#crowley: never notices human beauty

[soughtknowledge]

@godpyre liked for a starter !

HIS HEAD lifts and his nose twitches . the smell is followed with bright yellow eyes hidden behind deep black sunglasses , until they land on a figure . a beautiful figure , even crowley can tell , and she's usually not particularly good at that with humans . but he looks like a statue , a painting , the art of times past , art created and revered that crowley misses dearly with every passing century . and here are those paintings made flesh .

but it wasn't the beauty that initially drew the demon . it was the SMELL . something off , too clean , too metallic . something not human . against every usual practice of the demon named crowley , she makes her way over .

[fuckyeahisawthat]

on switching places

So I’m sure you have noticed that during the whole end of episode 6 there is this beautiful bright light coming in the bookshop windows. From the east. Because it’s morning.

(Even if we didn’t know what time of day it was, we know what direction the light is coming from, because these windows are right above Aziraphale’s desk, which faces east.)

And after Crowley leaves the bookshop, he goes across the street, and Aziraphale keeps glancing toward the door and window, looking over at Crowley, hoping he’ll come back. (He always comes back.) The blocking in the scene with the Metatron, the one where Aziraphale almost decides to stay, is set up so that he’s looking the wrong way, toward the windows on his right instead of to his left, where Crowley should be. (And, when he seems closest to saying no, he steps back, right to the edge of that beam of light that almost seems like it’s from Crowley.) And we know that their blocking stays reversed (Crowley screen left, Aziraphale screen right) for the rest of the episode.

But also, Aziraphale is looking east. To what is normally his position, as guardian of the eastern gate.

Which got me thinking. What if they have switched places? Not literally in a bodyswap sense, but metaphorically in terms of their relationship to humanity.

They’re the serpent and the sword, right? Those Biblical symbols are already subverted in the story of Good Omens. The sword is something given to humans for their protection, not something meant to be used against them, to keep them out of paradise. (And in the world of Good Omens, leaving Eden looks a whole lot like escaping.) And the apple is framed as a positive symbol too. It’s knowledge, questions asked and answered, the ability to make your own choices. It’s freedom.

So what if they’ve switched roles, and by the end of season 2 Crowley has taken up Aziraphale’s position as the protector of humanity (as we saw him do with individual humans many times this season). We all know Crowley won’t actually be able to abandon humanity and the Earth when the chips are down. I think it’s highly likely that some part of season 3 will feature Crowley on the side of humanity against Heaven, probably in what he considers at that point to be a suicide mission, but he can’t just walk away.

And then what if, in season 3, we see Aziraphale take up whatever the equivalent of Crowley’s position would be in that plotline, as the character who grants freedom and choice to humanity in some way. (By freeing Earth from Heaven and Hell’s power? By figuring out how to give humans the choice to interact with angels and demons only if they want to? I don’t know exactly how this would play out, but it’s a fascinating idea to poke at.)

Of course I think they will ultimately end up working together and whatever happens will require their combined power, but I think it would be amazing if we saw this kind of role reversal. And it would fit with their character arcs: Crowley being the one who is ready to stand and fight even when it looks hopeless, and Aziraphale being the one who gives humanity the power to question, challenge and disobey Heaven.

Protection and freedom—those are their gifts to humanity. (The Bible might call it temptation, but there never was an apple that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.) And it turns out that those are the exact same things Aziraphale and Crowley need for themselves. You can’t have one without the other. “Protection” without freedom is just control, and freedom without the ability to defend itself gets crushed by the forces that don’t want it to exist. And so their fates are tied to humanity, as they were from the beginning. And maybe humanity will be able to give them the same gifts in return.

[absolutelymarshmallow]

This is my favourite scene in the show

I never noticed how complex Crowley’s outfit is in this scene. There’s red embroidery, a black sash. The rob itself is supposed to be rough, heavy, grey.

However, in the first scene in the show, Aziraphale’s robes are light, white, cotton, gold embroidered, and two-pieced. A poncho, and a skirt. His outfit is supposed to look generic, like an angel uniform. Heaven adopted this odd, manufactured, cold neatness after the fall. 

Crowley’s outfit after the fall is more like a dress. It’s being held together by the black sash. It also looks more fitted to his body, and this makes me suspect that he made this himself. The Color scheme is also fitting to his hair.

Crowley had always been naturally dramatic, everyone knows that. However, I think this is his first minor ‘fuck you’ to hell. The heaven Color scheme is grey, white, tan, gold, and primarily purple. However, before, it was primarily gold and white. Aziraphale has ways opted for golds and whites as well, but he also has a love for browns and blues. This is how you know it’s a heaven uniform.

Hell’s color scheme in the beginning is yet to be observed but it’s probably not grey, black, and red. Those are all Crowley’s colors.

He’s been separating himself from hell since the very beginning. I say *first* ‘fuck-you’ because he had been wearing these robes before he gave humans the apple: an accidental good deed, the original good-natured rebellion.

Aziraphale has been accidentally doing ‘bad’ (or minorly negative) things since the beginning as well. He got caught up trying to save an angel, he gave away a sword, and most importantly he the concept invented war and weaponry in the human history.

I think this scene’s importance gets lost on a lot of people.

Aziraphale shielding Crowley is also very, very important, no matter how adorable. He, at this point, remembers Crowley. He looks guilty, nervous even, when he sees him slither up to him. Not just because he’s a snake, but you can see there’s something small and personal that he’s trying his best to hide. I think he knows.

Then, he learns his name for the first time, it just happens to be his demonic one. He never mentions his angel name, *never*, because he doesn’t know it. But more importantly, he doesn’t want to offend Crowley.

And yet they have a meaningful conversation, which is !also! very important. The first time he meets him as an angel,  Aziraphale looks like he’s flustered and smitten. He fell first, literally and figuratively. However,  Crowley isn’t at all interested in making conversation with this angel. He’s just excitedly talking about stars. Which, I admit, is adorable, but it wasn’t in any way of meaning other than that’s when they met.

Aziraphale realises how this *new* first, important conversation is utterly vital, in their relationship. Crowley is interested in Aziraphale, and he *does not remember him* at *all*. To Crowley, he’s lost all his memories now, which he regains later over a few millennia. I suspect, he’s regained all his memories by the book of Job, which is why he acts how he does.

Crowley falls in love immediately. Angels, fallen or otherwise, have shown him nothing but disrespect since he fell. And here’s this Angel trying to help him. Aziraphale indeed has guilt, but seeing someone he knew like this, wiped clean and ‘disfigured’ (or, beautiful), makes him realise what the fall actually *was*.

Just think.

An innocent star maker. And now he sees Crowley, the *real* Crowley. He’s witty, and fun, and outward. He’s making conversation, he’s comforting, he’s sarcastic.

He’s a real being.

And how neat.

So, he holds on. He shields him. Like he was shielded before, equally innocent and new to the universe, as Crowley’s now new to earth.

He sees himself.

Aziraphale is a lot more mature with how he treats Crowley in the beginning than people realise, but he loses that later once they start forming their own side, also in the book of Job.

Emotions are complicated. I know I’ve been talking for a long time, but I think it’s neat is all.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt VI good omens s1e2, a totally all-inclusive summary i remember everything

i don't, that's a lie. i lie like aziraphale, rarely and badly but with great gaslight energy.

alright well let's not dawdle for 6000 years, i'll forget what i DO remember.

An angel named Gabriel who is not Jimbriel yet, so a foetus Jimbriel, gets into Aziraphale's bookstore and yells about pornography to keep humans from following him into Aziraphale's secret back chamber.

What they do there, I do not know. It is up to speculation. They talk and Aziraphale is flustered about Crowley, I think, but that's the whole show so far.

The intro sequence remains strange. Cartoon Aziraphale is an impregnated chicken, cartoon Crowley is the baby daddy.

There are witch hunters and they want to burn Agnes Nutter alive. I don't know who Anges Nutter is yet.

We cut to Agnes Nutter and I know I will never forget her. She is beautiful and a BAMF. A MILF. An absolute bombshell.

The bombshell part is literal. They set her on fire and she explodes, killing all those in a 100 metre radius. I want to be her.

I assume it is a witch thing, but then find out she put bombs under her skirts. I want to be her, but more ardently.

There is a book. She writes prophecies in it.

There are horsemen of the apocalypse, which I forgot was still happening. We are in present day.

War kills everyone. She is pretty. She is not Warlock, the kid whom Aziraphale and Crowley raised.

