#crowley makes my roses grow

[constancelangdon-thesupreme]

🪽 👹

[constancelangdon-thesupreme]

I’m one of that secret network.

And I’m not an underling.

Crowley still having contacts in Hell after Armageddidnt is such a logical concept

He is the Serpent of Eden. He has Satan knows how many commendations (some rightfully so, most of them not so much but alas don't judge a hard working sod)

That doesn't come with a considerable amount of, at the very least, respect from some demons. Friends? No. Not friends. Demons don't have friends (looking at you Hastur and Ligur. You homosexuals. I know what you are). But respect? Cmon. Even in the most vicious corporations the underlings have some amount of respect for the guy with a reputation and awards in his cabinet. And Crowley not only has A Title that he upholds for 6000 years now, but his reputation claims he invented something as vicious as the Spanish Inquisition

That, my friends, calls for respect

Those people that play Crowley as a nobody demon easily ignored by the masses before the whole Holy Water thing clearly haven't watched the show properly

What type of invisible low-key powerless demon would not only have A Fucking Title but two Dukes of Hell constantly on his heels? And what type of nobody demon would be tasked with triggering the fucking Armageddon?

I tell you what type: none. Because Crowley is not a nobody. Even before the trial he was already known by the masses

He was the original tempter. All the other demons specialized in temptation came AFTER him. He is the OG. The reference

So, yes. It's easy to imagine Crowley has contacts in Hell. Now, not only due to respect but also fear because of the holy water debacle. Who, amongst the nobody demons, doesn't want to be in the good graces of the Big Bad Accomplished Serpent of Eden that has Rebelled Against Hell and Can Survive Holy Water?

It's only logical. Law of survival

Is Crowley full of bullshit and most his accomplishments are lies and rubbish? And he is very much not immune to holy water? Yes. But they don't know! And that's the whole point

Bet that Crowley, low-key as paranoid as he is, spent the last 4 years after the Apocadoesnt with one ear on Earth and the other on Hell to make sure no waves were rippling that would threaten him and, specially, his angel

Call me crazy but that man has a whole secret network of underlings that feed him information on Hell's movements

[alastor-simp]

Taking Care Of My Rose - Riddle Roseheart x Sick Fem Reader

Summary- You are suffering from an illness and are unable to attend class because of it. What you didn’t expect was your red haired boyfriend to take care of you

Tags: Riddle Roseheart x Reader, Fluff, Sick Reader, Romance, Riddle is such a gentleman, cute, taking care of sick reader, riddle and reader are a couple, Couples

Notes: Getting back into writing for Twisted Wonderland. Wanted to do a sick fanfic with the little red headed dorm leader cutie. Enjoy!

*RAMSHACKLE DORM*

“NYAHH! MINION! WHY DID YOU FORGET TO WAKE ME UP!?!?” A loud cry had awoken you from your slumber. Groggily waking up, you looked to see Grim, glaring at you from the floor, ears flaming with anger. Slowly getting up from the bed, you moved over to place your feet on the ground, looking at Grim, apologetically. "I'm sorry Grim. I'm getting up." The minute you said that and stood up from the bed, your vision went blurry and you felt your knees grow weak, causing you to collapse to the ground, earning a shocked cry from Grim. "AH! MINION! ARE YOU OKAY?" You heard the little patter of paws moving closer to you, Grim face peering at you with concern. Your vision was slowly coming back, but now you felt like it was 100 degrees right now and you began to shiver. Grim continue to eye you with concern, moving to place his paw hand against your head. "Your head is very warm."

You tried to get up from the ground, but there was no energy in your legs to move, thankfully the ramshackle ghosts flew in and helped you up, placing you back on to the bed. "Thank you." The ghosts gave a smile before disappearing. Placing a hand on your head, you felt the warmth radiating off on you, making you realize that you probably have come down with something. "I'm sorry Grim, It looks like your going to have to go to class without me today." You spoke to Grim, as he still looked worried. "I'll be okay Grim. Just let the teachers know that I'm sick okay?" Grim gave you a nod, and scattered away to the front door, leaving you alone.

You maneuvered your body to lay back against the bed, pulling the blanket back over yourself. Since you didn't have any meds at the moment, you were gonna have to sleep the sickness off, hoping that you had enough energy to head to Sam's to purchase some medicine. It would have been nice if Crowley provided you with some proper necessities when you first arrived in this world, but knowing how irresponsible he was, you expected him not to care. Heaving a sigh, your adjusted your head on the pillow, hoping you would be able to fall asleep.

**4 Hours Later**

A sudden softness was placed on your forehead, causing you to arouse from your sleep. Upon opening your eyes, your vision unblurred seeing a certain red headed person gazing at you. "Ah, you are awake." A regal voice spoke to you. It took you a minute to realize it was Riddle, the dorm leader of Heartslabyul, dressed in his school uniform, who was looking down above you, as you laid on your bed. Widening your eyes, you were surprised to see him here. "Oh Riddle! What are you doing here?" You lifted your body a bit off the bed, going from laying down to sitting on it. Riddle's usual stern eyes were gazing at you with softness, as continued to stand near your bed. "Grim had announced your sudden ailment to the whole class when he arrived. Professor Trein understood and made it aware to the other teachers as well after class. Trey and the others wanted to attend and see how you were doing, but I told them I would be the one to check on you and see how you were doing, as well as bring the assignments that you missed during class."

You smiled that your friends cared so much about you, and happy that Riddle had come to see you, but you knew this was a burden to him, since he had many duties he needed to perform at his dorm. "I'm happy you came to check on me, Riddle, but you can head back." Riddle's grayish blue eyes gave you a strict gaze, as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "My duties at Heartslabyul can be postponed at the moment. Besides according to the Rule: 809- The queen must make sure all of her subjects are taking care of when sick." You giggled at that, telling Riddle he made that up. His cheeks had flared pink after you said that, head turned to the side in embarrassment, "A-and If I did, what of it?" Aww it was cute how much of a tsundere he was. "Riddle, you could have just said you were worried about me." Riddle froze at that, mouth opening and closing like a fish, before he heaved a sigh, looking a you with kind eyes and a soft smile. "I-I was worried for you."

His hand reached over and patted your head, before moving to place against your forehead again, checking your temperature. "Oh dear, you are burning up! When had you taken your medicine?" You had told Riddle, who hadn't taken anything, which caused him to widen his eyes in shock. "YOU HAVE BEEN HERE ALL BY YOURSELF AND HAD NOT TAKEN ANY FORM OF MEDICINE OR CONSUMED ANY FOOD OR DRINK?!?" His voice had reached a booming volume, causing you to wince. "I don't have any of that stuff in this dorm. Crowley doesn't provide me with enough Thaumarks to afford any of that stuff. I was hoping to rest a bit and then if I felt better, I would get something at Sams." Riddle wasn't upset at you, he was just more mad that you weren't getting proper care. He was, however, enraged with the headmage. He did offer to give you a place to stay, but to think he had neglected to give you enough funds and necessities to live at the dorm, had him fuming. If he was in front of him right now, he would Off With His Head.

Calming down, Riddle gazed at you apologetically, "I sincerely apologize for raising my voice. I am not angry with you, but you will not be able to heal the sickness that way." Riddle had risen from the chair, and started to make his way to out of your room. "I will go get the necessary supplements from Sam. It will only be a moment, so I instruct you to remain in bed. Understood?" Riddle had turned his head back to look at you, and you nodded at his statement before settling back down on the bed. As you watched him leave the room, your eyes grew heavy again and you drifted back to sleep.

**A Couple Minutes Later**

You woke up to the sounds of the door opening, and lifted you head to see Riddle had come back, carrying a tray. His hair was a bit unkept and his clothes looked a bit ruffled as he walked closer to you. Making his way towards you, he sat back down on the chair, and placed the tray on the nearby table. Grabbing the bowl from the tray, Riddle handed it to you. "I have prepared some tomato soup for you. It should be enough to fill you up and help with the sickness. After your done, I'll give you some medicine to take." The bowl in your hands was warm, and the broth was a very dark red, which warmed your heart. "I didn't know you could cook Riddle." You smiled back at Riddle, as his face flushed a bit. "I-it is my second attempt at preparing something like this. I had cooked for Trey when he was sick with Lilia-senpais help, but from what I have heard from Sebek and Silver, it was a dire mistake to have asked him, but Trey didn't complain and ate it all." Riddle face had drew into a soft smile, as he remembered that time he tended for the vice dorm lead. Your heart soared seeing Riddle like this, behind all that stern exterior and going by the rules attitude, he was a kind loving boy, who cared deeply for those he cared about.

