldron was enough to knock them out.

They hadn’t noticed that their eyes had closed until a hard knock on the classroom door startled them open. When Crewel called out for whoever it was to come in, the door opened to reveal Floyd.

“The Headmaster wants to see Shrimpy!” he sang, leaning against the doorframe. Crewel nodded, motioning with his pointed cane for the Prefect to get out.

Physically shaking themself awake, they stood. Next to them, Ace went “Oooooooh~”

“Trappola, just for that, you’re responsible for giving them the notes for the lesson.”

“Aw, come on!”

They didn’t even have the energy to stick their tongue out like they usually would. They just inched past all of the other students until they were at Floyd’s side. The merman casually slung an arm around their shoulder and steered them out of the classroom.

“What does the Headmaster want?” they asked. It could literally be anything, honestly.

“Oh, I lied!” Floyd giggled. “He doesn’t need to see you at all.”

“Huh?”

“You looked exhausted this morning,” Floyd tugged them closer. Not quite a squeeze, but there was something intensely protective in the embrace. “I figured you could use a nap.”

“So you busted me out of class?”

“Yup! This makes me your favorite, right?” he grinned, showing all of his teeth.

“Definitely.”

Epel: They always did have a nervous stomach.

There was a test in Trein’s class that day. No matter how much they studied the night before, they didn’t feel prepared, and their stomach was committing mutiny in response. They hadn’t been able to eat any breakfast, so now they were nauseated and hungry at the same time. They were either going to puke on the test or eat it, they hadn’t decided yet.

“Are you alright?”

They jumped. They had been so caught up in their own head that they hadn’t even heard Epel approach. “Hey. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of test anxiety, haha.”

Epel didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You look kinda pale.”

“Really, I’m fine. I was just a bit too nervous to eat breakfast.” they insisted.

“Well, that’s not good.” Epel frowned. “You’ll do even worse on the test if you’re hungry.”

Oh, why did he have to phrase it like that? Just the thought made their already roiling stomach turn, and they whined softly as they hugged themself around the middle.

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” he backtracked. “I just meant it won’t do you any good!”

Epel reached into his bag for a moment, mumbling to himself. “I know I have some in here...ah-ha!” he pulled out a bag of dried apple chips. “Here! It’s not exactly a full meal, but it’ll help. And they’re really light, so if you’re sick because of nerves, they won’t upset your stomach.”

“Are you sure?” they asked as Epel handed them the bag.

“Pos’tive.” he grinned. “I’ve got plenty back at the dorm. And Ma’s always sending me stuff from the farm anyway. So go ahead, I don’t want you passing out!”

Sebek: They had no idea what he was talking about.

It was a feat in and of itself to be able to not pay attention to Sebek. The man was a walking lightning bolt. But today was just not a good day, mentally.

A pity, too. They always liked walking around in the woods with Sebek. Something about being in nature and listening to him talk passionately about whatever was on his mind was almost soothing, but it just wasn’t working this time.

“Are you listening?”

They jumped when he said their name. They had gotten so sucked into their own head that they hadn’t noticed him turn his monologue into a conversation. “I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? Is everything alright?” he looked them up and down with sharp amber eyes, scanning for anything that could present any danger. “Are you ill?”

“No, no, it’s not…” they sighed, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Nightmares.”

Bad dreams had been a problem before they arrived in Twisted Wonderland, but now they were really plaguing them. It made concentrating difficult, even on simple things such as a walk with their partner.

Sebek stepped in front of them, forcing them to stop in their tracks. His angular features were serious, thrown into deep contrast from the light of the sun setting between the leaves. He clasped both of their hands in his own, holding them tightly as he looked into their eyes.

“You needn’t worry about such things. I will not let anything harm you, even your own mind.” he squeezed their hands. “On my honor as a knight.”

Silver: Watching Silver train with a sword was...something else.

They could watch him all day, going after the training dummy like it was actually an enemy.

Well, usually, they could.

It had been another sleepless night, up worrying about all the various things they needed to do. They only managed to fall asleep around four AM, and they needed to be at their first class by eight, so they hadn’t exactly gotten well-rested. They were impressed that they had managed to stay awake during their lessons, but now it was catching up to them.

The warm sun shining on their face and the rhythmic swishing of Silver’s practice sword was vaguely soothing, and before they really knew it they had slumped against the tree they were sitting under, fast asleep.

When they awoke, they were moving. It took a minute to gather themself, and they blinked sleepily at their surroundings.

“You can go back to sleep.” Silver’s voice rumbled against their side. He was carrying them. “We aren’t that far from Ramshackle.”

“...You could have woken me up.” they mumbled, nuzzled closer to his chest. “I would have walked.”

“You looked so peaceful.” he responded, adjusting his grip. “Unless you want me to put you down?”

“No.” they sighed. “This is nice. Me and Grim are always saying that it takes forever to get to Ramshackle from anywhere in the school, I’ll take the ride.”

Silver chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to their forehead. “Go to sleep.”

#twisted wonderland #disney's twisted wonderland #twst ace #twst deuce #twst cater #twst jack #twst floyd #twst epel #twst sebek #twst silver #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #jack howl #floyd leech #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt

95 notes · View notes

sandbees · 4 years ago

Note

hahaha finally your]'re open again, so how about, if you ever played the game undertale, how about yuu being from the undertale universe? haha imagine also being a fallen child, accompanying frisk as they traverse the underground. if you want fluff do a pacifist route and angst for a genocide route

:00 I LOVED UNDERTALE. It was actually the first (or second? Idk) fandom I joined when I had access to the internet.

Anyways, while Yuu being a human falling into the Underground sound so cool, I also want Monster!Yuu.

Imagine the c o n t e n t: they know most of the monsters, the history, and they know m a g i c.

What kind of monster is Yuu? DOG, because animal-like monsters are the most common type of monsters and also I want Yuu to be apart of the Royal guard dogs.

Anyways, you can imagine the surprise to see an actual dog in a suit of armor walk in with Crowley. (It raises a few eyebrows but no one comments, I mean, look at Savannaclaw). Would have been sorted into Savannaclaw if the maGIC MIRROR RECOGNIZED THEIR MAGIC-

They’re also big on pets. They will pet Grim (and also have a mid-life crisis when Ace points out how a dog monster is literally petting a cat monster)

Does not mind their friends petting them, actually encourages it! (“If it makes you feel better, go ahead!”)

Sweet angel, you’re going to cry about how kind and sweet they are.

During battles, Yuu casually holds out a mace that came out of nowhere. ALSO THEIR BATTLE TECHNIQUES THAT’LL RIP OUT THE SOULS AND MAKE THEM FIGHT-

IMAGINE THAT WHEN THE OVERBLOT’S SOUL IS THEIR SOUL COLOR, BUT COVERED IN BLOT.

Anyways, wouldn’t it be cool to see their soul color? Yuu’s friends sometimes ask to see their soul color. Yuu happily agrees and even tells them what the color means and what they could do using their magic.

AND ALSO- YUU USING CYAN MAGIC (Patience magic??). Just - I imagine that Yuu summon’s the one braincell trio’s souls and put them on time-out VIA magic. Now they can’t move without feeling pain :) (...that’s kind of brutal, ngl. Yuu only uses it if they’re doing something extremely life-threatening dumb).

Now, after the fluff, onto the ANGST

One day, Yuu is hanging out with the first years during lunch and casually says, “Being here makes me so happy! Everything is so different, I never really knew the sky would be so blue!”

Ace laughs and says, “Really? Why? Is your sky another color?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Actually, I never got to see the sky when I was born. Or, maybe I did but I was probably a pup back then.”

This made the group quiet down.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, well, you see...”

And Yuu explains the history between the Monster vs. Human war. They spoke with such passion about the subject that the tables surrounding them quieted down to listen. It ends up as a history lesson of Yuu’s world.

:( Everyone feels bad for the monsters in Yuu’s world. And now Yuu’s friends want to show Yuu what it’s like being on the surface. Especially the Octavanille trio. They also relate to how they also have never experienced a lot of things on the surface. LISTEN, FLOYD AND YUU GOING OUT TO DO SOME RANDOM THING LIKE SKY DIVING OR COMMITTING MURDER EATING NEW FOODS.

It’s just hurt/comfort but Yuu doesn’t realize it because they’re having the time of their life with their friends.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland headcannons #twisted wonderland yuu #undertale #undertale au #monster!yuu #ask #dog monster!yuu

240 notes · View notes

dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

Note

for a birthday boi crumb: Ace manages to seduce a teacher!MC and then blackmails her into becoming his plaything or he's telling Crowley about their little affair (maybe sensei is also a married woman!!)..

You should’ve been a lot more careful, you want to believe that even though you were really drunk that night, you were still aware of what you were saying. It’s just that this particular student of yours, Ace Trappola, has some way with words. He was able to take advantage of your drunken self as easy as that.

“It’s my birthday tomorrow and it’s kinda lonely, you know? Won’t you help me celebrate, Sensei~?” It’s a shame for you to admit that especially when you’re drunk, your sympathy levels go through the roof and you were that close to tears upon hearing that he’s allegedly alone in his birthday. So naturally, you accepted to help him as his teacher, determined to throw him a small party that he’ll never forget. Everything came out as a blur for you after that, he invited you to a room and before you knew it...

...You just woke up the next day with a massive hang-over and not to mention that same student, Ace Trappola, was sleeping soundly next to you on that same bed...Clothes were also nowhere to be found on your bodies and your hair was a mess. There might have been a hickey on both your and your student’s skin but that was nothing compared to the extreme panic you had as you slowly realized what you just did with your very own student that night.

“T-Trappola-kun, what is the meaning of this...!?” He just smiled at you as he teasingly waved a picture in front of you. Specifically, a picture of you, looking absolutely wasted and ecstatic about the fact that you were fucking one of your students.

“Oh, last night was just amazing that I had to keep a souvenir for myself, you know~?” Ace smirked at the way your face paled. “Who knew you were such a beast in the sheets, Sensei~? I wonder if I made a fantasy of yours come true? To fuck an underage student of yours like that~?”

“N-No, that’s not true! I-I was-!” You cut yourself off, blaming the alcohol is a completely selfish reason to prove how irresponsible you were. Seeing how Ace’s smirk got wider, damn kid knew that already and was about to use those words against you. There was no point in trying to prove yourself to him anymore, he knew that you weren’t yourself that night but he wouldn’t acknowledge that. Instead, you took a deep breath and hold out your hand, giving him a serious look but a drop of sweat accidentally fell from your forehead. “...Trappola-kun, just give that to me, okay? If you’re angry that I...touched you in the wrong way, I’m sorry. But you don’t have to make this harder than it has to be, let’s talk about it properly.”

Ace blinked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Angry? You think I’m angry, Sensei?” He asked before bursting out in a hearty laughter. “Haha! Why would I be angry? I’m not some school girl who frets over getting their virginity being stolen!”

Ace covered his mouth, as if he was trying to control his laughter before looking at you with a lovesick expression. You shivered as his cheeks transitioned in a fair shade of pink as his lips twisted into a loop-sided smile. “...In fact, I’m thankful for it. It’s everything I could ever dream of, Sensei~” He said as he stuck out his tongue at you in a teasing but seductive manner. “That’s why, I won’t give it to you. Everyone needs to know about this!”

You widened your eyes at his sudden plan. “If I showed this to the Headmaster, you’ll probably get fired right on the spot and you’ll spend the rest of your life taking responsibility for laying your hands on me!” He grinned with his darkening up. “Just a few fake sobs here and there and ta-da~! It’ll completely fool those unsuspecting adults! No one will be able to tell that I actually enjoyed that awesome experience~!”

“What do yo think? As expected from a clever student like me, huh~?” He cheered, smiling so proudly. “Are you impressed yet, Sensei~?”

“W-Wait! Let’s not go there, please!” You desperately tried to talk him way out of this. You tried to keep your lips from quavering, trying to formulate plans in your head to somehow convinced this deranged kid. Using magic against him will break your teacher’s oath and that would just add up evidence that you were indeed being forceful with him. “W-What do you want, Trappola-kun? It’s your birthday today, right? I’ll get you anything you want, just hand that picture to me, okay?”

You gulped at what you were saying, why were you talking to him like he’s a naughty little toddler? “Do you want me to raise up your grades? I-I can do that, no problem! You can even skip class and I’ll make sure your grades will never suffer!” You suggested, trying to give him a comforting smile but ending up twitching ever so often. “A-Anything, Trappola-kun! Anything! I’ll give it to you...Just...Just don’t do anything that horrible, please...”

Ace fiddled with the sinful photo of you before stuffing them in his pocket. “Raise my grades, huh...? I don’t really care much about that, you know?” He hummed as he steps closer to you with the same evil smirk coming back to his face. “What I much rather want...”

You shivered as he grazed his hand from your arms, going up to caress your cheeks. “...Is your everything, Se~ensei~” He whispered in your ear. “So, be a good girl for me and I’ll be a good boy to you, okay? If you can do that, then I promise this picture won’t be able to reach anyone’s eyes but mine.”

Aaaaahhh I love the concept of Twst bois being so obsessed with their Teacher Darling~! (๑>◡<๑)

#ace trappola #yandere ace trappola #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #yandere #Birthday Crumbs (Ace)#Talk with Yume

111 notes · View notes

snowrobin-133 · 5 years ago

Text

So uh, i had this idea of a soulmate au floating around in my head and like since I didn't have any requests to do at the time, I decided to write it down

This will only be 3rd POV reader (Yuu) x Jamil with a bit of a vague ending. I'm going with Jamil because he's my favorite, but if you want me to do it with someone else, feel free to send in a request!

Also this was done in 3-5 in the morning so sorry if there are any mistakes or OOC!

Soulmates in this world were common, whether their soulmate would be their best friend forever, or someone that was their true love. Everyone had a red string that connected to their soulmate. This red string was invisible to everyone but the pair and could only be touched, tugged, etc by them. If one or both end up dying though, the red string turns to dust.

There were a select few though, that didn't have a red string. No one knew why, and these people, would vanish with no trace every time. It was frightening, for both the person and their family.

Yuu, she found herself to be one of these people. She didn't think much of it until one day, her teacher talked about it. Looking around, she didn't see a red string tied to her finger. So she raised her hand, asking, "Miss, why don't I have a string?"

The teacher went silent and stared at Yuu. She tries to crack a smile, "Haha...Y-Yuu, you are joking…right?"

Yuu tilted her head, "I'm not. Why?"

Terror set in the teacher's face. She quietly spoke, "Yuu, please stay after school for a few minutes…"

Yuu was confused but nodded. She then joined in with her friends' laughter and jokes, not noticing the concerned stare of the teacher.