Famine is a sexy beast, and runs Michelin star restaurants. He likes tiny food. He is developing foodless food.

If there are others, I do not notice. There could be. There really could be. There probably are.

There is a girl who scribbles on the book from earlier. She grows up. I think she is War. I am wrong. This is probably a good time to mention to Tumblr that I have mild issues with facial recognition, which is totally not going to affect my understanding of what is happening at all.

She is named Anathema. That could be someone else. What is real? Not Neil Gaiman.

She finds the Antichrist and the Them, and they are all playing at a witch hunt. The Antichrist does not have an aura. Yellow is fear. Yellow is joy. I lose track of what is happening for several scenes.

Newt is works in an office. There is a power cut. Newt no longer works at an office.

Newt joins a witch hunt.

There is a delivery man. I think he is Newt. I am wrong. His name is something resembling Judy. It is an easy mistake, everyone's reaction to not-Newt-maybe-Judy is the same as that to Newt, deep protective love.

Crowley and Aziraphale steal a Bentley. Find a Bentley? I am unsure. I am too busy looking at Crowley.

Crowley speeds. Crowley likes speeding. They hit a motorbike that has maybe-Anathema. They pick her up and take her to a house somewhere. The Bentley plays Queen music. Everyone is very excited about this. Beepop.

Maybe-Anathema enters the house. This could have been before she finds the Antichrist. But if the show isn't linear I don't have to be either, I decide.

Crowley and Aziraphale panic a lot, but find time to eye each other hungrily and lovingly. They have priorities, and I respect that.

Crowley yells at his plants to grow better. He pretends to kill one of them. I cannot believe I was entirely right about my interpretation of that GIF. I am filled with confused anger. Later I find out that he is projecting how heaven told him he was a disappointment and threw him out. I am no longer angry. I am sad. This is an ongoing thing when it comes to Crowley.

A major plot point is Dog, the best friend of the Antichrist, having a face off with a fat tabby cat. Dog loses. It was doomed from the start.

Aziraphale gaslights gatekeeps and girlbosses. He assures heaven that everything is under control. It is not. That is okay. I think.

Heaven asks about Crowley. Aziraphale gets flustered. This is as per usual and he assures them that he is battling Crowley, who keeps him on his toes. I not-so-privately think that Crowley keeps him on his knees, really.

Things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Aziraphale's puppy eyes. He is a bitchy sweetheart. I love him.

More things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Crowley's sexy hips and shoulders and, well, everything.

The episode ends. I am still thinking about Crowley. I am always thinking about Crowley. Everyone is always thinking about Crowley.

This... this is all I remember. Have it, Tumblr.

[biceratops7]

Not to rot everyone's swiss cheese brains further,

but Aziraphale was throwing that ball for Crowley. No seriously, he was throwing that ball for Crowley.

We all got so distracted by the cheeky little "Wait and See" that we never stopped to think about what it actually means. Cause at first glance it makes no damn sense. "Wait and see" ...for what? The big ridiculous Jane Austen ball Crowley already knows is happening?

Look at the way he ushers Crowley away here. Why?? Wouldn't it make more sense if Crowley was included in the planning of this event he's fully aware of and is the result of a fuck up he's exactly half responsible for?

The reason is simple, it's because the chance to try and do something romantic for once just fell into Aziraphale's lap. At some point very early on he realized that this damn ball can finally... finally be the precisely right time, and precisely right place. And above all, safe. An "independent embassy", as he so proudly states later on. 6,000 years of hiding what's clearly a blossoming relationship under the threat of harm to both of you takes a massive toll. He doesn't really get to bridge that gap whenever he's ready. After all they've been through and how many times they almost lost each other, Aziraphale wouldn't dare do something like this without a plausible excuse. He won't put Crowley in danger, even if its to show he loves him.

So then that leaves Aziraphale with very little options, but he's doing all he can to make the best of the rare opportunities they do have. Some celebratory wine, a fond glance over some candle light (pfft, for the war effort, of course! As an angel it's his duty to set a good example on how to conduct one's self in a blitz, Obviously), etc. He doesn't just have the spur of the moment plan to invite Crowley to dance (which is what Crowley was "smelling" btw), It's about giving him this whole experience that on any other day, Aziraphale never gets to give him. He wants to make Crowley feel special, to have him walk into this beautiful, romantic place that he's never seen before and be invited to dance, to have a simple, fun time.

Unfortunately that doesn't happen, even before things go south. Crowley's way too anxious to even notice any of this. But Aziraphale doesn't let this phase him, he's waited too long and is just unshakably excited to participate in such a human expression of affection. He truly believes the shop is safe, so he patiently soothes Crowley's anxieties while firmly not letting him miss out on this romantic evening he planned.

In other words, Aziraphale has picked up the pace. He's gonna shoot his damn shot and he's gonna do it properly.

[thedemonknownasbilly]

Awesome!

If you're willing, could I request headcanons for Aziraphale x Crowley x gender neutral reader where reader is chubby and insecure about their appearance?

Oh, Darling - HC for Ineffable Husbands with Chubby!Reader

Absolutely! Sorry for the delay, it was around midnight for me when I replied to the first anon, and I was just knocked out right after!

Ineffable Husbands x GN!Reader

Any and all pet names/compliments are meant as GN!

Mentions ED/Skipping meals (that’s more of a personal touch on my end as someone who is a bit curvier than average)

So let’s cover how they treat you separately, since as much as they try to be, they aren’t always attached at the hip.

Crowley

To be honest it took him a minute to even notice, ethereal (occult) beings don’t typically fuss or pay attention to “human flaws”

You guys would have met at the park bench, he was waiting for Aziraphale, and his was the only bench with a spot open.

“Could I sit here?”

“Hm?” He’d look up from his newspaper and will any blush on his cheeks to discorporate “yeah, yeah, he’s running late so I’m sure I’ll be leaving soon.”

You’d start talking to the ducks, and he was a goner, slowly joining in your conversation and just having a grand time with you.

When Aziraphale finally showed up, Crowley left you his number and told you to text him the next time you wanted to talk about anything.

He gushed about you and your knowledge of ducks to Aziraphale, who teased his husband over this crush.

After a good thousand texts, a few hang outs, and Aziraphale’s okay after a lengthy conversation, Crowley asked you out, and ofc you said yes.

He absolutely adores your curves, never seeing them as a flaw.

Won’t stand for any blasphemy you might have to say against it.

He will happily curl himself around you, slender fingers on your hips as he adorns you in kisses.

He notices some days you’ll shy away from his touch, and he never wants you uncomfortable.

But one day you had shied away all day, (he always kept track) he’d even say you were almost flinching from his touch.

This worried him, every situation he conjured in his head was that he had upset you or maybe that you didn’t even love him anymore.

So it certainly made you have to repress a sad giggle when you saw those sad yellow eyes look up at you as he asked, “is there another?”

“Never in a million years, my darling.” And with that he relaxed and sat beside you, noticing how you pressed yourself to the side of the couch.

“Then what’s with this, why won’t you let me touch you..?” He was always big on boundaries and respect, but usually he was given a sort of heads up, not just thrusted into a new rule.

“It’s silly…”

“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”

You’d go on to explain everything, how you’d always been the bigger kid, how the curves and rolls of your body often were topics of things your exes hated about you. The bullying, the lack of food, the unaffordable research on surgery even. “But even then, I’m scared you’ll realize I’m not worth the pain that a human comes with if I’m not attractive enough.”

Crowley listened intently, he always would, but he couldn’t deny that he hated what he was hearing. “Let me touch you, please.”

And when you shyly nodded, his hands were on your thighs as he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours.

“I don’t give two fucks about human beauty. You’re perfect for me.” He’d growl out as he moved to kiss down your jaw and neck, pressing his lips to every stretch of skin he could reach. “Think I give a fuck? Really? Ask Aziraphale how much we go to the Ritz, think to every time I’ve asked you. At first I figured it wasn’t your cup of tea. Not that you were treating yourself so downright wrong.”

You couldn’t help to giggle at that, and he looked up at you. “I would really like to go to lunch with you, and if it helps, we can invite the angel.”

Having Aziraphale there did help, he was enjoying his food without a care in the world for any leering eyes, and you did the same, blushing as your boyfriend adored you and his husband.

He was always there, especially now that he knew, always behind you when you stood too long in the mirror, hands on your hips as he’d whisper praises and compliments into your ear, making you repeat a few on the worst days.

Aziraphale

Once again, Aziraphale would hardly count it as the first thing he noticed. He certainly wasn’t the most slender figure himself even by human standards.