Thanking Riddle for the soup, you grabbed the spoon and lifted it to your mouth, tasting it. You hummed at the pleasant taste, it wasn't overly amazing, but it wasn't bad either, it was simple, which warmed you greatly. "Its good." You saw Riddles shoulders untense, as his body relaxed, knowing now that the soup he made was satisfactory and not a disaster. After you had finished eating, you handed the bowl back to Riddle, as he placed it down, and then grabbed a glass of water, and some pills that were on the tray, "Here you go. This should help with the fever and body aches." Grabbing the medicine, you swallowed it and chase it down after with water. "Thank you." Riddle responded back with a nod, as he placed the glass back down, then grabbed a cooling pad and placed it on your forehead, causing you to giggle, causing Riddle to raise an eyebrow. "May I ask why you are laughing?" "Sorry..sorry. It's just seeing you like this. So different from how you usually are at your dorm" Riddle stilled at that, not expecting that response. Darting his head down, his hands began to twiddle, something he often detested when others did it. "My past was always rules, rules, rules, study, study, study......there was never a time for me to engage in other things or interact with others, except Trey and Chenya, but they were rare occurrences. The more I spend time with you, the more I discover new things and different sides to myself."

His eyes remained downcast, but his face held new resolution. This is the riddle you have grew the love, yet his bossy side was adorable too. "Well I like both sides of you, if you were wondering." Giving him a playful smile, Riddle couldn't hold back a laugh from seeing it on your face, returning your little flirt, with his trademark smirk, "Heh~ You're quite a bold one, aren't you, my rose." His fingers then raised to give your forehead a little flick, which only made you giggle more. "Come now, its time for you to get some rest. You won't be able to make a full recovery like this." His fingers pointed to the pillow on your bed, instructing you to lay down, which you did. Settling yourself against on the bed, you turned to your side to gaze at Riddle. "Will you stay by my side until I fall asleep?" Riddle smiled kindly back at you, moving closer from where he was seated, giving your forehead a soft kiss. "I will." Leaning back, Riddle started to hum a soft melody for you, helping you to fall back asleep. After a few minutes, your eyes had shut, and your breathing had slowed. His gray eyes remained locked on you, admiring how soft you looked when asleep. Getting up from the chair, Riddle was ready to depart from you, making a mental note to remind himself to check on you again later. As he made his way towards the door, he turned back around, peering at you one more time. "Sweet dreams, my rose."

-END-

Tags- @inkslayer , @aria-tempest , @batmanmonstarr

@sadnessiscoldtea , @madam-strawberryrose , @91062854-ka

@crazed-flower , @darischerry ,

@lillyisfreakyy

[the-broken-truth]

Twisted Wonderland Nonsense [8]: Magical Core Meeting

[Note: This Could Be Made Into A Mini-Series & Possible Comic.]

[Genderless Yuu - Will Decide Gender Later]

[Headmage Dire Crowley called the Dorm Wardens to an Emergency Meeting.]

Crowley (Smiling): Thank you for attending this sudden meeting, Dorm Wardens.

Leona (Yawns): Just what do you want, Crowley?

Riddle: Kingscholar, show respect. (Looks at Crowley) What is the meaning of this meeting, Headmage?

Crowley: This meeting regards the current condition of the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu [L/N].

[The mention of Yuu's Name causes the Dorm Wardens, even Leona, to set up in their chairs; showing that they are ready for any information.]

Riddle: There is nothing wrong with the Prefect, is there, Headmage Crowley?

Crowley: Nothing negative, no. However, this is a rather interesting phenomenon. It would seem that the Prefect of Ramshackle is becoming more like their peers.

Azul: What do you mean?

Kalim: Yeah, what's happening to Jewel?!

Crowley: A few weeks ago, The Prefect informed me that they were feeling strange; increased energy, speed, and strength along with other things. What they were truly concerned about was the occasional glow in their eyes when they were looking at a mirror. I was concerned for them, so I asked the Nurse to look over them.

Malleus: What did the Nurse find?

Crowley: Trace of Magic within them; it was weak, but still present.

Idia (Tablet): That's not possible. Sugar Skull is Magicless; how could there be traces of magic within them?

Crowley: I said the same thing, Mr. Shroud, and asked the Nurse if he was certain about his findings. The Nurse informed me that, upon conducting an examination of Yuu's Being, a Magical Core was forming within their body; it's currently small, but it appears to be growing as time goes on.

Riddle: Wait. Rose is 'forming' a Magical Core within themself? How is that possible?

Crowley: I am not entirely certain, but I have a theory: The Prefect unknowing has been absorbing magic into their being by facing the Overblots, coming in contact with other magical students, or the magic fragments loosely floating in the air. I asked the Nurse to record and document and the Prefect appears to possess more than one magic type.

Vil: What kinds?

Crowley: From what was documented: Fire, Lightning, and Wind.

Riddle: Interesting combination... What is next, Headmage?

Crowley: Currently, the Prefect is practicing with the Nurse to harness their new power; what's interesting is that they don't need a Mage Stone Pen to draw it out.

Leona: How?!

Crowley: Something about channeling the energy into the tips of their fingers as an outlet; how like Mage Stone Pens are Outlets for Our Magic. However, Crewel has convinced me to acquire a pen for them; so I am currently working on that.

Malleus: And the Child of Man's Dwelling?

Crowley: What do you mean?

Malleus: When the Child of Man arrived here one year ago, they were unable to be sorted because they were magicless, but now that they have acquired magic of their own; they should be resorted into a proper down. Diasomnia would be perfect for my Child of Man.

Leona: As if, Lizard! 3 Elemental Magics is power and the Powerful belong in Savanaclaw! The Herbivore belongs with us!

Riddle: Rose is more aligned with Heartslabyul, considering they follow rules while being allied with Ace and Deuce.

Kalim: Jewel is very smart! They should come to Scarabia! Jamil would be happy to have them there!

Vil: My Sweet Potato is far too lovely and refined to be in any dorm that is not Pomefiore.

Azul: I disagree. Octavinelle owes a lot to Pearl's Deal-Making Skills; they should join us.

Idia (Tablet): Sugar Skull would be best fitted in Ignihyde. They are as mysterious as ever.

Malleus: The Child of Man is more noble. They shall come to Diasomnia.

Crowley: Alright, enough. The Prefect's Dorm is Ramshackle unless they wish to be sorted by the Dark Mirror. If they tell me they desire to be placed in a dorm, I shall make the preparations; however, it's their choice. Now, the meeting is over. I need to get the Mage Stone Pen.

[All the Dorm Wardens leave the meeting with the same thing on their minds: The Prefect is coming to my dorm.]

[harunayuuka2060]

Riddle: What's going on? Why are you insisting to share a bed with me?

Baby MC: *gives him a big hug*

Riddle: ...

Trey: *knocks on his door and walks in* *once he sees them, lets out a sigh of relief*

Trey: I'm glad they're here.

Riddle: What happened, Trey? I asked you to tuck them in.

Trey: I did. But it's still a little bit early so I read them a book.

Riddle: A book?

Trey: Yes. And um... *troubled smile* I think they didn't like it.

Riddle: What was it about?

Trey: Siblings who became distant after the years passed by.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *stern* Trey.

Trey: I know. I'm sorry. I thought it was a good story because of the drawings.

Ace: Housewarden Riddle, aren't you a little bit late for class now?

Riddle: Yes. But Professor Trein will understand. *helping Baby MC to change clothes*

Riddle: Nope. These are too tight. Bring me another.

Heartslabyul student: Yes, housewarden! *runs to get another pair of shoes*

Baby MC: Yada?

Riddle: Yes. Those shoes are not a good fit.

Ace: Oh. Maybe because they've grown a little.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Right.

Baby MC: *staring curiously at their brother*

Lilia: What's wrong, Riddle Rosehearts? You seem a little bit gloomy today.

Riddle: Ah, Lilia-senpai.

Lilia: Oh. And hello too, Baby Rosehearts. You look adorable as usual.

Baby MC: Yeyu~!

Lilia: *chuckles* So, what's bothering us today?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: I just realized... MC is growing too fast. Soon enough, I would've to return them to the Queendom of Roses.

Lilia: Oh? But didn't your mother ask you to take care of them because she was too busy to watch over her baby?

Riddle: She was worried that it would affect my studies so she started hiring some nannies.

Riddle: Anyway, I wouldn't be bothered by something so trivial.

Lilia: *looks at the baby*

Baby MC: *listening intently*

Lilia: I don't think it's trivial at all. You see, you might be worried that you're not creating enough core memories for your baby sibling.

Riddle: Is that so...?

Lilia: Yes. *chuckles* You should cheer up. You wouldn't want the baby to pick up sad emotions.

Riddle: Yes. That's right.

Deuce: Housewarden Rosehearts! I think MC went out again!

Riddle: I see. I'll check where they are. *uses his baby tracker*

Riddle: Hm? It says here they're in the office of the headmage.

Deuce: The headmage's office?

Riddle and Deuce: ...