When her parents arrived at the class, the teacher told them the news.

They're faces also filled with terror. Yuu stood between them, not understanding what was going on, "What's wrong?" She asked innocently.

Her mother's eyes settled on her. She crouched down to her level and pulled her in a hug.

This only confused Yuu further as she felt her mother tremble.

Later, she learned what it meant. That she would potentially end up disappearing.

After that, Yuu soon grew to accept her fate, and decided to live to her hearts content. Her friends eventually learned and they all pitied her. But she didn't care, if she was going to disappear then she might as well leave without a bang.

On her 16th birthday, Yuu was walking with her friends in the shopping district.

As they crossed the street, Yuu slowed down to glance at a text she got from her mom.

Time seemed to slow down as a car suddenly started coming towards her without slowing down.

The last thing she saw was the car coming at her at full speed before everything turned black.

Her belongings skidded across the ground as her friends stared in shock.

The car itself kept going.

And Yuu? She was gone.

There was no blood, no body, no bones, nothing.

The only things that remained were her stuff and her phone laid on the ground, displaying the text from her mother, "Be careful."

...

Yuu found herself in a small space with no light, "Where am I…?" She murmurs.

Suddenly a muffled voice started to speak. Before she knew it, a bright light entered the space and she yelped.

"Huh?!" She heard the voice.

Opening her eyes and letting them focus, she saw something of a black raccoon staring at her. She yelped in shock and the creature also yelped.

"You're not supposed to be awake!" It spoke.

"AHHH! A TALKING RACCOON???" Yuu shouted as she got out of the space, avoiding the creature.

"Oi!! Im not a raccoon!" It retorted angrily, "I'm the great Grim!"

Yuu stared at the raccoon incredulously before looking around at her surroundings, "Woah!! Floating coffins???"

Her and the raccoon started to speak until it demanded that she give the raccoon her clothes.

"Oh heck no! First off, it won't even fit you! Second, these are mine!"

"Fine, then I'll burn you alive!" The raccoon said as it started spewing out fire.

"THE HECK??" Yuu started to run avoiding the flames.

She kept running before being cornered in something like a library. The raccoon nearly burned her alive before a strange man that had a bird mask interrupted. He scolded her and she listened even though she had no idea what he was talking about.

When he finally finished his lecture, Yuu spoke up.

"Uh, who are you and where am I?" She asked.

The man seemed to take a double take, "Do...Do you not know where this is?"

Yuu shook her head.

"Huh…well I shall tell you for I am gracious!" He replied.

*What is with this guy?* Yuu thought to herself.

He walked with her, explaining that she was at Night Raven College. He was the headmaster of the school and was named Dire Crowley. According to him, NRC was a magic school for only the best and that she was one of the students chosen. He went on to explain that each students are assigned to a dorm depending on their soul and that she has yet to be assigned one.

"This is a lot of info…" Yuu murmured. The only explanation she could come up with was that she was in a completely new world, but how was that possible?

Before she knew it, they entered a large chamber with a large crowd of people in it.

There were 6 figures standing by a large floating mirror and Crowley told her to go up to it.

As she walked up to the mirror, a face appeared. "State thy name"

"...Yuu."

"The shape of thy soul is…...I do not know." It suddenly said.

A commotion suddenly sparked and within it all, a young man was staring at his finger, where a red string was tied. He followed the string and saw that it connected to the magicless student. He perked an eyebrow before deciding to pull the string.

Yuu was sharply pulled back and she managed to catch herself, her hood falling off in the process. She turned around to catch the culprit but instead met the stare of a grey eyed stranger.

Before she could think, gasps erupted. It was revealed that she was a girl.

...

An hour prior.

Jamil was in the Scarabia Dorm, setting up for the party to welcome the new students. As he moved a chair, he noticed a red string attached to his finger. He sighed, "Kalim did this, didn't he?" He muttered before trying to take it off.

The string wouldn't budge, "Huh…?"

Jamil sighed, deciding to find Kalim instead.

The prefect was dancing around as usual, talking excitedly with the other students.

"Kalim!" Jamil yelled for the prefect.

Kalim looked over to him and smiled before excusing himself to bounce over to him. "Yo Jamil! What's up?"

Jamil held out the hand, "Did you tie this string to me?" He asked.

Kalim looked down at his hand before looking back up, his face confused, "What string?"

Jamil sighed, taking the red string between his fingers, "This one."

"...Jamil, are you joking?" Kalim laughed.

Jamil looked at him, "Can you seriously not see it?! It's right there!" He tugged the string.

Kalim waved his hand and it went through the string. He glanced back at Jamil, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Jamil. Are you ok?"

Jamil looked at the string in surprise. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

Kalim shrugged, "If you say so!" He then smiled and went on to talk about the party.

Jamil only half listened, his mind still wondering where this string came from and where it lead to. He couldn't check it out though because the entrance ceremony was happening soon.

...

Many things happened within the first week. Yuu found herself becoming friends with 2 other students her age, Ace and Deuce. She also eventually became friends with Grim. There was also quite a bit of trouble with Heartslaybul and its prefect, Riddle Rosehearts. Luckily, it managed to be resolved.

She had noticed that the red string for her appeared as well. She had managed to see that it was connected to the same grey eyed stranger, who she still did not know the name of.

She had seen him around the halls though. He was rather tall and tanned and his hair was long and in a ponytail. He would regularly hang out with an energetic, white haired boy. And based off the armband he wore, he was in Scarabia. She would say that he was very pretty if she could. They never interacted though. Until one day.

Yuu was sitting under a tree with a book in her lap as Grim laid next to her, having a nap. They had free time right now while Ace and Deuce were being lectured. Suddenly, she felt a tug at her finger. Glancing at the string, she followed it until she was met with the familiar eyes of her supposed soulmate.

He stared at her silently before walking towards her.

She placed her book down and stood up as he approached her.

She smiled, "Nice to meet the soulmate that nearly made me fell." She joked.

He didn't smiled back, instead perked an eyebrow, "Soulmate?" He echoed back.

"Oh, is that not something that exists here?" Yuu tilted her head.

"Not exactly...We know of it but it doesn't actually exist."

She smiled again, "Welp, in my world, it does exist and this string is proof," she thought to herself for a few seconds, "I guess I know now why I didn't have a string before."

He crossed his arms, analyzing her, "How do we take the string off?" he asked.

Yuu shrugged, "the string can't be taken off, unless one or both of us die."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, "How annoying…" he muttered.

Yuu watched him silently for a few seconds before holding out her hand, "I'm Yuu, what's your name, soulmate?" She asked jokingly.

He glanced at her hand before looking at her. He took her hand, "Jamil. Jamil Viper."

"Heh, nice to meet you Jamil."

Yuu didn't know if he would be someone she'd be interested in romantically or just see him as a brother. That's what was fascinating about the string. But eventually time will tell.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst jamil #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader

82 notes · View notes

captainkirkk · 5 years ago

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

A collection of fics I’ve read (/reread) and thoroughly enjoyed in the past week-ish from all kinds of fandoms and genres.

BNHA

✩ Ten Years, One Torch by surveycorpsjean

It's been four years since Izuku took an overseas villain case.

Now twenty-six, Izuku is one hundred percent, without a doubt, completely and utterly over his crush on Shouto. No problems, smooth sailing, Izuku is a new man ready to start the next chapter of his life.

Haha...right?

✩ release the dogs of war by IceEckos12

Izuku is a dimension hopper who accidentally breaks his arm after a rough jump, leaving him helpless in this strange new world.

And then he finds out about the superpowers. Well if he wants to get specific, quirks.

If there's one place where a super-powered quasi-immortal technology stealing jerk would be hanging out...

I joined a Big Bang and all I got was this Boyfriend by eegghhh

When Izuku enters the server for the Big Bang he'd signed up to participate in, he notices a weirdly familiar username.

(((This is an amalgamation of the hcs the TodoDeku Big Bang server came up with if Todo and Deku were participants of a TodoDeku Big Bang, it was hilarious so I wrote most of them into this fic)))

ATLA

Sleep Your Troubles Away by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion (Note: This fic is based loosely off a few of my headcanons! If you love soft gaang content and bonus dad Zuko, go read it!)

Five Times Zuko Was Caught Sleeping On Appa (And One Time He Did The Catching).

“Not to be rude, but you probably shouldn’t be here. It’s not sensible to walk into your enemy’s camp.” Zuko stares directly into Appa’s eyes, and then throws his hands out, suddenly panicked. “Not that I’m your enemy anymore! I was telling the truth, you know. I need the Avatar to see that I’ve changed…”

Appa doesn't respond. But he does lick the side of Zuko’s face with his huge, flat wet tongue again, almost lifting him off the ground.

The Duke's a Hazard by naggeluide

Everything changed when the feral child attacked. Sokka and Zuko are stuck co-parenting the Duke, and the last half of Book 3 suddenly becomes a lot more chaotic.

A Breath Of Fresh Air by Haicrescendo (Note: I haven’t read the prequel fic - though I intend to eventually - but this fic does a great job of showing that Something Terrible has happened and Zuko is Not Okay, though he’s in a place where he can recover safely)

Everyone has their breaking point. This is what happens after you’ve broken. In which healing is a process and also it kind of sucks.

A companion piece to “Choke On Your Own Ashes”, fondly known as “that fic with boatlord!Iroh.”

Call “Uncle” by JaggedCliffs

Zuko and most of the Gaang are oblivious, Toph is having a blast, and Iroh is just enjoying the whole situation. Or, how the Fire Nation officials gave up on calling Iroh anything other than "Uncle".

Good Omens

An Arrangement of Convenience by Blue_Sparkle

Aziraphale works to purchase a bookshop space, but currently being a woman-shaped creature has its drawbacks when faced with rude property owners. The most obvious solution is to get Crowley to act as his husband and deal with all that nonsense, of course.

DC/Brooklyn Nine Nine

I Am the Night by Chash (+ podfic)

A new vigilante rises in New York City. The official position of the NYPD is that he's a criminal.

Jake Peralta thinks he needs a sweater.

Anne with an E

you belong somewhere close to me by georgiestauffenberg

“I know, son. I know. But if you feel what your soulmate feels, it is likely that she feels what you feel.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you understand? If you are happy, she will be happy, too. Do you think you can be happy for her?”

He nodded. “Yes.” He would think happy thoughts every possible moment if he must.

AU. Gilbert is one of those rare, lucky souls who has a soulmate.

#fic recs #weekly fic round up #my posts #dc recs #good omens recs #atla recs #bnha recs

269 notes · View notes

creepy-crawley-crowley · 6 years ago

Text

Naive - Crowley X Angel Female Reader

This was requested, and it was requested byyyyy: @adela-topaz-caelon

My lil request is a Crowley x Angel Reader where said Angel is an angel who was booted out of heaven because she's vaguely out of character for an angel, but is definitely one, and often helps the two men and they blatantly love each other but don't know, and Aziraphale is so tired of it, because he's noticed it since the beginning, and he just had enough. I don't mind if it's fluffy or smutty, or both, if you decide to take it on. I just would love your writing on this 😊

One: I FUCKING LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH PLEASE SEND MORE I BEG YOU

Two: Oblivious but in love idiots are the best idiots haha

Warnings: uh, spicy at the end but it isn't full smut because I won't write full on smut like the furthest I will go is clothes removal you can imagine the rest.

You all know the drill, right? Gimme a shout if you wanna be on the taglist, too.

"Oh my, they are...hopeless! Oblivious! Absolutely...agh! Fools in love, that's what they are...ugh." Aziraphale groaned. He was pacing in the back room of his bookshop, fretting about his two closest friends.

Now, the context of this situation: Crowley, a demon, Aziraphale's best friend, is hopelessly in love with Y/N, an Angel, also Aziraphale's best friend. She's also hopelessly in love with Crowley. Why is Aziraphale so annoyed? Because they're so obvious! But yet neither of them seem to notice.

See, it all started at the start, in the Garden Of Eden. Aziraphale was stood on the wall, watching Adam and Eve, yada yada, and Y/N was with him. Y/N was...unique. She'd been kicked out of heaven for being...out of character. Hadn't fallen, though, not really, much to Aziraphale's delight.

And then Crowley came along. He slithered up the wall, and stood beside the two Angels. He knew instantly who Aziraphale was, but who was that? Who was the other one? The thing that confused him most, though, was that Y/N's wings were a mix of black and white.

Was she fallen? Kinda. Was she a Demon? No. An Angel? Yes.

Crowley felt his confusion grow by the minute.

In fact, he was intrigued. He was going to get to know this stranger, whatever it took.

The next time the two really met was in Paris. Aziraphale had gotten himself into a spot of trouble, and Y/N had seeked Crowley out, and dragged him to Paris. Aziraphale, after being set free, wandered off, probably to get food. Perhaps some crêpes.

This left Y/N and Crowley to talk. And talk they did. They'd met many, many times before Paris, obviously, but it had been a while since they'd had a proper chat...3000 years, give or take.

Aziraphale thinks that this moment is when Crowley realised how hopelessly in love he was with Y/N. Aziraphale could see it on his face, they way he looked at Y/N with gentle eyes from behind black glasses. Crowley denied it whenever the subject was brought up. "We're just friends!" He would protest, scrunching his face up in faux disgust.

Or maybe he had fell in love when Y/N had ran off after a unicorn, and returned riding it, smiling as if she had just won the lottery, although that didn't exist then. In fact, that occurred during the Noah's Ark problem.

Aziraphale was a being of love. He knew love when he saw it. He saw the love in shared glances when they thought nobody was looking, he saw the love in the way they spoke to each other, he saw the love in the tiny touches they shared. He saw it all.

He thinks that Y/N fell for Crowley when he saved his books after blowing the church up. Not that it was his fault...kinda. Anyway, Y/N had flown in on trembling wings, having seen the bomb go down, and knowing who was there. She had literally tackled both of them in a hug, engulfing them with her wings too.

"You idiots! You stupid, stupid idiots!" She had yelled. "I can't believe - who made the bomb fall?" She seethed, and Crowley had sheepishly raised a hand, and she had glared that him for a few moments, before her gaze softened, and she smiled, yet again hugging the Demon.

Or perhaps she had fallen for him in Rome.

Don't even get Aziraphale started on the 80's. They were at their worst then, Crowley was trying to hide his obvious feelings, and so was Y/N, but they did terribly, and only worsened the situation, because they both most certainly did not get drunk, and certainly did not drunkenly make out. (They did.)