You two would meet at Maggie’s Record Shop. He was there to pick up something new and you were browsing for your favorite CDs to be on record.

He was thrilled to see Maggie have a customer and swore than if he had put a heart into his form that it would be pounding out of his chest.

He’d hurry to the Record Shop every time he saw you in the windows, finally after four run-ins, you introduced yourself to him.

You would be the only person regularly allowed into the bookshop.

Crowley had met you numerous times since, and he even encouraged his angel to ask you out. So Aziraphale finally did.

He soon found his favorite spot was to have his head on your lap, your fingers scratching against his scalp as you two would listen to whatever he’d put on the record.

He noticed one day though when you seemed to be fidgeting before he laid down, and it took him a moment to realize you were trying to make yourself look smaller.

“My darling, what are you doing?” He asked carefully, sitting beside you and placing a hand on your thigh.

Something about such a simple question and gesture made you break down, explaining how you wanted to be perfect, that you wished you looked more like Crowley did so that these treacherous thoughts would leave your mind.

Aziraphale was concerned, feeling a twist in his stomach as he carefully pulled you onto his lap, a position you tried to protest, but when he whispered out a “for me, please,” you couldn’t say no.

“My darling, having one of Crowley is more than enough. I’m quite happy to have you as you are, wouldn’t dream of asking you to change in any way.”

He’d listen to every thought you had, giving you all of his attention as his thumbs trace circles on your thighs and hips, and when you were done, he’d counter every argument with his own, explaining gently that he had truly never paid much attention to your own weight, that it was your soul and personality he adored.

“But you are quite gorgeous, I found myself aching to see you everyday before I got to know you. I’d sit right here at my desk, and wait, hoping you’d come back.” He would cup your face as he said that, “I’m not perfect by human standards either, I chose this form, why on earth would I make you change when certainly I could be in a better body for you as well.”

He always watched out for signs of those thoughts creeping back in, but everyday, he’d end it by kissing you everywhere before bed, murmuring praises and compliments against your skin like a prayer.

Ineffable Husbands

You had ventured into the bookshop on a rainy day, noticing a red and black snake perched on a sweater in the warmest spot he could be in.

“Aren’t you adorable?” You’d coo, looking around for anyone to ask before whispering to the snake, “can I pet you?”

At that the snake opened one yellow eye, looked you up and down and nodded, very human like you thought, but you carefully rested a finger against his head, between his eyes, and stroked down his body, watching as the snake seemed perfectly happy with such actions and melted back into the sweater.

Soon the owner emerged from the back, “oh I do apologize, I was fetching some lanterns incase we lost power.” He said, Aziraphale you’d learn his name was, he certainly had a small look of shock on his face when he saw Crowley allowing you to stroke him.

“So,” Aziraphale talked to the snake when you had left hours later, “I take it someone likes them?”

“Me?” Crowley slithered onto the floor and changed forms, “what about you excitedly prattling on and showing them every book of every topic they mentioned. You even let them take one home.”

“They’re bringing it back!” Aziraphale chuckled in an effort of protest.

“Oh, sweet love of mine, I think we both fancy them.” // “Indeed it seems we both do, I hope they spend more time with us soon.”

Months later, you had learned that Crowley was the snake from that day, not being horrified but instead it made you reach up without thinking and gently stroke his hair, if demons could actually melt he was certain he’d be a puddle on the floor of the bookshop, Aziraphale had gone to fetch you a new book, and Crowley trapped you onto the couch, seemingly having no joints as he curled himself around you as best he could; his head on your shoulder.

“Crowley, dear, can’t hog them to yourself now.” And Aziraphale sat beside you, hand on your waist (under Crowley) and a head on your shoulder. “I think it’s fair that we say, well, we like you. The both of us.”

You giggled at the obvious statement and turned to kiss him as his answer, hearing Crowley whine and giving him a kiss right after.

Within the next two months, you had also moved into the flat above the bookshop, which made it easier for your two loves to see just how much you seemed uncomfortable with yourself.

“When’s the last time they ate?” Crowley murmured one day, swearing that he hadn’t seen you eat all day, or the day before.

“A while, I’m worried.” With that, they both searched for you, not expecting to find you curled up under the blankets with tear stains on your cheeks.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” The with sit on the edge of the bed, Aziraphale’s hand stroking your hair and Crowley’s rubbing your back.

“Got in my head…” you’d murmur, striking concern within them as they soon encouraged you to lay in the middle of the bed, Aziraphale to your front and Crowley to your back.

Crowley’s hand never leaving your hips as he pressed kisses to you, “don’t hide from me,” he’d say when he felt you trying to will your body further into the bed. And when Aziraphale finally asked what was wrong, you told them everything from childhood, to today, “I just want to be attractive enough for an angel and a demon, like those other ones are.”

“My dear,” Aziraphale said rather seriously, “you are more than attractive enough, haven’t we shown that?” Crowley still pressing kisses made your mind seem fuzzy with bliss as Aziraphale kissed your lips, seemingly trying to pour every ounce of his adoration into it.

They would spent hours telling you about every part of you they loved, leaving no room for any insecurities, mentally or physically.

“I quite like you at this size, more for me to hold, just like with ‘Ziraphale.”

“And besides, while you may be human, we aren’t, I assure you, Crowley could pick us both up and not break a sweat.”

They’d take turns whenever an insecurity seemed to pop back up on bad days, whichever notice would help you for hours, making sure you never felt less than with them.

[yuri-is-online]

ooohh 500 already?? it feels like the 300 special was just a few weeks ago ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧ can i get prompt 6 with ace and deuce together?? hehe congrats again, more milestones to come!! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

6. Crowley has decided to put together a murder mystery for the whole ball and you've been the first one "killed." Whoever is playing detective seems really upset about that.

So I was uncertain if by together you meant Aduece + Yuu or Ace + Yuu and Deuce + Yuu. As it stands, I had an idea for Aduece + Yuu and requests for Ace and Deuce separately, so this post will contain Aduece + Yuu. I'm confused just writing that, but I hope it makes sense. If this is not what you wanted, you are more than welcome to make a second request. There is no time limit on that.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, what's worse than one angry guard dog? Two angry guard dogs! Or is it two and a half if you count Grim I guess. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Aduece

"And our first victim for tonight will be the prefect! I would have expected them to be the last victim how very odd." Crowley almost sounds sympathetic and you almost sound interested, you even let out a little "oh no" almost relived whoever was playing the murderer had decided to give you such a nice excuse to sit the next rounds of what you are certain is going to turn into a massive dick measuring contest. Grim does not share your gracious nature.

"This is bullshit!" He thrashes around in your embrace making grabby paws at the gathered crowd as if he is really going to make Mr. X regret killing you. "Just my hench human's name got pulled, why's that mean I gotta go?!"

"Aww, Grimmy, it's ok, we all know you'd be next." Ace laughs but there's a strange strain to it. He's run his fingers nervously through his hair several times now, and now that you've noticed he tries a more familiar smile, dropping his hand to tap his thigh instead. "Don't wait up for us, ok? Juice and I aren't going home anytime soon." You roll your eyes at the joke before giving both your friends a quick hug.

"For luck." You say with a quick wink before shuffling yourself and Grim up to the balcony soothing him with promises of food that you're sure will still be up there.

As soon as you are gone all pretense between the two drops as they both look at the identical cards they had been bickering over just a few moments earlier.

"I still think we should tell the headmage." Is what Deuce says, but he's missing his usual determination Ace finds so cute and yet so annoying every time he suggests the three of you cut class. "When he was explaining the rules he clearly said that there was only supposed to be one ca-"

"Then he can just deal with looking stupid." Snaps Ace. "It's not like he ever does anything else. Look can't you hear what they're saying about Yuu?" It's a low blow, they both can hear the snickering of the usual suspects, but Deuce grinds his teeth particularly sharply to find so many new people joining in. "They think it's funny." Ace says, voice dropping low and deathly serious with what he tells himself is just the intention to rile Deuce up. They both look up at the gallery, Yuu looks.... happy. Content with their lot as if they never expected any other outcome. It's beautiful, that carefree smile that turns into a pure beam once they notice the two of them looking up at them, and there is something breathtaking about knowing only the two of them can bring it out.

That seals it. Lovely as it is, the sight is wrong. You should be down here between the two of them laughing at the loosers who thought they were good at hiding themselves among the masses. Surprisingly, it's Deuce who takes the lead, turning away from Yuu and placing a firm hand on Ace's shoulder to convince him to do the same.