Riddle: *has arrived to the headmage's office and witnessing the commotion*

Professor Trein and Professor Crewel: *laughing as they find the situation amusing*

Crowley: *in a chipmunk voice* Professor Trein and Professor Crewel! Don't just stand there and help me!

Baby MC: *has used their magic on him to make him tiny* Yabababu? *holding a contract Azul made for them in which it states that MC should be a student of Night Raven College the moment they could read and write*

Crowley: No! I won't be signing that contract!

Baby MC: ...

Baby MC: *turns their head to Professor Trein*

Professor Trein: Headmage, you don't have any choice right now. The baby is the one who can only break their own signature spell.

Crowley: Oh...

Riddle: ...

Professor Crewel: There you are, Mr. Rosehearts. Come in.

Riddle: What happened?

Professor Crewel: Your baby sibling wishes to spend time with you as much as they could. In fact, they've got the approval of your mother.

Professor Crewel: Headmage is the only one being stubborn right now.

Crowley: My dear Night Raven College is not a kindergarten... *sobs*

Riddle: *once they got back to Heartslabyul*

Baby MC: Yayi?

Riddle: Pft— Yes. *kisses their cheek* You really scared the headmage.

Baby MC: *giggles* *kissing his cheek back*

Riddle: *chuckles*

[mimisempai]

You are the calm in my storms

Summary

Crowley has always hated storms and this one is no different. But it could be that an angel in the cottage has decided to change his beloved demon's mood...

Notes

Flufftober Prompt : Rainy day

On Ao3

Rating G -  1014 words

Crowley had just finished attaching the last flower-laden branch of the rosebush to the stake that would keep it from breaking under its weight when he saw the first drop of rain fall on a leaf. He looked up at the grey, cloudy sky and sighed as the wind grew stronger, causing the boards of the garden shed not far from him to creak.

He knew the storm was coming, but had hoped until the last moment that it would pass them by.

He hated storms. 

He hated them for many reasons, but the most important was that since the beginning of time, storms had been God's favourite way of showing his power, and storms were never a good omen.

He knew this storm was no such thing, but that didn't stop him from hating it, and his mood was in tune with the weather. Not to mention the fact that his precious plantations were unlikely to escape unscathed.

He glanced apologetically at his rose bushes growing on the hollyhocks along the side of the cottage, as if he were responsible for the weather.

As the rain grew heavier, he gathered up his gardening tools and stowed everything away in the shed before heading out onto the porch of the cottage.

Even Aziraphale's seasonal decorations of pumpkins and corncobs failed to make him smile, and he sighed as he brushed back his damp hair before opening the cottage door.

Feeling the dampness quickly settling in, he sighed again as he stepped through the door before taking off his jacket to hang it on the coat rack.

"Angel, I -"

The demon stopped dead in his tracks as the contrast between outside and inside hit him head on.

Warmth.

There was no other word to describe his first impression.

An incredible warmth.

The wood crackled in the fireplace, its glow casting a soft light into the living room.

The round table was set, beautifully decorated in the colours of autumn, and a candelabra was lit in the centre, adding to the gentle warmth.

Finally, the demon noticed the scent of wine, orange, cinnamon and star anise wafting through the room, enhancing the sense of comfort that had begun to fill him as soon as he arrived. 

Crowley called softly, still confused, "Angel?"

"Oh, there you are, I didn't hear you." 

Aziraphale had appeared, coming out of the kitchen with a steaming mug in each hand. He looked towards the window and nodded, "I see, the storm is definitely here now."

Crowley approached and absently took one of the mugs Aziraphale was handing him and asked, "Angel, what's all this? Is it for some special occasion I've forgotten?"

The angel shook his head.

"Then why?"

Aziraphale grabbed the demon's hand and pulled him towards the couch in front of the softly crackling fire, saying quietly, "Because I know you don't like storms."

"But how do you... well, I mean, I've never mentioned it and..."

Aziraphale made him sit down and then came to sit beside him before placing his hand on Crowley's knee as he replied, "After all these years, Crowley, there are still a few things I've been able to observe, don't you think? Like the fact that you get a little crankier and grumpier than usual when there's weather like this."

Crowley swallowed slightly. It went without saying that there was little they didn't know about each other, but that didn't stop him from feeling a little naked at being exposed yet again. 

He brought the mug of fragrant mulled wine to his face and, after inhaling the soothing scent, took a sip, imitated by the angel, before setting the mug down on the coffee table.

He said with a slight hesitation, "And so, all this..." he swept an arm around them, pointing to the fire, the table, the mulled wine, and continued, "It's because of the storm..."

Aziraphale put down his mug in turn and, taking Crowley's hand, kissed it gently on the palm before replying, "It's to make you forget that there is a storm outside."

" I see. " 

The demon took another sip of his mulled wine before asking

now with a slight playful gleam in his eye, "Oh, but it's going to take more than a warm atmosphere and some mulled wine to do that, so how are you going to make me forget, Angel?"

Aziraphale, the playful gleam in his eyes mirroring Crowley's, did not answer, but pulled the demon against him until he was astride him and did not wait to capture his lips in a long, deep kiss. 

Not to be outdone, Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck and pressed in closer, the kiss lingering until they were forced to separate to catch their breath.

Crowley stepped back a little and, licking his lips, said in a slightly breathless voice, "I think it's working, Angel. I feel much better."

"If you can still talk coherently, it's clearly not good enough."

Aziraphale cupped the demon's face in his hands and pulled him to his face, capturing his lips again in another passionate kiss, the heat of which was no match for the flames in the fireplace.

Their embrace continued and, much later, as they lay on the sofa, Crowley sprawled over Aziraphale, both of them wrapped in a warm blanket, the demon said softly, "Thank you for doing this for me, Angel.

Aziraphale raised his hand and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across the demon's forehead before saying softly, "For you, always, my beloved."

The demon let out a moan of contentment that almost sounded like a purr, leaning his cheek into the angel's hand before snuggling up against him, his face in the hollow of his neck as the angel pulled back the blanket that had slipped over them.

In this cosy cocoon of softness and warmth, Crowley was now definitely oblivious to the storm raging outside.

Aziraphale gently stroked Crowley's hair, a sweet smile on his lips, secretly happy to have been able to help the demon he loved more than anything.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[marshmallow613]

Look I just think that Angel Crowley is a child and Heaven is for children and that's important.

Because we're human, and we live and we love and we lose, and we recognise nostalgia for what it is - rose tinted glasses, a longing or something that we can never have back because it was never real in the first place, we were just too small and too awestruck and too innocent to understand it.

And Crowley Falls, and he grows up, and he sees Heaven for what it is and he tries so, so hard to bring Aziraphale with him but really, how do you, how can you bear to, take that innocence away from your best friend? From the love of your life?

He never tells Aziraphale that he never got a trial. He never tells Aziraphale that by hiding Gabriel, he's risking his name being removed from the Book of Life. Despite everything he knows about Heaven, everything he's learned, he still cannot find it in himself to strip Aziraphale of the wonder, of the childish, hopeful belief that somewhere in Heaven there is still Good.

Aziraphale wants Crowley with him, yes, but he also remembers that Crowley was happy, as an angel, making stars and galaxies and nebulas. And he hasn't grown up yet, not the same way Crowley was forced to, hasn't yet understood the trauma that Heaven subjected him - subjected them both! - to.

So of course it doesn't work, when Crowley finally breaks, when he finally tries to explain that the Heaven Aziraphale idolises and believes in doesn't truly exist, because how can this suddenly be true? Why didn't you mention it before? Don't you see, this is my chance to remind them how to Do the Right Thing?

Crowley cannot teach Aziraphale what he needs to know for the same reason we hug children, and kiss their boo-boos, and tell them that everything will be alright and they will always have someone to turn to. Because we want it to be true, and no child (or Angel) should ever have to grow up too soon.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

“Did you hear? Housewarden Rosehearts is dating someone in school!” “What?! There’s no way! Him!?” “I bet whoever is dating that guy is just as stressed and high strung like him.”

The halls of Night Raven were buzzing with rumors and gossip of the biggest juicy story to come from the end of Winter Break: Riddle Rosehearts of Heartslabyul is in a relationship. With a boy! He was a son of a very well off family with lots of status and wealth alongside strong magic within his blood and sweat, like a very tough and well bred horse for racing and showing off if you will. Many would assume if he were to ever have a school love it would be one of the many beautiful and rich girls in a girl academy either nearby or in his hometown. So for him to come out and admit he has a boyfriend was a shock.

While students hurry and whisper among themselves of this gossip like giggling hags over soaking laundry on a hot afternoon, away high up in one of the higher floors tucked away in a classroom stand two young men who stay close to one another as their lips remain locked. Ace Trappola, a fresh 2nd year student and future-Vice Dorm Leader of the house Heartslabyul, reaches up and holds the small waist of his lover Riddle Rosehearts, a fresh 3rd year student and Dorm Head of Heartslabyul, who eagerly scoots even closer. The pair have begun their special connection a total of six months ago, after some hilarious hijinks that no one could imagine that made the polar opposites grow closer each second of each minute of every hour of a day.