Yeah, that never happened, as far as Aziraphale thought they knew. But Aziraphale knew, of course he did. That was one image he couldn't erase.

And then there was the 90's. They weren't so bad, actually, Aziraphale had decided. They had fallen out after an argument about Crowley and his need for holy water. Y/N had assumed the worst upon being told.

"You what? Aziraphale gave you holy water?" She had screamed at Crowley, wings out, and her eyes were narrowed to the point that they were mere slits. Crowley had nodded, slightly frightened by Y/N's reaction. "Crowley, you can't have holy water! You know what it'll do to you! It'll...It'll destroy you! Or is that why you wanted it? An easy way out?" And as soon as the words had left her mouth, Crowley had reacted.

Aziraphale shivered at the memory. It hadn't been pretty, actually. Crowley had accidentally burnt a few books in his momentary anger, although as soon as Y/N had left, he regretted it, turning to face Aziraphale, his golden eyes wide, looking rather shocked.

They ignored each other for seven years, which had mildly impressed Aziraphale, who hadn't thought they'd even be able to stay away from each other for a week. But no, both of them were even more stubborn than a mule, and boy oh boy, could they hold grudges.

They managed to fix things in '99, when Y/N had been in the bookshop. She had had a run in with a few demons, and although she had never revealed what had really happened, it had scared her to the point where she was quivering in the back room of the bookshop, curled up, cocooned in her wings. And that's how Crowley had found her. Originally he'd come in to find Aziraphale, but he had heard gentle sobs from the back room, and went in, curious. Upon finding Y/N he had darted over, closing the bookshop with a snap of his fingers as he fell to his knees in front of her.

Not realising it was Crowley, Y/N had scuttled away, backed into the corner, trembling. Crowley was confused, that was for sure, but more than anything he was concerned for his friend.

"Y/N? Y/N what's wrong?" He had asked softly, sitting in front of her. Y/N had looked up with bloodshot eyes, peeking out from behind her black and white wings, and she had flinched slightly. "What happened?" He repeated, removing his glasses. Y/N had shook her head, and Crowley had frowned.

"There were some demons." Y/N had whispered, so quietly that Crowley could barely hear her. She didn't say any more than that. She had then slowly shuffled forwards, towards Crowley, and wrapped her arms and wings around him, burying her face in Crowley's shoulder, and that's where they stayed for a while.

They went back to their usual antics after that.

Aziraphale was relieved that they were back to normal, but now he was dealing with them dancing around their feelings again, and there was only so much dancing he could take, and he loved dancing...and food.

But now Aziraphale was just about done with them both. He was going to take things into his own hands, and began planning his master plan. There was no way it wouldn't work, right?

So, the next day, he led them both into the back room, and then locked them in there together. He had pinned a note on the door, the side that they'd be able to see, and Crowley ripped it off, reading it, and Y/N witnessed a rather amusing event. Crowley went red, and then sighed, and read it out.

"Hello Crowley and Y/N, this is Aziraphale, and I'm not sorry for locking you both in here. You two need to talk about stuff, and when I think you're done I'll let you out." Crowley read, grumbling, and Y/N chuckled.

"We can sneak out, you know." She stated, and after saying that, she shrunk herself, and wandered out, under the door. Crowley followed.

They snuck out, to the Bentley, and they both got in after returning to their natural sizes.

Aziraphale was state in the back, much to their surprise.

"I knew you'd try to sneak out, you know." He stated, smiling brightly. "This was my plan all along! Now I can talk to you both." He grinned. "You two are the most oblivious people ever, and I have therefore decided that I must do this myself."

Crowley realised what was happening, and hissed. "Aziraphale, don't you dare!" He growled, although there was no real threat. Y/N looked on, merely confused.

"Crowley, do it, otherwise I will." Aziraphale sighed. Crowley turned to face Y/N, and made a strangled noise, one of objection. "You can do it!" Aziraphale encouraged.

"No I can't! I've had...since the Ark to do it! If I could, I would have done it by now, Angel." Crowley managed to say.

"It's okay to be scared, Crowley." Aziraphale said, rather softly. Crowley hissed, almost angrily.

"I'm not scared! I'm just...just..." Crowley's shoulders fell. "I'm not scared. I just don't want to lose anyone."

"Hey, can someone tell me what's going on?" Y/N huffed, folding her arms, mildly annoyed, but confused, and overly curious, as usual. Crowley and Aziraphale looked at her. Aziraphale then looked at Crowley, who shrugged, then sighed.

"Don't...worry. Uh, it's not that important." Crowley smiled. Y/N sighed, knowing he had lied. "Okay, okay, Aziraphale get out, just for a minute." Crowley looked at Aziraphale, who smiled at him, before getting out of the Bentley.

"Y/N, I know it's stupid but there's something I really need to say to you." Crowley started, and his eyebrows fell as he tried to think of what to say. "I know I'm a Demon, and you're an Angel, kinda, and were supposed to be enemies, but there's nothing I could do. I tried to fight it because I didn't want to be like a human." He bit his lip, then removed his glasses, and his golden eyes stared into Y/N's. "I...I uh, how do I say this?" He mumbled. "I...like you? I really like you?" He blurted out, sounding slightly confused. Y/N smiled.

"I mean, it'd be problematic if you didn't." She chuckled, not realising what Crowley mean. The Demon groaned, mildly annoyed by her obliviousness.

"No! That's not what I meant! I meant that I really really like you and how on Earth do I say this? Okay...I don't like you as a friend, I like you as...more?"

Y/N realised what he mean, and her eyes widened, and she suddenly disappeared, leaving Crowley by himself.

Y/N had actually teleported herself inside the bookshop, and she had sat down, near Aziraphale. Aziraphale took notice of her shocked expression, and sat next to her.

Crowley stayed inside his car, groaning loudly, instantly assuming that the worst had happened and that she didn't like him back. That she didn't love him. Crowley growled at the thought. Love. What a useless thing.

"Y/N, my dear, what ever is wrong?" Aziraphale asked, confused. Y/N laughed softly, but as she laughed, she seemed to slowly descend into madness.

"He said he liked me as more as a friend, Zira. More than a friend! What does that even mean?" Y/N snorted, and Aziraphale sighed, glancing outside. Crowley was still sat in his Bentley, but now he was listening to Queen...probably.

"Y/N, it means he wants to...date you, I believe that is the correct modern term." Aziraphale hummed quietly. "It means he loves you. Y/N, I know you love him too. Everyone in Heaven and Hell might as well know, you two are so obvious! You've been dancing around each other for hundreds of years and I am just about done with it! Now go and talk to Crowley before he drives off and goes and does something stupid. Go." Aziraphale explained, and Y/N nodded, and ran back outside, clambering into the car.

"Crowley, let's go home, please." Y/N said, and Crowley raised an eyebrow, but drove anyway. "I don't want to cause a scene in the middle of a street. I have no idea what's going to happen next, Crow, but I'm hoping it's good." Y/N added, and Crowley raised an eyebrow, looking at her.

"Explain." He mumbled, mildly confused.

"Okay, okay...just...get inside first." Y/N said, rushing inside, to Crowley's flat. Crowley simply teleported, and sat on his throne as he waited for Y/N. Y/N ran in, and Crowley smirked slightly. "Okay, Aziraphale had to explain what you meant but I know now and I like you more than a friend too, or as Aziraphale said, love you and I guess he's not wrong." Y/N blurted, and Crowley suddenly coughed, standing up and walking to her. "And you're a really...cool demon too, so, I guess that's a bonus. You're pretty nice-" Y/N continued, and Crowley snarled, automatically darting forwards, and he (though gentler than usual) pushed Y/N against the wall.

"I'm not nice!" He snapped, and Y/N blinked. "I'm...not...nice!" Crowley repeated, through gritted teeth, and then he suddenly felt a gentle hand cup his cheek.

"Huh, Zira wasn't lying when he said you didn't like being called nice." Y/N mumbled, and Crowley didn't miss her eyes quickly flitting from his lips to his eyes. Or glasses, rather. He smirked, and edged slightly closer.

"You knew exactly what you were doing, damn. Little Miss Innocent isn't as pure as she seems." He remarked sarcastically.

"Well, obviously, I was cast out of heaven for a reason." Y/N stated, rather dryly. Crowley snorted, and Y/N smiled, and down her eyes went again, and back up, and Crowley hummed softly. "Are you just gonna stand there then?" Y/N asked, starting to shift slightly so she could get away. Not that she really wanted too, but it worked, because Crowley rolled his eyes, before pressing his lips to hers.

It was everything that Y/N had wished for and more. His lips were soft and gentle against hers, and might have well been puzzle pieces, slotting perfectly against hers. She realised that she could faintly taste wine, ands she smiled into the kiss, hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders, holding him as close as possible. Crowley's glasses were hard against her features, but she didn't mind because, finally, after thousands of years she was getting what she wanted. Crowley pulled away, quickly removing his glasses.

"How long?" He asked quietly, and Y/N smiled, lips still brushing against each other.

"Since Rome." She admitted, and Crowley hummed softly. "What about you, Crow?"

"Since the Ark." He mumbled, and Y/N smiled more, before seeking out his lips again.

Crowley gently held her hips, absentmindedly rubbing circles into her skin with his thumbs. "I love you too." He whispered, and Y/N nodded slightly, playing with the ends of Crowley's red hair. She connected their lips again, a little more force, a bit more want, and lot more need and Crowley knew where this was leading but he didn't mind. Besides, he was a demon, he was supposed to sin.

So he went along with it, revelling in the moment, and he unintentionally let Y/N take the lead. But only for now, he thought to himself. But he was still a Demon, and still decided to tease Y/N a little, his hands sometimes moving a little lower than they should've.

Y/N's only reaction was to huff, and gently bite his lip, which would cause Crowley to gasp, and allowed Y/N to have her way, not that Crowley minded. He certainly didn't.

He soon grew tired of just enthusiastically kissing though, and pulled away, pressing a uncharacteristically soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, and he began to trail kisses down to Y/N's neck, humming 'Somebody To Love' as he went. Y/N's grip on his shoulders tightened, and Crowley smirked, gently nipping at her skin, causing Y/N to gasp quietly.

"Crowley, you better not leave marks!" She hissed, and Crowley merely winked, before grazing his teeth across her skin again, before suddenly just nuzzling into the small crook of Y/N's neck. Y/N blinked, confused, but she smiled anyway, resting her chin on top of Crowley's head.

Then Crowley did the opposite of what Y/N had told him. He left a hickey.

Now, Y/N could pretend to be angry all she wanted, but she wasn't really, she never really could be. After all, it was Crowley. Who could be mad at Crowley? (A lot of people.)

So instead, she softly flicked him when he was done, and sighed.

"You're lucky I love you, Crowley." She grumbled, and Crowley shrugged, and pecked Y/N's lips, smiling. He then began working on the buttons of Y/N's shirt, and, well.

The rest is history.

Tags: @dekahg , @steampowerednightvaler

#crowley x reader #crawley #crowley #good omens x reader #good omens #aziraphale #reader #x reader #crowley good omens #kinda smut #??#at the end #eh #but eh

803 notes · View notes

aughtpunk · 5 years ago

Text

The Evils of Truth and Love

Crowley had always been secretly glad his Bulbasaur had never wanted to evolve, if only because there was no way he could fit a Venusaur into the Bentley. Sure, his friends at the time (and his coworkers in the present) gave him a hard time for having a weak Pokémon. The way Crowley saw it is if Bulby was happy, then he was happy. That and it was always hilarious when he switched Bulby out for his Zoroark at the start of a battle.

“Okay kid, what are the rules?”

“Mwwffh.”

Crowley glanced over at the passenger seat, not too shocked to see that Warlock was playing on his phone instead of paying attention. He still wasn’t sure if getting him that phone was the best or the worst thing that’s happened in his years of Nanny-ing. Babysitting? Being paid to raise a kid because his parents got bored after they found out they had to change diapers? Crowley liked to think of himself as a Godparent. He had no idea what a Godparent actually did, but the title was pretty cool.

One of Bulby’s vines shot out from the back seat and yanked Warlock’s phone right out of his hands. Warlock twisted in his seat, trying to grab his phone back only for Bulby to hold it right out of his reach. God, Crowley loved his little plant bastard. He cleared his throat and tried again. “The rules, kid. I need to hear them.”

Warlock let out the best preteen groan he could muster. “Don’t touch anything.”

“And?”

“Really, don’t touch anything.”

“And?”

“Don’t pick a fight with anyone who has Pokémon stronger than me ‘cause no one wants a repeat of what happened to Ligur at last year’s Halloween party.” Warlock said in a bored drone. Which was fake. Crowley knew Warlock loved that story with all of it’s gooey details. His favorite part was the sound Ligur’s shoulder made when the nurse popped it back into its socket.

“Mmm-hmm. Last rule?”

“If anyone asks why I’m taking pictures I say they’re for my dumb Pokémon-crazy Nanny.”

“Haha.” Crowley didn’t bother to tell Warlock to stop calling him that. He gave up fighting that nickname years ago. “Surprise bonus rule GO!”

“Seriously do not touch anything.” Warlock crossed his arms. “Can I have my phone back?”

Here it comes. The best part of being Warlock’s caretaker. Crowley tried to bite back a smile as he said, “I don’t know Warlock--”

“Oh no--”

“CAN you?”

Warlock threw back his head and let out the best guttural scream Crowley had heard since the last time he sprung that on the kid. “May I have my phone back? Please?”

“Dunno. What do you think Bulby?”

“Bububububub!” Bulby cackled as she dropped the phone back on Warlock’s lap. As far as Crowley knew she was the only Bulbsaur that could cackle. An impressive feat considering she only used soft bub sounds to do so. At least he had his Bulbasaur to co-parent raising the kid. God. That was a depressing thought. He’s going to need an extra drink tonight just to ease that self-blow.

After carefully illegally parking his Bentley at the perfect angle to ensure the cars in front and in back of him couldn’t get out, Crowley, Warlock, and Bulby stepped out in front of a building that looked far more like a library than a proper lab. Crowley fished out his own phone to double-check the address. “Yeah, this is the place.”

“Really?” Warlock made a face. “Looks dumb.”

“Bulba.” Bulbsaur said, agreeing.

The three of them stared up at the building in silence together, the spell only broken when Crowley nudged Warlock in the side. “Now, what are we here for?”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “For my starter Pokémon ‘cause you won’t let me catch a wild one, even though I could totally do it--”

“Warlock--”

“Cause my Granddad would totally kill you, your Pokémon, and everything else you love and hold dear if I get hurt.” Warlock droned, already looking at his phone again.

“You know, most kids are excited to get their starter.”