"It's probably one of the guys from one of the other classes." Class 1A wasn't completely loyal to each other, this was NRC after all, but all of them like the three of you. And they all knew better than to do anything to you when Ace and Deuce had you sat snugly between them like you had been all night. "If I had to make a guess, it's probably one of the guys from Leona's class."

"What makes you think it's an upper classmen?" Whispers Ace, shaking himself together and yanking Deuce back to the center of the ballroom to get a better look at the crowd.

"They wouldn't be afraid of us. And any Savanaclaw students in Leona's class would have a bone to pick with Yuu after that whole incident with Azul." It's surprisingly solid reasoning from Deuce, real proof he could probably hack it as a Magic Marshal, and Ace makes sure to take note so he can tease him about it later. But he's not entirely sold on it being pure skill that's gotten Deuce this far.

Seriously Ace thought beastmen were supposed to be good at hunting.

"Hey there, buddy." Ace throws an elbow into the Savanaclaw extra's side (partially to throw him off by annoying him but mostly to keep Deuce from jumping him immediately). "Having fun tonight? I'd have thought a big guy like you would find this whole thing boring."

"What's a fresh punk like you know about that?" His snort would be low and intimidating if Deuce wasn't so angry. "It's always the weakest links that get picked off first, I don't have to worry about shit till later."

"Oh you mean like Epel?" The upperclassman stiffens at Deuce's question, line of sight snapping away from their oblivious friend and back to the now maniacly grinning freshman who has decided to forcefully elbow his other side. Ace gives a laugh that would make Floyd proud as Deuce continues. "Cause I know you wouldn't be planning on him being your next victim, unless you really are as dumb as you look."

"What the hell are you!"

"Oi headmage!" Yells Ace, making sure to flourish the detective card in a way he very smugly thinks only he could. "We got your guy, bag him and tag a better one in next time, yeah?"

A general groan comes up from the crowd with how quickly the game is over, with Crowley quickly agreeing to another round as you once again find yourself sandwiched between your bickering friends.

"Oh come on there's no way the headmage intended for you to be the detective." Ace huffs, head firmly rested on your lap so he can glare up at Deuce resting on your shoulder. "I'm the one always taking care of you two, clearly it was intended for me."

"I'm the one who caught the killer though." A kinder version of that manic grin is firmly fixed to Deuce's face as you sigh and check the time on your phone wondering if they'll get in trouble with Riddle if they stay up here with you longer.

"Boys Boys, you're both pretty." That shuts them up, but maybe not for the reason you think. "But won't you lose your heads if you stay here much longer?"

"Eh I'm sure Riddle will understand." Ace smiles and though Deuce sputters in hesitation he makes now move to leave. "Besides, if he does not, we'll just bunk with you tonight."

"You're worth the trouble." Says Deuce, with a bit more force than usual and you sigh.

"Honestly, I should be saying that to the two of you." And though it should be said with a bit more meaning, instead you say it with a laugh.

A laugh that's quickly returned.

[whocaresaboutdecent]

Thanks @theriverspath for inspiring this fic by asking for a fic where Crowley creates a new type of pansy for Aziraphale after seeing this beautiful fan art by @nim-lock :)

Rated: General Audiences | Read on Ao3 | Warnings: Implied / Referenced Homophobia & Homophobic Language

***

Aziraphale and Crowley were sitting in the hindmost corner of a crowded pub when someone called Aziraphale a pansy for the first time. Aziraphale blinked, astonished, and turned to see who had spoken. But the speaker had already disappeared into the crowd.

“I don't understand,” Aziraphale said, frowning, as he turned back to Crowley. “Why would anyone use the name of such a lovely flower as an insult?”

Crowley shifted uncomfortably, his eyes scanning the room for any lingering threats. “Uh, I don’t think they were talking about the flower, angel.”

Aziraphale’s confusion deepened. “Then what were they talking about?”

Crowley found himself in a conversation he really didn’t want to continue, but Aziraphale’s questioning gaze left him with no choice. Reluctantly, he explained the slur's intended meaning.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, scandalised.

“I'll never understand why someone would use an insult against people who love each other.” He shook his head in disbelief.

Crowley shrugged. “Humans seem to think your boss disapproves.”

“Certainly not!” Aziraphale exclaimed. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised Crowley. “Wait, wasn't that your side's doing?”

Crowley raised his hands in mock defense. “Nah, not as far as I know. My lot would never get in the way of people succumbing to lust, would they?”

Aziraphale sighed, and they both muttered in unison, “Humans.”

In the silence that followed, they shared a knowing look, a look only two supernatural entities having spent most of their eternal lives learning the ways of humans could share.

“Pansies are such beautiful flowers,” Aziraphale said after a pause, lifting his chin stubbornly. “I refuse to let that word be anything but a compliment.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, as was probably expected from a demon witnessing such an approach to an insult. That's not what they had been invented for after all. But secretly he thought Good for you, angel.

As time passed, Crowley noticed Aziraphale’s resolve beginning to falter. Each time someone hurled the word at him, the angel’s smile grew more strained, as if every incident drained more of his resolution not to be affected. Crowley’s concern deepened, and one evening, after yet another such encounter, he decided to do something about it.

Though never very fond of the blooming variety of plants, Crowley found himself acquiring pansy seeds and setting to work. He nurtured them with care, his thoughts always on the light, clear blue of Aziraphale’s eyes. He willed the flowers to bloom in the perfect shade, but it was harder than he thought—they never turned out the way he wanted them to. They were too small, the colour too pale, the shape of the petals not quite right. Still, he persisted.

They were the only plants he never yelled at.

He’d tried, once, but going too fast, expecting too much too soon, had made the delicate flowers wither. No, he realised he needed to be patient, cautiously coaxing them from the protective dark earth with gentle, encouraging whispers and the lightest touch. He watched them absorb water and nutrients, growing stronger, more vibrant, more like the vision in his mind.

When they finally bloomed into the perfect shade of blue, Crowley was unexpectedly moved by the result. The pansies didn’t just resemble Aziraphale; they felt like him, radiating a quiet love.

Crowley hadn’t thought he could create something like that anymore.

He didn't dare to give the flowers to Aziraphale. They were too personal, too revealing of the feelings he kept hidden behind his sharp exterior. The idea of giving them to Aziraphale felt both overwhelming and insufficient. So he kept them hidden in his flat, seeking their company whenever his longing became too intense to bear.

Aziraphale didn’t get to see them until they moved into their cottage.

Crowley chose a spot visible from Aziraphale’s favourite reading chair to plant them in the garden, so whenever the angel looked out the window, the sight of the pansies would remind him of the compliment he truly deserved.

“These pansies are beautiful, my dear,” Aziraphale said softly, his voice full of admiration.

Crowley flinched, startled by Aziraphale’s voice from behind him. He had been so absorbed in tending to the flowers that he hadn’t heard Aziraphale approach.

Gentle fingertips brushed his nape in a silent apology. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the gesture.

“Um …,” Crowley began, forcefully reminding himself that there was no reason to uphold the pretense of demonic nonchalance anymore. “Actually, angel,” he continued, wiping his hands on his trousers as he hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat back on his heels, looking at Aziraphale standing next to him as he finally confessed, “I … created them for you.”

“For me?” Aziraphale’s voice trembled slightly, his face glowing with surprise and something that Crowley still struggled to understand, something that made him indescribably happy.

“Yeah,” Crowley murmured, avoiding the tender gaze that was too much to handle. “You said you’d only take ‘pansy’ as a compliment, right? So… I made these as a… as…” Crowley struggled to continue as his mouth went dry.

“As a compliment?” Aziraphale finished softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Crowley nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale’s smile was radiant. “Oh, Crowley, thank you. They’re perfect.”

Crowley couldn't help but smile to himself as he dug a hole to plant the first pansy. That had been his point exactly.

[hoshinoyozora]

Tale of the Timeless Couple

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,1k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

Youths were known for their naivety, and just like many others, it was the cause of your downfall too.

Beguiled by the promise of happily ever after, as shown in those romantic movies and books, you’d mindlessly agreed to eternal life with your soon-to-be husband, Malleus Draconia. It was especially enforced by the bitter knowledge that Crowley had never intended for you to return, and that you’d have no means of funding yourself after graduation due to the lack of necessary documents. It was either you marry a rich man and become slightly more ‘recognized’ as the proper citizen of Twisted Wonderland, or doomed to work as a maid in someone else’s house. Malleus, of course, saw no error in your judgment, despite the seeming shallowness of it, and swiftly carried out your transformation.