Yes, polar opposites is the correct term…

Riddle was like a cup of tea; Easily a boiling hot level of rage over someone’s bad grammar, with a scream to match to boot, and can be a sweet and much needed calming dose in one’s life. Ace on the other hand was like coffee; One bitter bitter soul that only grows sweet and less burning to the touch if you coax him enough with cream and sugar.

Yet somehow against all odds the pair are willing to consume the sugar overdoses and tongue burns of their lover’s warm comfort and sweetness of their caffeine addictions.

“Why were you two studying in an empty classroom though??”

Ace hid his snort as curious red eyes stared up at him from the sofa, fighting his urge to laugh more when Riddle elbows his ribs. Currently, the pair are helping host a large sleepover in their home, a sweet cozy two story cottage in town covered in fine red bricks and even some ivy that overgrows across the surface in the sweet countryside of the Queendom of Roses, the ones focused on the sleepover is their dear little princess Rosealynn Trappola, though simply called Rose by everyone else, and her group of best friends to celebrate their upcoming school semesters the next day. Riddle steps forward to answer instead of his giggling husband to the group of teens, “It’s easier to study in the quiet than in the public loudness. Then we lived happily ever after. Now get ready to sleep, we all have a busy traveling day tomorrow.” The teen girl giggles and flops back on the sofa between a black haired girl and a blond lad, her freckled face a happy glow with a natural flush. Ace kisses her red hair before he and Riddle left the room to leave the friend group to chat. “Geez, it feels like yesterday she was in preschool…” “I know how you feel.”

This is my first submission to the @ridoaceweek for this year! I know it's shorter than my dramas last year with these two getting together but it'll be better, I promise!

Also, since I introduced her last year, here's Rose!

More information is here!

She attends Night Raven Collage since in this AU I view the mangas and books (which I got the first volume YAY) as canon and in canon we had a female student/maybe more thanks to Yuu so after the whole thing Crowley did something RSA would never and that is to make NRC a coed school. She's a Heartslabyul student too!

[wafflefries13]

Twisted Teas

I don’t know a lot about tea, only that I usually like it iced and sweet, a casualty of growing up in the south. But I’ve been wanting to learn more about it, especially blends. I found this cool website, Adagio Teas, that have a bunch of fan made fandom blends for a ton of different books, movies, video games, and tv shows (#notsponsored). So I thought I would try my hand at making teas for the Twisted Wonderland cast. I tried to go off vibes, color schemes, and their favorite food. Hopefully my train of thought makes sense. If anyone wants to actually try any of these let me know how they taste. 

Adagio Teas: Signature Blend

Riddle: 

Wild Strawberry 

Summer rose

Cream 

Extra scoop: Rose hips 

Ace: 

Dewy cherry

Fiery cinnamon spice 

Vanilla oolong 

Extra scoop: Cherry 

Deuce:

Green rooibos blueberry 

White blueberry

Kentucky whisky 

Extra scoop: Blueberries 

Cater: 

Passion Fruit 

Pomegranate grove 

Orange

Extra scoop: Orange peels 

Trey: 

Cocomint green 

Assam melody 

Pu-erh hazelberry 

Extra scoop: Cocoa nibs 

Leona:

Pu-erh dante 

Tiger eye 

Turmeric bliss 

Extra scoop: Marigold flowers 

Ruggie: 

Ceylon sonata 

Hojicha 

Hazelnut 

Extra scoop: Safflower 

Jack: 

Lapsang souchong 

White pear 

Almond Oolong 

Extra scoop: Ginger root 

Azul: 

Earl gray lavender 

Black cherry 

Chocolate truffle 

Extra scoop: Lavender flower 

Jade: 

Forest berries 

Almond oolong 

Toasted mate 

Extra scoop: Raspberry leaves 

Floyd: 

Autumn mist green 

Oriental spice 

Gunpowder 

Extra scoop: Cloves 

Kalim: 

White eternal spring 

White tropics 

Coconut grove pouchong 

Extra scoop: Coconut 

Jamil: 

Cinnamon rooibos chai 

Masala chai 

Mango melange 

Extra scoop: Aniseed 

Vill: 

Blackberry 

Cherry green 

Rooibos jasmine 

Extra scoop: Cornflower 

Rook:

Assam melody 

Earl gray bravo 

Butterscotch 

Extra scoop: Lemon verbena 

Epel: 

Spiced apple chai 

Candy apple 

Rooibos vanilla chai 

Extra scoop: Apple pieces 

Idia: 

Maple cream oolong 

Almond cardamom cake 

Honeybush banana nut 

Extra scoop: Cocoa nibs 

Ortho:

Almond

Chocolate chip 

Vanilla 

Extra scoop: Candycane 

Lilia: 

Earl gray moonlight 

Black cherry 

White chai 

Extra scoop: Cherry 

Silver: 

Forest berries 

Pu-erh hazelberry 

Almond oolong 

Extra scoop: Lemon balm 

Sebek: 

Kukicha 

Green chai 

Chili lime green 

Extra scoop: Lemon peels 

Malleus: 

Dragon fruit dream 

Camomile 

Citron green 

Extra scoop: Hibiscus flowers 

Crowley: 

Earl gray bravo 

Blackberry 

Caramel 

Extra scoop: Pink peppercorn 

Crewel: 

Irish breakfast 

Currant 

Hojicha 

Extra scoop: Raspberry leaves 

Trein: 

Vanilla oolong 

Cream

Butterscotch 

Extra scoop: Apricots 

Vargas:

Masala chai 

Fiery cinnamon spice 

Spiced mate 

Extra scoop: Cardamom seeds 

Sam: 

Foxtrot 

Green rooibos key west 

Citron green 

Extra scoop: Lemon peel

[twisted-gremlin]

Second years and semicolon

First years and explanation

Riddle: since tattoos didn't exist in the day of the queen of hearts, or anythibg of the like in the area, there is no law for or against them. Riddle believes that the queen would have a rule that all must have atleast one as a show of strength and fortitude or loyalty or somethjng. He just would make sure that you took care of the tattoo during the healing process. His mother probably disapproved of Riddle himself ever getting one because they could lead to an infection. So, Riddle would defonately talk to you about it, and what your means to you. I think, when the time comes. He might get a heart and rose semicolon tattoo for himself when he is old enough. He takes so much pride in it and absolutely adores it

Ruggie: he might see tattoos as a waste of money. Growing up poor, he has seen some people tossing away their money for a new tattoo. So he might antagonize you a lil more. I think Jack would actually be the one to snap at Ruggie, saying that your tattoo means alot to you and shows a big milestone. Jack dosent open up about more, so Ruggie asks you. You may either tell him to fuck off, so he does and just kinda keeps his distance. The other option is that you tell him, and he grows a bit more of an understanding for that. He is a lil more respectful and may steal some stuff for ya because you are currently broke as shit (thanks Crowley for helping)

Floyd: he fuckin thinks tattoos are the coolest thing. I think, if he ever got a tattoo, he would get a sleeve of random ass things, going to 50 differnt artists while it's being done. He bites your tattoo because look, a homing beacon of bitting. He would respect ya is you do share your story with him, and he even helps you, in his own way. He will steal you away if you get stressed, or share your guilty foods(he does this with Azul, you can't change my mind), he likes seeing his shrimp friend happy admit all the chaos they are in

Jade: he probably isn't one to get a tattoo, he might get a mushroom one as a memory of his time on the surface. But I think he would put together what your tattoo means, and so, he helps by pushing you a bit further if you don't already push yourself. If you do, then he will present himself as an obstacle so you can take a break every once in awhile. He does this with Azul and it works well with him, so why not with another friend/patron who is struggling. He will listen to your story if you wish to share it and will be there for you, and even offer to take you on hikes with his club.

Azul: I think he would not care much for tattoos, he is a business man, a tattoo would take away from the business. But when he saw yours and put together the meaning behind it, after his overblot, he accepts that, something is also wrong with him, so he asks you to his office for drinks and to talk. So he brings up your tattoo, he identifies in some way with your story, the struggling around others, the fear, the insecurity. He apologizes for his behavior recently as it put you and your livelihood in danger. He makes an offer of buying ramshake, giveing you a place on Octanavile, and a job at the Monstro Lounge. He would get a small smiple semi Colin that could be hidden in his gloves. It's a promise, to you and himself that he would never do such a thing again, he hurt his friends, scared people, and nearly killed himself. So he wants to be better than he was, being better also seems to help with his businesses aswell so why stop?