Warlock shrugged. “Starters are dumb. They’re all like, soft baby Pokémon you have to use ‘til you can get a cool one. Like an Ekans!”

“You’re not getting an Ekans.” Crowley said for roughly the millionth time in his life. “And don’t let Bulby hear you call her a soft baby. She’ll never forgive you.”

“Buuuuuub.” Bulby threatened.

“Ugh, fine. But I’m totally trading whatever I’m getting for something cooler.”

“Just stick to the plan, kid.” Warlock was going to that trip as annoying as he possible, wasn’t he? Well, Crowley thought, this couldn’t be worse than the day when he got his starter. Nothing like accidentally sleeping in late and running to the lab just to get your ass kicked by an eleven-year-old with a Charmander.

With a shrug, Crowley walked in with Bulby and Warlock trailing behind. The inside was almost pitch-black, and had an odd musty smell Crowley couldn’t place. He could vaguely make out shelving and a few machines here or there, but nothing that screamed ‘lab’. Or occupied. Crowley walked over to a desk by the lab’s only window. Someone had left a still-steaming cup of coffee on top of what he was pretty sure looked like important paperwork. He pushed the cup ever-so-slightly aside to get a better look.

--Unknown Pokémon, mysterious sightings, psychic Pokémon reporting headaches, doomsday cult, reports of Magikarp falling out of the sky--

“Hello! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here! Let me get the light!”

A soft buzz filled the lab before the halogen lights above clicked on. They were old enough to have that odd second of weak-flickering light before it turned on properly. In that dim in-between Crowley caught sight of the man he assumed was the lab’s professor wreathed in a halo of light. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

An angel, Crowley thought, a God damned angel.

“Bub.” Bulby nudged Crowley’s arm with her vine. It didn’t seem to do anything.

“Hello there!” The professor said as he walked over to Crowley. Oh no, oh no, he was even cuter up close. He was wearing a bowtie. A tartan bowtie. Between that and the blonde curls, Crowley was already long gone.

“My name is Professor Fell, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Mwuaph.” Crowley answered, sounding a lot like Warlock. He tried again. “My uh, my Godson is here for his starter. Warlock. His name is Warlock and my name is Crowley.”

“Bub!”

“And this is Bulby.”

Professor Fell’s eyes lit right up as he caught sight of the Bulbasaur doing its best to look intimidating. “My heavens! Look at you! Aren’t you a beauty? Goodness, that leaf pattern! Is she from the Kanto region? Oh, and those markings on her feet! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Bulbasaur this old! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, my dear, none of us are getting any younger are we? And in such good shape too! Your trainer must love you a lot!”

Bubly narrowed her eyes at Crowley and somehow put on a shit-eating grin. “Bububububub.”

“Oh no.” Crowley stepped between Bulby and the Professor. “Do not compliment her! She’s already full of herself as is! Bulby, you’re a terrible Pokémon and your leaves are covered in brown spots. Keep up the poor foliage and you’ll be on a one way trip to the garbage disposal.”

“Saur!”

“Goodness,” Professor Fell said with raised eyebrows, “I’ve never seen a Bulbasaur rudely gesture with their vines before, either.”

“Hey, where are the Pokémon?”

Warlock’s voice was enough to remind Crowley that he was there to do more than gawk at the Professor. That, and his ward had a point. What he thought were shelves in the darkness were computer servers and he couldn’t see a single pokéball anywhere. No free roaming Pokémon either. Back in the day it was unheard of, but these days more and more people walked side-by-side with their companions.

(At least the people who had reasonably sized ones did. Maybe Professor Fall was the type to have a Wailord as a companion? Or, Crowley thought, the Professor had recently visited Lavender Town, as it were.)

“Hmm?” Professor Fell said, as if he too just only now remembered Warlock’s existence. “Oh! Yes, I do apologize. Normally I would have some pre-selected Pokémon set out, but, well, my own Godson turned eleven today, you see. He and his friends caused bit of a ruckus so I had to put all of the Pokémon back in The Garden to calm them down. Should be alright now. I think.”

“The Garden?” Both Crowley and Warlock asked, along with a “Bub?” from Bulby.

That was apparently The Right Question as Professor Fell’s eyes lit up. “A little experiment of mine!” He shoved his hand deep into his lab coat’s pocket and pulled out a pokéball with a tartan pattern on the top half. One that matched his bowtie. Crowley might have to lay down to recover from how cute this man was. “A new type of inter-connected storage space for Pokémon! Instead of them being individually stored in a ball this allows them interact with each other while not in active use! Although it is still very early in the project life I have already seen a dramatic increase in not only the well-being of each Pokémon but in friendlier moods as well! Why, just last week I found my Grimer and Jigglypuff playing with each other! Before The Garden they refused to be out of their balls at the same time! Not to mention it's a lot easier to carry one pokéball than six.”

Crowley looked from the pokéball, to the Professor’s glowing smile, back to the pokéball, quick stop at the bowtie, only to land on Professor Fell’s face. “Are you saying all of your Pokémon are in a single ball?”

“Not exactly. But also yes. Would you like to see?”

***

The Lab was far bigger than it looked on the outside. If Crowley hadn’t been preoccupied with Professor Fell he might have noticed that the lab was too big. Bulby had noticed, but her attempts to get her human’s attention off the soft sparkly man leading the way had been futile. She didn’t even know why she was bothering. The entire place could be on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed. Crowley’s crushes were annoying at worst and potentially dangerous at best.

(Bulby was already dreading Warlock’s first crush. Though he and Crowley weren’t related by blood she just knew deep down he’d act the exact same way. Trying to play cool, fail at being cool, accidentally flood the Rock Gym while also somehow setting it on fire, rinse and repeat.)

Warlock at least had enough sense to keep his head down and his phone out. He didn’t notice the unusual size of the lab, but he was just a little bit sharper than Crowley to catch that something about the place was off. Shadows kept moving in the corner of his eye. He’d hear skittering behind him only to turn around and see nothing. But seeing he was an eleven year old boy (and thus too mature or cool to admit he was scared) Warlock kept his mouth shut instead of alerting the adults. In his defense neither man wouldn’t have been able to hear Warlock over the sound of their bad flirting anyway.

“--all ‘cept his Magikarp!”

“No!” Professor Fell replied.

“It’s true! Let them all go! I told him he was a nutter! You’re so damn close to beating the four so why stop now? You know what he did? He laughed at me! Told me not to worry about it.”

“What happened to the poor thing?”

“He won.”

“No!”

“God honest truth! He showed up a week later with a Gyarados and kicked all of their asses! Must have been a one-in-a-million chance of working and the bastard pulled it off. He’s still got his Pokémon Master certificate framed up in his office. The worst part is the League's done everything to forget that little bit of history. Thinks it’s embarrassing.”

“Well! I suppose that’s not a shock. The League is always a bit miffed with non-traditional winners. Remember all the nasty business with that Helix Cult a few years back?”

“Oh yeah. Think I still got my false prophet t-shirt somewhere.”

Professor Fell turned a corner, leading Crowley, Warlock and Bulby to a door with a single round hole in the middle. He smiled at the odd family before taking the tartan ball out of his pocket, popping it into the hole, and pushing the door open. The rush of fresh air slipping in through the doorway was enough to grab everyone’s attention, even Warlock’s. There, on the other side of the door, was a garden. The Garden.

Brilliant sunlight poured down into a small slice of paradise. Through the doorway Crowley could see a waterfall and pond nestled into the forest of strange trees he couldn’t recognize. Nothing on the other side of the door was familiar, yet his soul cried out in the beauty of it. Flowers, berries, music in the air, his brain could barely catch up with what he was seeing. He hadn’t realized he stepped forward until Professor Fell touched his arm to stop him.

“Steady on, dear, it’s far too dangerous for humans. We’re not meant to go inside pokéballs for a reason.”

Crowley’s head snapped in Professor Fell’s direction. “That’s what’s inside your pokéball? An entire bloody Safari Zone?!”

“Nonsense! The Safari Zone isn’t nearly as diverse as Eden!”

“Eden?” Warlock asked, looking up from his phone for the first time since they got there.

“The Edenball! It starts for Expanded Dimension Enclosed Nurturing technology!”

Warlock made a face. “Shouldn’t that be Edent?”

“Oh. Right.” The Professor’s smile faded. “Need to work on that last word I suppose. Edent sounds terrible.”

“Bubub.” Bulby agreed.

Professor Fell closed the door and plucked the tartan pokéball out from the hole. “Now, I do believe someone here needs their starter Pokémon?”

“Yes!” Warlock shouted as he pushed his way in front of Crowley. “Yes yes yes! I want something cool!” Like, wicked badass! Something that shoots fire, and is covered in spikes, and and spits poison and is smart enough to do my homework for me and, and--”

Professor Fell cut Warlock off by placing the tartan pokéball in his hand. He gave Warlock a little ‘go on’ nod and smiled. “Just press the button and think about what you truly want in a Pokémon starter.”

Warlock looked to Crowley, who shrugged, then to Bulby, who had stolen his phone and was currently taking a selfie. Considering he was currently surrounded by three adults Warlock felt oddly alone. He pressed the button on the front of the ball and weakly said, “I choose you? Cool Pokémon?”

The pokéball lit up in Warlock’s hands.

The world held its breath.

A trainer getting their first Pokémon is Important. Not only as a right of passage, but as a starting point for the long journey ahead. That first Pokémon sticks with you, in a way none of the others do. You could collect every Pokémon in the world-- from a pile of trash to the Gods themselves--but none of them will ever be as important as your starter. The Pokémon you looked at and said yes, yes this one is mine. Crowley had felt that way when he first saw Bulby in Professor Oak’s lab years ago. And at that moment Warlock felt the exact same way as light shot out from the ball and solidified in front of him.

It was blue. Small. Kind of weak looking. And--

“Is it crying?” Crowley asked, finally breaking the silence.

“A Sobble!” Professor Fell beamed, “A recently discovered water type! Be very careful, my dear boy, this one is only a few weeks old and might be a little fragile. Pick her, wait let me check, yes pick her up like this. Support her head. There we go!”

Crowley shifted uneasily as he watched Warlock stare down at the crying soft lizard-thing in his arms. His own eyes were beginning to water. Not for the first time he was glad about his always-wearing-dark-glasses habit. That being said he felt like Professor Fell was the type to not judge someone for crying at all. “Kid? You okay?”

Warlock lifted his head, his face already covered in tears, with the largest smile Crowley had ever seen on the boy in his entire life. “She’s perfect.”

***

The ride home was thankfully free of any Sobble-related crying. It had taken all four of them to calm the poor thing down. The Sobble had been snuggled up to Warlock’s chest ever since, refusing to move an inch away from her new trainer. Crowley couldn’t help but think back to his first day with Bulby. They had spent most of that first day in the Pokécenter curled up on the floor eating snacks and plotting revenge against that stupid Charmander-owning kid. At least Warlock and his Sobble had a home with a nice warm bed to eat their snacks in.

“Think of a name yet?” Crowley asked, “one better than Bulby I hope?”

Bulby let out a grunt from the back seat. One that said hey, I like my name! My stupid, stupid name.

“I was thinking of Sobby.”

Crowley winced. “I said better than Bulby. Better.”

“Sobby’s a good name!” Warlock lifted the Sobble up enough to look her in the eye. “What do you think, Sobby?”

“Sob!” Sobby said, the yellow fin on her head perking up.

“See! She likes it!”

“No accounting for taste.” Crowley muttered as he parked the Bentley in front of their apartment building. “You got the pictures, right?”

Warlock shifted his arms enough to pull his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Crowley. “Yup. Didn’t see any cameras. Maybe he’s dumb enough not to have any?”

“Or he’s smart enough to hide them.” Crowley said as he flicked through the pictures. He really needed to talk to Warlock about a future in photography. For a kid he took some dynamite pictures even if they were mostly of doors and ventilation shafts. “Tonight’s too soon. I’ll give it a few days--”

“We’ll give it a few days.”

Crowley lifted his head to meet Warlock’s stony gaze. “Kid--”

“Don't you kid me! You said I could team up with you once I got my first Pokémon!” Warlock said, a hairline crack spreading through his words. “You promised!”

Crowley sighed. He wanted to respond ‘I meant when you got a useful Pokémon’, but the last thing he wanted to do was set Sobby and Warlock off. Deep down he didn’t want to drag the kid into this. Not because of the whole ‘if he gets hurt I’m dead’ thing, but because he honestly liked Warlock. Loved him like the weird nephew he’d always wanted. He had spent the past year hoping Warlock would want to run around the world chasing dangerous monsters like the other kids his age. Or somehow end up too much of a goody-goody to walk down Crowley’s path. But he knew he had been fooling himself. Warlock was born a snake, raised a snake, and was going to fall like the rest of them. And there was nothing Crowley could do to stop it. He looked back over at Warlock only to be greeted by tears pricking the corner of the kid’s eyes.

Warlock’s family was going to kill him.

Seeing Warlock get hurt was going to kill him.

Yet Crowley knew he only had himself to blame.

Never should have agreed to take care of Giovanni’s grandson.

“Fine.” Crowley said, forcing the worry out of his voice. “But only because this is going to be an easy heist. If everything goes pear-shaped you need to get the hell out of there, understand? And no touching anything! We’re just going there for the Edenball and nothing else!”

“Hell yeah!” Warlock said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “One pokéball? That’s like, nothing! We totally got this! You, me, Bulby and Sobby! We’re going to be awesome!” He raised his hand up for a fist-bump. “Prepare for trouble?”

Crowley smiled and fist-bumped Warlock back. “And make it double.”

#Good Omens #ineffable husbands #Crowley #Aziraphale #pokemon #what have I done #might continue this #but I got some other wips to wrap up first #Bulby was my Bulbasaur #I am willing to die for Bulbasaur

239 notes · View notes

trashboatprince · 5 years ago

Text

There aren’t a whole lot of Radio Omens fics on ao3, or at least it’s rather hard to find content, so I’ve decided to contribute a bit. (and I decided to post it here on tumblr too, but it is on ao3 under the same title)

Best I could come up with is them having to go through The Trial from the television adaptation, cause it always confused me that both Book and Radio Omens let them get off kinda scot-free but the show decided, oh no, that’s not happening.

So, yeah, enjoy the Radio boys having to survive their trials. I mean, you know how it ends, but still.

Summery: The quiet calm of hearing nothing from Heaven and Hell was a clear sign that they were going to contact them eventually, and Aziraphale and Crowley knew they only had one chance to make sure that they get out of it without facing the worst of the worst.