Due to your relationship with him, you’d always been a part of his little family. But only now did you fully integrate into it, into their lifestyle. The Draconia Family. The Royal Family.

It was blissful in the first few years, as many marriages were, burdened only by the new responsibility of being a ruler to both humans and dark creatures. Malleus and Lilia helped you with the Royal affairs, while Silver and Sebek familiarized you with the Draconia knighthood system. Sometimes, Malleus’s grandmother would visit and chat with you, offering either piece of valuable advice or rumors that would aid you in some way. You weren’t really allowed to go anywhere anymore, and definitely not without tight security. But Malleus permitted you to attend your friends’ weddings, just as how he permitted them to attend yours; a visit that excited nearly the guests in there due to it being a Royal one, and thus, exclusive.

Their occasional letters were probably the highlight of your day, and you thanked Malleus for having the bigger heart not to get jealous and cut off the only connection to your past and humanity. Your heart warmed when you saw pictures of their babies, noting all the resemblances in their features, and mused about what kind of face your child would have.

It was serene.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Perhaps it began when you received Deuce’s letter containing a photo of him and Ace in an overdue reunion at a restaurant. Your eyes, sharper from the transformation, noticed all signs of aging on their faces. Instinctively, you touched yours and felt only the youthful smoothness of the skin. You rushed to the mirror, and your stomach sank once you realized the signs would never appear in you. For some, it might be a blessing. But for you, it only served to remind you of what you lost.

Your humanity, in all its glory. Ugliness and beauty. The smoothness and the wrinkles.

And then, several years went by, until Jack passed away peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by his big family. You mourned in your office whilst clutching the letter Ace sent to you, unable to attend the funeral without messing with everyone’s schedules.

Black was the color of the Draconia family, but that day, it took on a special meaning.

Ace followed, still a mischievous man to his old age with a more tamed pride. Deuce remained as a policeman until a particularly nasty magic incident occurred, leaving Epel as your only living friend. No longer fixated on the idea of a ‘manly man’, he confessed to you that he was actually lonely. His wife had long died, and his children had all grown up and moved out of the house. You wished you could’ve visited and comforted him, but once again, duty was your obstacle.

Until you belatedly found out that Epel had suffered a heart attack after helping with his family’s farm.

“What are you thinking about, my love?”

A pair of arms hugged your swollen stomach from behind, but you remained motionless as you gazed through the window. Malleus rested his chin on your shoulder and stared at your profile.

“Well?”

“Nothing much.”

“You know better than to lie to me, my love.” said he, twirling a lock of your hair with his left finger. “If you have a problem, you can talk to me and we shall find a solution together.”

Malleus wouldn’t understand that the problem you had was beyond repair, and you feared his response should you reveal the truth.

“All of my friends died, Malleus. Except Sebek, but he’s just a guard to me now.”

“Humans have always had short lifespans.”

You flinched, and you wondered why you reacted that way when you were basically near immortal now. Perhaps some human instincts hadn’t fully disappeared yet.

“I miss them.”

Malleus fell quiet, and your heartbeat slowly picked up with each second passed in silence.

“It is a normal reaction,” he drawled as though empathy was something unfamiliar to him. “and you’ll get over it in due time.”

You wetted your lips, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been haunting you.

“What would you do… if I were to go home?”

“You don’t think I’d allow you to do it, do you?”

You stiffened in his embrace.

“… What?”

“Crowley had always been very slow when it comes to finding your way home, but he hadn’t completely stopped until I ordered him otherwise.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Luckily, you learned that it was futile to place any hope on him, so I wouldn’t have to inform you anything.”

“Why…?”

“Why? Because we were meant to be together, of course. The moment you agreed to be my lover is the moment you agreed to be mine forever.” Malleus sighed blissfully, tightening his hold on you. “And it doesn’t really matter whether you accepted my proposal or not, although it does make everything a whole lot easier. I don’t wish to hurt you, after all.”

You were mistaken. You were horribly mistaken. There was no happily ever after in marrying him. Financially, yes, but mentally? Literally?

“What about my friends?”

“I told you, they’re humans. They have terribly shorter lifespans than ours. Therefore, I don’t need to worry about them so much. Not when they’ll die sooner or later.” Malleus hummed, swaying your body in an invisible yet haunting tune. “Although, of course, I still have to supervise all of your correspondence.”

It was understandable, and you should’ve expected it. Some letters might contain threats, however unlikely it was, and Malleus was merely ensuring the safety of everyone involved. But the knowledge that he read everything that you wrote to them – intimate things that you were more comfortable sharing with your friends than your husband – unnerved you.

Maybe it was why he spent more time with you when you complained to Deuce about him being busier nowadays.

“Now, don’t overthink about the past. You’ll upset our baby.”

He caressed the bulge in your stomach, where the long-awaited child resided.

A shame that you couldn’t share baby pictures with your friends, not even the news of your pregnancy.

[averageanonymous]

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go stargazing, and Aziraphale wonders just how much Crowley remembers from before his fall.

A fluffy little bit of post-series happiness.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

“Shame you can't see more stars from London,” Crowley laments with a sigh, easing back onto the fluffy quilt beneath them. He folds his hands under his head, crosses his legs at the ankles, and gazes up at the darkening sky. A red glow lines the horizon, and the stars are just beginning to peer down from the heavens. 

“Mmm,” Aziraphale agrees from his right, still sitting up, legs folded beneath him. “It would certainly be more convenient. Although, surely there's somewhere closer we could've gone.” 

“If you're going to stargaze, you have to do it properly,” Crowley counters, “No light pollution.” 

“But Nevada?” Aziraphale insists. 

“Sierra Nevada mountains,” Crowley agrees with a nod, “Stunning views. One of the darkest places on the planet. And we've never been.” 

When Aziraphale still doesn't seem convinced, Crowley sighs, “Come on, angel, it's an adventure.” 

Finally, Aziraphale smiles, “It is that. I do hope Muriel manages the shop alright, though.” 

“They'll be just fine,” Crowley reassures him. 

Comfortable silence falls between them. Not true silence, but the silence that exists where humanity is absent. A silence punctuated by cricket song and the rustle of rodents through the grass, the flap of bat wings and the murmur of a gentle breeze through trees that tower all around. 

They listen and they watch and Crowley decides he would rather prefer it if the angel were down on the blanket with him. He brings one hand from under his head to tug on Aziraphale’s sleeve. Aziraphale glances down at him in question, then gives him a humoring smile when Crowley jerks his head towards the spot on the blanket beside him. With a sigh of his own, Aziraphale stretches out, his head settling easily on Crowley's arm. 

“That's better,” Crowley says, nipping Aziraphale’s ear playfully. 

“Oh, stop that,” Aziraphale scolds him, making no move whatsoever to actually stop the demon as he presses teasing kisses to his neck. After a moment, though, Crowley settles back, his focus returning to the sky. Well, most of his focus. There's definitely a portion still very much aware of the angel tucked into his side, a nudging mental voice telling him to forget the silly stars and pay all his attention to the wondrous work of art lying right beside him. But he does his best to ignore that part. They did come a long way, after all. 

More and more stars appear above them, as though layers upon layers of gauzy curtains are being drawn back one by one, each unveiling a new spread of glittering gems scattered across the black velvet sky. The dusty band of the milky way stretches from horizon to horizon. 

“Look at that…” Crowley marvels, breathless. 

Aziraphale looks at the glittering sky, then turns his gaze to Crowley. Crowley's bright eyes are lost in the beauty of the canvas above them, his expression almost reverent. Aziraphale’s brow knits slightly as he looks at the demon, an expression caught between reminiscence and profound sadness. Crowley notices it out of the corner of his eye. 

“What's on your mind,” Crowley asks easily. Aziraphale starts slightly at being caught staring. 

“Just…remembering,” Aziraphale tells him honestly, but there's more caution in his voice than Crowley would expect.

Remembering what, he wants to ask. But he doesn't. Crowley waits. He can tell there's more Aziraphale wants to say. If he's quiet, it'll come out sooner rather than later. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale finally turns towards him. He rests his arm over the demon's narrow frame and gently asks, “how much do you remember… From before…?” The exquisite tenderness in Aziraphale's voice softens the question. Crowley still stiffens, though. He can't help it. Whatever he was expecting, this wasn't it. Aziraphale feels his tension and immediately walks the question back, “You don't have to answer that, love, it was, well, I know it's not fair to ask.” 