Jamil: I think he would have a bit of a stigma against tattoos, white would be for the wealthy, while black would be for criminals. Even tough it's not entirely true, he has it a bit ingrained in him that if you have ink on you, he hates you. So before his overblot, he would be cold and distant to you. After the overblot, he decides to ask about what your tattoo means to you/your culture. When you share, he apologizes for his stigma and thank you about shareing your story. I think he would ask for permission from his family and the Al-Aslims for a white and black semicolon tattoo. He helped Kalim take care of his so he knows how to do it, but Kalim this time helps him.

Kalim: bean boi already has one! So the two fo you bond over them. Tattoos are probably a mix of cultural and a sign of wealth, specifically white ones. So when you share your and the meaning to you, this man does what he can to support you, inviting you over or comeong over for meals, checking in on you every once in awhile, just trying his best to be aware of the feelings of others.

Silver: I think silver would be fascinated by it. He was allways fascinated by oddities in whatever differnt kind of fae he talked to, multiple sets of teeth, wings, horns, pointy teeth, whatever would make himself differ from the fae. He would be very respectful about it and be sure to research each Species or ask his father about it before asking the fae themself, as to not appear as to be rude. He asked Jamil about Kalims tattoos because he knows that if there was a gaurd or a retainer nearby, it's best to adress them about some things that may be rude culturally. So he knows what a tattoo is, and ends up asking you about yours. He apologizes that you have had to go trough such hardships and is glad that you are healing and are there for Malleus whenever he needs someone to be with that isn't one of them. He honestly respects you alot for it since Jamil told him that it's a bit of a painful process. He may ask some more about your world aswell because he is genuinely curious about the differences between the worlds and helps you as a fellow human who is very much lost in this new world

[feralbutfluffy]

45: Aziraphale

Chapter 45 of Too Wise to Woo Peaceably

*****

Well.

Well.

He hadn’t planned this. He hadn’t expected it. In fact, moments ago he had been fraught with tension about the consequence of his desires, and then…

'You’ve sinned, and sinned, and sinned again - still here though, still an angel - and now you’re frightened of… more sin.’

Really, when he’d put it like that, perhaps his trepidation was a small bit exaggerated. The words had blanketed his fear, muffling its roar to a bearable level, softening its jagged edges until he’d been able to think around it.

He had sinned. Many times. He had coveted and lied, he had disobeyed and now he had killed...

And in light of all that, lust had seemed, well, lesser. Lesser than lying to the Almighty. Lesser than taking a life.

It had felt so indulgently human to reach for Crowley. 

A fragment of his mind still clung fiercely to the old fear, refusing to relinquish something he had cleaved to for so long, and it was the distant sound of a siren, a low hum of warning telling him it was forbidden, immoral, wrong.

… Which somehow, perversely, made it better; the aching, twisted pain backlighting the pleasure of the moment, sharpening the contrast.

And so he’d put his hand to Crowley’s face, hoping he would understand what it meant. 

I care about you. 

I care about you. 

I care about you.

He cared enough about Crowley to ignore his fears, to show him he wasn’t alone in wanting this. He cared enough to take the risk and taste what he had been wanting, despite the force of it making him feel like he might possibly have collapsed in on himself like a dying star while he wasn’t looking and become nothing but a black hole of pure want trying to pull Crowley in.

This is what humans do, he’d thought, turning Crowley’s face towards him, and this is probably what demons do, he’d thought, running his thumb over the skin next to Crowley’s mouth, because it felt wicked. 

It felt wonderful.

And he had held Crowley’s face in his hands, and he had kissed him.

He had kissed him drawing on descriptions from novels he had read and never forgotten.

And Crowley had been so still, and Aziraphale had willed him to understand.

I care about you. 

I care about you. 

I care about you.

And Crowley had been so unyielding, and Aziraphale had wondered if he was too late.

I care about you. 

I care about you. 

I care about you.

And then he’d felt Crowley go slack, the rigid angles softening, his body coiling towards him, and he had been so tentative in his response, so cautious and restrained, that it had given Aziraphale the space to be bolder than he might otherwise have been. Really, it had practically forced his hand. Or his lips, rather.

And then he had felt Crowley smile against his mouth, and his tongue had flicked against his, and the sensation had shocked him, turning his whole body to liquid flame.

Which was its own shocking sensation.

He had pulled away then, distantly thinking that the air that rushed in to fill the space between them felt lonelier than it had before.

Silly.

And Crowley hadn’t moved. He was still pitched forward, heavy-lidded, with his fingers dug into the leather of the seat cushions so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t punctured them. He looked dazed, and his chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths he didn’t really need. 

Aziraphale blinked rapidly, trying to disperse the fog that seemed to have engulfed his brain. 

“Well!” he said.

Crowley tilted his head. 

Aziraphale looked around the bookshop before giving Crowley a relieved smile. “No smiting! It seems I can add lust to my growing tally of sins.”

Crowley raised his left eyebrow and leaned back slowly. “Oh, I’m not sure one innocent kiss really qualifies as a sin of lust, angel; bit too chaste, I’d wager.” His voice was husky.  “Certainly wouldn’t be enough to earn you a smiting.”

“Oh. Well.* Aziraphale straightened. “I suppose you would know.”

He wasn’t smiling, but there was amusement in Crowley’s eyes. “Naturally.”

“I’m sure you have plenty of experience with physical temptations under your belt, ripe for comparison,” he said, and he knew he sounded peevish but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Goes without saying,” he said, but Aziraphale thought he heard laughter in his voice.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Never.” 

It was still there. Definitely laughter. Aziraphale frowned at him.

“You’re being tremendously cavalier about this, Crowley.”

Crowley leaned his elbow on the sofa back and rested the side of his head against his knuckles. 

“I am having the most marvellous Thursday morning and I absolutely refuse to ruin it with overanalysis. I don’t think this day can be topped and it’s only-” he looked around at the grandfather clock and this time the amusement was written all over his face in the form of an enormous grin, “- six thirty!”

He said it as if it had some particular meaning.

“Muriel’s sure to get a kick out of that,” he said softly.

“Out of what?”

“The time. It’s- Never mind. Forget about it. Inside joke.”

“Ah.”

Crowley’s grin dropped and Aziraphale clasped his hands in his lap, staring down at them silently. They sat for a moment, both thinking of why inside jokes with Muriel even existed, both thinking of long months apart, both ultimately thinking of that day at the bookshop.

Crowley pulled the heel of his foot up onto the edge of the sofa, his bent knee creating a barrier between them. His incongruous fuzzy yellow sock drew Aziraphale’s eye, distractingly visible over the top of Crowley’s shoe. 

When he spoke, all trace of humour was gone.

“I couldn’t believe you left.”

Aziraphale could have sworn the temperature around them dropped by a few degrees.

“You said I was forgiven-”

“I know, and I meant it. I did. But I haven’t forgotten and… I don’t know, I just- How could you possibly think I would be happy about any of it? How could you of all people have thought I would ever want to go back there?”

Aziraphale’s shoulders tensed. “Well, clearly with the benefit of hindsight-”

“No. No no. You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to act as if my getting knocked about is the only-” A hiss of frustration. “You had more than enough hindsight to draw from! You knew how I felt. Why did you think I would-?”

“You were happy as an angel, Crowley!”

Crowley drew back as if burned. “That wasn’t me. I am not that angel. Even if I wanted to be - which I don’t - I could never be that again. Not ever.”

“Yes, but-”

Crowley leaned over and reached for the desk. He pushed off the corner to heave himself to standing. 

“I made my peace with it a long time ago. I do what I can. I try to do what’s right. I’ve found my own path. You’ve seen it. You’ve seen me. And you still-”  

One of his legs buckled slightly and Aziraphale almost stood, arms outstretched, before Crowley caught himself and braced on the surface of the desk with both hands.

“You still see me as one of the bad guys? Okay. Fine. So be it. Apparently six thousand years hasn’t been enough to convince you otherwise. You want me to be someone that doesn’t exist, Aziraphale; you’re looking at me and seeing a ghost.”

Aziraphale winced at the mention of his slip of the tongue. “Obviously when I said ‘you’re the bad guys’ I didn’t mean you specifically, Crowley.”

There was an uneasy quiet. “I wouldn’t say there was anything particularly obvious about that.”

Really, but he was impossible!

A tinge of irritation crept into Aziraphale’s voice, disguising the despair. “I don’t want you to change, I like you the way you are, thank you very much! It’s only that I remember you being so happy then - magnificently, incandescently happy - and I wanted that for you again. The idea of being able to give you that again…”

It had barely been five minutes since he had kissed Crowley and felt his mouth curl into a smile against his own. Now the former demon was giving him a guarded look and that same mouth was an unhappy line, one corner turned down.

“Right. Sure.” Crowley let his head fall back and sighed. “You already did that five minutes ago, you daft prat.”