Maybe a little help from a witch and the Antichrist can get them out of this impending punishment.

Warning: change to Radio canon, taking a few elements from Drama canon, does include the ending of the two living in South Downs together. There is also the hint that they’ve been a couple since Eden in this cause it’s my headcanon for this adaptation of the story, and if you listen to how they talk to one another, they clearly didn’t wait to be a couple, they just don’t admit to it cause why should they? Haha, but then again, that's just a headcanon and this is my story, so... *shrugs*

On with the fic!

All Tied Up with String

“Angel,” Crowley spoke as he stepped into the kitchen from the back door, seeing said angel sitting at the table, a cup of tea in his hand, “we have a problem.”

“Oh no, it’s that boy from the other day again, isn’t it?” Aziraphale sighed. “What did he steal from the garden this time?”

Crowley shook his head, glancing at the backdoor. He gestured for Aziraphale to follow and the man stood up, following the other out. “I scared him off, he won’t be returning. No, this is much different, much worse.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, until he smelled something, pulling a face. It’s been a while since he’s smelled such a scent, not since the Not-Apocalypse. “Sulfur…” He whispered aloud as he approached where the demon had stopped, seeing the scorch marks on the ground.

They were a signa, Crowley’s, but this wasn’t his work. He’d never mark his garden in such a way, not even as a threat to his plants. This was a letter for him, and Aziraphale felt his blood run cold. “Hell sent you something? Don’t they usually interrupt your programs to do so?”

“Haven’t done it in months, not since that day the world was supposed to end.” Crowley growled as he knelt down, touching at the signa. He lifted his hand, dirt and grass rising with it, taking shape into that of a letter. “They aren’t bothering with the easy stuff, they sent me a letter.”

Carefully, Aziraphale stepped closer, avoiding the ground, just in case. Didn’t want to hurt his feet on ground that could be corrupted now.

“’Demon Crowley, you are to be summoned to Hell at any given point between Tuesday and Thursday. We will give you no warning except this. We do not need to give you a warning, but we like instilling the fear that one will know they are to be executed in due time. It’s a joke to us, just as you are also a joke to us.

You cannot run or hide; we will come for you.’ Oh dear…” The angel frowned. “Crowley, what will you do?”

“I have no clue, go to Alpha Centuri or something, probably. This is not good, I knew that the quiet and calm was going to end, just didn’t think it would be so soon… usually they put off this kinda thing for demons like me until later, when they remember.”

“Ah, but you are a well-known demon, my dear.” Aziraphale sighed softly, shaking his head. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself, even before Beelzebub found out you were trying to prevent the end of the world.”

“My ‘bad deeds’ always do come back to bite me in the ass, don’t they?” Crowley glowered deeply at the letter, watching it burst into flames. “The bastards ruined my garden, now nothing will grow in that spot!”

“Well, you were thinking of installing something out there anyway, maybe a nice bird bath, or even just a normal fountain.”

The dark-haired man snorted, heading for the cottage. “No, you’re the one who wanted to install something, so you had something in my garden.”

“I did let you have those detective novels added to my shelves in the reading room.” Aziraphale replied as he followed him inside. “I think it’s a fair enough-oh good Lord!” He gasped, seeing something impaled into their table.

He was quick to push Crowley back, the demon tense as he felt the gentle waves of something holy. “They found me too…” Aziraphale hissed, approaching the table.

A long, thin, golden pin, much too long to be anything like the ones Shadwell used, seemed like a hat pin, was stabbed into the table, through a letter. Carefully, Aziraphale removed it and looked at the end of the pin, where a golden design was on it. “It’s from the Archangels, this is theirs.”

Crowley hissed himself, backed up against the door. “Get rid of it, I can feel the holiness from it, it’s foul!”

Aziraphale glanced at him and waved his wrist, the pin vanishing from sight, and the demon sighed loudly, relaxing instantly. “What’s your letter say?” He asked.

“The same as yours, though not through a terribly executed joke. They are telling me that I will die sometime in the same time period as yours, but they have it as a ‘trial’ rather than an execution. Ah, I should have known, they wouldn’t let me get away with all the stuff I’ve done.”

“Stopping the Apocalypse, trying to prevent the war, getting too involved in Earth stuff…” Crowley started to count on his fingers, before smirking, “moving in with your adversary and sleeping in his bed at night, though sleeping could mean anything between us now, yes?”

He got a stare from the angel that meant for him to shut up. “Right, well… what should we do?”

Aziraphale sighed and crushed the letter in his hand. “I don’t know, I’ve never been one to be involved in the executions of angels. But… I know trials often result in punishments that are most dreadful. Falling is a problem, as is being de-ranked, and I’m already in the lowest tier of angels as it is, but there is of course… actually execution.”

“We’re not really easy to kill, angel.”

“There are ways, Crowley.” Aziraphale approached him. “Holy water for you, and you… you had some in your home for so long.”

“Since the 60s…” Crowley replied quietly. “I told you it was a good idea, having it as insurance.”

Aziraphale quietly nodded, he had seen the results of the holy water on the floor of Crowley’s flat when they came back to London after the Tadfield stuff. Crowley had explained to him what had happened, that those smears on his floor and on his desk were that of Ligur and Hastur, two demons who wanted to kill him.

“Hellfire for you.” Crowley spoke, snapping Aziraphale from his thoughts. He could see a look on the other’s face, a haunted look that passed so quickly. It’s been six months since that day, and Crowley still felt nervous about fires, thinking about the bookshop when it burned, when he thought he had lost his dearest companion to the fires of Hell cause he couldn’t sense him at all.

“That’s probably what will be used, we’ve broken so many rules, Crowley. We’ve broken the rules since 4004 B.C., it was only a matter of time before they caught onto these things, figured out about the Arrangement, about how we worked together, about…” He waved a hand about, then gestured to the two of them, “everything.”

“We don’t have much time; we only have two days to come up with a plan before the clock starts ticking.”

The angel nodded and stepped forward, leaning against Crowley, suddenly feel exhausted. “I was hoping they gave up on us. Not a word, not a letter, not a broadcast interruption in half a year, but now they decide to contact us, after we came out here, happily together in our little cottage. They know everything.”

“Still can’t believe it took them six thousand years.” Crowley replied, putting his arms around the other. “Wow, our bosses are so dumb!”

There was a loud snort before a laugh from Aziraphale. “Oh, I could have told you that, Crowley. Ah, but... what should we do?”

“Ask book girl? She still has that prophesy book, right?”

Aziraphale nodded, but then shook his head. “I’ve read through it, it says nothing about this, I’m sure. The predictions go up until the End.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask. You never know, I bet some of those predictions were read wrong, or won’t come true until later, ya know? Cause didn’t you once tell me that Agnus Nutter’s work didn’t sell cause no one wanted predictions like the ones she gave?”

“I remember telling you that a while back, yes, on the way back to London in the stolen jeep.”

“Well then!” Crowley pulled him back, golden eyes meeting blue. “I think we should go and pester our human friends, what do you say?”

Aziraphale nearly jumped when the book was dropped loudly onto the coffee table in front of him, he also nearly lashed his tongue at Anathema for just dropping such a rare book like that! He decided just to give her a hard glare, but she just sat herself down, waving a hand at it. “There you go! Just as you had returned it to me!”

She then glared at Crowley who just smiled happily at her, wiggling his fingers as if waving. “Burnt and damaged.” She snipped.

“I apologized! I wasn’t really expecting my car to be completely set on fire like that! Besides, it survived, didn’t it?”

“Over three hundred and fifty years…” Anathema started, until Adam sat down between Crowley and Aziraphale, throwing open the book.

“So! What are we looking for in here?” The possibly-former-Antichrist asked as he tried to read through the old script from centuries ago.

Crowley and Aziraphale had made the drive to Tadfield and had stopped by without much of a warning at Jasmine Cottage. Anathema and Newt had been there, with Adam over because he wanted to borrow the newest issue of the New Aquarian from that month. He had gotten interested in what was going on when he heard the angel ask if Anathema knew of any prophesy meant to take place after the world was originally supposed to end.

“Anything that could do with what will save Crowley and me from dying a death worse than anything anyone in this room could ever imagine.” Aziraphale sighed as he took the book, setting it on his lap. Adam just looked away, leaning against him to do so.

“Didn’t this book, like, end when the world was ‘posed to?” He asked as he flipped a page, only for Aziraphale to flip it back.

Anathema leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow. “So, the forces of Heaven and Hell are really coming for you two? Why even give you guys a warning?”

“Because Heaven and Hell work like a business.” Crowley explained. “Basically, they gave us our pink slips.”

“Pink slips with the bonus message of ‘you’re going to die’, right?” Newt asked from where he stood, watching the group.

“Exactly!” Crowley smirked, but then frowning, crossing his arms. “This is serious, normally our old sides don’t usually do this sort of thing much nowadays, ain’t like it was during the days of the Old Testament, what with all the smiting and cursing, that sort of thing.”

“What we’ve done is very serious.” Aziraphale spoke up as he flipped another page, eyes scanning the writings. He frowned deeply, running a hand through his dark locks. “They’ve figured out what we’ve been doing for six thousand years, because we didn’t… really do much when it came to stopping the world’s end. That was basically you three.”

Newt tilted his head. “What have you two been doing for so long that they have to punish you?”

“Being in a relationship.” Crowley explained, only to get punched in the arm. “Ow! What the Heaven was that for!? Bless, angel, that hurt!”

Aziraphale glared daggers at him before straightening his back and tried to make himself look prim and proper, but that didn’t erase the smug look on his face as he saw Crowley rub his arm. “As my idiot friend here said, Crowley and I are in a bit of a relationship that isn’t really what angels and demons would like. We’re technically enemies, yes, but we’ve never really been enemies.”

“Not since Eden, but that didn’t last long, did it?” Adam spoke up and the two looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, don’t look so surprised! I’m the Antichrist! I know all about you two!”

“How much do you know…?” Aziraphale asked, his face as red as Crowley’s tie.

“Just enough to know that you two like kissin’ and stuff.” He took the book from the angel and started flipping through the pages, trying to see if anything looked interesting. “Needs pictures…” He mumbled to himself, ignoring how mortified Aziraphale looked and Crowley wanting to get up and go sleep in a hole in the ground for the next three centuries.

Anathema cleared her throat. “R-right, well, I’m sure there might be something in the book. Oh, now I wish we hadn’t burnt Agnus’ second book…”

Aziraphale gasped loudly, taken out of his shock. This resulted in him and Anathema arguing about the book burning, with Newt trying to calm them both down. Crowley watched the chaos in front of him with interest, while Adam completely ignored them all.

The boy stopped on one prophesy near the end, tilting his head. “How about this one?” He asked, showing it to Crowley, as he knew he wouldn’t get the other three’s attention as easily.

Raising an eyebrow, Crowley lowered his shades as he looked over the prophesy. “’When alle is sayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wiseley, for soon enouff ye will be playing with Fyre.’ Seems… interesting. What do you think?”

“I think…” Adam spoke, tapping his chin as if in thought, “I think you two might have to switch places.”

“What?”

“Well, this kinda reminds me of a time that me and The Them got into a bit of trouble and Brian and I both messed up but we took the blame for the other’s problem so that our parents wouldn’t punish us too badly and we’d just get a lecture from each other’s folks.”

Crowley sat there for a moment, pondering over this, ignoring the argument that was still happening, before he snapped his fingers, grinning. “Kid, I think you’re onto something! Angel, come on, we’ve got a plan!”

Aziraphale paused, mid rant, as he looked over at the demon and Antichrist. “What do you mean?”

Crowley took the book and approached the dark blond, showing him the passage. Anathema glanced over, blinking. “You think that’s meant for you two?”

“Did your ancestors ever figure out what it was for?” Newt asked.

“The notecard for it had two other ones stapled to it, no one could figure out what it meant, fit with too many things… it’s possible that it could be for you two.”

Aziraphale nodded at this. “Ah yes, I mean, Agnus did have one for me, knowing I was reading her book. She called me a foolish Principality.”

“Which you are.” Crowley replied, ignoring the look he got. “I think this is our best bet. Come along, angel, we’ve got work to do.”

He snapped the book shut, giving it to Anathema. He stepped over to Adam, giving him a thanks, before grabbing Aziraphale, pulling him along, ignoring his protests.

St. James’ Park was just as it always is on a day like this, beautiful, enjoyable, full of people just doing their normal things.

Aziraphale found Crowley standing in line at an ice cream vendor and he slipped over, moving to stand right the right of the man in dark clothing. He noticed that the other wasn’t really wearing his trainers today but made no comment. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Ah, same to you.” Crowley replied. “A strawberry lolly and a vanilla with a flake, yeah?”

The vendor nodded, getting their treats for them. Crowley glanced about before leaning closer to the other. “Anything at the shop?”

“Not a single feather or halo in sight. The flat?”

“Still empty, not even a burn or a note.”

Crowley took the treats, handing the ice cream cone to the more casually dressed man. “They’ll find us, they’re waiting for their moment to strike.”

Aziraphale frowned, giving his treat a taste as he stepped away, moving to walk with Crowley down a path they both knew well. “You don’t think they’re stupid enough to strike in broad daylight, do you?”

“Oh, I think they are.” Crowley sighed, almost dramatically. “They’re not subtle about things, not enough time spent on Earth to be so, what with how the texts have described our lots appearing to people in the past.”

“With too much flash and scaring the sh-” There was a muffled yelp and Crowley blinked, turning around sharply to see Aziraphale being pulled away towards a truck, used to pick up deck chairs around the park. He was suddenly bound and gagged with ropes and tape; blue eyes wide.

“S-Stop!” Crowley shouted, seeing that angels were dressed up as park employees, dragging the struggling man away.

He was shoved back by an angel he didn’t know, who smiled at him. “Best to take care of some unfinished business.”

Another suddenly appeared next to him, smiling as well. “Tied up with string, like a present.”

A blink of the eye, and they were gone, as was the truck and Aziraphale.

“N-no! Stop, give him back!” The dark-haired man shouted again, trying to find any evidence of them, only for there to be a sudden strike to head. He dropped like a rock to the pavement, his vision swimming as he looked to see a group of demons, grinning at him, dressed as humans.

“Oh… bugger.” He spoke before passing out.

The scent of Hell was dreadful, Crowley didn’t care much for it, never had, never will. It was so unclean, so much like the worst kinds of damp basements, with just the slightest hint of fermented shark.

He found himself standing before several high members of Hell, but only Beelzebub seemed to be the one with a voice here. The other demons, all Princes, he noted, were behind the Lord of the Flies, in their own seats, but not the throne like the terrifying demon before him was.