“No, nah, s'alright angel,” Crowley says softly after a moment, his arm tightening around Aziraphale, “We've never talked about it. Hard to believe after six thousand years…” 

He's quiet for a long moment, then shifts himself until the two of them are lying face to face on the blanket. Crowley takes Aziraphale’s hand in his, threading their fingers together, then props his head up on his other arm, looking down at Aziraphale, but his gaze is lost somewhere in the past. Aziraphale waits patiently. Finally he says, “It's impressions, mostly, more than any sort of actual memories. The Fall…sort of burns away most of the specifics.” 

Another long stretch of heavy silence. 

Crowley's voice is hushed when it comes, “I remember God,” he pauses, then continues, “and bits and pieces of creation. Faces, conversations, most all that's a blur. I remember… early on, feeling…bliss, I guess. Peace, at any rate. Knowing I was a part of something. Of course that was before-” 

Crowley breaks off a bit abruptly, looking back up at the stars. 

“Before what?” Aziraphale prompts, squeezing Crowley's hand.

Crowley groans, “Ahhh well, before you.” 

Aziraphale raises an eyebrow, and Crowley grins, lifting their linked hands to brush his lips over the angel's knuckles. “Bet you thought I forgot, eh?” Crowley teases, “The Pillars of Creation, I think it was… First time I met you. I remember you helping me, got me asking questions. I've not got a lot of memories, but…guess you made an impression on me.”

To Crowley's surprise, Aziraphale’s face crumples in dismay, his blue eyes pained. He looks away as though he could hide it. “Crowley,” he says quietly, his voice nothing less than devastated, “I'm so sorry. I never meant to… I only wanted to-to help, and you were so joyful, so exuberant and- and you didn't know about-” 

“Shhh no, no, no, stop all that,” Crowley interrupts him quickly, gathering him into his arms. He chuckles quietly, brushing his nose playfully against Aziraphale’s to encourage him to lift his face, to meet his eyes. When he does, Crowley insists, “Angel, I didn't fall because of you. You know I wasn't ever going to last as one of you lot. It's not your fault. You…opened my eyes a bit, maybe, but I made my choices.

“And you know I wouldn't trade a thing,” Crowley continues quietly, adamantly, pulling Aziraphale even closer, his breath warm on Aziraphale’s skin as he speculates, “because being a demon is the only reason I got to be on Earth with you all these years. If I were still an angel, I'd probably be stuck in some corner of the universe running routine maintenance on dark matter and black holes and-” 

Aziraphale kisses him then, and Crowley is more than happy to let the remaining threads of the conversation spin away like leaves caught in a whirlwind. The angel, for all his public decorum and proper manners, always kisses him like he's starving for it. It makes Crowley feel like a star on the brink of a supernova, the rush of emotions like a celestial tide pulling him out into a starry sea. He smiles against Aziraphale’s lips.

Aziraphale's hands trace up his chest, dance over his collarbones, trail the column of his throat before threading into his hair. Each touch of fingers to skin races down his spine. His breath sounds haggard in his own ears as Aziraphale trails kisses along his jaw, fingers in his hair pulling his head back gently. 

And then, after not nearly enough, and with one last gentle kiss to Crowley's lips and another to his brow, Aziraphale settles back. 

Crowley is about to growl his dissatisfaction with this change of direction, but Aziraphale shushes his complaints before he can even voice them. He tips his face up to the sky and then looks back at Crowley with eyes as bright as any star. “We did come a damn long way to look at these stars,” he chides warmly. 

“Hnnnn,” Crowley grumbles, but he too settles back into the blanket, arms around his angel, legs tangled together, and turns his face to the sky. 

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Thanks for reading!

Have you ever gone legit stargazing in a place where you can see the Milky Way and shooting stars? It's literally one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. It makes you feel so small.

[dannyo000]

Whimpering as I tried to open my eyes, the light in the room made it difficult. I managed to get one open and was met with Sam and Dean Winchester. Arms crossed staring at me. I tried to move and felt my hands and legs bound to the chair I'm sitting in. I also noticed the red devil trap under the chair. I began panicking, my arms struggling against rope.

"No use in trying to get out of those." Dean spoke, stepping closer to me.

I gulped and closed my eyes, thinking about why I came to them in the first place.

I shivered, standing in the rain. I looked over my shoulder for anyone following me. Hearing the door creak open, I turned back around and was met with the most beautiful human I had ever seen. Green eyes and soft lips.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Im looking for Sam and Dean. I need help." I hugged my bare arms and pleaded with my eyes.

"Please don't hurt me I- just need help." I whispered, looking down at my bare muddy feet.

"And what could a demon need our help with?" Sam scoffed.

"I- I know I'm a demon and they're the bad guys b-but I'm not like the others." I looked back and forth at the two guys. "I swear!"

Both the boys scoffed and chuckled sarcastically.

"Like we haven't heard that before."

"Crowley is my dad. I heard so much about you guys and I knew you would be my only help."

"CROWLEY?" The boys look at eachother.

"Yes! I know he's awful and not someone to trust but you know why you never knew he had a daughter?" I frowned, "I'm the daughter to a king who forgot I exist."

"How could crowley forget his own daughter exists?" Sam asked.

"Because I was a disgrace to him. I wouldn't listen and do what he wanted of me. So he locked me away till he decided to allow me back into the world."

"So why do you need our help?" Dean questioned standing up straight, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I want you to make me human again. "

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

a good omens grieving update because if I'm crying at 5 am you better be too.

Good morning, maggoty loves of mine. Despite all attempts to distract myself and you all with wedding cakes and dresses and textposts, it is five in the fucking morning, and I've been crying for half an hour already.

I'm listening to the Pentatonix cover of Hallelujah on loop and I will never be normal about anything ever again and there is nothing you, I, God, Satan or even Neil can do about it.

@mirrorleaf was kind enough to hijack my stupid royal family post with this fucking gorgeous edit of season 1 set to Hallelujah. Thank you, I'm now fucking sobbing and I found another edit again of season 1 and then I read fics and now I'm NOT FUCKING OKAY.

All the times Aziraphale looks up to Heaven and prays, how hopeful and desperate he is, and then the way he looks at Crowley while he's pinned against the wall, entirely calm and sure and safe.

And the song playing with Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah over Crowley crying over alcohol when he thought Aziraphale had died. I'm not okay.

I need to watch season 1 again. When I watched it first, it was in two installments with you maggots on livestream, and the first installment was like two days after I was kidnapped as Mascot of Good Omens. Needless to say, it was all a fever dream.

Then I watched this edit now and there's so much. There's so much fucking layers and emotion and nuance that I didn't notice. And it's absolutely going to wreck me and then I'll have to rewatch season 2 and by then I'll have no self-preservation and I'll have read the book and I'll never ever be okay again and I'll have to live with it.

You all really just found a guy on the internet and fucking wrecked him, huh. This fandom really just did that. Now salt and pepper shakers made me think about Crowley's Fall and the inherent transience of human nature and The angel you knew is not me.

It hurts. I thought I was ridiculous about Drarry. No I was entirely fucking reasonable about Drarry. This is a gut punch except to the throat. Repeatedly.

I remember when I made a post a day or two after finishing season 2 and someone, @thescholarlystrumpet it was probably you, told me that grief isn't a linear process and to take care. To anyone outside this broken fandom, that would seem like a disproportional response to a show's season 2 finale when we know that it will end happily. Everyone in this fandom knows how much that reminder is needed, though.

Besides, though we know that the show ends happily, we know that Aziraphale and Crowley will be together and it is inevitable, how does it still fucking hurt so much? I knew all the spoilers, technically, of the show before I started, and it still surprised me with the emotions.

I had to stop writing this post for a few minutes because an image came to my mind and I had to sketch it. Of how I'd felt when I came here, lonely and frightened, and how the fandom grabbed me and forced me to watch the show and how much it hurts and how beautiful it is and how it feels like a mirror. A shattered mirror, one that's soaked with all our blood and tears, but it showed me I wasn't alone. So here, have this brief sketch and do NOT come at with about pretentiousness my beloved maggots because for one, I have always aspired to be pretentious and for another, THE SUN HASN'T FUCKING RISEN AND I'VE BEEN IN TEARS WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

Congratulations, the next time anyone asks you if you've ever killed anyone, every one of you can confidently say that yes, you are indeed directly responsible for murder. My blood is on your hands, motherfuckers, you adopted a Mascot and then killed him.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Faes and humankind are never meant to be together, but Coviello has plans to prove that wrong.