And then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

[constancelangdon-thesupreme]

My lovely witches will hurt your bitches.

[snakegorl212006]

Journey begins

You awaken by a thump. Your googling eyes widen only to meet the wooden walls. You sigh as the thumping could’ve been some rock outside of the carriage. You gaze out the window board at the sight of the trees. “Are you awake you highness” a voice spoke once again surprising you. You whipped your head around to see a well dressed man with a raven mask and a top mask. His cape was adorned by feathers. He smiled kindly “Forgive my intrusion. I understand you must be exhausted. It is a long ways away from the kingdom of the royal swords and Ramshackle but I must ask if you can do me a favor. I swear you will be rewarded generously” the crow asked “you ask for a favor yet i know not of your name” you replied still stunned from his quiet entrance “Ah right where are my manors. You may call me Crowley, your highness. I’m king of Night raven. ” He introduce “well.. Crowely. What is this favor you wish for me to do” You asked “simply. The creatures are out of control.They don’t listen to reason as of late.” Crowely stated “the kingdoms grow more impatient and i don’t have any answers on why everything is in chaos.” he sighs “what do you want me to do about it” you asked “simple go check it out and solve the problem if needed then report back to me from here” he explained as he gives me a mirror “I don’t have magic” I explained “oh i see. This makes things harder now. Well just report using someone else's magic. I’m counting on you your highness,help save night raven” Crowly smiles before teleporting off again. Once he was gone the mirror lit up and showed directions to the castle within the queendom of roses, the region you're in at the moment. Lucky for that bird your first stop is in the capital. You place the mirror around your neck using a piece of string you happened to have. The rest of the ride was calm and you managed to go to your destination safely. The kingdom is bustling with people as busy as most major cities. You place your hoodie up and stroll through the town listening to the latest gossip. Nothing of importance to you. That is until you saw a crowd “A fire!? That’s horrible” a women spoke “who ever tarnish those lands my already have lost there heads… if the queen hasn't gotten to them” a man adds. Drawn to the chatter you merge yourself though the crowd to see the new board were at the bottom were papers of current events and additional rules being added by the parliament here. The headline read “red fires within red roses.” you took a page and skimmed through the first chapters

Three days ago, fires rag'd the did rise f'rest, coequal spreading to the queen’s precious did rise hedges. ”this violation of ruleth 300 is unexceptable!!!” the lady states in h'r addresseth inrage on what hast hath happened to h'r precious landeth the queen hath sent f'rth a reward f'r anyone who is't couldst catcheth these criminals so they’ll beest putteth to justice by the queen h'rself

“With how high people speak of the queen, why has no one offered to find these people” you wondered “the Rose woods of Heartslabyul recently has a surge of monsters as of late” a voice spoke. You look to see a young man with orange hair and a diamond on his cheek underneath his eye “the fires triggered some after effects and enraged the guardian on those lands. Anyone who enters to investigate never returned” He adds “You must be new sense it’s common knowledge here” he smiled “oh umm ya. I just came off of a ride. I’m (y/n)” you introduced “Cater diamond, that’s my company's newspaper you’re holding” Cater replied “oh did you make this yourself” You asked “no just provide the info. What’s got an outsider so interested in our case” Cater asked “well I just felt like I needed to provide aid. Like the stories, if everyone is scared of these lands and someone has to solve the problem.Why not be the one who solves the problem ya’ know” you replied which made the young reporter think “I guess so. I hope you’re a person of your word” He winks “well I didn’t mean to trouble you, I shall be on my way. Any lead is a good one these days” Cater stated before leaving. ‘The forest has to be the rout of the problem so might as well check it out there first’ you thought. Using this revelation you made your way out of the crowd and towards the woods. On the way you spot something in the alleyway.there in the alley was a cat creature. Weak and hungry. Feeling pitiful for the creature, you stopped by the local market and bought a fish to bring for the cat. When you made it back to the location,with the cat still laying there, you presented the fish to him. The cat sprung up and snatched the fish from your grasp “thank you human” he spoke which shocked you “a talking cat�� you exclaimed “a cat!? DO i LOOk like a cat to you” He huffed. Upon closer inspection this ‘cat’ has flames for ears and a tail with scales all over with a blue flame on the tip. Other then that, he looks like a average cat “kinda..” you mumbled “what is your name anyways” you asked “the greatest and most gifted mage grim, now who are you? I never seen a thing like you before. Are you a elf” grim asked as he walked around you (“y/n) of the (l/n) family. I’m (prince/princess/random royalty status) of ramshackle” you replied which made his eyes widen “You!? Well if you feel extra civerish can i accompany you” grim asked sweetly “and why would you want to tang along with me” you asked “i mean you and I would be great partners so, what do you say”

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

eternal youth is overrated - a good omens one shot

Summary: Heartbreak and loneliness have left Crowley marked in more ways than one. Aziraphale helps him see that this isn’t such a bad thing.

NOTES: I’ve always had a bit of a bittersweet fascination with aging (David Tennant’s crows’ feet make me emo in ways I cannot hope to describe), with the sadness but also the beauty inherent in it, and I thought it could be interesting to bring this idea to good omens. The concept was “what if Crowley started getting grey hairs after Aziraphale leaves, if, over time, his physical appearance subconsciously changed to reflect his mental state?” The fact that I wrote this as a 19 year old honestly just shows how much I need therapy, but it was honestly incredibly cathartic to work through some of my own mental struggles via Crowley in this fic. Aziraphale’s pov was equally fun to write, as I basically just got to write how he feels about Crowley based on what I feel about David (lol). Hope you enjoy my first Good Omens one shot- I may or may not make an A03 account if it gets enough engagement, I’m honestly pretty proud of it! Special thanks to my wonderful partner in crime @flyingfluse for providing some much needed inspiration!

PS: The title is actually from a song I wrote called Grow Old With Me (hopefully will be available someday fingers crossed)

——————

It had been a year.

Nothing to a demon, really. In the vast expanse of six thousand years on earth, not to mention the innumerable eons Before The Beginning, a year didn’t count for much more than a blip. But heartbreak is a funny thing. Time, for Crowley, now seemed to pass in a much more human fashion- the year that had elapsed since Aziraphale’s return to heaven, a year devoid of anything resembling laughter or joy, a year spent largely either sleeping or stewing in self-loathing, had seemed longer than the past hundred combined.

Crowley’s gaze blearily wandered to the rearview mirror of the Bentley. His reflection, as everything seemed to these days, mocked him.

Those sickly yellow eyes, reminding him of all he was and all that he could never be, like the sulfur he had been cast into all those millenia ago. On his worst days, it was like he could still feel it, eating away at him from the inside out, decaying his soul and with it, his body. It carved shadows into his cheeks and circles beneath his eyes, deep and dark as caverns. It rose in his throat until he choked on it, leaving his voice hoarse and acrid. It spewed out of him onto everything and everyone, every time he opened his mouth, an acidic bile of rage and bitterness.

He had been destroyed and rebuilt over and over through the millenia, and the product was a rough, hardened callus of a being, like a patch of skin that had been picked at too many times. He felt grotesque, untouchable, damaged- there would be no point to pursuing any new connections when no one would understand, nor why would they want to, when he seemed to turn everything he held to ashes? 

A ray of sunlight leaked through the window of the Bentley, catching upon Crowley’s hair, revealing it to be littered with strands of grey, collecting dust-like in his copper mane. How the mighty have fallen, he thought bitterly. Falling, always falling, like leaves in autumn, their color draining as their forms grow brittle and they become one with the earth. From dust they were made, and to dust, they shall return.

Perhaps in a year, he would be dust too. What would he care?

Demons didn’t naturally age, or so he had thought. But loneliness seemed to have made a mortal out of Crowley, centuries of it crashing down upon his corporation, wearing it to the bones, etching his torment into his skin. He could always just miracle any part of himself back to the way it was, reverse all this damned erosion… but what would it matter? Why even try to keep his hair from losing its color when all the color had drained from his life the second his angel had left it?

He felt so, so old.

A single, desperate sob escaped Crowley’s mouth, cracking out of him like splintering firewood.

As he weeped against the steering wheel, the Bentley switched on its radio in sympathy. 

I’ve walked too long in this lonely lane,

I’ve had enough of this same old game.

I’m a man of the world, they say that I’m strong,

But my heart is heavy and my hope is gone.

-----------------

    The demon lay curled in Aziraphale’s lap, clinging to his chest as a snake might in search of warmth. It clutched at Aziraphale’s soul to see Crowley this vulnerable, the swaggering and smirking stripped away to reveal a heart in desperate need of care and healing- a task Aziraphale considered his greatest duty and greatest pleasure, for he knew Crowley would do the same for him. 

    Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, earning a deep sigh from his beloved, whose brows turned up in fragile, stirring comfort. He loved doing this, both to see how much his touch moved Crowley and because he simply loved his hair itself. Bold, striking, an instant head-turner, just like everything else about him. It was now the longest it had been since biblical times, falling in elegant waves past his shoulders. But oh, something else was different… it was streaked now with rivers of silver, gathering in deltas at his temples. It lit a familiar flame in Aziraphale’s chest; that bittersweet blend of desire and sympathy.

    “You’ve changed your hair, I see”, he said softly. 

     Crowley takes a labored swallow, strain and self consciousness seeping into his face. Whatever he says next, it’s clear that the admission is going to cost him.

     “When you left, I suppose I… let myself wither away.” His voice is lodged deep in his throat, thick and murky, leaking out of him like tar, a sound from the depths of his own personal hell. “Oh, Aziraphale…” he exhales, and it’s one of the most poignant Aziraphale has ever heard.  “I’m so tired. So worn down. So bloody ancient.”

      “So am I, my dear,” he says, trying to come across more soothing than concerned.

     “Yes, but you still shine in the same way you did all those millenia ago… still so bright, so soft.  I’m all tarnished and rusted up… I don’t know how you still want to touch me.”

     Aziraphale gazed down into Crowley’s eyes, piercing and pleading and fragile, like shattered stained glass. At his craggy, rough-hewn cheeks, all bones and edges he’d happily cut himself on to caress. At the deep, deep lines around his eyes, carved there by every grin and grimace and longing and ache. And oh, the silver in his hair… it suited him so, both rejecting and combining black and white with a color all his own. It wasn’t normal for immortal bodies, ethereal or occult, to bear the marks of time and experience as Crowley’s has. But then, Crowley was never an ordinary demon, or angel, was he? No, he was something far more exquisite. 

    “Oh, but I do… I  do…” Affection surges through Aziraphale as he kisses every crease and wrinkle, every scar and every glorious grey, every sign that his dear Crowley has lived. He feels Crowley’s hands winding through his hair in response and kisses those too, those eloquent, spindly fingers and calloused palms…

   “Crowley, my most cherished books… the covers are peeling, the pages are torn or yellowed with age… so why would you be any different?” His heart seizes up, his voice breaking a bit. “I have seen the fire and rain rage within you for so long, and I have seen the marks they have left upon you, and each one is precious to me. You know how I love to read… Why would I not want to see the story of my beloved written upon their face? My 

dear old serpent, my survivor…you don’t have to fight anymore…”

     He pulls Crowley tightly to his chest, drawing the tension from his shoulders and back before cupping the sides of his face as Crowley stares back, looking overwhelmed and old and so, so beautiful. “I want you exactly as you are. Rough and hard and frayed at the edges… you will never be too much of any of these things for me. In fact…” A slightly wicked twinkle forms in his eye as he smiles pointedly at Crowley: “They make you more tempting to me than ever.”

    Crowley processes this for a moment. “Well…” he croaks out, that hint of playful snark finding its way back into his throaty timbre, “I suppose there is something to be said for… shades of grey.” Aziraphale laughs, remembering the words he himself said to Crowley all those years ago, on the same night he realized just how much he adored him.

   Crowley smiles, that crooked, twisted, perfectly imperfect smile that Aziraphale missed, his eyes crinkling magnificently at the corners. “Kiss me,” he whispers, and Aziraphale is happy to oblige. Happy that Crowley, bold, fierce, independent Crowley, could finally let his guard down, could finally embrace that all of his scars and imperfections, every mark of time upon his face, everything he ever thought made him damaged and ugly only made him more beautiful in his sight.

[ezool]

[twst talk rant???]

i know that fanon characterization is inevitable in any fanbase, i just think it's funny how Trey got affected by it in twst.

whenever im scrolling through the twst tag and there's those "what these boys would do for an s/o that _____" or whatever, and sometimes i see Trey being written like "oh if y/n had a stressful day, Trey would have a hot bath all ready to go and will give you a back and shoulder massage and he'll do this and that and so on and so forth and you'll have your favorite pastry/baked good ready for you" or something.

another would be like "if you had a lot of chores to do, and lots of errands to run, he'll do them all with you and then ask if there's anything else he can do to help and he'll even wash all your dishes and--" like?? hm?? are we reading the same Trey Clover here?

[damn this post go so much longer than i expected. im not even a trey fan, i guess i just had a lot to talk about on the subject lmao]

like, i get that he's one of the more normal guys in the cast, and from that i think writers try to have a more domestic approach with those Trey x reader things. but i think it misses a big point about Trey as his canon writing goes (or maybe it really is just my personal read of it)

The following is me going over various vignettes: [tldr at the end]

his PE uniform vignette (literally titled "Nailing the Bare Minimum") has him preparing for a flight exam (so he has his broom at the ready), and he's watching Kalim in the sky about to fall off his rowdy carpet and some mob student says, "oh no! who can save him?! oh, Trey! you have your broom!"

Trey: "and...?" Mob: "w-well, Kalim's in need of help, so--" Trey: "and this involves me... how?"

he's eventually convinced and goes to save Kalim, and coincidentally the things he had to do to ensure Kalim's safety was impressive enough to Vargas to count that as Trey's performance for the exam and passes him.

a couple other vignettes (Jamil's dorm uniform and Ruggie's labwear) shows that Trey isn't a generous, altruistic giver. Jamil asks Trey for some help with making food for an impromptu banquet for Crowley, and Trey agreed to help so long as Jamil agreed to prune all the rose bushes at his dorm. Like. that's a LOT of rose bushes, just to help with cooking. Jamil even admits in his inner thoughts how he clearly got the short end of the stick and that Trey took advantage of his situation.

when Trey hears that Ruggie needs laundry detergent, he offers 1 free load's worth of his on the condition he helps with an errand. Ruggie agrees, thinking it's a steal, until they arrive at Heartslabyul and finds out the errands was to paint the roses red.

in Trey's labwear vignette, he admits that he doesn't grow his own strawberries for the tarts he makes out of the goodness of his heart, but moreso he can be assured that he has strawberries at the ready when a tart is in need of calming Riddle down. it's why it didn't make much of a difference whether the tart at the unbirthday party was made by him, or from the famous pastry shop that Jade promised in return of using Trey's homegrown strawberries.

in Ace's school uniform vignette, Trey picks up pretty quickly that Ace is up to something when he offers to help Trey carry some things back to their dorm. Despite knowing something's up, Trey still allows Ace to help be then he quite literally is carrying a lighter load of his errands.

he's not an altruistic giver, nor is he a pushover. in fact, in Jade's Ceremonial Robes vignette, Trey's advice to Jade is "hey, if you don't want to do something, speak your mind and put your foot down."

on top of that, he's very non-confrontational (not just the Riddle situation), but im mostly talking about how if there's a situation that he foresees escalating, he will avoid it. he literally hides off to the side to avoid being noticed and roped into the trouble.

in that same Jade Ceremonial Robes vignette, the whole reason Trey is even talking with Jade is bc he had a feeling that Riddle would go to Jade to tell Jade to rein Floyd in of his antics. yet when Riddle was chewing Jade out, Trey stood back rather than intervening in the first place. He even apologizes to Jade after about not stepping in.

another instance of saving his own skin and avoiding conflict is in Deuce's Stargazer vignette. two mob characters are making fun of the effort that Deuce is putting in to improve his dance routine for the ceremony. they're making fun of him and he says "say all you want about me, but how DARE you insult Trey!" and Trey says to himself "i was trying to blend into the background." and it's described that he was hiding behind a pillar. the mob characters, upon realizing they were insulting an upperclassman, apologize and runs off. which means, given his superiority, Trey could have easily stopped the guys from insulting his first year Deuce just by being more present or stepping in sooner. instead, he just let Deuce take the insults thrown at him. (luckily, we know that Deuce being Deuce can take it).

this doesn't even mention how Trey is also a petty grudge holder (Dorm Uniform) and a freak for dental hygiene (School uniform) but this post is long enough as it is.

---

TLDR: Trey works smarter, not harder. he works to avoid problems later down the line. if he sees problems now, he avoids them. he will only do the bare minimum to coast by. he will rope people into doing part of his work, but he will do what he can to avoid getting roped into other peoples' work. literally two of his smiling sprite emotes is him smiling with furrowed, strained brows, like a customer service smile to avoid agitating someone into escalating a situation (one emote has him gritting his teeth he is hanging on by a thread).

so what's the point of this post? i have no fucking clue. im not even a Trey fan, im completely indifferent to him as a character in the cast. but something that i appreciate about twst is that all the characters are a little fucked up! even the more "normal" ones have these sorts of red flags about them, and it makes them all the more interesting to see interacting with the other characters in the cast.

like, i know that fanon trey x reader stuff is all make believe to have fun, and this is far from me yucking anyone's yum. i just think it's interesting how morphed his character was changed into The Perfect Domestic House Husband type despite all these red flags that could make a relationship with him pretty difficult if it's not addressed (in an irl situation i mean).

anyways, that's all. dont forget to floss!