“Yo.” Crowley replied, giving a little salute. “How’s it goin’? Public kidnapping, I see, feels like the old days. Did we use to do that back before the fall of Rome, or am I remembering wrong?”

“Demon Crowley…” Beelzebub started, but Crowley seemed more interested in his train of thought.

“I was remembering wrong, yes, it was during the fourteenth century. Uhg, dreadful century that one was, so much death and such, disgusting. Ah, but it’s in high praises here, isn’t it? So many souls for Hell and such. Anyway, you’re putting me on trial?”

Beelzebub growled, though it sounded much more like a swarm of flies buzzing in a tin can. Crowley made a face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yezzzz… you are on trial; do you know why?”

“Cause… I did a lot of stuff you didn’t care for?”

“Be zeriouzzzz!”

Crowley scoffed, straightening his back. “I am on trial, which I doubt is a trial, because I have made an arrangement with an angel, our enemy. I have done countless acts of both temptations and blessing because of it.” He ignored he hisses and snarls from the audience of Princes and lesser demons.

“And I have been in a relationship with the angel Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate of Eden, since Eden.” He replied. “Oh, and I killed two demons with holy water.”

This just caused more chaos from the audience, until Beelzebub turned and screamed at them to shut up. He turned and looked at Crowley, the was nothing but pure rage and disgust on his face. Crowley just stood his ground, and that only made his rage grow. “Demon Crowley, for what you have done… you will be punished.”

“I see, and I figured.” The dark-haired man replied, exposed eyes looking around. “So, what’s it gonna be? Eternity in the deepest pit? Having to be stuck continuously keeping the road of frozen door-to-door salesmen frozen, because that would suck, seeing as I’m the poor fool who made that road in the first place. Or is it going to be stuck on torture tryouts? Not really a fan of being the guy stuck having to be poked, prodded, and horrendously torn apart just to see if a new method of torture is worth it. Though I think, if I may make a suggestion, some of the stuff written own in Buddhist texts on hellish torment could be of use…”

“Zilence!” The Lord of Flies shouted, and Crowley snapped his mouth shut. “No, your punizhment will be none of that, all that will be like a walk in the park compared to what we have in mind for you. We’re going to eliminate you for good, as painfully as pozzible. Letting the punishment fit the crime.”

There was a heavy silence in the room and Crowley tensed up, smelling something, a strong sent getting close and closer. A door opened and Crowley stared at an angel, he knew them, everyone knew them. They were infamous to all demons and angels, an Archangel who also happened to be a Seraphim for having been the one to take down the ruler of demons.

“Michael.” Crowley hissed, eyes wide.

The angel Michael looked at him with a smile that was cold as the ninth circle of Hell. They didn’t say a word as they seemed to hold up a clear jug of something, the smell was obvious, so pure, so clean, something that not even an animal with the best nose in the world could pick up, but angels and demons knew it.

“Holy water…”

“The holiest.” Michael replied, smile still on their perfect face. It was then that Crowley noticed the bathtub in the room, when had that materialized? Michael approached it and tipped the jug, water pouring into it. The demons in the room gasped, keeping their distance. Crowley swallowed; hands clenched tight in his pockets.

The room was silent as Michael stood there, pouring the water in. But Crowley broke it when he looked at the angel. “How did you get roped into this?”

“We made a careful exchange, just for the occasion. Your ‘friend’ is dealing with one of yours from down here. Though, I’m sure he’s already been dealt with by now.”

“…” Crowley kept his mouth shut tight; his eyes focused on the water as it miraculously continued to pour from the vessel that clearly shouldn’t be holding that much water in it. What felt like hours was only a few minutes before the tub was full and Michael stepped away.

“I’ll return for it. And don’t worry, it’s real.” Michael spoke, dipping their fingers into the water, before flicking a bit at a demon guard who had been standing at the door, just in case Crowley tried to escape. The demon screamed, the scent of burning flesh in the air as his skin burned from just the little specks of holy water.

“… Lovely.” Crowley gulped.

“Any lazt wordz, traitor?” Beelzebub asked, looking down at him from his throne.

Crowley was quiet for a moment before loosening his tie. “Can I not do this in my suit? It’s really nice, don’t wanna ruin it, it’s still new.”

Aziraphale gently tugged at the ropes bound around his wrists, frowning when he felt them tighten up at the movement. Great, lovely, okay, perfect. He huffed, looking around at the polished, sterile look of the room he was in. Heaven was so terribly clean, plastic, it was like walking into a certain electronics brand store, only with a little more emotion to it.

He looked at the two figures before him, the Metatron, in all his bright, floaty glory. And an Archangel who Aziraphale really didn’t want to deal with, he was more annoying in person than he was through his stupidly stern letters and memos.

“Metatron. Gabriel.” Aziraphale greeted with his typical, smug, annoyed smile he saved for customers that he knew he’d win an argument with without too much effort.

“Aziraphale.” Gabriel replied, all prim and proper, his hair tied up without a stray hair in sight. Aziraphale wanted to punch him.

“DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, AZIRAPHALE?” The Metatron spoke, his voice echoing even more so in the spacious room.

Aziraphale sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Why even ask? You know exactly why I am here, tied to a chair, which I might add is a little cliché. Also, does God know you’re doing this? Is He aware that you’ve got one of His warriors tied up?”

“Shut up.” Gabriel frowned. “And tell us why you’re here, we want to hear it from you.”

The dark blond sighed once more, flexing his fingers. “I am here because you have discovered that I have spent time with a demon, in more ways than one, especially in the biblical sense. I also tried to prevent Armageddon, performed both blessings and temptations, and I moved in with my demon.”

He got nasty looks for that last bit, but he just gave them his smug smile. “Is there anything else? I could go into excessive detail of all the things I’ve done that have really went against our so-called Heavenly doctrines, but then again, you guys have been changing those things so often it’s hard to tell nowadays, yes?”

“AZIRAPHALE, IT IS BEST YOU STOP TRYING TO FIGHT, YOU HAVE NO OPTIONS OTHER THAN DEATH TODAY.” The Voice of God spoke, staring the other down.

“I figured that was the case, not even going to delay this, yes? What is the death? Not even going to give me the option of a Fall?”

“Ha!” Gabriel grinned, narrowing his eyes. “You’d like for that, just so you could be with your demon! But that’s not going to happen, he’s probably dead now anyway!”

Aziraphale snapped his attention to the Archangel. “He’s dead?”

“Quite possibly, Hell doesn’t like to delay executions like that, especially for traitors like him. And we shall not prevent the end for you either, as you are just as much of a traitor to your kind as he is.”

There was a quiet pause from Aziraphale, closing his eyes before bowing his head. “Alright, I supposed we do not have much else to do but to accept our fates at this point, am I right?”

“YOU ARE.”

Aziraphale saw someone approach, a demon he didn’t recognize, must be a lesser one. Oh, wait, it was a disposable demon, not sure why Hell had them, but then again… yeah, no, it’s a good idea that Hell has them, or else Hell would have a lot less demons to punish for stupid reasons and for their army.

The demon was grinning, holding up a lantern, with a fire that had blue eyes widening. “Hellfire?”

“Oh yes,” The demon chuckled, too giddy about this, “from the hottest pit of Hell! The best, saved just for you!”

“Well…” He swallowed. “Guess treason gets the best of the best in terms of execution, the humans think the same with a sword to the back of the throat.”

Gabriel smiled; hands folded behind his back. “You’re right about that, you were such a smart angel, but also just a bit too stupid as well. Alright, let him have it.”

The ropes dropped suddenly and Aziraphale stood from his chair, stepping forward. The demon stood there, holding the lantern, opening the door. Aziraphale felt the heat from the fire before he turned to look at the Archangel and the Voice of God. He gave them a bright smile as he straightens out his sleeves and his bowtie.

“Well, lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.”

“WE WON’T.” The Metatron replied. “IT’S HELLFIRE, IT WILL DESTROY YOU ABSOLUTELY AND UTTERLY AND FOREVER.”

“Now shut your stupid mouth and die already.” Gabriel smiled brightly, but it was strained.

Aziraphale stood there, giving a shrug, before the hellfire in the lantern suddenly flew out, engulfing the man in its flames.

The Princes and lesser demons watched on in horror at the sight before them, at the water that spilled over the edges of the old, dirty tub, of the pleased humming from the figure who sat inside of it.

They stared in pure terror as Crowley, pleased as peaches, relaxed in the holiest of holy waters. He was down to his boxers and a tank top, and, oddly enough, his socks. In one hand was a book, one he had been meaning to finish reading, the other flicking water about as he hummed a merry tune to himself.

“What is he doing…” One Prince asked his brother, trying to keep away from the drops of water that were flicked in their direction.

“I don’t know.” Beelzebub replied, eyes wide. “But he’z gone native!”

“Ah, this book is so good!” Crowley said with a pleased tone to his voice. “I’d recommend it to you lot, but I doubt any of you would appreciate Paradise Lost, you know?”

The door opened and Michael made their return. “I’m here for the…” Their bright eyes looked at the relaxing figure in the bath. “Oh Lord.”

Crowley glanced over, blinking, before grinning. “Michael! My good angel, would you be a dear and miracle me up a towel, that’s a good feather brain.” He chuckled when the angel handed him a fluffy towel that suddenly appeared in their hands.

Carefully, Crowley shifted, and the book vanished from his fingers as he looked at the demons and the lone angel. “I think that was one of the best baths I’ve ever had.” He commented, smiling happily.

He got out of the bath, rubbing himself down with the towel, miraculously becoming perfectly dry as it passed over his skin. He finished and stood there, looking at the scared and uncomfortable crowd.

“Well then,” His smile was smug, nearly cat-like, “I bet you’re thinking to yourself ‘if he can handle this, what else can he handle? What can his angel do?’”

There was a silence in the air, and he shrugged, moving to get dressed with a snap of his fingers, once more in his dark clothes, straightening up his red tie. “I think it would be for the best if we are left alone in the future. Don’t you?”

Beelzebub and Michael both silently nodded as Crowley flashed them a grin, putting his shades over his eyes, stepping towards the door, dropping the towel on the Archangel’s shoulder.

“Beautiful! Just lovely! Well then, so long!”

The Metatron, Gabriel, and the lesser demon stared in shock and terror as Aziraphale stood in the fire without any trouble, in fact, it almost appeared as if he was enjoying it as one would enjoy a nice, hot shower after a long day.

He cracked his neck and turned to look at them. He smiled before throwing back his head and spewing hellfire at the two celestial beings, who were quick to back away in fear. Gabriel yelped when his suit nearly caught on fire.

Aziraphale smirked, his grin almost devilish.

“HE’S… NOT ONE OF US ANYMORE.” The Metatron spoke, his echoing voice nearly shaking.

Gabriel nodded numbly and gestured for the demon to close the door for the lantern. The fires died quickly and Aziraphale stood there, gently dusting soot off of his shift and coat. “Luckily for you, this didn’t burn.” He commented, his cold, blue eyes on the two angels.

He then brightened up and chuckled. “It seems that not even Heaven’s strongest punishment can work on me, how interesting. So, what happens now?”

“WE HAVE NO CHOICE… BUT TO LET YOU GO.”

“Smart move there.” He adjusted his bowtie once more, stepping away from the three as he made his way for the elevator, throwing a hand up over his shoulder with a small wave. “Ciao!”

The elevator dropped down to the main floor, just as the elevator next to it rose up to the same floor. Aziraphale stepped out of his, turning to look at Crowley who was walking with a relaxed swagger, turning to face his companion.

“Now that was playing with fire.” Aziraphale said in a tone that was not his usual one.

“Seems you were right.” Crowley replied, his voice lighter in tone, the smile on his face like that of a cat that ate the canary.

They found themselves on a bench in Berkeley Square, keeping an eye out for anyone who was not human. Crowley sat, straight back and rather proper, hands on his lap. Aziraphale was to his left, leaning back, a leg crossed over the other.

“Do you think they’ll leave us alone for good now?” Aziraphale asked, looking at the man sitting next to him.

“Hmm… at a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened.” Snake eyes looked around. “Right, anyone looking?”

Aziraphale shook his head after a quiet pause, holding out his hand. “Nobody. Right, swap back then?” He smirked as Crowley took his hand and the world around them froze.

It took just seconds in that frozen bubble for Crowley’s clothes to change to that of a tan coat, tartan bowtie, and a blue shirt and tan pants. His dark locks changing to dirty blond, styled much differently. The face was completely different, and the eyes were much more human-like in appearance.

Aziraphale’s own clothing choice became black, with the bowtie becoming a crimson tie, his dress shoes now dirty, red trainers. His hair was black, slicked back, and blue eyes became those of a snake.

They were themselves once more, no longer wearing the faces of their counterpart. Crowley cracked his neck as Aziraphale shook himself out, reaching up to remove the dark shades from his face, handing them to the demon. “Why’d you make me wear dress shoes?” Crowley asked, happy to be in his more comfortable pair.

“Because I have standards, and I didn’t want to wear those old things.” Aziraphale replied as time started up again.

Crowley shrugged, scooting closer, wrapping an arm around the angel. “Right, well, now that we aren’t dying today and we are back in London… might I tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

Aziraphale looked at him, chuckling. “Hmm… well, temptation accomplished! Ah, you know what, I do suspect that a table for two just opened up at the Ritz, my who expected that! Must be a miracle!”

He rose from the bench, taking Crowley’s hand as the two of them walked down the path to make their way to their favorite place. Today calls for a celebration, neither of them died, Heaven and Hell fear them, and they know they’ll be left alone to live out their immortal lives without the trouble of nosy bosses.

And what better way than a date at the Ritz.

END

I made a few minor changes to the trials, simply because I really didn’t want to write for a lot of characters, and because I took some inspiration from the script book for it.

I also really like how much more cocky and snarky Radio Aziraphale and Crowley are, they really are that smug, especially Aziraphale.

I should note that I kept mentioning Aziraphale as a dirty blond, or a dark blond, cause I really can’t tell what color his hair is! I’ve seen pictures of his actor and some images have dark hair, others have a lighter tone, I know it’s the lighting, but it’s the same thing as Michael Sheen’s eyes being hazel/blue/gray in different lights, so for the sake of Good Omens... he’s got dark blond hair, nearly brown.

Thanks for reading!

Also, one-shot and drabble requests are always opened on my tumblr, and if you send me a prompt, especially for these two, I’ll see what I can do.