TW/S: Yandere behavior, non-canon to original Coviello, variant of twst! Coviello (huge inspo to Malleus from twst!), stalking, somno but not the sexual kind??, major character death/s (debatable but if you squint, you can see it), huge reference to the original cover of Once Upon a Dream by Lana Del Rey, delusional mindset, lol they're pulling some sleeping beauty shit here.

NOTE: Coviello is not from me, its from Meirin (@zhongrin/@meimeimeirin)! Also, this was something that hit me so hard after hearing the cover of once upon a dream... And drawing Coviello as Malleus did not help my delusions.

As a dragon fae, Coviello is no stranger to the waking of death.

They have attested this by seeing how humans can only live for so long, be it by decades... Or a few years, if they were unlucky. Some were even unfortunate to have their lives snuffed before they were given the chance to live.

To them, they were birthed from an egg, and although they had the temper worse than of a common fae, their family took care of them. At least... To the best of their abilities.

As they grew up, their eyes have witnessed tragedies. Some fell on their kind, while others fell on themselves.

It was when they achieved their signature spell: one that is so tied to the song that they heard their mother sing. However, there was a catch to that spell.

That is... Coviello must know the person's name, for this spell needs it as a payment of it's own.

If it doesn't... Well, they didn't need to remember. They knew what the payment was in return of the lack of name. Who's to say they didn't experienced it themselves?

And so, they lived on. They've watched as times change, but they remained the same. If anything, they were quite displeased with how things seem to happen so quickly.

There was nothing to catch their eye. Nothing that could make them slow down, to admire, aside from the sweets they get or from admiring the simple scenery... Or even with their animal companion.

That is, until they met you.

Housewarden of Ramshackle and Crowley's little helper.

You were the light of their life, something that made them stop to look twice.

And you two met at a time where they thought it was impossible, which was Night Raven College.

At the time, it was a simple nightly stroll for Coviello. They were out to see the abandoned ruins of Ramshackle, to simply get away from the chaos of Diasomnia. And in such a time, they had simply thought they would get a sliver of peace.

However, they were displeased to see that they weren't... And it was because of you.

Still, they held their tongue and became cordial. In their mind, you were simply there to be like them: to escape from whatever dorm you were stuck in, or to get your bearings over something else before heading back to rest.

However, they were gravely mistaken. They realized that, no, you weren't doing that... And you were an insomniac.

That, and you LIVED in that abandoned, dilapidated of a dorm.

Coviello had to reel in the urge to ask you to repeat yourself. That was a shock they never expected, and they were one to have witnessed the horrors of it all.

And yet, from the look in your eyes, you weren't kidding. And you were even more bold to ask them of their name.

In the folklore and basic knowledge of faes, one mus not tell them your real name. This was so to limit the possibility of them taking some form of ownership, a title of their claim on you.

However, Coviello what they didn't expect was for you to willingly give up your name, and even give them a nickname of your own.

You called them 'Vii'. A playful iteriation of their name, but they had no heart to correct you.

You were a peculiar being, but maybe... It was better you stay oblivious.

For their sake.

That day, Coviello was not the same as others had noticed.

If anything, it would seem as though they changed. The once feared leader of Diasomnia had their heart softened over someone that no one knew, but those who did were left confused.

Who knew that one human could make them feel like this? And yet, they did.

Every time Coviello was with you, you made it clear that it was simply to be with them as a friend. You weren't going to restrict Coviello for what they should or shouldn't do, and you were there to support them.

You made the fae feel human. Someone who was worth hearing out for.

And for them, they got addicted.

However, it wasn't long till they have witnessed your struggles. You were still human, so it was clear that you had your own issues, too.

One was how people took advantage of your kindness.

You have your heart on your sleeve far too many times, and Coviello had to witness that happen. It was almost like you never learned how it feels to be used, and when you did... You were hurt.

They hated it. They hated seeing just how miserable you are sometimes. And they hated how you seem to act like your misery was not a big deal.

Still, you trudged on, just like a soldier is to the sight of a war.

As for Coviello, they stayed... Waiting.

Waiting for your walls to crumble.

What they lacked back then was patience, but oh, Coviello had enough time in the world to remain patient. They knew in themselves that the time will come that you'll admit defeat.

And each time that things happened, the burden was placed on you. Each time you try to justify it wasn't your fault, people never believed you.

You were a magicless human. You don't deserve to have a voice, they told you.

And each time, you swore to yourself that you felt someone was on you. Someone who kept watching you from a distance, far from your untrained eyes.

Coviello truly didn't mean to scare you, but they were curious. They wanted to see if you were able to understand the predicament you were under, and how each one of them would let you take the blame.

They were all cowards. You and Coviello knew that. But did you believe them?

No. No, you didn't.

And to see them resort to it after all the warning they gave you was... Disappointing. But maybe it was worth for the beauty that they've seen.

That in some way, you were stubborn to prove their words wrong.

However, Coviello has seen it. Each time that you went through it, they could see how difficult it is to remain the same perception.

Which leads them to now, with cradling your body in their arms after they had the entirety of Night Raven College under their control. Under their power, slumbering as peacefully as they can.

"... But if I know you, I know what you'll do," they whispered by your ear, pulling your body closer to them. "You'll love me at once, the way you did..."

"Once Upon a Dream."

And just like that, your body went limp, your rushed breaths becoming quiet. Coviello could only imagine what pleasant dreams you have under their spell as flowers bloomed, traversing to cover your eyes to keep them 'closed'.

Once Upon a Dream— a signature spell only they can wield, which renders whoever hears those words in a deep slumber. And the worst part?

All they need is a name of the recipient for it to work.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: in the house we remain

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Length: 48,334 words

AO3 Rating: Mature / Spice Level 🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, At Home, Angst, Human AU

Triggers: Major Character Death

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

*Minor Spoilers* It's almost frustrating that this story of Aziraphale falling in love with a ghost is one of the most gripping and beautiful stories I've read. It shouldn't work this well, it should be a crack idea. But this is such a powerful piece of fiction. It seamlessly blends romance with mystery and horror. Get your tissues, settle in, this one will haunt you.

Aziraphale has just moved to a cozy cottage in the countryside. If he's hearing things, feeling weird drafts, and noticing things out of place, well, that's just him settling in. Soon, there will be no denying the strange events, and it starts with a set of unpublished books written by an AJ Crowley. The previous, deceased, owner of the house.

This is heartbreaking. It's grief pools over everything. As Aziraphale learns more about the entity who haunts his cottage you will start to grieve as well. The way they begin to communicate was so thrilling and the softest romance. On one hand, we know they're soulmates and belong together despite any obstacle. On the other, it's a tragedy and horrifying. It's gorgeous and grotesque.

It's mostly safe in public, but an at home read for me. If you were destroyed by All of Us Strangers, I think you'll want to check this out. But mind the tags and warnings, there is graphic descriptions of death and major character death. Technically a happy ending? But that's a grey area in itself. I'd love to know how you guys feel about this ending actually

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

P.S Spoilers under the cut because I want to scream about this story so come back once you've read this

I literally started crying when Aziraphale discovers what was tucked into the attic, the way Crowley was never appreciated as an author was so painful!! Crowley's death destroyed me!! The scene of the water splashing and Aziraphale trying to save him??? Only to come inside and see him?? THE ART???? This one has got me UNWELL.

But also what a horror! Aziraphale never experiencing a full life with Crowley, never knowing the physical touch of a person for what was it 40 years?? That's both romantic and devastating.

UGH I will never get over the scene of Aziraphale watching Adam discover his body. It made my blood run cold. And how Crowley had to watch over his decaying body as well. FUCK this one is so insanely good and how can I explain that to a normie? Hm? Yeah this human au of my blorbos falling in love even though one of them is a ghost literally had me crying screaming and throwing up and this is a normal thing for me

My views on the ending? I think I lean on the horror end of the scale. Yes they are together, but stuck watching over every new owner of the house, still never getting to experience a real life together

[eras-mus]

‡Further Down The Rabbit Hole‡

For: @libraryraccoon

★Alice! Yuu

★libraryracoons Idea

Whenever someone asked Yuu how they had gotten here they never had a straight answer and the story seemed to change every time. This, of course, was not because they were lying or making it up but because it was all a splotchy blur. Though one thing always stayed they same: they saw a black horse-drawn carriage, blacked out, and woke up in a coffin.