----

edit: oh @lesbiantreyclover made a really excellent point!! about how this post is shallow in the analysis department. honestly this was never meant to be a full blown analysis on Trey, but mostly just taking the time to point out parts of his character that often doesn't get utilized in those trey x reader things. and it happens so much so that the trey featured in those "x reader" posts just seem very detached to the Trey in the canon seen in vignettes.

this was mostly just a rant, as stated at the very beginning, and wasn't really meant to be anything more than that because i don't know much else about trey (again, im completely indifferent about him as a character). so im sorry if this post came off antagonistic.

and maybe bc i don't seek out Trey content to begin with, i wasn't aware that these are common talking points within his fanbase, so i apologize for any redundancy here.

again, i never wanted to yuck anyone's yum, i just wanted to point out an observation i made about general fanon interpretation compared to the vignettes. lesbiantreyclover also made a really great point of describing trey as "attentive to a fault"

like maybe in a romantic relationship Trey will do things for his partner to avoid problems with his s/o but if those dont work, his non-confrontational and avoidant habits will keep him from talking about whatever issues might be simmering underneath the relationship.

i guess that was the sort of thing i was implying when i said "despite all these red flags that could make a relationship with him pretty difficult if it's not addressed (in an irl situation i mean)" at the very end, but i wasn't sure how to word it well. lesbiantreyclover put it well, so thank you for your input! 😊👍

--

edit: someone apparently swore off twstblr bc of this post mentioning the "freak for dental hygiene" bit.

like, i understand perfectly that his family owning a pastry shop would then encourage good teeth brushing discipline, but even the other characters think his interest in teeth cleaning is a little much.

the 4koma even has it's own ribbing of it

and trey's tsum groovy is literally him and his tsum self coming at you with a tooth brush

like, do what you want with how you interact with social media fandom spaces, but i think calling us "stupid" was overkill for something as innocuous as this, don't you think?

[aboardthescheherazade]

Inspired by @professorcalculusstanaccount's timeline posts, it's Roberto Rastapopoulos through the years! No little Greek boy don't grow up to be a massive shithead--

Rasta is a very difficult character to understand in canon, because so much of his lore is left unknown to the viewer. However, there were little bits and pieces, some in Herge's tertiary studio notes; over time I've wrung some water from that stone, and put together this timeline in my head. I went with a more condensed range than ProfCal (i.e. pre-canon up to canon, rather than into post-canon), since Rob does technically "die"/disappear by the end of the (finished) comics.

Headcanons and details under the cut:

According to speculative official notes, he was born in the 1890s in Leros. It's a beautiful island but also one with a turbulent history, as when little Roberto was born, that part of Greece was under control by the Ottoman Empire. His father was a sponge diver, which was a very viable career at the time. (Decades later, the industry would be ruined when the area's sea sponges were over-harvested by bigger diving operations.) His mother is basically unknown...many official outlets say Rastapopoulos is part American, so I imagine his mother was of Greek-American heritage who either met his father abroad or in America.

There were two real-world figures who influenced my timeline: Aristote Onassis and Aleister Crowley. Onassis was one of Herge's later inspirations when writing Rastapopoulos, and for good reason; much like Rastapopoulos's own immoral dealings, Onassis indiscriminately sold warships during WWII and can easily be considered an arms dealer who profited off of human atrocities. On the other hand, Aleister Crowley was my own connection. All the pseudo-Egyptian mysticism in Cigars of the Pharaoh and the Kih-Oskh Brotherhood seems to be a reference to the very real trend in the early 20th Century where the upper crust of western society became fascinated with esoteric beliefs. (Seances and the Ouija Board were also created during this era.) Crowley rose in infamy during this time, too, as a spoiled debutante who spent his inheritance on journeys through the MENA region to perform rituals and "adapt" Eastern religions for his own belief system. With Rastapopoulos making up an entire pharaoh and emblem for his secret trafficking club, it reminded me very much of Crowley's own endeavours, and the commodification of MENA cultures and iconography during this era.

Child (1897) - Canonically, he has three brothers and two sisters, so l envisioned him as the middle child amidst all that. Little Roberto was spoiled when he was little, but when his youngest brother was born, it left Roberto feeling like the attention had been stolen from him.

15 (1906)- The other siblings hoped Roberto would be just as enthusiastic as they were about the family diving business, but alas, he'd always been more interested in reading prose and classical plays. His favourite play is Gounod's Faust. Some days, he daydreams about what a deal with the devil could get him, thinking he'd be able to outsmart the devil and win his riches for free. Roberto was at a rebellious point in his life, and sadly, he'd come to be ashamed of his background, deciding sponge diving was "peasant work" and that he'd rather tell others he was British or American. Eventually, it became easier for the whole family to just send him to a boarding school. Deep down, Roberto's parents hoped he might become an actor, a writer, or some sort of scholar...but the night before he left, Roberto secretly took down his whole family's banking information.

20s (1910s) - Roberto is now in his "Aleister Crowley's world tour" phase. He throws around mysteriously large quantities of money, often putting it into investments, and taking many journeys through Egypt and India. (I also like to imagine he met the Fakir and Colonel Fuad around this time; maybe Zloty too). Rastapopoulos is an insufferable, preening dandy at this time, trying to carve out his own place among the societal elite. His Greek identity is only flaunted as a way to make him seem more "exotic" to strangers. He tries not to think about the bank accounts he's leeching from.

30s (1920s) - Several of his investments actually flourished. His shares in Arab-Air and Flor Fina yield enough profit to let him buy out the companies, and his decadence only increases as he reaps even more profits. With extra money going around, Rastapopoulos finally decides to foray into the movie industry...as a movie producer. His passion for theatre never died, and if he can't become an actor himself, then why not produce the kinds of stories he wanted to be in? By the time the Great Depression hits, Rastapopoulos has amassed more than enough wealth to stay afloat...and the drug ring he's started with a few good friends sure helps, too. He's more concerned with holding onto every millimetre of his receding hairline.

40s (canon) - By all means, Rastapopoulos could have disbanded the cartel and retired comfortably. Maybe he could have invested more in his own movies, and focused more on Cosmos Pictures's internal operations. And yet, he didn't. Bigger numbers are better, so Rastapopoulos kept amassing his dirty money, thinking he was too big to fall. He got messy and left behind some viable clues, which some Belgian kid happened to stumble across...

50s (1940s-early 50s)- "Roberto Rastapopoulos" may be out on bail and facing decades in prison, but "Marquis Dante di Gorgonzola" is just some mysterious financier with an offshore bank account. Some of the other societal elites recognize him, but they find the alter ego funny and play along; "Oh, here comes "the marquis"...! He's due back in Hong Kong!" He can't make money through drug trafficking anymore, he can't show his face in Hollywood, and he certainly can't go back to Greece. Unfortunately, some of his associates introduce him to a different kind of trafficking, one even more immoral, but just as lucrative... It's the climax of the Rastapopoulos family tragedy: the son of hard-working commoners has ground his family's name into dust thanks to his pursuit of power and decadence; he has now resorted to deceiving those same sorts of commoners, dooming them to unknown fates just so he can buy a boat. Later, he begins resorting to harebrained schemes and petty crime just to maintain that lifestyle. His Greek identity has long been buried in favour of a vague, exotic cultural identity meant to explain away his quirks and twitchiness.

I've long been torn on whether or not Endaddine Akass is Rastapopoulos's final form. Herge's notes do consider him surviving Flight 714 to Sydney by waking up in the tropics with some degree of amnesia...perhaps this is near Jamaica, where he'll meet Ramo Nash under a new identity. It also feels the most theatrical - Rastapopoulos is playing yet another role, and he has a grand finale planned for Tintin's murder. Additionally, the mysticism Akass totes in Alph-Art is inspired by the alternative religion fads of the 1960s-70s; Akass is evocative of some of those many cult leaders, like Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh or Father Yod.

And yet, I almost find it more fitting for Rastapopoulos to survive Flight 714 to Sydney with full amnesia. He only knows himself as some middle-aged vagrant, and he decides he just has to pick himself up, and find some odd jobs to make a living. He gives himself a new name; his family history has been wiped clean. He struggles to make ends meet, much like the family he bankrupted, though he'll never know just how ironic his life has become. The rest of the world knows Rastapopoulos as a bombastic, flashy debutante who died a pitiful death during a police standoff. Tintin feels like he saw him one last time, but it feels like a bad dream he had during a flight layover. The man who always wanted to be the biggest and best died quietly in the sea, his true fate unknown, his body forever missing.

I think that's why I find Rastapopoulos so fascinating as a character! You can either make him into Tintin's greatest scourge who fights to the death to maintain his status, or you can rip all that away and doom him to a humble existence.