#good omens #radio omens #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #john's drabbles #long post

34 notes · View notes

applepiewinchesters · 5 years ago

Text

Four Times Aziraphale Wanted to Kiss You, And the Time he Finally Did (Aziraphale x Angel!Reader)

*REQUESTS ARE CLOSED*

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: Maybe Angst, Fluffiness although that’s not really a warning

The first time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was seeing you for the first time after the garden.

You were dressed in a long, flowing white dress and had come to stand beside him as you watched the animals being loaded into Noah’s ark. You were stunning, your hair in curls down your back, a popular style of the time. Just…stunning.

“Good to see you again, my dear,” Aziraphale said to you.

You smiled, “You as well, Aziraphale, I just wish it was during better circumstances” you told him.

Before Aziraphale could answer, you turned when you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning to see the demon, Crawley, standing beside you.

“Oh, hello again,” you said, giving the demon a polite nod.

Aziraphale silently cursed for the interruption, not that he wasn’t just slightly happy to see Crawley, he was a rather interesting companion.

“So, giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you?” Crawley asked, looking over to Aziraphale.

“The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again,” Aziraphale spoke.

“Most likely a good thing,” you added, the demon and angel beside you both nodded.

“What’s all this about?” Crawley asked, motioning towards the large boat in front of you all, “Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo? From what I hear, God’s a bit tetchy.”

“Wiping out the human race,” Aziraphale said, lowering his voice, “Big storm.”

“All of them?” Crawley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just the locals,” Aziraphale told him.

“I don’t believe the Almighty is upset with the Chinese,” you said, “Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians.”

“Yet,” Crawley said, shrugging.

“And God’s not actually going to wipe out all the locals,” Aziraphale spoke, “I mean, Noah, up there, his family, and his sons, their wives, they’re all going to be fine.”

“But they’re drowning everyone else?” Crawley asked, looking around, “Not the kids? You can’t kill kids.”

You and Aziraphale both just nodded, a bit uncomfortable at the realization. “Well, that’s more the kind of thing you’d expect my lot to do,” Crawley said.

“Yes, but when it’s done, the Almighty’s going to put up a new thing called a rainbow, as a promise not to drown everyone again,” said Aziraphale.

“How kind,” Crawley said sarcastically, you sort of agreed with him, you weren’t as…devoted to the ineffable plan as Aziraphale was.

“You can’t judge the Almighty Crawley,” Aziraphale argued, “God’s plans are…”

Crawley cut him off, “Are you going to say “ineffable?” he asked.

“Possibly,” Aziraphale said, making you giggle softly, the sound was music to his ears.

That was the first time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you.

The second time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was when you met Shakespeare, you looked beautiful in your long, red velvet gown, your hair still long and flowing down your back, but Crawley, well, Crowley now, interrupted you once again.

Not to mention Shakespeare kept flirting with you for lack of a better word, reciting some of his new work to you as you giggled.

“Jealous?” Crowley asked, leaning over to Aziraphale, watching as you blushed at whatever Shakespeare was telling you.

“I-I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale said, turning his gaze away from you to Crowley.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “I’m not stupid Aziraphale, I can see the way you look at her, just get on with it already, it’s been a few thousand years after all.”

Aziraphale shook his head, “I can’t, she’s too…her, and I’m too me,” he said.

“Would you like me to tell her then?” Crowley asked, smirking.

Aziraphale nearly felt his heart jump out of his chest as he quickly shook his head, “No, no, please,” he said, making the demon chuckle.

“I’m only joking,” Crowley spoke, “but I would definitely snatch her up before someone like Casanova over there does.”

Aziraphale sighed, “I’ll tell her, at the right time,” he said, although he himself had no idea when that would be.

The third time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was in 1941 in London when you both thought you were going to be rather inconveniently discorporated by a couple of scumbag Nazis.

You were pretty bad ass that day, talking back to Nazis and all, he himself wasn’t exactly that brave.

Both of you were relieved when Crowley strolled in, well, more like interpretive danced into the room, given the consecrated ground and all.

“Crowley, what are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Coming to save you two! Can’t have you getting into trouble,” he spoke, still doing his little dance, it was rather comical.

“We were doing just fine Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke.

“Ah, Anthony J. Crowley, your fame precedes you,” one of the Nazi’s spoke.

“Anthony?” Aziraphale questioned, looking to Crowley.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t say that, I’ll get used to it,” Aziraphale said.

“The famous Mr. Crowley,? That’s such a pity you must all die,” the Nazi woman spoke.

“What does the J stand for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the demon, who shrugged.

“It’s just a J really,” he said, looking off to the side, “Look at that! A whole font full of holy water, doesn’t even have any guards.”

“Enough babbling!” one Nazi yelled, “Kill them all.”

After Crowley rerouted that bomb and Aziraphale saved you all from being discorporated, you were covered in soot from the destroyed church rubble now surrounding you.

Aziraphale came over to you, taking a handkerchief out of his jacket, “Here you are my dear,” he told you, smiling.

You smiled back, “Oh, thank you,” you said, using the cloth to wipe the soot off your face, you handed it back after you were done.

“Missed a spot,” Aziraphale said, reaching out and wiping a bit of soot off your cheek, you could feel your face heat up when you looked down sheepishly.

Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to feel that heat against his lips, but he didn’t, not that time at least.

The fourth time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was shortly after you started helping him at his bookshop. You spent hours organizing books with him, finding just the right spots for everything.

He’d accumulated quite a collection over the years, and while he had no trouble organizing things, he was also happy to have some help, especially when it came from you.

After a really long day you’d even go out and buy dinner and pastries to eat together at small table by the window. It was one of his favorite things that came with you helping in the shop.

Another was when you’d bring him tea when you noticed he has having a particularly hard time organizing or trying to interpret some old language no one knew anymore.

You were incredibly kind, but truly brave when you needed to be, it was something he loved about you. Also, you were different than most angels, sometimes going against protocol for the greater good of those surrounding you, not just heaven.

Aziraphale especially loved watching how careful you were with the books, carefully placing each of them on a shelf, especially if they were very old.

You were the only one he’s found to appreciate books as much as he did, and as he watched you, he wondered what your reaction would be from just a small kiss of appreciation.

Aziraphale shook these thoughts from his mind though, still not the right time he’d decided.

The fifth time Aziraphale wanted, and did, finally, kiss you, was when he came back to the bookshop after switching places with Crowley to help the other survive their punishments for stopping the apocalypse. You’d been spared for some reason, probably since Gabriel only had some weird thing against Aziraphale.

But the look on your face when he walked through the doors of the bookshop was so full of happiness and love that he knew this had to be the right time.

You’d run up to him and hugged him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder, “I’m so glad you’re alright,” you mumbled into his jacket.

Aziraphale smiled, wrapping his own arms around you, holding you close, “I could never leave you behind, love,” he told you, making you blush as you pulled away slightly from the hug, his hands still resting on your waist.

“My dear,” he started, “forgive me if this is completely inappropriate but…”

You’d cut him off, smashing your lips against his. He was quite shocked to say the least, but soon melted into the kiss, pulling you closer to him. You tasted just as sweet as he’d imagined, and your lips were incredibly soft.

When you pulled away, you giggled at how red Aziraphale’s face had gotten, “I’d been waiting to do that for about six thousand years,” you admitted, “I could see you did too, and I figured it was now or never.”

Aziraphale smiled, leaning down to press another gentle kiss to your lips, “That is just what I was thinking,” he told you.

When you’d both told Crowley you were officially together about a week later, he nearly burst with relief, “Finally!” he shouted, “I don’t think I could take another six thousand years of the sexual tension.”

Aziraphale had choked at his tea at that comment, while you on the other hand just laughed.

A/N: This took me a few hours to write, I kept getting stuck haha, but I hope you loved it! Thank you so much for reading and all the love! Requests will be open again either later this week or next week! Love you all! ~ Sara :)

375 notes · View notes

ourownsideimagines · 5 years ago

Text

The Audience is Dead (Crowley x Best Friend!Ballet Dancer!Reader)

Characters: Crowley, ballet dancer!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon

Point of View: Second Person Reader

Summary: Crowley finds his friend dancing and they talk a bit.

Warnings: Mentions of being in some pain

Words: 752

A/N: Hey hun, I hope you don’t mind I kept this gender neutral you/your! Also I was a theatre nerd and not a dancer so I apologize if this isn’t too great w/ any kind of practice/warm-up description hehehe.

—

You had been at the dance studio for less than ten minutes when you caught a glimpse of your best friend in the practice mirror. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t turn to properly look at him.

“You don’t have to stand at the door, you know.” You told Crowley as you began to stretch, preparing yourself for practice. You had a solo routine you had to nail before the weekend was over. You could practically hear him roll his eyes and he walked further into the room, taking a seat on the bench that was off to the side. “It’s good to see you.” You tell him.

“Nice to see you to.” He said.

“Did you need to talk about something?” You asked him as you continued to stretch, utilising the floor and bar available to you within the studio.

“No, not particularly. Just came to see a friend.” He told you as he removed his sunglasses, rubbing his eyes gently.

“Then you won’t mind if I practice?” You asked, though you both knew that you’d continue regardless.

“Not at all. It amazes me what you humans can do with your bodies. If I tried anything I’ve seen you do I think I’d discorporate myself.” He laughed gently to himself, and you watched him from the corner of your eye.

“Don’t do that, that’s bad for your health.” You teased him.

“Haha, funny.” Crowley rolled his eyes. You dropped carefully to the ground, pressing your back to the floor and lifting your leg above your head, taking in deep breaths as you felt your muscles stretch. “You have a good week?”

“So far, yes. But it’s only Wednesday, so there’s still time.” You said, laughing gently as you stretched your opposite leg. “What about you, get into any trouble?”

“Oh, tons and tons. You know me, always in trouble.” Crowley crossed his legs, tucking his feet under his butt.

“Unfortunately.” You joked, and Crowley gave a mock gasp.

“You love me and my trouble.” He said, sticking his tongue out at you, a gesture that you returned as you sat up.

“Never said I didn’t.” You finished your stretches in almost silence, the occasional grumble from Crowley, and got up. You tossed him your phone. “Press play when I tell you.” You got into first position, and gave Crowley a gentle nod. The music kicked in slowly, and you let it consume you as your body began to move, guiding you across the floor, spinning and leaping, and eventually, slipping.

“Shit,” You cursed as you hit the wall mirror. That was definitely going to bruise.

“Oh, that looked like it hurt.” Crowley hissed, already getting up. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine - it happens.” You brush yourself off gently and gave him a small smile. Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Really, Crowley.”

“I’m just worried,” He said before taking his seat again.

“Yeah, I know.” You nodded. “Can you restart the music?”

You continued to dance, pausing every once in a while after you slipped to talk with Crowley - he seemed amused by your frustration over not being able to nail down your final pirouettes.

“You’re mean.” You tell him after falling, a pout on your face. “Here I am bruising my knees and destroying my feet and you’re giggling.” Crowley chuckled at this.

“Sorry, you looked like a flailing muppet.” He told you. “You should really take a break, before you hurt something.”

“I’ve already hurt something Crowley.” You rolled your eyes. “Comes with being a ballet dancer.”

“Again, I don’t know how you mortals do it.”

“Practice, Crowley.” You sigh. “You’re right though - I think I could use a break.”

“See - I knew I was good for something.” He jokes.

“Yeah, and what would that be, mister?” You ask as you stand, trying not to groan from the pain shooting through your legs. You definitely should have taken your break sooner.

“Forcing you to take your breaks. Lunch?” Crowley stands, snapping in an upward motion. You’re not surprised to find that your shoes have been swapped out for your normal sneakers, and some of your pain alleviated. You gave Crowley a thankful look before he put his sunglasses back on.

“Starving.” You loop your arm through his and sigh. “I could eat a horse.” You joke.

“That can be arranged.” He gives you a mischievous smile.

“Crowley don’t you dare.” You tell him, and though you can’t see it, you know he’s rolling his eyes.

“Ah, you’re no fun.”

#good omens #good omens x reader #platonic fic #crowley x reader platonic #crowley x ballet dancer!reader #crowley x beat friend!reader #crowley x reader #crowley #crowley good omens #anthony j crowley #x reader #x ballet dancer!reader #x best friend!reader #reader insert #good omens reader insert #my writing #reese writes #the ineffable queue

190 notes · View notes

thelastranger · 5 years ago

Note

Some more prompt writing ideas. I know I already gave two, but may I give some more ideas?😅 I just got inspired with ideas haha - GilanxJenny - HoracexCassandra - Halt×Pauline - Halt/Gilan - Gilan/Will - Halt//Crowley (I mean their friendship, not them as a couple)

Of course you may, I love getting prompts! Here’s a Halt and Crowley friendship piece!

----

Halt had never had a friend like Crowley. He hadn’t really ever had any friends besides Caitlyn. The Crown Prince of Clonmel was held to high standards and even then, the kids he was allowed to play with were put off by his unwavering stares and unroyal like behavior. His brother Ferris had always been the more popular one.

Halt hadn’t gotten easier to deal with as he grew up and left Dun Kilty. Distrustful of general authority, introverted, and off-putting were all good words used to describe young Halt O’Carrick. But Halt was also fiercely loyal and cunning. You could not ask for a better friend once you got to know him than Halt.

Crowley had never had a friend like Halt. He always had friends growing up, Crowley was an outgoing sort of person, but once he became an apprentice that changed. Ranger’s weren’t supposed to have close friends outside of the corps- it took away from the mysticism of the corps- and even inside the corps Crowley felt a little lonely. He was the youngest ranger. All the other apprentices had left once it became apparent Morgarath was taking over; from fear or by force Crowley was never sure.

Even as a ranger, Crowley was still the social person he used to be. Off-puttingly cheerful, prone to flirting, and a bit too charming for his own good was how Crowley was most often described. But Crowley was also a leader who inspired men to follow him and passionate.

On paper, no one would have expected these young men to join up together and save the kingdom, becoming best friends in the process. They were too different. One liked whistling while the other one liked silence. One preferred heavy doses of sarcasm and forged letters over the other’s preferred methods of of puns and fake identities. One was the youngest ranger who nearly got thrown out of the corps when he found out his mentor was expelled while the other was a Hibernian prince who had never actually joined the corps.

But Halt and Crowley forged a strong friendship. Maybe it was the threat of Morgarath hanging over their heads or their shared spark of defiance that bound them together. Or maybe it was that two lonely young men just simply fit as friends. Pritchard always had a hunch that when Halt and Crowley met, they would change the world. He was right.

Travelling with someone for long amounts of time can either make or break a friendship even in the best of conditions. Travelling around Araluen with a bounty on their heads, the corps disbanding, and lacking in conditions were decidedly not the best of conditions. Perhaps that was why their friendship was so strong. Halt and Crowley early on had been through the most trying times in their friendship so whatever happened later on would be nothing compared to the early years of their friendship.