"Do you remember anything from the carriage ride? Where it went? How it traveled?" Crowley had asked the night of Yuus arrival.

"No, all I remember is a strange dream, well part of the dream" They started, seemingly trying to recall said something. "I was following a white rabbit...Or maybe it was a black cat... There was something about blue fire- OH! And shouting! Someone was roaring...Or shouting something about heads...Or betrayal...Maybe even deals?There might have been a green dragon or a beautiful queen..."

Yuu doesn't remember much from that night...Or nights? But they remembered the way Crowley scowled.

As if being a human in a mages school wasn't hard enough, over the course of the year the were haunted by strangely nostalgic dreams about what Yuu learned to be the Great Seven.

The first few months were the hardest, Crowley would talk about how generous he is. "Like the Walrus to the Calms" he would say. When Yuu asked Trien about this weird analogy he just said that probably never Crowley never heard the real story but it was still strangely accurate.

And Trien was right. It felt as if Crowley would eat and eat away at Yuus energy, not giving them any time for finding a way out of the rabbit hole. Though Grim wasn't helping either, he only enticed Yuus curiosity, they felt as if they were chasing something that was running faster and faster, further away from home.

The dorms were just a strange. They all reminded Yuu of different things.

Heartslabyul was rather straight forward, a tyrant queen and a push over kings.

Savannahclaw was a bunch of new creatures playing tricks on you and humiliating you for their entertainment.

Octavinelle reminded them of a business man who uses his success to make you do pointless things, like running though water to dry, telling you you'll become dry like him.

Scarabia was a party with welcoming people you've never met, celebrating a strange event to cover up their problems.

Pomefiore was like a bunch of flowers, disgusted by the mer thought of weeds, except for the new blossoms who seemed to be closed minded in a different way.

Ignihyde like two twins begging for their attention and to just stay a little longer.

Diasomnia just felt like a strange cat that would disappear until the most or least helpful times.

Though Yuu found outliers to this rule, it only made this maze of a world that more intoxicating. From Sam selling things at his shop that seemed to make you grow small and large, to the teachers spilling nonsense like they were high.

Yuu became less entertained by the idea of going home until they were rushed by a wave of homesickness and wished to be back in their own bed.

Everyone noticed how sad Yuu seemed that day but no one could cheer them up. They were all eager to make up for all of the good advice Yuu had given them in the past or even encourage them to take their own advice from helping others when they had felt the same. By the end of the day Yuu had broken down in the courtyard saying;

"I give very good advice but a seldom ever follow it"

[dandelion-blues]

The Miracle is You

Intro:

When Lucifer gets his wings back, he doesn't just lose time. He is displaced in another universe. A universe where he might just be accepted and find a family he never knew he needed.

Lucifer x Good Omens crossover fanfic

Chapter 1

“No, no, no!” Lucifer screams frantically. He pulled roughly at the damned extra limbs. He grasped desperately for them, pleading for them to not be real and go away.

The beautiful white feathers stayed, though, achingly adding a now unfamiliar weight upon Lucifer’s back. The beautiful pure white wings ethereally spread out. They were the most beautiful of all angel's wings but sharpened with a deadly grace of all archangels. The wings of the favored son of God, Samael.

Why are his wings back? Why now, after everything? What does Dad want with him now?!

Lucifer wants these wings off now, he needs them off. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong!

Now if Lucifer were in a stable frame of mind he might have noticed that he wasn’t in LA anymore, or even still in his dimension, but well I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough. Especially when our lovely angel and demon couple happen upon him.

“Oh Crowley, it's such a lovely day today, isn’t it?” The angel Aziraphale asks his friend and lover, the pink of dawn marking the horizon with only the quiet sounds of critters heard.

“It always is with you Angel.” Crowley smiles at the Aziraphale. The angel noticeably blushes and starts to stutter something back but is interrupted by frantic yelling heard not too far away.

“What the-” Crowley starts exasperated, but quickly his yellow eyes go large in shock behind his shades.

Just behind the bridge, kneeling in the park’s grass is a person, no an angel marked by their impressive white wings yelling and panicking as they try and desperately grip at their feathers.

Crowley and Aziraphale share one look and quickly go running over to the angel. Only as they get closer, so does their growing horror. The angel is trying to rip out their feathers.

Crowley reaches the angel first and grasps their hands tightly, but not harmfully, to stop them. This unfortunately only causes the unknown angel to flinch hard.

Crowley frowns in concern, but then the angel tries to get out of Crowley’s grasp.

“Stop!” Crowley orders the angel, looking into their eyes. Only the angel’s brown eyes are glazed over, and their handsome face is tight in fear, like they cannot comprehend what is in front of them.

“No no no.” the angel continues to say fearfully and shakes. Their dark eyes staring at Crowley, but not seeing him. “Please, no more!”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley snaps when his angel reaches them, “They aren’t in their right frame of mind, and I can barely hold on to them and keep them from harming themselves. They're too strong. Please Miracle something!”

Aziraphale’s blue eyes go large, and he steals his nerves and nods, producing a Miracle.

Just like that the unknown angel’s eyes roll back, and they fall into Crowley’s arms unconscious.

Unfortunately the unknown’s angel’s impressive wings are out and on display, and people are surely going to come out soon. It’s practically a miracle that no one else has come by yet.

In any case Crowley looks towards Aziraphale, as he is picking up the unknown angel, conveying without words what to do. Aziraphale looks fondly at Crowley and produces the Miracle that gets them and the unknown angel in the bookstore.

“Oh dear, I hope they’re alright.” Aziraphale frets, smoothing his tan blazer, and looking worriedly at the unknown angel. Their dark hair, black as night, high cheekbones, olive skin and young face not looking a day over 25, by human standards anyways. The age doesn't mean much for angels, but well, the point still stands.

“Careful now, or I might think you were checking them out.” Crowley smirks as Aziraphale blushes.

Aziraphale lightly smacks Crowley’s arm, “Hush you.”

Azirahale sighs, “I suppose we should bring them somewhere to rest until they recover.

“Yeah,” Crowley frowns, “I’ve never seen anything like it, they were trying to rip out their feathers, pleading for something or someone to stop.”

Aziraphale looks troubled, and the couple stays in contemplative silence until they reach the guest room and Crowley places the unknown angel gently on the bed, adjusting them on their stomach, so their wings aren’t flattened or harmed.

Except when Crowley carefully adjusts one of the wings, he hisses sharply and takes sight of blood pouring down his hand.

“What happened?” Aziraphale asks worriedly, as Crowley curls his hand towards his body, did the angel’s wing just cut him?!

Aziraphale gently grabs Crowley’s hand, and sure enough there’s a clean slice down his palm, dripping with blood.

Aziraphale gasps, and goes to Miracle something, but Crowley stops him, “Stop, you’ve already used enough Miracles today, besides it’s already closing up.” Just like that the wound closes up like it was never there. The only evidence is the remaining blood.

“Oh alright,” Aziraphale huffs and carefully examines Crowley’s hand, “But what in the Almighty’s name could have done that?”

Crowley glances out at the unknown angel’s wings, a pit forms in his stomach, and he approaches the wings carefully, and sure enough on the end of one of the primary feathers is Crowley’s blood.

Please, don’t be what Crowley is thinking. Please, please, please.

“What-” Aziraphale begins, but lets Crowley continue bewildered.

Crowley goes over the primary feather again, the tip of his index finger just touching it, and he digs his finger in a bit more, and sure enough blood is drawn.

Aziraphale gasps, and quickly takes Crowley’s hand back in his, “What were you thinking?!” Aziraphale starts to rant, fretting at Crowley, except he stops when he sees the look on his demon’s face.

“Their an…” Crowley starts, his voice quivering, “Archangel.”

“No.” Aziraphale gasps.

Crowley nods grimly, “Their primary feathers are deadly sharp, and no other angel would ever possess such wings.”

“What does this mean?” Aziraphale holds Crowley’s hands in confort.

“I don’t know,” Crowley states and squeezes his angel’s hands back, “but I’ll know we’ll get through it together.”

“Together.” Aziraphale agrees and embraces his demon. They glance once more at the unknown angel, a sign of change. What that change is though, it’s too soon to tell.

Luckily, the angel and demon have one another. They chose one another. They navigated the black and white standards of their celestial worlds’, and eventually came to see and accept the world and themselves in all their beautiful shades. Now it’s time for a certain Devil to learn the same, but well that’s for another time.