Perhaps it was the way that Crowley and Halt riffed off of each other, sharpening the other and pushing him to be better than before. One had to be lightning fast to keep up with Crowley Meratyn and one had to always be paying attention when it came to talking with Halt O’Carrick. Crowley understood Halt’s plans, his willingness to let things play out just a little bit longer to call out the bluff, and Halt understood Crowley’s plans, his desire to spring into action to call someone out.

When Halt is scanning the bar for suspects and informants, Crowley is flirting with maidens and charming everyone around him. They both get information; albeit in different ways. Halt knows the differences in looks when Crowley is flirting with someone for real or when he’s flirting with them for information. Crowley knows exactly when Halt is going to throw a punch, a near impossible to see raise of an eyebrow, and when Halt is going to bluff his way in with a forged letter or two.

It’s the intuitiveness that the men know of each other. The ability to know what the other is thinking. An unspoken way of communication forged across many years of fighting back to back against the enemy. They share the same spark, the same ability to grit one’s teeth and fight another day despite everything.

Halt has never had a friend like Crowley. A friend who, despite all the annoying flirting and whistling, has Halt’s back no matter what. A friend who is more like a brother to Halt than Halt’s own brother.

Crowley’s never had a friend like Halt. A friend who gets the bone-aching loneliness of a ranger’s life. Someone who, despite being a Gloomy Gus, can match Crowley’s passion in an instant. Crowley’s never had a brother, but he imagines that having Halt O’Carrick as a friend was like having Halt O’Carrick as a brother.

#Ranger's Apprentice #Halt O'Carrick #Crowley Meratyn #Prompt

31 notes · View notes

nancywheelxr · 6 years ago

Note

Ok OK now I am ready. This isn’t very specific but if you could find a way for Crowley to have his wings be injured and Zira help him, that would be rad!! (Haha) Maybe you could do a double whump and he gets ill (idk how i already did a holy object prompt but it will be different I’m sure!) and that’s how he hurts his wings. His wings are just so pretty!! So we must DESTROY THEM... right??

Okay, oh my god, I already had a prompt exactly like this about Crowley’s wings so I’m answering them both here, but the illness bit didn’t really work in this story so like, if you want, you can send me another prompt later!

And @umbrella-babies here it is!

The day had begun perfectly sensible, not too bright and not too dim, just the exact thing you expect from your English summer; a sure sign Adam has got the hang of this Antichrist thing.

Which is why, perhaps, Aziraphale should have known it could only go downhill from there. It’s just how these things go. But alas, he did not and therefore did not pick up on the vague sense of impending doom that loomed by the door when the knocking began.

“Oh, Crowley,” he gasps once the demon comes into view in the sidewalk outside. He’s soaking wet from head to toe, hair plastered to his forehead, and his wings– oh, his wings! They’re torn in some places, a few primaries hanging loose, and his left wing is definitely bent awkwardly. “What have you done?”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Crowley scowls, wiping pitifully the cracked lenses of his glasses. “Didn’t even mean to come here, was trying for my flat, really, but it’s impossible to see in these blasted things,” he takes off his sunglasses angrily, but still tucks them safely in the inside pocket of his ruined jacket.

Well, that explains nothing.

“My dear boy,” Aziraphale begins carefully, sensing Crowley is in a spiky mood and could very well stomp away, bloody wings and all, but finds he doesn’t quite know what to say and trails off awkwardly.

Mercifully, Crowley beats him to it. “Although now that I’m here,” he looks down at himself, turning his nose at the sight, and glances back at Aziraphale, yellow eyes almost bashful. “Would you mind, erm,” he gestures vaguely at his dripping clothes.

“Oh, oh, of course,” Aziraphale hurries out. Truth be told, he had been itching to take a closer look at the damage, see if he can soothe the inevitable pain there, and receiving permission to fuss comes as a blessed relief.

First, he miracles the water away, drying up Crowley in the afternoon sun before the demon caught a cold. Then, he prepares himself to assess the wings, grimacing already at the poor estate they’re in.

“Do come in, dear,” he ushers Crowley in now that he isn’t dripping wet anymore and is no longer a threat to his books, but the demon digs in his heels, spluttering adamant noises about not needing to be coddled.

Absolutely nonsense if you ask Aziraphale.

“If you’re quite done,” he sniffs after Crowley finished talking himself into circles, “the tea is getting cold.”

Crowley huffs.

“Fine. Have it your way, angel,” he glares, then adds haughtily, “but I reserve the right to complain the whole time.”

They end up settling on Crowley staying in the small room upstairs since Aziraphale hardly ever indulges in sleeping anyway.

And if it should have been dusty and moldy after not being used in several decades, well, it had never occurred to either of them that that should be the case, so the room had the good sense of adjusting itself.

Crowley’s wings were in quite a state, too, but it shouldn’t take too long to heal, about a week or so if he doesn’t move them much, Aziraphale would say.

While Crowley halfheartedly suggests miracling them better, they both know this kind of things are best left to their own devices, nothing good comes of rushing the ethereal– or, erm, the occult, in this case1.

So now, Aziraphale does his best to clean up the mud and torn feathers, and set the bone right, Crowley standing stock still under his hand and shivering every minute or so.

It must be a bit cold without a shirt on, the shop is a bit drafty, he has to admit.

“Crowley,” he says the next day while watching the telly he had set up on the counter of his shop to remind his customers they’d be better off leaving the books be.

“Yes, angel?” comes the silky reply from the backroom.

“The news is reporting a rather interesting story,” he says mildly, “it seems a gentleman was caught wrestling the ducks at St. James yesterday.”

Silence reigns for a minute.

Then, “humans lie, you shouldn’t believe everything you see on TV, you know.”

“Oh, do they now,” Aziraphale smiles amusedly. He can just see the pout Crowley is undoubtedly sporting right now. Still, “but the ducks, really?”

A pause.

“Yes, well, maybe the ducks were being bloody bastards.”

“Of course, dear, I’m sure the ducks had it coming,” he laughs quietly, turning up the volume just a notch, just to be sure it’s heard in the backroom.

The strange thing out of all this isn’t having Crowley over but how normal it feels to have Crowley over. It’s alarmingly easy to accommodate him into Aziraphale’s routine and the sight of the demon lounging in sunlit places of the shop is alarmingly endearing. He rather looks like a cat, stretched on the loveseat or curled up in corners, and Aziraphale feels something warm perking up inside his chest every time he catches sight of him.

It’s also quite easy to bid him good night after late night drinks and watch him bound upstairs, a bit unsteadily and giggling all the way, and it’s even easier to huff a laughter at his mussed hair in the morning.

It’s considerably less easy not to follow him up to the bedroom, but Aziraphale is very good at not thinking about things like this. And it’s not as if they’re new, anyway.

That being said, this doesn’t mean Crowley isn’t making good on his word– while he’s not doing anything so obvious as complaining, he’s set on making Aziraphale kick him out.

He whines about the tea and he whines about the coffee, and he whines about having to walk all the way back to the park to pick up the Bentley he left behind2.

But most of all, Aziraphale is dead sure that Crowley is attracting people into the bookshop.

Ever since the demon had taken up residence upstairs, at least three or two people can be found in the shop every hour or so. It’s the most customers it’s seen on the regular ever since being opened and before the invention of ebooks, and it’s understandably very confused and upset. Aziraphale is climbing up the walls to shoo them all out and discouraging them from purchasing anything of true value3.

It makes no harm, but it’s driving Aziraphale mad.

Enough is enough, he thinks, as he steels himself to confront Crowley in the backroom. It should not make him this nervous, it’s just Crowley after all, but Aziraphale has never been terribly good at saying no to the demon. It’s almost impossible, in fact, what with those wide golden eyes staring up at you. Impossible, he swears.

“Crowley,” he says, firmly, and pats himself in the back for his assertiveness, “you must stop this nonsense at once.”

The bell rings at the front.

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about, angel,” Crowley drawls. On his lap, today’s paper is open in the crosswords, halfway done.

“Hello?” a voice calls from the front.

“That is what I’m talking about,” Aziraphale huffs, gesturing the door separating them from the irritating customer in the other room. He gives him a pointed look. “You know very well what you’re doing. It won’t work, anyhow, so there’s no need to keep on with it.”

“Still haven’t the foggiest, sorry.”

“Hullo? Anyone here?”

“It sounds like you got a customer, angel,” Crowley smirks and his amusement is visible even through the sunglasses. It’s written all over him, really. “You should see to that, it won’t do to lose business now, not in this economy.”

“Are you serious– oh for the love of–,” he bustles to the front of the shop, zeroing on the lady by the counter and shooing her right off. “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but we’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back at some other time, or not, that’s up to you, but I must insist that you leave.”

The lady seems quite annoyed at that and not very likely to come back at all, and Aziraphale flips the sign in the front to make it extremely clear they will not be opening today. The door locks, a deadbolt that had not been there before sliding shut.

“There,” he says once he’s back, crossing his arms over his chest to indicate he’s not, he’s not… playing around. “That’s taken care of. I understand it must be quite boring to stay here all this time, but is this really necessary, dear boy?”

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “If you’re implying I’m somehow using a miracle or two to tempt people into coming in,” he leans forward on his seat, lips curling into a sharp grin, “then I’d have to say it would be impossible. I am, after all, terribly injured. Unless, of course, you were to agree that twisting a wing or two the wrong way is not so serious as you make it to be.”

Aziraphale narrows his eyes. “That’s all right,” he smiles serenely, “if you say so. But since your corporation is in fine shape, you’ll have no problem in showing the next customers around the shop, then.”

“Now, wait a second there, Aziraphale–”

The influx of customers dwindles drastically after that.

“After all,” Aziraphale says by the end of the week, after checking over the now nearly healed injuries on Crowley’s wings. The feathers are soft to the touch again and the bone seems to be well on its way to fully healed. A small part of him, the one he takes great care not to notice too much, already grieves the loss of not having the demon around as much. “What were you doing in the park?”

Crowley ducks his head, buttoning his shirt back on with not so steady fingers, and pointedly not looks at him. “It’s none of your business,” he sighs, “but if you must know, I was meeting an antique’s dealer.”

“An antique’s dealer,” Aziraphale repeats disbelieving. A bottle of a very good red wine appears in his liquor cabinet and he pours them both healthy doses. “You’re thinking of acquiring any more priceless pieces of art?”

He’s thinking of the Mona Lisa sketch in Crowley’s apartment, yes. Crowley gives him a look through his sunglasses the says oh, get off it, enough about the Da Vinci. Aziraphale sips his wine and pretends he didn’t see it. “No, not exactly,” Crowley continues, primly reaching for his suit jacket and bringing out a black box that should not have fit there from the breast pocket. “I was buying this old thing off his hands.”

Curious despite himself, Aziraphale makes for the box, hesitating until Crowley nods his permission. Then, he opens it carefully, half afraid of what might be inside, Heaven knows what could have moved Crowley into sniffing around the antiques black market after all.

A pocket watch.

The answer is a golden, shiny pocket watch that Aziraphale knows will have his name engraved in the back and whose seconds hand always runs just a bit too fast.

He knows this because it’s the pocket watch he lost somewhere in Switzerland around the late 19th century. He had mourned its loss all throughout the 20th century and certainly moaned about it to the demon many times.

“Is this,” he murmurs, gently pulling it out of the box, lets the chain pool on his open hand. “Oh, Crowley.”

“Don’t say anything,” Crowley warns, glumly retreating as far in the couch as possible, as if distancing himself from it. “It’s only so you’ll stop whining about it. It was starting to get on my nerves, is all.”

“Of course it is, my dear,” Aziraphale says with a knowing smile. It won’t do to push Crowley on this, they’ve played this tune a few times over the year and it always sounds best when he lets the demon keep up the selfish appearances. Still, he knows the tenderness, the gratitude, and all this warm, light love must be glowing through his eyes. “Is this what you were wrestling with the ducks for?”

“Yes, the bastards nicked it from my hand when I was distracted,” he scowls again, shoulders easing a little and tension seeping from his edges. “Figured it wouldn’t take much to get it back, but turns out they’re bloodthirsty gits. Below should consider replacing a few hellhounds with them, I’ll say.”

Aziraphale hums distractedly in agreement. Crowley can talk all he wants, go into another one of his rants, and think he’s fooling everyone but the watch doesn’t lie. It’s like back in Tadfield, something is loved enough and it leaves footprints behind. This is no different, it stayed this whole week and a half with Crowley and some of his feelings towards it have bled into the metal.

And Aziraphale knows for a fact Crowley doesn’t care for watches of any kind, much less something so outdated.

He smiles.

“Thank you, Crowley,” he interrupts him mid-rant, watches his eyes go round behind the glasses and his face turn a shade redder. Crowley falls silent, softens.

“Don’t mention it, angel,” Crowley shrugs carelessly, voice is anything but. His wings flutter in the ethereal plane and the air where they would be shimmers. Thank you, he means.

Aziraphale sets the box down in the desk and hooks the watch into his vest. The sunlight reflects off the gold and warms the room. He pours them more wine and it tastes even sweeter with the I love you too floating between them4.

1. See, around the fifth century Aziraphale got his own wings in a spot. It was a case of bad landing, really, a silly mistake, but it twisted his right wing wrong at the tips and the bone cracked a bit. Nothing to worry over, and since he had been in a rush, Aziraphale had healed it on the spot.

Never was the same, that one. Always itches when it rains.

2. That had been an interesting conversation and Aziraphale had been amused by it, on and off, for days. Why didn’t you drive it here? he had asked that first night while pouring them both some wine. Crowley had made an affronted noise, soaking wet? It would’ve ruined the leather! the demon had huffed. Why didn’t you dry yourself up, then? And that had been met with an awkwardly guilty silence. Crowley had not thought of that at the time and left the Bentley alone in the park.

The papers next day had reported love of my life by the English band Queen could be heard playing all night long near St. James Park.

3. Not that any of them buy anything. They seem to come in very intent on buying rare and early editions of all sorts of books, but they all end up losing interest after a good fifteen minutes. Aziraphale hasn’t sold a copy in the whole week, except for a guide to London to a very lost tourist looking for the Eiffel Tower.

4. As it turns out, the wine is at it’s sweetest when tasted in Crowley’s tongue, but Aziraphale won’t find this until a few days later when Crowley’s wings heal and he shows no intention of moving back out.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #innefable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #good omens fic #look an ask #good omens tag #innefable husbands tag

164 notes · View notes